#whether or not he finds any enjoyment from it is another thing but

[xamaxenta]

…Sabo public punishment where hes stripped down and chained up in a courtyard free for the general revolutionary army staff to use as they please

[ectologia]

Tomura Shigaraki is definitely a disgusting and depraved perv when it comes to kinks and fetishes, it's a known fact. I wanna know your ideas for all the fucked up things he's into, illegal or not ^^

KINKS & FETISHES

TOMURA SHIGARAKI EDITION

CONTENT ♱ IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER, THIS IS EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT WITH A PLETHORA OF KINKS AND FETISHES (INCLUDING NONCON), COMMON OR NOT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

ACAROPHILIA (AROUSAL FROM SCRATCHING)

Tomura loves the scratchies, we all know that. Whether he’s sad, anxious, frustrated or horny, you can always catch those blunt fingernails digging at his flesh like a dog in a flower patch. And, unsurprisingly, yours too. He likes the way you shudder as he claws down your skin, catching your nipples as he tears down your tits before watching the thin white lines raise into nasty looking red gashes. He’ll even drag his tongue over them to feel the bumps as he wanks.

ANAL TRAINING

Tomura is a disgusting and malicious man, so it should come as no surprise that one of his favourite past times is to see how wide he can stretch your ass open. He’ll make it into a game, timing you, finding different objects (safe or not) to squeeze up your butt, promising you treats and rewards if you can take having your sphincter stretched another 5 centimetres. And if you don’t think that’s a lot, trust, it is. And it’ll hurt. He’ll make sure of it.

ANONYMOUS SEX

Even evil crime bosses such as Tomura can get insecure too. On those days he’s feeling extremely low about himself, whether it be because a mission was unsuccessful or because his skin’s had a flare up and he can barely look at anyone. He’ll resort to skulking around dingy clubs and alleys. He’s not the biggest fan of glory holes, mainly because he’s scared there’ll be a dude on the other side sucking his cock. But he appreciates that he can be as weird or unattractive as he wants and still bust a fat nut into something other than his fist.

BATHROOM CONTROL

We all know Tomura is a control freak. And it just gets freakier when he starts telling you where and when you can go to the toilet. On most days, he’s tame about it. All he asks of you is that you tell him when your bladder’s full and he’ll give you permission to use his toilet. It’s only until he starts wanting to watch you shit and piss while he jerks himself off does it get a little.. worrying. He just finds it so cute when your little body does what it’s supposed to, and it’s even better when he’s the one that gets to be a bossy boots about it.

BREAST + NIPPLE TORTURE

As mentioned before, Tomura likes scratching your nipples. He’s also an avid enjoyer of slapping, pinching, twisting, stretching, biting, flicking and tickling. Really, there’s no actual explanation. He just enjoys watching you writhe in pain.

BREAST + NIPPLE WORSHIP

Equally, on the flip side. Tomura worships your tits, physically and spiritually. He finds them so beautiful, he reckons they’re his favourite part of your body. Romantic, right? He’ll kiss and hug and squish, juggling them in his palms before sucking one into his mouth while caressing the other. He’ll use them as pillows, resting his head on your chest before slipping away into a restful slumber. Probably to dream of even more titties.

CRUROPHILIA (A KINK RELATED TO LEGS)

Legs, legs, legs. Long legs, skinny legs, chubby legs, muscular legs, legs in tights, legs in thigh highs, shaved or unshaved. Tomura loves legs, he’s obsessed with them to some degree. Just the way he can do so much with them. Fold them against your chest, spread them out wide, throw them over his shoulders, or even bind them tight. He just loves legs.

BONUS

If you’re a fast runner, watch out, because Tomura will be chasing you in circles like you’re a gazelle in the savanna. He gets off to it, hardcore.

CUMSHOTS

Tomura will find any excuse to make something into a game. Give him something to aim at and he’ll be shooting semen at you like it’s an FPS. His favourite thing to spunk on is your clit, since it’s such a tiny target he feels almost accomplished when he manages to spit the creamy white liquid right on the little bud. (Before getting to lick it off)

FACE FUCKING

Who doesn’t love a nice, rough face fuck? Tomura definitely does. Tomura treats all your holes like sex toys, and your mouth is just another. He’s a hard, deep and fast fuck, using your hair like reins as he shovels his length all the way down your throat and back up again. He’s like a greyhound, once he starts he can’t stop. So what if you just threw up on his dick? He’s not done until he’s done.

FACE SITTING

Not in the way you think. He’s the one doing the sitting ‘round here darling. He’ll use it as a punishment, squatting over your face with his filthy asshole puckering and scrunching over your lips, Oh, what, you think it’s gross? Good. You better get used to the view of his hairy ass crack, baby, because you’re gonna’ be here a while.

FOOT FETISH

Perhaps the most common and well known of Shiggy’s fetishes, he’s a feet connoisseur. Manicured toes, soft soles and high heels are what he dreams of at night. Pumping his dick between a pretty girl’s smooth arches, legs bent with her steaming hot pink pussy nestled right between them? Hell yeah. He’ll alternate between worshiping your feet and having you worship his. He sucks your toes, you suck his back. It’s a 50/50 relationship.

BONUS

Though Tomura’s obsession is mainly sexual, he’ll massage your feet as an act of service purely because it’s his love language.

MACROGENITALISM

Some men like the pretty, pink pristine vulvas, the hairless ones with barely-there, tucked away labias and tiny clits you can barely get at. Some men aren’t Tomura. He wants it hairy, messy and sloppy. He wants to nestle his face between your bush and suffocate himself with the coarse hairs, he wants to gnaw and pull on your beautiful labia with his teeth and lick through every fold and crevice like he’s an explorer. He likes the women with big, gorgeous clits and fat, chunky cunts, and he won’t have anything less.

NONCON

He likes the way you scream and plead. How your guttural wails and ear piercing shrieks dull and splinter into pitiful whimpers. How your eyes mist into glassy, shiny goggles the moment he pulls the sluggish length of his manhood out and slaps it up and down on your tiny, twitchy clit. Back hunched as he places a boney finger to his lips, shushing and cooing at you as you heave through grit teeth when he splits into your folds. His big, bulbous cock head juts in and out with a slick pop as he pummels you into a shakey, traumatised little mess, pumping you full with his seed, wether you want it in your little womb or not.

PEODEIKTOPHILIA (PENIS FLASHING)

Though it sounds sinister, Tomura finds it positively hilarious. He likes to see that momentary, adorably shocked, deer-in-headlights look on your face when he drops his waistband for just a second, giving you an eyeful of his big, floppy cock and balls. Whether you’re on your own or with people, outside or inside. He’s incredibly sneaky and an all around menace. Walking past while you’re tucked into bed? He’ll wipe his clammy dick on your face along the way. Having a conversation with someone? He’ll slip his squishy pink head out of his boxers and thumb the slit with a cheeky grin. Brushing your teeth? He’ll chase you around the bathroom with his balls hanging out. Just know, he does it because he loves you. You’re his best friend.

QUIROFILIA (HAND FETISH)

Tomura likes pretty hands. Long, lithe fingers with manicured nails and soft knuckles. A stark contrast to his huge, calloused and, not to mention, destructive ones. He’ll kiss and caress the delicate appendages before demanding you wrap them around his cock, stacked atop one another as you stroke his prick up and down, foreskin clicking stickily as his balls jiggle against his thighs until he inevitably climaxes, coating your sweet fingers in the syrupy substance of his love.

SOMNOPHILIA (ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY WITH SOMEBODY THAT IS ASLEEP OR UNCONSCIOUS)

It can be for various reasons, the main one being you’re too tired to deal with him, so he just takes matters into his own hands. He’ll spread your pussy and eat it from the back as much as it takes until he can slip inside you nice and easy. Bouncing your unconscious self against the mattress with his dick nestled tightly inside your syrupy walls, while you stay tucked into bed all cosy and warm. See? It’s a win win situation.

WATERSPORTS

Similar to Tomura’s “bathroom control” kink, Tomura just really likes piss. Wether you’re squirting in his mouth after getting finger banged within an inch of your life, or you’re on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to give you a hot, steamy golden shower, he really doesn’t care. As long as at least one of you are drenched in piss by the end of it.

A TOTAL OF 17 KINKS THAT I COULD THINK OF (BUT I’M SURE THERE’S MORE)

[nightmareweaverz]

What is Love? (Mr. Gap x GN!Reader) Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

CW: Mild gore/injury, a bit of violence but nothing extreme

Word count: 2536

Since people enjoyed it and I had some ideas, I decided to continue this! We meet someone new in this chapter. Keep in mind it's not gonna turn into a love triangle, tho. The new character serves a different purpose. Enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Another book falls shut with a loud thump next to the armchair that's held you for the past two days. A large stack rests beside it. You've been leafing through many of them lately, especially romance books. Not all of them fit your taste, some you would even call boring. Reading wasn't a hobby of yours when you were in the human world, but here, you've found this more enjoyable than walking around with no real purpose. Even the boring ones become less boring eventually. It’s nice to pretend you are a character in a story, with a different life, one that has purpose. Unlike your current reality.

Until you run out of books. Then you have to go out searching for more. This is one of those times. You've read everything from your last find. It was mostly magazines and newspapers, save for one or two novels, some of them half shredded. But their job is done now.

Crowbar in hand and hood drawn over your head, you detach yourself from the armchair and set out on your little mission. Your previous haul is left behind. There is no point in trying to keep any of the things you've finished reading. They'd only slow you down in this ever shifting maze.

The hallways are as creepy and hard to navigate as usual. A locked door here, imminent danger there, some horrific friendly residents and other equally horrific non friendly residents. The usual.

While you're peering inside a vent in an attempt to see if you can use it to get past a wall, Mr. Gap pays you a visit.

“Hello,” he greets you.

“Hello. Can take other room?” You point at the wall.

“Can take.”

“Danger there?”

“No danger. Lots of object.”

That's exactly what you were hoping to hear.

“You take me?”

“Take, take.”

He grabs your arm. Your vision goes black for a moment, as it always does when Mr. Gap moves you from one place to another. Everything goes quiet and you briefly feel a chill envelop you. Then you're in a new place, the room he promised to take you to.

“Thank you.”

Lately, he's been doing a mix of asking for body parts and doing things without wanting anything in return. Whether he’s trying to be nicer or he plans on asking for something later, is unknown to you. The occasionally friendly company is still appreciated.

You turn to the piles of random objects fallen from the human world. A far larger pile than usual. With a little bit of luck, it won’t all be full of worthless junk. You get to sorting through them before an earthquake can do it all in.

“What you search?” Mr. Gap's face peeks out from beneath a toppled over armchair.

“Lots of paper.”

Old dirty clothes, a couple abandoned toys, a lamp, a bike wheel, they all get thrown around in your search. You let out a triumphant “Yes!” when you stumble upon a copy of Frankenstein. It's not romance, but it'll keep you busy nonetheless. You shove it beneath your underarm before resuming the search.

“You like paper? Me like paper,” Mr. Gap comments as he reappears in another nook between two wooden planks.

“Okay,” you say dismissively. Normally, you'd humor him, but this world is unpredictable and you want fuel for your newly acquired pastime before it decide to bury everything beneath a pile of rubble.

You turn over a seat pillow and his face suddenly pops up in the space beneath. He holds out a magazine.

“Oh, thank-”

“Me want your finger.”

This slimy gremlin. You flash him your middle finger, only for a moment, before he can misunderstand and rip it off. The gesture confuses him, but the following grumbles must mean it didn't fly over his head entirely.

“Stop take my paper. Me not give,” you warn that you won't exchange any body parts for magazines he finds before you do.

But he knows this by now. It must simply delight him to see the furrow in your brow and hear you huff in irritation. You return to your task, refusing to grant him anymore satisfaction.

One pile of random objects later, he pops up again, this time with another book. This one is small, made of thick cardboard. The brightly colored cover suggests that it's for children.

“Me give, you teach me,” he says this time.

“Teach what?” He better not be about to ask you to sing itsy bitsy spider.

Mr. Gap opens up the book on a page where a cartoon little boy is offering a flower to a little girl. “What this?”

Where did he find that? Has he been trying to learn more about love? Is that why he's curious about such a gesture? The idea makes you find him kind of cute if it's true. Have you both just been reading romance related material, fumbling like idiots to figure out how it works?

As for explaining it, first, you point at the flower and say the word for it in English, since you're not sure there's a term for it here.

“This flower. Human give flower to person they like. Flower nice, pretty.”

Mr. Gap attempts to speak the new word. “Flower?” He stares at the illustration for another moment, then smiles creepily, the way he always does. “Thank you.”

In exchange, he gives you the magazine he'd tempted you with earlier. It’s a paranormal one. Knowing him, he’s already read through it. Read… Can Mr. Gap read? He doesn’t understand your language when you speak it, but he seems particularly fond of magazines. Is it all for the pictures? Maybe you’ll ask him next time.

You tuck the magazine next to the book and continue through the pile.

Once your left arm is satisfyingly full, you leave the room, now in search of a safe place to sit and read.

The sound of footsteps suddenly approaching nails you to the spot for a moment. Your hand instinctively grips the crowbar tighter, preparing for the worst. Whatever is coming, it better not force you to drop your books and flee. Because then you will be pissed. And you tend to lose control when you are pissed.

Fortunately, what walks in does not prove to be threatening. In fact, it's not even a resident. A young man with messy red hair cautiously steps in, then immediately freezes when he spots you. The sight of him nearly knocks all the air out of you. There is another human in the Other World. A living, breathing human, something you thought you'd never see again.

You are aware of how frightening you look. The bloodied raincoat, the silver hair, the bandages on your face and your blotchy, dark reddish skin. You often turn away quickly when faced with smooth metal, glass and, god forbid, mirrors. It's hard to believe the image you see is you. So his fear of you comes as no surprise. It serves as a grim reminder of what you've become.

“Hello.” When you speak, you use your native language.

“You speak English?!” the young man sounds startled and relieved at the same time.

“Yes… What are you doing here?”

Speaking complex sentences feels far better than you expected. It brings you a type of joy and nostalgia that startles you. Had you been missing it that much?

“I… I don't remember how I got here. Or what I was doing before. I'm just looking for the exit. Can you help me?”

This sounds painfully familiar. You remember when that used to be you. When you still had hope. And that memory tugs at something in your chest and urges you to make sure this man finds that exit. Before it's too late.

“I can help. What's your name?”

Such a human question to ask. The idea of using someone's proper name also makes you happy. When exactly have you become the type of person excited about complex sentences and names?

“I'm Robin. And you?”

You give him your name and he nods uneasily. Perhaps he hasn't been here long enough to be unphased by residents. That's good. It means there's still time.

“Mr. Gap?” you call out as you turn to the nearest crevice you can find. He appears as he always does. “Can take person exit?”

He glances at the human behind you, who is now observing warily. Then he shoots you that annoying grin of his. “Me want your heart.”

“Uh! Not give heart! Lead exit!”

“Not give? Goodbye.” And then he disappears.

You feel a strong urge to smack that grin right off his face. But he's gone and it seems like it's up to you to help this man find his way out.

“What did you talk about?” the man in question asks.

“I thought he'd help, but I overestimated his kindness… Come on, we need to find an elevator. It will take you out of here.”

“Alright… Um, thank you!”

His thanks is met with a dismissive little wave from you. Begrudgingly, the books have to be left here. The chances of finding them again are very slim, but you'll be less efficient with one arm entirely full.

The two of you set out to search for the exit.

The first rooms you pass through are an empty blessing. Robin isn't very talkative. Despite his wide shoulders and tall build, he appears quite timid and frightened. Every time you enter a new room, he first pokes his head in cautiously, then he dares to advance once he knows the coast is clear.

Is this how you used to be? Frightfully wandering the Other World, aided by Mr. Crawling, scared of your own shadow? It's a stark contrast to the apathetic stride you've developed since your return.

“How long have you been down here?” Robin asks after a prolonged silence.

“A while. It's hard to keep track of time here.”

“Is there… no way to turn you back?”

“I had a friend who was searching for a cure. But we got separated…”

You don't want to think about Mr. Silvair or the rest right now. You'd rather just focus on the task of finding the elevator.

“Is your friend like the guy in the hole?”

“Uh, no! That guy is an annoying little jerk who only does as he pleases.” Your face twists in annoyance just thinking about Mr. Gap. He could've effortlessly helped out, but he chose to be a pain instead.

“Oh, sorry.”

The hallway ends with two identical doors. Doors. They're so annoying in this world. Immediate death, sudden threat or a boring room could be waiting behind one and usually there's no way to tell them apart unless you open it.

“Stay back,” you instruct the human as you cautiously turn the doorknob.

Through the crack you've opened, you see a large, mostly empty room apart from a shelf with various toys on it. There are no signs of enemies for now.

“Okay, we can go.”

You step inside, you first and Robin cowering behind you. Everything seems fine as you head towards the doorless exit on the other side of the room. Until the door suddenly shuts and locks behind you.

“Who did that?!” Robin exclaims, startled.

You clutch your crowbar tighter, eyes darting around the room. One of the stuffed animals on the shelf suddenly lunges at you. However, you've spent long enough down here to parry such an attack easily. Swiftly, you swing your crowbar and knock it against the wall. Something shatters inside it. It stops moving.

But you have no time to relax. Robin lets out a startled scream. When you turn his way, several other toys are trying to climb him. One of them has sharp teeth and is biting into his arm.

“Get off him, you pests!” you yell out as you knock them off one by one, always followed by that shattering sound.

When he's freed, Robin quickly backs into a corner, cradling his bleeding arm. He's hurt. That's not good. He hasn't begun to transform at all. So his healing is that of a normal person.

“How deep is it? Let me see.”

“What were those things?! They- they bit me!” He’s panicking.

“Robin, you have to calm down and let me see your injury. It's gonna be okay. I'll get you out. But I need to see your arm first.” You try to be gentle. At least that's not something you've forgotten how to do yet.

He stares with wide eyes full of terror at first. But with each new reassurance, his breathing slowly relaxes and his trembling seizes. He offers you the arm. Gently, you roll up the torn sleeve of his shirt. Nine deep little cuts in a semicircle ooze blood on his forearm. It's not fatal, but leaving it untreated would be unwise.

You quickly glance around the room until you spot the dark void beneath the bottom of the shelf. You hurry to it at once.

“Mr. Gap! We need medicine! Person hurt. Blood,” you announce in the other language.

Mr. Gap does appear. He throws one look Robin's way, then grins at you. “Medicine? Can bring. Me want their finger.”

“Oh, for the love of- Give you my finger!” you try to bargain, not in the mood to explain that giving him a human's finger would defeat the purpose of asking for medicine.

Mr. Gap looks almost offended. Perhaps because you usually never say yes to his demands when he asks for your body parts. “Why?”

“Need medicine! Hurt! If outsider give finger, lots of hurt!” you explain, exasperated.

His face twists in displeasure. When he looks at Robin again, his eyes narrow, like he suddenly can't stand him. “Me not want your finger. Me want their finger.”

“Uh! You slimy little sewer rat!” you insult him, fully aware he hasn't a clue what you're saying, but probably able to tell from your tone it isn't nice. Then you turn away indignantly.

“Did your friend not want to help?” Robin asks timidly when you return to him.

“He thinks everything needs to be a transaction. It's fine, we'll manage without him.”

You lift up a part of your raincoat and rip off a piece of the white garment beneath it. Robin holds out his arm once again and allows you to bandage it.

“Why are you going to such lengths to help me?” he murmurs.

Why? You ask yourself that in turn. Perhaps because you didn't make it out. Perhaps you don't want another person to step outside and feel like a shark in the middle of a city, scary yet powerless and out of place.

“I just want somebody else to make it home after I couldn't.”

“I'm sorry…”

“It's fine. I don't need you to pity me. Just try to stay alive. Come on, let's go.”

You tilt your head towards the doorless opening. Begrudgingly, Robin pushes himself away from the corner and follows you out.

You both fail to notice the small roll of bandages that rolls out from beneath the shelf just as you pass it.

[14dayswithyou]

Conan sent me here!

[SPOILER TERRITORY]

It was a pretty dick move for MC to just bail on Ren and Elanor at the aquarium. Wouldn't it be better to have an option to either go with Leon or stay with the other two?

⌞♥⌝ Technically, you do!! ^^ If you choose not to go into the closet, you'll (eventually) go with Leon. Every other choice lets you stay with Ren and Elanor.

In saying all that, I don't think there's much point in offering another choice since you don't really get any extra scenes with Elanor and Ren afterwards. Regardless of whether you go into the closet or not, Elanor and Teo will always leave, and Ren will show up again no matter what choice you make. So... You just have to choose whether you want to spend more time with Leon or Ren, I guess lol

But I can see where you're coming from, and you definitely have a point!! But at the end of the day, it's just a video game, so I wouldn't look too deeply (or personally) into some of the characters' actions. Some things are just there for the sake of plot progression ^^

🌷 Game dev yapping under the cut (if anyone cares to read about that hehe /pos) 🌷

I personally don't think Leon's route would've been as fun if Ren and Elanor were to tag along, especially considering how all three share very similar dynamics when it comes to interacting with Angel (a.k.a. being overly protective/motherly with Angel. The dialogue with those three would be very... bland and overbearing in my opinion shjshg).

I also wouldn't find it engaging (as a player) to spend the entire day consoling Teo while playing mediator with him, Jae, Elanor, and Ren as well. If I added Leon to the scene, I feel like there'd be too much going on and not enough focus on him.

Also... Teo, Elanor, and Ren all had more than enough screen time up until that point!! Since Leon was missing for most of Day 4, I wanted Leon enjoyers to have a personal moment with him — without everyone else around. And Ren... Well, he's the main love interest, so he naturally has to be around for most of the game lmao

Anyways!! Sorry for yammering hsghjs

[sunboki]

CYCLE IN, CYCLE OUT. ⎯ a short Minho fiction

Lee Minho x gn. reader

• trope. established relationship, fluffy, comfort

• word count. 0.6k

• notes. felt vv in love w our favorite MC on these 2 kids shows…

Lee Minho had a scheduled routine. He’d arrive from practice, unload his bag, fix himself a drink, and set up at his desk for the night. It was easy, normal. Occasionally, a beloved feline would climb itself into his lap, curled up while the man continued to work for a few more hours.

But, as he slowly opened the door only to witness you, passed out asleep where he usually sat, he can’t help but feel surprised.

And here Minho was thinking his butt was going to be the only thing making an imprint.

Your cheek, smushed into the skin of your forearm earns a quieted coo, his tone amusedly comforting when you grumble your dismay upon being poked. Time and time again he’s reminded of how enamoring you are. …Even when there’s drool smeared on your chin.

“Min…” You whine, half-asleep expression knitting with obvious frustration. He carefully (as if you weighed nothing) rolled the chair back, leaving just enough space that he could fit in between and see you face level.

Ducking down, Minho smiles giddily, head tipped to the side just like Soonie does, curious.

“Mm Bubby? What’re you doing sweetness?” He’d whisper, index tenderly swiping some saliva from off your slightly parted lips.

Good sleep, he thinks, chuckling to himself. You’re too cute for him to handle.

And if you had to name one trait of Minho’s you absolutely adore, right now it’d be is ability to turn on that “lovey-dovey” mode. That sugarcoated, saccharine voice he spoke to the kitties with.

It made you melt, even while barely conscious.

“..Bed…” You say, the words coming out as more of a grumble than anything, though your boyfriend seemed to translate no problem.

“Bed? Is my Y/n sleepy?” He teased, waiting to see if your biting ego takes action to no avail.

Minho, eyes softening, already begins shuffling his arms beneath your elbows, a reassuring peck to the outside of your lips causing you to involuntary grin — one that’s quickly returned.

Wrapping your legs around his waist like a tree-hugging Koala, a sturdy hand finds purchase on the back of your thigh, another sweeping disheveled strands of hair away from your eyes along the way.

You both release loud sighs of utmost relief upon flopping down onto the bed, his fingers nimbly unhooking the clasp of your bra while removing his shirt, allowing either of you supreme comfort. Not sexual nor inviting (not like you had any energy anyway), but familiar, loving.

“Long day?” You muttered, his equally familiar palms slipping beneath your top, simply resting atop your stomach. His groan is enough of an answer, breath deepening, eyelashes dusting closed.

Minho habits most people aren’t aware of? He’s touchy. Touchy in terms of wanting to know you’re there, feel you beside him while he sleeps whether that’s his knee wedged between your legs or a chin nuzzled into your shoulder when you wake up.

You love it. The sore shoulder blades, him kicking you from a nightmare, it’s always enjoyable.

You wouldn’t take it back for the world.

Before he would’ve stayed hunched over work for hours, graced by the enjoyable yet lonesome company of his kitties awaiting an unseen bedtime. Cycle in, cycle out.

Except, the first day you walked into his apartment, that loophole routine changed, drastically.

And for the better.

Like tonight, curled up around you like a protective blanket, his hair tickling the back of your neck, chest flush against the expanse of your bare back.

You understand each other, understand without having to say anything. Unspoken consideration, love. Consuming love.

Hard work, busy schedules, nonstop. But arriving home and finding you filling that once empty space, you who he loved with everything in his being, made everything feel worth it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[gay-dorito-dust]

I’d like to request head cannons on how kisses with the Lin Kuei are like, for example are they quick and short are they messy are they slow are they gentle ext.

Tomas Vrbada:

Kissing Tomas is sweet, it’s goofy, it’s excitable but most of all kissing Tomas is tender.

Almost as though if he pressed his lips any further against yours, you’d break and shatter, so you’d probably have to be the one who has to deepen the kiss.

and or reassure Tomas that he can kiss you deeper and that you’re not fragile. You under stood his concern but you would always voice whether or not something was right.

Your relationship with Tomas is firmly built on communication and trust in the other to respect the boundaries that’s been put in place.

You wholeheartedly trust him to not hurt you and vice versa.

During the act of kissing, Tomas would begin to smile against your lips, sighing softly in content as he allowed himself to be immersed in the moment and nothing else outside of it; believing to be a disservice to you.

Kissing you makes Tomas giddy and joyful to the point it’s contagious and you end up smiling again his lips in kind, enjoying how Tomas could make something like kissing light and bubbly. As though it was your first kiss.

That’s what it was truly like to kiss Tomas, like it was your first.

Bi-Han

Bi-Han is a rough/possesive kisser.

Can’t tell me otherwise.

The man had bottled up his emotions so much that when it comes to kissing, he’s going to be manhandling you a little with those big hands of his, and you’re going to end up with bruising lips.

His kisses are domineering but passionate in a raw way.

They’re the type of kisses that could easily get you riled up with how he kept a sense of dominance over you throughout the act, that you couldn’t help but melt into him from the intensity he brings to something as intimate as kissing.

Which is ironic considering he runs extremely cold.

He’s the type to grunt/groan during a kiss on some occasions but not all.

Another thing to remember that it depends on his mood during the kiss also because if he’s even remotely annoyed, the kiss is going to be rough, kinda sloppy but enjoyable nonetheless the less.

Kissing Bi-Han was like suffocating in the most pleasurable way possible.

Kuai Liang

Kissing Kuai Liang is reaffirming, warm, safe.

Reaffirming in the way that he didn’t need words to remind of how much he loved you and instead did so through kissing you breathless, ridding you of any and all insecurities you may have been feeling at the time.

His kisses are languid, slow and purposeful in remembering how your lips felt on his, that oftentimes you grow impatient with how slow his lips would weave between your own.

Kuai Liang finds your impatience hilarious and endearing but would remind you of the importance of self indulgence, for life is fleeting and short that it’s better to prolong intimate moments likes these whenever possible; you’ll never know when the next time it could happen, if ever.

Needless to say you stopped complaining about Kuai Liang’s slow, languid pace afterwards and instead chose to embrace the fact that Kuai Liang wanted to savour every last kiss he had with you, and committing it to memory so that when he’s out on missions; he would knew what he was fighting for and who was waiting for him back home.

You were his motivation, his reason to come back alive.

Kissing Kuai Liang was like willingly knowing that these moments were never built to last, but you’d spend the rest of your life savouring them for the instance where you couldn’t anymore.

[sstormyskyess]

Still Woozy

author's note: i was listening to my still woozy playlist and got the inspo to write some headcanons based on the songs i thought fit the boys! also wanted to write my first piece with alejandro so here it is 👍 [side note: all the songs refer to a woman/fem listener but for the sake of this, the reader is gn!]

cw: nothing, just fluff!

word count: 800+

TF-141 + Alejandro x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [Cooks]

♡ Ghost is a little clueless when it comes to romance and the things that come with it, having been in a toxic home for his younger years. Most of his ideas about romantic relationships come from the very few movies/shows featuring happy couples he’s seen, so his ideas on how to handle a real relationship are scarce and sometimes a bit misconstrued.

♡ But once he finds the one he loves, he’s ready and willing to try his best at figuring things out as he goes. Regardless, he’ll still be fairly lost in the early stages of a relationship.

♡ But don’t get it mistaken—if he’s in a relationship, he’s absolutely head over heels in love, and he’ll do his very best to keep everything working smoothly, even if that means messing up every now and then. He would rather die than hurt you, so be prepared for him to be asking a ton of questions; you may need to reassure him frequently to remind him that just him trying is enough.

John “Soap” MacTavish [Get By]

♡ Soap is a bit of a goofball in a committed romantic relationship, but it’s all for the sake of his partner because he lives to see them happy more than anything else.

♡ He loves to see you happy and practically any time he notices you not feeling your best, he’ll do what he can to bring your spirits up, whether that be taking you out on a nice, fancy date or just staying in and getting you to spare some time for yourself. He has a special place in his mind to remember all of the things that make you smile, like your favorite foods/restaurants and the media you like to engage with.

♡ As referenced in the song, though, he’s made a fool of himself for the sake of cheering you up a few times. It makes you feel bad, but it is quite funny watching him do the silliest things to make you laugh.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [Get Down]

♡ Gaz is a very dedicated partner and he would do damn near anything for them. He’s made it clear to you on multiple occasions that he can handle pampering you with anything you please, even if you tell him you don’t want to overwork him.

♡ He’s by no means a materialistic person, but he loves to spend his money on you. When he’s on leave, he loves taking you on vacations, big or small. He’ll buy you any little thing you may have your eyes on or have mentioned wanting in the past, because what else will he do with the money he gets from his job? After all, before you came into his life, he was a fairly frugal man, only spending money on what’s really necessary. Now, though, you’re his only real necessity, meaning you get spoiled one way or another.

♡ He also loves it when you get clingy and adores when you’re all over him like your life depends on it. It never gets overbearing for him and he wouldn’t trade the world for your love and attention.

John Price [Wolfcat]

♡ Despite being a rigidly authoritative person outside his home, when Price is alone with his partner in the safety of his own home, he is absolutely whipped. He’s a homebody at heart and he loves filling a domestic role in his intimate relationships.

♡ He’s most certainly a quality time enjoyer and he spends a good amount of time planning little activities for the two of you to engage in while he’s home on leave. He’ll try to mask it as him simply trying to keep himself occupied in place of the strict schedule he’s accustomed to on base, but it’s obvious to anyone that knows him well enough that he’s obsessed with being by your side.

♡ Not to mention, he loves a partner that can put him in his place when needed, since he knows he can be a little headstrong and stubborn. Disagreements turn into arguments, but he knows when to shut up with you because you’re very good at reminding him that he’s not invulnerable to being wrong.

Alejandro Vargas [Habit]

♡ Alejandro is a romantic man even if his work often comes first. But, if he had it his way, he would be spending all his waking moments with his partner. His carefully manufactured distance between his work and family has him feeling insecure about the stability of his relationships, but he always comes back to you, no matter what happens.

♡ He doesn’t fall in love quickly, always wanting to make sure that he’s making a sound decision on who he’s going to lavish with his affections. But he’ll be glued to you once he’s finally comfortable in his choice to settle down with you. He doesn’t do frivolity; everything he does is done with purpose and his love life is no different.

♡ He’ll also put in extra effort for you to have a good support system while he’s away so you never feel lonely, likely with his family. He has plenty of family to go around and he’ll use that to his advantage to keep you comfortable even without him in your presence.

𝐦𝐚���𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[moonsaver]

ok this is not really a request, but what would yan!dan heng be like? i barely see any yan!dan heng content and thats probably because I don't even know how he would behave. Would he silently obsess over you? Would he not let you leave the archives, taking his life when he was young as an example, giving you books as your only respite? Would the astral express crew be in on it?

I feel like yan!dan heng would be like a pathetic wet cat about it, acting unfeelingly but then begs and begs for your affection in private, guilt tripping you without noticing and then finally giving up and taking what he wants whether you like it or not.

Hello anon!

I understand your frustration, and tbh even i struggle a bit with characterizing yan!dan heng, so i havent been able to push out any of his content.

He's not an exact favorite either, so i wasnt at all bothered by the lack of content but i understand you (sunday enjoyer here).

Honestly, i think one of the major reasons its hard to character yan!dan heng is kind of because hes actually a bit of a mellow character who's pretty cozy. Im not thorough with his backstory but it seems like he's always trying to be on the down-low, and never do things that warrant attention. Yan!dan heng would, as a result, not be so different in my opinion. However, a few of his aspects do seem to be interesting as a result.

As far as i know of his character, yan!dan heng would probably be extremely secretive as a result,kind of the stalker-ish type, who gets insecure easily and has to constantly keep grounding himself about you. But whenever you're within the vicinity, his patience wears thin. It grows dreadful to handle over time.

If his obsession gets strong enough, he'll only frequent his darling more and more through mysterious means, the kind that makes his darling more paranoid and as a result, seek out refuge in him about their "stalker", not realizing who they're actually talking to. Yan!dan heng would probably gauge out how much info his darling has about their "stalker", and if it's too much, he adapts and finds more hidden and unnoticeable means. The only time i can see him officially tie down his darling is if they take the initiative to investigate what's been going on and find out his entire archives worth of information on darling, and dan heng being confronted by it. In a bit of a panic, he'd take countermeasure and his patience finally snaps.

Another flip side of him is what you mentioned. Depending on how far within yan!dan heng's grasp you're in, he would be very starved for any form of affection. He's been constantly leaving behind everything, running away from things, to the point he probably seldom feels like anything in his life is permanent. So when darling comes along, yan!dan heng is so so desperate, he won't show it at first because he'll try to resist and give darling space, but it just constantly snaps taut strings inside of him, and he can't help but cling onto you. You'll thrash and scream and yell at him but he's so eerily quiet, gripping you and crushing you against his chest. He feels so guilty about it, but he's just so lonely. He does guilt trip you sometimes, and gets you to quiet down, but who knows how often that'll last? He can't get himself to "punish" you often either, so he just gives you strict warnings and scoldings from time to time, but then his insecurities get the best of him, and he can't help but cling to you even in your sleep, afraid you'll slip away like everything. He has self-doubt very often, and his main way would be just to seek you out, and force himself onto you in any physical form of affection, even if you grumble and protest about it.

In any case, i feel yan!dan heng would be a luckily tolerable yandere.

[bosbas]

Chapter 5: I don't want you like a best friend

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, sexual tension, miscommunication (ish), benedict bridgerton being an idiot, anthony being a slayer in response

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

May 26, 1814 - Word has it that Benedict Bridgerton has returned from his mysterious disappearance to the countryside and was seen at White's with the Beaumont twins last night.

But more interestingly, the second Bridgerton brother was spotted with a certain Miss Y/N Beaumont about the town getting flavored ice in the growing summer heat, with Miss Beaumont appearing notably more joyous with him than during her interactions with other gentlemen she met at the Cowper Ball. While not privy to the intricacies of this friendship, this author does wonder whether Mr Bridgerton's newfound reappearance in the ton will affect Miss Beaumont's standing in the social season. Will suitors be too intimidated to pursue her? Though this matter might prove irrelevant, as Mr Bridgerton might decide to pursue Miss Beaumont himself...

Once again, you found yourself amidst the flurry of commotion that marked the afternoon before a ball. Only this time, you felt considerably less nervous knowing you had Benedict's company to look forward to. This would be your first time seeing him at a ball, dancing together outside the confines of either of your homes. You were quite accustomed to dancing with him. Both sets of your parents had been eager to teach their children the art of dancing, resulting in frequent informal post-dinner dancing lessons where you, more often than not, were paired off with Benedict. And you weren't complaining. He was a magnificent dancer, and you found you could just let go and allow him to take the lead while the two of you waltzed. Instead, you could focus on the feel of his steady hands on your waist, the handsome smile he cast down at you, or the shivers that ran up your spine when he would lean down to whisper something in your ear. Perhaps you were used to dancing with him, but that did not make it any less enjoyable.

Which is why you found yourself unable to keep still, excitedly humming and squirming around in the carriage bound for the Featherington residence. It was like your debut all over again, you thought, but with Ben being the only person who would be seeing you come out for the first time.

"Y/N, that's quite enough!" exclaimed Theo, clearly fed up with your antsy behavior. "Whatever is the matter? We are almost there; are you truly incapable of sitting still for a few more minutes?"

You glared at your older brother, choosing to ignore his comment but stilling your movements nonetheless. You were more than aware that Theo and Bastian were all but dragged to tonight's event by your mother, the pair being less than enthusiastic about attending a ball the very day they returned from their hunting trip, but you were not bothered one bit. If you had to go out and look for a husband ball after ball, they should, at the very least, be forced to be there as well. You envied their position in society, under no pressure to marry so soon and with complete freedom to do whatever they wanted, really. Your own literary pursuits were under somewhat of a time constraint unless you managed to find a suitable husband who would allow you the freedom to continue them, which was becoming increasingly unlikely as the season continued. Despite your mother's comforting words, assuring you that you did not have to marry this season, you honestly wondered how helpful another season would be if it was as fruitless as this one. You reasoned that you might just have to settle for someone you weren't particularly taken with, which was a dreadful thought, but at the very least, you were hoping to find someone who wasn't terribly dull.

After half an hour at the Featherington ball, you feared that "not terribly dull" might have been too high of an expectation to have for potential suitors. You were in the middle of a dance with some titled gentleman, his name you were not entirely sure of, who had been stunned into silence after you made a quip about a book you knew he should have read, as it was included in the Oxford curriculum you had been privy to courtesy of Benedict. Now, the two of you were dancing in complete silence, your eyes scanning the ballroom for any sign of your best friend. Just as you felt your foot being stepped on by your mute dance partner, you turned to see that Ben had entered the ballroom. The sharp pain in your foot was forgotten, and you relaxed, knowing you had an actually good dance to look forward to now.

Benedict eagerly entered the ballroom alongside his mother and older brother, immediately searching the crowd of people for you. Although he would never admit it, he was, for the first time in his life, properly excited for a ball. He knew he would be able to dance with you, granting a socially appropriate opportunity for him to hold on to your waist for a few minutes and feel the curve of your hips, occasionally getting close enough so he could smell your sweet perfume and whisper a silly comment in your ear. A comment that would no doubt make you laugh or at least giggle softly in a way that always seemed to elicit a warm feeling from his chest.

Unable to find you in the crowd, Benedict turned to Violet, who surely would know where you were by now, with a questioning look. She softened her features and gestured toward the dance floor, where Benedict could see you dancing with another man.

He barely heard his mother say over the roar in his ears, "She's out this year darling, with barely a spare moment away from a suitor or another," too focused on the man's hands on yours as he spun you around. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, he looked at Violet, who was already looking at him with a hint of concern. He swallowed thickly and put on a broad smile, not wanting to outwardly show what he was feeling.

"I suppose I'll be competing for her affections tonight, then. Hopefully she has space on her dance card," Benedict uttered, internally cringing.

Turning to Ben, Anthony leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't think that'll be too much of a problem, brother. If you'd read Whistledown in your time away, you'd know your dear best friend has scarcely been giving any gentlemen the time of day. At the Cowper ball, Colin and I were practically the only ones she danced with," he said with a meaningful look.

Ben looked puzzled, not entirely trusting his brother's account of your season so far. He probed further, "A couple of men asked the twins about her at White's last night, so I just assumed she was having a lot of success." At the mention of the gentleman's club, Violet excused herself and went to go chat with some other mamas milling about the ballroom.

"She is having a lot of success, to be sure. Lots of gentlemen callers and the like. I just don't believe she actually likes anyone just yet," Anthony explained, seeing Benedict's shoulders relax just a fraction.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Ben responded, "Oh. That's a shame then that she hasn't found anyone she connects with."

"Are you sure you think it's a shame?" came Anthony's teasing reply, earning him a small shove from Benedict.

Just before Anthony could return the shove, you came up to the Bridgertons, walking as fast as was appropriate at an event like this. "Oh, thank heavens!" you exclaimed. "I thought the dance would never end. What good is an Oxford degree if you haven't even read The Odyssey?"

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your exasperated demeanor, making a dig at your previous dance partner. But Ben was too eager to get you to himself. He softly grasped your wrist and took hold of your dance card, wordlessly asking for your permission. You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"I can't say yes if you don't ask, Ben," came your response. Yes, he was your best friend, but he needed to show some decorum. Besides, you really wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth, needing the sweet sound engrained in your mind so you could revisit the scene later when you were in bed playing over the best parts of the night.

Stifling a smile and giving you a slight bow, Benedict looked deep into your eyes and flashed you the most charming, rakish grin he could muster. "Miss Y/N Beaumont, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" he spoke lowly, sending you a cheeky wink.

A simple "yes" from you would have sufficed, but you were finding it difficult to form any words at all. Your throat had gone dry, and you were astounded by the intense effect his words had on you. Having such a close relationship, the two of you were as informal as could be. But here, in this ballroom, barely even touching you, Ben had managed to leave you feeling warm and out of breath with a more formal tone than you had ever heard him speak to you. You maintained eye contact with him, licking your lips in a failed attempt to get something out to indicate that, yes, you desperately wanted to dance with him. You settled for a quick nod, pushing your dance card-clad wrist further in his direction.

He clasped your hand in both of his, reaching his fingers to touch your own. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. "I can't take you to the dance floor if you don't say anything, Y/N," he retorted, throwing back your earlier words. You finally broke eye contact, shaking your head and looking down, laughing at yourself.

"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. I would be delighted," came your airy response. Your breath hitched in your throat as he interlocked his fingers with yours and put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd during the short walk back to the dance floor.

"Very well, Miss Beaumont. But I insist you must call me Benedict," he said from behind you, lips dangerously close to your ear. You waited until you reached the dance floor, fighting goosebumps, and spun around to face him.

"Am I not allowed to call you Ben anymore, then?" you teased.

Ben could only smile down at you, a twinkle in his eye, "You can call me anything you like, darling."

Before you had time to process his words, which had undoubtedly left you breathless, the music started, and the two of you began dancing. It was a wonderfully familiar feeling, and you were gliding through the ballroom with ease, working perfectly in sync during every step, turn, and twirl. You were delighted. After far too long dancing with uninteresting or uncoordinated suitors, you could finally relax and just enjoy the dance, as well as the feeling of Ben's hand touching yours.

"So how is it, really? Looking for a husband?" Benedict asked after you had found a good rhythm.

Immediately, the topic clouded your features. You were unable to meet his gaze for fear of tears springing in your eyes. You bit your lip and composed yourself, blinking away any tears that had formed. With Ben, you could just be yourself; there was no need to pretend to want something you most certainly did not.

"Ummm... it's proven to be a challenge," you started, sniffling slightly. "Rather, I knew it would be challenging, but I didn't know how impossible it would feel. Every man wants a perfect, mindless housewife, and I fear I will be unable to fulfill that role. I want something different, Ben," you said, finally looking into his eyes. You were met with his sympathetic gaze, searching your face to take in all of your minuscule expressions. His hand softly squeezed your waist as you continued, "And I don't know if I will ever find someone who will allow me to do that. I can tell because barely anyone shows interest after they truly start to get to know me and can't keep up with the conversation," you added with a small laugh.

After twirling you around, he spoke, "I know, I can't say I envy your position. Truthfully, I would rather do anything other than get married at the moment, so I cannot imagine how you're feeling."

His words were thrown out almost casually, but you felt a stabbing pain in your gut as he said them. You already knew he didn't want to marry you. It would never work. He was your best friend. But it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. You were saved from having to respond by being twirled around again, so you simply nodded at him to continue, not trusting yourself to speak.

He sensed a change in your demeanor and thought that perhaps the prospect of marriage so soon was still a sensitive topic, so he tried to offer words of comfort. "At least you don't seem to have a lot of serious suitors right now. That way, you have time before you actually have to settle down."

But as soon as his words left his mouth and your face fell, he knew they were the wrong ones. You were staring off into the distance, refusing to make eye contact with him. The dance was almost over, and the pair of you were nearing Anthony once again, so Benedict knew he had to fix this in the next few moments while the two of you still had any semblance of privacy. Scrambling, he desperately searched for the correct words to say, blurting out the first thing he thought of to make you feel better.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I promise. You are so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and caring, and kind, and any man would be crazy to not want to marry you. With time, I am certain you will find a suitor who feels this way," came his rushed response.

Stunned into silence, seconds away from breaking down into sobs, you cut the dance short, disentangled your hands from Benedict's, and rushed to the ballroom exit, hoping not to cause a scene. The stabbing pain in your stomach was migrating to your chest. You were struggling to breathe and had tears blurring your vision, but luckily, you saw your mother near the exit and grabbed her hand, pulling her with you. She threw a startled apology over her shoulder at whoever she had been talking to and stopped you once you had left the ballroom.

Turning you around and firmly putting your hands on your shoulders, she scolded, "Whatever is the matter, Y/N? Why on earth would you–"

Stopped short by the sight of tears streaming down your cheeks, she softened and opted instead to hold you tightly to her, shushing you and stroking your hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.

You let out a choked sob, shaking your head. Primrose kissed the top of your head, not letting you go.

"That's alright, sweeting; we'll just leave the ball early then. Would you like that?"

You could only nod, holding onto her as she led you outside to the carriage. Desperate to go home and emotionally exhausted, you let yourself be directed into your seat and all but collapsed on top of your mother as soon as she was inside as well.

Back in the ballroom, Benedict stood frozen, looking in the direction you had run off in. Despite his utter confusion at your quick change in mood, he felt a crushing weight in his chest at being the cause of your distress. He thought things had been going quite well, actually. He had no idea why he had not been able to soothe you, usually an expert at reading your emotions, and had instead worsened the situation considerably. Wide-eyed, he turned to look at Anthony, who stood a few feet away. Ben was still stunned but shrugged at his brother, muttering, "Women" as an explanation for your sudden distress.

Benedict certainly had not been expecting Anthony to coddle him, but he could not help but be shocked when his brother's face transformed into a furious scowl, fists forming at his sides. He had barely reached his brother's side when Benedict felt Anthony's finger poking his chest aggressively.

"You are a complete and utter buffoon," whispered Anthony harshly, hoping to avoid a scene despite his overflowing anger. Benedict only sputtered in confusion, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I heard the last bit of your conversation, and obviously, this is a sensitive topic for Y/N. A large part of the reason no man has bothered to keep pursuing her is that they know the two of you have an incredibly strong 'friendship,'" continued Anthony in the same tone of voice, emphasizing the word 'friendship.' "You would know this if you bothered to talk to anyone at White's last night or kept up with your supposed best friend at all. But you were off in the countryside doing god knows what for whatever reason, and she had to face this alone."

Ire bubbled up in Benedict, feeling that his brother's response was uncalled for. "I cannot possibly have elicited this level of aggression from you. What the hell does Y/N's search for a husband have to do with me? Who she marries is entirely her choice," shot back Ben in the same angry whisper Anthony had been speaking in.

Anthony stepped back, looking at Benedict with disbelief. "You are either completely blind or the biggest fool I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Benedict reeling, still stunned, not to mention confused. He was replaying every interaction he had with you tonight, trying to find what he said or did that might have set you off, and, hopefully, trying to find a way to fix this.

---

Cass sat perched on your bed, where you lay in your night robe with a puffy face from the extensive crying you had done the previous night. Your mother had been discreet upon returning to your home, but your younger sister had inevitably heard you both come in and went to greet you in hopes of knowing what transpired at the Featherington Ball. Not wanting to explain your heartbreak to either of them in the moment, you had gone straight to your room and locked the door, not even allowing your lady's maid to help you out of your gown. But you knew you could not avoid your sister forever. So when morning came, Cass had slipped in before the rest of the Beaumonts rose. She found you already awake, staring out the window.

"Cass, I fear I have gotten myself into a most precarious situation," you started. She said nothing, opting instead to pat your leg in support. Her eyes grew wide as you briefly recounted your dance with Ben the previous night. You were near tears again, the pain of rejection still fresh.

"Well, I think Benedict Brigerton is an idiot. And a massive one, at that," your sister huffed out once you were finished speaking.

You let out a wet laugh in surprise, chastising her, "Cassandra! You must not use such foul language!"

"It's rather warranted in this situation, actually," responded Cass. Ever the fiery personality, you appreciated her fierce protectiveness in this moment.

"Honestly, I've gone over our conversation about a million times since it happened, and I don't think he actually said anything wrong. He doesn't want to marry. I don't have to worry about getting married right at this very moment, and I will eventually find someone who wants to marry me. Someone who is not him," you said carefully.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but you pushed through, needing to say this out loud. "All of this is true. If Colin or Anthony or anyone else had said this, I would be inclined to agree with them. I think-" you paused, composing yourself.

"I think I have genuine feelings for him, which I had not entirely realized were there, or at least I had not categorized them as... whatever they actually are," you finished, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face now. Cass reached over to hug you and moved to sit next to you on top of your covers.

You were still sniffling when she spoke up, "I was wondering how long it would take you to realize." Seeing your dirty look, she let out a laugh, "Sorry! I'm sorry! It was just quite obvious to me. Or to anyone with eyes, probably."

You put your head against the headboard behind you, closing your eyes in frustration and responding, "It's just very inconvenient that I feel this way. Obviously, he does not feel the same, which is obviously alright," you shot Cass a pointed look, warning her not to interject. "So, I believe that to actually find a husband, I must change my friendship with Benedict. Slightly."

"How do you mean?" asked Cass.

Rubbing your temples, you answered her, "Perhaps, seeing him less. So I'm not distracted. And so I stop comparing every suitor to him. And maybe not dancing at balls anymore. To have more time to dance with actual potential husbands. And because I do believe I will fall in love with him if we keep dancing like we did last night, which would not be helpful in the least." You had stopped crying now, your plan of action filling you with resolve.

"Are you implying that you aren't already in love with him? Because we both know that's not tr-" Cass attempted to say, before getting hit by one of your pillows square in the face. But this time, you were laughing with her. It was all going to be alright. You would find someone, and your feelings for Ben would soon become a thing of the past.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

[changisworld]

any hard thoughts about lee know? 👀

~ j

Hi j!

of COURSE i have hard thoughts of this man, who the hell DOESNT?!

this was pre-written ready to post but this was the perfect ask for me to post this to so THANK YOU

PSA FOR ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone’s requests i’m just sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i’ll post it!! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji u wanna be!<3

Word count; 911

18+, MDNI!!

main masterlist here

LEEKNOW HARD THOUGHTS

this man is obsessed with you & i MEAN IT! Leeknow loves to show this to you by making you feel as if you are on cloud9 every time you get into bed. He gets you SO riled up by doing the simplest things, whether that be from simply holding your waist as you both brush your teeth, twirling your hair or playfully biting you.

In bed however, he knows he is filing you up & knows exactly how to tease you. Says things like;

“but i am touching you baby, what else do you want? tell me” As he is teasing your folds with his fingertips, avoiding your needy clit completely.

“You want my tongue so badly? beg me for it then.” He would say, cat eyes looking up at you as he is in-between your thighs blowing cold air onto your puffy cunt.

“you take me so well baby, i have no idea how you’re always this tight.” He says as he finally buries himself inside you, your walls welcoming him like a really tight warm hug.

“already gonna cum? cum for me then but i wont be stopping until you squirt then baby.” (this man definitely has a huge kink for you cumming in general but especially squirting??)He groans as he is already pounding into you, your cunt is definitely not gonna be pain free later, already red from the constant abuse it’s getting from his dick, pelvis hitting against it & his fingers.

DEFINITELY DEFINITELY DEFINITELY has a dick around 6 inches & thick & KNOWS how to use it. He is all for ��vanilla’ sex & enjoys it a lot but he knows you love dirty talk so he makes sure to make sure you know how dirty you are, letting him fuck you open as your eyes are leaking tears from the pleasure. he loves overstimulation especially on you, he loves watching you squirm around him, trying to get away from the pleasure but also to try get more.

He’s 100% more of a dom but he has let you switch roles a handful of times mainly for your enjoyment but he would be lying if he didn’t find it hot as fuck to watch you get off on him, using his thigh, stomach, dick or even face to get yourself off. He likes to say that he’s ‘acting’ when he lets out whines, begs & pleas to fit into the ‘sub role’ but you both know it’s leaving his lips subconsciously.

“M-mommy plea-se can i have your cunt… need it so bad” He whines as you edge him for the 3rd time.

“s-slow down! t-too wet, guna cu-cum!” he stresses with glossy eyes, trying to hold back but doesn’t dare touch you since you told him not to.

Definitely has an oral fixation, whether that be him watching you swallow his cock around your lips, gagging & gurgling as spit drips down your chin & his thighs, him watching you suck his fingers as he plays with your clit, eyes glossy or even you letting him suck your fingers which he always gladly accepts. He LOVES LOVES kissing you, tongues wrapping around eachother, fighting for dominance, the taste of your lips has him addicted. Loves biting your lips as he kisses you just to hear you whine. LOVES eating you out, he might even say it’s his favourite part of sex with you, your taste all over his tongue & lips could be all he tastes forever & he would be happy. knows exactly where to nibble, lick & suck.

“You taste better than pudding y/n, they should take inspiration.” He says nonchalantly as if your eyes aren’t rolling back through your skull & your juices aren’t all over his cheeks & nose.

“ahh, you like when i lick you here too now huh? i’ll remember that baby, can ya cum if i keep it up hm?” he asks with a slight cheeky grin, knowing he found another hidden sweet spot.

“cunt is so wet, so sloppy all for me baby, you’re dripping absolutely everywhere.” he says with a slight cheer in his voice, watching & feeling you clench around nothing.

This man doesn’t really have a favourite position since he knows how to adjust how he fits inside you to make you both see stars regardless but if he had to choose, he would choose mating press since that is the position that gets you into the floaty cloudy state you beg him to put you into.

He isn’t insecure of himself at all so likes to use vibrators, handcuffs, dildos & flavoured lube to make it even more enjoyable for you both & to also help achieve what you both want out of each specific time you are in bed, if it is a bed you’re both in seeing since this man has no issues with fucking you in every square inch of your house.

This man is an aftercare king tbh, always has water next to the bed & drowns you in kisses & cuddles & most of the time will let you choose something to watch, already knowing it’s gonna be the same few random movies you’re obsessed with & he thinks he can recite every single sentence at this point.

“You did so well baby, let me do this to you” He says as he pulls out slowly, eyes darting from your cunt to your flushed out face, his cheeks blushed along with his ears too.

“I love you so much y/n, my favourite thing on this earth is you.” He mumbles into your neck as he kisses it softly.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Drawing each other (CRPS 1/2)

I'm probably going to forget to break these posts up unless like- I dont write all the fandom parts at once so I'm sorry you guys have to see the same prompt but different groups of characters/fandoms over and over LMAO

Characters: slenderman, splendorman, masky, hoodie, ticci toby

Notes: reader is GN, admin tossed a coin on whether or not the reader is an artist or not

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

neither of you are... good artists... but neither of you are about to judge one another for your skill levels

im... not even sure hes picked up a pencil before in his life, and that shows in his drawing of you

he keeps the art you make of him tucked away somewhere, where exactly... youre not actually sure, but you know he keeps them as youve caught him holding them before

you keep his drawings of you tucked away somewhere where they cant be damaged

... its not the best bonding activity, but its a nice little moment between the two of you that feels... normal

SPLENDORMAN

he love love loves watching you draw, so when you approached him with this idea hes over the moon! you want to draw him? and you want him to draw you as well? say no more!

hes not insanely skilled, but he doodles here and there! likes using bright colors, so expect his drawing of you to be vibrant! if you let him hes going to add extra stuff such as glitter and stickers! youre not sure where he gets them...

waits patiently for you to finish your drawing, he even does his best to sit as still as possible so you can get a better reference of him

even if its not your best work- in your opinion- hes going to treat it like its the greatest piece of art made by anyone ever

hangs it up on the fridge, and will constantly praise you

is it a little much? ...yes... but damn it hes going to let you know how much he loves it!

MASKY

i like to think that proxies are the ones who create slenders pages, and... well they arent exactly pretty, a lot being just scribbles

doesnt find much enjoyment in drawing, but he may agree to do this with you

now you on the other hand, you like drawing... and its likely masky may pick up on some of the things you do when making it, even if you dont notice him hes somewhere watching you

his drawing of you has the scratchy look a lot of the pages have... but since hes given more time to work on it, it looks a lot nicer than some of the pages even if theres some flaws in the anatomy and all

quietly looks at the drawing youve made of him, he doesnt seem offended by your portray of him so at least you have that going for you!

gently places it on the table, but youre sure hes going to put it in his stash somewhere in the house to keep for later

HOODIE

not much of an artist, and neither are you

generally the interaction is pretty light hearted, even if there isnt much talking between the two of you

very proud of his drawing of you, even if it ends up being a mass of colors that only slightly resemble you- similar to masky, theres a lot of that scratchy black scribbling on his drawing of you

gives you a thumbs up when he receives your drawing of him, he doesnt say anything but thats to be expected from him

tucks it into the back pocket of his pants

TICCI TOBY

he cant draw, but you can... it leads to a.. funny exchange

you put so much time into drawing him how you view him, even if its just a quick colored sketch, its going to look like mona lisa compared to what toby is about to show you

you both poke fun at the skill difference between the two of you, it quickly leads to the both of you needing to take minute in order to catch your breath

hes not interested in art, or improving his skills however hes going to jump at the idea of you offering to teach him some stuff

just to spend time with you, really! there isnt much spare time to do that given his being a proxy thing... likes any excuse to hang around

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Love Story 💗 | Loki Headcanon

Link to my Marvel Masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no

Loki being in a relationship with a romance novelist would look like:

As a close friend to Tony Stark growing up with your mothers being close friends before Maria's untimely death, you were invited to most things Tony orchestrated. Parties, expos, an all that jazz. It was at an event for the Avengers that you first met Loki, brother of the Mighty Thor.

And actually, Thor was the one who introduced the two of you--despite Tony's objections--after discovering your profession and love of literature. Instantly Loki was intrigued but kept his usual demeanor of stoic and disinterest in Midgardians. Yet it diminished as you were able to keep a conversation with him, and keep it interesting, unlike the other Avengers he constantly found annoying.

Honest to God, his first impression when you revealed your profession would’ve been like, “what a naive mortal. There’s a reason what you desire of romance is mere fantasy and only found in the books you write,” and not taken your work serious compared to other literary publications.

Loki always migrated to historical fiction and the works of Shakespeare, Dante, and anything else you might find on a high schooler's summer reading list.

That opinion quickly evaporated upon the first few interactions you two had. Because you were a published author it left Loki with curiosity. Although he'd never admit it aloud, deep down he wanted to know just how your writing process worked and if the stories were inspired by real life events or something you wished to experience.

What initially was supposed to be Loki only reading your debut novel, turned into him purchasing your entire collection of works. And boy was he captivated. You're writing drew him in like a siren luring men to sea. Page after page, Loki found himself in the late hours of the night until the sun rose the next morning, nose deep into your books.

At first Loki planned to keep his enjoyment of your books secret, but then he just couldn't contain it any longer.

What surprised you, was when he started giving his feedback. Discussing his thoughts on the characters and plot. "How could she take him back after saying those things to her? Absolutely unacceptable. No matter how angry I am I'd never that to my partner." "Y/n, I really think you should give the people what they want and write a second novel to 'Seven Nights in Paris,'--In fact it should be call it something like, 'Seven Weeks in London.'

Eventually as the two of you became close and the relationship blossomed, Loki became an integral part in your writing. Both as a reviewer and a muse.

At the core the God was a romantic. The type to not only sway you with words and gestures but reaffirm your values and expectations in a partner. He listened, he communicated, goes the mile to ensure your happiness and needs are met. Whether it be taking you to a nice dinner or leaving notes with your morning coffee already made, your heart was full of love and didn't have to hear Loki say to know his was too.

Moments of your relationship with Loki paralleled in your books. You couldn't help it at times. The writer in you would get so inspired that before you knew it the love interest's dialogued mirrored words he said to you. An argument between the protagonists was awfully similar to one you two had. Poured the feelings of when you two kiss into the scenes the characters finally break the tension.

Yeah, he'd give you his famous smirk to let you know he was onto you to which you'd shrug and say, "Felt inspired." "By me, love?" "Always by you, mischief."

And so it's no surprise to Loki or anyone close to y'all when you release your anticipated novel, about a hopeless romantic writer who meets a misunderstood God from another world, on the day you two exchange vows and rings. Putting your own love story on the shelves for the world to see.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.13

Summary: Wednesday has to admit, she had never anticipated her family taking to you in such a way. Nor did she expect everything else she witnessed during your visit. Maybe, just maybe, she does have a feeling or two for you.

Word Count: 7.1k Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Everyone But Her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn-backup @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets

Wednesday Addams was not jealous. She had brought you into her home, had invited you to meet her family, had sacrificed most of her free time to be with you. And you went and spent time with her family instead, whether playing poker with Grandmama, or talking with Pugsley, or sneaking off with her mother and father. Every opportunity you got to spend time with them was taken in an instant.

But she wasn’t jealous.

She didn’t feel anything, really.

Not a single thing as she watched her father throw the sword at you and attack. It was a right of passage, everyone in the Addams family knew how to defend themself, she knew that. But watching you nearly drop it, barely moving in time to stop her father’s foil from piercing your heart? Her fingers shook as she turned the page in her book, nearly blinking at the sudden ring of steel as you deflected it. When he swept your legs and you fell so hard Wednesday felt the couch shake from the impact.

Later, you showed her the large bump on the back of your head and she begrudgingly held the ice pack to your head, but she felt nothing.

She felt nothing when she walked into the room and saw you sizing up Lurch. He had been warned that you were out for victory, so he paid you no mind. But you got up slowly and stalked him, staying out of his sight until you were close enough to exact your plan. Her heart raced as you pulled your fist back and she rushed to stop you, ignoring how soft your skin was. She watched your lips move as you talked but she didn’t hear a word.

When she caught you before another fight and you didn’t remove your fist from her hand, she felt nothing.

She felt nothing when Officer Vinny showed up at their door asking for you. In a surprise twist of fate, she didn’t see red when he talked to you, only an uneasiness in her stomach that made her want to curl up into a ball. But that uneasiness turned bearable, enjoyable even when he explained what you had been accused of, and she saw the remnants of black eyeshadow on your skin. She had thought you just weren’t sleeping well. No, she was wrong, you had ferociously defended her brother, and for what? No promise of any reward or retribution.

And when Pugsley couldn’t stop talking to you as they cleaned you up and you gave him the most loving smile she had ever seen, she felt nothing.

But she did feel something as was laying on her bed on the fourth night, not quite seething but something else. You had abandoned her throughout the day and no one would tell her where you had gone. They hadn’t even let her know if you were still in the house or not. In fact, she didn’t even see evidence of your existence until dinner when you sat down beside her as if you hadn’t vanished for the entire day.

It was impossible to sleep after she had left you at the table. You had tried to talk to her, she would give you credit for that, but not once had you attempted to explain your absence. It had made her feel… pity. That’s what it was. Pity for herself for not having you near her, talking with her, just being with her. 

She had felt it on occasion at Nevermore, usually when you were stuck in detention all weekend, but this felt different. You were practically within arm’s reach, she just couldn’t find you. It was the first time she had ever felt alone in her own home. And she hated you for it.

Okay, maybe she was seething. Just a little bit.

Three knocks on her door brought her out of the anger she was working herself into. She knew of only one person who knocked three times in quick succession, and she wasn’t in the mood for the visit. But then the door opened with a small groan, and shuffling feet.

“Wednesday?” You whispered. “Are you awake?”

Don’t answer, her mind told her. No, she was still mad at you. You had made her feel so many negative emotions in her own home. This was supposed to be her space to be herself, to do as she wished with no judgment. Then you had to come in and throw everything around as if you owned the place. Your absence made her feel alone.

It was exactly why she answered you.

“Yes,” she said, just as quiet.

She kept her eyes glued to the ceiling but listened with bated breath as you shut the door and shuffled across the room. Something fell to the floor and you let out a whispered “fuck” before she could hear you trying to fix whatever had broken. It was almost humorous when, after a few minutes of fumbling around, she heard a frustrated groan before pieces were set back down and you shuffled around some more.

“Move over.” You were standing at the edge of the bed in your big shirt and pyjama pants, and Wednesday couldn’t help herself.

You crawled into the bed as she moved over, and the bed dipped underneath you. It felt like ages as you shifted around, twisting and turning, trying to get into any sort of comfortable position. If you had been anyone else, she would have instantly pushed you out. But when she felt your fingers graze her arm as you finally settled, her breath caught in her throat and she tensed even more than usual.

You were on your side. You were on your side and your hands were tucked under your jaw and you were looking at her. Wednesday could feel your eyes staring holes into the side of her head and she couldn’t properly catch her breath. The last time you had been this close was after she had cleaned your hands. But this? There was no barrier, you were completely, entirely attentive.

It was too much.

“Why are you looking at me?” Wednesday asked with a huff.

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust,” you shot back. “You’re so- so- so condemnatory.”

“Impressive,” she said, finally shifting to lay on her own side to look at you. You looked- stop it. “That’s a big word for you.” She could hear your feathers ruffle behind you. “Incorrect, but impressive.”

“You’re insufferable,” you argued. The furrow in your brows did nothing to erase the fact that Wednesday could see your feathers fluffing up. Your frustration, it seemed, was betrayed by your body.

“Well if that’s how you feel, then leave,” she said.

The way your face instantly relaxed would have been comical if her heart hadn’t started to race at the sight of you. You, in your too-big shirt that swallowed even you up. You, with the bright eyes that shone even in the dark of the room. You, who had somehow, at some point, moved closer until she could practically feel the warmth of your skin.

You, who was looking at her as if you were afraid to lose her.

“I don’t want to leave.” Your voice was too soft, and you were too close, and Wednesday wanted to simultaneously pull you closer and push you away.

“Why not?” She asked. Your eyes showed vulnerability, but they quickly relaxed and you rolled your eyes and turned your head to look at the door.

“I think your house is haunted,” you said as if you hadn’t just given her the most horrifically attractive look. Attractive? “Sounds like a couple of demons.”

“That’s just my parents,” Wednesday said, ignoring her embarrassing thoughts about your physical appearance. “You get used to it.”

“Your what?” You asked incredulously. “It doesn’t, like, gross you out?”

“Why would it?”

“Well…” you let out a huff. “I don’t know, they’re just… painfully open about it.”

“Hence my lack of desire for physical touch,” Wednesday said simply.

She regretted it instantly when your head turned back to her with a look that she couldn’t decipher. But she could decipher the way you eyed the space between you both and discreetly pulled back until you were hanging over the edge of the bed. And that increased distance was almost… unbearable.

She didn’t mean it.

You both laid there in silence, your eyes no longer on hers but instead on the insurmountable space between you both. All the while Wednesday couldn’t stop looking at you. The bags under your eyes - genuine ones this time - were getting larger. Were you sleeping? Were you comfortable in your room? Now that you were in her room, she couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly happy in her home or not.

She wanted to reach out and hold your hand. It was becoming a constant desire, she realised, and she wasn’t entirely disgusted with the idea. Not in the privacy of her own bedroom where it was only you and her. The world could just melt away and she wouldn’t notice because she was so completely focused on you.

“I should go,” you said after far too long.

And when you moved to get up, the intolerable feeling of anxiety started gnawing at her once again. Your hand pressed against the mattress to push yourself up, and in a moment of sheer panic, Wednesday reached out and grabbed it. Your eyes flickered back and forth from your joined hands to her face.

“You can stay.”

She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, admit that the thought of you leaving her alone, especially after abandoning her all day, was enough to keep her from sleeping. Never in her life had she let someone preoccupy her mind to the point she was incapable of falling asleep. But you seemed to make her experience a lot of new things.

“Okay,” you said softly. The bed shifted and creaked once again as you settled back down, moving just close enough so you weren’t hanging off the side as you had been.

“Don’t touch me while I’m trying to fall asleep,” she said harshly as she turned onto her back once again.

“Whatever you say, Wednesday,” you chuckled lightly.

Neither one of you brought up the fact that she was still holding your hand.

—---

Everyone had already started to arrive before you were even finished getting ready. Wednesday had eagerly offered to find you and help you get ready, but her father had quickly ushered her back to the ballroom. “I’ve got it,” he had said to a very disgruntled Wednesday.

Which was precisely how Wednesday found herself; dancing with relatives as she waited impatiently for you to arrive.

It was a far more enjoyable evening than the Rave’N, she wouldn’t dare deny it. At least at her own home there were no expectations. Not that she followed them anyway, but it was a little exhausting to subvert everyone’s expectations all the time. Here, she could do whatever she wanted with no consequences because everyone here was an Addams.

Except for you.

“Waiting for someone?”

Wednesday didn’t bother turning her head, but she did smile to herself when Uncle Fester grabbed her hands and pulled her into a dance. It had been a while since he had last been at the house. She always enjoyed - truly enjoyed - seeing him.

“A friend,” she answered.

“A special friend?” He asked again as he spun her around without a care in the world.

“Certainly no-”

Wednesday froze mid-dip when, even upside down, she saw you finally walking into the room with her father. He was wearing his usual eccentric outfit, but you. Oh, you. Restless hands tugged at the bottom of a familiar Victorian tuxedo that was a little too short. Your bowtie was snug and you looked-

“-What a looker,” Uncle Fester said as he pulled her back up. “You certainly know how to pick ‘em.”

“Don’t I?” She said breathlessly.

Around anyone else, she never would have admitted such a thing, wouldn’t have even hinted at it. But around Uncle Fester, she could be a little more open. He would never compare her to her parents, it was completely, entirely her. So when she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her skull as she walked toward you, she knew it was out of love, not out of comparison or judgment.

“The tux looks nice,” Wednesday said as she finally approached you. The relieved smile you gave her gave her those old, familiar spiders in her stomach once again.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “Your dad said it belonged to your- your Uncle? Uh, Uncle KnickKnack?” You said with so much uncertainty that Wednesday almost wanted to laugh.

“Yes, I remember,” Wednesday said as she reached forward to straighten your bowtie. You stiffened under her fingers. “He was wearing this when he died.”

“He what!?” You sputtered, looking at her with wide eyes. “I’m wearing a dead man’s suit!?”

“Calm down,” she shook her head, “it’s not like he needs it.”

“What if he comes back to haunt me?” You asked.

“What is your obsession with being haunted?”

“If anyone is gonna haunt me, it’s your family,” you scoffed, finally holding your arm out for Wednesday to take. “And the only Addams I want haunting me is you.”

Oh.

“If you want one of us, you get all of us,” Wednesday said instead. It was a weird way for her to say I want you haunting me too. Hopefully you received the message loud and clear. “Come on. We have some mingling to do.”

“Yes ma’am,” you answered dutifully with a slight dip of your head and an irksome, crooked smile

Wednesday had to admit, you did well. Meeting everyone, remembering names, remembering to compliment them as only an Addams would. Surprisingly, you got along well with cousin Itt and Margaret. Well, more so Margaret, she was an Addams by marriage instead of blood, much like yo-

-Wednesday went rigid at how effortlessly the thought had entered her mind.

“Give me a sec, I see Pugs,” you whispered into her ear as if you hadn’t noticed her going stiff.

You carefully pulled your arm away and gave her a smile before walking off to where Pugsley and Thing were standing. All the while, Wednesday couldn’t get her mind back in check. Something had betrayed her, you were not an Addams, by blood nor marriage. Why had that thought even occurred to her? And why had it occurred so effortlessly?

Margaret was talking to her, she was aware of that, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching you with Pugsley, Thing, and now Uncle Fester. Your hands gestured wildly and you moved around as Thing crawled over your shoulders and across your back. It seemed like you were arguing, but very quickly Uncle Fester and Thing started dragging you into a closet.

Her foot tapped the floor as she waited, eyes glued to the closet door. What were they doing to you in there? Why had they taken you in there in the first place? She turned to Pugsley who just shot back a half-apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders. Traitor.

The closet door flew open as you were practically shoved out, your wings flapping enough to keep you up on your feet. Thing was on your shoulder with a pair of scissors while Uncle Fester was still messing with the back of your tuxedo. Whatever he was doing had your wings fluffing up and shaking. The wide-eyed look on your face turned into a scowl, and you reached back and slapped his hand away, giving him a stern finger in his face. With what little sense he had left, Thing quickly jumped ship and went to Uncle Fester.

Gods, Wednesday wished she could have heard what you said to them.

But as you walked back to where Wednesday was standing, she was suddenly entranced. Yes, you had looked rather stunning in the ancient tuxedo to begin with, but with your wings out, curled protectively around your shoulders? It was almost angelic. She had never thought she would find such a thing beautiful.

There was always an exception, she supposed.

“There’s about to be two less Addamses in the world,” you grumbled as your fingers fussed with the hem of the tux.

“Spin,” Wednesday demanded. You rolled your eyes, but did as she asked.

There, on the back of the tux, were two very large, very poorly cut holes where your wings were now sprouting. If she looked close enough, she could almost see the skin underneath; it almost looked raw, like a scar that hadn’t fully healed. You completed the spin before she could get a proper look.

“Ruined a dead man’s tux,” you said with an uptick of your lips. “He’s haunting me for sure now.”

“He means well,” Wednesday said when she noticed the thumbs up and wink Uncle Fester sent her way. It brought the smallest amount of heat to her cheeks.

“If he comes near me with scissors again, I’m stabbing him,” you said as you finally straightened up once again. With your wings you looked… regal.

“I’m sure he-”

“-May I have this dance?” Uncle Fester asked, holding his hand out for Wednesday to take.

“She would love to,” you answered for her. Without an ounce of hesitation, you put Wednesday’s hand in Uncle Fester’s and stepped back until he was pulling her to the center of the room.

Wednesday did her best to keep track of you as Uncle Fester twirled her around, carrying her across the entire ballroom. For a moment she lost you, and an unusual, unnamed feeling settled in the back of her throat. It was worse than swallowing molten lead. Only when she saw you across the room, dancing and laughing with Pugsley, did it dissipate just enough to ease the nausea growing in her stomach.

Before the song officially ended, you disappeared once again and that heaviness made a reappearance. Her head twisted this way and that, desperately searching for you. Uncle Fester was smiling down at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. Why would he look at her like that? He only ever did that when he was scheming.

Three taps on her shoulder.

Uncle Fester spun her, letting go mid-spin and his hand was quickly replaced with someone else’s. She was pulled close and when she looked up, she saw you looking down at her. Your happy-go-lucky smile was replaced by something else, something more uncertain. The hand on her waist was warm; she always forgot how warm you were.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked as a waltz started up.

“Just shut up,” you said not unkindly with a nervous smile, “I have to concentrate.”

She opened her mouth to argue - you were giving her the perfect opportunity - but was quickly silenced when you started leading her around the room. And you were doing well. The look of pure concentration on your face was comical, but she was, admittedly, far more impressed with your improvement.

It was still too early for her to believe you were good at dancing; she couldn’t give you a big head. But you were leading her around the room expertly, pulling her close, spinning and dipping as the music commanded. There was once or twice you tripped over your own feet, but you recovered quickly and continued as if it had never happened.

You picked her up only once, your hands on her hips and for a moment, just a moment, she felt something settle in her stomach. Something different but good. Definitely good. She desperately hoped you couldn’t feel the slightest shiver run down her spine.

And then, over the top of your head, she saw her father. The weirdest look was on his face, it was almost a smile but not quite. His eyes were locked with hers and the cigar stuck out of the side of his mouth and he looked… proud, her mind filled in. He looked proud.

The dance finished with you pulling her flush against you, and if she focused hard enough, she could feel your heart racing in your chest. Your hand had moved from her waist to the small of her back and you were looking at her. Only at her. Didn’t you know others were watching?

Another song started up, and Wednesday half expected you to pull away - there was no way you had also learned to tango - but you stayed there. She could feel the small push on her back, holding her close. That suspiciously good feeling in her stomach returned along with a heat in her chest.

She should have felt disgusted by it. By the fact that you still hadn’t moved, and you were looking at her with a dumb, awestruck face, and everyone was still watching you. It should have been disgusting and nauseating and torturous in the worst way.

But it didn’t. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to feel disgusted by it.

“Come on,” Wednesday said as the music continued to blast throughout the ballroom.

The moment you removed your hands, she grabbed one and started pulling you through the crowd. In her peripheral, Uncle Fester and Pugsley were watching her with embarrassingly large smiles. If she wasn’t so intent on dragging you away, she would have made a side-trip to kill them.

They should be happy you were there.

You didn’t say anything to her as she took you outside into the cold air. The very tips of your feathers shook in the wind and pulled closer to your body. She felt a single squeeze to her hand while you followed dutifully behind. Not once did you question why you were in the Addams cemetery.

Maybe you were more of an Addams than she was willing to admit.

“Are you gonna kill me out here?” You asked once Wednesday let go of your hand in the mausoleum. “Because your mom said my dancing wasn’t that bad.”

Her body turned to face you but she stayed just far enough away to be out of touch. It was an internal battle with her heart and her mind, and now she was feeling the usual nausea from such emotions. Her mind was telling her not to do it, not to say what she was getting so desperate to say. What if you weren’t the same, and she was displaying her weakness only to have you throw it back like a spear to the chest?

But what if you felt the same? What if you understood and agreed? All the little glances, linking pinkies, setting things up that she would enjoy. The brushes of your hand against hers, the ceaseless teasing, the kindness you had shown to Eugene simply because she had asked it of you. Did you feel the same? Did it feel like there was a vice grip around your throat and needles continuously stabbing through your heart? Was something always trying to claw its way up her throat to say everything you were forcing down?

“Are you okay?” Your wings twitched behind you. “You look like you’re hurting.”

Just say it. Don’t be a coward and just say it.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday said as she took a single step closer to you. “I just… need to admit something.”

“You are gonna kill me,” you said seriously, but Wednesday could see the crinkle of your eyes as you forced down a smile.

An Addams is never afraid.

“I have feelings for you.” The words felt like hot lead burning down her throat. She took another step closer; now she could see the goosebumps on your neck.

“You- you do?” Your feathers fluffed up as you stumbled over the simple word.

“Yes,” Wednesday said, far softer this time.

“What- what do you- what do you feel?” You stammered again, your eyes looking everywhere but directly at her.

“I feel…” don’t show vulnerability, “you’re a little annoying.” Show a little vulnerability!

The immediate laugh that left your lips was hypnotising, almost even enough to distract her from her apparent inability to confess a single thing. The inferno in her chest was growing, but not from embarrassment. No, it was something else, something better. It grew and spread as you reached out and pulled her closer by her hips, her own fingers brushing against your hand-

-her head was thrown back as an electric shock radiated from her fingers, spreading down her veins until leaving a sharp pain in the back of her head. She would know the Nevermore dorms in her sleep, but this one was different. There were a few things on the shelf that she recognised

“But why aren’t they here?”

At the sound of a voice - it was surprisingly young - Wednesday dashed under one of the beds. Her foot knocked something around, but she didn’t look down. She was too focused on the door opening and two pairs of feet walking into the room. The larger pair belonged to a boy around Pugsley’s age who looked like he was in desperate need of a haircut. A frown adorned his face; it seemed unnatural.

Behind him was a child. One with raven black wings and a small scar through her top lip.

“All the parents showed up,” you whined. There was a familiar droop to your wings; it seemed you couldn’t outgrow everything.

“Well not ours,” the boy said. Who was he? Had you ever mentioned him before? Surely you had, how could you not?

“They promised,” you said.

“They’re not coming,” the boy said a little louder.

“But why not?” You asked.

“Because they don’t want us!” He shouted, causing you to flinch and your eyes to screw shut. “They don’t want us and they’re not coming back!”

The room fell under a suffocating silence as the boy looked at you, his face instantly transforming from frustration to regret. A single tear fell down your chubby cheek and past your lips. Your arms wrapped around yourself so tightly, Wednesday could see your knuckles straining against the skin.

“But I was good,” you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at the older boy. He sighed and stepped closer, pulling you into a hug that you clung to, a hug that seemed so personal Wednesday felt the need to look away to give you both a moment.

“I know,” he said softly into your ear.

“Wednesday!”

Her head snapped back and she became painfully aware of the way you were holding her face. There was concern written in your eyes as you looked her over frantically, desperately. Your fingers gently twitched against her jaw and neck and it was so soft it hurt.

“Are you okay?” You asked with a shakiness in your voice that she had just heard in her vision.

After what she had just seen, your kindness and gentleness made no sense. There were few details, but she knew what had happened. All of that and you weren’t angry? You weren’t furious? Didn’t you want to take it out on everybody until you felt better? But no, you were so focused on making sure she was okay and your fingers were so tragically soft even as they moved down to hold her by her shoulders.

Do it.

You were still fussing over her, guiding her to sit down on the marble slab in the mausoleum. A burning jolt shot through her veins as you moved to stand between her legs. Oh, how her hands shook as she reached up to grab the collar of your shirt. Would you reject her if she did something spontaneous?

“Wednesday, you’re not answering me,” you said frantically. She could hear the worry in your voice but was too focused on how your lips moved.

She wanted to do it. For the first time since meeting you, she genuinely wanted to do it. It was in the concern on your face and the frown on your lips. Would you still be frowning if she leaned forward? If she was so bold? She certainly didn’t feel bold anymore, not now when you were so close and so worried about her in a way that few ever had been.

“Just tell me you’re okay.” Your voice was rising, cracking with emotion that she hadn’t heard anyone display towards her before.

It was an unusual situation to be in, this not being confident in herself. Wednesday couldn’t recall a time where she hesitated to do what she wanted. But as she looked up at you and saw the way you licked your lips, she hesitated. She hesitated because this wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She had sworn off romance because she wasn’t her mother or father. It was nothing but a distraction and she had plans for her life, grand plans that no one would get in the way of.

“Dammit, Wednesday, just tell me-”

-she couldn’t take it anymore. In a single moment, she did everything she had sworn she wouldn’t. Her hands gripped your collar tighter and pulled you down until finally, finally your lips crashed ungraciously against hers. It wasn’t pretty; there was nothing romantic about it. It was rushed, sloppy, too hard, and your lips were unbearably chapped.

But by god if it wasn’t perfect. It was perfect in the way your grip tightened around her shoulders before you pulled her closer. In the way she could feel you holding your breath, almost as if you were worried that if you breathed, it would stop. The way she could feel your pulse rushing madly beneath her knuckles pressed against your neck.

She pulled back, fighting against everything in her not to smile when you tried to chase after her. Your eyes fluttered open as you looked down at her in a haze. A haze that was undoubtedly reflected in her own eyes. Looking up at you, with that dumbstruck look of yours and a hunger that she felt deep in her chest as her hands moved to rest against the back of your neck.

“Does that mean you’re okay?” You whispered, your hands sliding down to hold her by her hips.

With a roll of her eyes, she pulled you down into another kiss that you eagerly fell into. This one felt more natural, more like how one would imagine a first kiss to go. It was hungrier, but far softer, almost like you were scared to break her. And as she pulled you impossibly closer, maybe you would. She had never felt this vulnerable before, and maybe you would be the one to break her with your strong grip and soft hands.

But when one of your hands moved to cup her jaw and hold her still, she determined she was okay with breaking if it was you. If you were the one to shatter her heart and soul, that would be okay. Because now, in that exact moment, you were the only thing on her mind. Only you. You and your soft, scarred hands could break her in the gentlest way.

And she wouldn’t dare try to stop you.

—---

Gomez would admit he was a little surprised when Wednesday came down for breakfast without you. Still in her pyjamas from the night before and hair slightly disheveled, a part of him hoped his assumptions were correct. But with breakfast halfway finished and Wednesday still hadn’t said a word, he was starting to lose hope. He certainly didn’t want to lose to Grandmama.

But when you finally stumbled into the kitchen with smudged eyeliner and hazy eyes, he started to feel a bit more hope. You practically tripped into the chair beside Wednesday and reached for the cereal box. With only half-open eyes, you struggled until Wednesday rolled her eyes, grabbed it, and put it in your hands. You turned your head to offer her a sleepy smile, and that’s when Gomez saw it.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he slammed his hands on the table, startling everyone at the table; you more so than the others.

“The excessive noise is not necessary,” Wednesday said, but Gomez instead just pointed to your neck.

“I was correct,” he continued. Your eyes went wide when you finally noticed where his finger was directed as he turned to face Grandmama. “I shall now take my winnings.”

“You were supposed to wait until you got back to school,” Grandmama said directly to Wednesday, who rolled her eyes in return. The slightest blush dusted her cheeks.

Nonetheless, Grandmama dug into her pocket and threw the cash onto the table, giving Gomez his victory. You were suddenly extremely interested in the cereal you were pouring with shaky hands as he put the wad of cash into his own pocket. It was an amusing turn of events, he thought, to see Wednesday finally at a loss for words.

Mercifully, he allowed you both to finish breakfast without much more teasing. You had already been avoiding his eyes, and as much as he was wanting to continue, he was going to be nice. It seemed you were both still exhausted from the previous night - he and Morticia shared a knowing look - and he was a generous man. He would be fair and let you rest for a moment.

But once you were all finished and you had helped wash the dishes - much against everyone’s insistence - and everyone headed back to the common room, he exacted his plan. You had been here for long enough to know the workings of the house, and he had one more thing he wanted to do before allowing you to rest for the remainder of your time in the house.

Like a tiger, he waited until your back was turned before grabbing his foil and sneaking up on you. The ruffle of your feathers should have given him indication, but he swung anyway. He was stopped in his tracks as he was stopped with the dagger currently residing in your left hand.

“Ha!” You shouted back with the most giddy look on your face. “I knew it!”

Beside you, Wednesday allowed the smallest ghost of a smile before holding out a sword for you to take. Ah, Gomez thought, you had both planned as well. He felt himself let out a laugh as he pulled back and got into position, completely ready to give it all he had.

Wednesday moved to the side as you swung first, and so your dance began. Your actual swordsmanship had improved over the week, you were a far more admirable opponent. But he was more focused on your footwork. He toyed with you, drawing you this way and that, forcing you to move all around the common room. And all the while, you staved off his advances.

“Aha!” Gomez shouted as he cornered you and held the sword to your neck. But you held no fear in your eyes; if anything, he saw defiance.

“Check,” you answered with a smirk and your eyes gesturing down until his own gaze followed.

“Check indeed,” he whispered with a smile when he saw the dagger you held to his side.

He dropped the sword and pulled back, clapping you on the shoulder and offering you congratulations on the draw. Was that happiness he saw on your face as you thanked him? The feathers on your wings fluffed up when you stepped back and thanked him again before following Wednesday out of the common room.

“She is an Addams,” Morticia said once you were both out of earshot.

“Yes,” Gomez said through the haze of his thoughts. “Indeed she is.”

—---

Wednesday opened the door to her room before you could knock the third time. Your hand was still raised and you had a sleepy, stupid smile on your face. Without hesitation, she pulled you into a kiss as she dragged you into the room. Impressively, you kicked the door shut behind you without pulling away.

“Yet you can’t dance?” Wednesday asked, her lips brushing against yours.

“Dancing takes skill,” you shrugged. “I’m a natural kicker.”

“That doesn’t make you sound interesting,” she said as she continued to drag you back to the bed with her. “It’s actually quite vapid.”

“You sure know how to woo a girl, don’t you?” You teased back.

“You’re maddening,” Wednesday said with a roll of her eyes. “Why are you even here?”

“Why do you only ask after you kiss me?” You asked.

She didn’t bother giving you an answer before pulling you onto the bed with her. Thankfully you were (surprisingly) graceful enough not to fall on her, instead landing beside her and staying there. Yes, she had kissed you - more than once at this point - but she still wasn’t too sure about cuddling. That was just a little too intimate. And by some miracle, you understood and didn’t push it.

“You ready to go back?” Your voice was muffled as you shifted around to get comfortable. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for you to get comfortable with wings the size of yours. Was it a struggle every night? Could you ever truly sleep well?

“Yes,” Wednesday lied.

“Well I’m not, I think-”

You rambled on while Wednesday’s mind started wandering. She was not ready to go back to Nevermore where everyone was in her business and you were different. It hadn’t been expected, she had never thought you would have another side to you. But after this week she got to see you happy. A genuine, true happiness that she only just realised wasn’t entirely there at Nevermore.

After what she had seen, she didn’t blame you for acting different. Your parents had abandoned you, had left you in the hands of strangers without any indication of when you would go home again. Did Nevermore bring out that darker side of you? Is that why you were more hesitant, more reserved? Would the excitement you were displaying here continue, or would you fall back to old habits, an old familiar personality?

“Oh my god,” you groaned, drawing Wednesday back to the present.

“What?” She asked, but her question was answered when she heard the noises coming from across the house.

“How are you so okay with hearing your parents fuck all the time?” You asked. “I never heard my parents.”

Wednesday had to bite back the retort that no, of course you didn’t, because they had left you. She couldn’t show all her cards just yet, it wasn’t the right time. And it would hurt you, her heart told her. Yes, she supposed that was true as well, she certainly didn’t want to hurt you. Aside from her feelings, it wasn’t like you had done anything to hurt or scare her-

-wait. Yes you had.

You were still rambling, going off about who knows what. At this point, Wednesday was determined you were talking just to hear your own voice. Not that she minded, of course, it gave her the perfect chance to look around her room to find what she could use in her plot against you.

Ah. That works perfectly.

“Can you pull that lever for me?” Wednesday said, interrupting whatever your train of thought had been.

“What?” You asked, looking around behind you to find the lever in question. “Why?”

“It’s the light,” she lied effortlessly, “I forgot to grab something.”

“Oh,” you said cheerily, “yeah sure!”

She should have felt guilty when you got up with the most eager smile on your face. It should have been eating away at her from the inside out because you wanted so desperately to help. But as you approached the lever and looked at it, all she could think about was the humiliation you had put her through at the end of your date. You had made her scream, and she was going to exact her revenge.

Satisfaction. That’s what she felt when you grabbed the lever and was immediately pulled up into the water tubes that littered the mansion. You didn’t scream, but she heard a very profound “fuck!” before you disappeared. Her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer as she stood to her feet and took her time grabbing her jacket and shoes.

For such a split-second plot, it was going splendidly. Grandmama gave her a wave as she passed, and she was standing at the tube exit right when you were shot out. You literally jumped to your feet and stood there, soaked arms and wings held out away from your also-soaked body. With wide, uncertain eyes and hair sticking up in every direction possible, Wednesday couldn’t stop her smile.

“I usually like my revenge warm,” Wednesday said when you started to shiver. You looked like a drowned rat. “This works just as well.”

Your eyes slowly, impressively slowly lifted until you were locking eyes with her. Her smile slowly fell as yours in turn grew. The muscles of your whole body tensed so much she could see it underneath your shirt. A single twitch of your left wing had her furrowing her brows.

“Don’t,” she warned.

You didn’t listen.

In books and movies, everyone says the accidents happen in slow motion. You can see your entire life flash before your eyes and bear witness to every minute atom in sight. But as Wednesday watched you, she realised they were wrong. There was nothing slow or poetic about the way you shook so violently she swore your feet lifted off the ground. It was reminiscent of a dog; maybe you had learned the habit from the Furs. It would certainly explain the ridiculous noise you let out mid-shake.

The amount of water that came off of you was rather impressive, but she didn’t find it as enjoyable when she was suddenly drenched and standing with you out in the cold. You didn’t back down from her glare, instead standing taller and matching her expression.

Your feathers being extremely fluffed up now did nothing to help you.

“This isn’t over,” Wednesday said as she stepped closer until she was face-to-face with you.

Well. Face-to-chest with you.

“Bring it, Addams,” you shot back, “my momma didn’t raise no bitch.”

Your words meant nothing to her as you pulled her into a searing kiss that took over every one of her senses. Suddenly she didn’t feel so cold anymore.

[googleitlol]

So.

This might be the longest one I've posted (it’s a little longer than my Doubles chapter), and I cut a couple things for spoiler reasons, so DAMN!

This chapter might jump around a bit because of the cuts, but I hope it's still enjoyable! Dove just has the time of her life in this one, a real fluff piece 😃👍

CW: blood

Dove Masterlist:

Chrysanthemum

The coast is clear, you’re good to go.

Not a single sound echoes down the long halls of the palace, all occupants fast asleep beneath the pale moon, save for the guards. You close the door to your room, careful not to be too loud as you sneak through the palace. Looking down at the note in your hands, you follow its directions. It lists various turns to take, and you are mindful of the presence of any guards patrolling the area as you take them.

After coming back to your room for the night, you found a note from the prince on the foot of your bed. He likely wants to reconvene so you can tell him what you’ve learned thus far. Hopefully your investigations of the day will be helpful.

You peer around a corner, waiting for a pair of guards to leave the area before you can continue on your route. As you wait, something taps you over your shoulder. You quickly spin around, a familiar stone monkey standing behind you with a lazy smile.

“Woah.” He gives you a bit of a surprised look when you turn, his gaze studying you for a moment. You give him an expectant look, and it’s enough to help him find his words again. “Uh, good news, Dove. Master’s papers are now recertified!”

“Shh!” You whisper, holding your breath as you glance back to see whether or not he was heard.

Once you see that they are no longer in sight, you let out a sigh of relief. Wukong frowns, but lowers his voice nonetheless. “What does it matter if they hear us? You don’t have to be here anymore. We can fly back to the post house and meet up with the others, we can be out of this kingdom before sunrise.”

“Not yet.” You glance away, double checking the hall is clear on both ends

“What?” He laughs a little, confused. “Not yet? With how you looked at me the other day in the post house, I thought you would want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

You focus your gaze back on the monkey demon once you know you’re both in the clear. “I just need another day or two.”

Wukong scoffs a bit, crossing his arms. “You just might be married by then, these royal types put wedding arrangements together rather quickly.”

“Just a few more days, then I can leave.” You explain before turning away to continue your route.

“Why?” The sage asks from behind, sounding genuinely puzzled as you look back down for where to go next. You don’t get the chance to finish before a tail snatches the paper from your hands. “Are these… directions?”

You look back to see his almost perplexed expression. “What is this?”

“Jian Yu is expecting me, Wukong, this is important.” You do your best to explain, patience running thin rather quickly as you snatch the note back. The day had been a long one, and you don’t feel in the mood for your companion’s pushy curiosity.

You go to move before Wukong jumps in front of you, brows pulled into a deep frown. “You’re meeting the prince? At this time of night?!”

“Stop, it isn’t like that.” You roll your eyes, offended he could even come to that conclusion.

“Meeting your soon-to-be-husband in the dead of night?!” He continues to voice his unneeded concerns, shaking his head before taking your hand to lead you away. “If I knew you would actually fall for this guy, I would have opted to decline the proposal and fight our way out of this place!”

He can barely take you three steps before you pull your hand away. “Would you quit it?!” Wukong looks back at you with a huff as you speak, clearly as irritated as you feel. “He wants to know what I’ve found. I can’t leave yet because I might have found the one trying to kill him.”

Monkey scoffs with a grin, his tail coiling around his leg. “Why is he asking you to do it? Doesn’t he have guards for things like that?”

“He’s paranoid. If you’re mortal and your life is at a constant risk, you’re paranoid.” You rest your hands on your hips, giving your friend a glare. “He says he can’t trust anyone in the palace, and I don’t blame him.”

“So he gets his betrothed to do his work for him?” Wukong jeers, and you roll your eyes.

He doesn’t get it, you don’t expect him to. “I could care less about your feelings on this matter, I am seeing this through.”

“But why do you need so long?” He prods, his eyes narrow with agitation. “You said you know who his would-be killer is, just tell him and we can go.”

You shake your head. “It’s only a suspicion. Besides, even if I am right, I would like to stay and see to it that they are properly dealt with. That way, I will know Jian Yu is safe.”

You’re met with silence, Wukong’s eyes burning into yours. A song of crickets is all that fills the silence for a moment, Monkey tilts his head, frown deepening. You glare back, refusing to give him even an inch.

Then his eyes soften. He studies your face for a moment, brow still worried. “Are you okay?”

The question takes you off guard. “Fine, but I’m keeping the prince waiting. So if you will excuse me–”

“You don’t look fine.” He says, and you pause. “Look, I get it. You want to help this guy. That princess, demons in disguise, your first instinct is always to help them. And, you know, that’s a good thing. More people should be like that– I know Tripitaka wants my brothers and I to be more like that… but this is different.

“Just two days ago, you wanted nothing to do with this prince. Now, it’s like you are obsessed!” He reaches for your hand again, more gentle this time. “You look as though you’ve had no time to sleep, determined to have this task seen through.”

“Of course I am determined! I won’t just let him die.” You pull your hand back, stepping away from the sage.

Wukong clenches the hand he reached out. “I’m not saying you do that.”

“It’s what I would be doing if I leave now.” You glower. “I can save him, so that is what I will do.” Without another word, you turn on your feet and leave him where he stands. He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before you’re gone.

What does he know, anyway? Obsessed? Is that what he calls it? Yes, you want nothing more in this moment than to help Jian Yu, but anyone in your position would feel the same. How else are you meant to feel when a person asks you to save their life? How can a person turn their back at a request like that? What does Wukong know, anyway?

It doesn’t matter, what does is getting your information about your suspects to the prince. You follow the rest of the note’s directions carefully, avoiding the guards until you reach a door. As per the instructions, you knock on the frame of the door, your eyes flicking to and fro to ensure you’re neither seen nor heard.

The door slowly opens, the prince peering out to see you. “I was beginning to worry you would not come.” He smiles, looking down the hall himself to see if you were alone.

“I apologise for keeping you waiting.” You look down, tucking the paper into your sleeve now that you no longer need it. “I believe I have information on who may be the one who wants you dead.”

“Not out here, come inside. I want to make sure we are alone.” He opens the door fully, allowing you to enter what appears to be his room. With a quiet thanks, you let yourself into the space. You try your best not to overreact over how large his room is, reminding yourself there is a reason for your visit. You have no time to gawk over space in a room.

With a quick breath through your nose, you look back at the prince. “I believe there are two suspects. The first is the new palace gardener, Chun Hua–”

“It can’t be her.” He quickly dismisses the idea, moving past you to sit back on his bed.

You frown at his quick response. “You haven’t even heard my reasoning yet.”

“She has not been here long enough to be the one we’re looking for.” His reasoning makes you frown.

She was employed for weeks before the assassination attempt. “What do you mean by that?”

Jian Yu sighs, looking down to his hands that rest on his lap. “I’m sure you heard me chastising that man for giving me those flowers.” You hum a bit in acknowledgement. That was one way he could put it.

“My mother…” He pauses, eyes on his now clenched fist. “…she passed away early in the spring.”

Your frown lessens at that, his own hardening. “I am sorry to hear that.”

“She was killed in her sleep, that same flower was left at the foot of her bed by whoever took her life.” He continues, understanding finally dawning over you. When he told you this was about more than his own life…

It was really for her. “That’s why you wanted me to find whoever sent you the flowers?” You ask, the prince nodding in response.

“The arrows shot at me were laced with aconitum, the same toxin from that plant. I am certain that our killer is the same one who took my mother’s life. Chun Hua has only been employed here for the summer.” He explains, dismissing her as a suspect.

You hum a bit in thought. “Perhaps my second suspect is the one you’re looking for, then.” You begin telling him of your findings, what the gardener had informed you of and who the true culprit may be.

After discussing and coming to a consensus on who the attacker really is, you turn to leave. “Let’s reconvene in the morning. I have been neglecting my sleep and if we plan to bring this person to justice, I should be at my best.”

Before you can reach the door, the prince catches your hand. You look back at him to find the man smiling. “Thank you, for everything.” His eyes, though melancholy, are hopeful.

“I feel like for the first time in a long while, I don’t have to be afraid.” The gesture takes you aback, the optimism on his face chipping at your heart like an axe to a tree.

All you can manage is to give him a curt nod before leaving the room in a rush to get back to yours. When he looks at you like that– you can’t even bear to think about it. Why does he have to look so much like him? Why can’t you stop seeing his face?

By the time you make it back to your room, you can barely keep it together. Once inside, you lean against the door. You slowly slide down, and despite the hours you’ve spent following trails and hiking up mountains, the short run back to your room has left your knees weak and each breath laboured. You’ve seen him enough in your dreams, why must you now see him in the waking world too?! 

Why must he look like him? You can barely look him in the eyes for ten seconds before feeling your stomach twisting into knots. He tells you he feels safer now and all that reassurance does is make you wish you could crumble into nothing but ashes. Tears start to prick at your burning eyes, an unfortunate side effect to your swirls of emotion.

You didn’t want any of these feelings, but what else can you do? You can’t leave as long as he’s in danger, your job is not yet finished here. With any luck, the culprit will be apprehended and you can be on your way. You won’t have to torture yourself with this any longer. He can be saved, you can save him.

A rush of air passes through your lips, in and out as you take in a deep breath. If only that gift of yours could work on yourself, maybe you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

After taking a moment to regulate your breathing, you rise back to your feet, away from the door. Your feet move without you telling them to, almost in a daze as you stop at one side of your bed. Wukong may be right, you do feel exhausted, just a little drained. Taking a seat, you lean back on the bed, arms propping you up. As you lean back, your fingers brush against something on top of the covers, and you glance to your side with a frown. Strange, you didn’t leave anything on the bed.

The violet petals on your sheets make your frown deepen, a monkshood flower sitting atop your bed.

You don’t even have the chance to move before a hand wraps around your mouth, pulling you back while an arm wraps around your torso. Your hands fly to the hand covering your mouth, the attacker pulling you across to the other end of the bed as you kick to find any sort of grip, your shouts muffled.

The attacker stands back, pulling you off the bed and lifting you up so that you can’t reach the ground. “You never should have gotten involved, woman.” A low voice snarls before their hand removes itself from your face.

Your sharp intake of breath is cut short as you see your assailant hold up your own dagger, your bow and quiver still disposed of by the folding screen on the other side of the room. How long has this person been here? Did they wait for you?

The attacker swings down just as you quickly dig your elbow into their side. They recoil, grip loosening before you throw your head back to collide with their own. You’re able to free yourself as they reel back from the hit, cradling their head from the pain.

Facing your attacker now, you find it to be the same cloaked intruder from the day you arrived. The attacker recovers quickly, holding up your dagger and lunging for you again. You just dodge out of the way, blocking their wrist with your arm before parrying and pushing them away. You take the opportunity to kick them in their chest, pushing them to the ground and giving you a chance to run for your bow.

You turn to run, but trip as the attacker pulls at your hanfu. You fall, letting out a shout of pain as your chin collides with the hard wooden floor. There’s hardly a moment to blink before you’re grabbed by your shoulder and flipped onto your back.

The attacker hovers overtop of you, they almost plunge the dagger into your chest before you grab their wrist with both your hands. Your arms shake as they fight to push the blade down and you attempt to guide it away from your body. The attacker grunts, forcing your dagger closer and closer.

They start to overpower you, your strength slipping as the blade digs into the fabric of your clothes. The weapon sinks into your shoulder, the cool metal shooting a searing hot pain through your body. A cry of pain tears through your throat, the blade twisting into your flesh.

You let go of their wrist, screaming as they drive the dagger in further, before pulling them close enough to connect your fist to their jaw. The attacker stumbles back, falling to their side and taking the dagger with them. You’re able to push past the pain enough to sit up and shuffle back, enough to reach your bow.

Now armed, you reach for an arrow from your quiver before your assailant rises to their feet. You draw back the string, but before you can fire, a flash of ochre rushes past from your window. In the blink of an eye, Sun Wukong has the attacker pinned to the wall, his arm against their throat.

He’s scarily silent as he takes his staff from his ear to extend it, and you quickly stand. “Wukong, wait! You can’t kill them!” Whoever this is, they are no demon, and Tripitaka will never stand for his disciple to kill a human, no matter how guilty they may be.

The Monkey King snaps his attention to you, his hardened gaze softening when he does. Dropping his staff, he only turns back to your attacker to knock them out with a hit to the head. The assailant goes out cold, and you feel yourself begin to sway on your feet. Sun Wukong catches you before you can fall back into your folding screen, his eyes quickly finding the growing splotch of red over your shoulder.

You do your best to apply pressure over the wound with your hand, Wukong doing the same as he looks down in worry. “Dove, are you alright? Did they hurt you anywhere else? Is there any more blood?” He checks you over for any other injuries but you can only shake your head.

“I… I’m okay.” You pant, looking back at the unconscious attacker on the ground. With the threat neutralised, it takes you a second to catch your breath.

They really tried to kill you. If they’re trying to get you, that must mean they want you out of the way so they can get rid of the prince without interference. If that’s true, he could be in trouble this very minute. “Jian Yu, he’s in danger!”

You jump up, nearly toppling back over before steadying yourself. “Dove, wait!” Wukong gets to his feet as well, reaching to take hold of your arm but you’re already slamming the door open and running into the hall. You race through the building, tripping over your own feet but you refuse to let any slip ups slow you down.

By the time you get to his room, you don’t bother with knocking. The door shoots open and you run in, exhaling heavily until that final breath catches in your throat. The prince is limp on the floor on his side, at the foot of his bed. A figure stands over him, a small blade in hand dripping with his blood.

“No!” Your voice shreds as you run. The crack of wood echoes through the room as you slam your bow over the head of the figure just as they turn to face you. The hit carries enough force to snap your bow in two and send them to the floor, knocking them out.

Dropping what’s left of your bow, you kneel down to turn the prince on his back. He winces as you move him onto his back and pull him into your arms. “No, no no no no…” His eyes are still open, wide and terrified. Crimson seeps into his clothing from his abdomen, he’s convulsing and his breathing is erratic.

You were supposed to keep him safe, why couldn’t you keep him safe?! “No, no, please! Not again– not again! Stay with me!” His hands feel clammy as they grip onto your arm.

“No, no!” He goes to speak, but is unable to. You try to heal the wound, but you can hardly gather yourself to do so, you feel like the walls of the room are closing in. Even putting pressure on the wound feels futile, you can see the light in eyes leaving again as you try. “Listen to my voice, you can’t go! Jie! I won’t lose you again! Jie, please!”

Something makes you shake, you only now notice the hands on your shoulders. “Dove!” You look back to see Sun Wukong over your shoulder. Was he here this whole time? “The blade reeks of that flower.” He looks back to where the figure dropped their weapon and your heart sinks even lower. If that’s true, stopping the bleeding will do nothing. He’s going to die.

“Help him!” You plead, your hold of the boy tightening. “Please, Wukong, I can’t let him die! I can’t just sit here and watch him die again!”

The demon frowns. “I can’t do anything, I can’t cure the poison.” It’s happening again. You’ll have killed him twice. The same boy, twice–

“Dove, Dove! Snap out of it!” You’re shaken again, the Monkey King now in front of you. He’s blurry, your vision obscured by the tears now stinging your eyes. “I can’t help him, but you can. You can heal him.”

“I can’t!” You can hardly breathe, you can’t do anything to help him.

Wukong’s hold on your shoulders tightens. “Use your gift–”

“I’m trying!” Your voice cracks, the demon flinching back as you cradle the boy in your arms. “It’s not working! I can’t do it, I can’t save him! Jie’s dying and I can’t do anything!”

“Yes, you can!” He moves his hand to cup your face. He guides you to face him as he wipes the tears streaming down your face. “Look at me, Dove. You need to focus, breathe.” He speaks calmly, his voice low and grounding. “You’ve cured my blindness, an infected flesh wound is nothing in comparison! I know you can do it. Just breathe.”

His tail curls around your arm, squeezing in reassurance. He’s right, you’re the only one that can save him now. You can’t watch him die again, you won’t– He won’t die. You look back at Sun Wukong, and he gives you a reassuring nod. Your breathing begins to slow, and you look back down to Jian Yu.

Shutting your eyes tight, you do your best to regulate your breathing and focus on his injury. The agonising throbbing in your shoulder is a distraction, but one you bear as you begin to work. The wound is deep, the poison already coursing through his body. You focus on the poison, the blood pooling out from his abdomen,  his life that hangs on a thread.

In that moment, your already dwindling strength begins to slip as you work to heal him. You don’t stop, pushing to close the wound. You keep your breathing steady, your mind focused on your task as your energy slips away. Wukong’s hand leaves your face, and you feel arms catch you before you can even realise you fell over.

You open your eyes, now with barely enough energy to keep them open. It’s worth it when you see the prince lunge forward, sitting up in a panic before falling back.

Familiar arms keep you close, holding you to a chest that, under different circumstances, would make you chuckle over its faint scent of peaches. All you can manage is a soft grunt, the fight to stay awake becoming too much. Anything Wukong says to you falls on deaf ears, the struggle to stay conscious while ignoring the pain in your shoulder becomes too much.

At least he’s safe.

~~~~

Everything feels sore, your limbs heavy as your eyes start to open. Light pours into your room from the window as you lie in bed, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust. Your head thunders in this throbbing pain and when you reach up to feel it, you wince. Sitting up, you see that your shoulder is heavily wrapped, still aching from your dagger during that fight.

“Careful.” You turn to see Wukong at your side, taking you by your good shoulder and guiding you back to lie down.

Your brows furrow. “…Monkey?”

“How do you feel?” He asks, taking hold of your hand.

You groan a bit, massaging your temple with your free hand. “My head feels like it’s been split down the middle.”

Instead of any verbal response, your friend whacks you over the head with his tail. You grunt while he scoffs. “That must be what happens when you use all your energy after depriving yourself from sleep.”

“I was also stabbed. Trying to heal someone while bleeding out can be a little painful.” You deadpan, but only for a moment before realisation hits you. “The prince, is he–”

“Better than you, that is for certain.” He responds curtly, annoyance seeping through his words before smirking. “You saved his life.” Hearing that, you let go of a breath you had no idea you were holding.

As relief courses through you, Wukong continues. “All your screaming woke up half the palace. With you practically dead in my arms and that prince lying in his own blood, I had to convince the guards I wasn’t responsible for killing you both.” Oh, that would look bad.

He continues to inform you of the fate of the culprits. “They confessed yesterday to the other attempts as well as killing the queen. I’m not too interested in the politics of it all, but your beloved prince is safe.”

You don’t even process the sourness in his tone before jolting up to sit. “Wait, yesterday?!”

“Careful!” Wukong hisses, leaning over to ensure your shoulder is still alright. Once he’s done fussing, he lets out a tired huff. “And, yes, yesterday. You’ve been unconscious for the last… hmm, 37 hours? That’s what I counted anyway.” It’s been over a day?!

“Master and your sweet little prince have been in a few times to check on you and keep me up to date with what has been going on.” He explains, making you think on his words for a moment. Counting the hours, having people catch him up– has Sun Wukong been with you this whole time you’ve slept?

Huh. “So… he’s safe?” You want to ask him how long he’s been sitting with you, but you decide against it.

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes, and you shut your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as the stress that’s been weighing on you finally lifts. He’s really safe.

When you open your eyes, you lean over to wrap Wukong in a tight embrace. “Thank you.” He stiffens at your touch, frozen for a moment before chuckling.

“Heh, you’re the one who saved your betrothed.” He mumbles, and you feel an arm slowly wrap around your back.

“I wouldn’t have been able to without you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t with me.” You give the monkey demon one last squeeze before sitting back. You still hold him by his shoulders, offering a smile to show your gratitude.

You’re met with silence, your friend fixing you with a look you can’t quite read. His eyes look almost a little stunned, wide.

He eventually cracks a smile, but before he can say anything, a knock at your door interrupts you. One of the palace servants enter, it’s one of the women who have been taking care of you since you’ve been here. Her face lights up when she sees the two of you. “You’ve awoken! I will have the physician come to see you right away.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” You wave, but she’s already gone before you finish your sentence. After she leaves, you’re given another flick from Wukong’s tail. “Hey!”

“Shh, you do need to be checked on.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “To re-wrap your shoulder, or something… I don’t know, I’m not any sort of physician.” His gaze falls to the ground as he rambles, and you can’t help the smile that gives itself a place on your face.

You’ve seen it before, when he’s almost unsure of his words, but it’s not often when he acts like this. It’s endearing, though. He catches you staring when he looks back, and clears his throat. “I can leave you to rest, if you want.”

He stands to leave, but you catch his hand. “No, stay. I think I’ve slept long enough.” He looks back at you, traces of a small smile forming before he nods.

“Alright, then.” He shakes his head, almost in amusement, before returning to his spot by your side. “I could tell you what I’ve been up to with Master and my brothers.”

“Have the three of you managed to give Tripitaka a heart attack in my absence?” You grin, making the demon chuckle.

“Not yet, but we’ve gotten close.” He smirks, making you roll your eyes playfully. As he begins to fill you in on the hijinks that have ensued since you’ve been in the palace, you lie back and listen to your friend.

~~~~

After the physician leaves, a servant follows to take you to the gardens. Even with Sun Wukong’s reassurance of his well being, it’s still a welcome sight to see the prince on his feet again. He stands on the same bridge where all this madness started, a warm smile spreading to his face as he sees you approach.

He greets you as you join him on the bridge, and you do the same. “How are you feeling, Jian Yu?”

“Wonderful, thanks to you.” He nods. “Your monkey companion explained your powers to me, it seems you have saved my life twice now.”

You offer him a polite smile before turning to look out over the pond. “I heard the guilty party has confessed.”

The prince sighs. “Yes. At last, I can rest knowing my mother’s killer is going to pay for their actions.” You look back to him, his expression solemn at the mention of his mother.

Silence encompasses the space around you, save for the buzzing of insects and rustle of leaves. The prince seems… you’re not sure what to call it exactly. When you spoke that night before going back to your room, there was a fire in his words. With the criminal now locked away, that flame is barely there. Not put out, but small. There was such determination in his voice, but now he seems almost too quiet.

You take a moment to study his features. “Can you rest?”

It takes him a moment to answer. “…I hope I will be able to. I am unsure of what I feel now.” He frowns, stepping forward to lean on the railing of the bridge. “So many nights, I have spent tossing and turning in bed. I thought I was restless because of the thoughts about that monster still roaming free… but last night, I found no comfort.”

He looks down to the water, his fist clenching as his confused reflection looks back. “Is something wrong with me?”

You take a moment of thought before answering, your gaze on his back before stepping up to join him by the railing. “Perhaps your restlessness does not come from your anxieties. Maybe you just… miss her. That’s normal, to miss someone, to wish you could see them one last time.” You look down at his reflection in the pond, his eyes turning back to look at you.

“You understand that feeling, don’t you?” You feel yourself stiffen at the question, and your head swivels to look up at him. The prince quickly takes a step back, sensing your discomfort. “I was, um, conscious enough to still hear you for a bit. When I was bleeding out.”

Oh, he heard you. Your eyes fall back to the water as he continues. “You called me Jie. He was someone you were close to, wasn’t he?”

You stare back at your own reflection, and you notice the bags under your eyes. “…We were children. Demons attacked our village, we were separated from our families and he was trying to get us to safety.” You shake your head, shutting your eyes doesn’t stop you from seeing that night.

“He had given me a gift, I left it in my home and I wanted to retrieve it before we got somewhere safe. Everything was on fire… he wanted to leave but eventually, he followed me into the house.” Water begins to sting at your eyes, and you quickly wipe your tears before they have the chance to fall. “I got what I wanted, but we tried to leave and then… then I watched a blade run through his chest. His eyes–” You choke on your words, and the prince steps closer, holding you by your shoulders as you stifle a cry.

You look up at him, a sad smile on your face as you take in his worried features. Every expression he makes, it only reminds you of him. “You have his eyes. If he– If Jie had the chance to grow up, mature… I imagine he would have looked like you.” You look back down to the water, embarrassed to be saying any of this out loud. “I miss him. I miss him so much. Sometimes, I dream of that night, and I try to change things. It always ends the same.”

“…Can I tell you something?” Jian Yu whispers, and you look up to see him glance away. “I had another reason. For asking for your help, that is.”

You frown, now confused. “It seemed inappropriate at the time to mention it, but… when I first saw you the day you saved me, I– heh, I had the strangest feeling of nostalgia.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck almost awkwardly.  “It was like I was seeing someone I used to know, but I couldn’t quite recall.”

He looks back to you, but you’re not sure what to think of his words. The confession is almost too much for you to digest, but the longer you think it through, you find yourself smiling. “If my Da Jie were to reincarnate, I would not be surprised to find him as a prince in his new life.” You can’t help the sniffle that escapes, and the prince smiles.

“Is that who you think I am?” He questions, and you let out a tired huff.

“I’m not sure. Whether or not you are… would it be inappropriate of me to ask for a hug?” You ask.

“I think you need it.” Jian Yu opens his arms, and the two of you embrace. You hold him closely, no longer bothering to stop the tears as they fall.

The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for some time, and when you finally step back, you both hold onto one another’s arms. The prince gives you a kind smile. “When I was told you had awoken, I sent for your friends. They should be arriving soon.”

“Then I guess this is goodbye.” You return the smile, letting go of the man as he does the same.

“I suppose it is.” He nods, seemingly content before his eyes widen and his brows shoot up. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Follow me.”

Taking your hand, Jian Yu leads you off the bridge. He guides you back to the tree you first spotted him from, though now something tall lies against the trunk. It’s wrapped in cloth with a white chrysanthemum lying next to it. He takes the flower, handing it to you first. “Chrysanthemums were one of my mother’s favourite flowers. After I heard you calling for your friend the other night… I think she would find it appropriate that you have one.”

“Thank you.” You take the flower, twirling the stem as you look down at its delicate petals before Jian Yu hands you the second item, holding it in both hands..

You take the gift, unwrapping it before looking back to the prince in surprise. “I also couldn’t send an archer on her way without a bow.” It’s new, not even stringed yet. On the back of it, your name is inscribed.

“Yu… Thank you.” When you look back at him, you see your friend smiling back at you. 

“And thank you.” This time, it isn’t so hard to look him in the eyes.

Once you say your goodbyes, you meet the others back at the gates of the palace. With everyone accounted for, you leave the kingdom and resume the journey westward.

After catching up with everyone, you hang at the back of the group. It doesn’t take long for Wukong to fall back to your side, glancing over at your bow you hold in one hand while keeping the chrysanthemum between your fingers of your other hand.

He hums a bit, his lips stretched into a thin line while inspecting your new bow. “Your friend got you a cool new toy, huh?”

You hold the bow up with a soft smile. “It might take me some time to get used to it, but it’s a brilliant bow.” He lets out a bit of a scoff at your answer, and you look back at him with an amused brow raised.

“Well, hey, if you ever run out of arrows, just let Ol’ Monkey know.” He points back at himself, your grin growing as you begin to see hints of… is that jealousy? Is this why he was acting so upset that night when he caught you going to the prince? What does he have to be jealous of, it isn’t as though you would consider abandoning the pilgrimage. You are a buddhist monk, after all.

The sage plucks out a bit of hair from his arm. “All I have to do is take a few hairs and…” He turns them into arrows, all a perfect length for your new bow.

You accept the arrows, your grin showing no signs of fading as you slide them into your quiver. It does, however, morph into the thankful look you give your friend. “Thank you, and Wukong? I want to apologise for how I spoke to you earlier.”

“I was stressed and overtired, and maybe a little obsessed– but that’s no excuse. I know you were only trying to look out for me, and I appreciate that.” You look back to your friends ahead of you, this warm feeling filling your chest. You’ve missed being in their presence, it was good that Wukong was able to check in on you every now and then in the palace. He kept you afloat in the stress that threatened to drown you.

He takes the chrysanthemum from your hand. “It’s alright, it is my fault for putting you into that position in the first place. I’m just glad you’re here with us now.” He tucks the flower behind your ear as he speaks. “I know how much this entire ordeal has been weighing on you. I sort of, uh… maybe eavesdropped on you and the prince before you left.”

You raise a brow at his confession, though you aren’t too surprised, knowing who he is. “I’m sorry about your friend.” He offers his condolences, and you look back down at the path you’re on.

“If it makes you feel better, you would have had to leave him anyway for your stay in the Jade Palace, right?” He attempts to comfort you, but the deadpan stare you give him is enough for him to backtrack. “I- I mean, uh… no matter what could have happened, what did happen, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know you really were listening to all those times where he rambled about his little plant facts.”

His words make you hum in acknowledgement, and after a moment you smile. “Yes, I can imagine how happy he’d be about that. He’d be at ease to know I don’t go around picking poisonous flowers anymore.” You laugh, looking ahead to your group.

Yeah, he’d be happy to see where you are now.

[maream2636]

2024.14.9

I'm already in the middle of the day but I wanted to share my schedule with you and also maybe you'll be interested in the things I follow

Exercising (I've made a schedule to measure my progress instead of relying on motivation and a scale and the most important thing is that it's reasonable and doable)

.Searching for a program or plan to improve my English (I really need that)

Walking 1000 steps (it's the most enjoyable thing in my day)

Watching videos about the law of attraction (I need to know it if I want to achieve faster results)

Watching my series (Love next to you and DNA lover and another series I forgot the name of and if I don't find any new episodes I will message one of my friends because the social aspect is almost abandoned)

Yesterday I watched an video about there are people who put in a lot of effort but their reality doesn't change and the reason is that the effort is scattered and not measurable and does not serve the change you want so before you start anything ask yourself

Why do I want to change it?

How do I measure it?

And what are the ways that will help me change it?

When you come across a paid course or educational video, ask yourself if it will serve your goal or is it a waste of your time that you can do later?

Know what you want to change! The most important thing is to believe that you can change it. Get out of the victim mentality and the image of a failure in your head because you are not like that and do it for yourself.

Let me tell you the purpose of the goal is more important than the goal itself.

Do you want to become a doctor for money or to help others?

Do you want to become a businessman for money? Or to improve something in a country and provide a service?

Do you want to lose weight so that people say you are beautiful? Or because you care about your health and fitness?

Someone might say I have the right to want money! Yes, this is true, you have the right, but do you think that the second option from all the examples I mentioned does not bring money?

The difference is that a Purpose paves the way for the goal , and it is beneficial to others. Why are there those who work hard but do not succeed? Because they only want to take, while a successful person takes and gives, whether it is a financial contribution or a word that changes a person's life or they builds a house for their parents, regardless of whether he/she is a bad or good person thay are gives!(I know some will say that there are corrupt successful people).

I wanted to share what I learned maybe it will light someone his /her light bulb and if you don't believe me have you good day.

[slytherinshua]

SWORN TO EACH OTHER

genre. fluff. suggestive. takes place after s2 finale but there are minimal spoilers (a little referencing to what uk & yeong do after the finale tho) ++ uk & yeong cameo <3. warnings. making out (like a lot). and yul mysteriously loses one of his robes. a lot of marriage talk and how yul and reader are not married (yet). not proofread. pairing. yul x fem!reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. i swear i didn't mean to write another yul fic and esp not another fic with a makeout scene WHOOPS! but the hanbok in aos always got me like so focused like.......... also yes i did research the exact set of hanbok yul was wearing in the finale episode cause i am dedicated to my details!!

Your lover, Seo Yul, never seemed to stop surprising you. Whether it was a new spell, a random piece of knowledge, or something he remembered about you that even you had forgotten about yourself; his ability to care and give far surpassed any other man. Yul was always willing to take a risk— to break the rules just slightly when it came to you. It was the effect you had on him, making his heart ache whenever you were away and his brain thoughtless whenever you were involved. You drove him crazy and he loved every second of it.

Maybe that was how he didn’t protest at all when a simple peck on the lips that was supposed to be discreet turned into a slightly longer kiss. He didn’t pull away when you threaded your hands in his hair to bring him closer to you, nor did he budge when you slipped your tongue past his lips, deepening the kiss to something neither of you had ever dared to try before. You weren’t even engaged yet (though you both knew that you would get married as soon as the opportunity arose). 

You were situated in an empty room in Jeongjingak, both aware that you Uk and Yeong were supposed to arrive at any time, not knowing when their boat might arrive back in Songrim. The room was a bit chilly as the weather was getting cooler, but Yul’s lips burned through any chill that could touch your body. He had you pressed up against a bookshelf, the same spell books that he had studied in his youth used as a rest against your back as he impatiently kissed you, exhausting his breath and any sensible thoughts left in his head. The only thing on his mind was you and, more precisely, your lips. 

How soft they were, how they moulded so perfectly against his. How did you do it? What expensive balm or ointment did you apply to get him so thoroughly addicted to the taste? If there was a way for him to be able to kiss you like this whenever, he would do it in an instant. 

He supposed that the most obvious answer would be to marry you first. And he had half a mind to propose to you right now and find a ring maker the same afternoon without sending word back to Seoho Fortress. He needn’t bother with his father’s approval when he already knew that nothing would sway his mind when it came to you. You were the only woman he would ever consider marrying, and you knew it too by the way he was kissing you. Yul would never give any other woman a chance to get this close to him, not even if she was the prettiest lady in all of Daeho.

The entire time that you had been lost in the kiss— familiarising yourself with another one of life’s pleasures that you had the enjoyment of experiencing for the first time with the first and last man you would give your heart to— you had been feeling the fabric of Yul’s hanbok. It was a light seafoam green with a soft lavender collar on the outer garment. With your wandering hands, and the style of the set (forgoing any ties for the collar or waist), the fabric easily started to slide off of his shoulders. 

Yul could feel what you were doing and the fact that he was about to lose a layer of clothing. You were so sure that he was going to finally tell you to stop when he pulled away from your lips at long last. But, to your surprise, he didn’t. He made eye contact, his eyes shiny with a hint of mischief hidden in them.

“Do you need help, my love?” He asked softly. You were shocked that he seemed so composed, and not even a little bit out of breath, unlike you. You gathered that it had something to do with his breathing technique. 

You nodded, a bit dazed, but still eager to be any closer to Yul as you could. Admittedly, you had some idea of what he was hiding under the elegant sets of hanbok. You hadn’t exactly been slick when hugging him. But you had never actually seen his chest, and just the thought of it had your face heating up and butterflies swarming in your stomach. 

The outer garment slipped off of Yul in seconds, and he tossed it aside on one of the chairs before grasping your waist to pull you closer again. He simply needed your lips on his again as quickly as possible. He had never felt this impatient in his life.

With your lips back on his and his skin just that little bit closer to your fingertips, you were both more than content. All thoughts flew out the window, much like before, until the sudden sound of footsteps made you jerk away from your lover. Yul didn’t register the reason for your unexpected action until he finally saw Uk’s familiar head of short black hair in the doorway. 

Right. Jeongjingak was a public space, and now that Uk and Yeong were back from their months of hunting down Jinyowon relics, they were overdue for a reunion. Yul had been excited to see his friend originally, but now he felt a twinge of disappointment, realising that Uk was the only thing keeping him from tasting your lips again for the next few hours.

“You’re back!” Yul heard you say as you gave a sweet smile to Uk, and his wife, Yeong, who was right behind him. 

“Yes, it was quite the adventure, wasn’t it?” Uk grinned, turning to his wife for her consensus. She smiled at first, but as she turned back to you and Yul, her gaze twisted to one of confusion and then astonishment. 

“Are you two lovers?” She asked quickly, causing your stomach to drop and Yul to turn his head, stunned by her suggestion. No one in Daeho knew you as anyone more than Yul’s close friend, and most of his rumoured lovers had been women of… more prestigious lineage. 

Uk narrowed his eyes at his best friend, taking in his rumpled hair, flushed face, and finally, his missing outer robe. His head shot back to his wife’s, a knowing look shared between the two before Uk let a sly smile grace his face.

“Yul, you never cease to surprise me. Here? In Jeongjingak? I didn’t know it was such a popular spot.” His smile grew as Yul’s face reddened, practically drowning in embarrassment from being caught in such a scandalous act. That too, with someone he wasn’t even engaged to yet. No one had any suspicion of you two before, and now he was sure that the news would spread rapidly to every corner of the country. And eventually Seoho Fortress too.

“I always thought their energy matched.” Yeong spoke up again, “Yul’s was so calm and yet powerful. No wonder Y/n’s daring personality was just enough to kindle its full potential. They will be a great match.” She gazed at you proudly, giving you a silent nod of approval at your anxious look.

In the time that the few words had been exchanged amongst the older couple, Yul had managed to slip his garment back on, hoping he was subtle enough with it. He was entirely flustered still. Everything from the intensity of the kiss to being caught so suddenly was enough to make his brain short circuit. His image as the cool-headed eldest son of the Seo family was crumbling beneath him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it now that Uk had caught him. 

“Yes… We are… engaged.” Yul stuttered, choosing the last word suddenly as a final attempt to make the situation look even slightly better. Your eyes widened in shock when you heard it, even wondering suddenly if you had forgotten when Yul had ever asked you to be his officially. He had never uttered a word of it to you— the last that you knew was that he would have to send a very carefully worded letter to his father and wait anxiously for approval.

Uk nodded approvingly, “I always wondered when you would. You are the last to do it, you know.” He teased, but was quickly shut down with a slap from his wife.

“Yul is doing far better than you! You proposed to nearly 20 other girls before getting married. And you are younger than him!” Yeong didn’t hold back, and you smiled at the sight. They had been through so much, you were glad that they were finally allowed to be happy together; experiencing a fulfilling marriage after years of hardships. 

You looked forward to the day that you would be able to seen with Yul like that. The day people would always expect to see you two side by side, when they would ask you about the other and how you were doing together, because you would forever be united from that moment, sworn to each other until death dared to tear you apart. You had never longed for something as much in your life, nor had you ever felt so deeply in love as you did with the man who stood next to you. Though Yul hadn’t yet asked you, you were already his, and there was nothing that could possibly change that fact.

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