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#it’s the way they go about these things that is insane
wonryllis · 20 hours
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k (current wc, 2k)
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!!
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things
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servicpop · 2 days
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✶ ﹑ㅤlate nights ﹏
NOW STARRING : hockey bf Suguru x male!reader
「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤyour boyfriend can't help himself before the big game, he has some sort of jinx!
✙ warnings — thigh fucking, size difference, use of "prince," hand-job
notes ,, tbh I know nothing about hockey i just wanted to make an au with suguru that isn't just the normal jjk plot... / also this was inspired by Jinx manhwa... the sex jinx thing you know
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1:00 AM
The room is cloaked in the silence of the night; the soft light of the moon filtered through the half-closed blinds casting gentle shadows across the walls. The air is still, filled with the faint scent of lavender from the nearby candle. On the bed, you and Suguru lay intertwined, your bodies molded together with you as the little spoon, and Suguru as the big spoon. The soft fabric of the sheets cocoones the both of you in warmth as you find solace in each other's embrace. At this point you're already fast asleep, lulled into a deep slumber as you lay in Suguru's arms. However, no matter how hard he tried to push the growing heat beside, he was kept awake from the raging boner he had.
With one arm wrapped around your waist while the other propped his head up, he watched your chest rise and fall steadily. You looked so peaceful. The pale hand placed on your waist snaked down to your thigh, caressing it slowly. "Hey, wake up, prince" He shook you awake gently, not wanting to jolt you awake but his saccharine, honeyed voice was enough to pull you back to sleep. A light hearted chuckle left his chest when he saw your sleepy eyes blink to conciousness, and the way your nose scrunched like a kitty was adorable to him.
Suguru's palm kept massaging your thigh as his breath tickled your neck, "I can't sleep," He whispered, groaning softly when his hips involuntarily grinded against your ass. It was an accident he swears, it wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep because of his erection... it didn't help how you were still half asleep, trying to process what was happening. You realised immediately when you felt something poke your back. "I'm tired..." you mumbled, your words barely reaching Suguru's ears. It was 1am, of course you'd be tired. "How about your thighs? I'll do all the work," you knew Suguru had a thing for your thighs, he would always squeeze and grope them any chance he got. He mentioned something about how it was the warmest and softest part of your body but you never really understood his rambles.
"You have a game tomorrow, Suguru," You scold but don't push away his grabby hands. You know about his "jinx" but to be honest it was most likely just an excuse to fuck you before games; it was probably a way for him to get rid of his stress. "I won't win if I don't feel you," He groaned, his fingers dipping in-between your thighs, trying to hoist them apart. At this point you let him, too overcome by your sleepiness to care.
The noise of fabric shuffling filled the otherwise quiet room as Suguru slots himself in between your thighs, pushing your plush flesh together to secure him. You could tell he enjoyed it as you heard a shaky and breathy moan from behind you. To be honest, you got off on it too, seeing the way his tip would peak out from in-between your thighs. You always knew he was big but it never failed to suprise you each time.
Slowly, Suguru moved his hips in a thrusting motion, drawing them away before pushing back in with a small noise of his skin making contact with yours. His breaths stuttered with each movement and his hands wandered up your shirt, caressing and feeling your stomach underneath his fingertips. Suguru wasn't extremely vocal but with the small grunts and huff he lets out when he's enjoying himself... drives your body insane and you can't help but grow aroused as well.
"You lonely?" Suguru chuckled, his hands moving down to the waistband of your pyjama pants. With a small mumble of 'there we go,' he slips off your pants, tossing them aside carelessly. He continues his thrusting, slipping his dick in-between your thighs rhythmically. With every thrust, you could feel Suguru's cock slip along the underside of yours. It was such a light feeling that it almost tickled. Suguru coos in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that barely register in your sleep-ridden brain. All you can focus on is his warm palm trailing to your cock. His hand clamps around you as he cradles it in his hand for a bit, allowing you to really feel the warmth from his hand. God you were already leaking. "Hah... feels good Sugu'"
"Does it now?" he hums in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone, but the way his hands pumped your cock was far from innocent. His movements get faster, his hips went from slow and calculated thrusts to slamming his hips against the back of your thighs, chasing his pleasure alongside with your own. Both his hand and his dick sliding in between your thighs made whimpers slip out your lips. Suguru uses his other hand to hold you close to him, pressing his palm flat against your stomach to push you flush against his body.
"Gonna come," he grunts, his voice getting louder and more raspy as he keeps thrusting. The hand wrapped around your cock was still pumping with vigour, like he wanted you to lose yourself with him. Your voice wavers as moans flow out of your throat — Suguru's hands are way too skilled for their own good. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and your cock twitches in Suguru's hand. Your tip is so red its practically begging for him to have mercy but he doesn't stop. He wants to see your pleasure as much as he wants to feel you. Suguru's voice breaks slightly as he groans, white spurting out of his dick and coating your thighs as well as the sheets. He keeps pumping his hand until he feels you pulse and twitch before you come, "Mm... good boy, yeah just like that."
With a few more slow thrusts, Suguru finally stopped. He wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug-like way, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. He littered kisses all over your cheek and your jawline before speaking, "I'll do well tomorrow, thanks prince," Suguru chuckled softly, letting his eyes close while he settled down with you to catch up on the sleep he missed beforehand.
♡ little gift — X nsfw video that inspired this !!
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a/n : this was meant to be an oc fic but decided I wanted it to be suguru...
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yeonzzzn · 2 days
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devilish: sjyn + lhs
epilogue of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist
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pairing: jake x afab!reader + heeseung word count: 2.3k
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synopsis: you go visit heeseung in jail for one final interview about the ghost face cases…learning more than you expected.
genre: ghostface!heeseung, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, m*rder & sexual themes, heeseung and jake are insane (as always <3) I think that’s it!
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Heeseung chuckled when he saw you sitting on the other side of the glass, his heart smile reaching from ear to ear. 
He sat down in front of you, tilting his head, “Awe, what did I do to deserve a special visit from you?” his voice echoed through the small holes in the glass, his voice a tiny bit muffled. 
You cross one of your legs over the other and stretch your arms out, hands resting on your knee, “I came to ask questions.” 
He chuckled again, “There’s the journalist YN we all know and love.”
“You don’t even know me.” 
Heeseung smiled, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth then releasing it, eyeing you up and down, “How’s Jay going?” he asked, tilting his head in the other direction, “You know, after you stabbed him three times.” 
You tried to not react, not to give him what he wanted: to see you break. “Jay is fine,” you said calmly, “He was released from the hospital yesterday.” 
Heeseung nodded, “Didn’t think you had it in you to be so feisty.” 
You still didn't react. But you had to agree with him, you didn’t think you’d have it in you either to attempt to kill someone until seeing the way Jay was hovered over Jake with Jake’s blood spilling on the floor. 
“So,” Heeseung said, sliding his cuffed hands onto the table, index finger touching the glass, “How did…” he glanced up to the ceiling, then back down at you, “how did Jake figure me out?” 
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table, “It wasn’t hard, Heeseung. Not after piecing everything together.” 
“Oh?” his eyebrows raised, “Tell me more!” 
“You slipped up,” you lean back in the chair, “First, you let me see your watch when you attacked me.” 
Heeseung shrugged, “That wasn’t something I was planning on, it didn't cross my mind. Sunoo had my longer gloves at that time and once I saw you leave your apartment, I had to ask fast.” 
You continued, “Second, after you attacked me, when we were discussing the murders, you specifically said, “we’ll catch him,” that narrowed it down to males specifically. So we had the watch, and what you said.” 
Heeseung stared at you, “Jake figured me out just by those two things?” 
You raised a brow, “I wasn’t finished. Besides, he is…you know. He knows how it all works, I suppose.” 
Heeseung had to give you that one, Jake was one smart motherfucker. 
“Jake went over all the cases again, looking at every piece of information given until he found the missing puzzle piece.” 
“He always was a good detective,” Heeseung leaned back in the chair, lowering his head at you, “Still will make a damn good one.” 
“Jake wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was even you,” you sighed, “But the more he thought about it, the more sure he became. Jake went into the film office, finding nothing that said it would even be pinned to Jay or Jungwon. Then he searched the investigation office, used his brain, and found Sunoo’s ghost face attire. That was another strike in your box, that you had help. The last bit of confirmation was how Jay attacked us. It wasn’t the same movements as when you attacked me. Plus anytime you talked to Jake as ghost face, you said his full name. Jay slipped up and called him Sim.”
Heeseung locked his jaw, anger raising through him at how he could have gotten away with everything if fucking Jay didn’t fuck that one up. 
You saw his gears turning and you smiled, “The only last bit was to draw you in and confess.” 
Heeseung evilly smiled, “Your boyfriend used you as bait to catch me,” he laughed, “he was so confident that he risked your life, all to catch me?” 
You looked to the floor. It wasn’t a risk Jake wanted to take but one he felt that needed to be done. Jake researched everything about Heeseung and took notice of every little thing he did towards you, it was obvious Heeseung had feelings. Jake knew Heeseung wouldn’t fall for a meeting if Jake was the one to call it, it had to come from you no matter how much he hated it. 
“Why did you do it?” you asked him once more, “Why drag Sunoo in on this? How many people did he kill?” 
Heeseung smirked, “I assume you already tried speaking to him and he gave you nothing.” 
You didn’t have to acknowledge it, you knew Heeseung already knew you spoke to Sunoo. All Sunoo did was stare and smile at you and occasionally giggle, “I want to know about the past department head too.” 
Heeseung sighed, leaning forward again, “I’ve always been obsessed with killers and how their brains worked. All the crimes they commit and how they do them. Watching plenty of documentaries growing up and different types of crime TV shows, it always made sense to me to become a forensics investigator,” he shrugged, “You probably could assume how excited I was when the ghost face killings started happening,” Heeseung chuckled at the memory of the first body that popped up on the news, “It was all exciting. Like a serial killer was on my campus. It was crazy. I rushed to the first murder scene.” 
He made eye contact with you, “Then there was you,” you swallowed, waiting for him to continue, “It was love at first sight. Seeing how you wrote in that little journal of yours, taking pictures and investigating. I knew I was in love.” 
“You don’t know me…” 
“Oh, but I do,” he bit his lip, “I followed you around everywhere. I looked up every piece of information possible and learned everything. I know how you like your coffee and you’ve never drank coffee near me.” 
The hair on your arms raised. Heeseung stalked you for so long and you never knew. 
“I spent so long trying to figure out how to approach you, to make you mine while at the same time, my obsession with ghost face grew. And then Jake joined your team,” Heeseung’s eyes grew with hatred, “I hated him the moment I saw how he looked at you. He looked at you like you were the ones who aligned the planets and slapped the stars in the sky.” 
You already knew Jake was interested in you since way before he even joined your team, he’s admitted that much to you. But hearing Heeseung say it made your heart race. Like it was fated that Jake would always be your endgame. 
“So I started following him around,” Heeseung confessed, “It didn’t take long for me to figure out…his secret.” Because of course it didn’t, “You should have seen how angry I was. Knowing the man I loathed because he had feelings for my girl was also the same man I obsessed with and looked up to? The mixed emotions were crazy.” 
You stared at him, “I can imagine, and I’m not your girl.” 
Heeseung frowned, “My admiration for him outweighed my feelings for you,” he looked away from you, “At least, at first. Not until I followed him off to your apartment, seeing how you figured out his secret and still let him fuck you on your kitchen floor.” 
“Jealousy is an ugly thing, Heeseung,” you whispered.
“Not so ugly when you felt him fuck you in public all because Jay was hitting on you.” 
You roll your eyes, “Continue your story.” 
Heeseung laughed, “Eager are we?” you narrow your eyes at him, “I stalked him enough to learn his patterns and the types of victims he goes for. The brand of knives he uses, even the cloak, and where he got his mask. I studied everything, all just to take him down, steal his title and his girl.” 
Maybe Heeseung was crazier than Jake. 
“But I had to get close, needed a reason to get close. So I committed a few murders and dumped my mask as a middle finger to him knowing it would piss him off. I learned how to bug devices, and was listening in when the news was on. It was the perfect time to introduce myself, then go commit more murders,” He shrugged again, “I needed to get close to you and your team. So I pitched to the dean about us joining together, but he told me to ask the department head. And as you know, she was murdered.” 
“I’m going to assume she turned you down, saying to stay out of it?” 
“You’re the department head for the journalism club for a reason,” he smiled, “She told me no. So I dressed up as ghost face and murdered her right outside her dorm room,” he sighed, “That’s when Sunoo comes in.” 
You laughed, “He caught you, didn’t he?” 
Heeseung nodded, “He watched me slit her throat and started acting like a fanboy, begging me to let him join me. He’s a major ghost face enthusiast.” 
It made sense. 
“Sunoo even knew I was a copycat,” Heeseung snickered, “He did his research just as much as I did. The only thing is he didn’t know who the original was until I told him. Then we started plotting together.” 
“And you had him do your side work.” 
“You’re on a roll today!” he clapped his hands together, “and to finally answer your question, Sunoo only stained his hands red once. The rest was all me. I wanted it to be all me.” 
“Why?” you asked with a shaky breath. 
“Again,” he leaned forward, “To destroy Jake. Destroy everything he was and what he had built. To murder him and take up his ghost face mantle and make you love me instead of him!” Heeseung clenched his fists, “I could have continued his legacy and had you at my side. Oh, the way I’ve dreamed of being in his position. Getting to be the one to be ghost face and come home to you every night and fuck you so so good. With Jake completely out of the picture. You were such a fucking tease with how you drew me into you, I knew it was too good to be true but I couldn’t help myself. Feeling your legs wrapped around me and lips brushing against mine, getting to finally touch you…” 
Your ears turned red and you stood from the chair, “You’re fucking crazy!!” 
Heeseung stood up quickly, leaning closer to the glass, “Says the one who is fucking a serial killer every single night.” 
You shook your head, “He’s changed.” 
Heeseung laughs a bit too loud, it echoing against the walls on your side of the glass, “Has he though?” he smirked, “Where is your boyfriend at right now? Do you know?” 
You swallow, thinking of all the places Jake could possibly be right now, not giving him an answer. 
Heeseung leans closer to the glass, his breath fogging it up, tapping his index finger against the glass, “I think we both know where he is right now, YN.” 
You slowly backed away, blowing off his comment, “We’re done here.” You turn on your heels, quickly pressing the button to buzz yourself out of this room. 
Hessung’s laughter could still be heard, “You know where he is, YN. Use that brain of yours!” 
You exited the mental hospital, quickly walking to your car and climbing inside, dropping your face into your hands and taking a couple of deep breaths. 
Heeseung’s words echoed in your mind over and over on repeat to the point you were driving yourself crazy. You sat back in the seat, glancing at the time on your dashboard, it was almost seven pm and you couldn’t help but wonder where your boyfriend could be, letting Heeseung’s words sink in and not wanting to actually know the truth. 
Jake’s laughter echoes across the empty alleyway, pulling his knife out of this random guy's chest, his blood splattering across Jake’s new mask. He lifted the all-white hockey mask up to the top of his head and pulled down the black bandana to his neck. 
“Awe fuck,” he breathed, staring at the blood dripping down the blade of his knife, “Feels so fucking good to slash with my favorite weapon again,” he coos, “It’s been too long.” 
Jake laughed again, leaning down and pressing the knife to the man’s neck, his eyes widened, and cried out of fear as he looked up at Jake, pleading with him. 
“Yes, I’ve missed seeing those desperate looks,” he pressed the blade more against the man’s neck, and Jake’s smile turned into a frown, “That damn copycat forced me to change my whole persona. My mask and outfit too. Such a fucking shame.” Jake slides the blade in and through his throat, blood going everywhere including Jake’s near face, it being the killing blow. 
He stood to his feet, wiping the blood onto his long-sleeved shirt, staring at his reflection on the blade. Jake’s corners of his lips curled upwards, him not being able to hold back his giggles that once again became a laughing fit. 
“Ahhh,” he sighs after calming down, dropping his hands to his sides and staring up at the nighttime sky, “YN is going to murder me once she finds out where I am,” his smile just grows more, “But that’s just the thrill of it all, knowing she could end me at any moment.” 
Jake walked deeper into the alleyway, grabbing his things. Who knew just chilling and killing could be this much fun? Mostly now that Heeseung took the fall for his plus Jake’s crimes. Jake could start fresh and rebuild what was taken from him. Oh man, he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face once he’s home. His cock twitched with anticipation just thinking about it.  
He tossed the knife up, catching it at its hilt then tossing it again, “We are so back.” 
‧₊˚✧T H E E N D✧˚₊‧
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emchant3d · 1 day
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part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1
Eddie Munson is not having a good day.
His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.
He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.
There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.
“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.
The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.
His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.
Time stops.
It’s Stevie.
He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.
Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.
His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.
And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.
“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”
“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”
“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.
It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.
Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.
Or not his version of her, anyway.
This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.
Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.
“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.
“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.
He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.
“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.
“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.
“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.
She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.
"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”
He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.
His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.
"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.
"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.
“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”
“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.
Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.
"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.
“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”
“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.
“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”
“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.
He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.
It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.
It looks like a status symbol.
It doesn’t look like her.
“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.
But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.
A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.
He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.
“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.
“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.
“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.
“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”
“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.
“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.
“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.
“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”
“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”
“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.
“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.
“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.
Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–
And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.
“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.
When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.
He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.
He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.
this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕
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rxzennia · 20 hours
Text
domestic headcanons
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)
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after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?
the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff
you just need to move yourself over
he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for
it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked
when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up
but there’s so much space? 
you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like 
you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk
why do the senior managers have so much space?
but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents
because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you
so there’s your clutter for the other side
though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty
a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough
it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway
surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.
frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.
he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on
“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop
“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you
“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”
he will throw a hissy fit
“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”
will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him
you give him a flat “i will be present as well.” 
you’re so bloody infuriating
he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop
you look at him. what is he trying to do now?
“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”
normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings
but sometimes you cave and indulge him
this is one of those times
“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”
you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way
well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today
a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes
he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could
if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it
and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.
still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him
the only good thing about them, really
because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like
and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)
or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like
loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all
that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting
you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.
mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.
you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps
this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks
in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays
you show up in his room everyday at around the same time
if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there
you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side
and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before
(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)
whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going
in a very, very slurred, sleepy way
you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”
how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?
good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in
otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you
although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it
then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up
more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you
on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him
it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you
he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(
aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.
odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.
this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence
your spare scarves keep him company
imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him
he makes the connection very quickly
did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans
he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves
a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly
those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly
but they’re friendly to him because they’re you
one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh
and the others will be all around him
will slobber over him 100%
he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him
they will try to eat his hands
but, like, in a not alarming way
hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool
when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go
literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them
when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.
you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again. 
then you lower your scarf
you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore
oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea
“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric
you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss
the best part (real) 
he snuggles up against your side naturally
you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy
he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house
princess treatment
you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff
“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”
he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”
you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine” 
instantly droops like a kicked puppy
he doesn’t even try to hide it
absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking
feels like you’re back to square one all over again
“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.
you glance at him. “displeased?” 
“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”
you don’t respond 
you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off
he moves on to slapping your face lightly
“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head
surprisingly, you let him
he might also pull on your scarf
and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours
“are you ignoring me…?”
you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”
“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”
“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”
“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”
“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.
eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?
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gay-dorito-dust · 15 hours
Note
Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸
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Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂
Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.
‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.
He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.
Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.
The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;
‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’
Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.
To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.
If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.
Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.
‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.
However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.
He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.
So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.
Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;
‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘
When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.
Damian;
‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’
He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.
He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.
Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.
He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.
However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.
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khuzena · 19 hours
Text
Waiting room
Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader
Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.
Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?
A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳
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Dr ratio
He's a simple man, really.
Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.
Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.
Is what you initially thought.
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It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”
He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.
Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”
Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.
“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”
He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”
Insane?
“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did.”
He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”
Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.
He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.
“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.
Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.
Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?
“Veritas.”
You call out once.
“Veritas!”
Again, in anger.
“Veritas”
The last time, desperately.
He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”
You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”
“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”
“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”
Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.
For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.
He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.
Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.
“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.
You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”
“Which one?”
“None of your business.”
Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.
“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”
That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.
“You are more childish.”
“How so?”
“You— do I even have to explain it?”
Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.
“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.
He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”
“I'm tired of asking”
Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.
He stays quiet.
“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”
“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.
The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”
“What?”
“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”
It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.
He does not answer.
“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.
So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.
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Aventurine
He loves you, he really does.
His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.
Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.
It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?
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“Darling! I got you a gift!”
The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.
You look like a doll, his doll.
But you are not a doll, you are human.
And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.
“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.
“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”
“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.
You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.
You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.
“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”
Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.
“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”
It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?
He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”
You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.
“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?
You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”
”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.
“You said that too last month,” you scoff.
He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”
There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.
”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”
You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.
You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.
”Okay”
You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.
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Sunday
Love, what truly is love?
Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?
Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?
or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?
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Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.
Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.
Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.
The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.
He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.
Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.
To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.
You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.
But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.
He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.
”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.
You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”
”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.
“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.
He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”
”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.
He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”
Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.
“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”
”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”
He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?
There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”
What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."
Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."
Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."
When will you stop acting like a child?
The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.
His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.
"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."
You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.
His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.
You are still here with him.
He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."
"You'll never leave me too."
It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.
You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.
On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.
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Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
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rubiehart · 20 hours
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INTRODUCING… LEOPARD!READER!
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just because she’s a pogue doesn’t mean she can’t be the coolest chick in the obx. chunky gold earrings, leopard print everything, jeans that don’t fit her, black lace, dark red nails, whether it be acrylics she saved up for or just polish.
she’s constantly using her pretty privilege to get her way, big dilated eyes and slow flirty blinks to reel in unsuspecting tourons at keggers before pocketing their wallets.
of course her unexpected fast pace and insanely high stamina keeping things interesting when nobody can keep up with her after stealing whatever shit the pogues need. she’s a natural at jumping over fences, walls, whatever.
she’s got very quick temper, gritting her sharp canines a little too hard if someone says something about someone she loves, dropping her chill girl persona, fighting dirty n not stopping till she’s physically ripped away, then fighting whoever pulled her off.
massive oral fixation, sinking her teeth into anything on instinct, pretty much always chewing on her necklaces, knawing on her acrylics, or leaving indents in her man’s arm, he loves it really.
animal lover, given names to all the local stray cats and dogs and tries to feed ‘em every day, they all know where to go.
when you pass her house on certain morning she’s outside with all the forgotten strays, kneeling as she feeds them scraps of meat and it’s probably the happiest she’s ever looked.
which boy would she be most compatible with?
tagging moots:
@junekicks @juniebugg @hewwokitti @vaisoric @prettys0bbing @princessmaybank @poguesprincess @redhead1180 @maiiuelle @lustnluv @kraekat29 @forstarkey @pudyrankow @heartsforvin
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b1mbodoll · 2 days
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me when the function got vampire enha 😝
no but seriously i’m going insane you can’t just post that and expect me to be normal about it!!!
me trying to work on my feminist criticism of snow white and then u drop the most brainrotting concept in my lap!!!
anyyywayyyyy… vamp wonnie…. ooooughh… he’d say such gentle things!! so sweet and kind!! promising you he’ll only have a little bit :3
but when you’re right there and you taste so good and you’re making such pretty noises >_< how could he stop???!
love, 🔗
(sorry if this made no sense!! i’m on new meds that make me a lil loopy hehe)
💌: LITERALLY ME WHEN THE FUNCTION GOT VAMPIRE ENHA!!!!! 😭😭😭😭 my gosh im gonna lose it plssss vampire jungwonie my beloved 😵‍💫 n pls baby do not apologize, i’m in luv with this <3
vampires are such beautiful creatures <3 some of them have lil features specifically for luring their prey; like a certain tone their voice takes as they whisper in their victims ear before puncturing flesh and draining blood.
but there’s something about jungwon that’s extremely appealing, whether it’s his sweet lil face that completely disarms you, making you completely forget that he’s quite literally an apex predator, or how he so easily he gains your trust, promising never to lay a finger (or fang) on you without permission, you’re unsure but all you know is that you’d do anything for him.
that’s how you find yourself offering a tentative hand to jungwon, he’s able to hear your heart racing and he struggles to silence a groan, not wanting to scare you off before having his first taste of your sweet blood.
“you’ll be gentle, right, wonie?” you question, voice quiet as the vampire inches closer to your wrist.
the only reassurance you get is a peck to your palm before he sinks his teeth into you, latching onto your soft skin, moaning loudly as he takes and takes and takes, his eyes red, like the rivulets of blood staining your arm and his lips.
it’s terrifying but it feels so fucking good, you think, mind hazy as the loss of blood gets to you. but he stops before you pass out, cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply, slipping his blood coated tongue in your mouth, the taste of iron making you wince; is this what he tastes?
jungwon pulls away and it leaves you gasping for air, uninjured hand finding its way to his hair as he kisses along your jaw before stopping at your throat, scraping his sharp fangs along your pulse point and that fills you with fear, mutters of no, no, no are all you’re able to get out but it’s not enough to make him stop, how could you be so dumb? you shouldve known better, there’s no way jungwon would be content with just feasting from your wrist.
a choked out gasp makes jungwon’s cock twitch and he’s rutting his hips against you, chasing his orgasm as the taste of you floods his senses, you’re all he can see, taste, touch, and smell, and your painful whimpers are like music to his ears.
it isn’t long before he’s cumming, he feels sticky and soso content, breathing out a sigh of relief when he detaches from you, wiping his messy mouth with the back of his hand. all you can do is lie there, cunt wet and aching to be filled. who knew a vampire bite could make you this desperate?
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usereddie · 3 days
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explain couch theory for dummies please
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alright!!!
basically, couch theory started last season in 6x01. we got a snippet of the script for the buckley diaz scene at the beginning of the episode, where buck, eddie, and christopher are all having dinner together, and christopher teases buck for not having a couch.
buck is upset that bobby didn't consider him for interim captain and goes "i just wanna know what these other candidates have that apparently i don't."
christopher goes "buck, you don't even have a couch."
buck explains that the last two couches came with girlfriends (to which eddie replies "i think you mean the last two girlfriends came with couches.") because ali picked his couch when he got the loft, and they kept taylor's couch after she moved in, meaning that when she moved out, she took the couch with her.
the theory REALLY starts, though, when eddie points out that buck and taylor broke up months ago, he could've replaced the couch by now.
and buck gets a soft look in his eyes as he looks at eddie and goes "well, maybe i don't want to pick the wrong couch again."
that's kind of the root of the whole couch theory.
there's another scene in 6x01 where buck mentions not having a couch to bobby and saying he doesn't want to make a mistake again, referring to life experience.
essentially, the couch metaphor is actually something that happens in canon throughout season 6. the couch theory is the spin off of that metaphor, where it's very obvious that eddie is the damn couch.
throughout the season, there's this theme of buck searching for the right couch. it continues at the very end of the coma episode (6x11), when the buckley parents ask buck why he doesn't have a couch after they come home from the hospital.
we find out in this scene that maddie is aware of the couch metaphor because she goes "oh, that story is too long to tell while standing."
we then get a scene in the following episode (6x12) while buck's in recovery, of him trying and failing to get comfortable on his couch.
in this episode, the 118 and co are showing up to buck's apartment to keep him company, a system created by maddie to make sure buck is fine and that he's not by himself while he recovers from the lightning strike and coma.
buck doesn't want all this attention, though, and, eventually, gets fed up and goes to eddie's house.
where he immediately gets comfortable on his couch, and falls asleep before eddie even brings the beers out.
it did make the fandom lose it, thanks so much for asking.
not directly related to the couch theory, but after buck wakes up on eddie's couch, they talk about the shooting for the first time since it happened.
couch theory kind of continues throughout the season. there's a scene that's essentially a beat by beat parallel of buck falling asleep on eddie's couch with christopher falling asleep on the couch, and the buckley diaz family implications went crazy with that one.
seriously, i'm not kidding. beat by beat.
the writers, actors, producers, etc were all aware of what the fandom thought about the couch theory and how it related to buddie, also. couches were mentioned in interviews, tweets were liked, it was a whole thing.
but, i'm assuming whatever oliver says in today's (april 25th) article about the couch theory is gonna be a little more....buddie specific than anything was during s6.
anyway, after buck falling asleep on eddie's couch everyone sort of hoped for a continuation of the couch arc that involved eddie, because obviously eddie was the couch. you have buck, who didn't want to pick the wrong couch again, who couldn't even get comfortable on the couch his parents bought him, immediately fall asleep the second he sat on eddie's couch?
insanity!!!!!! it was crazy!!!!!
i don't remember if anything happened between 6x13-6x17 that was directly in canon. obviously the fandom kept going with the couch theory, speculating all the ways that the couch could mean buddie canon (there's a lot of fic from s6 that's full of couch metaphors and couch mentions)(my fics, too).
kameron gives birth to the sperm donor baby on buck's couch, also.
i forget that detail.
anyway, end of 6x18, buck and natalia are sitting on his balcony and he turns to her and asks if she wants to go buy a couch.
people died that day.
that's more or less it. i'm sure there's more that i'm missing, but essentially, the couch theory is the idea that eddie is buck's couch, the couch representing a romantic relationship.
or, not just a romantic relationship, but the right one. buck's couch is buck settling down, finding someone to spend the rest of forever with, a family, a home.
and then he got that in eddie's house, but he was too blind to see it.
alright. i think that's it! hope it made sense :)
let's pray today's interview doesn't kill us all
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cumikering · 2 days
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Neighbour Ghost x reader 7
2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1)
“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.
Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.
He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.
“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.
“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”
It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.
“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.
That, too, was true.
Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.
It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.
It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.
It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…
He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.
Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.
He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.
And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.
Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.
Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.
“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.
“Saturday, sir?”
“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”
“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”
Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.
“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”
When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.
“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.
Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.
He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”
The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.
People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.
When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.
The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.
As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.
Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.
You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.
He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.
I don’t care how hard it gets…
He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.
With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.
So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.
It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.
Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.
He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.
“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”
Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”
Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.
He didn’t make to the top 3.
Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.
Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.
He left for his office.
“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”
He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.
“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”
Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.
“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”
He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.
“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.
Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.
It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.
Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.
“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”
Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.
Desperation was a lethal sentiment.
And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.
“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.
A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.
“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.
“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”
The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.
“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.
Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.
“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”
“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.
His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”
“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”
He laughed as another tear slipped.
Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.
He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.
Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.
His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?
With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.
He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.
It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.
“Hi, is Simon in?”
His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.
“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt
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hungerofhadarr · 12 hours
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Okay my turn for a toshiro and laios post . I have not watched the anime but I have read the whole manga and . Um . I think some of you just dislike toshiro for straight up made up reasons . Especially when you give the story time to … you know . Progress and Tell a Story ? Both of these characters are mourning the loss of falin and . You know . The whole Dark Magic thing ? This whole meeting is already full of grief and nerves and a situation that could have been resolved better … if not in the current circumstances . toshiro is not evil for snapping at laios and explaining his grievances just like laios is allowed to feel hurt over being told someone he had thought was a close friend actually did not like him but only liked his sister. This is not a complex thing
While I will Not go further into the story bc of the spoilers , it is extremely fucking Insane how everyone is seemingly ready to write off toshiro for .. a reaction made in grief and anger . Also ignoring his upbringing and the society he is used to + the fact that laios may have not meant any harm , but to constantly bombard the man with questions about “ back home “ etc etc .. yeah he is going to snap LMAO ? Trying so hard to not say it but some of this hate feels extremely … like the extreme hate for an explicitly Japanese character in media bc they do not act the correct way to you …. Look Inwards ?
Also oh my god can characters have conflicts they both get to grow from . Please . This fight was not to choose a side and stick with it . This was to show you the way these people interact and currently understand how things Are . And how they are at an extreme odds with each other . Both of them have valid reactions and they both have stepped over the line ! That is the POINT !!! PLEASE GIVE TOSHIRO ROOM TO GROWN AND DON’ T ACT LIKE LAIOS DOESN’ T NEED TO GROW TOO
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fallloverfic · 3 days
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Me: I read/watch Delicious in Dungeon for The Plot The Plot (spoilers for S01E17: Harpy/Chimera; CW blood and injury):
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And this episode we have the absolute best problem: THERE'S SO MUCH OF IT alkdjaljda
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I always loved this bit in the manga, with Kabru using logic to point out that Toshiro's frustration, while valid from a legal standpoint (and debatably from an ethical one), doesn't make any sense because he'd have done the same thing in Laios' shoes. Kabru defending Laios :3
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Kabru being supportive of Laios more T-T The soft looks. Love them so much.
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There's just something very compelling about how Toshiro is holding his hips in this shot alkjdlajda
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I know Toshiro was miserable during this but they are really cute together T-T Poor Laios wanting to be friends and being very bad at it, which is a total mood.
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Kabru protecc :3333 I just love seeing so much of Kabru's strategic mind at work this episode. He's always thinking and planning something and I love it.
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This shot was just really fucking good. In the manga, Kabru's slightly cropped out of the panel, but the way Trigger like fully defines his musculature is nice. Poor Falin :( Is okay, she gets her revenge and kills him back roflmao
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Blessed Plot TM.
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Just Them TM. Themmmm. So good.
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Couples counseling goes swimmingly alkdjaldja Also I know that Toshiro is holding Laios' leg so that Laios stops kicking his hip/ass but also that leg grab alkdjaldjalj
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MEANWHILE THE BABIESSS. Just love them T-T Kabru just being like -very modest about his own abilities-, learning for future combat situations, and also, "This man is insane and dangerous." aalkdjaldj
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I want it noted that this is Kabru looking at Laios, and while obviously the idea is to focus on Laios' obsession with monsters and the danger that poses were he to become lord of the dungeon, I keep think about that slo-mo pan-up shot and how beautifully Laios is posed here. Just Labru thoughts.
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So soft for each other, these two. Frustration, aggravation, annoyance, pain, but also envy and softness. Toshiro's little, "That's the part of you that I envy." just kills me. Lots of Toshiro softness this episode. His Japanese VA did an excellent job showing his softness for Falin. Also Laios' constant YOU NEED TO EAT SOMETHING kept getting to me alkdjaldja
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THEMMMMMMM They end meeeee T-T "I'm glad we got to chat" just ahhhhhh
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I don't think Laios is going to forget you any time soon Kabru aldkjaldjalj Bless the animation of Kabru he is so beautiful and just ahhh
This episode was so fucking good. Looking forward to next week :3
Other delicious Plot:
The Plot in Episode 3
The Plot in Episode 7
The Plot in Episode 9
The Plot in Episode 11
The Plot in Episode 13
The Plot in Episode 14
The Plot in Episode 15
The Plot in Episode 16
The Plot in Episode 17 (you are here)
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thisiscarlatrying · 11 hours
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modern!ellie hcs
notes/warnings: this is my first time doing something like this.. 😭😭 i hope u like it🙏 also, ellie and reader are dating and a lil of loser!ellie... that's just the way she is 😞
not proofread i think, i'll try to make it as good gramatically as i can but no promises 🙏🙏 (english is not my first language forgive me 😭😭)
| CONGO, SUDAN, PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DON'T BUY TLOU |
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modern!ellie who cuts her own hair.. she REFUSES to go to a hair salon, she says it's a "waste of time and money"
modern!ellie who is kind of into fashion, i think she'd dress like this or like this...
also i just know she LOVES LOVES LOVES jorts, when spring starts that's ALL she'll wear
AND you guys just share clothes, you steal all her clothes and she steals yours
modern!ellie who wears a LITTLE bit of makeup, just mascara and chapstick. highlighter for special occasions
also her lips are so dry... 😭 she applies chapstick every five minutes and is constantly losing hers so you had to get her a one of those BIG vaseline things because she wouldn't stop stealing yours
modern!ellie who is a cat girl. you guys have like three cats together and they all look like the both of you
also their names are you guys' ship names until you ran out of name combinations and the names you had to choose were something like "sardine" or "chicken nugget"
modern!ellie who just loves kids cartoons like adventure time or the amazing world of gumball
modern!ellie who is CONSTANTLY daydreaming about being spidergirl and swinging around the city (spidergirl!ellie hcs coming soon... 🤭)
modern!ellie who plays minecraft and stardew valley for eight hours straight
modern!ellie who LOVES youtube and can't have a meal without watching a video
i KNOW she loves sinjin drowning. I DON'T MAKE THE RULES 🤷‍♀️
modern!ellie who has an INSANE vinyl collection.. it's all divorced dad music but she also owns a few of your favourite albums for when you come over<3
modern!ellie who is a barista. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY. while she's studying in college or something she works part time at a cafe... picture her with her little ponytail (like 17yo ellie) and her sleeves rolled up... UGHHH😭😭 she's so fine i can't.
talking about college... modern!ellie whose major is something nerdy like physics, astronomy or engineering... or maybe even architecture since she likes drawing so much
modern!ellie who was BEGGING you to move in with her until you finally agreed.. your apartment is the cutest thing ever, i feel like ellie's decorating style would be something like this:
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modern!ellie who loves cuddling SOOOO MUCH. she's so touchy, she just IS.
modern!ellie whose burps make the entire building shake. it's actually insane and they smell so bad like.. you can smell the subway meatball sandwich she had for lunch earlier that day 😭😭
modern!ellie who constantly brags about you being her girlfriend, she never shuts up about you. and all of her instagram and tiktok posts would be about you (except from her outfit checks, of course)
modern!ellie who loves those cliche robbing movies, do you know what i'm talking about?? like those about robbing a bank or a museum and there's this incredibly unrealistic plan that comes out perfectly... THOSE kinds of movies. she eats them up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
modern!ellie who fights with people on the internet constantly 😭😭 she sees a comment on a tiktok video with an opinion different than hers? SHE'LL REPLY. and she's going to wait for HOURS for the other person to respond
modern!ellie who secretly loves laland. i said it.
modern!ellie who either sleeps for 12 hours straight or won't sleep for two days. there's no in between.
modern!ellie whose walk is so funny 😭😭 it's almost like she's jumping while she walks
modern!ellie who carries a picture of you absolutely EVERYWHERE
and your apartment is filled or pictures of both of you
modern!ellie who loves her friends. she makes those stupid tiktok slideshow trends about friends but posts them privately because she's embarrased about it 😢😢😢
modern!ellie who has a journal and writes every single thought that crosses her mind down. and when she doesn't have her journal with her she writes in her notes app
modern!ellie who secretly fucks with taylor swift's sad songs and cries to them
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okay i think that's enough.. im getting a little too carried away 😭😭 lmk if you like them or if i should make a part two!!
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estxkios · 17 hours
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Hello :3 I luv luv luv all of ur fanfics / headcannons <333
I wanted to ask if you could write a 2005 Bill headcannon where the readers style is cutecore. I haven’t seen anyone do this yet and have been very nervous to ask :0
have a good rest of your day / night you lovely person!!!
OPPOSITES ATTRACT ੈ✩‧₊˚
2005 bill kaulitz x cutecore!reader
summary: the request :3
warnings: just fluff, implied fem reader but i tried to keep it neutral :,)
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the first time he saw you he thought you were the cutest thing ever.
this man did the whole 360 turn to see if his eyes were correct!!:3 (and deep into your relationship honestly he still does this because he thinks ur just adorable !)
the pink skirt you were wearing literally made him go insane he just had to get ur number
i can imagine you giving him the just the cutest dantiest pink bracelet ever, and no matter what hes wearing or what hes doing that day he keeps it on.
like this scary looking man dressed in all black wearing this small little bow bracelet just for u :>
speaking of things like accessories, he randomly takes your jewelry, especially necklaces
one day he took one of your pink chunky necklaces to wear to an event and the other boys were making fun of him
"no way ur really gonna wear that to the event" tom would say
and bil would just confidently reply
"i think it's cute !! plus, it adds to my outfit." :>
needless to say they kept making fun of him, but bill just stood on bussiness.
he would be grabbing the necklace the whole night
just smiling and thinking of you while he touched it
another thing that bill would do is watch you while you did your makeup.
wether it be just some pink eye shadow or a full glitter look he would always be fascinated about how good it always ended up looking !!
so one day he just sat next to you while you were doing your eye shadow and said,
"me next?"
"hm..?" he just sat and looked at you patiently as you processed his request.
"ohhh !" you grabbed your brush and the pallet you were using, "which color do you want?"
he pointed at the light pink, "jus' like you"
you giggled, did he really want pink eyeshadow or was he joking?
he looked at you seriously.
you looked at him with a questioning look as you picked up the brush, rubbing it against the shade he chose.
you lifted his spiky hair out of the way and grabbed his jaw for support,
he stared directly into your eyes as you prepared to start, making you giggle
"close your eyes liebe," you softly said as you started to put the color on his eyes in the normal shape he usually did with his black eyeshadow.
"all done!" you said moments later, putting down the brush.
bill blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes and looking into the mirror.
"cute," you whispered, ruffling his hair.
he didnt say anything immediately after, but he turned to give you fat kiss, and i think that says a lot LMAO
and needless to say, you did his makeup many more times after this :3
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anyways, sorry for how short this is !! i hope i did your request justice because i loved writing it !!
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entomjinx · 2 days
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ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1113 SPOILERS!!!
It's tagged, it's in bold, if you didn't see it that's on you, but I'm sorry. (I'm also a little sick so sorry for how this starts to turn a little insane at the end.)
The reveal makes perfect sense. I've seen a few people struggle to figure out where it came from, so I'm gonna explain why it makes perfect sense and then pop off with some silly theory.
The first hint at the fact that the One Piece world is sinking exists all the way back in Long Ring Long Island.
That seems like an odd place to start, but it's the first time we're shown how drastic the tides of the ocean in the One Piece world can change. It's enough to separate entire parts of an island, causing it to appear as separate islands, once every year.
This implies that the tides change drastically over the course of much longer periods than it does in the real world.
After that, we get to Water Seven and discover that it's sinking, and that the Aqua Laguna is getting worse every year. We also know that it's caused by the water receding at Long Ring Long island. We're also outright told that they want to make the city float to stop the sinking problem.
We also, much later, see just how high Wano is in altitude.
Knowing that the Redline is so tall that it cannot be passed by any ship, cannot be broken through, and that Mariejois is sat right on top of it only adds to why it makes sense.
The world isn't "sinking," those some islands technically are(Water Seven, modeled after Venice), the tides are going to rise exponentially, and fast.
The force of the water would instantly drown most people, and those who survived would be those who could get to higher altitude islands, the sky islands, Fishman Island, or the Redline.
And because I know someone will try to point this out: land bound plant life can temporarily survive underwater, so Ohara's 5000 year old library tree would be fine for a a bit while submerged. There's lots of places with high tides who's plant life is just fine. (This also could explain why they'd be so willing to throw the books into the water. Not only was it to save them from the fire, but many of them had likely been submerged for long periods of time before. They knew the books would be find in the end because they had record of it. And well, it's mentioned in the chapter that Vegapunk means to finish what Ohara started.)
This would also explain how thorough the government was able to be with wiping out information from the void century. If only a few places can survive, then few things that tell the truth will survive, and even fewer people.
Do I think I'm 100% correct about any of this? Or course not, it's Oda. It's One Piece. Things are pretty much never predicted with 100% accuracy. But that's my thoughts on why it makes sense. Now we get into theory:
I have several points to make, so I'm going to write out the shortest ones first.
-This would, completely unironically, explain some of the centuries long racism campaign against fishman. They have no reason to fear the high tides. They will survive no matter what happens on the surface, and that scares the humans who cannot.
-I think that the extreme tide is a part of why the bridge is being built in Tequila Wolf. I believe the bridges purposes is to connect all the highest points of the world so there's no need for ships to carry them. This way, the Celestial Dragons will still have access to more slaves, produce, and anything they can't get within Mariejois on their own during the time period when everyone drowns.
-and now we get to the big one:
I think that the reason the 20 kings and their people destroyed the ancient kingdom is because the ancient kingdom had a way to survive the high tide while keeping the maximum number of people safe in the process, and while being able to save many more people. They refused to ask for help, and were instead afraid of the power the ancient kingdom held, so they sought to destroy it.
I think that the ancient "weapons" were instead a means of survival, and the reason they were hidden is because the 20 kings would have used them as weapons instead. We don't know much about the ancient kingdom, so much of this is speculation.
I think Pluton was a large enough ship that it could carry the entire kingdom. We've already seen some massive ships in One Piece, and Iceburg intends to turn the entirety of Water Seven into a ship, so the idea of an island sized ship isn't all that odd.
If you continue to think about it, why did none of the Beast Pirates manage to find Pluton while searching for the poneglyph in Wano? I have two theories for this based on the fact that we're told Wano would have to open it's borders in order to get Pluton. If the walls would need to be torn down, then we can continue to assume that Pluton is massive.
Theory one is that Pluton is is hidden within the mountain itself, and that the mountain was man-made to hide the ship. Not only would the walls need to come down, but the mountain itself would have to be destroyed. They would also need a way to survive the high tide without it, so creating a mountain that is high enough in altitude to keep them safe would have been a necessity. I think this is the more believable of the two theories.
Theory Two is that Pluton is Wano. The entire island is the ship, and many of Wano's people descended from the people of the ancient kingdom or those they rescued. This one is much less likely, but it's still a possibility in my mind.
We know that Poseidon was the former mermaid princess, and that the current one is Shirahoshi. She can control the sea kings. Why would this be important? Because if everywhere floods, then the sea kings, who are already very large creatures, suddenly have an influx of room to move, food to eat, and places to lay eggs. It would cause a population spike. *However,* that would cause an ecological disaster within the food chain. The sudden influx of sea kings would be desperate for any food they can get their hands on, and many would likely die of starvation. This means they need some way to repel them from the large ship.
We don't know anything about Uranus yet, so I've nothing for you.
Another thing we know about the ancient kingdom is that they seemed to be friendly with everyone, or at least it's implied via how many friends Joy Boy made.
Fishman: Along with the bonus of having Poseidon, the fishman also have access to the tree resin from Sabaody. Should the ship(Puton) or the ancient kingdom ever need to submerge in order to keep people safe or to have a temporary air bubble, They'd be safe.
Lunarians: The people who originally lived on top of the redline. Sinee the redline is high enough to not sink, it would have made sense for them to be trade partners.
Skypians and Shandians: Another race with wings. if the tides really got too high, then they could join them in the sky sea for a time. They could also trade with them.
Minks: Zunesha was a friend of Joyboy's. We don't know much else about that situation, but it's likely that Zunesha is plenty tall enough to keep the minks from drowning, and they could have traded often as well. Maybe Zunesha was even able to do something similar to the giants.
The Giants: This feels like the most important one to me, and not just because of recent chapters. Obviously the giants think very highly of Nika/Joyboy, but it's also very likely that Elbaf is tall enough to survive the high tide, and if not, the the giants themselves are. If you look at what's known about current giants, some of them are tall enough to walk along the sea floor, and the ancient giants were so large that it's said they pulled and moved continents.
Why is that bit important? Because a ship the size of an entire island would likely need a lot more than sails buoyancy to move quickly. The ancient kingdom was pulled by the giants. They moved to different areas to rescue people and to trade so that life continued while the tide was at it's highest point.
Another random thing that supports this is the giant's vehement hatred towards Charlotte Linlin. She has Totto Land, which is supposed to be a place where all races live in harmony, but it would be a mockery of what the ancient kingdom was like, and for giants, who live about 300 years, that's only a few generations back. They would still have stories about the ancient kingdom and remember the truth.
Again, I don't think anything I predict will ever be 100% accurate, but I hope you enjoyed my rambling nonetheless.
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