#with a character who is open about their emotions but also never ever smiles

[bisexualgenderclown]

genuinely obsessed with how harrowhark has exactly two (2) big viable ships and literally both of them follow the dynamic of

“gf who cannot credibly claim to have smiled for longer than 15 non-consecutive seconds in her entire life” x “gf who hasn’t lost her smug grin even once even when everything absolutely and objectively sucks ass for her all the time”

like harrow clearly has a type

[yesimwriting]

Normalcy

A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good

Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭

----

The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...

"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."

Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."

The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."

"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.

You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.

"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"

You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?

It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."

He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."

"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"

You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."

"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."

"Comforting."

He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."

"I lost my powers."

Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.

It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.

He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."

He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.

"Educated wish?"

His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."

Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"

In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.

"I never stabbed you."

His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."

He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."

"Well--"

He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."

"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"

There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."

You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."

You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.

"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."

Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."

You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.

You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.

You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.

The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.

Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.

He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.

You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.

"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.

Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.

You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."

He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"

Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."

Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"

"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"

He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."

You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.

You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."

His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.

"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."

After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.

You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.

"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."

Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."

You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."

He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.

You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.

You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."

He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."

An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.

"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."

There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."

You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.

[rottenomelet]

yandere jjk thoughts

warning:: nsfw! i’m eighteen and you should be too! hints of kidnapping, non-con, and coercion. nothing is ever really explicitly stated but - still.

a/n: there’s no real rhyme or reason behind this - winter is just my favorite time to snuggle up and read about crazy ppl. also i wrote this in lowercase originally so u see a spot i missed, no u didnt. u can leave requests for different characters if u wanna

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?” or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

But, beyond punishment, he is caring and quiet. He prefers it when you speak, likes it when you prattle on about your day or your favorite show. He likes it when you’re happy.

[hxnbi]

「 FALLING FOR YOU 」

synopsis: who fell first and who fell harder

characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuta

ITADORI YUJI ➽ he fell first, and he fell harder

Let's be honest, this poor boy has gone through so much. And to have someone who reciprocates his feelings? He felt like he was on cloud nine when he learned that you thought the same thing; "I love you too, Yuji." So much so that he made you repeat it again and again until he was forcefully pulled away by Megumi and Nobara, as you were too overwhelmed by Yuji's... several confessions?—practically busy exploding in joy yourself to configure another thought.

Nothing in the entire world could be better than being with you for the rest of his life, and he made sure that you knew that there were no doubts.

Whatever or whenever it was, Yuji was at your beck and call. You may as well have compared him to a golden retriever-like boyfriend, because that was exactly what it was. He was so incredibly touched that you reciprocated his feelings, so much so that he wanted you to know for sure that he was devoted to you and only you. And in that regard, he indeed succeeded.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ➽ you fell first, and you fell harder

No one, not Gojo, Yuji, Nobara, or even yourself—would've ever expected you to fall in love with such an aloof person, that person being the stone that is Fushiguro Megumi. Something that intrigued you from the moment you met him. It was shocking, and honestly, even refreshing, to see Megumi smiling. His stoic demeanour in saying practically anything, regardless of its seriousness, and his piercing, borderline terrifying gaze hid a plethora of emotions beneath that impassive tone of his, and try as you might, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

But as much as Megumi loved you, he also kept his distance from you. And that pained you to think that perhaps Megumi really didn't care about you as much as you thought—that is, until you realized the reason for why. He just didn't want you to be in danger. He tried to keep you far away from him, but for that reason alone, you found yourself falling harder and harder for the boy who had captured your heart. All that he did, the danger that he put himself under, was for you. And before you even knew it, you found yourself hopelessly in love with the person who had now become the centre of your world.

GOJO SATORU ➽ you fell first, and he fell harder

At first, it was just a tiny crush. Perhaps even a little more. Because, let's be real, who wouldn't be at least somewhat attracted to the strongest sorcerer? At first, that's what you thought. There was no way that someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru would pay attention to an average sorcerer like yourself, right? Wrong.

As Utahime and Megumi would say with utter conviction, Gojo can be an arrogant bastard at times. He's aloof, confident, and charismatic, but he's also just an individual—just an everyday human being. You were the one who truly understood him. You loved him for who he was—not for superficial reasons the rest of his world saw, but because he was a guy whose heart was genuine.

And he found himself falling for you, truly. He found himself loving and appreciating every part of you. To have someone so genuine, so open, unlike him, forced to view himself as merely "the strongest." He felt as though he could be weak around you. He fell hard for you and only you, and that would never change. Anything less would be a betrayal of your love.

OKKOTSU YUTA ➽ he fell first, and you both fell harder

I'd like to think that Yuta, for sure, has thoughts that he doesn't deserve to have you. So he stares from a distance. Everything that he did, the life that he lived, was cursed to a degree that nobody saw when he dared to acknowledge. He thought that you didn't deserve that. But even as he muttered those words to you that day, you looked at him—not with fear, not with disgust, not even with pity, but with sympathy and love.

His vulnerability, even when he was at his lowest, was undeniable. But that made you even more determined to help him—to be that person that Yuta could, for once in his life, lean on without reservation. His timid yet endearing personality drew you in, despite the darkness that surrounded him. But, unbeknownst to you, he had already fallen for you.

Yuta was enthralled, captivated—enchanted even—by all the kindness you showed him from the very moment he laid eyes on you. The way you would act like he was just an average person, regardless of the circumstances. He loved you for who you were, and you were the same.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[walpu]

[Kicks down door. Gets in. Fixes the door. Sits down and puts this on the table]

Aventurine x Halovian!reader, your honor.

Halovians, stars and icons across the universe. Shrewd, charismatic, and few can peer past their mysterious and elegant smiles. Not to mention the radiating frequencies of their halo can convey the nature of their thoughts in the form of telepathy.

Tldr: Aventurine can't decipher what's on their mind for shit unless they convey so.

Such beauty, such grace, but they will be a lost finch like it's another Tuesday. Despite the common knowledge that Halovians are stars and icons across the universe, they're more... Free and out in the wild (no responsibility to serve The Family, travels the cosmos alone, etc etc) and is unafraid to convey their emotions in another way.

Their wings would brush his face for giggles. When agitated they'd plop their head on a table and flap their wings, tapping the table rapidly, same goes with happiness. Although shrewd, and won't let anyone sense their true feelings they'd cup his face and give him smooches. Asking how's his day? Anything new happening? They brought something and he might've like it because it reminded them of him.

Their heart would sing with joy and mourn with his sadness. What did he do to score an angel such as them?

(Hmmm, cheese-)

- 🪽

I'm a blind rat and at first I misread Halovian as Heliobus and was like huh okay it's something to think about actually 😭

I really like the idea, it was fun to write!

Aventurine x Halovian!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluffy, a bit of a hurt/comfort, no beta

Okay first of all since Halovians quite literally can translate their thoughts and feelings to someone, not to mention how shrewd they are, I feel like Aven would have hard time relaxing around you at first. He is used to be the one who can see through people while hiding behind the nonchalant mask. And now not only he's the one being read like an open book, he also can't decipher you.

It's sort of a challenge for him at first. He learns to see even the smallest changes in the way you act, how your voice trembles ever so slightly, how your wings flap adorably when you experience intense emotions. He doesn't notice when he starts observing you not out of desire to protect himself but out of curiosity and then out of adoration.

Man he falls hard.

There's just something so precious to him how you never use your abilities against him. Yes it's a bare minimum but it's still something special to him okay.

He would absolutely adore your wings. Wouldn't touch them without your permission of course, but once he knows you're comfortable with this he always tries to caress them in some ways.

Would try to spread them carefully to admire them.

If you don't take offense in being compared to birds, he would give you some bird-relared nickname.

Someone on twitter pointed out that female Halovians have bigger wings but smaller hallows and it's the opposite for the male Halovians.

So he would pick a bird to nickname you after depending in the size of your wings lol

And if you think it would be some cute bird, then, well, you're not wrong, it's usually something endearing BUT he would NOT hesitate to call you his pigeon or pelican when he feels like teasing you.

While Aventurine never hides his origin and is, sadly, used to people's comments about him being an Avgin, it would still hit very differently when people would whisper about you, a Halovian, being with an Avgin. He usually doesn't say anything about it, just hiding behind his smile. Even if the mask cracks, showing obvious discomfort. Remember the face he made when Ratio brought up his origin? Yeah, this.

Please shut everyone up. Doesn't matter if you give them an unsettling biblically accurate angel looking ass smile and tell them to Be Quite or if you straight up tell them to stfu, just let Aven see that you are willing to defend him and your relationship.

Reassure him too. He will laugh softly and tell you that you worry too much, that he knows you love him, but he would still treasure your words.

Okay back to positive stuff, he would help you to groom your wings!!! Would learn all about it too. Please compliment his needy ass on his wing-grooming skills, he didn't sleep for the whole night trying to learn how to do it correctly.

Be ready for a lot of silly questions he asks just to pester you and get your attention.

"darling, my darling, and what would happen if you'd throw your hallow as a frisbee? would it come back?" "it's sharp enough to cut through rock, Aven". "ohhh, pretty but deadly, just how I like it~"

Adores it when you tickle his face with your wings, he always leans into the caress with the expression of a spoiled lapcat.

Would find it funny if you'd use your telepathy for silly things. Like he takes you to some business meeting with him or, on the country, you take him somewhere with you, and it's just boring as hell. So you sit there, smile mysteriously, all while telepathically whinig to Aventurine how this place sucks and how you hate all those people. It takes a lot for him not to laugh.

If you flap your wings during kisses then it's the end of him I fear.

[xxselenite]

٠ ࣪⭑ Leave behind all of Cupid's arrows and quivers | Jacaerys x reader

modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader [no use of y/n] Word count: 2.1k words Summary: You've had feelings for your best friend Jace for a while now and he has agreed to help you rehearse your lines for your theatre play, but things take an unexpected turn. Warning: none, pure fluff. If anything, reader is down bad and a little insecure a/n: The title and the play quoted is Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand. It's one of my favourite French plays and I absolutely encourage you to read it! This is also a very self-indulgent fic considering I've acted for eight years, don't mind me haha. English isn’t my first language so I apologise in advance for any possible grammatical and/or lexical mistake! feedback is welcome and appreciated <3 (images are taken from pinterest)

Sitting on the edge of your bed where you could catch the most sunlight, you skimmed through the script of the play until you reached a page covered in highlights and spiderly handwriting. The notes went from deep character analysis to little jokes written here and there and smiley faces drawn by your castmates.

“Alright, act three, scene six!” You declared, handing the paper to Jace who was lying on your bed by your side, his eyes half-open. He let go of the plushies he was playing with to grab your notes. “This is the second most iconic scene of the play, though I don’t have that many lines, so it should be quick,” you added.

Jace sat up and squinted to decipher the annotations on the page, a smile appearing on his face as he read the stupid puns you had found.

“You’re being super professional,” he rolled his eyes.

You chuckled. “You’re being unfair? I joined the theatre club for funsies, I did not expect to land this role.” Your face twisted into a scowl. “Most of the things I write in there are useful though. I don’t want to act like a killjoy so others don’t think I’m annoying, but I still want to prove I was the right person to cast for Roxane.”

Jace lowered the script to look at you and passed his hand in his hair to put it back into place. “You do deserve that,” he told you with a gentle tone and you tried to repress the butterflies in your stomach his praise and soft gaze had created, cursing yourself internally. You had never wanted to develop feelings for your best friend in the first place, you knew it was a bad idea, but it was too late now. Love was there, deeply rooted in the daydreams in which he kissed you during the golden hour, when your bedroom was bathed in light.

Falling in love with Jace was as easy as breathing. Of course, he was handsome, but it was not just a shallow little crush. He was nice, and sweet, and funny. He cared about you and listened to you when you needed to. He gave you good advice but knew when you just needed comfort. He had been there for you when you were at your lowest and no one else was there. He had the cutest smile ever and gave the best hugs. The list went on and on, anything he did was just making you fall a little harder.

But this love, sweet as honey, was also as sticky and sickening. You indulged in the sweet moments when he hugged you or complimented you, but it also made you feel guilty and, well, desperate. You were convinced this love could only be one-sided – Jace was perfect, everyone at your high school liked him. And you were… you. You knew each other since you were kids, there was no way he would ever see you as something more than a friend. And you were relatively okay with this, you would rather keep being this close to him without anything more than risk losing it all.

Perhaps your turmoil of emotions appeared on your face, or it was just Jace’s ability to read you like an open book, but he frowned and asked you if you were okay. You immediately regained your composure to answer in a way you hoped was natural.

“Yes, I was just thinking it must be pretty boring for you to help me rehearse my lines. We don’t have to do the whole play today. We don’t even need to do the whole thing, I can finish on my own.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have said I’d help you if it bothered me. It’s fun actually, and you’re a great actress.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and cleared your throat.

“I try my best! Although this is one of the scenes that scares me a bit.”

“Why so?”

“Okay, so this scene is with the love triangle between Christian, Cyrano and Roxane. You know the story, Christian is handsome but a bit dumb, Cyrano is ugly but quick-witted and a great speaker, and they both want Roxane. Cyrano decides to aid his buddy Christian and hides and prompts Christian who talks to Roxane under her balcony.”

“A balcony scene, like in Romeo and Juliet?”

“Precisely. But at some point, Cyrano starts talking instead of Christian and makes a beautiful declaration to Roxane because this is at night and she can’t see him. As I said, Roxane has very few lines but you see her falling for who she thinks Christian is, and I have to make this very clear to the audience.”

It’s not going to be hard to pretend that with you… You thought to yourself, looking away from the boy.

Jace nodded thoughtfully, reading the first lines of the scene again.

“Alright, where am I supposed to stand?” He asked you, looking up again.

“I guess I could get up on my bed and you go in front of me, on the floor? This way I’ll be a bit above, like with a balcony?”

The boy followed your indications and helped you find your balance on your bed. You weren’t used to this angle and seeing his eyes from above made you melt. You knew that they were beautiful, blessed with thick eyelashes you were jealous of, but it was like you were discovering them for the first time.

Once you could stand comfortably, Jace started the scene, changing his voice and attitude for Cyrano and Christian. His way of acting both characters earned a chuckle from you.

“Am I doing this wrong?” He briefly interrupted, shooting you a worried glance.

“Not at all, you’re nailing it! You should have joined the company, it would have been fun.”

“I’m not sure it would have been a good idea if I made you break character.”

“I’m much more professional on a stage than in the privacy of my bedroom.”

“If you say so…” He smirked before continuing the scene, and you thought you’d do anything to frame this moment and keep it forever. The warm afternoon light, the slight breeze, the smell of your vanilla candle, everything about it was perfect, like out of a fairytale.

Your first line, “Who calls me?” came out a bit trembling when you met Jace’s intense gaze, and you forced yourself to look away, reminding yourself that Roxane could not see her interlocutor, let alone lose herself in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you focused and the following lines went swiftly.

But as the scene progressed and Cyrano’s declarations got gradually passionate, it became harder and harder for you to put your feelings aside. You repeated yourself that it was all acting and that Jace was, unfortunately for you, a very talented actor. Everything, from the tone of his voice to the way he looked at you, made him look like an enamoured boy, and a specific line acted as the final nail in the coffin.

“I love you! I am mad! I am suffocating with love for you! Your name rings in my heart like a bell. When I think of you, I tremble, and the bell shakes and rings out your name! Everything you do I love! I remember every action of yours that I ever witnessed! I know that last year on the twelfth of May, you changed the way you wore your hair. I am so used to taking your hair for daylight itself that, just as one stares at the sun and sees a red blot on all things, when I turn away after looking at you, I see a radiant image imprinted on everything!”

You closed your eyes as he finished speaking and clenched your fists as you whispered your answer, opening your eyes again

“Yes, this is love.”

You knew Roxane was supposed to be in a sort of emotional turmoil at this moment and that your reaction, if a bit excessive, was not out of character, counting on that fact not to attract Jace’s attention. Yet, his gaze softened and he frowned a little to show his concern, but you nodded to tell him to keep going. This was another thing you cherished about your relationship with him; he could understand you without needing any word.

With a little hesitation, he continued the scene, but from this moment on, his eyes did not leave your frame on the edge of the bed, towering over him but looking so fragile. He walked a little closer to the edge of the bed, as if he was expecting you to faint and wanted to catch you.

You reached the climax of the scene a few minutes later. You knew it was coming from the beginning, the moment where Christian, high on enthusiasm to see Roxane fall in love, asks for a kiss. The kiss does not happen in the scene, Cyrano backtracks, but the demand creates an immediate tension in the scene. Yes, you knew it was coming. Nevertheless, when you Jace said “a kiss,” it felt like a punch in your guts. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, God knew what you would have given to kiss them just once, for a second.

Your brain was moving slowly, like it was underwater, and you couldn’t find your next line. No matter how hard you tried to remember it, your mind was blank, all you could do was stare at him in awe. When your eyes left his lips after what seemed to be an eternity, he was looking at you, his face a few centimetres away from yours. You could see every detail on his skin and smell the faint fragrance of his cologne.

You blinked, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were on yours. They were soft, and warm, and a little hesitant. You returned the kiss without even realising it, lips parting and hands flat against his chest while his own hands found your hips and held you still to prevent you from falling from your bed.

Jace broke the kiss, too quickly in your opinion, but it had been enough to tie the wires in your brain even tighter and the only thing that you managed to blurt out was a pathetic: “This isn’t in the script.”

Your best friend chuckled, still holding you. His touch was gentle but it was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I really hope the look on your face is surprise and not pure horror.” He said, and you sensed the nervousness behind his light-hearted tone. You hadn’t even realised your eyes were open wide. You shook your head and carefully grabbed Jace’s hands, keeping them between your two bodies.

“Why did you kiss me, Jace?” You made sure that your voice was soft and your question genuine, so that he couldn’t interpret it as a blame.

The boy seemed to be taken aback for a split second and looked for reassurance in your eyes, which he seemed to find as he licked his lips and answered.

“Cyrano’s words. They’re mine. I mean, they’re not exactly mine, they’re way more eloquent than I can be. But what they say matches what I feel. This whole scene, it’s… It’s acting, but it’s not. I mean it.” He started fidgeting with your fingers. “I’ve been feeling like this for a little while now I think, but I’ve never really admitted it to myself.”

“What changed then?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe the fact you joined the theatre club? You’re so radiant when you talk about it, let alone when you’re on stage. You- you shine like a star in the night, and I realised I loved you more than a friend, I was just too scared to do anything, because losing you would be worse.”

You let a nervous laugh escape your lips and Jace seemed startled by the crystalline sound.

“Oh Jace,” you sighed, “we are so ridiculous. I’ve been feeling the very same thing for months, and I was standing there letting the fear devour me.”

“Seriously?” The word slipped out of Jace’s mouth in a whisper which you barely caught and you nodded in the same discreet, almost secretive way.

You kept quiet for a little while, gazing into each other’s eyes. Outside, the birds were chirping in the garden. The rumble of the cars was echoing from the more active parts of the cities. The breeze was causing the curtains to flow at a low rhythm. And you two felt like the only people in the world.

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work (rc)(3)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

(not canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

chapter 3 summary: the after effects of Topper's party. I'll leave it at that.

warnings: rafe is pissing me off.

2.4k words, basically unedited.

1 2 3

chapter 3: why

...

Topper's party ends with you, Stella, and Macey walking back over to your house after the vast majority of the crowd had dissipated. All who remained there ended up crashing somewhere in the great unknown of Topper's parent's estate.

You wake up in your bed next to a snoring Macey and an already awake Stella, who greets you with a soft smile and your water bottle. You sit up.

"Thanks," you whisper, careful to not wake Macey. You take a few sips of your water, not realizing how thirsty you actually were. "what time is it?" you ask.

"only 8" Stella responds, which prompts you to lay back down (dramatically) and open your phone.

You are met with 11 messages from Topper from last night.

...

top

yoooooo wya??

sent 1:28am

yn. are you here

sent 1:31am

did you fr go home?

sent 1:32am

omfg I see ur light on.

sent 1:32am

you actual pos

sent 1:32am

kelce and rafe are asking where you guys went

sent 1:36am

they say they're coming over

sent 1:37am

I told them not to. why did you leave?

sent 1:41am

what's wrong.

sent 1:45am

pls respond.

sent 1:46am

ok gn then. dont be mad.

sent 2:19am

...

You sigh. Stella shoots a questioning look your way before you show her your phone and she understands.

Macey stirs, though it is much too early yet for her to arise. She hums in her sleep, probably to tell you guys to be quiet.

"what do I even say to all this?" you ask, nobody answers, but you didn't really need an answer. You knew that you would explain to Topper that you and the girls just needed a girls night, but you also knew that he wouldn't buy it for a second.

You respond to Topper, and ask if he would want to meet you at the club for lunch, somewhat disregarding his messages but knowing he would force you into talking about last night somehow. Topper may not be the brightest, but he is much more in tune with emotions than someone might think. He says yes to lunch, and you turn your phone off, satisfied with the way you bought yourself a few more hours.

You think about the best way to approach the subject with Topper. Because 'hey me and the girls don't like that beautiful girl that you and the boys hangout with and we want you all to ourselves because it works better that way' doesn't seem like the right thing to say. Topper texts you again, asking if you could do coffee and bagels instead. You take a minute to respond though you know you'll say yes anyway. You were hungry and did need a hangover-curing coffee, as did your girls, you were sure.

You reply a nonchalant 'sure' to Topper before telling Stella your plans and that you'll bring her and Macey back their faves. Topper offered to drive, so you begin your walk to his house.

As you open the fence and walk through, you see Rafe's truck pulling out of the driveway with Amber in the passenger seat. You have to stifle a reaction, but you did not expect to see Rafe and Amber interact ever again. Rafe was usually a one-night kind of guy, not a one-night and drive you home the morning after kind of guy.

You had heard your fair share of Rafe's escapades in your group's conversations, but nobody in the group ever seemed phased to hear about anyone else's hookup stories.

Though, there was the one time that you shared a story that the boys, and especially Rafe, were not fond of.

You had just turned 17, and had all begun the night drinking your beverages of choice and hanging out in Kelce's room, if you could even call it that. Kelce's parents only had one kid, and they let him have free reign of their finished basement. So, as you all sprawled on the various couches and chairs there was conversation flowing aimlessly throughout the group.

Though, you started out talking to the girls (who prompted you) about your recent endeavors with a boy named John, the boys begun listening after they realized the topic of conversation. You were never entirely open with the boys about your personal life, so they were completely intrigued with the conversation.

You paused partway through your long story before realizing that the three nosy boys on the other side of the room had stopped their conversation to listen to you. You laughed, saying a quick "stop listening!" before rolling your eyes and turning back to the girls. When you saw that the boys had no intention of stopping their listening, you turned back to them and didn't speak.

"Oh come on, yn, we never get to hear about this stuff!" Kelce begins, raising his eyebrows and giving you a look to try to persuade you to continue.

"Yeah, yn, you know all about our lives, how come we rarely get to know about yours?" Topper chimes in, agreeing with Kelce's sentiment. Rafe is quiet, not sure if he wants to hear what you are going to say, but his gaze on you is intent, almost silently willing you to continue talking.

"Ugh. Okay. Well..." you begin, without really knowing how to continue. All you had really told the girls was that you had hooked up with John Townsend, the boy whose parents were the sole contributors of the Kildare Yacht Club. But, the boys hadn't been listening to who, all they heard was that you had hooked up with someone.

"Go on..." Macey says, hoping her prompting will elicit a reaction out of you.

"We've just hooked up a few times. It's not that big of a deal." You spit out finally, waiting to see what your friends will say.

"A few times?!?" Stella nearly yells. "I thought it was only the one time at his house?" She finishes, waiting for you to say something. Before you can, Macey interrupts.

"His house?!? I thought it was only at the..." she starts before glancing at the boys, "...you know where I thought it was." she finished meekly. The boys erupt in a series of "what"s and "no way"s, turning to you for an explanation.

You laugh and cover your face with your hands, your cheeks turning a shade of red that you didn't even know existed before now. The boys are all slack jawed and waiting for you to talk.

"Oh what? Like you all haven't had your fair share of hookups??" You start, "why is this so crazy?"

"because its YOU, yn. You've never told us about this stuff before, even when we ask!" Topper says, still bewildered. You look between the boys. Rafe seemingly deep in thought, Kelce wide eyed, and Topper's mouth still hanging open.

You begin to defend yourself before you are cut off by Rafe asking "Who is this guy?" and that's when you realize that they hadn't been listening the whole time. Topper and Kelce hum to show that they also want to know. You look over at Stella and Macey, both of whom are making faces at you to show that maybe you shouldn't tell the boys who this mystery man is that you've hooked up with more than one time.

"Ummmmmmm..." you start, not intending to share with them.

"Fine. If you don't want to share, we'll just got through your phone and find out ourselves." Topper says, lunging toward your phone with an open hand.

You protest, holding it out of reach. Some semblance of a fight ensues, the girls trying to keep them away and the boys pushing through (to the best of their ability without trampling a bunch of 17 year old girls) to get to your phone.

"FINE!" you finally shout, stopping the fight. "If you really want to know that bad... it was John Townsend." You finish.

Rafe is the first to speak. "What?" He says plainly.

"Did you really not hear me?" you say.

"no, I think I heard you. I just- what??" he finally answers.

You look at the rest of the group, the girls looking relieved but worried, and the other boys looking somewhat the same as Rafe.

"What's the problem with John?" you ask innocently.

"What's the problem? Yn what's NOT the problem?" Kelce begins before Topper finishes his sentence.

"Yeah, yn, that guy is bad news. His parents might be hot shit in Kildare, but he's a weirdo. Especially for younger girls, like you." Topper says, not intending to hurt you with his words, but they do sting a little.

Rafe is still silent, and you look to him to say something. He avoids your gaze, waiting for the other boys to be done.

"I think they just mean that you should be careful, yn" Stella begins, trying to fix the tension in the room.

"No, Stel, we mean that she shouldn't be so stupid to fuck around with a dirty loser like that guy." Rafe finally speaks up, and his words hurt you the most. "I mean really, yn. Be serious right now."

You're on the verge of tears, not expecting to be belittled in front of your only friends.

"Alright that's enough dumbass." Macey says. "She's allowed to do whatever she wants and doesn't need approval from anyone, especially not you idiots."

You give her a small smile. You're not sure why Rafe's words affected you that much. You all are silent for a moment before conversation restarts. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to get your bearings back.

Stella and Macey follow not long after you, and soon you are all on the bathroom floor. They begin explaining to you that the boys were just being stupid and protective like they always were, and that it just got out of hand. You agreed, and soon everything was back to normal. But, you had always thought about that moment before beginning to share something with your friends from that moment on.

Overall, the relationships of your friends were private from your friend group. In a way, all of your most important relationships were with each other. So why would you want that to change? Nobody ever really had serious relationships anyway, and you all liked it that way. At least you thought you all liked it that way.

Soon after you see Rafe and Amber leave, Topper comes out of the house and sees you leaning against the passenger door of his Jeep.

He gives you a small smile before unlocking his car. You open the passenger door and get in.

Topper climbs into the driver's seat right after you. "Coffee first or bagels?" he asks, avoiding the obvious awkwardness between the two of you.

"Bagels, probably? I'm gonna get coffee for the girls too, don't want it to melt," you reply easily, since conversation with Topper has always come naturally for you. Topper nods, turning up the music that was playing and rolling down the windows.

The drive to get bagels was short, short enough that neither of the two of you had tried to initiate conversation, but long enough that the awkwardness began to brew. After getting bagels, you buckled yourself in and felt the rumble of the engine, but Topper didn't shift the car to begin driving.

You knew that leaving early normally wouldn't have been a big deal for other people. Especially since you lived right next door, it makes sense to sleep in your own bed after a party instead of cramming into one person's house. But, the six of you always stayed, and if you didn't, you wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

"So," Topper begins, "what's up with you?" he says, not necessarily intending to blame you for leaving early, but maybe he knew it was your idea to leave.

"What do you mean?" you challenge, hoping he will give you some information before you explain yourself.

"I don't know, it's just weird that you guys left yesterday," he says, pausing to take in your reaction. You nod with him, understanding why he would be upset about it. "Why did you leave without telling us? I mean, we know you live right there, but that's just never happened before. We were kinda worried... Rafe suggested showing up to your house and then Kelce wanted to go with him, but I figured we should just leave you guys be." At the mention of Rafe, your ears perk up. Why had he of all people suggested going over? Wasn't he preoccupied with Amber?

"Yeah, I know we should've told you we left," you say honestly, feeling bad that you left him high and dry. "Honestly," you begin, and Topper is now staring at you, "we were just not exactly feeling it, it was kind of a weird vibe outside with you guys... and Amber... and I don't know, we just figured we would go back to mine kinda early," you pause, seeing Topper's gaze soften. "I'm really sorry though, Top. You know I didn't mean to leave you like that. We aren't mad at you, the vibe was just off and we felt weird still being there." you finish.

"Okay... well if that's really it, and you're not mad, then we are all good. We just don't want to mess around with a mad yn, or a mad Macey, for that matter." You laugh, glad to have been able to dance around the point enough to satisfy Topper's craving for an answer from you.

The two of you finish your coffee run and come back to your house to a wide awake Stella and Macey awaiting your arrival.

"Finally!" Macey says dramatically, as if she hadn't woken up ten minutes prior.

"I think she means 'thank you'" Stella explains while helping you with their drinks.

"You're welcome," you respond, and Topper trails in behind you. After the two of you made up, you figured you might as well invite him in for breakfast.

After the four of you eat together, a notification from your group chat lights up your phone.

...

rafe

ward not home. druthers today at 12?

...

Kelce has already responded 'yes' and the four of you are in agreement as well. Today was going to be a day on the boat. You were hopeful that this would be able to mend the crack slowly forming in the group of the six of you.

But, your hopes were soon crushed when you arrived to the Druthers and see Rafe and Amber awaiting your arrival.

You look at the girls, and they're already looking at you. You sigh, shrug, and hope that you all can make the best out of the day ahead of you.

🏷️list: @flvredcas @rafesno1bae @kiiyomei @silkylovey @girlwedontcare @sunny1616 @asterizee @pillowprincess4him @patychieffi @rafeslittleangel @anightlikethisss @drewsdirtyslut @mattyskies @theyluvmesblog @gothamgirl2024 @ujws5 @kmhbygss @kaiparkerwifes

a/n: hope you all keep enjoying! sorry for huge delay in posting. ill be back hopefully for a while!

[erzva]

big fan of pussy drunk ! luffy..

. . .

its canon to me idk

like if your brain doesn’t register this as canon or something that’s very in character for luffy you’re just wrong

although i do also definitely see him as aroace or think he could be aroace

but if i were to strictly hc him as aroace it wouldn’t really be any fun for me, a luffy lover.

so i also see him as someone who loves sex. not in a weird way. he just loves you and making you feel good. and feeling good himself. + it’s so fun. everyone knows luffy is weak to things that are fun. idk i just think he would enjoy sex a lot with the person he loves.

or i can honestly also see him being aromantic but pansexual. and just liking sex as an activity. he’s a very active kid so, again, i think he would enjoy sex. bc sex can be fun and intimate and enjoyable

like there’s no way he wouldn’t wanna try it. he loves trying new things. you’re telling me he wouldn’t go feral after his first time with you? you opened his mind to something new and very fun

he’ll be asking for sex all the time now.

this man is mischievous and annoying. he does whatever he sets his mind to

so there’s not really telling him no.

ofc he won’t force you

but he’s exceptionally skilled at getting people to do whatever he wants.

he’ll make you come around sooner or later

because once he’s set on wanting to bury his cock into your warm cunt, he won’t stop until he gets to do it

he will start whining and begging if you don’t give him what he wants right away

especially if you give a lame excuse like “the others will hear” or “what if someone walks in”. if you pull any of tha, he knows he can be annoying and pushy.

but he also knows when you’re serious about your ‘excuses’ or “no’s” so he’d just drop it and opt for the second best thing in the world after meat: you. touching you, hugging you, clinging to you.

bc even if he can’t have sex with you, which is always so much fun and feels good- he doesn’t mind because it’s not important to him. being with you is enough

and honestly you were only truly against having sex very rarely. like when you were feeling unwell or it was an unfitting moment or whatnot. but you liked having him work for it. because you know that eventually he’ll start being whiny and desperate. oh and how you loved desperate luffy. begging with his big dark chocolate brown eyes.. and whining into your ear while rubbing himself on you, trying to hide what’s going on by disguising it as a hug so it doesn’t look too suspicious to your poor crewmates who unfortunately already know what he’s doing anyway..

until you finally give in and give him what he wants only for him to give you the biggest most genuine sunshine smile ever. his eyes widening at you giving him the go. it’s probably what you love most about him. his smile and how his entire face lights up..

however when it’s just the two of you in the captains chambers his expression turns dark and serious very fast. usually with a hint of mischief but not always. he can be very serious in moments like this too. you made him wait long enough. no time for silliness

there’s two types of pussydrunk ! luffy

he goes feral and it’s messy, chaotic and desperate. fast and rough, anything to get the two of you to reach climax.

slow loving sensual passionate sex. the kind of sex that really shows how much you love one another. the kind everyone dreams about. it feels good and it’s emotional

whenever he just wants to have fun and feel good, he’ll opt for the first version. the kissing would be hungry, passionate and desperate. he’ll be kissing and sucking on your neck and groping you harshly to get you wet. he’s impatient and just wants to cum deep inside of you. but not before he gets to lap at your delicious cunt. first things first. luffy never starts penetration without getting you nice and wet with his tongue beforehand.

but when he’s feeling sappy and emotional and loving the sex would be very sensual. but not necessarily slow. you still wanna cum after all. but the foreplay would be a lot more soft and gentle and he would take his time with you. kissing you everywhere thoroughly and massaging your flesh.

he doesnt only get pussydrunk for his cock inside your cunt though

he also gets pussy drunk when eating you out

oftentimes wanting to go more than one round

usually sex with him includes making out heavily, him eating your cunt, penetration / you grinding on him / you giving him a hand or blowjob- and then him eating you out again.

he is a MUNCH. he’s gonna be all up in your pussy

i mean he loves eating and never cared about what he looks like while eating (which is usually very chaotic and dirty) so you bet he’s gonna be just as messy when it comes to you and your cunt

he buries his face so deep in your pussy it’s overstimulating sometimes because he doesn’t stop once you cum. he stops when he wants to stop

sex isn’t sex without him getting a taste of you

and he oftentimes only wants to eat your pussy

keyword being “eat” bc it really does feel like he’s eating you alive (in the best most fulfilling way possible)

craziest head game in the entire op universe

he eats you out before going to sleep a lot. ‘helps him sleep better’ he claims

but he also wants to eat you out when he wakes up

he’s still groggy and tired and not really awake at all so he asks you to let him burry his face in your sweet warm cunt so he can ‘have a good day’ and also because it ‘helps him become more awake’

sure..

maybe you really do help him that way.. or maybe they’re mostly cheap excuses

and usually him being pussydrunk on eating you out leads to him wanting to burry his cock inside of you

because licking and tasting you is just so arousing. it makes him so hard and needy, always rutting his hips into the mattress while his tongue’s all over you. you taste like nothing he’s ever tasted before and he can’t get enough of it. he loves smelling and tasting your pussy. it makes him desperate, whiny and feral

you are never left feeling unsatisfied with luffy as your man

. . .

[modmad]

Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.

I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.

I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.

woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.

tw for suicidal thoughts and all that

yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.

My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)

On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.

I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao

Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.

also fuck Mr Puzzles

[larluce]

I had an idea for a Post canon merthur AU!!

I don't know if you have seen Sakura Card Captor? Well, there is a character called Yukito that has double personality/two alter egos. One that is a regular human being with sunshine personality called Yukito and the other that is a literal Angel/powerful creature that is cold and merciless called Yue. The interesting thing about this character is that, while Yue is aware that Yukito exists and can access to Yukito's memories, Yukito doesn't have the same privilege. Yukito, as far as he knows, he is just a regular teen student that sometimes has mental gaps.

So I wondered, what if Merlin, due to all the trauma he went through or maybe through a spell he did to himself, splited his personality in two so he could handle the long wait for Arthur's return better? One would be Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived that also incarnates the worst aspects of him, basically Dark Merlin in all his glory, and the other one would be a Merlin without his memories, ergo, without all his traumas, his personality would be series 1 innocent Merlin, but this Merlin doesn't have magic (or rather he has it, but is blocked) and he thinks he is a common mortal man.

So one night Arthur finally returns and it's Merlin who finds him when he comes out of the lake (Emrys made sure Merlin always lived close to the lake). Of course, he's startled an somewhat scared but a feeling inside him urges him to help this stranger. The man is wearing a knight armor and talks old english for some reason. (Merlin never thought his extra studies in old english that he took for fun would actually come on handy). The man only says nonesense as he helps him out of the lake and takes him to his home thought. Apparently the stranger firmly believes he is King Arthur and that he is Merlin the wizard. He has to repeat him several times that he isn't, but they do share the name though.

Merlin: (gives Arthur a change of clothes and says in old english) Here. These are the biggest clothes I have. They might fit you and I put some blankets on the couch for you to sleep.

Arthur: (doesn't take the clothes and just stares at him)...

Merlin: (thinking he didn't speak the language correctly) I said-

Arthur: (heartbroken) You really don't remember me, do you?

Merlin: (sighs) No. I don't know you. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (almost desperate) You do! I don't know what they did to you or what happened to this place, but I'm going to figure it out. I promise!

Merlin: (smiles) Sure you will. (Thinks) He must have some mental affliction, poor man. (Says as he leaves the clothes on the couch) I'll get you some hot chocolate. (Makes a move to go to the kitchen, but has a sudden headache and faints)

Arthur: Merlin! (Runs and catches him before he hits the floor, worried) Merlin, are you alright? Please, wake up! Merlin (shakes him)

Emrys: (opens his eyes that are glowing gold) My king (his eyes water) You are back. (Craddles Arthur's face)

So Emrys explains his condition to Arthur and also that 1500 years have passed and there's probably a catastrophy coming their way since Arthur is now back and all. Obviously, it's a lot to process for Arthur and he doesn't take it all well at first, but he calms down and accepts everything eventually. Arthur can't help but notice this version of Merlin,despite crying for him at the beginning, seems void of emotion most of the time.

Emrys does a spell on Arthur so he can speak modern english and tells him he will switch back to being Merlin soon.

Emrys: (serious) You can tell him you were delirious due to almost drowning or that you had some mental affliction. He already believes that anyways.

Arthur: I'm not going to lie to him, Merlin.

Emrys: I'm not Merlin. He IS Merlin and he's not going to believe you are King Arthur.

Arthur: Why can't you stay like this?

Emrys: I'm too dangerous when I'm in control for too long. Merlin is harmless and can actually be your friend.

Arthur: You are my friend!

Emrys: (coldly) No, Arthur. I'm your weapon, your protector at best, but nothing more.

Arthur: I don't believe that!

Merlin: Believe what you want. (Turns his back to Arthur)

Arthur: And I won't lie to him either!

Merlin: Tell him what you want (Eyes glowing, about to switch)

Arthur: Mer-I mean Emrys! (Stops him by holding his arm and Enrys turns to him) When will I see you again?

Emrys: When I'm needed or when you call me. Don't abuse though. Merlin might get suspicious if he has too many mental gaps. (Switchs back to Merlin and faints again)

Arthur: (catches him before he hits the floor) This better not become an habit.

Time goes by. Merlin still believes Arthur is crazy, but at least he speaks english now. Merlin does find strange the Arthur has no document, nor he is register in the sistem apparently. Merlin doesn't have the heart to get this "King Arthur" out of his house though, since he clearly has no where to go so Merlin lets him stay. Not for free of course, he makes Arthur help with the cleaning and stuff and doesn't stand for prat behavior when Arthur acts all kingly.

Arthur gets why Emrys told him this Merlin was his Merlin despite him not having his memories or his magic. He is clumsy, he jokes, he smiles, calls him out when he's being mean, but also is there for him when he needs him. Is the Merlin he knew but more... happy. Without burdens of destiny or traumas of the past.

Meanwhile Emrys just appears when they are investigating or when there is danger coming their way, like a magical creature attack or a car Arthur failed to see when he crossed the street. Emrys never smiles or small talks, he just goes to the point and gets the job done. He is dark, but overall he is... broken.

Arthur heart eaches when he realises... he is the one who took Merlin's light. He was the one who broke him.

And that's all I have for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU. What do you think?

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! -18

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Warning: Tragedy, Angst, Manipulation, Intimidation

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Everything related to Celestial Enterprises has fallen to the ground. Once a conglomerate company, now it’s just a name.

You watch everything on the TV beside Cassandra's bed. She’s still weak since the incident. Reading the headlines about Celestial, you say, “We won, Grandma. Wish you could see it.”

Then the door opens, and Bucky comes in with flowers in his hand. He smiles at you, “How is she?”

You glance at Cassandra and sigh, “Every time I come by, she gets tired easily and falls asleep. But the nurse and doctor said she’s getting better.”

Bucky nods, understanding all too well. He went through the same phase—his trauma triggered, and he got drowned in his nightmares again.

“Give her a moment,” Bucky says gently.

He steps closer, placing the flowers in a vase on the bedside table. You notice the care in his actions, the way he adjusts the petals so they look just right. It’s a small gesture, but it means the world in a place like this.

“Have you eaten?” Bucky asks, turning his attention back to you.

“No,” you admit, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on your shoulders.

“Then let’s get something to eat,” he suggests, his tone leaving no room for argument. He offers his hand, and you take it, grateful for the support. You glance at his hand, noting the absence of gloves. The gesture strikes you—evidence that he’s moved past his trauma.

As both of you leave the room, you take one last look at Cassandra. The door closes softly behind you. Unseen by you, Cassandra’s eyes flutter open. She clenches the blanket with her hand, her grip strong and determined.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

At the Hospital

All the hard work that Jonathan has poured into Celestial Enterprises has come to nothing. Losing the company has shattered his soul more than losing Ophelia ever did. The company was his life, the reason why he breathed.

It doesn’t stop there. It turns out his wife, Genevieve, is related to a criminal mastermind who kidnapped Bucky. Not only is he bankrupt, but he also married a woman with a criminal past. Genevieve is on her knees, tears streaming down her face as she begs for his forgiveness.

“I had no part in it,” she sobs. “I didn’t know.”

Jonathan, still stuck in the hospital bed, looks at her with pure disdain. “You’re disgusting.”

Genevieve’s heart sinks. The only person in this world who could help her is him. She doesn’t understand why she’s connected to Bucky’s kidnapping. She wasn’t involved at all. Victoria is gone, and all their assets are frozen because of the bankruptcy.

She has no friends left to ask for help. The socialites who once fawned over her now shun her. Desperation clings to her like a second skin as she looks around the sterile hospital room, searching for a lifeline.

“You have to believe me,” Genevieve pleads, her voice breaking. “I didn’t know about Bucky. I never would have—”

Jonathan interrupts her, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “You’re nothing but a parasite. I should have seen it from the start. You latched onto me, thinking you could rise above your sordid past. But you’ve dragged me down into the mud with you.”

Genevieve’s eyes widen in shock and anger. “How dare you? After everything I’ve done for you, for this family?”

Jonathan sneers. “Done for me? You’ve done nothing but ruin everything you touch. You’re a cancer, Genevieve. And now, because of you, everything I’ve built is gone.”

Her hands shake with fury and desperation. “You think you’re so perfect? You think you’re blameless in all this? All of this happened because of your daughter!"

Jonathan’s eyes flash with anger. “Get out. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

Genevieve’s vision blurs with rage and hurt. In a moment of blind fury, she grabs a syringe from the nearby tray and stabs it into Jonathan’s chest. He gasps, eyes wide with shock and pain.

A nurse, who just entered to check on Jonathan, sees the attack and screams, “Security! Help!”

Genevieve looks at the horror-struck nurse, then at Jonathan, whose eyes are starting to glaze over. Panic takes over. She pulls the syringe out and drops it, her hands covered in blood.

Without thinking, she bolts from the room, running through the hospital corridors. Alarms blare, and footsteps echo as security personnel rush to intercept her.

Genevieve’s mind races as she runs, knowing she has nowhere to go and no one left to turn to. The life she once knew is in ruins, and now she’s on the run, a fugitive from the consequences of her own desperation and rage.

The news traveled fast, and you soon heard that Jonathan got hurt again, this time because of his own wife. “Wow, karma,” you muttered under your breath.

You touched your grandma's hand, still resting as she slept. “He got what he deserved. Now all that's left is that woman.”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was a call from the hospital. Answering it, you heard the voice of Jonathan’s doctor on the other end.

“Your father is in a coma,” the doctor said gravely.

You felt a surge of emotions but quickly composed yourself. Before leaving, you kissed Cassandra’s forehead gently. “I’ll be back soon, Grandma,” you whispered.

Arriving at the hospital, you walked through the sterile corridors to Jonathan’s room. The sight of him, lifeless and hooked up to machines, brought a strange mix of satisfaction and pity.

You leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “All those years, you ignored me, abandoned me. Now look at you. Helpless. Everything you built is gone. Your wife betrayed you, your company is ruined, and your precious Victoria is gone. This is the end for you. You did this to yourself.”

You let the words sink in, hoping he could somehow hear the pain and anger you had been carrying for so long. After you finished, you straightened up, feeling a strange sense of closure.

Just then, your phone rang again. This time, it was the nurse from Cassandra’s care facility.

“Your grandmother is missing,” the nurse said, her voice frantic.

“What? How could she go missing?” you exclaimed, panic rising in your chest.

You hurried out of the hospital, trying to think where she could have gone. The streets seemed to blur as you drove, your mind racing with worry and fear.

“Where could she be?” you whispered, hoping for a miracle.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Genevieve went to Valerie's studio to hide and to find the secret stash of money she had hidden there. She needed it to run away, to call in old favors for a new identity and passport. As she hurriedly prepared to leave, her hands shaking with a mix of fear and desperation, a pair of scissors fell, landing perilously close to her fingers.

“Oops. My hand slipped,” came a cold, calm voice.

Genevieve shrieked, her eyes widening in horror as she saw Cassandra standing in front of her, a chilling smile on her face.

“Hii!!!” Genevieve shrieked, shocked to the core.

Cassandra’s eyes were icy and piercing. “You’ve taken my daughter’s life, stolen the childhood of my granddaughter. Now it’s your turn to live in hell.”

Genevieve backed away, trembling. “You…you’re crazy!” she stammered.

Cassandra stepped closer, her voice steady and unyielding. “You ruined everything. Jonathan was a fool to fall for you, but you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Genevieve tried to muster some defiance. “Jonathan loved me!”

Cassandra laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “Love? You don’t know the meaning of the word. You manipulated him, tore our family apart, and for what? Power? Money?”

Genevieve's face twisted in anger. “You can’t do this to me! I won’t let you!”

In a swift motion, Cassandra slapped Genevieve across the face. “Aww,” Genevieve whimpered, holding her stinging cheek. She couldn’t believe this old woman had the nerve to strike her, and the fact that Cassandra’s expression remained unchanged was even more unsettling.

Now Genevieve understood where your temperament came from. Not from Jonathan, or even from your late mother, but from Cassandra.

“You won’t get away with this,” Genevieve hissed, trying to sound brave.

Cassandra’s eyes bore into hers, unflinching. “Oh, but I already have. Your life as you know it is over. You have nowhere to run, no one to turn to. You’re alone, just like you made us feel.”

Genevieve's bravado crumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

Cassandra shook her head slowly. “It’s too late for apologies. You’ll pay for what you’ve done. Enjoy your hell, Genevieve.”

The fight between Genevieve and Cassandra continued to rage on, a chaotic blend of anger and desperation. The studio echoed with the sounds of their struggle—Genevieve's frantic, panicked shouts and Cassandra's fierce, unrelenting movements.

Genevieve, despite her earlier bravado, was struggling. She tried to fend off Cassandra’s relentless attacks, but the old woman was surprisingly strong.

Each time Genevieve attempted to counterattack, Cassandra met her with a forceful push or a sharp jab, her movements precise and driven by years of suppressed rage. Genevieve’s face was contorted in fear and disbelief as she realized Cassandra was far more formidable than she had anticipated.

Suddenly, the sound of sirens pierced through the air. The studio door burst open, and a flood of police officers, followed by you and Bucky, stormed in. The sight before them stopped everyone in their tracks.

You and Bucky exchanged stunned glances. Despite her age, Cassandra fought with a raw, unfiltered strength that defied her appearance. Her face was a mask of determined fury, each movement fueled by years of pent-up anger and pain.

Genevieve, on the other hand, was visibly shaken, her attempts at resistance growing increasingly desperate as Cassandra's relentless assault continued.

The police officers hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to intervene without escalating the situation further. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and stepped forward.

“Grandma! Stop!” you commanded, your voice echoing through the studio.

Cassandra paused, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and turned to face you. Her eyes, usually so calm and composed, were now blazing with the intensity of her emotions. For a moment, she seemed to waver, the anger in her eyes softening just slightly.

Bucky moved quickly, stepping between the two women, his presence commanding and authoritative. “Everyone, calm down,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re taking you both into custody.”

Genevieve, now visibly trembling, clutched her bleeding cheek, her bravado shattered. She looked at you with fear and resignation, realizing that her escape plan had crumbled.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

sThanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[shadowed-dancer]

Villains and Their Fates - A Tragedy Would Have Been Fine By Me

I've seen a lot of people who try to write off frustration with the league's fates by saying "you just wanted them to survive" or "you're just upset your favourite character died". And while that may be true for a few people, I know that it's at least not true for myself (which must mean there are others who feel the same way). So today I'm here to share my thoughts. Despite liking the villains and wanting them to be redeemed, I was also willing to accept a well written ending if they died. I just wanted to ramble a bit about the three main villains (mostly Toga) and how I felt a tragic ending could have been improved.

The only villain I felt should have lived is Dabi, but that's more because of the awkwardness his unconfirmed death caused for Shoto (read this beautifully written analysis for more). If Dabi had to die, he should have died on the battle field OR in the hospital surrounded by family where he gets a few last words in. Leaving his fate unconfirmed leads to the ruined Shoto arc, but is also just weird for a character who has existed for so long. You're telling me that even Overhaul gets a confirmed ending but DABI doesn't?

I've also talked a bit about how Endeavor's survival ruins the subplot, and in 426 he continues by making Touya's final appearance about him (rather than the two brothers) but that's something I've talked about too much. If Endeavor has to be alive and hogging screen time, the least Hori could do is imply Touya will survive rather than die, so at least Enji isn't literally stealing time from his other family members to have some interaction with Touya.

If Touya has to end up in that machine, an ideal ending would have been the doctor saying "it will be a gruelling and near-impossible uphill climb to recovery" and then Shoto can smile and say "he's done it before". Boom. Simple as that. Leave it open, but at least on a positive note so we can assume that the family will have plenty of time to reconcile, as opposed to an unknown (but limited) amount of time that Enji vows to use to talk to him (yeah I know it's supposed to be a sweet gesture but even Touya calls bullshit on it). Let Shoto and Touya eat their soba, damn it!

For Shigaraki, my grievances extend to the writing of the entire final battle between him and Deku. As such, I don't have much to say aside from that because it really is just a product of poor writing. Neither were really allowed to talk before the big moment (hell, the vestiges were narrating Deku's emotions half the time like "he must be upset, this quirk meant so much to him". Why not let him tell us???) and the back-and-forth of Shigaraki being destroyed and then not only to be destroyed again was too much. It felt sloppy and hard to follow, and once you figured it out it just felt dumb. It's as if each chapter needed some massive reveal, but the story had done it so much at this point that it just felt tired and like it was happening "because Hori said so", and that should never be what drives a story.

Speaking of "because Hori said so"...

Oh Toga. Out of all the villains, I actually liked her confrontation the most. (Lies. If Dabi vs Shoto was the end of Dabi's fight, THAT would have been the best. But the Endeavor fight ruins it). Despite having limited screen time, Toga and Uraraka had a surprisingly well-built dynamic. Their few interactions were actually meaningful and created a strong foundation for a fight, and at the very least they had more of a personal connection than Deku and Shigaraki ever did. I think that Toga giving her blood to someone she loves (as opposed to drinking/taking their blood like she had said the whole series) is a beautifully tragic end to her character, but still something that could have fit.

To me, the problem comes with how she died. Let me replay the scene for you: Toga stabs Uraraka in the stomach and Uraraka bleeds too much because she keeps moving around. Toga then realizes she doesn't want Uraraka to die. To save her life, Toga has to do a blood transfusion with herself as a donor and she dies because she has to give ALL her blood.

Now... sure. Ok. Fine. Yeah. Maybe by real-world logic this makes sense. I guess. Whatever. But within the world of MHA, this setup is laughable.

Here's a list of things characters survived (or at least, they survived LONG ENOUGH to get to a hospital rather than dying on the battlefield): Deku shattering his bones with 1 million percent, whatever happened to Best Jeanist when AFO attacked him, Nighteye getting a massive spike through the torso, All Might with "his entrails strewn across the ground", Bakugo becoming Swiss cheese, Grand Torino being punched so hard a crater forms beneath him, Touya being a literal flaming skeleton, Bakugo's heart exploding, Edgeshot becoming a worm. Mirko getting a limb ripped off and then running full speed at Shigaraki. That's just off the top of my head, I know there's probably more.

But you want to tell me that Uraraka getting stabbed and then moving was a fatal wound that required ALL TOGA'S BLOOD? ALL OF IT? The reason Toga's death bothers me is that the setup cheapens the actual moment of sacrifice. It feels preventable, so when she tells us that Uraraka is going to die without her blood, all I could do is roll my eyes because I'm not allowed to use critical thinking skills, I have to just accept what Hori says and take it at face value.

If the author wants you to live as Edgeworm despite saying you were gonna die, you can. But if the author needs a stab wound to be fatal and require ALL of someone's blood? Well tough luck bud, that's just how it goes. Mirko can run and move all she wants after having a limb ripped off, but moving a bit after one stab wound is fatal. Why? Because I say so.

If Uraraka's wound was actually serious then this ending would have been a beautiful tragedy. But as it stands now, the ridiculousness of her wound makes it all feel preventable.

Oh, there's also the fact that Toga switching blood types when she transforms was never established, but I've rambled enough.

That's it. Thanks for reading!

[smoshyourheadin]

spencer’s funeral and his partner is the special guest and roasts spencer so hard and than revels that they are getting a cat together but everyone thinks it’d a baby announcement lmaoooo or however you wanna end it

Special News

pairing: spencer agnew x f! reader

a/n: anon i love this idea so much!! guys please don’t come at me for these terrible jokes i’m just a girl really 😜 also i’m posting sm rn go me

requests are open <33

“lebron james inspired us with his baller moves. steph curry inspired us with his words. spencer agnew inspired us by being a piece of shit, so we would never follow in his footsteps.”

you’re stood at the podium of the funeral, spencer in the coffin next to you holding a bouquet of plastic flowers as he tries not to laugh.

“spencer is a gamer, and we all know that. but if he spent as much time with me as he does on world of warcraft, i’d be the happiest girl on earth, but hey, at least he has a high gear score to keep him company whilst i cook.”

you see everyone laugh as you switch the paper, angela cackling over what you thought was a pretty shit joke.

as the laughter dies down, you continue on. “spencer and me only ever disagree over stupid things, and i think to myself, he must know he’s short when he has to look up to see eye-to-eye with someone who's shorter than him, because i’m always right. i’m sure courtney feels the same about shayne.”

at this, courtney yells “FACTS!” from behind one of the cameras, and you shoot her a wink.

shayne then stares you down, and all you say is “shayne don’t worry, i’m a short king ally!” which he just smirks at.

“i have some pretty bad jokes here, so let’s quickfire some.“ you mutter to everyone.

“if sleeping on my arm were an olympic sport, he’d have more gold than michael phelps.” this earns a giggle from spencer, as you have a folder on your phone of him asleep in the most awkward ways possible, always lying on your arm somehow.

“he’s so obsessed with video games, even his posture looks like it's from a character model that hasn't loaded properly yet.“ this makes everyone cackle, spencer opening one eye to glare at you, and you just laugh him off.

“your gamer boy posture is so bad, chiropractors have your picture on their vision boards on what to improve on.”

“do you guys think that,” you exhale through your nose at what patrick has written on your prompt card. “spencer’s idea of sitting normally the same as a pretzel’s idea of being straight?” which is so bad it’s good, making you crouch down to laugh.

you stand back up after a moment, your stomach twisting over what you’re about to do. it’s going to be so worth it, but gosh you feel bad.

“spencer, my lovely boyfriend, is a mt dew kickstart addict, certified gamer girl, and a soon to be father” and at this last statement, everyone gasps, and spencer’s eyes shoot open and he sits up. he looks at you intently, and you see him experience about a hundred emotions at once

you smile at everyone, turning to a camera, pulling out a printed off certificate of adoption, a picture of a tiny ginger cat taped to it.

“we got a cat!” you say, almost proud of how shocked everyone is

as you turn to look at spencer, you hear shayne’s laugh, and you look at spencer with sympathetic eyes, mouthing ‘i love you’ to him over all the laughter. he just smiles, knowing that this cat is going to be so loved by you both. especially you. because you love him so much.

as you sit back down, spencer sits up. having come back from the dead, he has some things to say. he goes through everyone at his funeral; alex, shayne, damien, tommy, selina, and then, you.

“and finally, my beautiful girlfriend, y/n. my bundle of sunshine, blinding and hard to look at directly.” you scoff at this, and he looks at you with a look that says this is a joke please don’t kill me when we’re home.

“i mean, come on, you cry at surf's up? i guess even animated penguins have higher emotional intelligence than you.” he manages to say through a fit if giggles. spencer always teases you for this, even though he cries at the NGE film. loser.

after wrap, courtney comes over to congratulate you on your cat, and just catch up generally.

“so, cat parents hey? proud of you girl” she says with a grin.

“yeah, i kinda feel bad scaring everyone into thinking spencer gets game in bed.” you reply, earning a laugh from her.

“don’t be mean to me! i’m a player you know?” spencer says coming up behind you.

“okay, sure you are mr ‘i cry at anime’.” you snap back.

he throws his hands up in defeat, and you kiss his cheek, going off to see amanda.

“she’s so cool.” courtney says

“yeah,” spencer replies. “she’s not that bad.”

she elbows him in the ribs, and he clutches his side

“i mean, she’s the best!” he says through strained teeth, courtney doing a proud nod before catching you up.

[darylas]

Chapter 2 - It’s Only a Paper Moon

John “Bucky” Egan x singer!fem!reader previous ♫ next ♫ ao3

Bucky is realizing that your performance doesn't end when you leave the stage, but he's determined to see what lies under the mask.

1.8k words

Warnings: Language, Smoking, Bucky being a little shit

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

You stood outside the officers' club, slouching against the back wall and using one hand to massage your cheeks. Before joining the American Red Cross and moving overseas, you’d never realized just how sore one’s face could get from smiling all day long. How tired one could become of the sound of their own false laughter. Never appreciated just how valuable a quiet moment alone could really be. 

Your days at Thorpe Abbotts had quickly grown monotonous, though you supposed that rehearsing and performing with the band multiple days a week made your experience a bit more unique than the other volunteers’. 

For you, the most difficult part of the job was not waking up before dawn to prepare doughnuts and coffee for the airmen, though you were counting down the days until your next morning off.

It also wasn’t the fact that you and your fellow ARC girls were nothing less than amateur psychiatrists, offering a comforting and listening ear to soldiers who were fresh out of combat to process their violent experiences. You felt that you had become quite adept at keeping your attitude from being too bright, thus seeming uncaring, or too sympathetic, which might evoke even darker emotions from the soldier. Thanks to these revealing conversations, you came to know a lot more than you anticipated about the horrors of war.

It certainly wasn’t performing in front of large crowds; you had always been good at that. 

No, for you the most draining aspect of your job was moments like this one, the moments between musical numbers. Making small talk, smiling at all times, laughing at the same joke you’d already been told at least thirty times as if it were the funniest thing you’d ever heard. Truthfully, it felt like a much grander performance than anything you’d ever done on stage. Ever since you were a child, you cherished your alone time and preferred genuine, intellectual conversation to what felt like pointless small talk. At this point, the mask you wore during these moments seemed to be plastered to your face at all times. You would never reveal this to the men, of course. This was why you were here, to give these brave men a piece of home and to raise morale. 

Of course, while ARC girls were expected to attend parties and socialize, they were not required to accept every invitation. While most of the men were harmless and polite, there were some who you would prefer to avoid interaction with altogether. Major Egan being one of them. 

You had always been one to trust your instincts about a person, and something about the major kept you at a distance. For one, he was full of himself, or at least he seemed to be. You supposed that was not uncommon in young officers with higher ranks. For another thing, word spread among the women fast enough for you to know that a dance with John Egan often didn’t end once the music stopped. You had no interest in being anyone’s conquest of the month. 

Right now, you knew you had a few minutes before your next number. You had been able to sneak out for a moment with the rather poor excuse of needing some fresh air to boost your lung volume and vocal control. You took out your sad little lighter and a cigarette from one of the packs of four rationed to each soldier. This pack was gifted to you by a young private who said he didn’t smoke. Fresh air, indeed. 

You flipped open the lid and thumbed the wheel once, twice, three times with no flame. You kept trying, but the damn thing still wouldn’t light. “Oh for crying out loud, you goddamn son of a b-”

“Need a light?”

═════ ♫ ═════

Bucky watched you transform before his eyes. Your posture went from slouched to straight-backed; your expression from one of annoyance and frustration to unnervingly neutral. You could certainly teach a thing or two about standing at attention to many of the airmen under his command. He had to stop himself from saying “At ease, soldier.” While it was impressive, it was not the reception he had been hoping for. 

“Major Egan,” you said. “I’m sorry, I thought I was alone out here.” 

“Yeah, I gathered that,” he replied, pulling his Zippo out of his pocket. “And you can call me Bucky.” He ignited the lighter. 

You glanced at the flame and then back at him gratefully before lighting your cigarette. “Thank you for the light, but if you don’t mind I would prefer to continue addressing you professionally.” 

“Oh, well in that case, you can call me John. Mind if I have a smoke with you?” he asked, already taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth. 

Bucky noticed a slight pause before you replied, “Of course not, but wouldn’t you rather join everyone else in the club? From what I gather, you’re often the life of the party.” You looked toward the door. 

Bucky grinned. “I don’t know about that. Since you started singing here, I’d say you’ve earned that title yourself.” He leaned against the wall next to you, though you were now standing straight. “‘Sides, I see too much of those guys as it is. Trust me, you’re much better company.” He winked. 

You exhaled a cloud of smoke and said “You’re too kind,” then gave him a close-mouthed smile. You looked away and tapped your foot absent-mindedly to the muted sound of the lively music coming from inside. Bucky took a drag of his own cigarette. You remained quiet, the tapping of your foot on the gravel and the muted jazz tune being the only sounds for several seconds. Bucky frowned. Every other Red Cross girl he interacted with made small talk, asking him questions about his home town, listening excitedly as he talked about baseball. Hell, you had more to say to your dead lighter than you did to him. 

It appeared that flattery was not the key to unlocking your clearly well-protected personality. It didn’t convince you to dance with him the other night, and it certainly wasn’t working now. He scoffed to himself. Buck would smirk and say that he should’ve asked Bubbles for advice before making another attempt with you. 

He could give up. Accept the fact that you clearly didn’t like him, go inside, and have a drink with the boys. 

Or he could try something else. Something Buck would call him a loony for even thinking.

Looking straight ahead, he said, “Don’t, uh, don’t they interview you Red Cross girls? Before you can come overseas? I thought the ones that got sent over here had to have killer personalities or somethin’.” He glanced toward you while taking another drag. 

Your brow furrowed and you turned your head toward him. “I beg your pardon?”

There you are.

“Aww, you don’t gotta beg me, sweetheart. It’s okay, I get that not everybody is cut out for this.” He gestured with the hand holding his cigarette. “I just find it odd that you made the cut. I was under the impression that the competition to get this position was pretty fierce, but maybe there are fewer girls gunnin’ for it than I thought.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, keeping a serious expression on his face.

You narrowed your eyes and slightly cocked your head to the side. “I expect you to apologize for that, Major.” 

Bucky nodded quickly and tossed his cigarette on the ground before crushing the butt beneath his heel. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry about that.” He leaned against the wall once again, this time facing you. “I’m sure you’re doing the best you can. You do seem a little tired.” He looked at you sympathetically, then glanced down to watch you bite your bottom lip. Miraculously, he was able to tear his gaze away to look you in the eyes again, not wanting to miss your reaction.

After a few more seconds of tense silence, you looked away and disposed of your cigarette. “Thank you again for the light. I’m going inside.” You walked toward the door. 

What the hell was that?

He must have inadvertently spoken the question aloud, because you abruptly turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. He started to apologize for cursing at you, but instead he said, “You’re not gonna say anything? Not a ‘how dare you?’ Not gonna call me a goddamn son of a bitch? Or do you just save that fire for your lighter?” You continued to watch him silently. “I guess you also save all the laughs and dances for every other guy here.” He pointed hard with both index fingers to his chest. “But me? Oh, lucky me, I get nothin’.” He stopped talking and looked at you with anticipation, both of his brows raised.

You finally shrugged and said, “I suppose I’m just too tired,” then started again for the door. Bucky forced himself to unclench his jaw and pry his feet from their current spot. He hurried to beat you to the door and hold it open for you. 

You muttered a quiet “thank you” as you walked through, but before you could get far into the crowded room, Bucky was once again by your side. 

“You know, I got a theory,” he said, his voice a little brighter than it had been just moments ago.

Whether you had meant for him to or not, he heard you let out a huff from your nose. “Oh, please,” you said under your breath.

“I told you, you don’t have to beg me, sweetheart.” He continued. “I think you know that if you dance with me, you’ll realize I’m not such a bad guy,” he said, leaning in quite close to you but giving you enough space to back away. You didn’t. “I think you’re scared you’ll like it.” 

You didn’t blush or move away. Instead, you maintained eye contact as the band began playing It’s Only a Paper Moon. You responded with that polite, cryptic smile that was beginning to drive him nuts, and said softly, “I guess we’ll never know.” 

You didn’t wait for him to reply before making your way toward the microphone. The crowd cheered eagerly as they saw you approach. You beamed at the crowd and began to sing. 

Say it’s only a paper moon

Sailing over a cardboard sea

You motioned to the crowd to sing along with you for the next line, a silent command that everyone except Bucky obeyed wholeheartedly. For once, he was the only person in the room not singing. 

But it wouldn’t be make-believe

If you believed in me

As the band played a brief interlude, you said into the microphone, “Wow, you all sound fabulous. I’m not sure why they’ve got me up here. Heck, they aren’t even paying me.” The crowd laughed and remained enraptured with your performance. As burnt up as he was feeling, Bucky couldn’t help hanging onto every note. As he watched you sing and smile and joke, he had one thought run continuously through his mind.

Just who the hell is this woman?

A/N: This one's for my fellow masking introverts. Yeah so Bucky decided to use kindergarten tactics on reader. Next chapter, he pushes her off the swings. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

[runariya]

I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .

Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )

I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother

but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)

and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹

You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .

Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754

a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He hates you.

No, he loathes your entire existence.

That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.

It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.

“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”

You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.

The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.

“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.

“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”

Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.

“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.

“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.

“It’s the truth, ___.”

“Is it okay if I keep it?”

What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?

“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.

The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.

“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.

“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”

“Whatever.”

And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.

Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.

This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?

It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“What do you want?”

“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”

The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.

Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”

And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.

Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.

He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.

You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.

Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.

What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.

It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.

Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.

In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.

How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.

“Jungkook?”

He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.

When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.

Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.

“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.

To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.

He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.

And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.

It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.

You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.

“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”

“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.

“I said back off my mate.”

They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.

Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.

One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.

“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.

“Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.

“Good."

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”

It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.

“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.

“I am?”

Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.

“You are. Always were.”

And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.

With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Omg hey I woul like to request something ! Ken x Reader (male, if possible) where the reader teaches Ken about the real world and they're also very in love. Thank you very much !

When Ken returned to the Real World again, he had a vision similar to Barbie's--realizing his owner was nearby.

Instead of a child....it's you, an adult who (like Gloria) inadvertently projected your own insecurities onto him while looking at an unboxed Beach Ken doll in your attic.

When you were younger, you really wanted to play with it unlike other boys who had action figures and nerf guns...but you were sorta shamed into keeping it boxed, as your parents said it would be more "valuable" one day.

Similarly..Ken had been stuck in a box all his life, trapped in the role of Barbie's accessory until recently.

So there's an instant connection when you two meet.

To make a long story short, you're like "ohhh hey I guess I kinda fucked up your mental stability, bro...you wanna come over and we can talk about it, man-to-man?"

He was very eager to go with you and learn more about your world beyond all the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

You tell him about using your "male privilege" for good, and one defining example was when a random woman taps him on the shoulder, looking terrified and almost in tears.

"H-Hi, um..this is gonna sound really awkward but can you two pretend to be my friends for a second? This guy has been following me-"

"Of course." You reassure her, before looking to the confused Ken and telling him to go along with it.

The creepy guy comes along and backs off when he sees you two standing there protecting this lady, and once he's gone, she thanks you with hugs before leaving.

"I think I did a good job." Ken turns to you for validation, eyes shimmering. "Was that good, [y/n]? I mean playing pretend is all I've ever done so-"

"Yep. You did great." You chuckle, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad she thought you were a safe person to approach."

He nods and is giddy the whole way back home, especially when you get into your car and show him the different mechanisms, with him clinging to every detail.

These life lessons you're teaching him, however, made him think back to the "Kendom"...and he admits to trying to reinvent patriarchy there and feels ashamed of how he treated the Barbies.

He didn't think he'd open up this quickly to you, considering he never had any "manly" talks with other Kens (besides beach-offs).

But besides you being his owner, there's something about you that just made him feel...secure enough to do so. Like he could tell you anything.

You listen and reassure him that acknowledging his mistakes was a great first step to unlearning those toxic mindsets.

With all of that finally hashed out, you decide to show him the simple pleasures of the real world. Like cooking, watching TV, playing video games, etc.

Just mundane things you regularly do, with Ken picking up on some of your habits/routines as well as having some independence of his own.

You two grow closer as a result over the next few weeks, and you began falling for him and his humor and his charming smiles-

Yeah, you're 100% smitten for this doll who crossed worlds to meet you.

But you're not sure if he felt (or even could feel) the same way, since he was made to love Barbie and was...clearly still getting over his "breakup" with her. So you left it be.

That changes when you show him some emotional movie where the lead male characters showed vulnerability (ie Good Will Hunting or Brokeback Mountain) and he unconsciously holds your hand as he stares at the screen, tears staining his cheeks.

While the credits roll, your heart melts as he looks at you with those pretty blue eyes, his watery smile persistent.

"Th-Thanks for showing me this, [y/n].."

"Of course, Ken. Now you know that us guys don't always have to pretend to be tough. We're allowed to have feelings." You rub your thumb across his knuckles, a sweet gesture which makes him blush.

On the subject of feelings, he realizes that the ones he has for you are...leaning more into romance than "bromance" (yeah you taught him that term and it's part of his vocabulary now).

He becomes uncharacteristically quiet when you ask him what's on his mind, before he leans in to kiss you on the cheek. Purely on impulse.

You're both flustered at what happened, yet he panics internally when you don't say anything, trying to get up to leave so you didn't see him cry over the stupid decision he made-

"Ken, it's okay." You take his hands, convincing him to sit back down. "I had no idea you swung that way, but I'm...actually glad."

"Glad? Y-You're not...mad or anything?" He sniffles.

"Of course not. I....was planning to come out of the closet sooner or later. I just didn't know when or how to bring it up, but....I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, thank god."

"So...does this makes us boyfriend and g....boyfriend?"

"If you want it to be, sure. I wouldn't mind a handsome doll being the love of my life." You wink.

Ken mirrors your smile, relieved to know you reciprocated his feelings.

Then he gets stumped on something and his eyebrows furrow.

"Wait...what closet were you talking about?"

Oh boy.

You just chuckle and give him a kiss on the lips.

Falling in love with a Ken doll from Barbieland certainly wasn't on your bucket list....

But you're perfectly content with that.