#which is absurd . and there’s nothing i can do about it and i never wanna do roommates again

[bunmellos]

when u move back to ur parents place and forget how to be a functioning human

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he’s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[sixosix]

INFATUATED | AETHER

i. summary mutual pining but aether is a tease and you're an idiot

ii. tags 1.5k words, aether helplessly in love, reader being dumb and in denial, bff!yoimiya may be ooc and may embarrass you, set in inazuma, fluff & flirting

Aether’s always smiling whenever you see him.

At first, you thought it was because he’s just a happy little guy, always wearing a grin as bright as his hair. Like the sun, and you’re but a flower soaking in his light. But then you hear how people talk about him—

“He’s quite terrifying, isn’t he? Sometimes I get too scared to ask for help…”

��They weren't joking about what they said regarding the Traveler. He looks young and yet has the eyes of a seasoned warrior.”

“Scary. And a bit strange. His eyes are so… blank. It’s like he’s drifting out, and it’s why he has that pixie around to do all the talking.”

—and now, you’re not so sure. The Aether you’ve met is nowhere near the Traveler they keep raving about. Are they dealing with a doppelgänger?

Yoimiya mulls over your words with a thoughtful hum. She loudly sips on her drink. “Hmm, have you ever considered it might be because he’s just happy every time you’re there?”

You scoff, nestling into your chair with crossed arms—to protect yourself from Yoimiya’s wild imagination, no doubt. “That’d be absolutely presumptuous of me to even think about.” Aether? Happy to see you? Absurd.

She tilts her head as if she pities you. “I’m blessed to not have turned out this oblivious.”

“Hey!”

“Listen to me.” She sets her glass down; it rattles the table. The owner casts you both a stern look. “He’s really just infatuated with you. How hard is it to see that?”

Very hard. Yoimiya is reaching. This is one of the truths she’s trying to pursue—except there is no truth here, just plain fantasy. “It doesn’t make sense,” you insist, growing frustrated. “He’s the Traveler, I’m no one important.”

She hums. “I’ll admit no one in Teyvat can compare to the Traveler, but no one else seems to make him happier than you do. Which is why I’m saying that explains why he’s smiling whenever you—”

“Bold assumptions you’re making,” you interrupt quickly.

“Trust me! He liiiiikes you in that way.”

“Why? How do you know that?”

“‘cause,” Yoimiya grins, her eyes sparkling. She’s as excited as she usually is talking about fireworks. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I can ask him, if you wanna be sure about it.”

“Please don’t ask him anything weird,” you plead. “He’s met so many people, Yoimiya. Why me? What do I have to offer to the holder of the dragon-defeating, god-slaying, renowned fatui-slaughtering reputation? Nothing!”

“Does he have to be with someone who’s done all of that?” she asks, and your thoughts come to a halt. Does it? No, certainly not—unless that’s what he wants. And that might be what he wants!

“Well,” you clear your throat. “Perhaps, if that’s what makes him happy.” At Yoimiya’s quirked brow, you slouch in defeat, cheeks heating up at even thinking about what Aether’s type is. “You’re enjoying this,” you murmur at the sight of Yoimiya’s conspiratorial grin.

“I’m not, I’ve just never seen you act this shy and cute before! So this is what you’re like when you have a crush?” Over Yoimiya’s shoulder, you spot a familiar pixie and a mop of golden hair from afar, walking over.

Your eyes widen, “I am not acting shy and cute—”

“What’s this? Y/N has a crush!?” Paimon’s shrieky voice is unmistakable. It’s hard to mistake her even if you tried. They’re still a few feet away, but Yoimiya’s voice can be very loud.

“I don’t,” you want to snark, however meeting Aether’s eyes has your voice going quiet. Maybe Yoimiya’s right: you are acting very shy. “Hi, Aether, Paimon.”

“Ooh,” Paimon giggles, kicking her feet. “What were you two talking about, huh? Paimon heard Yoimiya talking about a crush.” Paimon notices your wide-eyed panic. “Oh, Paimon can kick Aether out!”

Exasperated, Aether casts Paimon a look. “Who’s gonna pay for your order?”

Paimon deflates. “W-Well, Paimon can ask Yoimiya—”

“No can do; I spent all Mora on me already.”

“—Then, Paimon will—”

You arch an eyebrow. “I don’t think I can afford your usual orders. Don’t look at me. I’m a starving artist already.”

She huffs. “Fine! Paimon was trying to protect your secret but she guesses that no one’s appreciating it anyway!” Paimon, the only one who’s terrible at keeping secrets, says. She turns to her companion, hands clasped together. “Aether…”

“Alright, alright,” Aether sighs, pulling out his wallet. The poor thing.

You and Yoimiya share a look as Aether orders food for him and Paimon. You weren’t anticipating that the Traveler—the subject of your predicament—would end up here, out of all the corners and food stalls in Inazuma. Then again, that’s his thing: he’s everywhere, all at once, including the nook and cranny of your heart.

Aether turns to you, a smile blossoming across his face, which is nice, actually, despite the flutter of your heart that is starting to feel like horror. His side profile was driving you crazy, anyway. “Should we leave you two to talk about crushes?”

Just one word directed at you is enough to have you fidgeting uselessly in your seat. And this doesn’t go unacknowledged by Yoimiya, who springs up to save the day. “Don’t worry about it, Traveler! We were just talking about this—this novel that we started reading the other day.”

“Really?” Aether doesn’t sound like he believes it one bit. “Well, Paimon and I have been looking for reading material anyway. Would you mind if we borrowed it?” Said pixie is too busy stuffing her face with Dry-Braised Salted Fish to care about reading materials.

You turn to Yoimiya with a forced smile, then back to Aether, who seems so visibly amused by how you’re acting. You must look like a mess. You feel like it. “Well, I haven’t really finished it…but—but we can tell you about it!”

“Yeah, exactly!” Yoimiya looks like she’s having the time of her life. “Y/N has a big crush on the main character, which is why we were talking about him.”

Aether hums, chewing, “What’s he like?”

Yoimiya narrows her eyes, grinning as she tilts her head. “Why do you want to know?”

Aether levels her with a flat look. It’s a bit strange with you in the middle of them. “Because I want to read the story.”

“We never hear you talk about anything romantic, Y/N!” Paimon says, bits of fish spewing out while she talks. Aether reprimands her. “Whenever Paimon sees you, you’re always working!”

Is that how everyone sees you? “Are you saying you thought I was too boring to experience love?”

Paimon decides to tune out the conversation once again, wolfing down her next plate of food.

Aether’s still looking at you, a smile on his face. No, perhaps a slight smirk would be more accurate. You can feel yourself melting. Perhaps those people were right when they called Aether ‘terrifying’—the swarm of butterflies his gaze is leaving you is downright frightening.

He tilts his head, waiting.

You stammer, “W-Well, the main character’s nothing special. It’s like those things where they make the hero really likable, really…”

Yoimiya butts in, “You just have a thing for guys who have defeated dragons and faced gods head-on. Nothing special.”

“Yoimiya!”

Aether throws his head back laughing.

Yoimiya settles in her seat, looking mildly surprised. “I’ve never seen you this expressive, Traveler.”

You throw Yoimiya a warning look. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve brushed that off, but Yoimiya is clearly hinting at what started your crisis in the first place.

Paimon chugs her water like a madman dying of thirst. “He’s always like that whenever we’re around Y/N. Paimon already told him to stop bullying Y/N!”

Right. Bullying. If only the shared glances and longing stares were bullying. If only Aether lingering in your thoughts was because he’s bullying you, and not because you’re developing a massive crush on him. That would’ve been easier to explain and believe.

“Bullying?” Aether echoes in confusion.

“Flirting might be the more appropriate word for it, Paimon,” Yoimiya corrects with a gleeful grin. “So romantic. Reserving your lovesick and longing smiles to Y/N only,” she sings. “No wonder why you’ve been so happy recently.”

“Yoimiya,” you seethe, though it’s mostly desperate, humiliated. It seems that her name is your only vocabulary this evening.

Aether laughs, his eyes crinkling as he shares your gaze. And if you let yourself believe Yoimiya’s words, you might even call it fond. “You can’t blame me if I can’t help it. Surely that novel taught you what it’s like to have a crush on someone, right, Y/N?”

A/N i love aether so much im sobbing hope u liked reading!!1 bc i cried while writing this!!!! also thank u earthtooz for proofreading i love u big sibling.

[wolvesroampastelgalaxies]

Edit: All chapters up on tmblr & ao3 :p

Okay, so I got alot of hits on my last FoP:ANW ficlet. Which had me re-reading it frequently. So instead of healing, I desperately wanted to fix this situation. I think I am genuinely affected that Timmy isn’t the MC anymore.

My child hood = 💀

Anyway, I made a continuation kinda. I’m much better at introspection than writing out actions (I think). So if this piece is not of the same quality as the last. Lemme know, I really wanna do this concept justice. :p

On a Wing and A Wish 🪽

 I wish Timmy Turner got back all the memories of his fairies and could be apart of his family forever.

    “What is this?” Dev asks, “Whose Timmy Turner?”

  Peri harshly shushes him, hovering in close while darting his eyes around Dev’s room.

    Begrudgingly, the kid whispers, “What’s the deal? No one is here. What. Is. This?”

  This - was a note looped with periwinkle ink on what was balled up paper. Peri couldn’t believe what he was doing. Sneaking behind his parents’, and worse, the Fairy Council’s back, asking his own god-kid for a wish. He never thought to go through with it, even if he did frequently imagine the outcome. But it was the one thing he’d wanted since his brother left.

  No. Not left. He forgot. They made him forget. He never left us.

  Never left me.

  He sighs, resuming the usual distance. Dev can finally breathe in air that’s not Peri’s cologne and takes in his god-parent’s appearance. The fairy did not look good. Usually quaffed hair was flat and tussled, like he forgot to shower then tossed and turned all night. Which, ew, he probably hadn’t showered or poofed himself clean or whatever fairies do based on the pit stains. Sweat was also causing clammy hands that were attempting to wring themselves dry. His usual calming, lavender eyes were bloodshot from what he could tell. Well, when they weren’t searching for a haunted house jump scare.

    Dev waves his arms, “Hello? Earth to Peri!”

  The beat of wings is audible as Peri jumps a foot higher in the air.

    “Are you broken? Can fairies malfunction?” Dev gets a dimmadome idea, “Do I get a new one if you do?”

  This absurd question has Peri descending from the (literal) high level of anxiety to a level of annoyance. That level being eye to eye with his god-kid, where purple and blue begin a standoff. If there was a movie in the pinpricks of their eyes, it would reflect a tense western gun fight. Peri would have a wand at his holster and Dev would be there, arms crossed and smug as can be. His mouth loaded with the bullet 'I wish…' and Peri would be dead on the dusty road.

  A wing and a prayer is the saying. He had wings, he just needed the prayer.

  Or a wish.

  Peri surrenders, realizing picking a fight will not work in his favor.

    “Fairies can’t grant their own wishes.”

     The ginger scoffs, “That’s it?” He thought his fairy was dense, but he didn’t realize Peri was actually challenged. “Just, have another fairy grant your wish.”

  Rather than meeting with some Peri-fonted, copy-paste of Da Rules, Dev saw as his god-parent open and close his mouth. Pale lips pressing in a thin line. His small body seemed to curl in on itself, shielding not from Dev, but the irony of what he had said.

     Without looking at him, Peri said, “They can’t. It’s not how it works. Only a god-kid can make wishes.”

  The hitch and crack at the word 'can’t' did not go unnoticed by either. Peri flinches. He had spent all week wrestling with the notion. It was only last night that he had scribbled the note down. There was nothing in Da Rules about another kid wishing for someone to not lose their memories. His mom was right, there are a lot of loopholes.

   Peri had hoped and hyped himself up enough that being a godparent would fix him. If he could recreate it, he wouldn’t feel the dreams of his childhood each night turn to mourning. Deep nostalgia for a time that seemed imagined rather than the most impressionable years of his immortal life. Hijinks among his and his parents’ god-kids flooded him with memories. Waves of jealously crashed down as Dev and Hazel shared their youth, times they’ll have forever.

  Peri could not live eternity drowning.

  The human boy felt awkward, it never occurred when he wasn’t the most grieved one in the room. Dev knew, though not consciously, that grief was not just losing someone. It was being lost yourself. Each day happened, it was not unnoticed, but it wasn’t remembered.

    “Well….what would I even be wishing for? I was taught not to sign something before reading it, err wishing.”

 Peri’s wings flutter briefly. Was Dev considering it? What was he supposed to say? He gathers himself as much as he can to stop shaking from nerves.

    “Timmy Turner is someone really important to me. Like, he’s kinda the whole reason I exist.” He pauses, waiting for Dev’s reaction.

    “I thought the green fairy was your dad?”

    “No, not like that. Although, I guess he did wish for my dad to get pregnant.”

    “Your dad was WHAT?” Dev shouts but Peri is quickly on him again, hand pressed tight over the kid’s mouth. Dev only briefly struggles to push him off, dramatically gasping for breath.

    “It’s complicated okay? I just, it would mean everything to me, to my parents, if you could wish this.” Peri interjects before Dev can close curtain on his overreaction.

     Cutting a glare that isn’t so much as throwing the knife but threatening to, Dev straightens himself. “What’s in it for me?”

  Whatever miserable feelings Peri has disappear into steam when he reddens from frustration at the kid’s incredulousness.

     "'In it for you?!' You literally have anything you have ever wanted at your finger tips. You have ME! A fairy! With an endless amount of wishes. There is nothing I can’t give you if you want it!” Peri hisses. He might pass out, all the breath pushed from his lungs at this nightmare of a child. He takes a deep breath.

    “It’s a favor. I’m asking a favor Dev.”

  The kid did feel a little stupid saying that. It was such a habit. He’s never been in a situation that wasn’t an exchange. It’s not like Peri was going to stop granting him wishes if he said no. And besides being less annoying, there was nothing more the fairy could do if he said yes.

  Dev sighs, he knows he’s going to make the wish.

    “Do you know why kids get godparents to begin with?” Peri’s tone is drained of any animosity. It sounds hollow, like an echo instead of the real words.

  He isn’t sure if Peri is looking for an answer, but Dev is still feeling sheepish after his own selfishness.

     “No...”

  Fairy eyes are known to have a slight shimmer in their iris’, as if they held infinitesimal pieces of glitter. Dev hopes that it’s just the light magnifying the effect in Peri’s and not him on the verge of tears.

     “Because life isn’t fair. When life isn’t fair, kids get fairies. The fairies stay until life gets better or they grow up. But,” he falters then, a strained attempt at composure, “but they always forget.”

  He flutters down onto the side of Dev’s bed. Wings mirroring his melancholy as they droop. This is not a reserved sadness, it’s not something you can leave till nightfall, not anymore. Not now that he has to face it every day, worse that’s of his own volition. It’s a lonely feeling that twists and winds itself so tight he can’t stand it. Something had to be done.

      “I just can’t forget.” And there is a tear now, one he hopes his god-kid cant see with his head bowed.

  Hesitantly, Dev sits down. It’s rare for them to be on an even level when he’s not hovering. Peri is so small compared to the 10 year old, who feels like moving an inch might shatter his fairy.

      “Was he your first god-kid? Is that how, fairies like, reproduce or something? You run out of fairies for kids and when you need more you just…..your dad?” Dev can’t decide between disgust, curiosity, or confusion.

  Peri chuckles, plugging any leaks he has with a sniffle. He guesses he’ll get a few awkward questions on that later.

    “Eh, no. We grew up together. He’s kinda like - he’s my brother.” The statement is the only solid thing he can cling to. That one simple fact.

  He’s my brother.

    “I know it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s a lot to go over. But I promise if you do this for me, I will explain everything. Anything you want to know.”

  There is another thing that makes Dev feel like an idiot, and that’s his dad. Anytime there might be a sliver of a chance for him to pay attention or choose Dev over some money scheme, Dev falls for it every-time. A swell of hope and admiration fills his chest and then he’s getting the breath knocked out of him when, surprise, he’s never his dad’s choice. Peri was right about life not being fair. And it doesn’t just seem unfair for humans. But, if he got a fairy to even it out for him, maybe he could try too.

  Besides, he was going to-do it anyway.

    “Hey Peri?”

  He rubs his eyes with his sleeve for good measure and gives a mosaic smile of all the shattered hurt inside.

    “Yeah kid?” 

  Dev takes a breath.

    “I wish- “

[cottonlemonade]

Can I take menu 2 with strawberry milk and mocha and sit next to Kenma? thank you!!

When He Is Jealous

word count: 782 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Kenma x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, jealous boyfriend Kenma, as manager

Kenma knew his best friend liked to mess with people. He knew how much he enjoyed teasing and while Kenma himself was only good for some seriously soul crushing one-liners, Kuroo found a good match for bantering in you.

The setter liked half listening to you two going back and forth as you handed out the water bottles during a practice break, while he himself was glued to a screen of some gaming console he brought to school that day.

Every once in a while he would look up to see you smile at him and if he was lucky you’d give him a quick kiss before the next round of his game started.

But Kenma didn’t appreciate it when his friend took it too far.

The captain was currently doubled over with hyena-like laughter at some quip you threw his way, which admittedly, was very funny and Kenma grinned along until Kuroo turned to him and said, “You better watch out or I’m gonna take her from you.” then blew you a kiss with a wink and went back onto the court.

In his heart he knew Kuroo would never ever dare to make advances towards you but … he also knew that in comparison to his charismatic friend he wouldn’t stand a chance to keep you. If Kuroo really put his mind to it - or even just slightly tried - he could steal you, no problem, Kenma thought. Don’t be ridiculous, he told himself the next minute as he halfheartedly tossed a ball for Tora.

He looked over to you and you gave him a happy smile with a small wave.

There was nothing to worry about, he reminded himself. He’d take you to his house after school and he’d put his head in your lap, torn between cuddling against your plush thighs or soft tummy. And while he defeated the latest final boss in a game, you’d play with his hair and later he’d walk you home and kiss you goodnight for an absurd amount of time and you’d do that again the next day. All perfect. But then he glanced across the net to Kuroo and saw him wave to you as well and you returning it just as brightly. Kenma froze and the next ball Tora lopped his way bonked him on the head.

The ace laughed but when Kenma didn’t react at all he stepped closer.

“Hey, what’s up with you?”

Kenma ignored him and watched as you mockingly applauded a failed practice spike from Kuroo to which he replied with an equally unserious bow.

You caught your boyfriend’s eye and smiled again, but when he didn’t return it you mouthed “you okay?”.

Kenma nodded and snapped out of it, turning back to Tora to continue.

The rest of practice was just as sloppy for Kenma as it started. Coach Naoi marked it as an off day for him and told him to get some fresh air and rest, it would go better next time.

As the team filed out of the gym towards the changing rooms Kuroo turned to you and Kenma, “Wanna grab something from the convenience store on the way home?”

“Sure!”, you said immediately but stopped in your tracks when you felt a little tug.

Kenma had fallen a step behind and grabbed the hem of your red team jacket.

You turned in surprise. He didn’t look at you, just held tightly onto the fabric.

“Don’t go.”, he said to your shoes.

“Oh. Okay - you go ahead, Kuroo. We’ll take the scenic route today.”

Kuroo regarded his best friend with a thoughtful look, then nodded and grinned in that annoyingly knowing way of his.

“Sure thing, see you tomorrow!”

Once the team was out of earshot you took Kenma’s hand into yours.

“What’s going on, babe?” Your tone was sweet and casual and Kenma felt increasingly childish.

“Do you like Kuroo?”

“Hm? Of course I do.”

“I mean, do you like him more … than me?”

“What?!” Your reply came out way louder than intended and you apologized before repeating the question in a more suitable indoor voice.

“It’s just that you guys seem to get along so well, which is great, I guess, but -“

“Ken, are you jealous?”, you asked incredulously and couldn’t stop your lips from pursing in amusement.

“Tch, no.”, he scoffed lamely.

“You so are.”, you grinned.

“Am not!”, he insisted.

You kissed his pouty lips and he hmphed. You kissed him again. And again. Then peppered his face with kisses until he laughed and pushed you away.

“Okay okay! I know it was dumb.”

“Good! As long as you know that no one would stand a chance against you.”

a/n: thank you so much for the request! 🌟 I love writing for Kenma! I’m sorry it took so long, I may or may not have waited with this until after the movie so I’d have him fresh on my mind 😅 I hope you enjoyed it!

This is also officially the last of the requests for this event! Thank you again to everyone who participated, commented, liked and reblogged! I hope you had as much fun as I did! 🫶🏻

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU PT 3⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 1077 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5)

STORY: you consult avery about what happened with grayson and then receive an... unexpected text?

WARNINGS: none!!

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!!

A/N: sorry guys grayson doesn't make much of an appearance here it's more moving the plot forward... but i finally figured out what's gonna happen so the next one will be pretty long

“Hey Avery, can we talk for a sec?”

You stood nervously outside of her door and waited for a response.

There was the sound of shuffling from inside and then the door opened. 

She was dressed casually today, which you supposed made sense if she was helping Jameson get over his hangover. Just jeans and a sage green knit sweater. Her hair was down, falling past her shoulders. She was good at hiding it, but you could see the slight look of exhaustion in her eyes. You understood why.

Jameson in general was a lot more to handle than Grayson, let alone drunk. 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “Of course we can talk. Is everything alright?” She motioned for you to enter the room and you did, taking a seat at the end of her bed. She took a seat next to you. 

“Yeah, no, don’t worry. I’m fine. I just… wanted to talk to you about something.” It was clear that she knew this was more than a ‘girl problem.’ That’s what you, Avery, and Max called it, at least. They were never really problems that were specific to girls, but it kept Jameson and Xander especially out of your business. 

“What, don’t tell me you got stuck with a drunk Hawthorne last night too.”

“I wish I could,” you laughed. 

Avery grinned. “Wait, so what happened? Jamie didn’t tell me much. He was too out of it. Was still even this morning. Was it the four of them or…?”

“No, just him and Grayson, apparently,” you explained. “He told me they went out to drink, obviously came back drunk, and then for some reason decided it was a good idea to go for a swim as they were. Y’know, getting their clothes all wet.” “Okay, okay, that last part I knew,” Avery nodded along. “That was the one thing Jameson was able to tell me. And it was kinda obvious that he was all wet. Damn though, I can’t believe Grayson got drunk. What was that like?”

You laughed with her. Both of you knew the absurdity of the situation. 

“It was… different,” you answered truthfully. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you, actually, about Grayson.”

She leaned closer. “Oh?”

You told her everything. 

When the story was finished, including the details from what had happened earlier that morning in the kitchen, Avery was grinning wildly. 

You frowned.  “You’re laughing at me.”

“I am not laughing at you.”

“Then what’s on your face?”

“I’m smiling because what you told me was funny. Not laughing. That’s different.”

You gave her a face. 

“Okay, okay,” Avery said, wiping the smile off her face. Somewhat. “So, Grayson was basically flirting with you-”

“But I don’t think he meant it!” You interrupted quickly. 

“Why not?”

That got you to pause. 

You hadn’t asked yourself why you didn’t think he’d meant it. You just dismissed it. You didn’t know how Grayson was drunk- no one did. So you had no idea if he had a tendency to say things he didn’t mean or a tendency to say truths he normally wouldn’t. Or… something else. 

“Because he was drunk.” 

Avery wasn’t satisfied. “And?” “And when you’re drunk, you say things you don’t mean.” 

“Or you say things you do mean, but don’t want to admit to.”

What if- no. You shouldn’t think like that. Grayson was drunk and said those stupid things that he didn’t mean, those drunken lies. That’s all, nothing more. Avery was just saying that because her boyfriend was drunk about 55% of the time. Grayson wasn’t like that. 

“You’re not helping, Avery,” you told her. “I don’t want  to think he meant it.”

“Oh, but I think you do.”

You stared at her with mock offense. “Excuse me?”

“Are you kidding?” Avery asked, raising an eyebrow at you. She spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The way you were talking about what happened last night. You didn't just tell me. You, like, told me.”

“You make no sense.”

“And you’re in denial. Grayson said, while he was sober this morning, that he still wanted you.”

A small part of you knew she was right, maybe you should just admit that Grayson maybe did mean some of what he said. And even if you weren’t ready to admit it yourself, you secretly hoped he did mean it. But another part of you wanted to prove Avery wrong. And that part prevailed. 

“He was still hungover when he said that. He didn’t mean it.”

“Right, right. Grayson doesn’t want you and I didn’t inherit 46.2 billion dollars.” She rolled her eyes, and you couldn’t quite tell if it was playful or if she was genuinely annoyed. But then she smiled, and your unease dissipated. 

“You’re impossible,” she teased, nudging you gently. “Keep living in whatever delusion you want, I know Grayson’s in love with you.”

You audibly gasped. “Avery-!”

“Shh, the guy talk is over. C’mon, let me show you the stupidest article I read about myself online.”

~~

Days passed. Days.

And you still hadn’t spoken to Grayson.

Well, technically you had. If you saw each other in the hall, you’d exchange hellos. If you saw him in the kitchen during breakfast, which you learned always included cherries for some reason, you would have idle conversation about your mornings. But a real conversation discussing what happened when he was drunk and hungover? 

Never. 

It wasn’t that you were trying to avoid him, not intentionally at least. The two of you simply didn’t bring it up. You didn’t want to make things awkward between you- or any more awkward than it had already become. There was always that elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to bring up. The way his eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer, yet you could barely manage to meet his. 

And things stayed that way for almost a week. 

Until you received a text from him.

You had Grayson’s contact saved, of course, but you two never really texted. There was just… never a need to. So you were rightfully surprised when you received a notification from his number.

911

You stared down at it. You knew Grayson and his brothers had some sort of code for that, but you didn’t think that he’d send it to you.

What?

You know what it means Come to the pool

Then another message you didn’t expect.

Please

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[2012aura]

Spencer reid x reader where she has red lipstick on and kisses him all over his face and he’s just like giggle as reader just keeps doing it? (Hope u understand what I mean English isn’t my first language)

of course, i can do this, and your english is fine do not worry!

red kissies !

summary : being drunk and wearing red lipstick doesn't always stay clean.

warning : alcohol usage.

pairing : spencer reid x black!reader

it was a late friday night, and the bau had just closed a big case they were working on. you forgot who but someone suggested you all go out for drinks to celebrate, and gosh how could you say no?

so there you sat, five drinks deep, at the booth with spencer. his hand around your waist to keep you steady on your seat, nothing but a dozy smile left on your red lips. you leaned into spence, "can i kiss you spence?" you said breathlessly. maybe it was the alcohol giving you the confidence to kiss him in front of all his friends, or perhaps you were tired of being so scared of public displays of affection. a soft smile also overtook spencers beautiful features, the team looked at you both and could see heart eyes. "of course you can beautiful, kiss away," he said. you wasted no time diving into his lips, your lipstick starting to smear on him.

you moved your lips from against his letting yourself indulge in his now red and smiley face. that same dorky smile that came around every time you both watched some sci-fi movie. you started to kiss around his face, leaving red-tinted kissy marks all over his cheeks and neck. the team was still so invested and their eyes never darted away, even when spencer side-eyed them many times. they talked amongst themselves, in shock at how this night of drinking was coming to an end. your kisses soon filled most of his face, giggling to yourself about the absurd amount of kisses on him. "hm, i wonder who did all of these," you strung out your words, pointing to each and every kiss mark. spencer just sat there, with his heartwarming, loving smile, "I'm not sure, but if I'm correct, it must be the pretty lady in front of me," he said lovingly.

he got himself up from his seat, walking over to the team, leaving you to put your jacket on. "if you guys even so mutter of this ... you're dead," he said jokingly, while the team snickered at him. "pretty boy, your face is covered in kisses, can't take you seriously," said derek with a cheeky smile on. "yeah yeah whatever, bye you guys, we had a blast." spencer said as everyone also said goodbye, derek let another sly remark leave his lips. "yeah we can see that," he said which made the rest of the team erupt in laughter. spencer finished helping you put your jacket on and grabbed your hand, leading you to the exit. it was a chilly night, and your hair was now poofy from all the fun you all had. you both were too drunk to even consider driving so you walked, you didn't live too far from this little bar.

"spence, i love you, my pretty boy," you cooed while you lazily touched the side of his face. before spencer could reply another idea popped into your mind, "do you mind if i take a picture of us, just for memories you know?" spencer said he didn't mind at all. you took out your phone from your coat pocket ad snapped a couple pictures of you both, and then him alone. you weren't planning on posting them, at least not for a long time. "thank you for tonight spence, it was amazing" you said wholeheartedly, you were not approaching your apartment after walking for about fifteen minutes. "you're welcome baby, always wanna see you happy." spencer spoke as you both arrived at the apartment door. opening the door for you and letting you tumble upstairs as he locked the door. once you were both in the privacy of your own room you changed into something more comfortable for sleeping. you both sat on the edge of the bed, with cups of tea on your lap, and a book in spencers hand. you admired his face longly, with the red stains still on them. which is when you decided to take another picture of me, and one turned into ten until he acknowledged you.

"i know i said a picture lasts longer but i think you have enough," he laughed as he set his book and tea down, grabbing yours and doing the same. his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you up onto the bed and onto his chest. "let's rest now, yeah?" he said, and you sleepily nodded. the next morning all went well, you both woke up with a pounding headache but one detail went unnoticed until you fully opened your eyes, "SPENCER THE SHEETS!" you yelped, there were now red stains permanently stuck on your white sheets.

-

hopefully, you enjoyed it, leave a cmmt if you please!

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 10

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

~~ Continuing flashback ~~

Roger: T-that person…and I…

“We’re not friends. That person and I are complete strangers.”

Alec: …Thank you. —"That’s enough.“

—That promise changed our destiny.

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: …What happened to Alec after that?

Roger: The moment he released the curse, the police shot him dead. Died instantly by a bullet to the heart.

Kate: …Died instantly.

Roger: I stared at the blood that splattered everywhere, the sound of the gunshot ringing in my head. The sound was so loud to my ears that I passed out on the spot.

Kate: …Sound? Could it be that…

Staring right at me, Roger nodded silently.

Roger: I think curses are something you’re born with, not something you acquire. But…there’s always an incident that triggers a Cursed One’s power. Maybe it’s an incident that only happens when you’re born cursed. That your power appears.

Kate: …An incident that happens because you’re born cursed.

People call that “destiny” or “fate”.

Roger: You could say “a tragic turning point”. My “tragic turning point” came when I betrayed a cherished friend, and my cursed ability appeared from that.

~~ Flashback ~~

I passed out in the conservatory and then woke up in a bed at my old man’s clinic.

My old man told me that I was a Cursed One and that Alec died.

Roger’s father: I didn’t expect you to meet Alec…

Roger: Dad…Why did the police have to kill Alec?

Roger’s father: He was using connections from the Royal Hospital to sell organs to different countries. I had never thought that…he’d do something so barbaric.

Roger: You believe that?! Alec would never!

Roger’s father: Enough. That’s…enough, Roger. Forget about Alec and everything you saw.

~~ End flashback ~~

Roger: I found out later. Alec was being used for crimes by a doctor at the Royal Hospital.

Kate: So he was falsely accused and killed for it…?

Roger: Yeah. Sounds like the tragic fate of a “Cursed One”.

He smiled, crisp like a freshly dried bed sheet, before continuing.

However, the look on his face said he never got over it, and it made my chest ache.

Roger: When I finally got used to my curse, I went back to the conservatory. However, all the books and research on Cursed Ones disappeared, possibly confiscated by the police. Only the plants there breathed quietly.

Kate: Nothing from Alec…?

Roger: Only one. A letter he left under a flowerpot.

Apparently the flowerpot was something Roger and Alec looked after together.

To my little friend Roger.

The letter that began with the salutation was written on a single sheet of paper.

In it, he wrote that should anything happen to him, he wanted Roger to forget about him and his research on Cursed Ones.

Roger: …You’re aware that Cursed Ones are doomed to meet a “tragic end”, right?

Kate: Yes…

I forced out my trembling voice as I nodded.

Roger: I’m sure Alec knew, which was why he lived every day imagining the worst that could happen. At the time, I felt a strong resentment toward the absurd destiny of “Cursed Ones”. It wasn’t his fault and the cause was unknown. Yet, there was no way to escape the tragic end… It was worse than any terrible disease.

(Worse than any disease or abomination…That’s what “curses” were)

Roger: And so that’s when I decided how I wanted to live my life.

Kate: What you’re trying to do is…

When I looked at him in question, Roger took a deep breath.

And he replied with an unwavering voice.

Roger: I wanna make curses disappear from this world. No…I definitely will with my own hands before my life ends.

Kate: …

Roger: To find out how, I went to Crown, where Cursed Ones assembled.

(This is the reason why Roger joined Crown)

Roger: And then I met new Cursed Ones through Vogel. I’m gonna get their data as soon as possible.

If you’re with Crown, you could collect data on Cursed Ones.

Not only that, being in Her Majesty’s territory made it easier to get valuable materials and medicine.

(Roger’s decision was rational, that’s all I could say)

(But, Roger must have his own conflict too…)

A future where he took over his father’s clinic, a life where he didn’t have to kill people that sinned.

Roger abandoned all that and was now with Crown.

Kate: Is Crown aware that you’re researching how to get rid of curses…?

Roger: I’ve never told them, but I’m sure some of them have an idea. It’s cruel to give strange expectations, but it’s not something I wanna hide.

Kate: …Cruel to give expectations?

Roger: Take Liam for example. That guy’s the son of a well-known confectioner who burned his house and everyone in it down…because of his curse.

Kate: …Liam did?

Roger: When Victor found him, he was on the roof of an asylum…I don’t need to tell you the rest.

My chest ached as I pictured Liam’s kind smile.

Roger: If some drug to remove curses existed, he’d take it. But there are others who wouldn’t. With Will, he awoke his ability when he was able to talk.

Kate: So young? Then…

Roger: Yeah. People like WIll are one with their curse. Plus, he already has it under complete control.

Kate: …I see. The way everyone deals with and feels about their curse is different.

Roger nodded once and then stretched his arms out wide as if tucking the curse back into his heart.

Roger: Do you wanna know an interesting story like this, Kate? Currently, there’s rumors going around that Britain’s doing secret flight experiments.

Kate: By flying, do you mean experimenting with people flying in the sky?

Roger: Yeah, that’s right.

I tried to picture it.

But the idea of humans flying in the sky like birds sounded like a dream.

Roger: If the experiment succeeds, the world will be a lot more convenient. Like flying across the ocean and transporting stuff.

Revolutionary +4 +4

I can’t imagine it

It’s a little scary…

That’s pretty revolutionary!

Roger: Yeah,  I guess. But even if it’s convenient, don’t you think it’s also dangerous? It could be used as a weapon in war.

Kate: …Ah.

Roger: New things bring huge changes, good and bad. They can either be poison or medicine.

A smile slowly formed in Roger’s eyes as he stared at me.

Roger: Now here’s a question for my cute pet dog. Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world? You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.

Kate: …Okay.

I recorded Roger’s question in my heart and turned to him with a smile.

Kate: Also, thank you for the explanation.

Roger: You’re welcome, lil’ lady. …Ah, we’re almost back to London.

The twilight sky deepened, casting a soft glow on Roger’s profile.

His past definitely wasn’t a bright one.

And yet, I listened to him speak naturally, like water flowing down a river, because accepted his past and spoke plainly.

(He’s able to do that because…)

Roger: …What’s up?

Kate: Ah, it’s nothing. Just… I was thinking…what a strong person you are.

(Unwavering willpower. Tough, flexible, unbreaking…)

Roger: What’s with that all of a sudden? Well, I guess I am stronger than you since you’re still learning to be strong.

(Why does that…make me a bit sad?)

Roger: Now then, here’s a request from the strong, tough, nice guy Roger. I’ve told you everything about my past. How are you going to pay me back for the information?

Kate: Wha?! You never said anything about that…

Roger: Always be careful of things too good to be true. Good thing you’re a well-behaved one.

(D-damn it…!)

I unconsciously clenched my fists and Roger came closer with that awful smile of his.

Roger: What should I get? Ah, that’s it. How ‘bout we have a study session on this thing you call romantic love.

Kate: Study session…on romantic love?

Roger: I still don’t believe that romantic love exists. If it stays like that, it’ll affect your growth map. …That’s not good, is it?

His provocation ignited my competitive spirit.

Kate: Let’s study love then! I’ll teach you what it is.

Roger: And how will you teach me?

Kate: Let’s go on a date!

Next

[ko-existing]

https://www.tumblr.com/ko-existing/766133693448372224/httpswwwtumblrcomko-existing7661320713789440?source=share

Ko, please, how do I stop being so desire driven? I’m not asking this as a lesson, but more like a genuine advice from person to person. I’m 100% this is what keeps me from truly seeing the bigger picture.

I tried many times to just let go and not care about outcomes or read the lessons thinking “yeah, this will make me get the things”, but I can’t. Even if I try to convince myself there’s something deep down saying I clearly still only care about the outcomes. It’s tiring not only because it keeps me walking in circles, but also because I experience episodes of pure joy cause “yes, I can get it, it’s easy” and then ones of pure depression thinking “this is bullshit, you’re understanding it all wrong and won’t get anything, deal with it. You’ll never get anything.” It’s always the extremes, you know? 08 or 80.

I tried to simply step back of everything and just move on with the knowledge I’ve got to see if my mind and thought process unfolds naturally and I stop feeling this incessant seeking for finally KNOWING true self instead of seeing as a belief, but I always end up falling on that depression phase and constant need for reassurance that “yes, you’ll get it”, but as you know, it never leads me to nowhere when I’m constantly reading, and asking, and seeking.

You say “step back and ponder” and say that when we encounter the silence it should be enough, but for me somehow is not and it frustrates me because logically should be enough, I mean, I’m literally being left with the nothingness, what else could I possibly need to understand, right?

I just wanna stop feeling limited, trapped and suffering and most importantly, I want to stop being the cause of all of this suffering. But I placed my desires as the ultimate happiness and this constant feeling of separation never goes away. Why is so simply to read and understand “everything is formless”, but when actually “practicing” and applying seems so absurd? God, I’ve been this way this whole year and I’m so sick of it.

To answer genuinely—you're thinking too much.

If you’re feeling caught in this cycle of extreme highs and lows, it might help to try sitting with your thoughts in a more observing way, which can give you a clearer view of what’s driving the whole process. And no, IT IS NOT A NECESSITY. It's a help to watch without getting lost in thoughts but it is NOT A MUST.

I've been on tumblr long enough to know what to expect from other anons reading this like "i thought meditation is not nevessary". No one is saying throw on an orange robe, head off to the himalayan mountains to sit on a rock in a cave, drink Bo cha, chew on Chülen, start fasting and chant " ཨོཾ་མ་ཎི་པདྨེ་ཧཱུྃ" (om mani padme hum) around the clock like it's your monastic lifestyle job.

So, again, I'm not saying this is a necessity or a “must-do”. Meditating, or simply Noticing, can help you see your thoughts without getting so wrapped up in each one—nothing more. There are different options like listening to a guided one or just background music/sounds like rain. I personally like it. So, If it helps, it helps. If it doesn't, see what does.

I've also been on Tumblr long enough to know how quickly people start labeling everything as a “method” or a requirement, so just to be clear again: I’m not saying any of that!

The main thing here is to relax this intense drive for outcomes. You can actually start looking at these desire-driven thoughts as just “passing content”—and yes, this practice can help. When a thought like “I need this outcome to be happy” pops up, instead of believing it automatically, you could take a step back and notice that it’s just a thought arising out of nowhere and passing into nowhere. Watching thoughts like this reminds you they don’t define you and have no reality to them.

Also, see if you can bring your attention back to what’s here without needing to grasp, judge, or chase. Every time you relax that urge for outcome, you’re giving yourself a chance to rest in something that isn’t tied to outcomes at all. " ".

Experience what’s beyond the cycle of “wanting” and “fearing.” Keep it simple, remember it’s a gentle, easy redirection rather than some heavy practice. Never force anything. If you don't want to do it, don't. And never overconsume.

[pablitogavii]

I love you too

Summary: One where the reader is scared of the three letter word because of the way she's been raised :)

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: mentions of smut but nothing graphic/ slight angst/ fluffy ending <3

She has been dating Pablo for some time now and they went though hell and back since the world found out about their relationship.

The survived all the gossip, judgment, obsessive fanatics and still maintained a stable and healthy relationship. They have never loved each other more, and for the first time in awhile they were both happy.

Pablo had just came back from Madrid after a game, when they made love to each other for hours next to a fire place showing to each other just how much they missed being together.

"That was amazing Gavinho.." she smiled laying on his strong chest still catching her breath while staring at the raging fire next to them.

"I love you Y/N.." he said and she felt her face getting serious as she comprehended the meaning of his words. She stayed quiet.

Nobody ever told her those three words before...in her house it wasn't common to hear people "loving" each other..it was more like they "respected" one another..so she didn't even know what those words really meant.

"Um.." he said nervously when she wasn't replying and she got up from his chest holding sheets close to her naked chest finding the best possible excuse to go home.

"I should finish that project.." she said obviously lying but he felt so embarrassed for saying like that so suddenly to her so he nodded helping her collect her clothes watching her get dressed.

Why didn't she say it back? Did she not feel the same?

When she got up, he walked her to the door pulling her waist back and leaving another kiss on her swollen lips which she gladly accepted giving him a weak smile.

"We are good..I'll see you tomorrow" she said leaving quickly while Gavi went back to bed staring up at the celling wondering what had just happened..was he pushing you hard so soon?

The next day, Pablo arrived to the training center way early not really getting any decent sleep last night and it really did show as all his teammates commented how dreadful he looked.

"Might consider getting your sleep schedule checked, kid!" Xavi even said and Pablo apologized for slacking off during training getting caught by Pedri who pulled him to the side.

"Is everything okay hermano? Is it Y/N?" he said and Pablo nodded knowing he can trust his best friend with this.

"I said "I love you" to her last night...but she didn't say it back" Pablo explained to Pedri feeling his heart breaking as he remembered wishing he knew why you didn't love him back...he wanted you to love him back so badly.

"You know how her parents are hermano, they are colder than winter..maybe she just got scared you know? But there in no doubt she feels the same as you..just give her some time to realize it" Pedri assured and Pablo nodded hoping that he didn't scare you away forever.

She couldn't sleep either neither could she function the next day at school...she kept thinking about last night and those three words Pablo used.

"I love you Y/N..." kept replaying in her head when her best friend interrupted her thoughts brining her back to reality.

"Alright, what happened?"

"Nothing..I..."

"Wanna try again? Something clearly upset you"

"He said he loves me...last night, after we made love..but I don't know what that means..so I didn't say anything...and I think I lost him forever now"

"Oh, don't be absurd. Pablo wouldn't give up on you so easily! Boy is obsessed with you..it's kinda adorable actually"

"I'm obsessed with him too...I think I might feel the same...what do I do now?"

"Wait for him at his place and tell him! You still have the key, right?"

"Yeah.." and with the last school bell she departed to Pablo's apartment to wait for him to return from his trainings.

Pablo stayed long after the training to hand out with the guys, truthfully because he couldn't get himself to lay in the bed he slept with her so many times before..it made him think about last night and he didn't want that.

"Alright, let's head home chicos!" Ansu said when it was almost midnight and everyone agreed so Pablo didn't have another choice than to go home..to his cold bed..without her next to him.

While Pedri was giving him a ride, he kept checking his phone for a text or a call but nothing came. He knew when her school ended but she didn't reach out to him the whole day...maybe she will never reach out again.

"She will call again...just time hermano" Pedri said like he was reading Pablo's mind making him smile weakly before exiting the car and getting into his apartment building.

He unlocked his door walking inside and tossing the keys to the jar before taking off his jacket little startled when he saw her sleeping on his couch.

His heart started beating fast that he saw her again as he came closer and touched her cheek softly(gif)...she was so beutiful.

"P..Pablo?" she opened her eyes unaware that she fell asleep looking up at him sleepily. He smiled nodding his head and squatting down to grab her bridal style and carry her to bedroom.

When he put her underneath the covers and walked to the closet to get changed, she started fidgeting with her fingers nervously..she wanted to say it back to him..she was ready..but she was scared...what if he changed his mind after last night?

"I love you too!" she just blurred out making him come out of the walk in closet shirtless and in his boxers with raised eyebrows.

"Um..I.." she got up from the bed walking towards him snaking her arms around his shoulders "love..." she went on her tip toes " you.." she pecked his lips "too" and the moment all that left her lips he grabbed her body making her snake her legs around his torso as he kissed her passionately.

He tossed her onto the bed hovering above her with a bright smile on his face while looking down at her glowing eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it last night..I didn't know.." she tried to explain herself but he stopped it with another kiss training kisses down her neck.

"I know amor....you haven't heard someone say it before..you got scared but I promise to show you what love feels like..if you'd let me?" Pablo said and you smiled nodding your head with tears falling down your face but he kissed them away capturing your lips again.

I hope you enjoyed! <33

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What do you think about theory that Lila is Manon from future?

I am vaguely aware that this is a thing, but I'm also assuming that it's a joke and not a serious theory because that would be one of the most asinine things that I've ever seen. This fan theory is even worse than the pigeon feather thing in terms of absurdity. It should be reserved for crack fic and nothing else. However, this show never fails to impress me with its poor-quality writing choices, so let's take a quick moment to talk about why this wouldn't be a good twist.

The issue isn't the time travel thing. Lila being from the future is perfectly in line with the sort of crazy stuff that Miraculous does to the point where I wouldn't be shocked if Lila is from the future! Maybe Ladybug and Chat Noir "wronged" her and so she came back in time to try to stop them from being a thing or something like that? It fits her characters. Lila has been shown to be incredibly petty and, whatever is going on, it's clear that she came to Paris with an agenda otherwise why go the multiple identities and parents route?

However, if this from-the-future twist ends up being a thing, then Manon would be the worst choice for Lila's true identity because Manon is a well established character who shares no obvious traits with Lila. The only things that the two characters have in common are their hair and eye colors (or, at least, the hair and eye colors that Lila now has). Nothing else ties them together.

Yes, Manon does her baby-doll-eye manipulation thing, but that's not a sign that she's secretly a master manipulator or a compulsive liar! It's just a thing that little kids do. Boundary pushing is par for the course at that age.

For Manon to be a good baby Lila, we'd need to see Manon doing some actual quality manipulation tactics that trick people instead of just standard little kid pouting and boundary-pushing techniques. There's no point at which Manon is successfully lying to get what she wants. Her requests are always rather blatant and no one but Marinette falls for her "manipulations" because everyone else knows how to deal with little kids as we see in these two exchanges from Puppeteer:

Nadja: Alright, now give the doll back to Marinette. Manon: NO! I wanna keep it! Marinette: She can if she wants. I told her she could borrow it. Nadja: And that's sweet of you, Marinette, but Manon already has so many toys at home, I wouldn't even know where to put it.

Marinette: Manon! What are you- Manon: I left my bag here! Can I have Ladybug? Marinette: You heard what your mom said. Manon: She wouldn't know if I hide it!

Not exactly gold star manipulation tactics here. They'd fail if Marinette had a backbone.

Could you really picture Lila acting like this? I can't and that's the problem. Because Manon is an existing and well-established character, they have had time to make her into baby Lila. Time to set up the twist. But they haven't. They've just written your standard boundary-pushing little kid. Her behavior is really not all that different from Ella and Etta's (Alya's little sisters), so why would Manon be Lila and not one of them?

That's another problem. If you're going to have a big twist like this, then Manon needs to feel different from the other kid characters and she doesn't. Really think about this for a minute! As far as the kid characters' behavior goes, what's the difference between Puppeteer and Sapotis? I'd argue that there isn't one. In both episodes you see little kids pushing boundaries, leading to them being punished, leading to them getting akumatized.

In Puppeteer we get this:

Manon: But, Marinette wanted me to have it! Nadja: You disobeyed me. I told you the dolls were to stay at her house. You won't be needing these anymore. Manon: NO! Mommy, please don't! Nadja: I'm not happy about this. Wait for me here.

In Sapotis we get this:

Ella and Etta: It's not us! It's the—! Alya: That's it! (picks up the twins) Ella and Etta: Come on, Alya! We won't do it again! Alya: Yeah? Well, it's too late! (takes off both twins' propeller hats) We'll all go to the park when you can behave, some other day! Now go to sleep!

Extremely similar scenes with extremely similar outcomes.

Another similarity is Manon, Ella, and Etta's behavior in Simpleman. They're basically interchangeable in that episode, further killing this theory.

If this twist was going to be a thing, then I'd also expect us to see Lila and Manon interact at least once since we do let Lila talk to the kids on a few occasions. And if we didn't get that, then I'd definitely expect us to see a moment between Lila and Nadja or even a moment where Lila avoids Nadja. Anything to establish some sort of tie between Lila and this little family that she was once a part of. As-is, canon has done diddly squat to tie them together so I don't understand why the fandom is making this tie. Do people just really dislike Manon and want her to be evil?

In summary, Lila is - at most - a decade older than Manon, so we should see seeds of Lila already starting to form, but we don't. Lila holds grudges, Manon doesn't. Lila lies left and right, Manon doesn't. Lila plots, Manon doesn't. Lila hates Ladybug and Chat Noir, Manon adores them. In other words, nothing in the text backs up the idea that Manon would become Lila in a few short years, so where did this theory even come from?

[wonfilms]

calling after me ⭒˚｡⋆🖁[ lee heeseung ]

genre: slight angst? fluff

word count: 0.9k,

warnings: cursing, friends with benefits though its never explicitly stated

a/n: this is my debut being out and proud about being a die hard wallows girl btw !! this is based of their recent single "calling after me" pls check it out teehee >-< , i hope u guys like this even though it's js my brainrot !

you know you shouldn’t call him.

you know it’ll end up like it always does.

kissing in the back of his car late at night,  whispered silent goodbyes, before you’re both left with empty apartments at night and sorry little texts for some sort of remembrance that you weren’t making the whole thing up.  

at times it sure felt like it, it was all a complete secret. heeseung was… a friend. a good friend… and that’s all. that’s all it should’ve been.

so why were you sat at this boring party that you had no business being at, wishing he’d walk out of the crowd, knowing damn well that he wasn’t here. 

you’d been out all night, and your head throbbed from the alcohol hoping for a distraction though your heart was aching for something else.

who were you kidding? you knew what the "something" was.

him. 

your finger hesitated on his contact, you didn’t know if you deserved the effects of this stupid game you were playing. you didn’t know if he deserved it either. 

this had been going on for months. a cruel sort of limbo between being friends and the precipice of something more.

he wasn’t your boyfriend, which sounds absurd in hindsight. he was someone who knew everything about you. someone who had held you close while you cried and stayed by your side through thick and thin. someone who has kissed you more times than you can count, someone who you spend countless nights with talking about nothing and everything all at the same time.

hell this man even had his own extra toothbrush at your place. 

he was the person that you thought of before you closed your eyes at night, the first name that you remember when you wake up. 

you didn't quite know what to do but one thing ran clear : this can’t keep dragging on.

you swallowed, pressing “call” before holding your breath in nervousness briefly.

one ring, 

two rings..

and on the third ring he picked up, his voice hitting you like a painful reminder of what you needed but didn’t deserve. he sounded tired, voice raspy from sleep. 

“hey baby? you alright, you’re calling kinda late?” heeseung murmured. 

“baby”, just the name reminded you of how damn close you two had gotten.. it’s not meant to be like this, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it to be.

you checked the time. 

fuck he was right, it was already 1am.

you didn’t quite know what to say. there was too much to say. it wasn’t fair to say "why can't we be more than this?" over the phone... even though that's what you so desperately wanted to spew out repeatedly into the receiver in the hopes that maybe it'd come true, so you simply said what was the usual between you two.

“wanna go on a drive?” your voice was meek, almost like you were embarrassed to even say it. 

and of course, he fucking agreed, whispering that he’d be there in ten minutes. like he always does. like he always is.. never more that 2 minutes late. 

you sat on the wall dangling your legs as you stayed deep in your own thoughts for a while, before you heard him calling your name cutting through the silent ambience of the night. you were so gone that you didn't even hear his car pull up.

you look up from the floor and he’s stood there in front of you gently. your heeseung.

except he’s not quite yours. 

“why’re you moping like that, doll?” his voice is gentle, and he softly touches your hand, squeezing it as he gently helps you down from your seat. you didn’t quite know what came over you but you fell into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

maybe it was the alcohol, but perhaps it was just easier to blame it on that than the fact your feelings were eating you alive.

heeseung froze lightly before reciprocating gently, hugging you back though his face was painted in slight confusion. your heart raced as he let out a soft little laugh. “what’s this hmh?” he whispered.

you couldn’t help but crack a smile at him, he had that effect on you. even when you were feeling like utter crap he had a way of flipping it all over till you were laughing over the most mundane little thing. “nothin’...” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest, “missed you is all” 

you could hear his heart beat grow faster at that, your smile growing with the pace of the rhythm. “missed me hm?” he teased, “and why would that be-?”

you knew he was only half joking, expecting you to crack some sort of sexual innuendo, but you swallowed before speaking. “because i love you.”  it slipped out before you could even stop it.

he stopped, his smile replaced with a slight look of shock, “l...love me?”

you paused, you’d fucked up. messed it all up for closure. this was the end, your throat ran dry, not quite knowing what to say.  

he stood forward gently, softly taking your hand in his. “why do you look so nervous pretty?” he jokes.

he fucking jokes. and you don’t quite know why.

“because.. i fucked us up by saying that didn’t i..?” you could barely speak, your head swimming with possible outcomes, but what he did next was not one of them. 

his hand softly pulled you towards him, holding you back to his chest in a warm hug, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “say it again won’t you?” his heart raced in unison with yours, his gaze filled with anticipation, a blush gracing his cheeks.

“i.. love you” you murmured, unsure of what he was getting at exactly, until he softly pressed his lips to yours a gentle chuckle leaving his mouth as you felt him hum happily against your lips, a soft whispered confession slipping past against your lips, “i love you too, like a lot.” he whispered just loud enough that your brain barely comprehended it before you’re kissing him back.

his hands cupping your face holding you tight, just like all the times you've kissed before, but this time you feel whole knowing it was all really real. he did love you back. just as much.

[howlingday]

Jaune go's to a monster school au. He is a Human aloud to go because his family His ability and his abundance of Mana. He was never that how to use it the So, despite getting similar results to other students, he uses absurd amounts of manna on stuff that really should abuse that much. Weiss is a vampier, rwby werewolf, yang a dragon, penny a golem, Blake is a werecat, Ren a ghost, Nora a Valkyrie, pariah is a demigod daughter of Aries.

Jaune: Hi, I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and rolls of the tongue. The ladies love it~.

Jaune: ...Okay, maybe they don't now, but they will! Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about. See, I kind of need to vent, and this is the only way I really can.

Jaune: But what do I have to vent about? I have a great family, a lot of great friends, and a bright future ahead of me! I just... have to survive until I reach it.

Jaune: ...Let me start over. My name is Jaune Arc, the only son born to the Arc family, who are one of the few families on Remnant with access to mana, or magic. I'm not very good at it, but I'm good enough to not be allowed to go to normal, regular people school.

Jaune: So that's why I'm attending Beacon's Light Academy of Magic, which was explained to me at one of the four "Great Mage" academies in Remnant, along with Atlas's Might, Haven's Garden, and Vacuo's End. It's not so bad so far, since I'm learning a lot at Beacon with my best friend, Ruby Rose.

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

Jaune: What's for lunch, Ruby?

Ruby: (Sniffs) Mm... Beef...

Jaune: What else?

Ruby: Uh... I don't know. Why? The only thing you need to eat is beef, pork, and chicken, right?

Jaune: Uh...

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

Jaune: See, Ruby is a werewolf. Yeah. You heard me. Half-human, half-wolf. I don't really know what the story is, since I don't really pry into her business, but Ruby basically has what's called "primal mana," which is magic based on tapping into your most base instincts and emotions, like fear, anger, and hunger. She's usually cool, except on the days that have full moons later that night, then she gets super irritable. She can still go to day classes, but she has to go to the safety bunker before... Well, based on the claw marks I see getting fixed the next morning, it's something super bad. Like, so bad, Weiss can't go to her night classes.

Jaune: Oh, speaking of Weiss, she's also my friend, and I kinda have crush on her. ...Okay, she's not really my friend yet. More of a friend of a friend. But I'm getting there, I think. But it might be best for me to keep my distance from her because the reason I can only see her so few times is because...

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

Jaune: Oh, uh, h-hey, Weiss!

Weiss: For the love of... Good morning, Jaune.

Jaune: So, uh, how... How were your classes?

Weiss: Fine, Jaune.

Jaune: Cool, cool... So, uh... Do you... wanna get some... blood?

Weiss: (Puts her book down)

Weiss: (Slowly turns to look at him, Bewildered)

Jaune: ...Is that a no?

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

Jaune: Look, if someone as flat and uninteresting as romance novel teens can get vampires, why shouldn't I try my luck? You know, besides the fact that I'm Type-O and probably a better meal than a friend to her. Nevertheless, I will keep trying... until she tells me she wants nothing to do with me. Which she hasn't. Yet. But she won't! Maybe.

Jaune: Anyway, being a vampire is kind of a double-edged lottery sword. It's part of something called "genesis mana," or "Blood Magic". Only people of a certain bloodline can access this, but it also curses your family to become some kind of monster, like a vampire, a wendigo, or even a werewolf. And that's why the Schnee family is so picky about who hangs out with who. My dad used to tell me that some families turn away suitors because "certain blood dulls the mana". He also tells me it's stupid, but also stupid to try my luck. Thankfully, he's not here to judge me, and I have friends who're willing to support me, like Ruby and...

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

Penny: Sal-u-tations~!

Jaune: Oh, hey, Penny. What's going on?

Penny: I have heard about your recent failures with friend Weiss and have been instructed by friend Ruby to cheer you up!

Ruby: W-What?! N-No, I didn't!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: (Writes on a napkin) Ruby, I have a command written on this napkin. The command is, "Show me every command Ruby gave." You either tell me the truth, or I ask Penny to eat this.

Ruby: She can say no, though, so there!

Jaune: Penny, would you like to eat this napkin with a command written on it?

Penny: Yes, I would!

Ruby: NOOOOOOO!

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

Jaune: She's also a really great lie detector. I mean, except for when telling her own lies. That's just how golems are, I guess. Penny is kind of a... experiment Atlas is testing out at Beacon. She's going to be attending here as a way to test if golems are sentient and capable of safely interacting with other people. Why a school full of young adults would be considered safe, I have no idea, but I'm glad to have a friend like Penny around. And as far as I can tell, whether you were born or crafted together with "creati mana," you're still human to me!

Jaune: Uh, I mean people! You're still people to me! Hah... Sorry... Last time I said "human," I got on the bad side of...

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

Blake: You were late to class.

Jaune: Sorry, sorry!

Blake: Being sorry doesn't excuse you showing up late.

Jaune: Right, sorry. I was up late last night, reading a really good issue of X-Ray and Vav.

Blake: ...You stayed up late. For a comic book.

Jaune: A really good one! You like reading, don't you?

Blake: ...

Blake: (Digs claws into the table)

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

Jaune: Yeah, Ruby isn't the only one who can access "primal mana". In fact, it's a lot more common for faunus to access it than humans, for obvious reasons. But unlike Ruby, Blake seems irritated all the time when it comes to hanging out with me. Honestly, she feels more like a friend of a friend than Weiss does with me. Almost every word that I say seems to piss her off, and I don't know why.

Jaune: Hah... Guess I'm just unlucky with girls as friends, since I get along really well with...

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

Jaune: Yo, Ren!

Ren: Good morning, Jaune.

Jaune: Any luck last night?

Ren: Not yet. But I did rearrange the recipe in the cafeteria for a healthier meal this afternoon.

Jaune: Oh... Uh...

Ruby: WHERE'S THE BEEF?!

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

Jaune: Ren is a ghost, and he's been haunting this school for the past... I don't really know. But what I do know is how Ren got to where he is now. See, he was human, like me, and before he died in school, he cast a spell that bound his soul to the school.

Ren: Wrong.

Jaune: AGH!

Ren: I was attuned with "psyki mana" and could manifest my soul so I could find my best friend after I died. We were supposed to graduate, but when I finally came to life, she'd already left without me.

Jaune: Wait, you didn't cast a spell or anything?

Ren: In order for me to cast, I would require access to my aura, which was lost in my final moments. But my soul is still present, though it requires time and effort to manifest.

Jaune: ...

Ren: You can just say you don't know.

Jaune: I don't know. But, uh, were you able to get into the office?

Ren: No. Access to the office is protected from every mana variant known to Remnant. Nothing magical in nature, including a ghost, can enter.

Jaune: Geez, that's rough. You know who might be able to help?

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

Nora: Alright, alright, what's going on now?

Jaune: Uh, well, I was just making my way to class when suddenly-

Nora: Were you attacking this poor girl?!

Jaune: What?! No! It's the other way around!

Nora: HA! Yeah, right! Look at you! You're twice her size and SHE attacked you?

Ruby: You stole my comic book!

Jaune: I did not!

Nora: Oh, really? Hand it over, kid.

Jaune: But-

Nora: HAND. IT. OVER.

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

Jaune: ...On second thought, nevermind. Valkyries aren't really that helpful, are they?

Ren: It depends on what the situation is. If it's in response to a violent crime, they are merciless and will do whatever it takes to protect the innocent in the magic realm.

Jaune: But if it's a petty crime?

Ren: They... can be a bit biased in who they assist. Unless their opponent is a hostile monster with a weapon, they're not good with delegation and diplomacy. But they do care.

Jaune: Well, you could always ask one, right?

Ren: Unfortunately, no. Valkyries are protected by a specialized armor that prevents the effects of mana. A ghost like me can't even be seen by them, let alone get near one.

Jaune: Dang... Well, best of luck to you.

Ren: Thank you. Also, before I leave, I was asked to find you.

Jaune: Really? By who?

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

Jaune: Uh, h-hi...

Pyrrha: H-Hi...

Jaune: ...

Pyrrha: ...

Jaune: So, uh-

Pyrrha: DADDY, NO!

Jaune: Wha-?

Jaune: (Sees giant boar barreling at him)

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

Jaune: Ugh... Great... You ever heard of helicopter parents? Well, with someone like Pyrrha, her helicopter dad comes equipped with a rocket launcher and twin machine guns. And a hatred for any boy that gets close to his daughter. Kind of expected since her dad is the God of War. And when I say god, I mean ALL the gods of war to have ever existed. It's part of her "deity mana," where a very lucky few are literal descendants of the divine. And hers happens to be the embodiment of war, violence, and combat. So not only can her dad kick my ass, but SHE can kick my ass!

Jaune: I don't know how I'm going to survive this school, but hey, here's hoping I can at least make it to graduation!

Jaune: ...Er, no offense, Ren.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Can i request something with deadpool and plus size reader love confession scene? Maybe reader thinks they arent attractive enough for him? Other than that you can take full creative liberty!

Serenade in Scarlet

You’d been trying to avoid him all day. Which, considering you were working together on a mission, wasn’t exactly easy. But after what you overheard last night—about how Deadpool was way out of your league—you couldn’t bring yourself to face him. It wasn’t like you’d ever had a chance, right? But now that the truth was out there, it hurt more than you’d expected.

“Hey, wait up!” Wade’s voice rang out from behind you as you quickened your pace down the alley. Of course, he’d catch up. The man had the stamina of… well, whatever kind of thing that never stops.

“Not now, Wade. We’ve got a job to finish,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral as you ducked into another side street.

“Oh no, no, no. We’re not doing this,” Wade called back, his voice closer now. “You’re not running away from me, babycakes.”

You winced at the nickname, but kept moving. Of course, Wade wasn’t one to let something go. He darted around in front of you, blocking your path with his body, arms outstretched like he was in some action movie standoff.

“Seriously, move,” you grumbled, looking anywhere but at his masked face.

“What’s with the cold shoulder? Did I forget our anniversary or something? Wait… do we have an anniversary? That would imply we’re a thing…” His voice trailed off as if pondering something serious.

“Wade, please. I’m just not in the mood for jokes,” you said, finally meeting his gaze, even if all you could see were those white eye patches on his mask.

“Oh, so it’s serious, then?” he asked, and for once, there was no teasing in his voice. He took a step closer, and you felt your breath hitch. “You’ve been avoiding me all day, and I wanna know why.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. “I just… I heard what they said. Last night, after the mission. About how you’re way out of my league. And they’re right, Wade. You’re this… superhero, and I’m just me. I get it. I’m not—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Wade interrupted, holding up a hand. “Did you actually hear me agree with any of that crap?”

You looked down at your feet, fidgeting nervously. “No, but—”

“But nothing!” Wade suddenly whipped his phone out of a pocket and started furiously typing. “This calls for something big, something dramatic…”

You frowned, completely confused as you watched him fiddle with his phone. “Wade, what are you—?”

Before you could finish your sentence, the sound of a familiar tune began to blare from a nearby rooftop speaker. You blinked in shock as the opening notes of "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" filled the alleyway, echoing off the walls.

Wade tossed his phone aside, whipped off his mask to reveal his scarred face, and in one swift movement, pulled out a microphone from seemingly nowhere. Then he began to sing. Loudly.

“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

Your jaw dropped as Wade belted out the lyrics, pointing directly at you with exaggerated hand gestures. It was so over the top, so him, and yet… your heart started to race.

“You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…”

As he continued, Wade leaped onto a nearby trash can, balancing precariously as he serenaded you. His voice, though not perfect, was filled with emotion—raw, honest, and utterly ridiculous.

The few people passing by stopped to watch, some even pulling out their phones to record this bizarre spectacle. But Wade didn’t care. He was focused on you and only you.

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby…”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as Wade jumped down from his makeshift stage, slowly approaching you with each line of the song. The grin on his face was wide and sincere, and despite the absurdity of it all, you could see the truth in his eyes.

“Trust in me when I say…” he crooned, his voice softening as he came to a stop right in front of you.

When the song finally ended, the alley was silent except for the sound of your breathing. Wade was staring at you with such intensity that it felt like he was peering into your soul.

“I’m not some shiny, perfect superhero,” Wade said, breaking the silence, his voice uncharacteristically tender. “I’m a mess, inside and out. But you… you’re amazing just the way you are. I’ve been in love with you since… well, since I can remember, and nothing anyone says is gonna change that.”

You blinked back tears, feeling overwhelmed. “But Wade, I’m not…”

“Not what? A supermodel?” Wade interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Please. Those people have nothing on you. You’re gorgeous, funny, and you can kick serious butt. What more could a guy like me ask for?”

You let out a shaky laugh, feeling the weight on your chest begin to lift. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s part of my charm, baby,” Wade replied with a wink, slipping his mask back on. “So, what do you say? Let’s stop running and start snuggling. I promise I’m worth the risk.”

You didn’t need to think twice. With a smile, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Wade, pulling him into a tight hug. He returned the embrace with equal fervor, his gloved hands resting gently on your back.

“I’m not going anywhere, Wade,” you whispered against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and sure beneath your ear.

“Good,” he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Because neither am I.”

[junk-culture]

chief whats the appeal of withnail and i... i kinda thought it sucked ://

THAT'S OKAY.... you don't have to like it..Each To Their Own.... ❤️ and i do think withnail & i is a very specific acquired taste. if the comedy isn't your kind of comedy or it just doesn't resonate that's fine lol. (and ik some people find the 'predatory gay man' trope in uncle monty's character a bit too much which is fine lol.)

i don't wanna try to change your mind about it because it's totally fine if you don't like it but also i would quite like to ramble about why i like it for 200 paragraphs if that's okay.

i do think withnail & i is something you probably have to watch at the right time, like mentally. like i first watched it when i was bored unemployed stagnating rotting in my small town flop era and so naturally it Resonated. i was literally drifting into the arena of the unwell. making an enemy of my own future etc. and it made me feel worse. it truly is a feel-bad film basically. but i don't mean that as a criticism i mean that's part of its appeal.

also i guess just that type of comedy appeals to me. i like nasty putrid absurd stupid but intelligently written black comedies. and i think richard e and the eighth doctor are very good in this film. like partly it is just a classic quotable comedy to me. and that's a subjective thing obviously. one man's cult classic is another man's it sucked. i learned recently that richard e was and is a teetotal which is pretty awesome considering how grotesquely high and unhealthy he managed to look.

obviously i can't neglect to mention the doomed yaoi though. that's certainly part of its appeal epecially on tumblr the doomed yaoi website. but it's like an absolutely wretched putrid ugly tobacco stained disgusting fried egg flavour of doomed yaoi. which is quite refreshing in my opinion.

but also just the character of withnail is so good. like he's insane and terrible but also extremely sad and someone to be sympathised with. i rewatched the film recently (lol) and what got me was how like. gracious he is about marwood's success. like the main tragedy of the film is marwood finally managing to break out of their mutually assured self destructive mess of bad habits but to do that he has to leave withnail behind. and it's heartbreaking to see withnail get left behind etc. but it's the way withnail for all his ranting and raving never like. openly begrudges marwood for his success like he always puts on a brave face and congratulates him, despite all the despair and bitterness he obviously feels internally. and he tries to "make time" drink driving back to london so marwood can make it back quickly for his audition and it's like </3 .especially because like. in the film we don't even know if marwood is Good at acting. at the end of the film when withnail does his hamlet speech it's like ohhh. he wasn't just a self-important dreamer with delusions of grandeur he can actually act. but it's marwood who gets the luck. and there's nothing really to suggest that he's a better actor than withnail or "deserves" it more. just a simple case of some people make it some don't. some escape the cycle some just stay and rot. idk man.

plus the fact that the film is partly autobiographical/partly based on someone bruce robinson knew? like it's coming from the heart basically.

also i think it is pretty well-shot/good looking as a film? i love the scenes in the countryside, withnail standing on the rock shouting into the misty void etc but also the beautifully pungent and detailed interiors of their flat.

(also, people say that withnail & i is a very specifically british film so i guess that's probably why it works for some and not others. both in terms of the humour and in terms of the subject matter i.e. the end of an era 60s was shit the 70s will be shitter everything's incredibly shit vibe. plus the specifics of monty and the dying breed of upper class twit he represents i guess and withnail's specific brand of oxford educated repressed homosexualism or what the fuck ever.)

idk it's hard to articulate exactly what the appeal of the film is and why i've watched it like 4 times but basically it's just funny and tragic in a way that i Get. joker voice you had to be there you wouldn't get it etc. if the ending theme with withnail walking off in the rain accompanied by his insanely sad clown music doesn't get to you then that's fine, i guess it's just not the movie for you. but me personally i <3 it :)

[miradelletarot]

Writing prompt - it’s been six months since Gale and Tav’s wedding. He surprises her with a super romantic vacation for their honeymoon.

I hope this is to your liking, dearest Anon. I...may or may not have spent the last couple days researching different places (and asking my DM friends for suggestions for a romantic getaway lol). Notes: SFW, GN (I went with a gn, reader-insert to try and challenge my writing a bit. I hope that's ok!) Anything is possible when your husband is a wizard who can teleport you anywhere, and please don't be angy if I messed up any tenses, grammar or anything else. No beta.

I wanted to focus on the actual "surprise" aspect of the prompt where Gale presents his gift to Tav. I had originally started writing out an idea for him to be like "hey, let's go out babe i wanna show you something cool!" and then teleports them to the dream destination, but my brain went way too far in the weeds with lore and accuracy that the story was getting lost. So, hopefully, this little nugget is satisfactory. Thank you so much for the ask! This was a fun one for my D&D loving brain ^^ (drabble below the cut! all sfw) <3

Gale was always one to shower you with affection. It didn’t matter if it was in the form of kisses, hugs, a home cooked meal, or something more. The more he could do for you, the more he could worship you, the better. There was never a time when he didn't want to give you more.

“My love,” he purrs warmly as he greets you on the terrace, “I have something exciting to share with you, and I think you’re going to love it.” The way his face beams brighter than the evening sun fills you with intense adoration. You wouldn’t want to go a single day without seeing that gorgeous smile of his.

You set your book down on the small side table next to your coffee, and take his hand in yours. “Well now, my darling husband, what tales will you regale me with today?” You smile, assuming he has yet another piece of history or magic to share with you that he’s discovered in his vast collection of books. “No tales, dearest. I have requested some time away from Blackstaff.” Your eyes widen, and concern fills your gaze.

“Darling, I’m confused. I thought you loved teaching? Is something wrong?” “No, no. Nothing’s wrong.” He flashed a rueful smile realizing that in trying to build up your anticipation, he only made you worry. “I have noticed that between my teaching, and seemingly endless research, I haven’t made as much time for you as I should.” His face fell as he lowered his gaze to your intertwined hands, and gave your hands a gentle squeeze. “I promised you I would balance my time with you, and…well…needless to say I have done an abysmal job at giving you the attention you deserve.” Gale cupped your cheek in his hand. “Will you let me make it up to you, dearest?” You smile, shaking your head slightly at how absurd he was. “Love, you don’t owe me anything. I know how important your research is…and you have never left me wanting. I promise." You lean in and give him a small kiss on his forehead, and he melts into your delicate touch. “Now…what’s this about taking time away from Blackstaff?” “Ah! Of course!” He straightens up, his gaze bright once again. “You. Me. Three tendays of blissful relaxation in a most beautiful, and mysterious locale.” With your curiosity piqued, you can hardly contain the excitement in your eyes. “Really?? Where?” “Myth Drannor. A picturesque, elven city with a rich history and a mild climate, nestled within the forest of Cormanthyr. There’s plenty to do if you wish to explore, but if not, then the serenity in which we will find ourselves surrounded by will no doubt allow us the relaxation you deserve. Regardless, I want to share it all with you. It’s the honeymoon you deserve after our harrowing adventure.” “Oh, Gale!” You throw your arms around him and squeeze him tight, showering him with kisses all over his face…when you dared to release your hold on him at least. “But, darling…that’s so much time away. Are you sure? You wanted nothing more than to be back home.”

His gaze softened as he pulled you close, nuzzling your cheek. “Home,” he whispered, “is wherever you are, my love.” Your eyes sparkled, and your heart felt like it could burst. The lengths this man would go to for you were immeasurable, and you wondered how in Toril you got so lucky. "Now," he roused you from your wayward thoughts of adoration, "the sooner we pack for our little getaway, the sooner we can leave." He gave you that lazy smirk and smoldering gaze that makes you swoon. "I don't want to waste a single moment, my love." "Well...perhaps you'll join me for one last Waterdhavian sunset before we go?" "Whatever you desire, dearest." He smiles as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"My time is yours."