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[swsapphics-ao3feed]

by MasterOfMemez96

Shin wakes up on Christmas morning to find that Sabine has gotten her the greatest gift she could ask for: her.

Words: 527, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Shin Hati, Sabine Wren

Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren

Additional Tags: Christmas, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bondage, Gags, Christmas Fluff, Lesbian Shin Hati, Lesbian Sabine Wren, Soft Shin Hati, Groping, Christmas Kisses, Shin Hati Loves Sabine Wren, Sabine Wren Loves Shin Hati, Mild Smut, nothing explicit though, Short & Sweet

[allie-writes]

pressure and the deep sea

Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Relationships: None Other relevant tags: Character Study, Nightmares, Panic Attacks Word count: 509 Language: English Read on: AO3 | Fanfiction.net

When he dreams, he is suffocating at first.

CWs: asphixiation, drowning, death-imagery, blood and injury (canon-compliant and non-graphic), past trauma, panic attacks

When he dreams, he is suffocating at first.

It is pitch dark, and there is blood in his eye. The air is thick and stifling; his lungs burn with the effort it takes to continue breathing. In and out, in and out, through the pressure on his chest. In and out, in and out, despite the walls closing in on him. In and out, in and out.

From above him, a rhythmic tchk-tchk-tchk cuts through the roar of blood in his ears. Digging: above him, inside him, shovel into dirt, dirt into body, body into dust, and ashes to ashes. The walls tremble and come ever closer before the ceiling begins to sink as well and his breaths grow shorter with it. Anything to force the dwindling amount of air into his lungs, anything to keep on living, anything to remain defiant.

Aspiration passes his lips in hot and moist and disgusting bursts. It condenses, right in front of his face; then, it begins to drip. Water dribbles onto his cheeks like somebody else’s teardrops, fat and heavy and salty. It burns where it gathers in his empty eye-socket, stings in the bruises littering his body, and eventually, it drowns his rasping, desperate breaths.

There is still air, somewhere, but he can’t seem to find it. His lungs are already waterlogged.

He chokes on the river that pours into his mouth, then coughs around the waves that are forcing themselves out of his respiratory system. His bones feel hollow and brittle where they rattle inside his clammy, soapy skin—a water corpse in the making, trapped inside a pretty, shrinking aquarium.

He is not yet submerged, and still, he drowns. Above him, muffled, rain hits the ground. No one is coming for him; he cannot remember much of anything, but this, he knows for a fact. This is the last stage of abandonment, of being discarded.

(Sometimes, he will dimly remember that someone did come, back then. But in his dreams, they don’t.) He grows delirious as his lungs begin to give in. It’s a losing battle now: no space, no air, only water and dirt and blood, and pain, and he drowns, he drowns—

And Qifrey sits up.

The room around him is dark (like the inside of a coffin—), his shirt soaked in cold sweat (like rainwater—) and he can’t seem to recall how to breathe normally for a few seconds (because he is still being suffocated, because he is still drowning—). His fingers are numb.

He is safe. He is home.

The girls are sleeping just down the hall, tucked into their soft beds. Olruggio is probably awake in his own rooms, tinkering the night away. The blankets pooled in his lap are warm and sweat-damp and heavy, and the air in his room is fragrant and plentiful. In the morning, they will have a breakfast of bread with jam and hot tea.

His entire body trembles as he wraps his arms around himself. Tears prickle behind his eye.

Breathe. In and out.

In and out.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

extremely unpopular ship but. marc/luca with 24 + 21

marc/luca: 21 (biting) + 24 (dacryphilia)

Luca braces for it like he braces for hitting the ground after being highsided off his bike. Marc saying you’re nothing like Valentino or you’re just like Valentino. Or—God fucking forbid—being sorry about how shit the Honda is. Poor boy, wasting his career on a comeback that won’t deliver.

He never does. Which is half the reason that they’re doing this, in the first place.

It’s not an accident, is the thing. Luca enjoys making mistakes with his eyes wide open.

He grinds up into Marc, dirty, slow sweeps, right against his prostate. The wet squelch of lube echoes gunshot loud between them, accusatory—as does Marc’s breathless little gasp. Luca keeps at it, again, again, again, so he’ll get another one of those noises, but Marc only throws his head back, puts it against his shoulder, miles of smooth, tanned skin in his bobbing throat.

Pretty, Luca thinks, a hysterical little laugh stuck behind his teeth, shaking when he runs a forcibly idle touch over Marc’s waxed, soft thighs.

“More?” He asks, careful.

Marc nods—open-mouthed, greedy—and drags him to hold his cock. Luca’s hands are calloused, bony, dry. Probably doesn’t feel that good, in retrospect. Marc bucks into his grip anyway, fucks into his slightly unsteady fist with abandon, like he’s bending a bad bike to take a tricky corner.

Luca bites into the soft insides of his cheek. Focus.

So he leaves a bite on Marc’s throat next. Mean, deep—it’s right there, after all. Presses down hard on the imprint of his teeth he left on the swell of Marc’s pec, on his nipple, on the knob of his hipbone. They’re growing dark already, a splotchy purple-red on gold, ugly, round lines.

He keens, jolts, legs falling open, hooked over Luca’s skinny knees. It’s like pressing on the keys of a baby grand at random, only to find out everything sounds fantastic. His cock twitches in his hand, leaks. Each slide is wetter and easier than the last.

Christ. Luca sucks in a breath, tucked against the corded muscle of Marc’s neck.

But Marc is allergic to breaks or something like that. Twists his head around and tugs him up by his hair. They’re looking at each other—which should technically be sobering, a cold wash of reality, but only makes Luca ache to press a kiss on the corner of his shiv-quick smile.

In a bit, maybe.

“You really are mean,” he says, winded, in this dangerous, wild delight.

Luca arches an eyebrow, immaculate through the hell press of Marc’s ass around his cock, how it rakes over him like an electric shock. “You asked me to.”

“People don’t usually—ah, shit, see—first fuck is usually a warm-up. Very polite.”

Luca debates for a split second, five lights and off they go, prying the words from the bottom of his throat. I actually get off on making people cry, just like that. Decides against it at Marc’s dark, cutting stare, his open-mouthed, shameless hunger. Too much like feeding a shark.

Makes himself grin, instead. “I’m very polite. You always say that.”

“Asshole,” he says—in Spanish. Putilla, like Luca doesn’t know what it means. And he laughs through it too, this ugly, honking laugh.

It’s not what you call someone doing a favor, sort of. Luca keeps smiling.

Squeezes Marc’s cock hard, drags his nails all the way to his flushed, wet head. Marc chokes on whatever noise he was making, scrambles to scratch him back, at his wrist, legs twitching to cover himself up on instinct.

He lets them fall limp, though. Stares wide-eyed, expectant. Challenging. Luca croons something sweet-sounding, backs off just a little. His grip is too tight, cruel, but more pleasure now, working him over in quick, rough twists of his palm.

Nothing about it is pretty, exactly—except Marc crumbling against him, Luca is at his strings. Except Marc whining, high-pitched and raw, when he shivers and comes with Luca running a nail over his slit and biting down on his nape.

Luca grunts, muffled through Marc tightening up around his cock, through the pound of blood in his ears.

It’s probably the funniest—most absurd—consequence of going to an engineer’s birthday party, he thinks, nerves in overdrive, about to giggle or moan or come, same fucking difference, heart drumming against his ribcage, thoughts hitting every corner.

Marc hisses out a thick noise, holds his arm. There’s no real strength behind it. Luca gets back on with what could be called his meanness, smears Marc’s come over his own dick. Jerks him only a fraction gentler than he was.

He isn’t crying, yet.

Not like he asked to, not like Luca wants to see.

But maybe soon, he thinks, perverse and not caring all that much about it, heat prickling under his skin, spit pooling over his tongue. Luca gives him a light nibble on his earlobe as a reward, more intent than actual pressure.

“More?” Luca breathes out, barely a whisper.

Marc—lashes wet, fluttering, almost there—nods.

[siriuslygay1981]

Barty shifted to the side, his heart beating rapidly. He felt shaky and like he might throw up. Clearing his throat he let his eyes jump to where Evan sat next to him casually.

He looked fucking beautiful,like always. His blonde hair was ruffled by the wind, his face slightly flushed. Barty watched with no little amount of affection as Evan closed his eyes and smiled.

"I love you." The words were out of his mouth before the words even formed in his mind.

The leafs around them rustled, the wind pushing against them. Bartys mouth open and closed, his stomach forming a black pit.

Fuck.

"uh.." Evan said awkwardly

"oh-" it felt like the word was punched out of him. Breathless and full of pain.

"yea...no YEA i-i was just- mm I'm going to..."

His limbs felt weird, his whole body felt out of place, his cheeks were warm with embarrassment. He cursed himself out mentally as he scrambled up and ran to the castle with a crumpling face and a breaking heart.

He didn't hear the faint call of his name too busy berating himself, he wiped at his face angrily and forced himself to keep going.

Way to go, ruin another friendship you idiot

__

Evan sat at the lake dumbfounded.

What the fuck.

He stared at the spot where Barty bolted from, his eyebrows pinched together. His heart thudding against his chest wildly, he pushed his hair out of his face as he tried to process everything that just happened.

What the fuck.

Part two

[the-mazed-magic-shop]

I can't find words to describe how sad I felt while reading this and how sad I am feeling after reading this! I am just so grateful that you wrote this and I got to read it! The way your words flow in every emotions is so poetic... seriously... when moon and sun will return our earth will resume spinning like it should.

the one where hoseok comes home

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x gn!Reader Type: Drabble // Fluff // Established Relationship AU Rating: PG-13 — Minors DNI w/ my content, regardless! CW: None 💕 Summary: It’s October 2024 and your life finally — finally — resumes its orbit. WC: .5k A/N: Deviating from my WIPs (ope) because I needed a fix-it fic for, like, reality? Nobody requested this lil baby blurb, unless you count… me. Dedicated to (m)y jihope-biased emotional support moot, @here2bbtstrash

You’d learned more in eighteen months than you had in over eighteen years of formal education.

The first lesson came on your second morning alone: hotteok tastes better when it’s made for you. Even if the cook gets distracted by the background music they themselves are generating. Even if the edges are crispier than they should be, and the centers are a bit gooey, or there’s pre-packaged mix dusting over your previously clean countertops. Even if that hotteok is cold by the time you stop kissing and start eating, you know now that few things in life are sweeter.

He is, of course, but the point still stands.

Showers, you’d learned, are colder when you take them alone. This was a surprise you grappled with for weeks and a confounding reality you still struggle to square. A scientific mystery, then and now.

All of the hot water was yours — exclusively — to use as you pleased. You didn’t have to scramble, soap-covered and squealing, for the prime spot under the shower head. Cold air didn’t nip at your damp skin when you lost territory because you didn’t have to compete for any in the first place. Still, without whole-chested laughter to echo off the walls, not much existed to separate your body from cold porcelain.

The absence of personal space isn’t something you intend to ever take for granted again.

Of all the things you’d realized in your uncharacteristically quiet apartment, one thing hit a little harder:

Love looks different every day.

Sometimes, it comes at an odd angle. It’s spending all thirty minutes of a daily allowance with a phone propped against a faucet. It’s staring up at someone’s chin, watching fondly as they brush their teeth, and smiling when they remember — without being told — to put the cap back on the toothpaste.

Other times, it looks like an Excel spreadsheet of pop culture news, fastidiously collected and organized so that no groundbreaking celebrity gossip goes unreported. It’s incredulous eyes and a scandalized mouth hanging open, interjecting occasionally with, “Wa, jinjja?”

Every now and then, it looks like handwritten letters with thick, black redactions applied after the fact with a far heavier hand. Though you couldn’t tell where in the Republic they came from, you knew — without question — that government censorship does not apply to hastily doodled hearts.

Today, however, love doesn’t look like much of anything because its hands are covering your eyes.

It sounds like clean spoons clattering back into the dishwasher you’d been emptying, entirely unaware that the door down the hall had opened and shut out of earshot. It smells like army-issued shampoo and Thai milk tea from that little spot near the train station, where surprise journeys home occur two days ahead of schedule. And it feels like the ground shifting beneath your fluffy house slippers; the Earth now back on its axis and ready to resume spinning like it should.

Tonight, love will taste like hotteok for dinner — and you won’t have to make it yourself.

[florencebirdsong]

When you plan to do a small Agatha x reader smutty one shot but then suddenly it’s an Agatha x Rio x Reader fic and almost 2k words when you’re not even done yet 🧍‍♀️

[kakushino]

Haganezuka's apprentice - Fem!Reader

You'd heard about his temper, or rather, you heard his temper, long before you first saw him. The need for new swordsmiths went beyond personal wants and so, you found yourself as one of the would-be apprentices under masters of their trade. Your master though? Haganezuka Hotaru

Since you would be entering the Swordsmiths' village proper, as a citizen and not a visitor, you had received your own hyottoko mask, as ugly as the rest of them, yet crucial for its anonymity. You were grateful to it though, because it hid your scowl during your first few weeks under Master Haganezuka's dubious tutelage.

"Not like that, you stupid shithead!"

"This is shoddy as hell. Again."

"Useless brat."

"If Kamado got a sword like this, he'd be coming back for another in a day."

It was all you could do to not blow up on him. As it was, you just shut your mouth and tried to keep up. You weren't even sure if he knew you weren't a man; after all, the masks did distort even voices.

You understood though, really. He was forbidden from touching the forge until he healed up and just tried to focus his energy on you, but he went about it completely wrong. 

Every insult and snide comment fueled your wrath. It was time to show him what you were made of, what you learned and what you could do. 

With bandage-covered hands from the blisters and rawness of overworking, you did what you did best as of late - forge.

The day you presented your first 'passable' wakizashi (passable for him, very good for others) was the day his comment felt less offensive and more… like a compliment?

"Hmpf, guess you aren't that incompetent, brat."

With time, the heat of his words went out of the window, his vulgarity dwindling as you improved in leaps and bounds. Despite his harshness and unpolished way of teaching, you'd become a swordsmith who could stand on her own two feet. Your apprenticeship would last for years more though, giving you plenty of time to really get to know your master.

"You didn't buy yourself any dango? Idiot. Here, take one. Don't tell a soul or you're dead."

"Here… What do you think it is? I didn't know you were so stupid you couldn't recognize tea. You like this type, don't you? So shut up and take it."

"Tsk. Brat. As if you could distract me from my- is that Gyomaru's dango? Hand it over."

Haganezuka Hotaru was just abrasive on the outside, but a big softie on the inside. 

A big softie who couldn't take care of himself properly at times. 

"Master Haganezuka, you need to eat. You've been in here for over a day." You cautiously touched his shoulder, hoping beyond hope he would snap out of the Zone. You'd brought dango and tea, hoping to entice him with the smell at first. It wasn't working, obviously.

He said nothing, just continued to hammer away at his latest work. 

“Master Haganezuka?” you shook his shoulder a little, making him pause for a moment before he continued. Your patience wore thin. You scowled. You’d be surprised if the ugly expression wasn’t permanently fixed into your face with how often you wore it when dealing with him. 

Maybe taking off his mask would make him pay attention to me?

Spoiler alert: It did not.

But it did make your face feel hot when you saw how handsome he was under it. A few shiny scars from the not-so-recent village attack still stood out against his pale skin, making him even more attractive.

Sweat made his dark hair stick to his skin, and suddenly, you were curious about the whole picture; you untied his scarf - it wasn’t like he was going to un-Zone anytime soon, you reasoned. You were not ready for the dark wavy tresses spilling over his shoulders. It was not fair how much of a looker he was. Was this man really single?

You continued to study him, memorizing his features for long lonely nights in your accommodation. Soon enough, you realized you were being a creep and should stop at once; you needed to finish what you started after all.

“Master Haganezuka!” you reached for his other shoulder to shake it. What you didn’t account for was the fact it was his blind side. Instead of an insult or even a scathing remark, you were nearly slashed with a red-hot blade in the face. You took a quick step back and it thankfully only knocked off your hyottoko mask to the ground, the wood smoking a little where the iron made contact with it. You stared at it with wide eyes, your heart in your throat and terror pulsing in your veins. “...”

“...you’re a woman?” 

Your eyes met his, both of you staring at each other in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” 

A flush rose to his cheeks, before his expression turned to white ash. “The old man is gonna kill me.”

"How did you not know I was a woman? The Chief told you when he was introducing me."

"I wasn't listening," he huffed, looking away. 

"More importantly, you just tried to kill me!" 

"Not my fault you were being stupid, brat!"

"You were being stupid. You didn't get out of here for over a day! You have to eat! And sleep!"

"Sleep is for the weak! I need to finish this project-" Haganezuka turned back to his bench, reaching for his hammer.

You snatched the tool before he could touch it. "No, you don't-" You high-tailed it out of his forge, clutching his favorite hammer as if your life depended on it.

"Wait-! You useless wench!"

Your master swore up a storm, hurling insults, screaming at you and chasing you with his half-finished blade. 

Kanamori even ran out into the street in his pajamas, mask askew, a katana of his own in hand, thinking there was an attack again. Seeing Haganezuka, he huffed and went back to sleep, too tired to deal with this right now.

A few days later, the Chief came to officially scold your master. You had a kick out of it, thankful your mask hid your smirk.

[syndrossi]

tfw when you wanna write restoration au but you've gotta eat your resonant veggies first 😭

[the-mazed-magic-shop]

Ah! This made me so mad. Jimin really crossed the line but somehow I feel like y/n could have dealt with the situation better. Still super mad at Jimin - the bigger asshole. You don't call a person selfish bitch who is just trying to look after you, gosh.

Thank you so much for writing this, Nini. and I'm so sorry I couldn't read and share my thoughts sooner. - suryanwesha.

Hi, Nini!! Can I request a Jimin angst with prompt 13 for the drabble game? (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

13- "you are breaking my heart...and you cant even fucking see it" x Jimin

Hi sweetheart! apologies for the late post but I hope you enjoy it <3

warnings- angst, swearing, mentions of drinking

"dont slam my car door!"

you heard jimin call after you as you ran into the house, him getting out of the car still.

"y/n!" he shouted, putting his phone in his pocket and running in, seeing you taking off your coat. He caught his breath before speaking "whats your issue?"

You scoff, giving him a knowing look before turning and walking past him.

"Hey!" he shouted, urging you to talk, "you screamed the entire car ride home and now your silent?"

You finally turned to look your boyfriend in the eyes, your stomach churning- "what"

He blinks, "what do you mean 'what'"?

"what do you want me to say?"

Jimin almost laughs "I want you to explain why you are fucking freaking out about this, and why the hell we had to leave the party early?"

"jimin..." you try to gather your thoughts, stepping down the stairs to be at his level. "im mad because you told me-you promised me....that the drinking would stop"

He takes a deep breath before speaking "It was only 2 glasses-"

"4...it was 4" you interrupt

"taehyung offered those, and so what?"

"youre an alcoholic jimin! you can risk to have just 4 drinks, because you end up like you did"

"and how is that?"

You scoffed "you were yelling and causing a scene, then you started being aggressive with ME!" you feel your voice shake as it gets louder, your body cant decide whether youre more sad or angry

"oh are you embarrassed? did i embarrass you?"

"yes, you did. You embarrassed yourself as well, and I wish you'd see that." you sigh and run your hand in your hair, "you were sober for 7 months, jimin, you were doing so well....you finished your therapy progr-"

"oh fuck the therapy program, fuck them and fuck this too" he threw his hands up and tossed his coat to the floor.

"jimin" you warn sternly

"you know...the thing with you is that you cant stand when things arent up to perfection, it fucking irks the shit out of you, doesnt it?"

You remained silent, watching your boyfriend pace the living room.

"like...you bragged about my sobriety like it was something you did, I did it myself. You didnt care when I was drunk and alone in the studio every night"

"jimin thats not true"

"yes it is! dont tell me its not!" he scoffed, looking at you "and then, I decide to have a few drinks at a party when I havent seen my friends in so long, and when I feel like im having a good time, you whisk me away so you arent embarrassed of me anymore"

"jimin I care about you, I fucking care so much and I want you to be healthy!!"

"oh shut up, stop with the bullshit y/n, You only fucking care about yourself, you are a selfish bitch"

You feel yourself tear up at his words, trying to remind yourself that he isnt sober, and this exact behavior is the reason he landed into rehab in the first place.

"are you crying?" he looked at you with a glare, his fists balled up into his own shirt.

You sniff and wipe your tears, "yes?" you bite

"why" he questions, as if he hasnt been involved in the situation

you widen your eyes and look at him, shrugging helplessly, "Because you are breaking my heart.....and you cant even fucking see it!!"

His gaze softens, but he is past forgiveness tonight.

Its silent for a few moments as you quietly sob into your hands, he decides to try to hold you, but you jump away as if you got burned.

"n-no....dont touch me...ever" you spoke through gritted teeth...his words stung deep.

He sadly looked back at you as you spoke, "you arent sleeping in our room, you can sleep on the sofa- or the street for all i care" you wiped your tear

"y/n...im-"

"dont say youre sorry....you dont say that shit unless you mean it, and im starting to think those words were real"

"No!!"

"save it, im going to bed" you turn, walking up the stairs and slamming the door shut, leaving jimin alone downstairs as he watched you go.

[swsapphics-ao3feed]

by MasterOfMemez96

Scubatember Day 13: Buddy Breathing

Ahsoka and Barriss are going over some scuba drills, but Ahsoka gets a bit...distracted while practicing buddy breathing.

Words: 598, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 13 of Scubatember 2024

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee

Relationships: Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano

Additional Tags: Scuba Diving, Scubatember, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Buddy Breathing, Scuba Drills, Lesbian Ahsoka Tano, Lesbian Barriss Offee, Flustered Ahsoka Tano, Flirty Barriss Offee, Romantic Fluff, Girls Kissing, Swimming Pools, underwater kissing, Rated T for mild suggestiveness, Short & Sweet

[ren4ever]

Hoᥣყ joᥣყ Chrιsmᥲs! - bυᥣᥣყ ᥣιkᥱs ყoυ bᥲᥴk sᥱqυᥱᥣ

Ofc ya girl have to come back and make a lil sequel, this is SFW but theres a will be a kissing scene AND YES CHRISTMAS THEMED i just love love loveeeeee the vibe of Christmas YA FEEL ME? WORDCOUNT: 1,145

It been months after that kiss, that stupid little kiss from ur very own big o'l 'bully', keeping u up all night for who knows how long but ofcourse You can’t just stay in your damn room all day, so you force yourself to get up, even though the cold breeze makes you want to crawl right back into bed. Instead, you get ready for school. As you head downstairs, your eyes catch the calendar on the wall—"4 days until Christmas." you complelty forgot! you quickly peek thru ur window and see snow snow covering everything. its.. SNOWING!!!! AUYYUAIOAYOIAY (im too lazy to write the part of how she cycled all the way to her school but yeah its possible!!! anyways: in short at school)

You finally catch your breath after the chaos of getting to school. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re still huffing out cold air when something catches your eye—the soft fall of snowflakes. Just as you're enjoying the moment, someone sneaks up behind you. You whip around to see your friend Claire, grinning as excited as you are for Christmas.

"Yaaay! Christmas is almost here! I can't wait for the holidays! Ugmmhh, no more exams or homework!" Claire's always the life of the party and somehow still manages to get an amazing report card—plus, she’s got a sweet boyfriend. Or at least, that’s how she describes him. In reality, he's more like a walking dumpster, treating her like trash, which pisses you off. But you haven’t said anything about it. Not yet.

"Come onnn, let's get inside already brrr... it’s freezing!" you complain. Claire nods, shivering along with you as you both head to the lockers. Just as you start to get comfortable, the bell rings, leaving you both a little upset. After a quick goodbye wave, you head to your classroom.

But when you get there… it’s empty? Confused, you check the room number on your phone. "467." Yeah, it’s right. You’re about to leave when someone suddenly grabs your arm.

It felt like déjà vu—the same exact cologne. It had to be... him. You slowly look up and see a familiar face, his lips curling into a small grin as he pats your head.

You’re standing so close to him that your heart starts beating faster. You glance out the window; it’s still snowing, the sky dark like it’s still nighttime. Suddenly, he stops patting your head and looks away, his face a bit flushed. "tsk.. stop makin ur eyes lookin' like that.." he hates it! its way too.. way too.. adorable

When you finally snap out of it, you push him away. "Just leave me alone!" you say, squirming away awkwardly. He lets out a frustrated sigh, leaning in. "So I can't wish my doll a Merr' Christmas?"

Before you can respond, he steps back. "Fine, fine," he mutters, tossing a Christmas-decorated bag at you. Curious, you open it and find a scarf—a handmade one. your eyes widens, but he avoids your gaze, looking away. Your eyes drop to his hands. They’re bandaged, with a few raw cuts visible. He’s way too flustered to explain, nervously rubbing his hair instead.

You quickly lean in and give him a small kiss on his left cheek before bolting out of the classroom, running downstairs. Thanks to him, you were already late for class, and now it’s lunch break. He stood there, stunned, his left hand resting on his cheek where you kissed him, a faint smile spreading across his face.

When you finally make it down to the cafeteria, you spot your best friend Claire with her annoying boyfriend, Mateusz, all over each other, love bombing her. How could such a douchebag end up with your best friend? You sigh, walking toward them.

Of course, you can't wait to tell Claire everything that just happened in that "467 classroom," being all bitchy about the guy who grabbed your arm—just like last time.

And like that, the bell rang again, signaling the end of the day. You stepped outside into the dark, gloomy sky, watching the beautiful snowflakes drift down around you. The cold breeze did nothing to lift your spirits.

Then you hear a loud roar of a car—it's him again. You groan and ask, "What is it this time?" He smirks, his tone dripping with confidence as he replies, "Hop in." It wasn’t even a question; it was a command. u didnt really have a choice either; he could easily overpower you. So, with a reluctant sigh, you slipped into the back seat, theres no way ur going infront next to HIM

"Y'know, you should really quiet down next time," he says, clearly having overheard you and Claire. Oh my GOSH?!?!, is he pissed? started panicking, He catches your anxious reflection in the mirror and lets out a light chuckle. "I’m not mad," he reassures you, while driving like a maniac Once you both arrive at his apartment, he grabs your hand and leads you to the living room. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and guiding you to lean against the wall as he kisses you tenderly—this isn’t about lust, but love. “Be careful of what you say with that mouth,” he mutters, his lips still brushing against yours.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a kiss that sent shockwaves through you. Your heart raced, and you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the unexpected warmth of his lips against yours. He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes with a hint of nervousness.

“Y'know I can’t help myself,” he said, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

You felt your cheeks burn, and your stomach fluttered. “asshole..” you stammered, trying to sound playful but failing miserably.

He smirked, his confidence shining through. “But you like it.”

Before you could form a response, he leaned in again, planting soft kisses across your face—your lips, your cheeks, even a quick peck on your forehead. You gasped, your heart racing as each kiss left you more flustered. “Wait! What are you doing?” you squeaked, trying to hide your surprise.

He paused, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure you know cute you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest, your voice barely above a whisper. “I—um, I’m not used to this.”

With a teasing grin, he stepped back, his gaze steady and confident. “Maybe I like seeing you all bothered n nervous.” MEANWHILE CHRISTMAS MUSIC IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND YAAAHHH nonproofread btw! so mb if its choppy

[meownotgood]

done!!!!!!! I'll proofread and (hopefully) post it tomorrow 💪

[dykekarkat]

wip wednesday except its sunday and im too high to keep writing tonight so take the first 200 words i have of a cat neil oneshot

Andrew is very rarely tired after a day of exams, one of the rare perks of his fucked up memory. Today, however, he won't deny the relief he feels in his exhaustion at the empty dorm. 

He drops his bag before flopping down on a beanbag in a move so undignified he takes a moment to thank Renee's god that Kevin is staying with Wymack for the foreseeable future. The combination of finals week and a lack of night practices had the man terrorizing their dorm like a caged animal. 

Neil hadn't liked it either, but Andrew didn’t have to deal with him bitching and moaning about it. No, Andrew had to deal with something much worse. 

Now that Neil isn't convinced he'll drop dead in a few months, he's taken to freaking out about his exams like any good college student. Every time Kevin started ranting about their missed extra practices and their duty to the Moriyamas, Andrew had watched the tension in Neil's shoulders rise higher and higher. 

Andrew had gotten so sick of it he exiled Kevin to Wymack's place until he got over himself. It's only been a few days since, but at least Neil isn't tiptoeing around the dorm like a shadow anymore. 

Andrew knows he's still barely sleeping, devouring problem sets and lecture recordings like he can etch them into his brain. 

He only seems to remember to eat when Andrew brings him food, bowls of fruit that are coincidentally his favorite or those disgusting protein shakes he favors. 

Neil always thanks him with a smile when he does it. It's barely a smile even, just the slightest upturn of his lips. It crinkles the knife scars near his lips that Andrew has traced with his tongue.

His eyes too, seem to soften somehow, like Andrew's presence is enough to drain the tension in his back. Andrew hates it. He can see that smile in perfect rendition whenever he closes his eyes. Each time he resists the urge to break another window.

[the-mazed-magic-shop]

Wow! You wrote a part 2 of it! It's so nice to see both of them working it out together. Sometimes for the betterment of your loved ones you need to be strict and I am so glad that y/n held her ground! I am also so proud of Jimin for accepting y/n's argument and choosing the better path. Way to go, Jimin-ah!

hello! I really like that jimin prompt! Do u think u can write a part 2 ? 🥹

ah im so glad you liked it! thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy part 2 as well! <3

Warnings- swearing, mentions of addiction, angst,

read part 1 here

The next morning, Jimin woke up in his work office chair, sweaty and nauseous.

The memories of the past few hours slowly sunk in as he sat up, remembering why exactly he was in his work room in the first place-and not in your bed.

A loud clash was heard from the kitchen, alerting him to jump up and follow, his eyes immediately set on you.

You sent a wicked glare before looking back down "I dropped a mug. Im fine" you muttered, but he was already next to you, assisting.

"dont cut your hand-" he mumbled pushing your fingers away from the broken glass on the kitchen tile.

"You look like shit" you mumbled, not fighting him and instead walking to grab a different mug instead.

He shrugged, "well yeah-"

"are you even sorry?"

He looked back up at you, eyes wide, "yes...of course I am"

You scoffed, "what you said to me last night was not okay..."

He silently nodded, picking up the glass and discarding it before leaning against the island counter.

"it fucking hurt, i didnt sleep at all..."

He gave you a sympathetic look, "im sorry, y/n...I really am, I was not sober and-"

"I dont care!! I dont care if you were sober or not....to sit there in any state of mind and question my love and devotion for you is just...is just fucking cruel, jimin"

He sighs, "what is it that you want me to do, or say?"

You shrug and slam your mug down "look at you! you are a fucking mess!"

Jimin simply just looked back at you, not knowing what to do in this situation other than let you feel what you feel.

You paused for a moment, "...I want you to go back to seeing your therapist"

"no!" he stood up quick, shaking his head, "god no, y/n, i am not doing therapy again, fuck"

"well if you cant talk to me you need to talk to someone...because if not, we-" you gesture between the two of you "are done, and i mean it, because im not going to sit around if you dont wanna get better for yourself let alone our relationship."

He sighs, pacing a bit, "i do want to get better" he nods, "I do, I dont want you to leave...." his voice cracks as he sighs, turning away.

You look at his back, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling both your scents. "then prove it, Jimin"

You hate that you cant just run up and hug him, you hate that you cant kiss him and tell him he will be okay, then go lay down and embrace eachother until you fell alseep.

You can-...but you cant.

Jimin is a grown man, he needs to have the self awareness that this issue is his, and he needs to fix it before he looses everything...and he needs to know that you will be waiting for him at the end of the finish line.

A small sniff is heard, "ill go to the therapist ok?"

You nod although he cant see you, "good....thats really good Jimin...thank you"

He wipes his face with his sleeve before looking back at you, "im sorry" he whispers

You cant say its okay...because it still is far from it, but you will accept his apology and effort to try

"thank you for apologizing" you nod, "I think we will have a lot of work to do in the next coming weeks...so, I just hope you are serious about this"

"I am...I promise!!" he spoke up, coming over to grasp your hands

"okay, good" you nod, kissing his cheek and walking away

Jimin makes a mental note to make an appointment with his previous therapist for tomorrow

His addiction has always been a struggle-

but he would give up anything to keep you, even if he said things he doesnt mean and will regret for a long time.

He will change, he will prove it to you.

[quillsmora]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game), Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, Rook (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Naked Cuddling, Domestic Bliss, Ficlet, lucanis is down bad, he's just like me fr Summary:

Even now as he lies in his childhood bedroom at the Dellamorte Estate he finds himself fighting off sleep –– not for the fear of the demon inside him taking over, but to appreciate the woman lying in his arms.

or: it ends as lucanis had hoped.

[brwnsugcr]

i'm not saying that there could be a pilates update this month . . .