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hxney-lemcn · 3 days

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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his.

Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

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the-travelling-witch · 2 days

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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body.

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media.

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings.

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer. Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy.

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable.

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform.

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes.

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality.

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine.

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him.

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

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valkyrieeeee · 1 day

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You have surgery | Han Jisung

ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,

ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!) Edited!

As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand you're holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.

A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.

"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.

With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.

As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.

Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.

Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.

You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.

Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?

And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. How are you feeling" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.

"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.

A flicker of sadness passes through his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. Do you remember? We've been together for a few years now."

You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."

Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.

"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.

You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.

"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.

With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.

And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.

You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.

"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."

Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."

You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"

But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."

As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.

Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.

"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."

Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."

"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.

His gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.

After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.

As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.

During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.

When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.

"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.

As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.

Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.

With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.

But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.

Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.

Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.

You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.

Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."

You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."

As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.

Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.

You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."

Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."

With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.

As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.

Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.

As he continues to feed you spoonful's of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.

"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.

Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon.

Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.

Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.

"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.

As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."

You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."

Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.

"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."

Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."

A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."

You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."

As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.

*·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like. © Valkyrieeeee 2024

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aquagirl1978 · 2 days

Text

To Love a Sinner - William Rex x Reader (Ikemen Villains)

A/N: Happy Birthday, William! My first entry for An Invitation to Crown, hosted by @judejazza

Pairing: William Rex x Reader

Prompt: linked fingers

Word Count: 1006

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI; established relationship; reader is afab; piv; fingering; reader is referred to as "good girl"

A sin is nothing more than a sin.

It was very easy to love William. Yes, he was a sinner, and you accepted that, but he was so much more than just that. He was kind and compassionate to a fault, and he helped you find your true voice. With each sin he committed, you found yourself falling deeper in love with him, falling deeper into the darkness that was his world.

“What do you want for your birthday, Will?” you asked as you gazed up at a pair of adoring eyes.

“I want what I want every day.” His eyes narrowed, and his smile widened, sending heat rushing through your body. Your cheeks already warm, you looked away; one look at his beautiful face, and you’d be lured into his wicked ways.

“Oh, please don't be shy, my dear sweet robin.” He pressed his palm gently against your cheek; your face tilted towards him as you leaned into his touch, your lips quivering as they searched for his.

He dipped his face to yours, soft lips barely brushed against yours in what dared to be a kiss, his whispered words warm on your skin.

“Tell me what you want.”

Words escaped you as you let out a shuddering sigh. The look of pure, unbridled lust in Will’s eyes as he gazed down upon you was almost too much to bear.

“What do you desire?” he asked again. His body was gracefully poised over yours, close enough to feel his heat radiating through his clothes. His hand curled around yours, threading his fingers through yours.

“Kiss me,” you requested breathlessly, knowing this would only be the beginning of a night of sinful pleasure.

The tender expression that washed over his face told you precisely how happy he was to hear you express your wishes. He pressed his smile against yours, happily granting your desire. As your eyes drifted closed, the sweet scent of roses filled your lungs and Will deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Your hands moved on their own accord; your fingers, finding the buttons on his shirt, began to clumsily unbutton them, one by one. Will let out a sound, deep and beautiful, once you undid enough buttons to slide his shirt down his shoulder.

Your hand, now on his bare skin, continued to push his shirt away, exposing his back. Breathing him in, savoring the sweet taste of strawberries still lingering on his tongue, you pressed your palm against his flesh, pulling him closer to you.

Crimson nails crawled up your thigh, pushing the silky material of your skirt out of his way, his fingers pressing into your sensitive skin. A pleased grin graced his handsome face as his hand traveled up your leg until he found your most sensitive spot. You dug your nails into his back, your hands sliding across the wide expanse of fair skin, not caring if you left any marks, gasping when he slid a finger inside you.

He broke the kiss, gently pulling away from you. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his blood-red eyes mesmerizing as his thumb stroked your clit, this single touch making you forget everything but him.

“I want you, Will.” Your voice was soft as you whispered words only for his ears. “I want all of you.”

“Then that is what you shall have.” He shifted his body, his face still close to yours, your legs spreading for him. He slid two fingers inside, slowly stretching you, enjoying the lewd sounds he elicited from your lips.

You let out a small whimper when he removed his hand, your body immediately craving his. He quickly removed his belt and undid his pants, freeing his erection.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” he said as he guided his tip inside you. He covered your mouth with his, swallowing your moans as he pushed inside, slowly stretching your walls.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his grin wicked as he held your hand in his, bracing himself as he began to rock his body against yours. A maelstrom of emotions brewed in your belly as you allowed yourself to freely indulge in this sinful pleasure. Will filled you with a pleasure so great it could only be good, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. A reminder that he liked to see your adorable face, and you liked to see his. Sliding his hand down your thigh, he guided your leg around his waist, allowing him to penetrate you deeper, your lustful moans melodious to his ear.

“Close your eyes and come for me,” he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding between your legs. Once he found your sensitive spot, his long fingers teased you, coaxing your soft, sweet sounds until you came undone in his hands. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised; you squeezed his hand as your trembling body succumbed to the pleasure he provided, his body soon joining yours in a state of absolute bliss.

You held his head close to your chest, your heart still beating wildly while night's embrace calmed you both.

“Did you have a good birthday?” you asked quietly, your fingers combing his messy hair. He looked up at you, his crimson gaze tender as he looked at you with adoration.

“Yes.” He flicked his eyes up to meet yours, his thumb traced light circles on the inside of your wrist, your hands still clasped together. “Maybe my best yet.”

One look at the radiant smile he flashed you, and you knew he had carved this moment on his heart.

“I love you, Will.” You squeezed his hand, not ready to let go. Not today, not any day.

He pulled your joined hands to his lips and brushed a chaste kiss across your knuckles. “I love you, too,” he whispered back.

One day, the sinner would have to pay for his sins. But that day wasn’t today. And until that day came, you were going to love your sinner until his very last breath.

Tagging: @starlitmanor-network @redheadkittys @themiscarnival @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee

@kookie-my-little-sunshine @pathogenic @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer @nightghoul381

@judejazza @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia

@ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings

#invitation2crowncc #ikemen series #ikemen villains #ikevil #william rex #ikevil william #ikemen fanfic #ikevil fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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shmolish · 2 days

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Oh, I have an idea for the Shadow Milk cookie And you can add yandere and Hypnotism. Please and then I liked it.

Please Here the plot:

A Shadow Milk cookie comes out of the tree. And Pure Vanilla Cookie and friends, including T/N Cookie. Shadow Milk cookie watched everyone, but he saw you and watched you for so long that he wanted to make you his. After that, Pure Vanilla Cookie and friends, and you They ran away, and you ran away in the other direction. After that, she found herself in a beautiful forest, vwhere there are beautiful flowers. T/N Cookie didn't know how it got here, maybe it's lies Shadow Milk cookie, no?

After that, she took a book about the plant and read, soon she read it and saw some kind of apple tree, but the apples were blue. She decided to look in a book about blue apples, but it didn't say. She decides to come closer to see it, but a Shadow Milk cookie appears and offers to eat this fruit, but she refuses to do so, then Shadow Milk cookie uses hypnosis to get her to eat this fruit. Then she eats this fruit and she doesn't feel well, eyes T/N Cookie After that, her heart turns blue and His eyes were blue. Shadow Milk cookie picked it up and decided to make it his own.

AN: MY FRIENDS ARE YELLING IN THE VC AND I CAN'T FOCUS.

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Yandere, hypnotism

-At Last-

"Ah! Doesn't this air just feel... divine?"

Shadow Milk had just broken out of the seal and was staring everybody down... until he locked eyes with you.

As you'd gaze into his now hazy eyes, you could see a crazed smile appeared on his face. His entire mind was clouded with thoughts of you and only you. Your eyes, your body, you soul, everything.

"Oh, has my little doll come to visit me~?" Shadow Milk Cookie would move behind you, snaking a hand around your waist.

"What- no get off of me!" You push him off of you, and you can see a glint of frustration appear in his eyes.

Then, he'd smile. His maniac laughter began to fill the scene, sending a chill down your spine.

"Everyone, it would be best if we retreated for now!" Pure Vanilla called out.

The others would nod and quickly fled from the scene, including you.

Everything was so hectic. Walls would start to crumble and screams of terror filled the kingdom.

Eventually, you'd find yourself in a forest, far away from everyone. You must have gotten separated in the chaos.

A panic soon set in and you'd look around desperately for an exit, but the more you'd look around, the more you could admire your surroundings.

It was a beautiful forest. Flowers of all kinds would surround you, and the moonlight peaked through the leafy canopies above.

It was so... mesmerizing. A wave of calm washed over you and you sat down near a bed of flowers.

Something about this forest just pulled you in. It was so peaceful... maybe a bit too peaceful.

For just a fleeting moment... you wondered if it was all a lie. It all seemed too good to be true. Maybe Shadow Milk had set this all up to catch you off guard.

Then you saw something peculiar in the distance.

It seemed to be an ordinary tree bearing fruits. It would stand in solitude in the center of an opening, and the moon seemed to highlight it's every feature.

The fruits in question were apples; blue apples. You had never seen anything quite like it. It got you curious, so you took out an old book about a variety of plants. You searched and you searched, but there was nothing on this strange flora in front of you.

Working up some confidence, you'd step closer to the tree.

You just gazed absent mindedly at the strange fruit until shadows around you began to warp.

From them appeared a familiar face:

Shadow Milk Cookie.

"It's so good to see you again, my love!" He'd say while happily twirling you around.

He'd only stop to see exactly what you had been looking at prior to his appearance.

"Oh, so you found this old thing?" He picked one of the apples from the tree and held it out to you. "It's a beauty, right? Why don't you try one?" He continued to smile, holding out the blue apple.

"No way, I'm not eating that," You'd say, pushing the fruit back towards him. A scowl appeared on your face as you continued to glare at Shadow Milk.

"But doll.." He'd get closer to you, grabbing your chin with one of his hands and forcing you to look upon him.

"You really should eat it."

You'd continue to gaze into his eyes, which you swore got just a little bit brighter.

The world around you all became a blur. All sounds, except the beating of your own heart, had been muted.

The ground beneath your feet didn't feel solid anymore. You felt as if you could fall at any second, yet you felt so chained down at the same time.

Shadow Milk would gently trace your face with his finger, still holding out the apple, though slowly proding it closer and closer to you.

Every one of your senses where focused solely on the apple, and you'd mindlessly take hold of it.

Without even realizing, you had taken a bite of it before quickly dropping it and coming to your senses.

The damage had already been done though. The world was still a blur, but instead of focusing on the apple, your mind had become clouded with thoughts of him.

"Aww look at you~ I always knew blue suited you best, my little doll! Now we match."

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and your whole world felt as if it were spiraling.

Shadow Milk would admire this fragile being, gently tracing a finger over every one of thier features. He had waited for so long to claim ownership of what he had rightfully declared his, and now he has finally done it.

Even if they'd sway, it was only because they had not yet become used to the side effects. Carefully, Shadow Milk Cookie would take them in his arms and carry them away to some secluded corner of the world.

He just couldn't risk anybody else seeing you! And it's not like you needed to see anyone else either. Your heart belonged to him now. It beat to keep you alive just as it beat to keep him alive.

He was never going to let you leave, since what Shadow Milk Cookie wants, Shadow Milk Cookie gets.

#crk #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #shadow milk crk #cookie run kingdom shadow milk cookie #shadow milk x reader #crk shadow milk #shadow milk #crk shadow milk cookie x reader #oneshot #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere crk #shadow milk cookie oneshot #yandere shadow milk cookie

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sailor-aviator · 3 hours

Text

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

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heliads · 2 days

Note

Newt x reader Bridgerton AU. Reader, the diamond of the season, is the Duchess of Hastings. She wants to marry someone who likes her as a person and isn’t after her money. Newt, son of a widowed viscountess, needs to marry to save his family’s reputation because his sister Sonya was seen alone with her fiancé Lord Aris before they were engaged. The anonymous writer Lady Whistledown is Ava, a widowed modiste who has her nose in everyone’s business, and Aris is the only one who knows.

'foxes and hounds' - newt

masterlist

The start of a new social season, although intended, supposedly, to be a cause for joy, feels rather more like a fierce uprising of dread, not celebration. Across the ton, young maidens find themselves new entrees– or, entrants– to the marriage mart. This game of rings and dances, men with ambition and women with more, will end in blissful happiness or deepest discontent. And all will be witnessed by every worthy family from one corner of the country to the next.

If all goes according to plan, an eligible would-be bride will find herself engaged to a man she loves, a man in possession of a handsome fortune and a sterling reputation. If luck slips past her, she’ll settle for someone decent, or someone without any income at all. If nothing goes in her favor, her first year in society will not be her last as a single woman. She will have to repeat her attempt the next year, this time without the glimmering aura of a new arrival, and hope that something within her has changed enough to attract a proposal. Otherwise, she will sink to the bottom of the pile of dance cards, ignored, abandoned, and grown up into a spinster. All that hard work gone to waste.

You’ve heard many young women discuss the marriage mart with nothing short of absolute terror in their voices. A good opening season can seal a girl’s fate forever. Attracting the eye of a worthy man is an impossible task for all but the best of the rosebuds, or so it seems. Most of us will settle for something halfway decent– a tidy sum per annum but nothing extravagant, a man with casual disinterest but nothing harsh. Something that can be shaped into something good, or at least ignored in favor of not being alone. Such is the romance of a married life.

You, however, hope to extract a little more out of the whole affair. As the Duchess of Hastings, you have no need for money. A marriage would be nice, the final touch on the portrait of a successful lady, but you do not require the financial stability of a husband. You have plenty of money and plenty of friends. You will inherit your estate. If you look for a husband, you will look only for love.

One would think, then, that entering your first season among the eligible women of the ton would be bereft of the panic permeating through most of your friends in search of husbands. However, when you line up with the rest of the young women to be presented to the Queen at the start of the season, you find that it couldn’t be less true.

Your stomach is in knots, even as you sweep confidently through the corridor to wait outside the door. The white feather in your hair stands tall and proud. Your dress is crisp and finely stitched, the highest of fashion yet never gaudy. You attract stares wherever you go– from the other girls, envious and jealous and heartsick, from the men, longing and cutthroat and mercenary– but pretend they don’t phase you in the slightest. As duchess, you’ve had plenty of time to grow accustomed to onlookers. You won’t allow them to interfere with you on this all important day.

At last, your name is called, and you enter the throne room, your mother behind you. You keep your steps small but light, and seem to float towards your queen. When the time is right, you sink into an elegant curtsy. The moment seems to last forever, your knees bent, your hands shaking slightly, but when the queen calls you to stand, you look up to find her smiling benevolently at you.

“I believe I have found my diamond of the season,” she announces.

The room erupts in polite applause, and you do your best to smother a smile that’s entirely too giddy to be proper. As you retreat from the room, you gaze at the faces surrounding you, trying to remember which ones look genuinely happy for you and which seem to be identifying a prize pig for the slaughter. When the town gossips all gather later to share their thoughts on today’s proceedings, you’re certain that some of them will attempt to discredit you, saying that of course the queen would choose the duchess as her diamond, but you know just as well as all of them that you deserve the honor today. You were the best of everyone here, and it’s plain to see.

Among all of them, your gaze catches on a singular man, almost lost in the crowd from all the bodies packed together but no less entrancing. What strikes you the most is that his face seems kind, and his eyes sparkle with pride as they watch you go. Pride for you, for your accomplishments. As if he couldn’t be more delighted that you of all people were named the season’s diamond.

Then you’re gone from the room, and the kind man is no longer before you. Still, you puzzle over the encounter long after your carriage takes you home. You don’t believe you recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything to sway you towards any decision. An image of the young man swims in your mind– short, dirty blond hair, an upturned mouth, dark eyes, his face almost spritely. Clever, for sure.

You know better than to mess with clever men. Clever men are the type to try and twist your mind, convince you that they only love you then attempt to make off with your money. You know full well what marriage to you will offer any would-be suitor. This season, you may be looking for affection, but every man in the room will be after your fortune. The task of finding someone who truly cares for you will be a difficult one indeed.

So, clever men or not, you’ll have to keep your heart under close guard. When the first ball of the season comes to be, you don one of your finest dresses, and firmly admonish yourself to be careful. The game of hearts is not one that you lose. Either you win, or you destroy yourself.

You time your arrival carefully, so as to make the best entrance, and your efforts are rewarded. From the moment you’re announced, all eyes turn to you. Were it not for your extensive experience with being scrutinized in the grand magnifying lens that is the ton, you’d be nervous to have that many people looking at you. Even still, you can’t pretend you don’t feel a small flutter in your stomach.

It gets easier once you sweep further into the room, once people start smiling at you again, when the conversation picks up and you’re asked for your first dance of the evening, which you accept. Your partner is a charming man named Minho– dark hair, witty eyes, an excellent sense of humor. He’s athletic and a decent dancer, and by the time the music stops, you’re back to your usual self again. You can’t stop yourself from mentally sizing up your dance partner. He seems nice, and you wouldn’t be bored around him, at least. His family owns land. Although he’s not of your precise social standing, few are, and he’s close enough to you that it would be a respectable match.

Still– still, you think to yourself, as you move away from the center of the floor once more to consider your dance card, it’s not quite enough. You want love, you want a spark, and you didn’t quite get that with Minho. There are plenty of eligible suitors here, though, and many more balls to come. You’ll have other opportunities to select a match.

A few dances later, though, your feet are beginning to feel heavy and you’re still no closer to finding someone of interest than you were at the start. A good lady of extensive training such as yourself should have no problem dancing the entire night through with a pleasant smile on her face, but you’re still human, still tired, and your charming demeanor is beginning to pinch at the seams before long.

The music for the latest dance ends, and you curtsy to your partner, praying silently that no one else will be looking to fill your dance card for the next rotation. However, when you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of many anxious faces. Something inside you wilts, perhaps your endurance.

Before the mobs can descend upon you, however, a figure appears in front of you. You sigh in relief to see one of your closest friends, Miss Teresa Agnes. “Teresa! And here I thought I wouldn’t have a single good friend all evening.”

Teresa laughs, her dark hair shining. “I would never abandon you. Certainly not when our diamond is sparkling so spectacularly tonight.”

You smile at her. “I’m not the only one who’s sparkling, Teresa. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Teresa says sincerely. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce someone to you. This is Viscount Newt, a good friend of mine. I met him through Thomas.”

You smile to yourself as Teresa turns to beckon someone towards you. Teresa has been harboring a not-so-secret admiration for Thomas since you were all small. This is her first season in the social circles, too, and if she doesn’t come out of it with a proposal from Thomas, you’ll think the sky has fallen. Even now, he’s watching her fondly from across the room, trying to pretend as if he isn’t pining madly while Minho teases him for it.

“Here he is at last,” Teresa says, and all of a sudden you can’t think about Thomas’ case of lovesickness for a second longer, because Teresa has brought her friend before you, and you know him. It’s the stranger from your presentation to the queen. The nice one, the clever one. The one that caught your eye, and then your imagination.

You curtsy automatically, and Newt bows. Once the two of you straighten up, you’re able to observe him more closely. You’d only gotten a fleeting glimpse earlier, but now you can drink in the sight of him, and you do. His eyes are dark, but catch the lights like stars. His mouth has a habit of twitching up at the sides, as if he’s always thinking of a joke but just barely managing to keep it at bay. When he looks at you, he really looks at you. You’ve been stared at all night by would-be suitors, but their gazes never went farther than surface level. Right now, it’s as if Newt can see through to your very soul, and most intimately of all, appreciates it.

Teresa gives you a confused look, and you realize you’ve been standing in silence for longer than is probably courteous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“I must return the sentiment,” Newt returns. “Teresa has talked about you many times. I’ve been quite eager to meet you.”

“I hope I’m worthy of what she’s told you,” you say.

Newt smiles again. “I believe you’re even better than that,” he tells you.

Teresa is looking at you with an odd smile. “I believe I’d better let the two of you get to know each other, then,” she says, and sweeps away before you can stop her.

Newt laughs. “She’s been wanting to set us up for ages. For a friendship, I mean,” he breaks in hastily. “Apparently, she thinks we have a similar sense of humor.”

“I look forward to finding that out myself,” you smile.

Newt’s eyes flash with mirth again, delighting you. Behind you, the music picks up again. Newt extends a hand towards you. “Would you mind if I shared a dance with you? Unless, of course, you’d rather sit for a while.”

“I’d love to dance,” you say quickly, and it’s true. All of a sudden, the pain in your feet is gone, as if it had never existed at all.

Newt smiles and takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor. The orchestra begins its melody, and you start your dance. You make a mental note to ask Teresa a little more about Newt later; he dances like an aristocrat, but he speaks so freely to you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced in a suitor before.

Newt arches a brow as he steps through the dance. “Sizing me up, are you? It may be improper of me to ask, but I do hope I’m meeting your requirements.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I’m simply appreciating your mastery of this dance. Nothing more.”

Newt laughs easily. “Of course not. It’s not as if everyone else here is doing the same thing right now. Every dance partner is a strategy meeting. In just a matter of minutes, you’ll walk away knowing if I am a worthy wager, and I will do the same. This ball is full of hounds and foxes, my lady. We all know our parts.”

You glance at him, feeling a curious grin tugging at your lips. “And which am I? Fox or hound?”

Newt returns your proud gaze. “I suppose we’ll find out at the end of the season, won’t we?”

You laugh, feeling oddly triumphant. Newt has this way about him that you find enchanting. It’s almost breaching impropriety with how candid he is around you, but it only makes you trust him more. The dance ends far sooner than you’d like. Newt relinquishes you to the storm of suitors outside, hopefully with just as much reluctance as you.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Newt is truly the only one that stands out to you. You don’t have a chance to dance with him again, but you keep making eye contact as you dance with other partners. You can practically hear his clever words in your head, catching you in the act of evaluating the suitors in front of you. Fox or hound?

When the ball ends and you return to your carriage for the ride home, you’re blissful, practically dreamy. You’ve had enough time with Newt to dream about it until the next ball, where you’ll likely repeat the same cycle over and over again until the season ends.

However, your golden mood is shattered when your chaperone sits down across from you. Her face, by contrast, is twisted with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into?” She asks once the carriage pulls away.

Still caught up in the heady dream of a merry boy who smiled the brightest when he danced with you, you don’t realize the trap descending around you until it’s too late. “What trouble?”

Your chaperone’s lips purse. “You’re meant to be dancing only with eligible gentlemen, my lady. I should hope that you’d be able to recognize the suitable candidates from the unseemly by now.”

The veil is pierced, and you’re beginning to be brought back to earth. “What are you talking about? I thought I made perfectly reasonable choices with my dance partners.”

Your chaperone shakes her head, a quick, sharp gesture. “All but one. Goodness, haven’t you heard about the trouble with that one family? I can’t believe Miss Agnes had the nerve to introduce him to you, but perhaps the fact that she’s so besotted with Lord Thomas is upsetting her mind.”

Your heart freezes in your chest. “You can’t mean to say that the Viscount is not a suitable bachelor? What else could he be?”

The other woman sighs. “You don’t know, do you? My lady, I would not interfere if I did not feel the need, but I can assure you, his motives with you are purely mercenary. That man is desperate for something to cover up the follies of his family, and you, my dear, are the perfect gilded shield.”

You feel cold. “What follies?”

“His sister, Miss Sonya, was seen alone with her fiance,” your chaperone murmurs at last. “Lord Aris. I would think you would have heard his name, although perhaps not connected it with Viscount Newt. Miss Sonya and Lord Aris were happily engaged, and by all accounts it was a fine union, but they were seen together without a chaperone past dark. Quite the scandal. The Viscount knows it and is eager to get the ton talking about anything but his sister’s misdeeds. Entering into a courtship with you would do just the trick.”

She’s right, and you know it, and you hate it. “He seemed so genuine,” you whisper, and instantly know how foolish it sounds.

Your chaperone, to her credit, is kind enough to take pity on you. “He did,” she tells you, “and you looked happy together. You would be less happy, however, when you found out the truth. I would rather you know now and stay away. Men like that are nothing but trouble.”

You nod solemnly, turning your head to watch the dark landscapes rumbling past. The sun is already beginning to rise, a hallmark of a late night out. It had been a beautiful night up until this, and now the entire evening is ruined in your mind.

“I feel for Miss Sonya,” you whisper. “She was already engaged. They were just talking.”

“She knows the rules of society, and so do you,” your chaperone reminds you. “We all have our roles to play.”

And the consequence of setting a foot outside your role is instant public mortification. Yes. What a forgiving world. You immediately plant your exhausted body in your bed when you return, hardly sparing the time to wash and dress, but the only things to bloom from your rest are troubled dreams of the boy that could have been yours. Now that you know the truth– that Newt was only trying to use you for a better reputation– every interaction with him is tainted.

You’d meant what you said in the carriage, though. You did think Newt was genuine. Hadn’t he laughed more than usual when he was with you? Hadn’t he regarded you with that fierce pride of his, as if he’d finally found a mind that was an equal to his? Hadn’t he watched you with something akin to jealousy when you danced with the other men that weren’t him?

Hadn’t you wished he would only dance with you? And don’t you wish that you could truly do what you promised yourself and marry only for love, never mind the rest? It is a simple dream to think that love is easy. Marriage is not simple, not in the ton, not in your lifetime. Every one of your days will be shaped by the whims of society, even when they take Newt away from you.

When it comes time for the next ball, you do your best to strengthen your spirits before you go. You intentionally avoid him, making sure to always have your dance card full whenever the music ends. It’s easy enough to find a crowd large enough to hide you from him, and yet you still catch glimpses of Newt from across the hall, several partners down, in a carriage many behind yours. You successfully go two balls, then three, without seeing him, but it aches like a knife in your ribs when you think about what could have been.

As it turns out, you’re not the only one wishing you were with him. At the fifth ball of the season, your attempts to distance yourself from the viscount are foiled at last. Newt tracks you down, signing his name on your dance card before you can stop him before leading you out to the dance floor.

“That’s a rather abrupt way of asking a lady to dance, don’t you think?” You ask as you curtsy.

Newt bows. “I felt it was the only way of guaranteeing that you would dance with me.”

“A lady never declines a gentleman in need of a dance,” you remind him.

The music picks up, and the two of you begin your paces. “A lady also never avoids a gentleman as thoroughly as you have at the last few balls,” Newt says. “Were it not for the fact that I know you to be as perfectly agreeable a duchess as there could ever be, I would say that it was personal.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, even with his hands on you, guiding you through the steps. “It’s not meant to work out, my lord. Us, I mean. We cannot forget the rules.”

When Newt speaks again, his voice sounds hurt. “Why not? Forgive me, my lady, but I remember what it was like that first night. You were happy. We were happy, and happy together. What changed?”

At last, you risk a glance towards him, and instantly regret it. Newt’s eyes are filled with genuine hurt. Are you wrong? Did he actually want you as more than a cover-up? “I heard about your sister,” you say as delicately as you can.

Still, Newt flinches as if you’ve hit him. “You don’t know the full story,” Newt says raggedly.

“Then tell me,” you beg him. “I would choose you if I could, but everyone seems to think that you are only interested in me to advance your station. Give me a reason to believe in you, not them.”

“I can’t say it here,” Newt whispers.

“I can’t go somewhere with you alone,” you tell him quietly. “Especially not after what happened to your sister. You must tell me now, or we will never have another chance.”

“Alright,” he says at last. “But you mustn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Once you agree, Newt begins to speak in a hushed whisper hardly audible to you, let alone the other couples around you. “Sonya is deeply in love with Lord Aris, and he is in love with her. So much so to the point that he has been battling a deep rage ever since that awful gossip rag, Lady Whistledown, slightly disparaged her last season. He took it upon himself to find out Lady Whistledown’s identity, and somehow, he did. The only problem is, Lady Whistledown is not someone Sonya would consider a friend. He wanted to warn her about the dangers of being anything less than perfect around that insidious writer, and he didn’t want to waste a moment. He called on her to meet with him as soon as possible. He didn’t think they would be seen, but they were, and of course Lady Whistledown ran with it to discredit them in case they would reveal her.”

You suck in a harsh breath. “It was never anything wrong, then. He merely wanted to protect her.”

Newt nods. “Lord Aris is a good man. He never would have done something like this if he realized how it would backfire. He regrets it daily, even though all he wanted to do was keep my sister safe. The ton knows their characters, too. Neither of them would do anything unseemly. The rumors diminish by the day, and soon, it will all be over. They will be happily married.”

He sighs and looks at you again. “I tell you this to explain myself, and to clear my name. I have nothing to hide from the situation with my sister and her future husband. In fact, it is only because they directly asked me not to spread this information that I haven’t gone public with the identity of Lady Whistledown herself to spare their reputations. I have nothing to fear, my lady. Certainly nothing that would make me risk the happiness of my marriage on a good rumor. I would court you because I have never met anyone like you before, nor do I think I ever will. You are utterly entrancing in every possible way. If you do not wish to be with me in that fashion, I would understand.”

You shake your head quickly. “I do want that, my lord. I want you.”

A careful smile slips across Newt’s face. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” you tell him. “I have wanted you since the moment I saw you at my presentation. I would have found you no matter what lies they spread.”

Newt grins. “I believe I have decided something important, my lady. About your inner nature.”

You arch a brow as he spins you. “And what is that?”

“You’re a hound,” he informs you matter-of-factly. “Sharp and bright. Brave, too. But, then again, I am a hound as well. We make quite the pair, I think.”

“I think so too,” you tell him. In the days to come, rumors will abound about the viscount and the duchess. At first, there will be surprise across the ton, but then, even the most tenacious of gossips will realize that this makes perfect sense. The most clever of men and the most ambitious of women, bound together in holy matrimony. Even the best of poets couldn’t concoct a story that beautiful.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

the maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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sombrashe · 3 days

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i love ur blog!! it would be super cool if u did a norm x reader but the reader is like a wastelander/from the wastelands or something like that!!

content fluff, first kiss :3, both reader and norm are weird little things he's just more sexually inclined, gn!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) thank you so much for the kind words ;-; i hope you enjoy this !!

It's been three weeks since you joined the rag-tag group. Two vault dwellers, a ghoul, an ex-BOS member, and a wasterlander. Sounds like the beginning to one of The Ghoul's bad jokes. He calls them dad jokes but since over half of you didn't have a dad the idea was lost to the sand. Plopping down you go through your nearly empty pack.

"I think me and The Ghoul should go on a supply run."

Your voice rose to speak over the horrid wind pelting small clouds of sand into the side of the burnt-out husk of a house. Everyone looks you over and immediately starts speaking over each other to argue about the dangers of leaving into the storm. Raising a hand you let out a short shout to gain attention which works wonders.

"I've lived in this desert all my life I know how to keep sand away from my skin, I'll be fine. The Ghoul is pretty much unkillable. We need food. My pack is empty."

You try to sound reasonable. It's been days of your group being holed up in this shithole and honestly, you wanted out of there even for a little. As close as you have grown to each member of the group you barely have any time to yourself anymore.

"What if you get lost?"

"It's a small neighborhood, I'll be fine. I promise."

"You can't promise that and you know it."

Norm's voice chastises you despite his face hiding his true concern. You knew he just wanted what was best for you. Him being the one person you opened up to the most. His easygoing attitude and similar resting face made it nice to tell him about any worries. And you had a lot especially living on the surface. Something he was slowly becoming accustomed to.

"Why not take one of us instead?"

Lucy speaks up. Her eyes search your face, hoping you'll change your mind.

"The only one I would be willing to take is Max, but he's out of commission."

You point to his leg which sits propped on a toppled bookshelf. Trying to save Lucy from a radscorpion cost him a rolled ankle.

"The Ghoul is no-nonsense, he'll get us in and out, and if he doesn't... I'm sure youse guys can win a 4 v 1."

You give a wide smile showing them that you mean what you say. You just wanted to get this over with. You've been thinking about this for hours now. Watching as your already small assortment of supplies dwindled.

"Please, just let us go."

"Don't I get a say in this sweetheart?"

"No. You want 'ta find their dad as much as the rest of us. Not me, I'm here for all the warm company."

You roll your eyes and sling your pack over your shoulder. Norm stands just as quick nearly shoving you over in the process. You steady yourself against his bicep. Only for a second before you yank your hand back as a warm heat burns your cheeks. You walk around the room collecting anything you might need. An extra pair of pants wrap around your face. Nice and snug according to Lucy. Making eye contact with Norm you feel the need to look away. His eyes are so expressive and they're begging you to stay. You go to give him an awkward hug hoping to make the feeling in your stomach go away. He doesn't bite and gently untangles the fabric from around your jaw. Your goggles skew your peripheral but you know everyone is staring. You can't hear the mumbling as he leans forward. You can't even hear the wind whipping broken glass into the side of your hideout. You struggle to hear anything over the roaring of blood rushing to flood your head. Especially when his lips connect with yours. You lived a hard life and went through unimaginable pain, but this kiss, even for a moment, made you forget everything and everyone. His lips were so soft a stark contrast to the sharp broken skin of your own. Your hands lay limp at your side as you attempt to kiss back. This was all quite foreign to you but you wanted to make it work. Needed to make it work. Deep down.

"Come back to us. To me, please." He whispers directly against your lips.

Reaching up he ignores Lucy's inquisitive eyes as he gathers the untangled mess of denim. Slowly he affixes it back together and into a tight shield against the elements. He gives your cheek one quick squeeze through the thick layer. You thank the cover because you couldn't stand letting everyone see your grin even if Norm picked up on your eyes crinkling. Turning around you opt to look at the floor as you walk over to the strong oak door. Luckily the wood stayed mostly strong for these past 200-odd years with only a corner piece missing. Flinging the door open you call back to The Ghoul to hurry up as you disappear into the screaming darkness.

#fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #norm maclean #norm maclean x reader #sombrashe writes

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sixgunluvr · 3 days

Text

I suck so bad at titles. Let me know if you have a good one for this.

Mature readers only, 18+, pairing Arthur with a female reader, dominance & submission, not too rough though

3.668 words

Your hand connected hard with Arthur's cheek, sending a loud smack echoing through the night. The sound of your palm against his flesh was like a shot of electricity, igniting a spark that traveled down to your core and settled in the pit of your stomach.

"How dare you?!" your voice cracked with pain and pure fury.

The sting on your hand was nothing compared to the raw emotion coursing through your veins.

Arthur recoiled from you as if he had just received a physical blow, bringing his hand up to his cheek. He was taken aback by your sudden eruption, eyes wide as he looked at you in shock.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he exclaimed, rubbing his cheek.

"Micah told me of your little whore in town today!" you screamed. Your chest heaved with rage and your fists clenched at your sides.

You had spent the past week waiting for his return, holding onto the memories of your passionate encounters and the tenderness he had shown you. You believed that his feelings for you were just as strong, that he would want nothing more than to come back to you as soon as he could.

But now, as you stood there in the middle of the night, facing the man you thought you knew so well, your whole world came crashing down.

Arthur had a look of utter confusion, "Micah? Whore in town?"

"Darlin I haven't a clue as to what you're talking about," he protested.

You looked to all the men sitting around the fire. They all had looks of confusion on their faces. It was clear that none of them had heard about any such thing as a "little whore in town."

You looked Arthur up and down. He had the same rugged, handsome face that you fell in love with. His medium-length brown hair was disheveled from travel and his green eyes had a hint of worry. His muscular build was evident even through his clothes.

But now something felt different.

"What's going on?" one of them asked, breaking the stunned silence.

But you couldn't answer yet. Your mind was racing with thoughts and emotions, and you were struggling to process everything. "I-I need some time," you stammered out, before turning and rushing off into the darkness.

Arthur called your name running after you and caught up to you, grabbing your arm.

"Stop, wait! I don't know what that bastard told you, but it ain't true!" he said urgently.

You turned to face him, eyes glistening with tears.

"Then what is it, Arthur? What am I to you?" you asked, voice shaking with emotion.

He looked at you for a moment, then stepped closer, pulling you into his arms.

"You're everything, darlin'. I've been gone for a week, and I couldn't stop thinkin' about you.

My body aches for you, darlin'. I missed the feel of your soft skin, the taste of your lips, and the way your body responds to my touch.

You looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and fear, searching his eyes for the truth. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I know I ain't been here for a while, but I swear to God, it don't change how I feel about you. I need you, darlin'."

You didn't know what to think. Micah was not exactly known for his honesty, but there was something in Arthur's eyes that convinced you that he was telling the truth. You couldn't help but soften at his words.

Slowly, you nodded your head in understanding.

"Why would he make up such a story?" you asked, leaning your head against Arthur's chest as you took in his soothing scent.

"Be cause he's an asshole and he's been after you since day one. He's gonna do whatever it takes to break us apart.

But I promise you, there ain't no one else but you," he whispered, before capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. Your bodies melted into one another as his hands roamed over your curves. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat from his body spreading throughout you like wildfire.

Your tongue darted out, exploring the depths of his mouth as if you were trying to taste his very soul.

"Oh, Arthur," you murmured against his lips before he nibbled on your lower lip, biting down gently. You groaned as he slid his hands down your back, gripping your ass firmly before grinding you against him.

You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing into you, and it made your thighs rub together in anticipation. His fingers found the hem of your dress and tucked it up, exposing your bare flesh to the cool night air.

The sensation of his rough fingertips against your delicate skin sent a shiver down your spine, causing goosebumps to break out across your body. Arthur's hands continued to roam, squeezing your ass before moving up to grope your breasts through your blouse. He pinched and twisted your nipples until they were hard nubs, making you gasp against his mouth. A moan escaped your lips as his fingers found their way between your legs, brushing against your slick folds.

"Oh Arthur," you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with pure desire.

At the sound of your moan, Arthur's self-control snapped. He roughly turned you around, pulling you tight against him.

You could feel his hard cock against your ass.

His hand was wrapped around your throat, not choking but possessively firm. His other hand was between your legs, two fingers plunged deep inside your pussy. A third finger rubbed against your clit, making you moan as pleasure coursed through you.

"You like that, darlin'?" he asked, nipping at your earlobe.

"You wanna play rough?" he asked , his voice gravelly with arousal.

All you could do was nod, unable to find your voice. You could feel your wetness running down your thighs.

Arthur's fingers moved inside of you with precision and skill, finding that spot that sent you into a spiral of pleasure. He applied just the right amount of pressure, stroking and massaging until you were gasping for breath.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, your head falling back against his shoulder.

"You dirty little slut," he growled in your ear, his words sending another thrill of pleasure through you.

"You want me to take you right here, don't you?"

His fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, each brush making it harder for you to breathe. You could only nod, whimpering as the pressure inside of you built higher and higher.

The thought of him taking you out here in the open, with the whole camp just a few feet away, was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Arthur's hand tightened around your throat, not enough to cut off your air but enough to remind you who was in control. His breath was hot against your ear as he continued to plunder your pussy with his fingers.

"You're mine," he growled, withdrawing his fingers from inside you with an audible pop before pushing you to bend over.

Your hands braced against a nearby tree, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The cold night air didn't stand a chance against the heat radiating off of your flushed skin.

Arthur hiked up your dress, exposing your nakedness to the elements. You shivered in anticipation, a whimper escaping your lips as you felt him fumbling with his belt and pants. His hard length sprang free, hot and heavy against the curve of your ass.

Without warning, he thrust inside you, filling you up completely.

You gasped in pleasure as his cock bottomed out, the rough hair on his balls tickling your clit with each movement.

"Oh, fuck me," you groaned, pushing back against him in an attempt to take him deeper.

Arthur took the hint and began to move, thrusting into you with the raw force of an animal. Each stroke hit deep inside you, touching something that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

The cool night air around you contrasted sharply with the heat building inside of you, stoked by each punishing stroke.

Arthur's callused hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he fucked you with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath.

"You're so tight, so wet, darlin'," he grated out, his voice low and strained. "So fucking perfect."

His praise only served to drive you higher, to push you closer to the edge of ecstasy. You could feel yourself getting close, that familiar tension starting to build deep inside of you.

"Don't stop," you begged, as he slammed into you again and again.

Leaning over you he grabbed your neck once again.

In a low gutteral growl he demanded,

"Say it, darlin'. Tell me who the fuck you belong to."

You could feel his breath against your neck, hot and heavy.

Without a moment of hesitation you moan out,

"You. I belong to you, Arthur."

His grip on your neck tightened in response, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

"That's right. You're mine and only mine. That fucker, Micah will never have you," he hissed, as he picked up the pace.

His hips moved with a fierce urgency, driving in and out of you with a bruising force. With each thrust, the tree bark dug into your hands, leaving small crescent moons imprinted on your palms. You didn't care; you welcomed the pain. It was another reminder that this man, this outlaw cowboy, was claiming you as his own.

Your pussy clenched around him, gripping him tight as the tension inside of you reached its breaking point.

With a cry of pleasure, you toppled over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like a wildfire. Your vision went white, and for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. You had never felt anything like this before, not even with Arthur.

But somehow, Arthur seemed to know exactly what to do. His cock remained rock-hard inside of you as your pussy clenched in spasms around him. He continued to thrust into you, causing another wave of pleasure to crash over you.

You had never been so filled up, so completely and utterly dominated by a man.

"Please, Arthur, please," you begged, not knowing what exactly you were asking for.

Arthur obliged, quickening his pace as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cool night air. He let go of your neck and reached around to grip your breasts. He pinched and pulled at your nipples, eliciting a high-pitched cry from your lips with every stroke.

The combination of the pain and pleasure pushed you higher and higher, and you could feel another orgasm rushing towards you like a tidal wave.

"You come for me again, like a good girl," he growled.

Arthur never slowed down. In fact, if anything, he picked up his pace. With one hand still gripping your breast, the other moved down between your legs. His fingers found your clit, already swollen and sensitive from the attention it had received, and began to rub slow circles around it.

Each rotation made your hips buck, seeking more friction. You could feel yourself getting close to the edge again, and it was a sensation that both thrilled and terrified you.

"That's it, darlin'," Arthur growled in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. "Come for me again."

His words were like a trigger, and with one final thrust of his hips, you toppled over the edge once more. Waves of pleasure washed over you, making your legs tremble and your vision go black.

Your orgasm seemed to last an eternity, each contraction of your muscles sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through your body.

Finally, you collapsed against the tree trunk, gasping for breath as your racing heart slowed. Arthur withdrew from you slowly, leaving you feeling sore and empty. You knew there would be bruises on your hips and thighs tomorrow, but you didn't care. The pain was a reminder of what you had just experienced.

Arthur pulled up his pants and turned you around, gathering you into his arms.

You could feel the tremors wracking your body, and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

"Easy there, darlin'," he said softly. "Let's get you inside."

He led you back to camp, his arm around your waist for support. The men around the fire watched as you passed, but no one said a word. They all knew that Arthur had claimed you and were wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves.

Arthur threw a blanket over your shoulders, tucking it around you to stave off the chill in the air.

When you reached Arthur's tent, he gently guided you inside, settling you onto his bed. You could still feel the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through your body, leaving you feeling almost boneless.

"Don't move," Arthur said softly, before disappearing into the night.

You lay there on his bed, wrapped in the warmth of his blanket and the memories of what had just transpired between you.

Your skin was still flushed from the heat of your bodies, and you could feel every tender inch of your flesh that Arthur had touched.

He returned a few minutes later, carrying a steaming bowl of water and a washcloth in one hand. He set them down on the small table next to the bed before kneeling between your legs. The intimacy of the moment was not lost on you, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of him seeing you vulnerable and exposed.

But then, Arthur had already seen every inch of your body, had already claimed you as his own.

The memory of his fingers inside you, the scrape of his fingernails against your sensitive flesh, made a shiver run down your spine. You wanted him again, wanted to feel the weight of him above you, wanted to hear the rough growl of his voice as he thrust inside you.

Arthur's eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them. He knew exactly what you were thinking, knew exactly what you needed.

He took the washcloth from the bowl and wrung it out before bringing it to your core. You gasped as the warm water washed over you, soothing your sensitive skin. Arthur's touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he cleaned you up before tossing the cloth aside.

"Open for me," Arthur said gruffly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You obeyed without hesitation, spreading your legs wide so that he had full access to your dripping pussy. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, his cock twitching in his pants.

"Fuck, you're soaked," he said, his voice low and raspy. You blushed at his words, feeling self-conscious but also turned on. You had never been so wet for anyone before.

Arthur's eyes held a primal hunger that made your heart race and your skin flush. You watched as he stood, slowly undoing the buttons of his pants, letting them fall to the ground. His cock was already hard, already pointing at you like an accusatory finger.

"Please," you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for.

"All in good time," Arthur said, crooking a finger at you. "Come here."

You stood, moving towards him on shaky legs.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath hitching as you watched him stroke his cock.

"That's it, darlin'," Arthur growled, his voice thick with desire.

You stopped in front of him, your hands trembling as you reached out to touch him. The skin of his cock was like velvet over steel, and the heat of him made you gasp. Arthur's eyes fluttered closed as you began to stroke him, matching the rhythm of his own hand.

"That's right, darlin'," he murmured, "just like that."

You whimpered as he took your hand in his and wrapped it around his cock, guiding you in how he liked to be touched. His other hand came to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your breasts were pressed against his chest.

"Look at me," he commanded, and you obeyed, gazing into his eyes as you continued to stroke him. They were dark with desire, filled with a fierce hunger that made your stomach clench with anticipation.

With his free hand he began unbuttoning your blouse, revealing your breasts and tight hard nipples. He bent down and sucked one into his mouth, biting down gently and teasing the sensitive bud with his tongue.

"Oh, God," you moaned, your grip on his cock tightening as pleasure coursed through you.

He switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with attention until both were hard peaks of desire. All the while, you continued to stroke him, mimicking the motion of his hand on his own cock.

His fingers tightened on your hip as he guided you towards the bed.

His other hand was still wrapped around your own, working the length of his cock in a slow but steady pace. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, scorching your chest as he feasted on your tits.

The pleasure was so intense it almost brought you to tears, but Arthur's hand on your hips held you firmly in place, pinning you between the heat of his body and the cold of the bed behind you.

"Goddamn, girl," he grunted against your skin, biting down on your nipple.

"You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

You could only nod, too lost in pleasure to form words. His fingers found your entrance, slipping inside easily as you moaned in appreciation.

"So fucking tight," he growled, his fingers crooked and hitting that spot deep within you that made you see stars.

He pumped them in and out of you at a slow pace, drawing out the sensation until you were begging for more.

"Please," you gasped, reaching down to grip his wrist.

Arthur's fingers slowed, and he looked up at you with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Please what?"

"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I need more."

He smirked, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet sound. You whimpered at the loss, but before you could protest, he pressed his cock against your entrance.

"You ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and husky. You couldn't speak, so you nodded frantically.

He quickly turned you around and held your hip with one hand and pushed your back down with the other.

You planted your palms on the bed and locked your elbows.

Tonight he was all about dominance and control, and you couldn't help but submit to him.

He spread your cheeks apart and paused to admire the beauty of your body, before slowly pushing the tip of his cock inside you.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

His grip tightened on your hips as he thrust into you, filling you up with a force that left you gasping for breath.

He wasn't gentle or considerate - he was raw and unhinged, exactly how you liked it.

The roughness of his treatment only heightened your pleasure and excitement, your slick pussy gripping him tightly as he thrust into you. With each stroke, you felt yourself get closer to the edge until you finally tumbled over the brink, crying out as the ecstasy washed over you in waves.

Arthur didn't let up, continuing to pound into you with reckless abandon until he too reached his end. You collapsed on the bed, panting heavily as he pulled out and flopped down next to you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

You could hear your own breathing, shallow and labored, and the sound of Arthur's chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The air in the tent was thick and heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you lay there, sated and spent.

Arthur was the first to break the silence. "You okay, darlin'?" he asked, turning to face you. His eyes were soft, concerned, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for him.

You nodded weakly, still trying to catch your breath. Arthur smiled and pulled you into a tight embrace, his hand gently stroking your hair as you tried to regain some semblance of normalcy.

But the truth was, nothing about this felt normal. You had just experienced something intense and primal, something that went beyond mere physical pleasure. It was as if Arthur had claimed a piece of your soul, and it left you feeling both elated and terrified all at once.

As the silence stretched on, you couldn't help but feel the weight of what had just happened bearing down on you.

Your body still hummed with pleasure, but your mind was racing, trying to process the events that had unfolded between you and Arthur.

Arthur's arms tightened around you, as if sensing your thoughts. "Don't worry about it too much," he murmured in your ear, his voice soft and soothing. "We both wanted it, and there's nothin' wrong with that."

His words seemed to calm you, and you relaxed into his embrace. But as the minutes ticked by and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, a sudden thought struck you.

Had anyone else in the camp heard you and Arthur? The idea of being caught in the act sent a thrill of fear down your spine, but it also fueled your desire.

With a sly grin, you reached out and wrapped your hand around Arthur's growing erection, giving it a squeeze. "Again?" you whispered in his ear.

Arthur groaned and rolled on top of you, pinning you beneath him. "You're insatiable," he growled, his eyes dark with desire.

"Only for you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

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kitchenisking · 23 hours

Text

Day 4

Seires Fic Rec part 14

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis - (Queer Your Coffee) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,084, sterek)

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

It's a Beautiful Night by khasael - (Hale and Hearty) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,887, sterek)

Just because they're all almost used to fighting against the Creature of the Week and assorted other Bad Guys, doesn't mean it doesn't get Stiles's heart rate going.

Dream a Little Dream by Yoiko - (A Little Dream of Me ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,101, sterek)

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. And since this is my dream you’re going to let me do it.”

All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man. by devilscut - (There are nights when the wolves are silent and the moon howls.) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 11,687, sterek)

A shell-shocked Stiles regroups with the pack to find his father who has been kidnapped by the Darach. Their search leads them to the Nematon, where their confrontation with the Darach reveals her plans and that there is more to being a True Alpha than they know. Derek and his family's legacy is at the heart of her schemes and when the Darach has him under her control Stiles begins to realise the extent of how much he really cares for the sourwolf. In true Scooby-doo fashion, the villain has told them of her plans but more shockingly to Stiles she also reveals a very important aspect of his and Derek's relationship.

The virtue of patience by nofeartina - (Patience) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,827, sterek)

Stiles isn't afraid of admitting his feelings to Derek, but that doesn't mean that Derek wants to hear it.

Or the one where Stiles knows that all good things come to those who wait.

I Feel Like You Can't Feel the Way I Feel by i_might_be_in_over_my_head - ( Einherjar MC ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,087, sterek)

“Fuckin A, dude! The last time you gave me that look I ended up in the woods in the middle of the night, lost my inhaler, and almost died. Please tell me why you’re always trying to get me killed?” Scott shook his head resigned. He knew Stiles was going in and nothing he could say would change that. “If we wake up dead tomorrow just remember this was your idea.”

Stiles threw his fist in the air enthusiastically, almost punching Scott in the face, and turned to the door. He knew if he didn’t go quick Scott would probably change his mind and he’d have to start all over. “Dude that was sophomore year of high school, let it go! Plus dead body! We had to go. We’ll just have a drink and check it out. It’ll be fun!”

fingertips have memories by thatworldinverted - (let's talk about sex ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,800, sterek)

Pochemuchka (Russian), noun: a person who asks a lot of questions.

"I saw the way you watched me, when I was home last month. How long have you been dreaming about getting me on my knees?"

seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin - (covalent bonds) - (Rating: T, Words: 4,153, sterek)

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

These next two fics go hand in hand. 😇

The One with All the Kids by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 6,527, sterek)

Derek didn't know what he did to deserve to have this again. A house full of people, of family. He's going to be forever grateful to that rouge witch for what she did for him and Stiles, because after all the hurt they went through together, many years later, they're standing in the Pack house, in their house, surrounded by their family.

A New Hale by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,543, sterek)

The Pack meets the werewolf cub that Stiles and Derek gets placed with them on Christmas.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #seriesficrec

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shamythelazypotato · 2 days

Text

"Going back" AvA AU

First part of this / Next part

"A weekly battle?" Chosen asks with a confused look. It's been a week since he moved in with the CG, and it's been... interesting to say the least. He got his own room in a pixelated place thanks to something the kids called 'Minecraft.' He had heard of it before; it became a pretty popular game for a while. But to be honest, nothing interested TCO more than conquering websites alongside Dark back then.

Ah, Dark. For some reason, his thoughts always drift back to him...

Chosen found out the kids lacked individual names. Oh, they claimed they did, but in reality, they were simply identified by their colors. Red, Green—mere descriptors that couldn't help but make Chosen scoff inwardly, How could they settle for being identified solely by their colors?

It seemed too simplistic, too devoid of identity, for Chosen, his name had always been his beacon, his identity etched into every pixel of his existence.

Powerful, glorious, strong, special.

It is true that the black hollow-head didn't grasp the importance of it at first, but after what happened, Chosen actually had time to think, not about destruction or mayhem, just actually think. And now that he thinks about it, these kids are way more different than he is or what he's used to. Still, being named after a color is stupid at least. It looks like Alan couldn't care enough to at least name them properly.

No, Chosen shakes his head slightly as his red eyes glance at the bar task under him.

It's better this way, no expectations, no destiny or something. The kids are actually lucky, luckier than he was at least.

"What are these weekly battles about?" Chosen finally asks. He reclines himself over the soft sofa on the left side of the desktop, leaving enough space to appreciate the battle that is about to start.

"Oh, that's easy!" Second says with a smile. "It's when we usually reunite together to have like a sparring contest! The winner gets one of these," Second says excitedly as she takes out of nowhere a cubic-like trophy in gold. Seems like these kids have made their whole life around Minecraft.

The red kid (Chosen assumes the youngest one) is bouncing eagerly around, throwing punches at the air and getting excited in general. Meanwhile, the green one is patting his shoulder, probably to calm him down and then pointing at himself in an arrogant way. Red only points at him, saying in a tone of defiance, "Hey! Just because you mostly win it doesn't mean you're the best!"

Green says, leaning with his hands on his hips and smirking, "Isn't that exactly what it proves? That I'm the best?"

"Ugh! Don't try to use your mind tricks on me Green! It won't work," but Chosen could clearly perceive a hint of hesitation in Red's eyes. Kids, he thinks in a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Meanwhile Blue and Yellow were standing more closely to Second, who was almost Infront of Chosen.

The blue one seemed excited as well but in a calmer way, while the yellow one shared his enthusiasm in the same level of excitement, she was also talking about possible strategics and nudging playfully at her blue partner about winning.

They really think this is a game.

Chosen's pupils look at the side without moving his head.«No wonder these kids don't know what to do in a real fight» his eyes narrow as he stares at a lost point on the desktop. His perceptive memory still remembers how the same sticks disintegrated in front of his helpless form.

Pinned, bloody, and beaten up. Helpless. Weak. Weak.

Cursors. Chosen hates Dark for making him feel this way, and this desktop is not helping at all. Ironically, the only other place where he has felt like this before. Thanks to a certain cursor.

Why did he think it was a good idea to come back to this place in the first place? Maybe his house was too painful destroyed to live in. Maybe it's because there are multiple wanted signs searching for him (not that he's afraid). Maybe it's because it doesn't matter where he is anymore.

He will grief survive anyway.

He won't fail again.

"Wanna join us Chosen?" Since Chosen told his name to the kids, he hasn't stopped hearing his name, he almost felt self conscious of it, Chosen glances at Second and says in a monotonous voice "Wouldn't it be unfair?"

"Unfair?...uh" Second trails off as he rests his hand on his chin. Second tilts his head with a curious look to the black stickfigure. "Maybe, but it's just a friendly sparring! You can even teach us cool moves or new techniques to learn! And probably-"

"I meant you" Chosen says in a dead tone, his crimson eyes flickering to see the green confusion in Second. "Isn't it unfair if you and I fight with them?" Second has a puzzled expression on his face.

"What do you mean by that? We're all the same here! Well except for you that you're super fast and powerf-"

"We're both powerful" Chosen says bluntly, he narrows his eyes slightly, «strange» since they came back from defeating Dark, Chosen tried to give his thanks to Second yet, the orange stickfigure looked confused about it, trying to deny he remembers anything about "healing powers" or "Resurrection" and thanking Chosen instead.

And just now, Second shakes his head stubbornly as he says "No Chosen! I already told you, I'm glad you appreciated our efforts but I was just as helpless as my...friends were" Second bows his head in the floor, his lip trembling slightly "I... almost died with them, until you saved us"

At the mention of death, the rest of the stickfigures fell silent and glanced at Chosen then at Second, seems like it was still a sensitive topic for the colorful sticks.

«So he doesn't really remember anything» Chosen thinks inwardly with a sigh, it's not of his surprised that Second is oblivious of his own powers, probably even Alan doesn't know anything about them.

Funny enough it's how it was only activated when he had to survive.

Chosen remembers being in control since the first time he was created, not a trigger or a reason, just a purpose

Survive

Still he's smart enough to know when he has done enough questions to someone, Second actually looks affected by what has happened a days ago before. Even the rest of the colorful sticks were silent and looking down or leaning on each other as if to reassure to each other they're good, they're alive.

«Enough probing»

Chosen sighs again

"If I join you, do you guys will let me be?" Chosen asks with the slightly twitch of an eyebrow in a questioning tone, sounding more reluctant than excited yet Chosen tries.

Second seems to not notice and he perks up at his question, his face splits into a wide smile as he says in a joyful tone "Oh yes please! It'll be fun, we promise!"

Red, who's in the right side of the desktop also smiles, he exclaims childlike "Yes! You'll see me kick this dude's ass!" Red chuckles as she shoves Green playfully, the latest snort at Red's statement and shoves back affectionately as he says "Hah! In your dreams!" And start bickering.

Yellow just smiles in amusement at his friends antics as Blue says with a more gentle smile looking at Second "Yeah! Maybe that would help us to improve our fighting skills as well!"

"My thoughts exactly!" Second beams as he approaches to the now excited stickfigures, shaking his arms up and down in anticipation.

Chosen looks at them with a questioning look for a few seconds, before his lips traitorously twitch slightly into the attempt of an amused smile. Kids

He quickly composes himself as he gets up slowly from the couch and asks

"So? When do we start?"

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