#why did i have to latch onto those two for some reason

[shroommush]

PARADOXCICLE CHAPTER 22 SPOILERS UNDER CUT !!

An extra Robert and mr cycle drawing for the soul 🙏

Genuinely a bit obsessed with these two, please does anyone else understand 😭 i need them to sit in a grassy field together and vent each others traumas, i think theyd benefit from that.

Btw, (paradoxcicle by @blipple-is-confused) the author of the fic always reblogs my art and says nice things about it and im always too awkward to reblog and thank them, so ill just say now, thank you :] your fic is awsome! i know how cool the feeling is whenever people draw fanart of your story, so i will NEVER stop drawing fanart as long as this fic keeps going, because it DESERVES THE HYPE!!!

Side note mr cycle and robert deserve the world.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[rotisseries]

the phenomenon where people will take friend groups/found families in fiction and try to confine them to very specific familial roles/dynamics and all that is so funny cause TO ME the best friend groups are ones where it's almost a polycule

[innocent-artery]

Trial and Error

1.6k words

Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

Part One - Part Two

~

One hour.

It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.

Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.

So why couldn't you orgasm?

In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.

And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.

And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.

You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.

The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.

Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.

You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.

"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.

"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.

At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"

You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."

You froze.

He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.

"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."

"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.

"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."

Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"

You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.

"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."

When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.

"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."

Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."

Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.

Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."

You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."

"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."

You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.

When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.

Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.

A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.

Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.

"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.

The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.

It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.

"Good, good." Eddie murmured.

"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.

"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."

Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.

When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.

"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."

~

@lovinvane

Part One - Part Two

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[calypsocolada]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | g. tomioka

(this is part two! click here for part one)

synopsis: you left without saying goodbye, giyu needs to know why... author's note: hellllooooo. the reaction to part one of this story was incredible. i cannot thank any of you enough for your kind words seriously. this one is for all of you <3 (psst... to all the swifites, if you can point out two other song references besides rwylm you get a gold star) cw: ANGST (lol like there wasn't enough in the first part), blood, gore, spoilers about rengoku, HAPPY ENDING, not proofread wc: 4.2k

click here for my masterlist

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There was nothing more frustrating than lack of communication. As much as he wished he could read your mind, as much as he begged and pleaded to deaf ears you were just one hard shell to fully crack open. Though Giyu supposed he was probably the same. But at least he was making an effort. He thought you’d make one too. 

But as Giyu sat cross legged at a Hashira meeting he could meet all their eyes but yours. You didn’t spare him a glance like you spared him your time those few weeks ago. Almost a month and a half now and for some reason Giyu couldn’t stop counting the days, the hours and minutes. 

45 days since you knocked at his door. 

1,080 hours since you grabbed him, your cheeks wet as you pressed your lips to his. 

64,800 minutes since Giyu woke up in the morning to an empty bed. 

It never got easier. Each day was like this stabbing pain in his chest. A persistent feeling of desertion. He’d thought things had changed since that night. The night you cried and cried and kissed and kissed. 

He wrote you letter after letter but no response. Now here you were in the same room, in a room filled with others but Giyu only felt your presence. Like a heightened sense that haunted him so stunningly that he wondered if your lack of attention would actually kill him. As if he overdosed on it once and now he’d never be able to wean himself off you.  

You were so close, only maybe three feet from him but you felt worlds away. Could he have done something wrong? Showed too many of his cards too soon? Scared you off? Sure you reciprocated his kisses, in fact you were the initiator. But when it came to a verbal confession there was nothing for Giyu to latch onto. No words, just your actions. But your actions betrayed you. You treated him as if that night never even happened. For 45 days. It was like torture. To want something so badly, to have it for a fleeting moment then lose it. Giyu was losing it.  

“Mr. Tomioka?” Your voice was like a shot of ice through his veins. Giyu blinked the fogginess from his brain and cleared his throat. Your attention was on him. The room is empty. Giyu hadn’t noticed the meeting had ended. Didn’t notice everyone leaving. 

“Hmm?” He forced out, his eyes sliding to yours. Mr. Tomioka? Even before everything you called him Giyu. But now… you addressed him as though he was some stranger. A room alone, a room with you. He could say what was on his mind finally. 

“Did you pay attention in the meeting?” You asked. Giyu stared at you. You were looking at him. After 45 days of starving for your attention he found himself unable to act normally with it on him now. 

“Hmm…? Oh! Uh— yes…” Giyu stuttered out, feeling hopelessly useless. Feeling utterly ridiculous. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said coldly, turning to leave. 

“Wait-“ Giyu stepped forwards. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? A talk? An explanation for your icy treatment? You turned, threw him a look over your shoulder. It was like you read his confusion. As if you knew he paid zero attention in the meeting. 

“The training grounds near your house. We’ll meet at sunrise.” You said and then your eyes lingered a second before you turned and left. Giyu found himself stuck still even a couple minutes after you left. Like his legs had forgotten their purpose. In fact, those 45 days he’d been right where you left him. A hopeless, nearly broken man. Stuck back in the time he had you. Haunting his house and his training grounds and everywhere he stood. You seemed to have moved on, seemed to maybe have even forgotten about the fleeting moment. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting moment? Maybe even a severe lapse of judgment? Something like that couldn’t have been a declaration of love. Giyu could and had been thinking himself in circles. He wished he said more. Wished he said less. Ran through everything over and over. Replayed it so often the record was starting to skip.    

Giyu tossed and turned all night. He didn’t sleep even a wink. You wanted to talk. Maybe explain things. Giyu knew whatever it was that kept you so far from him he was willing to work through to find a solution. He was willing to crumble your walls. Or wait. If you’d just verbally ask him to wait he’d pause his life forever for you. He’d become a ghost. Time could come and go on for everybody else but he’d wait diligently for you. He’d wait like the moon and chase after you like the sun. If only you’d just give him a damn reason. 

Giyu turned, the moon shining through a crack in his curtains. His eyes drifted to the empty spaces beside him. The same space he’d left empty since you vacated it. With splayed fingers he touched the spot of his bed and willed himself to remember that night. As if he’d ever forget it in the first place. He was restless so he moved out of bed and to his desk. He pulled out a few letters. Some from Rengoku and some from Kagaya. Both with the same topic. Giyus favorite topic. You. 

Giyu carefully slid open the first letter he ever received from Rengoku. He felt a pang just merely looking at the older man’s handwriting. All jagged and loud. He smiled as he reread its contents. 

-

Good morning Mr. Tomioka!

I was shocked to see you had written to me but pleasantly surprised! I am doing well, how’re you? I heard you are well on your way to becoming the next water hashira! How exciting! I know we’ve only met a few times but you have the demeanor of a water hashira. You seem cool and collected! You have a calm voice and although it’s hard to hear you sometimes I still appreciated our talks! About your interest in my tsuguko; she is doing well. She is very fiery. I could see her becoming the next fire Hashira. She sort of reminds me of you in the way she speaks. Though sometimes I can get her to raise her voice and it’s quite adorable. It would be lovely if you visited her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again after you saved her life. But if you’re too busy that is fine, I can always just write you with updates about her. Maybe I can even try and get her to write you a letter sometime! Anyways, Mr. Tomioka, hope this letter finds you well! 

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

-

Giyu laughed at the ink splotch on the paper next to Rengoku’s name. It was a common theme in his letters. Probably wrote sort of hard. Giyu carefully closed the letter and opened the last letter Rengoku ever wrote. 

-

Good morning Mr. Tomioka! 

Congratulations on becoming the water Hashira! The other hashira’s seemed sort of bummed you weren’t able to make it to the little celebration but I knew that kind of thing just isn’t your style so I decided to write you this letter instead. I knew you had a fiery streak somewhere in you! We all do! I have a mission coming up and saw that you have one too! I would like for you to let my tsuguko accompany you on your mission! I think she could use a bit of quiet in her life. She’s always go go go! Just like me! But I think you two could get along very very well, Mr. Tomioka! I think she thinks of you fondly. I once asked her about the boy who saved her and I am pretty sure she blushed! Ha-ha! Don’t be disheartened by her cold attitude, as long as she doesn’t verbally attack you that means you might be in her good graces! She’s come a long way, I see sparks of softness in her that I hope you’ll appreciate. She loves miso soup and sweet potatoes, she gets it from me! She loves to read and can’t get enough of the ocean so be sure after your mission to take her swimming. It could be a date! You think I don’t know why you often write asking me about her, right? I’ll pretend I don’t! She’s not much of a talker like you but she listens and remembers everything you say. That mind’s like a steel trap! Please take care of her and I’ll tell her to play nice though I’m not sure she knows how to! Ha-ha! Only kidding. Be safe, Mr. Tomioka and good luck on your first mission as a Hashira! 

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

-

Giyu still blushes as he reads the letter. Rengoku knew Giyu’s intentions even though he was sure he was being discreet. He carefully folded the letter back up and as he did a hint of the rising sun peaked its way through his curtains. He sprung up from his seat. He couldn’t be late in meeting with you so he hurriedly got dressed and tumbled his way out of his home. He rounded the corner to the training field and stopped dead in his tracks. 

You were there. 

You were actually there. 

Your sword clutched tightly in your hand as you swung it to and fro, practicing against a ghostly opponent. Giyu watched you. He blinked for a moment and saw Rengoku, in the way you swung your sword, the way you moved, the way your haori flew behind you, like flames licking the air. Rengoku taught you everything you knew and you applied his fighting style with grace and ease. Giyu honestly had never seen you in a battle. And his breath halted as he watched the confidence in your demeanor. Watched the sure way you’d swing, the velocity and speed. The preciseness. You were definitely Rengoku’s tsuguko. In fact, maybe you were even more than that. Almost like his shadow, his predecessor. And you held that title with grace. Giyu almost felt choked up knowing damn well Rengoku was more than proud of you. 

“Just gonna stand there all day?” You asked, your swing coming through to slice clean through a practice dummy. One half falling to the dirt, kicking up dust. Giyu found himself unable to speak once again as you turned. That attention too much to bear. You hiked up your brow and pointed your sword in his direction. “Well, are you ready to spar?”

“Spar?” Giyu echoed as you nodded your head, walking like a predator towards him.

“Where’s your sword?”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Why else would I be?” You asked, eyes daring him to mention things you clearly wanted to forget. Giyu blinked through the breaking of his heart. He’d never felt pain like this. Never knew someone could ignite such warmth then douse it in icy cold water. He never thought you of all people would stab him clean through. Giyu turned just as his emotions were too much to hide. He walked and grabbed his sword, waited a moment to try and gather his composure before returning back a few feet from you. 

There was something in your eyes. He knew this sight was probably the last thing every single demon that had crossed you had seen for themselves. Eyes like fire, you morphed in front of his eyes into the flames that danced with your techniques. 

You took the first swing, your movement like the flickering. Your strikes felt hot, as if his skin would sear completely off. Giyu controlled his feelings, he pushed them to the side and met your violence of fire with the calmness of water. Metal clanged, and although you’d killed him moments ago with your words you brought him straight back to life with the way you fought. You’d found yet another thing for him to fall in love with. 

Damn you. 

After several minutes passed and one final swing you both stepped back. It was clear it was a draw. Not a single time did someone pull ahead and leave the other in the dust. Each strike was met with an equal block. You two were an equal match. For a moment you two just stared at each other, dripping in sweat, the sun and heat finally rising. You reached up and wiped your forehead with the back of your arm and sighed.

“So it’s a draw.” You said and Giyu nodded his head. A silent moment passed before you pulled your eyes from his and walked to your stuff. Giyu watched. Watched you pack up your things and give a halfhearted wave to him as you walked back towards the road.

“That’s it?” Giyu called out suddenly. He swore he saw you flinch.

“Either Obanai or Shinazugawa will be here tomorrow for the same match.” You called over your shoulder. The cold shoulder you’d given him for so long. 46 days now. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Giyu took a step but you resumed walking. “What did I do?”

“Have a good day, Mr. Tomioka.” You said and the moment you were out of sight Giyu tore off after you. 

-

46 days ago you’d been laying next to Giyu Tomioka. You’d woke up early and in the morning light you could see his face again. He looked at peace as he slept beside you, his arms around you, his breathing light. You reached across the small expanse between you two and tucked his raven black hair out of his face. Giyu moved barely in his sleep and you yanked your hand away, shy as though he’d catch you admiring him. As though you hadn’t just spent the night together. Once he settled you gazed at him. Something, you knew what it was now, bloomed in your chest. Was this something you could truly have? To kill demons and go home to someone like him at the end of the day? Home… what would that even be like? What would that even look like for you? Slowly you sat up in his bed, covers falling from your shoulders, pooling at your torso. 

Everyone you had ever loved died horribly. You felt as though a curse was placed upon you. Penance for the deaths of your family.

Ever since Rengoku had died there was this thought that haunted you. A sort of prophecy you felt had cursed your very being. No matter how many times you thought about leaving Rengoku there was no way to ever go back and board that train with him. No way to deny his request and maybe even save his life. Would you have been useful or would you have been a hindrance? Would your presence have even changed a thing or were you just destined to love and lose? Your eyes flicked to Giyu, face barely illuminated by the sun rising. 

If you stayed in this bed would you watch him die as well? Just the thought made you physically sick to the stomach. You felt like a kid stuffed into a hiding place all over again. A helpless, useless kid.

If you let yourself love him and be with him, the pain of losing him might actually do you in for good. And if you left right now… would that save his life from the curse placed upon you? 

Turns out you're quite self sabotaging after all. And by morning you slipped out of his house, tearing back towards the inn, running with your tail between your legs.

-

“Do I not deserve an explanation?” Giyu called out to you, you'd almost made it to the end of his house. You paused, turning.

“Leave it.” You answered lethargically. 

“Did you even read my letters?”

“What letters?” You asked and when your eyes found his face the utter pain on it made your stomach drop. 

“I wrote to you… many times. Your crow should’ve delivered it to you.” Giyu explained, his face utterly disheartened. You glanced at your crow, who’d been curiously pecking at some bugs in the distance.

“I never received them.” You answered and clenched your jaw. You deserved to see him hurt. The pain you caused him was something you wouldn’t let yourself look away from this time. Giyu haori swayed slightly in the wind, he couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Tell me what to do.” Giyu says and you blink at him, your brows furrowing. 

“What?”

“I’ll wait. I’ll let dust collect over my life until you wish to have me back.” 

“I don't want that.” You said with a start. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself back into some composure. “I want you… to… go on ahead.” Slowly Giyu raises his eyes to meet yours. 

“What do you mean?”

“I could never feel the same way you feel for me. So I want you to move on.” You said and kept your eyes glued to him as you said it. You didn’t let one smallest ounce of pain show on your face.

“Why?”

 “Because I’m not worth dying over.”

“I’m not worth dying over, Master!” You screamed, pain coursing through you. You watched Rengoku surpass his limits, a demon pushing him far past them. The same demon that had gotten the jump on you moments ago. The man couldn’t hear you. You stumbled forwards, blood dripping from a wound somewhere on your head, the blood getting in your eyes. You stumbled, losing your footing, your sword clattering against the stones out of your grip. “Rengoku, please! Run while you still can!” You screamed, coughing up blood as you crawled towards the fight. Your breathing labored, black ink splotched in your vision. Take me! You thought hopelessly, take me and not him! 

“Y/n? Come on, kid, wake up.” You blinked awake. Your entire body ached, drowsiness threatening to take hold of you. Where were you just now? You must’ve passed out from the pain. “Ah, there she is.” A blurry redness kneeled beside you as you blinked until you could see properly. “You’re awake.”

“Master?” You coughed as Rengoku smiled down at you. 

“Tough battle, huh? You did great out there kid.” Rengoku said proudly. “You mastered a few of those moves I taught you, it was incredible.” He recounts.

“I-- lost.”

“Hush now. That demon was even tough for me to kill. You did the best you could.” He says reaching for you, ruffling your hair.

“Y-you almost died,” You choked out, Rengoku’s hand paused on your head. “I-- Master I don’t ever want to be a burden to you.”

“You are no such thing.” Rengoku admonishes, giving your cheek a sharp and playfully pinch. You gasp in surprise, rubbing your cheek. “You think too dark sometimes, kid.”

“But-- Master… I’m not worth dying over.” You say, looking down. Rengoku grabs you by the chin.

“You don’t get to decide that. I do. And I decided that you’re worth saving.” He looks at you intensely to get his point across. You part your lips to argue but slowly close them. “Now enough of this, we won, let’s celebrate!”

“What do you mean?” Giyu walks closer to you, his voice has an edge to it. A worried and sharp edge. “Are you unsafe?”

“That’s not…” You trail off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Mr. Tomioka-”

“Don’t. Please don’t call me that.” Giyu lamented, his expression pained. 

“You’d be wise to just move on.”

“I can’t. I won’t”

“You can, you should.” You growled. This reminded you so heavily of the night you stormed out of his house and you two fought in the road. You were pretty sure this was almost the exact same place. You gave an inch that night but you were trying desperately to take it back. No matter how much this hurt it would hurt even more if your curse killed him. You had to remind yourself of that. Of the thing that possessed your life. 

“Give me a reason.”

“My past should be reason enough for you.”

“What do you mean? Speak it plainly for me.”

“It’s obvious. I’m fucking cursed, Giyu!” You hadn’t expected it but ever since that night you cried you couldn’t stop. Every little thing made you cry now it was annoying. You cried when you left Giyu in the morning. Cried in your inn. Cried when you arrived back at your empty house, the taste of miso soup and potatoes wrecking your senses. Years and years of it being stored up and the dam broke. You felt like a little kid but there was no way around it. Maybe if you tried being truthful Giyu would leave. “I hid while my family died and because of it I’m cursed. I thought I could move on. Rengoku was like family to me. I let him in. I trusted him. I loved him. I let my guard down and my curse took him. And I-- I won’t let it take you okay so just do me this favor and let whatever you feel for me die.” You forced your eyes to his. Angrily wiped the tears from off  your face and looked at him intensely. “I am begging you.” Giyu looked at you, his eyes scanning your face. He walked and walked forwards until he was directly in front of you. His hands reached out, ever so gently sliding over either side of your jaw, his thumbs wiping the tears from your face. Deja vu gripped you so intensely. He’d done this same thing before. He leaned close, so close your breath hitched in anticipation of a kiss. But he stopped, mere centimeters away.

“You are not cursed.” He lets his words sink in. His eyes staring ardently into yours. Your breathing stopped, like you’d forgotten how. That dangerous beat of your heart started up again. There’s something to be said about someone that will tear themselves apart just to keep away from the one thing that could make them happy. You were the biggest component of that. It was like you craved hurting yourself. Craved punishment for crimes you never committed. Giyu pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You didn’t kill your parents and you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” His whispers as you pull back slightly, looking as though you’d been slapped. He knew it. Giyu knew you. You looked away but he forced your attention back to him. “They saved you because they loved you. You were a child. There’s no sin in that.” He presses another kiss to your face. You should back up. You needed to back up. You… you couldn’t. Giyu’s arms slide around you and you're pulled against his chest in a tight hug. “Rengoku didn’t die because he loved you, he died saving a world that had you in it.” There were the damn tears again. You closed your eyes as they sting you. “You don’t get to choose who loves you and it’s unfair to make decisions for them.” 

Rengoku’s words rang in your head.

You don’t get to decide that.

“I… I won’t make it if I lose you.” 

“Don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, look at me.” Giyu pulls back, you tilt your face up, eyes meeting his. “If you don’t want to lose me then fight for me, stop running, I’m begging you.” You looked up at him. There was no point in trying to build walls, not when Giyu always knew a way around them. You spent a long time in your own head. For once… you decided to let someone else make the calls. If even your most self destructive ways didn’t scare him off then it’s obvious that no matter what you did you couldn’t scare him off. 

“Alright.” You intoned softly. The utter hope on Giyu’s face was quick to show. “I’ll stop running.” 

“Promise me this time. Promise I won’t wake up and you're gone.”

“I’m sorry. You deserved better.” You breathed out, guilty.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” He says fondly. You shake your head, eyes rolling.

“You forgive too easily.” Giyu kissed you then. No warning. Just pure want. It was the kiss of someone who’d been counting the seconds you’d been gone. Sickly sweet. Of course he’d forgive you quickly. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “Give me your word. That you’ll give us a try.”

“I promise.” You say without hesitation. 

Giyu kissed you again, this time slowly, passionately. He tangled his hands in your hair and you melted. He was going to be the death of you. Though you supposed you shouldn’t think that way. You could settle on him being your near death experience then.

-

When the morning dawned and Giyu opened his eyes for a moment his bed felt empty. He rolled his head to the side and when his eyes fell upon you there was nothing in this world that could’ve been a better sight. He reached and softly tucked your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his eyes fall back closed, knowing damn well when he woke up again you’d be beside him.

bonus: giyu's letters

-

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to only beg for a moment of your time. If you regret what happened days ago then don't spare me your kindness. I long to know what you think. What you really think.

Please meet me at the training yard in two days time.

Giyu

-

Dear Y/n,

How're you today? I do not wish to bother you, I just need you to know that I care. We can forget whatever you want. I will pretend away the feelings I have if you want. Whatever you want it is yours. Just please write me back.

Giyu  

-

Dear Y/n,

I would like to speak plainly for once. I love you. You don't ever have to say it back, I just want you to know. That's all. I will stop bugging you because you do not owe me a thing. I hope you are well. If you need anything don't hesitate to reach out. I can be a friend. I can be whatever you want. Please take care of yourself.

With love, Giyu

-

[evilminji]

Ya'll know our BELOVED? Little Baby Man?

The noodliest ghosty boy?

What if he WAS Baby? It wouldn't be the first time Danny's enemies plotting gave him offspring. Only this time it's not a clone! It's a proper GHOST baby. Like Lunch Box.

Who's the other parent I hear you ask?

Pretty human-centric view point there buddy, to assume Ghosts NEED two participants to make an offspring. OR are limited to two! Just cause Lunch Lady And Boxie are a couple doesn't mean that's the standard!

We lack data here! ASSUME NOTHING. *sciences harder in your direction*

*awkward cough*

*shuffles notes*

ANYWAY! The child! All it would really take is one(1) VERY poorly timed ambush attack. Imagine if you will, a cell. How does it multiply? While not even close, the simplistic images ARE pretty good as an explanation!

But isn't that just an ecto-clone? You say?

Close!

But THOSE? Are hollow bags of GOO!

No CORE! *slaps the chalkboard behind me*

However! If you wanted, say, a precious bundle off joy? Well, nothing can come from perfect void! You must contribute the building blocks of LIFE! And what are those, my students, in ghost biology??!

Two vital pieces! The Ectoplasm aaaaaaand? That's RIGHT!

The CORE!

A critical and ever vital part of ghost biological function.

Which, like every OTHER part of the body, is malleable. One could, say, make it smaller. Create part of a proto core. OR, should one be ALONE in this process, a FULL protocol.

Upon which, ectoplasm latches, builds, develops and grows. Becomes its own soul.

Now! Do Not mistake me! There is a WILDLY vast difference between the formation of a core and a shattered core. Between willing life and untimely second death. It is not, and never WILL be, easy to create the soul of a child. Tampering with your core is PAINFUL, dangerous, and leaves you WILDLY vulnerable.

There is a REASON Neverborn are so precious.

Buuuuut..... *pulls out a book labeled "Curses Though The Ages"* we must ALSO consider the famed Fenton Luck(tm).

Consider! Where would be the "safest" place to practice making clones of yourself? A place that's wide open. No one wearing white likely to take pot shots at you while your attention is divided in multiple places at once. No parents blowing up the basement at a delicate moment and leaving you trying to hide that extra arm for a week...

Maybe you forget... oh yeah... OTHER GHOSTS.

So there Danny floats. In the Zone. DISTRACTED. His core HUGE from all that recently Royal business as it tries to digest it. Feeling bloated. Trying to work off some energy, as it were. Then who should come along? Why, the universes BEST HUNTER of course! To say *gun powering up noise* :) HI :)

Like buddies DO.

Danny doesn't see him.

Danny is mid-split.

At his limit, honestly. Already made as many copies as he usually can. Is trying for ooooone moooooore..... when...

PAIN. Something cracks.

He loses concentration. Tries to curl in on himself.

Both 1.5 of him tries. He loses hold of the "clone's" Ecto. Somethings free floating leaving his chest along with it. Behind him, Skulker is freaking out. That was MEANT to be on opening volley. A gentle little "hey, come fight me". That crack sounded SERIOUS.

Danny can't breathe. It's like the portal all over again. He curls tighter and tighter. Feels the crown, which was not THERE until this moment, press down tight and gripping onto his head. Thrumming. And then... something feels like a muscle releasing.

His core is... smaller? He'd been watching its progress, it couldn't have digest so fast... how did it lose so much... mass...

Danny feels all the blood drain from his face.

He nearly died.

Again.

His... his soul... WHERE IS HIS SOUL?? That's a piece of him! A part of his SOU-!

He spins around... only to meet the eyes off a blearly blinking, noodlish, cartoon like gremlin with his color scheme. Who's floating along like they're in zero-g. Just... drifting in a slow circle.

They yawn at him with a mouth full of teeny tiny baby fangs. Then chirp.

That's his Son. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know WHY, but he somehow instinctively... just... KNOWS?

They blep.

Danny looks a Skulker. His eyes hold MURDER.

"You're paying child support."

"......yes sir."

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

[buskingalbatross]

results of a quest to identify the cicada in dnp’s rodent boy summer instagram post

[video: an audio comparison of dan howell's mediterranean cicada imitation and two real cicada species from the med]

abstract: following a perceived dearth of interest in the cicada latched onto the wall in one photo of the ten in dan and phil’s most recent joint vacation instagram post, the authors of this post (buskingalbatross and an anon who instigated this quest) have endeavored to determine its identity at the species level. using resources such as naturalism networking site iNaturalist, various scientific research articles, a databank of Mediterranean cicada song audio files, and Dan’s imitation of cicada screams in the AmazingPhil video “How Phil Nearly Died,” we have concluded that the cicada is most likely an East Aegean cicada (Cicada mordoganensis). obtaining these results would have been impossible had we not received assistance from @/bitchslapblastoids, who generously provided the herein unnamed geographical location* of dan and phil’s summer rat and relaxation destination. I would also like to thank @/pierogish for providing feedback on comparisons of cicada audio files with Dan’s cicada noises.

[image: the individual in question]

methods, results, and conclusions below the cut.

*the authors of this tumblr post would like to flaunt their scientific achievements unencumbered by potential discourses surrounding the unearthing of this location, and thus have chosen to omit its name from this post. the authors of this tumblr post nevertheless understand that the location can be discerned by those curious enough to discern it. the authors moreover state that they harbor no wish to compromise dan and phil’s privacy.  

methods and results

iNaturalist’s search feature was used to gain an awareness of what species of cicadas have been observed on the mediterrranean peninsula where dnp went on holiday. a spreadsheet was created to organize data such as cicada common names, scientific names, the number of observations for any given species, the reliability of those observations (that is, how likely the observer was to have correctly identified a cicada; a high quality identification is referred to on iNat as a research grade ID), the period of time in which a species is the densest in numbers (most prevalent in its aboveground habitat), appearance, and, finally, a link to an audio file containing each cicada species’ song. audio files were the last piece of data to be acquired, and so were added to the spreadsheet very last.

once a list of species had been determined and entered into the spreadsheet, we compared the appearences of each candidate cicada species to dnp’s instagram image. all in all, we looked at seven cicada species: the black sorrow cicada (Cicadatra atra), the ash cicada (Cicada orni), the common cicada (Lyristes plebejus), the red cicada (Cicada haematodes), the east aegean cicada (Cicada mordoganensis), the geminate cicada (Lyristes gemellus), and Cicada lodosi (a species name now possibly defunct but with 4 observations in the area of interest in the past five years).

[images: left - the east aegean cicada; right - the ash cicada]

then, I decided to read a truly excessive number of scientific research papers about cicadas in the mediterranean. why did I do this? besides reasons of entomology-associated passion (and legitimate professional interest), I did it because I learned that it turns out that basically, the aegean sea constitutes a “hot spot of cicada diversity,” with numerous species across different genera that nevertheless look—pretty much all the same! quite quickly, it became apparent that one blurry instagram image would be insufficient to determine the species. in fact, even if the image had been crystal clear, it wouldn’t have mattered. apparently, many cicadas of the eastern mediterranean are not morphologically distinct (meaning, again: some of them look identical) and what differentiates them is actually, primarily, their songs. they are “acoustically divergent,” with females being able to locate males of their own kind by their unique calls alone, not their looks. different species also tend to be distributed differently across this region, by which I mean some are only found on certain islands, or in certain areas of Italy, the Balkans, Greece, or Turkey, or Greece and Turkey, etc etc. I needed to read to form a better picture of all of this, essentially, and to gather clues.

[image: some of the papers I read]

after perusing all of this fascinating literature—and also squinting really hard at dnp’s picture and the photos of cicadas we had accumulated—I came to the conclusion that, most likely, the cicada was either Cicada orni, the ash cicada, or potentially more likely, Cicada mordoganensis, the east aegean cicada. both had three observations recorded in the region of interest (the most observations of any species), and both had the most similar coloration and patterning to dnp’s cicada. my predilection for the east aegean choice stemmed from two things: 1. the east aegean cicada observations were of a higher quality (research grade) than the ash cicada, and 2. the papers I had read were telling me that while east aegeans were prevalent along the entirety of the our region of interest, ash cicadas were more constrained, geographically, to northern Turkey and the Greek mainland. in fact, according to mediterranean cicada scientists, no ash cicadas had ever been found on islands as southeast as Samos and Ikaria, two islands relatively close to the peninsula where dnp’s cicada resides. this contradicted the observations on iNaturalist.

apparently, this difference in distribution has a lot to do with the tectonic and geographical history of the eastern mediterranean. where certain cicadas are today has a lot to do with where warm refuges from ancient glaciers existed thousands and millions of years ago (cicadas like the heat). also, and I should not necessarily subject you to this tangent, but did you know that about 5 million years ago the mediterranean sea simply gave up on existence for a little while? ... during the Messinian Salinity Crisis, the mediterranean simply stopped being a sea for a little while and almost dried up completely, allowing certain creatures that could not otherwise traverse an entire sea to disperse across it, except for where there is a huge ass canyon in the seafloor, and—

[images: highlighted, pertinent sections of papers discussing cicada distribution; relief map of the mediterranean seafloor]

anyway, what we were sorely missing at this stage were sound recordings of the cicadas. despite the evidence against the ash cicada, this cicada is still one of the most commonly found cicadas around the aegean sea. also, some of the studies I found were ten or more years old—who knows how climate change or other factors may have impacted the location of cicada populations since they were published.

while the audio of the cicadas outside in Phil’s video is poor, Dan does an imitation at 00:30 of what they’d been hearing during their trip. knowing Dan, this imitation is not merely a made-up, vaguely cicada-like noise, but an actually good approximation of the song that had been driving them crazy (this whole study mayhaps hinges on this lmao). if only we could uncover audio of these cicadas, maybe we could know for sure if this insect was of the ash or east aegean variety.

thankfully, at this point I was still reading papers. even more thankfully, the ten individuals who seemed to have cornered the market on mediterranean cicada studies since the 1970s made a website, and mentioned it in one of their papers. it is an exceptional, beautifully designed website called cicadasong.eu that evokes the ad-free, uncluttered, cozy and homemade feeling of the early noughties internet. it almost made me cry, and @/pierogish reported that seeing this website made her realize that in all these years recently spent online she had been choking, and only on cicadasong.eu was she finally able to breathe freely. on this website, there happen to be embedded YouTube videos of high quality audio recordings of all the european cicadas its creators have ever studied.

at last! comparisons of cicada songs to Dan commenced, and we were able to play the ash cicada’s sound alongside the east aegean’s and Dan’s. at the top of this post, you will find the compilation of these three sounds. here are the links to the original audio videos of the east aegean and ash cicada.

the main unit of sound—the chirp—of a cicada’s song is known scientifically as an “echeme”. in these audio files, you can perceive that, for the east aegean cicada, the duration of the echeme is longer, meaning the number of echemes per second is lower. this rhythm, and in general the structure of the east aegean cicada’s song was, in comparison to the ash cicada’s, deemed to the ear of all the authors and contributors definitively more similar to dan’s cicada song. thus, this final piece of evidence seemed to complement the rest of our data and confirm our initial assumption of the cicada’s identity.

conclusion

accumulated data has lent support to our hypothesis that the cicadas suffusing the atmosphere of dip and pip’s holiday resort with their ebullient, lascivious songs were east aegean cicadas.

[bethanydelleman]

It bothers me so much that people latch onto this quote from Darcy but ignore the context around it:

“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?” “I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.” “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

This is the big proof that Darcy is shy/socially awkward/whatever. But there are two answers right there! Colonel Fitzwilliam has an explanation that makes Darcy look far worse: he is rude because he doesn't care to be polite.

Darcy likes Elizabeth, and while I'm sure he didn't outright lie because he's a radical truther, he definitely did not tell the whole truth! Because the girl he likes just called his behaviour "very dreadful" and he needs to make himself look better. And then we know what he says later when he feels actual remorse for his prior behaviour (which he does not feel at Rosings):

I was... allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.

Where is his problem with conversing now? It's nowhere, because that was never the real problem. I am sure that Darcy does not converse easily with others, because I don't think he lied, but that is not why he was an unsociable asshole at the Meryton Assembly. It's because he did not think the unwashed masses of Hertfordshire were worth him putting in the effort.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Mortality Defined

Masterlist Word count: 1.6 k Halsin x Reader Read on AO3

Summary: You are a human, Halsin is an elf. Your lifespan is much shorter than his and he wonders if life is worth living if you're not in it.

Writer's note: I don't know why but I still can't post a full work here. I don't know why. Tumblr just doesn't allow me to add any words to these one-shots. If anyone has any solutions for me, please let me know. I'm getting frustrated.

The year changes from sunlit beach days to a sunset of leaves. Halsin always admires this time of year. The dying of the world in anticipation for new life. It's a wonderful thing and something he often ponders on.  A year is an hour in the long, long lifespan of an elf. In Halsin's busy and chaotic life it feels more like a second, but these past weeks travelling with her and the other friends he made felt like centuries. She, so humble and kind, carried the world on her shoulders.  He feels he will never understand her fully. She is human. Where he has already lived 350 years, she will get a 100 if she's lucky. With their way of life, it will probably be less. A human's body dies around them every second of every day after they're done growing.  She was 27 when they embarked on their journey to safe Faerun, a young adult in human years. When he was 27 he was just latching off the helping hands of his parents. She told him she had been living on her own since she was 18.   Now she's 32 and has been living with him since the Absolute was put down. He can tell she's slowly ageing. She is forming some smile lines and little crows feet at the corners of her eyes. Halsin hadn't really thought about elderly people as his kind doesn't visibly age much after a certain point, but then he was confronted with Shadowheart's mother who looked so frail. It suddenly made him realize that she will someday look like that as well.  Even so, there's this thing that is only found in those that are human. The phenomenon of the Impenetrable Human Spirit. A death grip on life, refusal to let go in the direst of times. When all the odds are stacked against you but you refuse to let them define you. Which sounds strange until you meet a few humans in time of war. After he realized that, he understood why so many Flaming Fists are human.  He hopes he'll never have to witness it again but to see someone so fiercely cling onto life while any other would have already perished in the same circumstances is truly a sight. Humans are a force to be reckoned with. Even with their short lifespans, they try to put something worthwhile on this plane. They want to feel accomplished.  'Halsin, dinner's ready,' her angelic voice calls from inside and Halsin snaps out of his trance. 'Did you want to eat outside?' He looks over his shoulder through the open backdoor of their cosy little cottage, straight into the kitchen where she is plating up dinner. She's a wonderful cook, an amazing partner, and a great artist. His days are spent trying to find the best way to worship her being in hopes it'll buy her another year.  'That'd be lovely. Thank you.’ She walks out with two plates and a smile on her face. He takes his plate from her as she sits down on the grass next to him.  'You were so far away all day,' she notes with her smile still on her lips, 'where did your mind go?'  'My heart, you would not want to know.'  'Don't worry me, love. You can tell me.' Halsin takes a second to compose himself, playing with his food for a second. She always tells him everything, what reason does he have to keep his worries to himself? She'll understand. She always does.  'I was pondering your mortality.'  'How so?'  'Well, I have nothing but time, but that is not the same for you. I have lived over three centuries. That's three, maybe four, human lifetimes. You are merely a tenth of my age and yet you feel like an equal.' He looks over to her, a somber smile now plays on her lips.  'That's not all, is it?'  'It is not.'  'Are you worried you will be alone after I pass? That you won't have enough time to know me?'  'Something like that, yes.'  'Something like that?' 

Read the remainder on AO3

[trippingontheescalator]

Curious about the direction the HP fandom has gone

Okay, so as an old HP fan from way back when the books were first coming out, and then getting hit with the nostalgia and decided to return after years and years of not interacting with the fandom at all, the changes are truly mindboggling and I'd love to get to the bottom of some things.

Like, the disappearance of Blaise Zabini. Blaise was a fan favorite way back when we only knew his name but now I barely hear a whisper of his name. Now, the obvious answer is racism, which I think is the #1 reason why Blaise-pairings have dropped of significantly. Back then we all thought Blaise was a hot Italian girl, and then we found out he's a black man and suddenly people stop writing about him? Hm, yeah, seems the obvious answer (especially considering the popularity of other characters who are just a name on a page *cough*regulusblack*cough*).

Or the rise in Snape-hate. Like, Snape used to be the fan favorite. Everyone loved Snape. The meaner he was, the more we liked him. Being mean to children was a plus, not a negative lol. And this was back when we all thought he was a pureblood who came from a wealthy family like the Malfoys. Now by the time the 7th book came out I had pretty much moved on and so I didn't really see the fallout of readers discovering his actual background, so I don't know if his drop in popularity is classism and learning that he isn't a palette-swapped Lucius Malfoy or not, but honestly I would figure his impoverished background would be a plus in these times. Like Snape is obviously one of JKR's least favorite characters, and considering how she-who-must-not-be-named has destroyed her reputation with her increasing radicalization you'd figure the poor, abused, author-hating character would become more beloved instead of the rich, white, heteronormative bullies who barely even show up in the books. Like with our increasing knowledge of social injustice, I just don't understand why the fandom would want to latch onto the Marauders? And I just can't believe Snape's handful of snippets with Lily is the cause of his downfall (like what's there is barely enough to fill up a few pages, and there are certainly more toxic relationships in the series that are still beloved), or the fact that he was a Death Eater or that he inadvertently caused the deaths of the Potters (we already knew that in GoF and HPB respectively and he was still beloved, and this was when we assumed he didn't give a shit about the Potters or if they died when he went snitching). Draco is still popular. DRACO who doesn't give two shits about slinging around the word "mudblood," as opposed to Snape who actually changed for the better.

Am I just too old to understand? Is this like 90s fashion coming back in style (no, I won't do it again, I don't care if it's cringy I'm sticking with my millennial styles, I did the platforms and the slip dresses and the cargo pants in high school and I'm not putting myself through that again lol you gen z's can pry my comfortable mom jeans from my cold, dead fingers, I don't care if it makes me look old, that's the point, I AM old). Like, in addition to 90s fashion, has the 90s obsession with luxury athletic fashion like Lacoste come back in style? All those fashion ads of rich white people on yachts with popped collar polos? Are people starting to obsess over the Marauders because nouveau riche conspicuous consumption is coming back in style? It can't all just be young kids who have only read AtYD and have never actually opened one of the books, can it?

There also seems to be a trend of treating characters as if they're real people. I mean, we've always done it (Snape Wives, I'm looking at you), but now it almost feels as if the crimes characters commit are treated as if they're real crimes and that liking them is somehow a moral failing on the reader's fault. If you were to say "I don't like Snape, his douchy actions anger me, I'd rather skip all the parts he shows up in" I'd say, cool, I get that. That's normal. But "Snape is an abuser, a racist, and an incel and if you like him you're probably those things too" is fucking weird. Like, Harry and Hermione are not real children. Snape is not a real person. The things that happen in this book have as much influence on the real world as me imagining ninjas breaking into my workplace on a slow day. And that "media does not exist in a vacuum" pisses me off because it's blatantly misused. The pieces of media that have had serious consequences? Jaws, The Birth of a Nation. One resulted in the culling of sharks, the other helped restart the KKK. Do you know what those two pieces of media have in common? They're not about fucking wizards and magic schools. They instead paint a target on real groups. After twenty years nobody has ever tried to hurt a marginalized group of people because of a harry potter book (except for JKR herself).

Anyway, these are just some random thoughts, feel free to chime in with your own.

[franco-barbis-sweetness]

Guys, I was thinking about Franco and his life story and all of the things that probably happened to him when he was growing up and it genuinely just made me. Really sad ?? This dude wouldn't have been a monster if he didn't have to endure all of the things he did. He wasn't born that way, he was created :(

Like, just think about it. He had defects from birth that affected his appearance, which he was born sometime in the 1930's most likely, and I'm sure his appearance cast him out from society automatically. He was even disowned BY his own father for the way he looked.

His father apparently murdered his mother, and he must've had ENOUGH reason to believe it was his father who did it since he talks about it in his game dialogue. He may not have seen the body or anything but this probably caused some early childhood trauma straight off the bat. (The fact he had nobody to love or nuture him or read him bedtime stories makes me WEEP. He had nobody to be kind to him, to cook him breakfast, to tuck him in, to give him any love at all SOBBINGGGG)

His dad was literally the head of the Martino Crime family. So he grew up constantly surrounded by a life of crime. Blood, murder, violence, all while he was sooo young. All of those things are a horrific environment for a child, yet alone him having to watch his own FATHER being the ringleader of it all.

Salvatore was probably an avid and violent drunk, so I'm sure Franco was beat all of the time. He might have been exposed to some sort of SA from his father at some point, considering how absolutely horrid he was ??

Literally the only mother figures Franco had were his father's various lovers and wives. And all they ever did was neglect or humiliate him. Of course his mafia don father wouldn't attract polite or goodhearted women.

Franco probably grew up believing murder was something good, something to be proud of. He took his first life at 12 years old because he thought it was something that would make his father proud of him. With that being said, the only time that poor baby was ever embaced was when he KILLED somebody ????? And of course, because he got praise for murdering a man, he latched onto that bit of affection and positivity he'd never gotten before, and grew up further starting to do the only thing it seemed he was slightly liked for.

Since he started doing jobs for his dad as a debt collector and hitman, I'm sure he developed a complex through all of that, surrounded by his praise for violence and being unwillingly surrounded by it constantly. He became violent because that's what the world shaped him to become. Franco probably grew so used to the familiarity of killing that that's why he lost all meaning for the lives of others. And among the fact he was only ever outcasted in the first place by everybody ? I'm sure he felt some sort of revenge by reaping lives of the world that only ever did him wrong :( He probably viewed everybody as the same cold, heartless people he knew in his upbringing. He might've felt he had some sort of fucked up place in the Mafia, something he never had anywhere else.

He really wasn't ever taught... proper affection ? Innocent or sexual, all he ever knew was his father's behavior towards women, which wasn't good at all. When he snapped and murdered prostitutes, he might have seen it as a fresh start to something he ruined, behavior he may have learned from his father and the murder of his previous lovers. Violence was also VERY much a norm for him at this point in his life.

He was literally abused and humiliated so much he learned to get off on it sexually. The only thing Franco perceived of what sex was, was his erection being smashed painfully into a cold floor. He didn't know soft or gentle caresses. And because of his lack of a mother, he searches for a maternal figure within a sexual partner. Its like his line between a mother and a partner is blurred because those two relationships became one and the same in his mind. Its not that he views HIS actual mother as a sexual thing, I think its similar to like daddy issues ? How women tend to look for the care they never got from their father in older men they date. Its a complex, a symptom of neglect. I think franco desperately wants that motherly love he never got in the form of a lover, but he's definitely gone crazy along the way and it's become a deranged version of it from the things he was forced to endure :(

Franco's brain was also most likely SEVERELY damaged when his father beat him after the whole Angelina thing. I mean, have you seen his head in the game ??? I'm sure he looked relatively normal before that. I think it was his dad's doing that made his head all red and infected how it is. He was literally beat within the inch of his life, he almost died. I can only imagine he suffered from brain damage, head trauma, skull fractures, various infections, loss of hearing, sight, loss of teeth, etc. This probably made his messed up way of thinking even more messed up.

Then, he was exiled further by his father, physically this time, when he sent him off to Cuba. He killed even more people there and was practically on warfront. War is known to cause PTSD and stuff and other mental illnesses for a lot of people that unfortunately have to go through it. So even though Franco was already mentally damaged beyond any repair, he went through front line raids against revolutionary forces.

Then, yk, Murkoff got a hold of him eventually and I'm sure they did their fair share of whatever experiments they did on him. Placing him in the trials, putting his father's name on signs, and even naming the boat in his map after Angelina. It's like they made him relive all of his worst memories in a large box.

Anyhow, those are my Franco rambles. I feel like he's genuinely such a complex character that endured so much and it's just like. He's fucked up for a reason. It's not an excuse for the things he did in the game, but its a society vs. man thing with him. He had such a horrible life and a horrendous upbringing and I can't even imagine the agony his life was. Just thinking about the things he was subjected to and the way his mind was shaped so early on is so heartbreaking. Makes me wish I could've been there for baby Franco, if he had the proper love he never would've turned out the way he had 🙁 Red barrels really does have a way of making me feel bad for all of their characters. Most of them are just so unbelievably tragic.

[eggymf-archived]

the art of persuasion;

ft. ominis gaunt x f!reader/mc (one-shot)

themes: revenge, cheating, 6th year, slytherin!reader/mc, dark!reader/mc, cheater!sebastian, implied dark!ominis, subinis (for now), one-sided pining, slytherins being slytherins

warnings: nsfw, pwp?, smut, toxic behavior, manipulation, no romance, blowjob, cowgirl, p in v

summary: you discover your boyfriend's illicit little escapades in the restricted section with another girl. you plan to destroy them both using a certain potion, and a willing volunteer. amongst the array of selections at your disposal for your plan, you had your eyes on one specific person – his own best friend.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: romance is dead and horny is alive. there’s a part 2 for this – don’t ask why. *sweats* (for some reason that sounded like a damn poem i–)

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3 

It has been more than a month since the truth behind your nagging doubts and restless nights finally revealed itself. Like any other woman with a keen intuition especially towards their grimy, unfaithful lovers, you were unfortunately right about your suspicions towards your boyfriend of almost a year, Sebastian Sallow.

To say that you did not have the slightest idea that he'd do such a thing was a complete lie — sure you weren't an academic wonder, but you certainly weren't that daft.

Alana Crowley — a fellow 6th year student from Slytherin. A friendly, seemingly unproblematic young lady at first, until she decided to latch her claws onto your boyfriend, that is. She had been awfully clingy around Sebastian for the past two months, and that foul git of a lover had no qualms with her blatant display of her not-so-subtle forms of affection. In fact, he seems to thrive in the attention, much to your dismay.

You've seen the looks he had given her. You've felt the all-familiar sparks between them during their seemingly harmless interactions and stares. As the woman whom he loved first, you were aware of Sebastian’s irresistible ways of communicating with his eyes: his longing stares, the way it twinkles when a mere glance was spared towards him, and how its warmth enraptured the entirety of your being the moment he gazes upon you with raw adoration. 

He was doing the same tactics he had used in capturing your poor little naïve heart during one summer getaway after your 5th year. He might as well just slap you on the face for using the same tricks on another woman — it all hurts the same either way. But the fact that he had been doing all these scandals right under your nose however? Absolutely unforgivable.

What you hadn't expected was how you ended up finding out: witnessing him doing the deed with his little side piece in the Restricted Section. It was the day when the both of you had planned a study session together for your NEWTS with Ominis Gaunt, his best friend. Sebastian was uncharacteristically late, thus you and Ominis went looking for him, and unfortunately ended up stumbling upon the scene.

“Wait! Hngh–! What will you do if your girlfriend finds out— haaaah! A-about this?”

“She won't. She doesn’t even suspect a thing. Everything’s under control, lo— oh fuck!”

Those were the exact words both you and Ominis had heard as they engaged in their explicitly raunchy little act while you pathetically watched behind the bookshelves. Betrayal was a brutal weight, and it had clasped itself around your ankle within that moment, submerging you within the icy depths of bitter realization. 

You thought he’d be faithful to you like he had promised. Hell, the both of you went through that absolute shitstorm during your 5th year together. Surely that accounts for at least some form of loyalty and honesty about each other's feelings and intentions, right? But alas, he had broken that simple unspoken rule, and your trust towards him was no more.

While you were right to trust him with your secret regarding your unusual magical prowess, you've made a fatal mistake of entrusting your heart to his bloodied hands. Yet despite the gravity of the situation, no tears, hysterics, or even any form of hints were shown of how utterly devastated you truly were.

There was no way in hell that you, (Y/F/N), the famed wielder of ancient magic, would crumble over a mere cheating bastard who couldn’t keep his own filthy little flobberworm in his pants.

Perhaps Sebastian didn’t know you that well after all, because if he did, he wouldn't have dared to incur your anger the second time around. It was fair to say that you’d let him have a taste of his own ignorance and foolishness, and you weren't afraid of forgoing the brakes and letting your unbridled rage hit him like a Graphorn on a wild rampage.

Thus, here you were, currently standing in front of the potions station within the Room of Requirement. You’ve been keeping a watchful eye over the bubbling concoction that you had been secretly brewing for nearly a month.

Three measures of boomslang skin… One measure of bicorn horn… High temperature for twenty seconds… 

Upon stirring the thick, mud-like mixture, you quickly set your stirring utensil aside, letting the potion brew within the cauldron. There were two remaining pieces left in completing the little set-up that you've constructed out of your own pettiness, which consisted of this particular potion and a willing volunteer. 

For the most part, the former was complete. But the latter? That was an entirely different problem on its own, but you had your ways.

An echoing creak resounded throughout the magical space as the doors of the Room of Requirement swung open, revealing your fellow 6th year Slytherin friend with slicked back blonde hair, holding up his wand which was blinking red at the tip. The opal-eyed male sauntered towards you carefully, avoiding any possible objects he might collide against.

“Glad you made it, Ominis,” you welcomed. You gently grabbed his arm as you guided him towards the nearby chaise lounge. He sat comfortably at the rather cushy seat, a smile present on his face.

“I came here as soon as I got your owl, and I apologize for the delay too. Sebastian's been quite slippery as of late,” he sighed. You plopped down beside the male while a floating tea set poured you both a cup of tea, to which Ominis accepted with utmost gratitude.

“Not surprised,” you nonchalantly drawled as you savored your Earl Grey tea. “He doesn't loiter around his usual spots as of late. I wonder why.”

The pure nonchalance of your sarcasm caused a chuckle to arise from him before partaking in his own beverage. Your eyes trained towards his unseeing ones that seemed to have this knowing glimmer. With the countless vexations that both you and Sebastian had brought upon him during your 5th year, it was now Ominis' second nature to detect your devious little plans from a mile away, ready to reel you in whenever you got too far.

Which brings you to the oh-so-burning question that was living rent-free within your mind: why is he, out of all people, helping you?

Setting his teacup aside to the nearby side table, he reached for the inner pocket of his coat, grabbing a vial containing several strands of dark brown hair. 

“Managed to nick it off him this morning before he woke up. Thankfully he slept like a log,” he hummed. You grinned at him, levitating the vial to the nearby cabinet beside the potions station. Ominis leaned back against the backrest of the lounge with his legs in a figure four lock.

“Also, I believe we have pressing matters to discuss, (Y/N)?” his posh-toned query cuts through the momentary silence. “Surely you didn't invite me all the way to the Room of Requirement just to deliver several strands of hair.”

“Perceptive as always,” you smiled mirthlessly, eyes and tone getting slightly darker as your teacup floated off to the nearby table. “You’re right. We need to talk.”

“...Go on.”

“I’ll be frank with you. I’m not quite sure as to why you’d even agree to this little request of mine in the first place,” you admitted. “So kindly enlighten me, Ominis. You're far from the type who would engage in petty little acts of vengeance. Why exactly are you helping me?”

Ominis bit his lip, silently cursing within his head as he racked through his mind for a valid excuse. While he couldn't blame you for your cautiousness given that Sebastian himself was his closest friend, this was a topic that he had desperately avoided out of fear of rejection and for the sake of preserving his friendship with his oldest friend. That’s right — he was in love with you, and has always been eversince you’ve deemed yourself worthy of his trust.  

You’ve always had him wrapped around your pretty little finger even before he became aware of the butterflies. He loved you enough to forgo his own wants and needs of having you; to keep you close yet far enough so that he'd never be able to claim you for himself out of the bare minimum respect towards you and his best friend. He settled for your presence, pining hopelessly for the real thing, and he wasn't about to let his demons run rampant and ruin everything no matter how strong his urges were.

Or so he thought.

“A mere extension of my own good will towards a dear friend. Nothing more,” he answered stiffly with a trace of longingness evident within his misty orbs. This minute detail, however, doesn't go unnoticed by your sharp, calculating eyes. 

“Whether Sebastian's my best friend or not, infidelity is deplorable. Whatever acts of vengeance you have in mind is both warranted and well-deserved,” he added firmly.

You hummed in response, seemingly satisfied yet not entirely convinced with the purity of his intentions. Your eyes gazed upon him coyly, your lips curling upwards.

“Perhaps. But that's not your only reason now, is it?”

Ominis froze as you chuckled knowingly, an underlying dark tone present within your seemingly innocent display of amusement. His exhalation was slow, feeling your presence come nearer towards him. Much to his surprise, you pushed his leg that rested atop the other, lodging your knees in between his lower limbs. Dainty hands rested themselves gingerly upon his shoulders, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

“Surely you have your own motives, Ominis. You know what I’m brewing, yet here you are, giving into my little whims…” you trailed off with a hint of smugness in your whisper. His heart hammered at the featherlight touch that trailed itself along his prominent jaw.

“Now, let me word my question differently this time. What exactly do you hope to get from all of this?”

The sudden calloused allure of your tone caused the blonde-haired lad's breath to hitch. He gulped, breathing slowly and deeply to calm the raging tempo within his chest. His lips remained pursed — this was obviously not a good time for a romantic confession, and silence was the best option if he wished to keep his pesky little feelings under wraps. 

The madness within him was less noble with its intentions, however. It was a perfect opportunity to whisk you away at your most vulnerable emotional state — to steal you from Sebastian after that unsavory stunt that he had pulled. He’d do anything to have you. Anything. But alas, the demon itself was constrained by the chains of his strong morals, never to see the light of day.

Unfortunately, you were a lot more quick-witted than he thought, capable of putting two and two together: the way he’d comply to all your requests, how he instantly comes to your rescue, his willingness to put up with this ridiculous plan, the rosy hue that was slowly creeping up his pale complexion — all of it finally made sense.

“You like me, don't you?” 

His silence was more than enough, and the frown that was once on your pretty face morphed into a satisfied smirk. You leaned back, letting your eyes feast on his flustered state. A devious improvised plan formulated itself within your head and a sultry giggle escaped your lips. 

His thin lips were soon parted by your thumb. The said digit invaded his cavern, to which he welcomed by lightly grazing his tongue against your skin. He yelped as you gripped his chin harshly with your thumb hooked within his mouth, forcing him to look up while you gazed down upon his face with cold (E/C) eyes.

“Well?” you teasingly whispered, the pad of your thumb smearing his own saliva onto his lips as you await his answer. “Do you?”

“... Yes… Yes, I do,” he rasps, his morals finally consumed by the wildfire of his own desires.

“Good.”

And just like that, he fell right into your trap.

You gently lowered yourself onto Ominis’ lap, straddling him while your lips claimed his into a searing kiss. The opal-eyed man softly whined, dragging his palms along your thinly-clothed thighs before resting his hands on your derriere. A delightful purr erupted from your throat before biting on his lip as he snuck his fingertips under the thin layer of your knickers, giving the soft flesh a firm squeeze.

Feeling your lungs burn for air, the both of you parted, gasping and heaving. Your (E/C) orbs were hazy, clouded with both carnal desire and smugness. The way your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend's best friend looked so helplessly eager to give his entirety to you gave you a dizzying rush of prideful feminine arrogance.  

You sat upright while his hands drifted to your waist with evident impatience. Your clothed slit was now aligned right onto the stiff tent on his trousers. A breathy, euphoric moan escaped his lips, throwing back his head slightly as he was reduced into a shuddering mess. God, you were so warm — to think that he was feeling it through layers of clothing was downright maddening. The throbbing ache within his trousers was growing unbearable, and he wanted nothing but to relieve himself from this sinful agony. 

He has waited for so long. He has fantasized about you during his lonely nights, spread out and his for the taking — without Sebastian in the equation. He'd love nothing more than for you to strip him bare and do as you please with his body. The mere notion was enough for his stiff erection to twitch within its confines, leaking droplets of liquid desire.

Your lips curled into a gleefully sinister smirk. It was akin to witnessing a valuable gift unwrap itself; a revelation of how atrociously needy Ominis Gaunt gets once the correct buttons were pushed. 

“I think it's only fair if I give you a little taste of what you want, no?” you chuckled. A quiver raked through his lithe frame upon feeling the thin skin of your lips tracing itself along his prominent jawline. 

“Ah…!” he gasps with unbridled delight at the delicious suction against the delicate skin of his neck. Merlin, he never expected you to be this bold. A giggle erupted from your cherry red lips, drinking in the scrumptious sight of his flustered state. 

Oh, you were going to have fun with him for sure. 

He felt his legs part as you slid in between them, metal faintly clinking as deft fingers began to unbuckle his belt. His heart pounded against his chest, taking a gulp to soothe his now parched throat. His shaky fingers wandered to his vest, unbuttoning the garment while you palmed his stiff appendage through his underwear, kissing the weeping tip through the cotton thin fabric. 

His pleasure-induced whimpers successfully stroked your ego, and you allowed yourself to indulge deeper within this abysmal erotomania. Your hands creeped up along your own legs as you stood up, brunching your skirt all the way up until you reached your own lacy undergarments. 

While stripping the flimsy article off your being, you relished in the sight of the opal-eyed male loosening his own necktie and shortly unbuttoning his white shirt. You bit your lip upon witnessing his bareness: his soft, alabaster skin teasingly peeking through the undone clothing. 

God, he's beautiful.

"Hmm. Keep those on," you sighed breathily before he could take the articles of clothing off his frame. Ominis smirked lightly at this, putting his hands up as he laid back on the backrest of the chaise lounge. You knelt before him once more, slipping both his trousers and undergarments off him at the same time. He hissed at the sudden cold air nipping against his heated skin while you purred in delight, nuzzling your face filthily against the thick, leaky appendage.

"Please, (Y/N)..." he whimpered as you traced the tip of your tongue lightly against a thick vein at the underside of his shaft, clear globs of precum leaking from the tip at your teasing ministrations. The slick muscle eventually wandered towards his blunt tip, and a hiss of unadulterated pleasure escaped his bitten red lips as his fingers ran through your (H/C) locks; all in hopes of grounding himself from this euphoric high.

"Yes... That's it...! Darling— Oh, fuck...!" he groaned through gritted teeth as his fleshy head was enveloped within the warmth of your mouth. The pleasant vibrations from your moan further stimulates his already sensitive, twitchy organ. The flat of your tongue moved at every suction, resulting in every possible form of salacious sound being torn from his mouth with little to no mercy. 

He writhed at all the sensations that engulfed his senses; his pale, veiny fingers intertwined with strands of your (H/C) hair while his other hand gripped the armrest of his seat. Fire scorched him from within his loins while his toes curled, his brain in a state of mush and primal frenzy.  

Your own slender fingers wandered towards your own weeping hole, running the pads of your fingertips along your own heated flesh. Your mind was beginning to blank out as you began to take in his increasingly heady scent, audibly gurgling as he pushed your head deeper to accommodate his entire length.

He gasped, heaving a lungful of air as the blunt tip mercilessly hit the back of your throat. All you could do was to acquiesce to his desires as he brutally bobbed your head up and down his stiff erection. Your scalped burned delightfully at his iron grip on your hair, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. 

“I’m close… So fucking close…!” he groaned. His pace quickened, bucking his hips up this time, your throat instinctively tightening up at the repetitive intrusion. The sound of gurgles and squelches turned increasingly audible as he bucked his hips up wildly with his mouth hung slightly ajar.

A salty taste soon engulfed your senses, spurts of his hot seed flooding your abused mouth. He let out a shuddering groan at the suction as he was milked dry by your mouth. You pulled your head away with a pop before swallowing his essence, licking the sides of your lips to clean up any remaining traces.

Before he could even come to his senses, he felt your lips on his once more, instantly snaking your tongue into his hot cavern. He whines, tasting himself whilst running his slick appendage against yours. His head was still spinning from his release, his sightless eyes in a daze as he inhaled through his nose, taking in your addictive scent as much as he could. As soon as your lips unlatched itself from his, he let out a soft, needy whine, to which you responded with a giggle.

“Lay down,” you instructed softly, and he complied, letting you hover over his willing body. 

Tracing your fingertips along the center of his frame, you pushed the layers of clothing aside, revealing the expanse of his smooth pale skin — he was truly a work of art, rivaling that of marble statues. He hissed as your leaking hole descended dangerously close to his shaft, which was pulsating with anticipation as it felt the warm droplets of your essence drip upon it. 

Without a warning, you pressed your soaked core directly against his member. As soon as you began rocking your hips, Ominis absolutely lost the remaining traces of his sanity, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped before gasping for air. Your warm slick coated his now throbbing member, and the intimately lewd sensation effectively fried the remainder of his rationality. A loud groan rumbled from his chest upon placing your hole against the tip, moving your hips in a circular motion. 

Fuck, he was so close to entering you.

He wants to be inside you. No, he needs to be inside you right now.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you teased disapprovingly as Ominis tried to slide his member within your aching core. You pressed down harder against his twitching shaft, earning a pleasured whimper from him in response. 

“I didn't say we could go all the way, love,” you grinned, a hint of malicious amusement present within your eyes. “But with how desperately needy you are right now, perhaps you should… Convince me.”

He groaned impatiently, the pads of his fingertips sinking onto your fleshy thighs. He shifted under your weight pathetically, his nether regions craving for the deliciously warm friction against your slicked lower lips — the addictive sensation that you had cruelly deprived him from all of a sudden. You remained still, letting out a mirthless chuckle.

Dainty fingers wrapped around his neck, followed by a slow, open-mouthed kiss at the side of his lips. Shifting yourself slightly, you reached for his stiff erection, guiding the tip to your drenched hole. The fleshy tip merely prodded your entrance, never going past the head, much to Ominis' sheer agony. 

“F-fuck… (Y/N), please!”

Oh, you loved the sound of that: the way he begs and grovels like an animal in heat just to engulf himself within your warmth — truly a boost to your already inflated ego.

“Please, what?” 

“Please let me have you… Fuck, I need you so badly right now...”

His eyes widened at the painfully slow, inching intrusion; his eyes glassy with wanton tears. There was a raging urge within him to just snap his hips up, but he dared not to cross you — he was taking no risk in ruining everything, not when he's so close to obtaining his filthiest desire of finally becoming one with you. With one hand, you removed your necktie, your eyes never leaving his vulnerable, quivering form.

“How badly do you need it, love?” you asked mockingly while he let out a shuddering gasp; your warm juices slowly trickled down his shaft, pooling at its base.

“So fucking bad… I'll do anything. Please…” he whimpered.

A smug, menacing grin broke out of your lips.

“... Anything?” you repeated.

“Anything. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Good boy.”

The wind was knocked out of his lungs the moment you descended on him, your walls fluttering around his thick, twitchy appendage. You bit your lip as you began unbuttoning your shirt while gyrating your hips, much to his sinful delight. Blood was rushing to your head, trapping you within a dizzying frenzy of lust and desire, only to be fueled further when his hands gripped your bare waist, guiding you along his shaft.

You felt so full, and he was prodding and brushing at all the right places, making your eyes roll back at every slam of your hips upon his. Your juices were dripping everywhere, and the sounds of filthy squelches and wet slaps of skin filled the room along with the shaky, breathless little moans that escaped your sweet lips. Ominis panted, snapping his hips up occasionally in hopes of drawing out a more feral response from you, to which he was successful. 

You were a wreck — disheveled, legs quivering, covered in a sheen of sweat, inner thighs drenched solely with your own juices, and a drunken grin on your face while you rubbed your sensitive little pearl.

“Fuck— R-right there!” you cried out as he brushed against a spongy spot that made your thighs shake, your domineering façade slowly disintegrating. Every thrust from him had you choking on air with how rough he slams his hips, reducing you into nothing but a moaning mess.

This was genuinely one of the few instances where Ominis is upset about his lack of sight. All he ever wanted was to see you unravel before him — to look into his eyes pleadingly, writhe in pleasure as he brought waves upon waves of pleasure on your submissively sensitive body, and to present yourself to him in every debauched position possible before he fucks you into oblivion. 

Oh, the extent he would go to just to even catch a glimpse of you, especially when you're bare — he'd worship the ground you walked on, and treat you like you were the most prized person within the entire world with no questions asked.

He'd do anything for you. Anything.

“Fuck, I'm close…!” you mewled, feeling your walls slightly spasming around his cock, causing the male to hiss at the velvety grip of your core. Your thighs began to tremble, and you heaved as you began to move faster, chasing your high. 

“Cum for me, darling. Oh fuck, you're amazing,” he pants, his mind in a drunken haze.

He pulled you into his arms, thrusting his hips wildly while breathing in your heady scent as if it's the last time he'll ever inhale a lungful of air. An airy, shuddering moan tickled his ear, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Your walls had finally convulsed around him, and you felt spurts of his warm cum flood your long awaiting pussy. 

A sharp exhale escaped his dried mouth as you shakily let your worn-out body lay on top of him. He was still inside you, but the growing soreness in your thighs was preventing you from moving. Your heart was still hammering in your chest while your limbs felt like jelly, the exhaustion evident within your body. Ominis hadn't moved a single muscle either, his mind wandering into places, deep in thought. 

As soon as you attempted to get off him, however, his arm snaked around your waist, holding you in place. You glanced at him with tired, confused eyes.

“...Stay,” he whispers, his embrace tightening around you as if you'll disappear from his grasp anytime. The underlying neediness within his tone caused you to give into his harmless request, sinking back into the warmth of his embrace.

“...Okay.”

You nuzzled in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat with a sigh of comfort. A serene smile was present on your face as you relaxed, slowly getting lulled into a well-deserved nap in the comfort of his arms.

Willing volunteer? Check.

part 2: all’s fair in love and war >

[slyvieselkie]

Sweet As Apple - Fushiguro Toji

Check out my masterlist for more!

˖◛⁺⑅♡Lᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ♡⑅⁺◛˖⁺⑅♡Lᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ♡⑅⁺◛

When Toji first met you, you were as plain as an apple.

Just a regular girl that would never catch his attention on the street. The only reason why he even looked your way was because you were neighbours with the two things that he helped create.

You kept to yourself, never making life difficult for the two but also never going out of your way to help them. At least that's what he saw every now and then, across the street from the rundown apartment building.

So you can imagine his shock when he sneaks inside the place only to find you seated in the middle of the tiny room, carefully darning Megumi's shirt. Despite him not making a single rustle, your head turns to the unlocked door. Your eyes lock with the giant black haired man, and Toji watches as your expression becomes sour like a bad apple.

"Huh, so you're the deadbeat father? Don't even think about stealing money, they don't have any thanks to some one", you sneer.

And he shouldn't be like this, because you were a nobody, but a deep anger flares up in his stomach. How dare you look down on him like those bastards did, even though you were the one living in a moldy box? Toji never got a chance to express his fury because a mug flies to his head and he catches it with a scowl.

You're still on the tatami floor darning like a good mother, "Get out, find a ditch and rot in it."

What a bad apple, don't you know who is standing before you? He could kill you in a flash, tear you to shreds, crush your neck like it was nothing. Green eyes stare down at you and imagine your face distorting into fear, horror, desperation. And to his shock...he couldn't see it.

"Ow fuck!", he was too caught up with his thoughts to dodge the rusty alarm clock, "Fuck off, shithead! Next time its a knife!"

Toji leaves, not because of your threat, hell no! It was because he wouldn't know what he'd do if he were to stay any longer. Irked at losing to a plain apple, he goes off to relieve his stress. Maybe grab a hot chick or hide away in a casino...he doesn't have any money though, shit.

....

"We're home!", you turn to two children busy taking off their shoes, "Welcome back Tsumiki, Megumi", you answer softly.

Tsumiki beams and runs into your arms, Megumi trails behind and latches onto your side. You chuckle, use a sugary apple tone telling them to wash their hands before eating dinner. It was nothing special, some cheap meat stir fry and vegetable soup with white rice, but they eat it up like its the best meal on Earth. Afterwards, you coo at Megumi to bathe while helping Tsumiki with her homework. When they switch, the little boy sits in your lap and finishes his grammar homework with his tongue poking out.

A giant shadow watches you like a creep, with a strange feeling swirling inside. Apple sweetness seeps out of you for the children to soak up, children that had no relation to you. Tsumiki and Megumi looks at you like you were the perfect apple, just the right amount of sweetness and crisp along with that fresh aroma. They cling to you and try to take as much as they could possible get.

You rock them to sleep even though they should be old enough to sleep by themselves, humming a soft lullaby. They're tucked into bed and snoring away by the time you sneak back to your apartment. You stop at the entrance because he was inside, sitting in the middle like it was his house.

"I knew you'd come back", you sigh and head inside flicking the lights on.

He's covered in blood and dirt, piercing green eyes stare at you behind the grimy and red mess. Toji sees your face turn sour and he suddenly feels a dread, that's not what you're supposed to do. You didn't with them when Tsumiki spills the soy sauce all over your dress, when Megumi walked in completely covered in mud, when they fling food everywhere whilst trying to speak.

"Oi, at least use my shower if you're going to sneak in. Look at the mess you've made", you click your tongue and point to the shower.

You meet the pair of glowing green eyes, lighthouses looking for the right direction, "Go, I'll heat up some leftovers for you."

Toji stands in the bath allowing the water to turn a copper colour, he could stay there forever. But you would grumble about the waste, so the man gets out and wraps himself with the fluffy towel. He was about to go out bare when green eyes noticed the folded clothes next to the sink. Somehow in that time, you've already washed and dried his clothes.

Toji exits the bathroom and sees you watching something on that ancient TV, a little grainy with sound that glitches every now and then. Next to you was a small wooden table and food, steaming white rice with slices of egg rolls and a side of soup. He understands why the children eat the way they do, Toji finishes everything in minutes and for once feels full even though he could eat three more servings.

Green eyes finally glances up at you, to see you watching with a soft smile. The black haired man visualises the nectar leaking out of your cracks. And he wonders what a girl like you was doing in this part of town, why an apple sweet heart was living in this garbage area. The dishes are cleared and the giant sits there, amused and embarrassed by the way his fingers fiddle. What does he do now? Get lost and find somewhere else to sleep? Does he repay you with sex?

"Just sleep, dumb ass", you flick his forehead and he jolts spinning around.

Oh, you've already showered and the lights have been turned off. That's a no for sex then.

Slipping underneath the blanket, you snuggle into your futon. Toji casually just lies back and rests his head on his arm, this tatami has nothing on the other floor he's had to sleep on. In fact, this was on the better side of things.

You giggle, "Idiot, come here", the man turns over to find you holding the blanket to reveal the empty space on the futon, "Why would I make sleep like that?"

He gets drawn in by the pretty smile you have on, and carefully lie down beside you. How odd, Toji was known as 'sex on legs' and yet he was here barely breathing so he wouldn't annoy you. Straight as a plank so you two would never touch. He'll probably just stay up to make sure your hands don't graze.

....

It's been a week since that night. You woke up the next morning to find that he's vanished, you shrug it off since that was expected.

Life goes on without him, you get busy as travel season arrives and people start booking you for tours around the city. While its tiring and stressful, the money is completely worth it and the photos you bring back for the children always makes it better. On the days where you could be out from early morning to nightfall, you let the children into your place where they can microwave food. You tell them to go back to their apartment, but the two always says that they can't sleep without you.

It was on a rare free day, you spin the pen while calculating your expenses. You grin seeing the remaining zeros in your bank, maybe you'll take the two out to the zoo and some barbecue afterwards. Then the door clicks open and your head snaps towards it, a robbery in broad daylight?

"...I'm sorry, when did you start living here?"

The black haired man smirks, strolling in with a bag swung over his shoulder, "Miss me much?", you raise an eyebrow, "Shook off the prude act did you?", he scowls at the reminder, "Shut up."

Sitting across from you, he throws the bag onto the table and you hear the heavy thud. You narrow your eyes at him but Toji only motions you to open it with a smug look. Carefully unzipping the bag, you peak inside to see the stacks of bills. Your sweetness grows sour and rotten.

"Where did you get this money from?", "Working?", he frowns because why are you scowling, "Working as what? A thief, a drug dealer, an underground fighter, a porn star, tell me!"

Green eyes sharpen, "Don't raise your voice at me", you laugh and sneer, "Don't tell me a murderer...fuck off", you shove the bag his way, "Fuck off and don't come back, don't ever show your face back here!"

You stand up and he follows, towering over your figure, "What's your problem? I just gave you five times the amount you made this week, you should be thanking me", he growled and you glare back, "Did I tell you to do that? To kill someone and bring me the money? No, I didn't, so don't justify this shit using me! You're a killer, a lowlife, worthless shit!"

In an instant, there's a tight grip around your throat and he leans in hissing, "Don't fucking test me, I can kill you in a blink of an eye."

But you smile like you've won, "Like I said, worthless piece of shit. Is that something you should be proud of, brag to me? That you can easily kill someone? That's the kind of person, the adult, the man you want to be?"

Your eyes widen as you make him falter, "You're nothing, less than the dirt you sleep with. No love, no family, no true friends, you're a completely pathetic loner. Just a clump of muscle to die alone...is that what you want to be?"

Before Toji knows it, he's out of that place holding the bag of money and remembering your last words, "If you want to keep living like that, then do those kids a favour and plan your own funeral."

....

The days pass as you and Toji think about what happens now.

Like last time, life goes on for you. There are bills to pay, food to put on the table, someone else's kids to take care of. But he's always lingering in the back on your mind, the defeated expression haunting your sleeps. Maybe you went too far, pushed him over the edge and now another life has been wasted. Those two never got to know their mothers, and now they'll never see their father.

Toji on the other hand had been cooped up in some temporary hideout, wondering what the hell he should do. He knew you were right, that you hit every weak point without a twitch of a finger. However...he's too far in, has done too much, has made too many enemies, has too many scars to forget. Toji wasn't meant to stay by your side, because he would only sour you into a bad apple.

But he also can't forget that night. How good it felt to take a warm shower, have clean clothes, eat a home cooked meal, sleep on a soft mattress and fluffy pillow. To not be alone and miserable. It's been so long since Toji has felt this weak, all he wants to do is fall asleep next to you.

So he sneaks into your place in the middle of the night, and sees your sleeping figure under the blanket. He first sits down beside you, observing your peaceful expression. It was so delicate, too fragile to be around him.

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me?"

You blink waiting for him to do something, but he's frozen and stuck to the floor. So you take your chance and pounce on him, too little compared to Toji to even make him budge. You end up curled in his lap, the blanket loosely thrown around him. Perfect.

Your voice comes out in a soft tone, "Give it a go. This world is your oyster as long as you take the chance. Just try to live a better life, for your children, for the ghosts around you, for yourself. "

Toji never responded, but you got your answer from the way his arms wrapped around you tightly. He drifts off to sleep with his face buried in your neck and feels the tension leave his body. Maybe this could work out, if its you.

....

"What are you doing here, you deadbeat man?"

He looks up from the ground to see Megumi glaring at him, "Oi, I still have it in me to give you a good spanking", his younger clone snorts, "When did you ever have it in you?"

He hates how right the kid is. Even if Megumi were to swear at him like an Irish man, Toji would only go and sulk to you. It probably has something to do with him not being there for Megumi since he came into this world.

"What are you doing here?", Toji smirks and pushes himself off the Bentley, "What do you mean, I'm just a good father here to pick up his lovely son~", the latter gives him a disgusted look, "Like hell you'd do that."

It's absolutely true, as if he'd go out of his way to pick the ungrateful brat up from high school. Plus, its tiring the way he has to ignore all of the housewives drooling over his muscles. They're not even trying to be discreet, evening making their children befriend Megumi to reach him. Those brats also have their own motives, always asking Toji to get a signature from the A-lists he stunt doubles for. But it was your orders, something about picking the kid up and go clothes shopping for a family dinner.

"Come on, let's get out of here before their panties get wetter", the boy feels queasy and Toji cackles, "I'm telling Mum!"

As he drives off, the black haired man feels his heart flutter at the way the children refers to you. It's perfect family, you're the perfect couple with two gorgeous children on their way to becoming adults. Of course, it wasn't accomplished overnight. While Tsumiki had no problem calling you two her parents, Megumi was different.

He resented Toji for a long time. For abandoning him when he was only a small boy, for leeching onto you...for bringing her presence into the house. The small photo frame of his real mother haunts him, it's a constant reminder that you could leave him any moment because there was no obligation. Toji gave up after a week, hiding her away in his wallet. But you made him put it back up despite all of the boy's tears.

"B-But don't you hate it?", "What do I hate, love?", he sniffles as giant tears fall down, "T-That I'm not yours, that t-the deadbeat cares about her?"

A chuckle escapes you as Megumi hides away in your arms, "Didn't I tell you not to call him that?", "...He deserves it."

Letting out a sigh, you reach out to caress the young lady inside the frame, "Your mum seems like a wonderful woman, I'm not surprised Toji loves her...I imagine if she was still alive, your dad would've stayed on the right track. She would've been a loving mother and wife, it would be disrespectful of me to let her beauty rot away just so I could feel secure."

You pull away and nuzzle into his hair, "Besides, I'm getting a little too old to be playing games with ghosts. Maybe in my teens, but I have bigger things to worry about now. If Toji can't see me without remembering her, then I have no reason to entertain him. But you'll always be my Megumi, my adorable boy, my child."

In that moment, you were the apple of his eye. A gift from the world that he thought abandoned him. And somewhere in his heart, he feels the same as Megumi. He should've met you first, long ago before anyone else. You two should've been together and happier years ago, Tsumiki and Megumi should've been born from you. You would've set him straight ages ago, turn him into the responsible father he is today.

But he learns to let it go, you taught him that. To move on from his past, to accept his flaws, to feel compassion and love, to cry and bleed, to smile and laugh.

"Dad, Megumi!", the exact copies wearing matching black suits see a blue ball of fluff bouncing about in front of the restaurant.

It's Tsumiki and whatever that thing she decided to wear. You place a hand on her shoulder to calm her down and Toji's breath hitches when he fully takes you in. It was really nothing extravagant, just a pretty apple red dress and the cheap earrings he bought you with his first check.

But it's you, so he falls in love all over again for the sweetest apple.

Hi Lovelies, hoped you guys enjoyed this!

Even though I think Toji might be a little too out of character, I always imagined him to be this confused giant when it comes to receiving affection and love. I hope the apple metaphor and motif wasn't too annoying, it felt a little...cringe in some areas but I just thought apple and couldn't look back!

Anyways, see ya again ‿୨♡୧‿

[helga-grinduil]

People are being drama queens over nothing like why is everyone pretending this twist ruined tomura's character when this shit was foreshadowed and it's so obvious?

Also since tomura mentioned before the league not having a healer maybe he'll unlock reconstruction; heal deku and the villains since everyone in fucked up condition.

I talked so much about this on twitter I think I will throw up if I have to explain what you just said to other people. Some are saying that it 'absolves' hero society from it's issues (it doesn't, no one still helped Tenko because they believed that heroes are the ones who should be, well, heroes), some are saying that it ruins the fact that Tenko was 'born wrong' and was rejected by the world for something he couldn't control when it NEVER WAS the point of his backstory. AFO convincing Kotarou to have Tenko doesn't change anything about society's faults nor about the abuse Tenko experienced at home.

And the fact that AFO already knew who Tenko was when he met him was there since day fucking one - he literally addressed by his FULL NAME and knew exactly what happened to him! Even if someone did help Tenko, AFO would've kept stalking him, probably 'causing some shit to try and snatch Tenko anyway. Because that's WHAT HE DOES.

Tenko was neither rejected for having no quirk nor for having Decay. Kotarou would've rejected his desire to be a hero anyway, because that rejection was due to his trauma (which was, ding-ding, caused by Nana trying to save Kotarou from AFO in the first place!!!! AFO was the cause from the start!). He would've hated the idea of Tenko becoming a hero whether Tenko had a quirk or not. The idea that Decay was the reason Tenko was ignored was what AFO made him to believe, it was never true in Tenko's case. The ONLY societal issue that ever truly mattered when it came to Tomura was the fact that hero society made people complacent and distanced from reality.

People just... latched onto the wrong ideas when it came to Tomura and what made him a good character for the sake of seeing him as more 'relatable'.

And I saw some people say that AFO being behind Tomura's backstory makes Tomura into a 'perfect victim' when his appeal was that he's not, that his destructive tendecies are a bad coping mechanism and that made him relatable, but now it turns out that AFO just made him think he wants to destroy, so it's not Tomura's own coping mechanism anymore... which is completely wrong. TOMURA IS A MURDERER. He automatically isn't a 'perfect victim'. None of the villains are. Destruction (and self-destruction) IS Tomura's coping mechanism. It BECAME one, it wasn't one from the start. Sure, AFO was the one who made him think he wants to destroy, but that was always the case. Tenko didn't want to kill people on his own. But AFO also didn't make Tomura want to destroy everything either. Or feel relief when he was destroying stuff. This was Tomura, and Tomura alone.

Destroying brought him the sense of catharsis, because it reaffirmed Tomura's beliefs about himself (the beliefs that were created by AFO, which was, again, always the case, and a lot of people talked about it for years prior to these chapters). That when he destroys, at least he's being himself. «Everyone will keep rejecting me anyway even if I try not to be a bad kid, but if I'll embrace my real self and do what I want to do (I don't) at least I'll be accepted by someone». He followed AFO's words and killed those two hooligans for the unsaid promise of being accepted - something that he craved the most. Destruction is still his unhealthy coping mechanism - he destroys stuff -> feels good because he feels reassured in his purpose and his views -> it passes, he feels sick, angry, empty and depressed -> he is in need of some catharsis -> rinse and repeat.

[jut-and-dae-enthusiast]

Case 143! //h.h.j\\

HyunjinxPlusSized!Reader, kinda slow burn? Friends to loversssss, she fell first he fell HARDER, flufffff

Warnings: a bit of like self-image stuff but not too much. Not edited as well as it could be. Tooth rotting fluff tbh. Hyunjin is a simp but ofc he is.

“Why do I keep getting attracted?? I cannot explain this reaction.”

Hyunjin thought he would never see you romantically, that is until he realizes too late that he’s fallen head over heels for you.

The day you met Hwang Hyunjin was chaotic from the very start. You had managed to sleep through all three of your alarms, barely made it in time for work, and thought your bad luck was over when you arrived at the coffee shop. However, as you quickly turned from the counter after grabbing your large iced macchiato, you ran directly into Hyunjin, who had been waiting his turn.

“Oh my god! I’m so so sorry!” You apologize profusely, looking for the nearest napkin dispenser. He was still in shock, looking down at his now stained sweater. “Um, I can buy you a new one?” You suggest, trying your best to clean up your mess without being weird and gropey.

“This sweater was a custom limited edition Prada.” He muttered, looking sadly down at himself. You felt your heart drop into your ass at the realization that this sweater was probably worth more than your entire existence.

“Oh, uh, well…” you trail off, still dabbing napkins against his sweater as your face flushes bright red.

“Don’t worry about it.” He gently rests his hands on yours and pushes them towards you. “I have a really good dry cleaner.” He gives a small smile and turns to leave.

“Let me at least buy you a coffee?” You grab his arm, stopping him before he could leave. “I need a replacement anyway.” You shrug sheepishly. He gives you a once over, trying to decide if you should be trusted before shrugging and agreeing.

“I’ll take an iced americano.” He replies softly before taking a seat in the corner.

Thus began your wonderful friendship. Hyunjin made it clear pretty early on that you weren’t his type, talking to you about the girls he liked or hooked up with. Almost in too much detail at times. He didn’t see you romantically, just as someone to hang out with. Someone who listened to him and liked to sit in silence with him while he painted.

At first, of course, you thought he was cute. You have eyes. But realizing he wasn’t interested in anything like that with you was enough to push you past those feelings quickly. Now, well over two years later, you two have settled into a comfortable platonic relationship.

“What do you need, Jinnie?” You answered the random FaceTime from your best friend, applying makeup to your face.

“Huh? What are you getting all dolled up for?” He asked, clearly forgetting whatever reason he had called you for before.

“I have a date tonight. One of my coworkers set me up with a friend of hers.” You responded simply, dabbing on some lipstick and not even looking at your phone.

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, watching you with furrowed brows. What was this feeling stirring in his stomach? Surely it wasn’t what he thought it was.

“Have you met this guy before?” He finally asked, clearing his throat.

“Uh, no. But I trust my friend. She wouldn’t set me up with anyone weird.” You shrug, now glancing over to see his concerned look. “Hyunjin, you go out with girls all the time. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly being protective.” You tease, laughing and shaking your head.

“No, it’s not anything like that. I’m just concerned… as your best friend…I want you to be safe.” He tried to argue, but the feeling in his gut kept growing and latching onto every fiber of his being.

How dare someone else get to see her beautiful smile. See how pretty she is with all of her makeup done- Oh my god, what? Get a hold of yourself, Hwang Hyunjin.

Hyunjin shook his head and dismissed the weird thoughts.

“Why did you call, Jinnie?” You asked, eyes narrowing on him in concern.

“Oh, I was just wanting to hang out while I paint. But you have plans, so no worries. Guess it’s just me and Spotify tonight.” He gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and waves before signing off.

A few weeks later, the two of you met up for a late night movie night. You wore what you normally would, a t-shirt and baggy pajama shorts, since you had no one to impress. When Hyunjin gave you a questioning brow, you teased him by saying,

“Changbin isn’t here, so there’s no point in dressing up.” Which earned you his signature side eye and made you laugh. You found your spot on the couch, scrolling through your phone while Hyunjin grabbed the snacks from the kitchen.

“They didn’t have the chips you like, so I-“ He stops short when he glances up at you sitting on the couch. His eyes locked onto your bare legs, which he had seen a million times at this point, and felt his heart lurch. You looked up at him in confusion, your brow slightly furrowing.

“Which ones did you get?” You reached out for him to hand you the chips, but he was frozen. You stand up and gently pull the bag from his hands, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re being weird.” You mutter before turning and taking your seat on the couch.

“I’ll be right back.” He quickly leaves the room, heading straight for the bathroom. Once inside, he splashes his face with cold water, patting his cheeks frantically. He then looks himself squarely in the eye through the mirror. “Get a grip, Hwang. This doesn’t even make sense. You just haven’t been with someone in a while. Yeah, just touch starved. That’s it.”He whispered to himself, taking deep breaths to steady his heart. After he finally calmed himself enough, he reemerged into the living room with a small smile on his face.

“You okay, bestie?” You looked up at him in concern. “I’m sorry if I took it too far with the Changbin thing. I was just joking.” You had clearly spent the last ten minutes wondering what could have upset him.

“No, it’s not that! It’s nothing, actually. I just had a weird stomach cramp.” He smiled assuringly and took his seat beside you. However, he almost immediately realized that he had sat too close and your arms were pressed up against one another.

“Feeling a bit clingy, are we?” You teased while leaning into him and he could feel the red slap its way onto his cheeks and quickly spread down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize-“ He moved to scoot away, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve sat this close.” You rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the movie. He, however, couldn’t look away from your side profile. The curve of your nose, your lips that pouted without even trying.

The second you left his apartment that night, he basically ran to his studio and began sketching you from his memory. Putting love and care into every single curve and freckle. It was frantic- his heart racing the entire time, his fingers trembling. As he sat back from his drawing, gasping for air, it finally dawned on him.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with her.” He muttered, all of the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. He was wracking his brain trying to understand when this happened, how this had happened. He swore he hadn’t been interested in you, that you were far from his type. He immediately stood up and began pacing his studio, muttering to himself and trying to figure out how this could have occurred.

Before he knew it, morning had come and he hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep. He entered dance practice that day looking like a zombie, especially with the dark bags under his eyes. The guys kept asking him what was on his mind, but he waved them off and gave excuses. He had barely grasped what this was, he wasn’t going to have them teasing him on top of it.

To make matters even worse, they had a comeback right at that time and so he wasn’t able to see you even if he had wanted to. Time seemed to drag on but he soon realized that it had been a month since he had last seen you. Since he realized his feelings. He found himself missing you, scrolling through his camera roll and looking at the photos he had of you. Textbook definition of lovesick (even though he hadn’t confessed his feelings yet). Being ever the observant one, Seungmin caught on rather quickly. He also had happened to glance over Hyunjin’s shoulder and see him sketching your smiling face on his iPad.

“Does y/n know you like her?” Seungmin asked quietly one morning over breakfast. Hyunjin choked on his soup, looking up at his member with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He tried to ask cooly, but the terrified look in his eyes was dead giveaway that Seungmin was right.

“Hyung, it’s written all over your face. I’m guessing you haven’t confessed then.” The younger one nodded to himself and took a bite of his rice.

“I… I don’t know if I should. We have a good thing going right now. I think I’m just being greedy.” Hyunjin shook his head and sighed.

“You’ll never know how she feels until you tell her, Hyung.” Seungmin warned as he stood from the table and took his dishes over to the sink.

It had been at least a week since you had spoken with Hyunjin. While you missed him a lot, you also wanted to check in on him. He had been distant lately. So, you grabbed your phone and sent him a message.

He quickly stood up and quietly went to his room, shutting the door behind him. Just like magic, your face popped up on his screen. He opened the FaceTime call and smiled softly.

“Hey bestie! Haven’t heard from you in a while, so I just wanted to make sure you still liked me.” You teased, laughing. His eyes widened, afraid you had found out his secret. “Not like that, dummy! I already know that one.” You were sure his reaction was because he was shocked you made that assumption.

“R-right. Yeah, you’re still my bestie.” He smiled, his heart rate slowing. He felt like he was going to melt into the floor at the sight of your relieved smile. Had you always been this pretty? It seemed amplified now that he was pining for you. “Uh, have things been good for you?” He tried to seem normal as to not key you in to the fact that he was definitely memorizing the way your hair fell into your face right now so he could draw it later.

“It’s been good! I miss you, though. My work friends are okay, but who am I supposed to watch dramas with when you’re gone?” You laughed at yourself and felt a little sheepish at your admission. “Can we do a self-care drama night when you get back? I just got some nice face masks.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” He smiled dreamily as he thought about it. He definitely wouldn’t feel nervous the entire time, no way. He’s the rizz-master.

His hands trembled so badly when he tapped on your door that he nearly dropped the drinks he was holding in his other hand. Why was he so nervous? He had done this a hundred times by now, if not more. His mind went completely blank when you opened the door in your baggy t-shirt and sweats.

“Bestie!” You pull him inside and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. The sudden skinship had his heart pounding even harder than it was before. You pull away from the hug and smile up at him. “I’ve got everything ready! I’ll stick these in the fridge.” You take the drinks from his hand and disappear into your apartment.

Hyunjin wandered over to sit on the couch, wiping his now clammy hands on his sweats hoping you won’t notice. You sit beside him and excitedly begin pulling stuff out for your self-care night.

“Your headband, sir.” You hand him the llama one you had picked out for him a while ago, then you grab your frog one and you both push your hair back from your faces. “You’ve been traveling a lot, so I picked this one out for you.” You explain as you open a face pack and lean over to put it on his face. Normally, he leans in and closes his eyes, “sitting pretty” as you mentally called it. However, this time he moved out of the way with wide eyes.

“I-uh- I can do it!” He reaches for the mask, but you pull back frowning.

“We’ve always put them on for eachother… why are you being weird?… Do you have a new girlfriend?” You searched his face for answers, only to see his eyes somehow go even wider as his head shakes quickly.

“No! Definitely not!” He makes an “x” with his hands and aggressively shakes his head. “I just- whatever. Just put it on.” He leans in, his eyes closed and waits for you to gently put the mask on. Every touch feels like shocks of electricity, so much so that he finds himself holding back shivers.

“There we go.” You say slightly and sit back, admiring his handsome face before he opens his eyes and looks back at you. He quietly grabs your face mask and opens it, hesitantly reaching forward to put it on. Your eyes are closed, complete trust in him as you lean forward slightly.

“How did that double date go?” Hyunjin asked later as you two were letting your masks set and watching a drama.

“That was like forever ago, Hyune.” You tease, rolling your eyes. “I mean, it was fine. But he just wasn’t really into me. I could tell he didn’t expect me to look like this,” she gestures to herself as a whole, “when he agreed to the date. I guess I’m a bit of a catfish.” She giggled, shaking her head. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked you over.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, so I don’t get what his problem was. And you look nice in all of your pictures, yeah, but you look just as lovely in person. He must be an idiot.” He grumbled, focusing on the tv.

“Jinnie! People are allowed to have a type. You have one and I’ve never said a word about it.” you tried to reason, looking at him in shock.

“Your type doesn’t determine whose name your heart chooses to call.” He says seriously, looking into your eyes. You feel the mood shift, see the intensity of his gaze. “I… I have been… realizing some things lately. About myself. And uh… about you.” His hands are trembling in his lap, but he knew he had to get this out now. “Y/n, you’ve been by my side for so long now. Through a lot of things. And I’m sorry it took me this long to see you. Truly see you.”

“Hyunjin, what’s happening right now?” Was all you could muster, eyes wide as you watched him carefully. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.” You warned, frowning.

“It’s not a joke, y/n. I… I love you. I have for so long that when I finally realized it, it hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart calls your name. I find myself doodling sketches of you without even realizing. I-” He pauses, realizing his rambling and looks down. You sit there in stunned silence, your brows furrowed and eyes set directly on him. “Please say something. Anything. I-I know this is sudden, but I can’t help-“ before he can finish, you cross the space between the two of you and gently place a kiss on his lips. He lets out a squeak of surprise but melts into you immediately after, his hands holding your face tenderly.

When you finally pull away, you can almost see the hearts swirling in his eyes. There’s no need for words as the two of you smile at one another, gazes full of love.

“Thanks for finally seeing me, Hyunjin.”

(I got the Inspo for this from a “would skz date a plus sized person” tiktok and now we are here. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗)

[scrunglepaws]

Tried to fit all my fic ideas on one page, but I still forgot some because they're like... scrawled on random pieces of paper all over my house/in different notebooks/ect. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I tried!

The little branchy-offy things are prequels/sequels of that particular series. Bleeped out things I thought might be spoiler-y to ongoing series. Things with * are super WIP-y titles because I dunno what to call them.

More ramblings under the cut! (Nothing spoilery for the ongoing series; just vague things!)

No Heroes Zone // - I have a lot more generalized worldbuilding, character notes, ect than actual stories. The story ideas are mostly vague/short... Though, I suppose I could stand to write some super short fics. - The exception is an angsty sonighty fic that's basically done, but I just have to fill in all the inbetween, connecty bits. And decide how sonighty-y I really want to go with it. That ship came outta nowhere, I tell ya. - NHZ is really mostly Tails (and Metal) angst, tho. The other day I was thinking about how he tries to latch onto Shadow and even Metal in the absence of having Sonic and was like "Wow, Tails, clingy much? What are you, Nine???" then I felt really bad. T-T; He just misses his brother...!

Kaleidoscope // - The name of this fic is based on an art piece I've been wanting to do for forever: A kaleidoscope of Tails/Nine/Mangey, looking at each other and seeing them each from their own perspective. Because that's the theme of the whole story, funky scifi weirdness aside. But uh, 1) didn't have a decent digital art program for a bit and 2) I'm not good enough at drawing the subtle differences in their appearances to really make it hit how I wanted. Also 3) Tails looks basically the same to all three of them, lmao. - "Mangey Remembers" is Mangey's backstory and "Loneliness*" is... Less of a backstory for Nine, more of a brief showcase of his character in general. Because we already know Nine's whole deal from canon. Same reason Tails doesn't have a backstory- he's supposed to be canon Tails. - "Starless Sky" and "Ruination*" are both poteeeential sequels, but I'm not set on doing them. Ruination would just be a short, noncanon "what if?" bad ending for the heck of it.

Someplace AU (Aquarius) // - Also halfway calling it Aquarius for now because I ended up continuing the first part of the story under that fic name.

- It was originally more focused on Sails, hence Someplace being a play on No Place. But now it's about equally Kit and Sails. I ended up getting SO MANY effing ideas for these dudes, man. ;w;

- "Hollow Existence*" isn't a specific story, but just a sprinkling of scenes/backstory bits that detail why Kit is the way he is. Mostly his relationship with Surge growing up.

- "Sails' Tales" is likewise a collection of random Sails backstory bits. I have a lot more specific/fleshed out things for him, though. BUDDY, did I have fun with the No Place lore. Also, his relationships with Catfish and Black Rose are so cute... ;A;

- The bits to the right are basically going to be chapters in Aquarius. They're vague enough not to be spoilery (other than the blipped ones...)

- "=D?" is a sequel that I'm very excited about. Probably shouldn't say much beyond that.

Everything Else // - CaveTails is a Journey to the Center of the Earth-esque silly, silly thing. That could maybe become a bit more serious? BAsically, I was thinking "Huh, kind of weird that my main kittails fic is with Sails. That'd be funny if I did ones with Nine and Mangey, too. Just for the lulz. Especially the Mangey one." This is the Mangey one. xD Except he's sort of like... Tails AND Mangey at the same time, character-wise? So? :? Also, potentially some wholesome Sonic+Tails moments because I weirdly haven't written any of those yet.

- "Kids" is just a continuation of that goofy Tails Doll+Cream oneshot. Just small ideas for another chapter or two. Cute friendship, fluff, and lots of comfort to make up for the hurt in the first chapter. :3;;

- "Alien*" is what it says on the tin. I have a couple different ideas for how it could go. One of them boots out Silver entirely and had Metal in his place. xD But I might have enough material to write an alien Silver AND alien Metal fic. We'll see whenever I get around to it. :3

- "Nine's Shadow*" is something I've wanted to write ever since I made that joke oc, Stales the Fox aka Zombie Tails variant from the Grim. Probably just a oneshot (or a few short chapters) fic that mostly focuses on Nine being "all alone" after the ending of Sonic Prime.

- "Why is Babies?*" is the second idea I had for a fic. It's just Shadow being awkward and not knowing how to look after a chunk of the main cast that are suddenly tots for unknown reasons. It's very lighthearted, comedic, and cute. Originally a Shadow+Metal fic until I learned more about Eclipse and just HAD to include him. Dude is literally a struggling single parent in canon, how could I not include him in a story about his brother going through something similar? xD Also, I might call this fic "Rascals" as a reference to that one Star Trek episode with a similar premise. Because! Star Trek. 8D

- "The Fifth Element" ... I have put off posting anything about this fic idea for so long because I'm EMBARRASSED IT'S SO STUPID AND CORNY DON'T LOOK AT ME,,, In case you're totally lost, the 1997 film of the same name is my. Favorite movie. So naturally, this was my first idea for a fic. It's so all-over-the-place tonally, though. Obviously, got a LOT of silly, especially the parts that follow the movie almost exactly. But I also added a lot of original bits that help flesh out the characters' relationships. The protag is Shadow, who is very, very soft and introspective in it. Which, like, how did that happen??? But I love it. Metal is his co-lead and is mostly goofy because he's a fish out of water. Sonic is VERY, VERY goofy like goddamn (he's Ruby Rod- if you know, you know). Then there's just the silliest shit ever like Silver. Silver is Shadow's cat. It's stupid, but it's also fun, and maybe even matters to the plot. You don't know. Blaze is the president. Dr. Starline, Surge, Eggman, and The End are in it. Tails has the smallest part of any of my fics, but I think I cast him well. I need to stop now or I never will. Don't look at me. xDD

~

But yeah, as I said, I forgot a lot of other ideas. A few more (still forgetting some, I'm sure): - "Creature from the Black Lagoon" ft. kittails - Steam Powered Giraffe-vibes 50's thing w/ Tails, Cream, and automatons of Kit, Surge, Metal, Belle, Gemerl, ect - Tails Doll trying to be a Real Boy(tm) - Kittails-focused folklore AU with Kit as a kelpie and Tails as a normal mobian. Bunch of other people as fae creatures and villagers, including Starline as the main villain. - Maybe a whispangle oneshot from the above au (Tangle is a mobian, Whisper is. basically a magic wolf? xD) - Knuckles/Tails role-swap

[katyahina]

It is really interesting to speculate about the meaning of this.. Messengers are associated with the dreaming Hunters and the Dream, but what if those of them who are too far from the Dream are under a lot of strain and the image of the nice person that cared for them is just the only thing they can rely on?

^ In regards to Doll being a 'vessel' of Moon Presence in some regard, this reminds me of Crawlers, other Nightmare creatures! Their larger variants have multiple Messengers sticking out of their guts. I have a personal headcanon on them, but imagine: whereas Winter Lanterns imitate the Doll (and by doing so, Moon Presence), Crawlers are meant to imitate corpse of Kos with the ripped guts. Both are sort of mockery from the Great Ones. A sort of punishment maybe, because if Messengers are souls of the deceased, could Messengers crampled into Crawlers or Winter Lanterns be somehow "failed" spirits? Ones that are yet still to "atone", or, in the case of Moon Presence, ones not taking part in the cycle of the Hunt for one reason or another?

(Retranslation script I always use: ( x ) Internal filenames: ( x ))

Hunters of Hunters had reasons to believe in "proper" burial that further connected to the Hunter's Dream, and Winter Lanterns are referred to be 'failed' Messengers! It might be extention of that fucked up concept of people being cursed for not being properly buried in the eyes of whatever God.

Doll and Gehrman both have interesting connection with the Nightmare Realm, too! Gehrman, strangely, shares the cry with Orphan of Kos, but even if that's to be blamed on simple reuse of assets he still more strangely feels relief after OoK is freed! Whatever prompted that link but who is to tell that spiritual connection with a Great One he helped to torture would not guarantee his own negative emotions helped to give "shape" to Nightmare? It is a lot of power, and the Doll is probably a horrible memory. Maybe the blood and guts' on the dress of Winter Lanterns is a reflection of his pain, memory of an innocent person he trained to be a ruthless murderer, thus ruining that soft version of her and... it didn't end well for Maria, did it?

Alllllright, and before I devolved into a crying cat meme- Doll, strangely, is asleep sometimes, which a doll should not... need? Meanwhile, we find Maria asleep too. I've always loved the idea of their spiritual connection where when one is asleep another is awake, and vice-versa! Ideally, Maria would die and be "reborn" within the Doll, in a way. Could be a spiritual thing of latching onto an object that resembles you (Doll also has Maria's brooch, boots and ribbon but in her hat now ( x )). Or could be Moon Presence's way to further "glorify" her as one of the greatest Hunters. Because, she is Flora of the Hunt. In any case, Kos said no, so Maria's soul is in two states... Winter Lanterns are amalgamation of the two, as well - a gentle singing woman in a dress, but also this dress is bloodied and the woman is aggressive, and don't forget Kin metamorphosis because both Maria and the Doll are close to Eldrich Horrors now!

I don't have much to elaborate on other options as they are much more self-explanatory! Paleblood Hunter wakes up without memories, so Doll could be the most striking person for them, but who is to tell other people would not see THEIR comfort person terribly distorted in Winter Lanterns' place? My personal opinion though is that heads of melted Messengers is a crucial part here.. but I think ALL variants could work so well that seeking 'logical' appeal is pointless ;-; It boils down to what feels more appealing, I suppose..