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#but yes they'd just be so precious to each other
holybibly · 2 months
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i know the pretty flushed / wolf universe has the members being really rough and dom-like but i would love to see them care and be sweet with bunny too! like the aftercare after some really rough sex being just so sweet
don’t know if you want to write them in this way but i would love to see two different sides of the alphas, especially seonghwa
For some reason, I feel sweet and tender today. So this is aftercare and light delicate touches with Seonghwa 💫
I pride myself on being able to make Seonghwa so damn sweet that your teeth start rotting 😊
Songhwa's sensual, plump lips kissed your neck lazily, lingering now and then on the deep winery bite on your neck. He purred softly, enjoying what an obedient and good girl you were for him today, letting him do whatever he wanted with you, and it made him feel inexplicably tender towards you. 
There was something in Seonghwa that wanted to spoil you and make you feel like a real queen. 
The golden glow of the candles diluted the darkness of the room, shimmering in the water and on the black marble walls. It was strangely peaceful—just the two of you, without the constantly whining and irritable puppies, and without Hongjoong, who was a veritable devourer of your attention. It was nice and relaxing to get away from all that. 
You were half asleep, soft and supple to Songhwa's touch. You leaned back against his broad chest and played with his beautiful, long fingers. The hot water was pleasantly relaxing to your body, especially after the hard day you'd had today, and the subtle scent of vanilla that emanated from the fluffy bubbles of foam mixed with orchid petals made you melt into the Alpha's arms. You felt warm and caressed, and it made you want to rub your chubby cheek weakly against the smooth, golden skin of the Seonghwa's chest. 
"Are you feeling good, honey?" Seonghwa whispered in your ear; the sound of his voice was like silk on your skin. In the slowest and most seductive way, his beautiful fingers ran over the tops of your full breasts. It was the kind of touch that took your breath away and made your heart skip a beat on the inside of your chest. Alpha's touch to you was gentle. 
"Yes, mommy, I feel so good with you. More kisses... " You asked weakly, and you dissolved even more with every single touch of the Alpha. 
Songhwa laughed softly and turned your face so that your lips were touching each other. 
"Princess in the mood for more kisses, eh?" God, his lips were softer than the petals of a flower. 
"Yes, I want your kisses, Alpha, please." 
The touch of his lips against yours was the most heavenly feeling you've had in a long time. No teeth, no vinegar, no choking—it was slow, hypnotic, and so sweet you wanted to cry from it. His fingers caressed your nipples beneath the thin bubles until they were hard and sensitive, and it felt so good—so different from the rough and forces they'd usually been playing with your body. 
Not wanting to lose this divine feeling, you whimper weakly and reach for his lips when the Alpha finally breaks the kiss. And Seonghwa obliged and kissed you again, almost chastely, with this lazy touch of hot lips on one another. 
"Aren't you the most precious of all, my little fluff? Mommy is going to take care of you tonight with all the love that my little girl deserves.".
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yearningaces · 3 months
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Your House
Your house is the only house on the hill.
Your house is a beautiful old mansion that just needs some love and affection
Your house was a steal of a deal, though nobody told you why.
Your partner disagreed, said they didn't trust the signs.
"It's old, and it's scary, you must be more weary!"
But you refused to listen. This was your home, you held firm on your position.
Because this house was yours, finally something just for you!
Not a scrap from another, or something borrowed, or something untrue.
This place was yours to love, and by God you planned to!
-
Two months have gone by, in this special house of yours.
Your partner was even more aggravated than before.
"this place is wrong! There are shadows and bad things!"
This wasn't uncommon though, they'd always wish to crush your dreams.
"This is my house, it has been kind to us. It shelters us from storms, and never asks for much!"
So they packed their bags and left, a loud declar filling the halls.
"This place is cursed! Say goodbye before it falls!"
The front door slams shut, on that mean partner of yours.
Though, you don't know if you saw their hand close the door.
-
Your house is so lovely, you have company in spades.
The sound of a child laughing and a woman singing fill your days.
You've met them all, each one by one.
They say they avoided your partner, waiting for them to run.
The nice woman who sings, all throughout the house.
"They looked so much like my spouse, who spilled my blood on my blouse."
And she sings once again, singing songs of lost love.
So you wander, to the attic above.
There you meet the sweet boy, whose skin is all blue and pruney.
"Da put me in the tub, after he got moody."
He's such a sweet lad, wanting to play all night long.
But then the sun comes up, and to the day, he doesn't belong.
Your house is so kind, so warm and inviting. The doors open for you, the lights never blinding.
And one day, you find the patriarch's room.
A comforting place, with a fireplace, and a painting of whom?
A man, tall and strong, yet painted alone, sad as a song.
The fireplace lights itself, the comfortable chair seems so inviting.
So you take a seat, unknowing of the bond you're binding.
You see his reflection in the mirror, above the cozy fire.
Standing just behind your chair, calm, in proper attire.
And he watches you with a smile, before vanishing, without a sound all the while.
Yes, this is your house. Your loving home. Full of many spirits that roam.
Some wish to play, others to sing.
Some wish to see you along, you precious thing.
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atierrorian · 10 months
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I'm not great with requests but I'll try. Can you write about Silver, Riddle, Floyd and Malleus recieving something from the reader (gn or f) like a hairtie or some cheap keychain they got and how they'd react to it. Thank you 💕
FALSKFSAFFSAF, I would have been giggling and kicking my feet. And you did great for your request btw!
Note: They might be ooc and I do apologize for that. And since you didn't specify if you wanted it to be a headcanon or oneshot, I decided to just do a headcanon, hope you don't mind! And I'll just do a gn reader!
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•At first, Silver's reaction was confused but then accepted the gift from you and appreciated it.
•And Silver appreciates the gifts you give him, it could be a hair tie (He uses it when training and even then he still uses it outside of training), a keychain, anything really as long as it came from you!
•If you gave Silver the keychain, you bet your ass that he'll use it everywhere and anywhere wherever he is and goes, you cannot change my mind! Silver is so precious I can't
•Silver appreciates the little gifts you give him even if it isn't much! Silver isn't picky when it comes to gifts so whatever you're giving him, he doesn't mind!
•Unless if it's from Lilia's cooking then...
•And Silver wears the hair tie while he is asleep and holds the keychain in his palm and clutches it whenever he sleeps!!! (FASLJKNSALNF I CAN'T, SILVER IS SO CUTE!!!)
•I am having way too much fun writing all of this, it's just too cute of an idea!!
•And Silver will also give you something in return! And he is also protecting the little gifts you gave him! Still cannot change my mind!
•Btw Lilia teases Silver but is proud and happy for Silver.
•Overall, Silver just appreciates the gifts you gave him! Whether it's small or not a gift is a gift and you appreciate it!
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•Flustered, one word is the poor boy is flustered since it was a gift from you and he appreciates any gifts from you!
•Although yes, what you give him is something small, it is still a gift from you and he will forever treasure it!!
•Be it, a hair tie or a keychain anything as long as it came from you! And Riddle may or may not wear the hair tie on his wrist and the keychain might be dangling somewhere...
•Ace teases him for it and for that, it's off with his head. (As per usual no surprises there)
•And everyone will see the little accessories that he wore and he wears it with pride.
•AND IF THE HAIR TIE ISN'T ON HIS WRIST THEN HE IS WEARING IT ON HIS HAIR!!! Omg small ponytail Riddle.
•Btw Riddle also gets you something similar and is almost shy when he sees you wearing what he gave you.
•Riddle also keeps them in a small treasure box if he isn't using them!
•Ace may or may not try to snatch the hair tie and keychain just to mess around with Riddle.
•Overall, Riddle is flustered but he also wears it with pride!! And plus he really loves them!!
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•Giggling and kicking his feet and also crushing you!!
•He can't help it, you're just sooo cute!! And the little gifts you gave him are just perfect!
•Floyd appreciates them, he really does and he wears them with no problem. Wherever he goes you'll always see him wearing the hair tie or having a cute little keychain with him.
•And I think Floyd also has a keychain that matches with Jade!! So he wears both of them and both of them are near each other!
•Whenever he sees you, he just can't help but hug squeeze and you'll see him wearing the gifts that you gave him!
•And Floyd is protective of them, if someone tries to even touch it, he will growl and will not hesitate to throw hands if it meant to protect them.
•And Whenever Floyd works, he always has the hair tie, and Azul and Jade just goes along with it.
•Floyd also treats them very delicately almost as if they were fragile like glass that breaks when you touch it.
•Don't worry, Floyd also gets you something and now both of you are now matching!!
•Overall Floyd is just really happy and giddy about it.
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•He was so happy that he almost burnt the gifts.
•We all know Malleus likes to hoard things, since it is in his nature and because it's a gift from you!
•He doesn't care if it is small he will cherish it for all eternity!
•And Lilia also teases him for it while Malleus does not even care in the slightest and just looks at the hair tie and keychain with lovey dovey eyes.
•Malleus loves loves you and the gifts you gave him and he will certainly repay you by giving you gifts as well! (A lot more than what you gave him that's for sure)
•And Malleus also wears the hair tie and you'll see him wear the hair tie really proud and doesn't care for other people's opinion. Not like it matters-
•You'll also see our little dragon boy that he is a lot happier and is wearing a smile on his face a lot more than usual... And is that a keychain dangling??
•Btw the next you open your door you'll suddenly see a bunch of gold piles, at least it's enough for you to finally renovate.
•Malleus's most prized possession and he is wearing them proudly.
•So overall, a very very happy and giddy dragon!
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YAY! I FINISHED! And so sorry if I took awhile to do this! But I am finally finish and I really hope you enjoyed this!
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linomilkers · 11 months
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Hiiiii! This is Minho/Reader/Felix Everyone is touching everyone! Hope you like it!
i.
Minho reflects on how he found these two often.
Sometimes, it feels as though they just appeared one day; Y/N and Felix both, bare faced and precious sitting on his step waiting for him to open the door. Like two oddly domesticated stray cats, they were patient and sweet, looking for food and a warm place to stay for the night. A bonded pair that couldn't be separated -- two that you would have to adopt together or it would just be cruel.
The reality of it is that Minho needed roommates and Chan told him he knew two people whose lease was almost up at their apartment. He got their information, he contacted them, they decided to meet up for coffee in a public area more for their comfort than his own (Chan not only knew them but spoke highly of them, so he felt comfortable with seeing them face to face). The only warning he was given is that these two were a pair, through-and-through, if he didn't like one of them then it wouldn't work and he would have to find two different people to split the cost of his rent. He had figured as much but the warning had made complete and total sense only when he speaks to them.
Minho wasn't going into this blindly, he did do a fair amount of stalking through their socials to see what he was getting into before he sent them the message. They were all over each other's pages, he could tell they were very close with one another and they had been for a long while. Their aesthetics were similar, what they liked correlated with what the other liked, both of them had bright smiles, and allegedly (claimed by Chan) contagious laughs. They seemed exactly like two people Chan would like and potentially two people that Minho himself might feel put off by; extroverted, loud, too forward and possibly clingy. Maybe not though - he's willing to give it a chance - to see.
He's the one with the upper-hand in this so it makes him feel more confident in introducing himself. The first thing he notices, besides that they were both in sweats and zip-up hoodies that may not have anything underneath, is that their hands were soft. Both of them must use the same scrub, he'd reasoned, because that's the only way either of them could have these baby soft hands. That's not the only thing they share either -- they have the same big eyes that follow every word his lips form to make, and the same giggle when he makes a joke, and the same twist of their head when they were curious. Honestly, it's almost uncanny; it would be enough to make him wonder had they been built in a lab to mirror each other if their personalities weren't in such stark contrast with one another.
Where Felix was more reserved, Y/N was open. She would ask questions it looked like Felix wanted to but couldn't find the wording for -- he only came to this conclusion by the way he nods eagerly when she phrases them. Almost as if she were siphoning the question right from his brain. It's really solidified when they bring out the wrong drink. While Felix was content with choking down whatever dark coffee they'd handed him, Y/N pouted her mouth and slid it from him, "You hate this," she told him, almost like she was reminding him, before excusing herself from the table and going up to the register.
In that time alone, Felix regarded him meekly, "It's one of her charms," he opened up to tell him, "If you're worried about asking for something, she'll handle it, so like -- y'know, if you're ever in an argument with the landlord, she'll go at it too. She's good at getting what she wants."
"Good to know," Minho muses, his eyes followed her, he watched closely as she interacted with the staff and strained his ears, catching words like sorry, but this isn't, and yes, with the sweet cream, thank you so much.
By the end of it, Minho had pretty much made up his mind. They were kind, they weren't too obnoxious, and he thinks he could get along with both of them well enough. All of the ground rules that he had set, they agreed to without hesitation or question (things that made him feel like an old man, like keeping the noise down after 9PM, taking turns with chores, not leaving shoes in front of the door for him to trip over and break a hip or something). He asks them when their lease ends and when they could move in, and both of them seem ecstatic, all big smiles and gleaming eyes that for sure don't make his heart race, not even a little bit.
"It was nice to meet you," Y/N grinned gently, twiddling her fingers in a wave, "Kind of wish it was mentioned that you were so cute, I would have dressed better."
"Y/N," Felix gave an exasperated sigh, swatting her shoulder, "Chan said no flirting."
"I'm not flirting! It was a compliment."
Minho's ears betray him, burning bright red as he tilted his face down, shy. Chan had given him a warning about that too, just a brief one, that being flirtatious was their default setting. He said he could handle it because honestly, that was Jisung's default setting too and he managed him just fine. But his heart thuds hard in his chest and he feels a pleasant tickle beneath his skin. He brushes it away, tells them that it was great to meet them and he'd be contacting them soon with his address so they could come see it in person before signing any contracts.
That was all a few months ago. They moved in shortly after, Chan and Minho themselves did most of the heavy lifting because Y/N and Felix were struggling with even the smaller boxes. But they moved quickly, and their first night they had most of the furniture in their room packed and their walls decorated. Felix was more minimalistic in his approach, with art pieces and wall sculptures that he strategically placed along his walls. Y/N's taste was far more eclectic and very filling -- he could tell right away that she liked to have things on her walls, plugging the empty space. He didn't know them well at this point, but he did know that their bedrooms suited them.
Before Chan left that night, he squeezed his shoulder with a big dopey grin, "Good luck with them," he patted him, "They'll probably try to sleep with you, so do with that as you will. See you later."
He leaves without a word more, and Minho is left to chew over that for the rest of the night.
And he would love to say he wasn't sure how their roommate situation had warped into what it was, but if he really looks back on it, it's clear. Chan warned him, right off the bat he told him, and Minho had brushed it off as him teasing him. The first few weeks they were getting their footing, finding their place in his home and with him. He knew he could be hard to read and typically maintained a more aloof look to him, but they seemed unperturbed by it. Either they were really good at reading people or they were just really good at reading him, and the longer they stayed the more they had him figured out. When to poke and tease him, when to leave him be, how to make him laugh, how to piss him off.
Felix made pudding for him after Minho mentioned liking it once and it left him feeling special and full. It was creamy and smooth and he is certain he ate the most of it out of the three of them. Every time he complimented the taste, Felix bristled with delight and smiled like he'd been handed a star. It was endearing -- it made his heart twitch, but, as he did with most things, Minho ignored it. He makes him a lot of things to eat, sweets mostly, and Minho swears he's getting softer around his hips because of it.
Y/N shows her care in different ways. It's almost randomized, weird things that Minho made offhanded comments about needing or wanting and a few days later it was in the apartment. She never mentioned that it was her who purchased it -- he would find a new meat tenderizer in the kitchen, ask where it came from and Felix would let him know Y/N picked one up.His laundry will be neatly folded and set on his bed if he forgets it in the dryer. When he tore a hole in the pocket of his favorite jacket, two days later it was repaired, seamlessly stitched up. The only reason he knew it was Y/N's doing was the pin cushion and threads he saw on her dresser, when he brought a package to her room for her.
They both were touchy, with each other and with him. Minho can't think of a time that they were all three watching a movie together where the two of them weren't a twist tangled limbs. Y/N was either stretched out over Felix's lap or Felix had his head against her chest, or maybe one of them was just stretched out on top of the other. Sometimes (only sometimes, definitely not all the time) he wondered what it would be like to swap places with one of them. To be the side Y/N snuggled into, or the stomach Felix burrowed his face in, or better yet - be sandwiched in between them both - but he never voices it. They were affectionate with him in small doses, doing a little more each time, like they were seeing how much he would tolerate. Y/N will invade his spot on the couch and throw her legs over his lap if she's feeling particularly brave. Felix will hug him before they part ways for the night, squeezing around his upper half tightly.
Honestly, their relationship kind of confuses him. He doesn't know if they were together or not and he doesn't ask because it isn't his business. . .but he would like to know. Because if they were, was he supposed to tell Y/N that Felix had a habit of playing footsie with him under the dinner table if they eat together? Running his feet carefully along the side of his calf, continuing the conversation like nothing was amiss, only smiling at Minho when he locks eyes with him. Was he supposed to tell Felix that Y/N's gaze was lingering on him, eyes wandering over his body after he comes home from working out, maybe taking too long to avert her gaze if she sees him walk from his bedroom the the laundry closet in a towel.
Chan is absolutely no help. He laughed at him, said something along the lines of, "Yeah, they're kind of just like that." And leaves it there. When he's forced to do more digging, he asks Seungmin's thoughts on the pair.
Before he answered, he sighed like the mere thought of responding was tiring to him, "They are and they aren't," he replied plainly, and probably would have stopped there had Minho not glared at him, "It's complicated, you should know that by now. Sometimes they have sex with the same people -- I've only seen them date separately a few times." He pulled the drink in front of him to his mouth, taking a sip from his straw and wincing at the bitter taste (Minho's unsure why he continues to get coffee with how much he hates it), "More often than not, they're going for people as a pair though; they've slept with Chan, did you know that?"
No, Minho didn't know that, but after the revelation he struggles not to think about it. How they may have propositioned Chan; Felix soft and quiet, snuggling into his side, batting his big eyes at him. Y/N more forward, pressing into him, straddling his lap and nuzzling at his throat. Both needy and cute, pawing at him, his cock -- he wonders who kissed him first. Was it Y/N, smearing her lips over him warm and sweet? Did she lure him with sweet words how she coaxes Minho to cook a new dish she's worried she'll mess up herself? Or did Felix find comfort in Chan's familiarity and press his mouth against him, firm but tender? Was he gentle? His hand pressed to his cheek, his chest to his chest?
He could see them both, on their knees, their pretty mouths open and lulling over his cock --
But he has to stop himself before he gets too far into it. These were his friends, he shouldn't be thinking about them like that, even if the thought made him harder than he's ever been in his life. Plus, he has trouble not replacing Chan with himself and that causes a whole slew of thoughts to disrupt his mind. Like morning woods that wouldn't go down even when he thinks about giving speeches in front of full auditoriums, or meeting the president (or something like that). Ones that he had to press his hips into the mattress because of, chase after an orgasm that his sleepy weighted mind begged for, before one of them wandered into his room.
Minho never thought that they would go for him. They'd never made the move to and he thinks they had plenty of chances, so he figured maybe he just wasn't their type. Or maybe they knew that doing something like that when all three of them live together would lead to trouble. Whatever their reasoning, Minho thinks it is for the best, and tries to ignore the distant twist in his chest that might suggest he's hurt by it.
They were out for drinks when it happened. Minho doesn't go out a lot but when he does, it was because Y/N and Felix had some how goaded him into it. So after a fair amount of whining and pleading, he let them pick out his outfit (they loved him in double denim, for whatever reason, and Felix is throwing the top at him from his closet while Y/N was pulling the pants from his drawer, and he should really get on them for rummaging through his things but for some reason he doesn't), they left the flat, and they went out. It wasn't just the three of them, of course, Chan was there, Jisung too, and Changbin -- frat guys through and through they were always game for drinks.
Y/N and Felix work the room as they usually do, fluttering out into the crowded space, chatting people up that they knew, that they didn't know -- Minho watches from the side. Chan teases him over it, "Are you their bodyguard?" He inquired, like he had any room to poke fun at someone for seeming protective.
"You'll need a bodyguard if you question me again."
Chan laughs because of course he does, and wiggles up to Minho, worming his arms around him and squeezing his limp but pliant frame, "I'm glad the three of you are getting along. I knew you'd like them."
Did you think I'd like them as much as you did? He wants to ask, Did you think I'd have fucked them by now?
He held his tongue, "Yeah," he replied instead, "It's going well."
At some point throughout the night, Minho had caught sight of Y/N talking to some guy near the bar. She was doing that thing she does, with her eyes, where she's treating him like he might be the only person in the world. Her gaze flickers from his eyes to his mouth, she leans in close, laughs like he's the funniest person in the room (Minho hardly believes that's the case), and he feels something in his gut twist unpleasantly. Now that he thinks about it, he's never seen them actively pursue someone -- not Y/N, nor Felix. He doesn't like it, but it's none of his business, so he drags his gaze away and to the drink he nurses in his hand (he hadn't taken a sip of it for thirty minutes at this point). He would probably head home -- Chan would make sure that they pair returned safely, that is, if one of them (or both of them) didn't end up in someone else's be--
"We'll go home, y'know," Felix startled Minho from his left side, where he'd quietly slid into the booth next to him, his voice deep, low and syrupy, "If you want to, all you'd have to do is text her. It doesn't matter who she's talking to."
Minho turned to look at Felix -- he blinks a few times, rapidly, as if he were readjusting his eyes going inside after being out in the sun for hours. Felix was in a mesh top that didn't hide much of anything, chest out, nipples pebbled from rubbing against the fabric and the cold air in the spot they were in. His sleeves ballooned out, prince-like in structure, to match his prince-like face. His lips look soft and bitten, like he'd been nibbling at them all night -- he has such a bad habit of that. . .not that Minho is staring at his lips, or anything.
"Why would I want to do that?" Minho inquired, forcing himself to sound impassive, but his heart was thundering in his chest.
Felix shrugged, "I was just telling you," he replied, before reaching for Minho's phone on the table, "She'll do anything you want. She's whipped."
Felix is normally much more shy than he was being now; more quiet, and reserved. Lines like that were saved for Y/N when she was feeling bratty and whiny because Felix let Minho pick which sweet he was baking that day, "You're just whipped for him," she'd accuse theatrically, "You'd do anything he wants, even if it was to push me off a cliff!"
Minho lets him take his phone, and watches as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, finding Y/N's contact and typing a message out.
Ready to leave
"Doesn't she want to go home with him?" Minho asks, brows knitted when Felix sent the message, "Why would she leave just because I wanted to?"
"She doesn't want to go home with him, she's just trying to make us jealous."
Make us jealous.
"Oh."
"He's not her type." Felix replied.
"What is her type?" Minho presses, but he shouldn't -- he should really stop talking.
"You," Felix answered easily, "Me."
"Chan too?" He should just shut up.
Felix stops at that, but he doesn't seem caught off guard, or even worried that Minho knew. Instead he smiles gently, leaning further into Minho's body, snuggled close, pressing his face into his bicep, "Watch her, Hyung," he murmured, directing his gaze from where Felix clings to him back across the bar. Y/N's reaching into her bag, holding out a finger to the guy she was speaking to. Her eyes glance over her screen, her lips curl into a smile, and Minho watches in a daze as she says something to the guy, waves, and pivots on her heel. She's facing him and Felix and looks so excited, like they didn't just tell her the night was over. She was wearing something similar to Felix, the top half in mesh but a bralette beneath it to hide her breasts. They always kind of match, when they go out, but still appear unique, within their own styles.
Y/N holds her hands out to both of them, wiggling her fingers, "Let's go home," she sighs, almost dreamy, like she'd been waiting for him to say it.
The walk to the car, Minho's heart still thunders -- he's got them on either side of him, hanging off his arm. Felix has his elbow hooked around Minhos left, while Y/N holds onto the forearm of his right with both hands. They giggle about something he doesn't know, and he's pressing them both into the car (he'd only had one drink, and the pleasant, fuzzy feeling he'd gotten from it had wither away just as quickly as it'd come).
"Do you wanna hang out with us in the living room?" Y/N asks, sitting forward from where she was seat belted in, her hands on either seat in front of her, "Minnie? I wanna keep hanging out."
"Sure." Has he ever been able to say no to them? He doesn't think so.
They're all over the place; Minho sat on the couch, Y/N was beside him but she was stretched out, her head in his lap, cheek resting on his thigh. The skirt of her dress had rucked up, showing more of her thighs than he thinks she probably meant to. Felix moved around, from the floor, to the recliner, sat on the coffee table, then finally settled by straddling Y/N's hips. Y/N groaned from the additional weight but accommodated him, twisting her hips so he rested more comfortably.
"Kiss me," Felix whined, pouting his mouth, and Y/N puckered up easily. She always does -- they share sweet little kisses like this all the time, that wasn't new. Small pecks, because Felix is needy and clingy and Y/N is pliant to his wants.
What's different is that they are never kissing in his lap, this close to his cock. What's different is that instead of just a peck, Felix is nibbling at her mouth, he's licking over her lips with his tongue until she parts them and he's slinking into her mouth. It's wet, Felix groans and Y/N mewls into it, his hands are placed -- one on her hip and one on Minho's thigh, digging the pads of his fingers into him. Minho can't pull his eyes away, even when he knows he should -- even when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he's struggling not to make a noise. He's barely letting out a breath, like if he even moves a little bit they'll remember he's here and stop.
And he wants it -- god he wants it. To be apart of them, in between them, on top of them, beneath them; he'd never realized how much he wanted it until right now. His fingers curl up at his sides, watching them closely, and when Felix finally pulls away to breath there's a thin string of spit connecting their lips. Minho so badly wants to lick it away.
Felix's mouth is all spit slicked and shiny, red, starting to swell. His face is flushed and he paws at her shoulders, but he's looking at Minho. He leans close, but he's slow about it, measured, like he's giving Minho an out but he isn't moving. Minho stays still, and he waits, until Felix is just a breath away and then he's smearing his mouth over his lips.
It's good -- Felix's lips are soft, and gentle. He isn't as eager to slide his tongue into Minho's mouth as he had been with Y/N, but he still pours himself into it. Minho can't think straight, not when he thinks he stopped breathing altogether, and not when Felix finally does lick at his mouth, slide his tongue between his lips, taste the fruity cocktail that Minho had drank. He let Felix set the pace, guide him, and he thinks they probably would have kept going until one of them passed out from both breathing if not for Y/N whining.
It was a muffled sound, and Minho didn't realize why it was muffled until they did part. He looked down where Y/N was staring at him, wide eyes, her mouth stuffed with two of Felix's fingers. Felix giggles, fucking his fingers into her mouth for three shallow thrusts before slipping them out. He pinches at her bottom lip, "She wants kisses too," Felix murmured, "When we fuck and I bring up you kissing her, she always squeezes tighter around me."
"Shut up," she complained, turning to look back at Minho, tilting her head, "Lix always cums harder when I fuck him with my fingers and bring you up."
Felix is already flushed but doesn't seem ashamed, he only hums and presses his fingers back into her mouth, pressing on her tongue, "Don't be a brat," he tells her, "We should be good for him, right? Don't you want to kiss him?" Y/N nodded, "Do you want to kiss her Minnie?"
Minho nods, "I do," he replied."
So they rearrange, and Y/N crawls into Minho's lap and she's on him quick. It's different than Felix, she yields to him easier, lets him guide the kiss more. Minho's head is spinning, Y/N tastes sweet, eager, lulls her tongue around his and rocks against him. Minho grabs her hips, and Felix presses back against Minho's side, snuggling against him. Minho is the one that has to pull back to breathe, sucking in lung fulls of Y/N's air, trying to ground himself in the squeeze of Y/N's hips, "Minnie," Y/N murmurs the nickname, sweet and soft, biting over his bottom lip, "Do you want us?"
"If you don't that's okay," Felix assures him, stroking up and down his arm, "We can forget about this and just cuddle."
Minho doesn't have to think for even a second.
"Yes," he tells them, "Yes, I want you both."
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nem0-kn0ws-n0t · 2 months
Text
Hermit Permits- or Hermitconomics101
I would just like to start off by saying I adore the concept. It's perfect. But also, I'm a massive nerd and I wanna talk about it.This is such a fascinating little economic model. Like, the usual hermitcraft economy is already so fascinating.
Warning-Long post! Also might Slightly skew your perspective of the Gimmick.
At first Glance, the Hermitcraft economy is the epitome of a Perfect Market economy -the basic selling/buying market you think of when thinking of markets-which has a few requirements
1. Homogenous products: gunpowder from Doc's shop is the same gunpowder from Tango's or Iskall or whoever sells it
2. No barriers to entry and exit: anyone can decide to sell. The technology's there. Any hermit can decide to make a farm or manually harvest something, set up shop and sell
3. Sellers are Price takers: If say, X and False are both selling copper ingots (for example), and X prices his higher than False (and they both keep their shops stocked), Hermits will buy from False. So X has to price the same (or lower but shhhh) than False.
4. Product Transparency: If you pay 1 diamond for a stack of iron blocks, you know you're getting 1 stack of iron. (usually) no shenanigans involved
And now the interesting point->
5. Many sellers- In a perfect competition market, the market is usually saturated with sellers, to the point that everyone needs to price the same, or at exactly the cost of production (or whatever needs to be to have the last seller joining the market to have economic profit of 0 but that's real hard to count in diamonds). Usually, this is done by having many firms coming in (free market remember) and undercutting each other until it's at the point where Supply is equal to Demand (yes, exactly the graph you're thinking of). In hermits' case, rarely is there more than one shop for an item unless there is an obnoxious amount of demand for it, and often, they'll buddy up in the same shop and split the profits and the work (I'm thinking of all the wood groups) for the highly in demand items. (More on that later).
So the sellers aren't usually competing with other hermits to sell resources- they're competing with the hermits' other way of procuring resources- The Endless Grind
Think about it- The rule of thumb for establishing the scope of a market (and its competition) is to ask yourself- where do I go if the shop becomes too expensive? In our real-life situation, we go to other shops- hermits just roll up their pixilated sleeves and get to work themselves. They are the alternative. (or Lag but stealing throws off all economic models so we're assuming it doesn't exist.)
A hermit shop, to have sales, needs to price its resources low enough that other hermits will see it as a better (cheaper) alternative than acquiring it themselves.
But Nemo, I hear you ask, isn't it always going to be cheaper to collect the material themselves? All the hermits already have all the tools/technology they'd need to get the resources they'd want, so shops wouldn't work.
But they do work, every season hermits "get rich" which implies there's something "wrong" with my model, which there is.
It's Time. That's the main currency in Hermitcraft.
Any hermits can decide to get any amount of resources with no real limit except Time. Sure, some hermits are more likely to build farms and have it done quicker than others, but all of them can decide to pick up a tool and just grind away (which they do, often). The point of the shops is to be convenient. You could spend 3 hours getting 15 stacks of oak wood, but you could also drop 30 diamonds at Ren's shop and get that done in less than a minute. Which, when you're a content creator on a tight deadline, already spending hours upon hours just building and editing and living outside of work, time is precious. So Time is the real trading currency on HC.
And so there comes a wrench in the plan as you have 2 "types" of goods- you have the Sellers' resources (that cost you diamonds but less time) and your own resources (which cost you Time but fewer diamonds)
Which invalidates point 3. Price Takers- There are 2 very different prices, which you are willing to pay at different times to different degrees. Somedays, they grind somedays they pay.
And thus, there goes the perfect competition model-
~~And in comes Monopolistic competition.
Now, listen to me, this is crucial ish- this is not the same as a Monopoly.
Monopolies imply there is 1 seller. 1. there is 1 way of acquiring the good (at this point in time) (everything is taken as if time is held constant). YouTube has a monopoly on hermitcraft videos (kind of). You can't watch Hermitcraft videos anywhere else, as the hermits don't upload their videos on other websites. If YouTube started charging 10000$ per video watched, you probably wouldn't watch hermit videos anymore. That's a monopoly.
Monopolistic competition is when a few firms sell slightly different products. Think Pepsi and Coca-Cola. They're functionally the same thing (don't @/me for this), but they both still work as companies, because people tend to prefer one over the other.
And thus our model. A monopolistic competitive market.
The real competition was not store vs store (unless for the bit), it was Sellers vs the Grind.
(There are also sunk cost fallacies exhibited, when hermits make their own farms for materials they know they'll need a lot of, which then reduces the time spent, especially with AFK'ing, thus the active time spent being reduced but server time still fluctuating but that can be hermitconomics 102 lmao)
But Back to this season-
With the introduction of Hermit Permits (which, is such a fun term, I wouldn't be surprised if they came up with that first before the concept) they are forcing there to be a single official seller. But hermits are still able to collect their own resources and make their own farms. So the market stays the same.
Which is probably not what you were expecting was it. All this fanfare but theoretically, the model doesn't change. It might change the point at which a hermits decides it's better to grind it out instead of spending diamonds, but not the theory.
But here's the second hole in this theory.
One of the first assumptions one makes about any market model is that everyone involved wants to maximize profits. (which irl, is making the most money).
But the same was as the real currency is Time, the real Profit for Hermits is Content (and engagement, and a whole bunch of parasocial scales to do with audience retention but I'm an economic major, not a sociology or business student damn it, we'll stick with Content) .
Theoretically, nothing changes in the economic model, but the result changes. The potential to change things up is massive, simply because they at least superficially changed something. Rebranding something, in a way that shakes up previously established norms- That's what they're getting out of it. Forcing people to do content about things they normally wouldn't even touch, which inspires viewers to be invested, so see our favourite blorbos overcome the challenge. It's a narrative device.
(If anything, I'd expect this to actually "promote the economy" as hermits would be motivated to stock up their shops, thus making more farms/farm building episodes, or the competition occurring from additional permits being circulated.)
So yeah. Hermitconomics 101- The not-so-perfect competition. Sorry If I burst some bubbles, I just think it's fascinating.
Thanks for reading to the bottom!
TL:DR :This is gonna be so fun, and the hermit economy makes economists everywhere cry
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mimisempai · 18 days
Text
Tender loving care
Summary
After sheltering - once again - Crowley from the rain, Aziraphale didn't expect to be rewarded with a complete grooming of his wings. But what if it became a habit?
Notes
50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts
Kiss #41: Sharing a kiss under an umbrella (aka under angel’s wings)
On Ao3
Rating G -  1326 words
Tumblr media
"Crowley, my dear, are you nearly finished?"
Crowley placed the last sprout in a small pot filled with potting soil, then placed it with the others on a shelf in the small greenhouse in the garden at the top of the bookshop before turning to Aziraphale.
"I'm almost done, Angel, just a few things to put away and then I'll be there."
Aziraphale replied, "I've come because the sky seems to be getting darker and I think it's going to rain soon."
Plic.
He blinked as a drop of rain fell on his cheek.
The demon chuckled and, as he hurried to put away his tools and close the greenhouse, replied, "You should be a meteorologist."
"Idiot."
The few drops of water suddenly turned into a downpour, and the angel's first reflex was to spread his wings and shield the demon from the rain, not caring that he had nothing to protect him.
Crowley, who had his back to him, froze, surprised at first, but then turned and came closer.
He said, looking strangely moved, "It brings back memories."
Then he smiled and, wrapping his arms around the angel's waist, continued, "But that day on the wall, there was no way I was going to do that."
Aziraphale laughed softly before wrapping his wings around their entwined bodies to protect them from the rain.
Then he reached up to push back the wet red curls that were falling across Crowley's face and dug into his jacket pocket. He pulled out something Crowley couldn't see in the half-light created by the cocoon of Aziraphale's wings. The angel brought his hand close to Crowley's face, who saw that it was a handkerchief with which Aziraphale was now gently wiping his wet face.
Crowley didn't know what overwhelmed him more: that Aziraphale was so thoughtful, that his gesture was so gentle, or that he was using one of his precious handkerchiefs to wipe his face.
He closed his eyes at the gentle treatment and couldn't help but inhale Aziraphale's familiar scent wafting from his handkerchief.
The demon reopened his eyes at Aziraphale's slight laugh and blushed at being caught in the act of self-indulgence.
Aziraphale noticed it and softly said, "Don't be embarrassed, it's very nice to see the effect I'm having on you." 
Then he frowned, seeing that Crowley had begun to shiver. Stuffing the handkerchief into his pocket, he wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and said softly, "How about we hurry home?"
Crowley raised an eyebrow and replied, "Human way or magic way."
Aziraphale raised one of his hands behind Crowley's neck and, snapping, replied, "Nobody sees us here.
With a snap of their fingers, they were back in the comforting warmth of their bedroom. This time, however, it was the angel who shivered as he retracted his wings.
Crowley exclaimed, "Angel! Tell me you're not going to leave your wings like that!"
"I will, yes. Why?"
The demon shook his head, then said softly to the angel, "I can't let you do that. Let me dry off quickly and get into some dry clothes and I'll take care of you."
"But..."
The demon nipped the angel's protests in the bud and replied, "You're going to listen to me for once, okay?"
Aziraphale nodded sulkily as the demon headed for the bathroom. Crowley emerged a few moments later, dry and clad only in sweatpants, his arms laden with bath towels, which he placed on the nightstand before unfolding one and spreading it out on the bed.
He wiped a drop of water from Aziraphale's nose with his finger, then asked gently, "May I take care of you tonight?"
Aziraphale swallowed before nodding. Even though they'd really seen everything of each other, he still felt a kind of shyness when it came to getting physically naked in front of the demon.
Crowley, seeing his nervousness, added, "You know you have the right to say no, Angel?"
Aziraphale nodded and replied softly, "Although I'm always a little embarrassed when I say yes to you, it's because I really want to."
The demon breathed, "Thank you," before planting a light kiss on the angel's cold, wet lips.
Then he began to undress him, discarding the damp clothes as he went. One by one, he undid the wet shoes, the socks, slid the pants down his legs, then, with his hands on the angel's briefs, he lifted his head and asked gently, "Still okay?"
Aziraphale, cheeks slightly flushed, replied in a slightly veiled voice, "Yes. Go on."
Crowley hummed before slipping off the angel's underwear and removing it completely. He stood up, grabbed one of the towels, and began to dry Aziraphale from head to toe, gently, not using too much force, not lingering too long, checking periodically to make sure the angel wasn't uncomfortable. Then, when the angel was dry, the demon helped him into a pair of dry shorts before sitting down on the bed, against the headboard. Then he patted the space between his spread legs and said softly, "Come here, Angel. Now I'm going to take care of your wings."
Aziraphale climbed onto the bed and sat where Crowley had instructed.
The demon wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed a light kiss to his neck before asking, as he had earlier, "Still okay?"
Aziraphale leaned his head against the demon's and replied softly, "Better than okay."
"Perfect. Then I'll continue. Spread your wings, Angel."
The angel obeyed, feeling slightly ashamed when he heard the click of the demon's tongue at the state of his wings.
The angel murmured sheepishly, "I'm sorry."
The demon placed a soothing hand on his head and replied gently, "It is not me you should be sorry for, but yourself. It's you you're not treating right."
He took a thinner towel and began to carefully wipe the angel's wings, feather by feather. 
Aziraphale, humming with appreciation from time to time, said playfully, "But you know, Crowley, it's kind of your fault that I don't take good care of my wings."
"My fault?"
"Well, I like it so much when you do it, you spoil me so much, I don't feel like doing it myself."
Crowley shook his head and muttered, "My silly angel."
He finished tending to the angel's wings, then set the towel down beside them and said, "I'm done, you can retract them now."
Aziraphale retracted his wings then, going to his knees, he turned to Crowley and, wrapping his arms around the demon's neck, he said softly, "Thank you for taking such good care of me."
Crowley replied, "I can only do this if you let me, my angel."
Aziraphale planted a tender kiss on the demon's lips before curling up against him, Crowley wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on the angel's still damp hair.
After a few moments, Crowley said softly, "You know, you can just ask me... I mean about your wings. You don't have to wait for an occasion for me to notice."
Aziraphale buried his face in the crook of the demon's neck and replied sheepishly, "I don't want it to become a burden, and besides, it's a little embarrassing to ask you something like that."
Crowley, understanding, hummed, then after a few seconds he said, "First of all, it's not a burden, and secondly, how about we make it a habit, make it a day of the week? Like every Sunday night before we go to bed. That way you won't have to ask, and I'm sure your wings will be well cared for."
Aziraphale sat up and asked in amazement, "You would do that?"
Crowley replied, "You're kidding, Angel, I'd love to."
"So would I."
"Then it's a deal."
Aziraphale, raising an eyebrow, asked, "Where do I sign?"
Crowley, a mischievous gleam in his eye, tapped his lips.
Naturally, the angel did not hesitate to put his tender signature on the lips of his facetious demon.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable kisses series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2
Part 1 Story 1-99
Part 2 Story 100-?
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genderlessghoul · 8 months
Text
A bit of Phantom headcanon with a side of Dew angst at the end.
Phantom was never meant to be Aether's replacement. He knew the rhythm guitar parts, yes, but that was required of him as a Quintessence ghoul living at the Ministry. He also knew drums, as expected of him for being part Earth ghoul.
He was originally only summoned to help around the Ministry when Copia first started touring in 2018. Quite a few new ghouls were summoned back then to make up for the 7 ghouls the Cardinal decided to take on the road with him. Such a large number made a big gap in the ghoul staff, not to mention all the ghouls who decided to go back to the Pit after the little... Accident... With the 3 previous Papas.
Ghouls are very loyal creatures after all and did not take kindly to the news of their favourite humans' departure from the mortal realm.
So Phantom learned his part, doing the tasks expected of him around the gardens and the infirmary, spending his free time with a guitar in his hand or sitting behind a drum kit. And he'd wait for the touring ghouls to come back. They'd be back with trinkets from various countries as gifts for their friends and lovers, and of course a thousand tales from the road.
Phantom could spend hours listening to Dewdrop talking about his and Aether's antics on stage, about the adrenaline rush, about the screams and adorations from the fans, the precious gift that were made for them. He'd watch the way all of them came back closer to each other than when they left. He loved them all but it's oh so hard to carve yourself a place when all the touring ghouls have been so tightly knit together by their adventures.
He longed for the stage, for the attention and adoration of the crowd, for the chance to see the world and serve his Lord in such a special way. But more than anything he longed for that bond shared between all of them.
It wasn't the same at the Ministry. Yes he had ghouls he cared for but they would barely speak in a day, all too busy with the chores appointed to them. And they would spend most of their free times alone in their room, trying to relax in whichever way they could.
His heartbreak only grew stronger when Sunshine, one of the ghoulettes who was summoned around the same time as him, got to join the band. Because they were able to make extra space for another hell creature but it wasn't him. He desperately craved to be a part of the band and he knew he could never share those feelings because that would be asking for Mountain or Aether to leave and he simply wouldn't do it. Could never do it.
Aether's always been very intuitive about other people's feelings. It's a blessing and sometimes curse that comes with his elemental affiliation. He sees the way the small ghoul looks up in awe at him and his pack. The way he's hung on their words when they tell him stories. He can almost hear the other ghoul's heart ripping when he watches his mates interacting in the closest ways.
Aether's the one who goes to Imperator and asks her to take him out of the Ghost project. Touring is fun and all but he's not getting any younger and those bus bunks, sleepless nights and rough mornings are really starting to take a toll on his old bones. Maybe she could find him a place in the infirmary? He's even willing to just sit around and do taxes all day. Surely they would have no hard time replacing him, they already have this Phantom guy who knows his part. Oh and if it could stay a secret between them, he doesn't want his mates to worry about him.
Phantom is both ecstatic and terrified at the news, what if he's not good enough? What if his bandmates hate him? What if the fans hate him? What if he disappoints Papa? All of his cares melt away the second he first step into the band practice room. Everyone there is so warm and welcoming, even Aether is there to show him a thing or two. He looks very happy for someone who's just been replaced and has to teach the guy taking his place.
Everyone welcomes him except Dewdrop. Dewdrop never liked change. He didn't like having to take on Ifrit's role, being the only ghoul part Fire still in the Ministry at the time. He didn't like his costume being changed two times. He didn't like when Sunshine first joined them. He doesn't like when new ghouls are summoned, they always want to be all up in his business. More than anything, Dewdrop doesn't like Phantom.
Aether, his Aether, has to leave the band and do taxes all day because Phantom somehow impressed Imperator enough. He's not even that good, he's heard him play before. Nothing that even comes close to Aether.
Dewdrop bottles those feelings and opts fot ignoring Phantom's existence for as long as he can, which happens to be a little after they were officially on the road again.
Dew's had a particularly long day and even longer evening. He's barely slept, he ran out of cigarettes, he misses Aeth and the food is terrible. He keeps missing his cues during the ritual and he knows everyone knows. So when Phantom makes the mistake of accidentally bumping into him in the hallway, every word comes flying out and he's screaming at the poor ghoul before he can even process it.
Why does he has to constantly ruin everything? He can't even keep his shoulders to himself, as to take up everyone else's space. Life would be so much easier if Phantom had just stayed at the Ministry instead of trying to play rockstar. He's clearly not cut out for the road or for Dew's pack so why does he even bother trying? He's supposed to be Aether's replacement but he'll never be him so what's the point?
By the time Dew's voice runs out, both small ghouls are crying. Phantom's shocked by Dew's words and is carried into his locker room by Swiss while the Fire ghoul locks himself in a bathroom.
Aether hears about the incident from Mountain. He gives Dewdrop a call the following day. He explains everything to him and begs him to stop hurting the new ghoul. He wanted Phantom to take his place.
Dewdrop leaves the call a complete mess. He's confused, doesn't know which emotion to feel first. All he knows is a truth he'd rather have never known. Aether wasn't kicked out of the band. Aether left him.
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lov3m3darling · 1 year
Text
Friendship Bracelets (Howdy Pillar x Reader)
Heyy! So I wanna start trying to write some stuff for the other characters and I can't help but notice there's not NEARLY enough stuff written about Howdy! I mean look at him! HE IS PRECIOUS 🐛💚
Anyways, an idea just popped into my head! What if you were hanging out with Eddie and making some crafts and decided to make friendship bracelets for you and your bestest friends..? What could go wrong?
You guys are friends in this, but you do have a crush on each other💚
No warnings for this one and reader is gn of course 😊
💚🐛🧡🐛💚🐛🧡🐛💚🐛🧡🐛💚🐛🧡🐛💚
Making stuff with Eddie was one of your favorite things to do in The Neighborhood. It was how you managed stress and anxiety, plus it gave you a chance to make fun gifts for your friends!
Well...and Howdy, of course.
You did consider Howdy a friend, but lately you found yourself thinking about him a little too often and staring just a little too much when you'd go to help out at the Bugdega.
You'd tell each other jokes in between customers, he usually let you have snacks and such for free, and he was always fussing over you. He was very insistent about taking breaks and he never let you carry the heavy crates...
Come to think of it...it almost seemed like he liked you, too!
You shook those thoughts away just as quickly as they'd entered as Eddie held up the flower crown he'd been making.
"What do you think, (y/n)? More daisies? Less daisies? ...does Frank even LIKE daisies?!"
You gave him a knowing smile.
"I don't really think it matters, Ed. Frank is going to love it no matter what because it came from you"
Eddie blushed and smiled down at the crown.
"You're right...hey, how are those bracelets coming along?"
"Huh? Oh! ...oh dear"
It was then that you realized you'd made far too many. You were personalizing them for each neighbor, but because you spent so long thinking of Howdy, you'd accidentally made him 4 of them!
Eddie laughed and gave you the very same knowing smile you'd given him.
"Well...Howdy DOES have 4 arms. One for each! I'm sure he'll get a real kick out of that"
You hoped so, because if he questioned it, you'd die of embarrassment on the spot.
Glancing at the clock, you realized it was nearly time for your shift at the store, and you wanted to make sure everyone got their bracelets before you headed off.
You gave Eddie his on the way out. It was the same colors as his postman uniform, with a charm of a butterfly hanging right next to one of an envelope. He rolled his eyes.
"Gosh, wonder what that's supposed to mean"
"I don't know, but I think I accidentally put an envelope on Frank's bracelet too. Oopsies!"
You snickered and skipped out the door as he glared playfully after you.
Barnaby happened to be walking by, and you waved to him.
"Hey Barnaby! I made you something!"
He stopped and smiled at you.
"A present? For me?"
You nodded, holding out the colorful bracelet with a hotdog charm. His tail wagged as he slipped it over his paw.
"Aw, shucks (y/n), ain't this just perfect? And just the right size for a little guy like me!"
You shook your head and laughed before Barnaby picked you up in a big bear (beagle) hug.
"Hey, have you seen Wally? I made him one too"
"Sorry, kid. Haven't seen him all day"
Suddenly a swirl of blue hair popped up over Barnaby's shoulder.
"Uh, Barny?" you said, pointing to it.
"Huh? I got a bug on me or something?"
He turned around so you could check, and there was Wally hanging onto Barnaby's back.
"Something like that. Wally, what are you doing?"
"Eh? Wally's back there?"
Wally smiled.
"Looks like I win, Barnaby"
A look of realization crossed Barnaby's face and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, that's right...we were playing hide and seek, huh? Fair enough, buddy, you win"
He reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a nice red apple. Wally hopped down from Barnaby's back and took it, staring at it contently.
"Oh, you wanted to give me something (y/n)?"
"Ah, yes, I made you a friendship bracelet!"
You fished it out of your pocket and gave it to him. It was red and blue with an apple charm hanging from it. He took it, but seemed slightly confused.
"That's a very small apple"
"That's because it's not real, pal. You're supposed to wear it on your wrist" Barnaby explained.
Wally seemed to understand, and slipped it on.
Everyone else loved theirs too! Julie's nearly flew off from all the happy stimming she did when you gave it to her, and Frank said friendship bracelets were dumb but accepted it anyway (you're absolutely positive you saw them wearing it later on, along with Eddie's flower crown).
Eventually, only 4 remained and it was time to head to the Bugdega. Weirdly, you felt kind of...nervous? Flustered? Hard to say, but you sure were shaky when you walked in.
"Heya, (y/n)! Right on time as always!"
You smiled and grabbed your orange apron, tying it around your back and joining Howdy behind the counter.
"So, what's new?"
You looked down at your shoes anxiously and let out a nervous laugh.
"Well, actually I just came from Eddie's..."
"Ooh, craft time eh? What'd you make?"
"I made everyone friendship bracelets just for them...including you"
"Me? Golly, (y/n), you shouldn't have! Let's see it!"
You pulled them out of your pocket and held them up to him. You waited for him to laugh at you or ask why there were so many, but when you dared to sneak a look up at his face, it was bright red.
"4 of them..?"
"F-For each arm! S-See, this one has a caterpillar charm...and this one is a little shopping bag...and this one is a heart-"
A HEART?! You must have clipped that one on while you were daydreaming!
Your whole body flushed and you bit the inside of your cheek in anticipation.
A smile spread across his face slowly and he grabbed you up in a huge hug, all of his arms wrapping around you.
"I love them..."
Later on, as Howdy was stocking shelves, he looked down at them and smiled once more, hearts in his eyes and a happy sigh escaping his lips.
"They really are something..." he whispered to himself as he watched you wipe down the counter.
Maybe one day, he told himself, he would tell you how he felt...
But regardless, he never took them off
💚🐛🧡🐛💚🐛🧡🐛💚🐛🧡🐛💚🐛🧡🐛💚
Anyone else think Howdy would be a good dad? Idk he gives off dad vibes and he is quite large.
I trust him with my life tbh
ANYWAYYY hope ya'll like this 💚
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chorizoa · 6 months
Text
entrail of faith — könig x reader
i have not properly written a fic or a snippet in so long, and I am physically aching to do so :3 plus, been obsessed with this man for like 3 months straight and it is NOT letting up— so, let me be indulgent, and nasty, and vile, and awesome while I cook up literary genius. (pls do not read my stuff if ur a minor ily mwah)
i hope u like :3 (cuz if u do I'm writing more)
cw: mentions of sex, force, and kidnapping, reader is mostly oblivious, Konig is just nasty and I'm shameless about it
synopsis(sorta): König has been a little crazy stalker, and you finally get close enough for him to make a move
———————————————————————
Konig was a good man, a routine man. His mother and grandmother had beaten manners into him, and daddy had his face shoved into a bible every Sunday morning. Everything was intentional, down to the way he stored his razors, all the way deep down to the way he shamefully ruts into his calloused palm each night. It all mattered— obsessively mattered.
Konig was a good man, a strong man. He tried so hard to keep his thoughts pure, be gentle with himself and others— lumbering about as if he were an animal latched to a ball and chain, a monster in the eyes of rookies and civilians alike— but he tried.
He can kill a man in less than ten seconds without a weapon, five with. He can dismember a corpse, and make someone seem as if they had never existed to begin with— he isn't a man of softness, he isn't a man who deserves a gentle hand, only his own thick mits that've been stained with decades of blood.
He wasn't  a man of softness—until he saw you. Effortless you. With your smile, the flowery trail of scent that tickled his nose in your wake, those fucking eyes— Konig tried to be a good man, but he wanted to so badly see them glossed over, heavy with arousal and desperation. How they'd roll when he—
Konig tried to be a good man.
— Sir? Are you ready to order?
Scheiße. Those eyes again, the way they fluttered— it was almost enough to distract him from the way that dingy little waitress get-up clung to your all-encompassing frame— and hearing the word sir  so obediently drip from your swelled lips made his cock twitch in his pants. Thank God he'd opted for the cargos today, and thank him again because you were such a good girl, you'd never peek.
Not that you'd have a chance, he loomed over you even at seated height— forcing your eyes up to meet his, seeming just much too big for the booth he shoved himself in— but, he was still shameless in the way his eyes roamed over you. At least you had the assurance he'd tip well.
— Ah- Ja, sorry Kätzen..
He cleared his throat, nervously tugging at the lip of his black surgical mask, his eyes darting about behind thick sunglasses. You're so pretty— what was he doing again? Ah, right, food. He wasn't hungry, not for anything they had here, except for you— but that wouldn't be a suitable answer, no, not for a precious little thing like you.
He could practically taste the aura that rolled off of you, you were no whore.
— Coffee- black, please. If it's not too much trouble.
Of course it wasn't too much trouble, it was your job. He was cursing himself internally, saying such stupid things to such a lovely girl. It would be easier if you were stuffed with his girth already, crying and spluttering as you struggled to fit him properly— he wouldn't say stupid shit then, but then you giggle- oh, fuck, you giggle and all the sudden he needs a freezing cold shower.
— Of course not, sir, will that be all?
Sweet girl, you should know not to smile at a man like that. Not a man like him, especially when his mind is full of bending you over this table and ruining that pretty head of yours.
— Yes, thank you, schätzchen.
He hoped you didn't know German, he hoped you were oblivious enough to let the way he was ripping your clothes to shred with his eyes go unnoticed— and of course, because you're such a good girl, it did.
— My pleasure- I'll be back in just a moment.
You are so polite, so sweet and efficient. He'd been watching you for a time now, the way you'd bustle about the café, being so kind even when majority of the creatures in here didn't deserve your time of day, not like he did— no, not anything like he did.
If he had it his way, you'd never work again. He'd throw money at you like it was a religion, give you all the codes and numbers to every bank account in his name— let you go on a spending spree, spoil you with fine lace and even better food. KorTac paid him enough, and he didn't spend a dime unless he needed something— unless he was indulging in you.
If he had it his way, you'd be dumb and obedient, you'd placate yourself to being his sweet little toy— and, oh, how he'd reward you for it. He'd keep you full of his seed, and happy with whatever object caught your affections, he'd build a goddamn castle for you. He'd never deny you a thing, as long as you kept looking at him like the most important person to exist— even if you were just doing your job.
— Your coffee, sir— oh, and careful, I just had them brew it.
Oh, you're such a darling. Fresh coffee? Just for him? You might as well give him your ring size now, he hopes you want kids.
— Lovely, Schatz, thank you.
— Of course, enjoy.
He almost felt crestfallen as you placed the bill next to him, and sauntered away, but your swaying hips could heal even the most shattered bones. Angels above, you were such a perfect thing— so innocent and lovely, you'd need to be protected, you'd need to be saved.
The heat of the coffee was nothing compared to the widely gaped blood vessels under his skin— breath threatening to catch everything he got a glimpse of you traipsing about. He had to make sure you were well distracted every time he dove in for a sip, you couldn't see his face, not yet.
If he were a better man, a more confident man, he'd leave you his number. He'd clean himself up, start a good conversation with you— take you to a fine dinner, even though he so hated the idea of something so insanely public. If he were half the man he held himself as, he wouldn't be salivating over you in an empty corner of the café.
Konig tried to be a good man, but he was slimy. He was a pervert, a danger— he'd never harm anyone— save for the men whose blood stained his hands, but he'd found himself craving indulgence in dark fantasies more than once. He was nasty, he was a monster, but he wanted to be soft for you. Simply, he wanted you, but his therapist would strongly advise against it— counseling that maybe, just maybe it's not best for his obsessive psyche.
Whatever, you'd learn to love it.
He had his reluctant fill of ogling, the tightening of his pants becoming too much to ignore, and the clatter of dishes becoming grating on his sensitive ears— he had to leave at some point. His coffee cup had long run dry, and he hadn't had the courage to waive you over for another.
If he were a better man, he'd leave you his number, but a crisp hundred to cover the bill— and leave you a tip to keep you fed— would definitely suffice. He tucked it under his coffee mug shamefully, wishing he just had the sack to speak to you— but that irritating fear of rejection always held him just at arms length.
How badly he wished he could just take you.
Everything else that wasn't you was boring, the streets were dull and gray, and rain drizzled like piss— just another way for God to mock him, punishment for his lustful behavior. Father would have a field day with him, if only he knew.
He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his soft-shell coat, rain pattering against it in an almost melodic sound. Nothing like your voice, though, oh nothing like that sound.
— Sir!
See, nothing like it, and he can't stop imagining it.
— Sir, you forgot your phone!
Oh, oh, he's not imagining that.
He whips around almost too fast, seeing you skirt on your heels as you stop your quick advance in front of him— his phone outstretched in a waiting hand. You really were such a lovely thing.
— Oh! Gott.. thank you, liebling— would have lost my head.
He wished he sounded.. cooler, smoother. But, he sounded like an inexperienced teen, stuck in a giants body. Always cringing at the sound of his own voice, but you smile and his world just fucking shifts— he couldn't give a shit how he sounded.
— it's- it's no worry, sir, I understand that.
Oh, your laugh, it's so sweet. He wants to touch you, grab you and squeeze you.
— I wanted to thank you actually- for the tip, I mean.. that was very generous of you—..?
You pause, trailing off as you look up at him. You want something, oh what is it maus? Anything. Say it, tell him— Oh, you want his name. His name. He has to fight the grin on his face.
— König— and do not worry yourself, Maus, it is no trouble. You work hard.
Now he's nonchalant, now he's found his groove. Keep being so humble, keep pretending like you don't want him to shower you in his endless wealth; keep looking up at him with those eyes that would be so much prettier coated in tears as you gagged on his thickness.
— Well, regardless, thank you, König.
Fuck, the way those pretty lips move with the pronunciation of his name— and you didn't miss a single vowel, what a good girl, what a smart girl. Oh, how he wanted to praise you like the good puppy you are, a collar with his name attached would be so pretty on you.
— Truly, Schatz, don't mention it— but, uhm-
Ah, he trailed, his fingers fidgeting with the lint of his pocket. Did he say it? Did he go for it? Either she'd be creeped, and run, or she'd be flattered— maybe even accepting. He had to keep it black and white, or he'd explode.
— Do you mind if I give you my number, liebling? I'd uh- I'd very much like to see you.. more.
Oh, he sounded like a fucking fool, and you looked so cute and patient; he was so used to drunken one-night stands, or shooting blanks into his hand when one just wasn't enough— this was so much harder when you looked like a literal angel to him, and not some cheap bimbo.
So patient, he wondered if you'd be like that while he railed you— even when you couldn't take it anymore. You were blushing, and he wanted to add tears to it, you were nervously fidgeting with your fingers, and he imagined them around his cock.
— Not at all, sir..
Today's a beautiful day. A lovely day even, the clouds had split just for him to bask in the loveliness of heaven's light— you sweet angel, you had no idea what you'd signed yourself up for.
— Perfekt. Hand me your phone, little one.
And you did, almost eagerly, such a good girl already. Following his orders so nicely, of course you did, even unlocking it before you passed it over.
His fingers never felt so nimble over a touchscreen, typing in his contact as if it were as easy as breathing— you seemed so shy, so nervous, it only made him confident. You made him confident, and he couldn't get enough.
— There you are, send me a text later, hm?
He hands the phone back grinning, he'd reward her for being so compliant— maybe work her open on his fingers just for now, a window of opportunity was wide open for him, and you were blushing all innocent and star-struck in front of him. He could not wait to ruin you.
— Yes, sir- König.. I'll do that. See you later!
— See you, maus.
Oh, you're so cute. You're so shy and it letting him read you like a filthy book. He knew you hadn't been taken care of, he knew you desperately needed satisfaction— and he'd give it to you tenfold, a sweet little thing like you deserved it. Especially since you did such a good job of hiding it behind that precious little smile.
Those eyes, they told him everything.
-----
pt.2 :3
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thinkingofausername · 12 days
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Pairing BG3 companions
I made every possible pairing and how I think they would look.
(this is just my opinion and i'm still fairly new to bg3 and i have yet to thoroughly meet the characters so there's probably inaccuracies but this is all in good fun)
Astarion:
+Shadowheart = banter, sassiness, sexiness, BIG issues with opening up, enemies to lovers trope
+Gale = canonically compete and have a hilarious grudge against each other, also canonically hilarious when irritated, beneath the comedic duo is a gorgeous romance (neither experienced genuine love, just use and abuse), canonically both are devoted lovers
+Karlach = beautiful gorgeous precious, she would adore and protect him and he could never hurt her, perhaps better as platonic but either way very nice
+Wyll = definitely Astarion teasing Wyll for being a "noble fairytale prince", perhaps stemming from Astarion's grudge about never being saved and then ironically being with a savior, Wyll would be very patient and kind and it would piss Astarion off before he had a breakdown about it
+Lae'zel = possibly the toughest combo, Astarion might like her spiciness but i'm honestly not sure what would get her to warm up to him, they're both survivors tough, under Astarion's prissiness is someone who's gone through many hardships and so has Lae'zel so trauma bonding might be possible, they could also bond about their regrets about hurting people in the past, i could see some mutual respect there some day
Shadowheart:
+Gale = don't know how to explain but this just makes sense, they would look like an obvious couple, definitely bonding about being devoted to people who never deserved their loyalty, they'd also hilariously sass at people
+Karlach = beautiful gorgeous yes, sexy girl power and all but jokes aside very precious, i mean we do remember Shadowheart's first comment towards Karlach right?, Shadowheart would definitely be receiving princess treatment
+Wyll = gorgeous couple, i can see Shadow snarking at people and Wyll sending apologetic looks but she would be very soft with him in private, he would definitely have her guard down and cherish her
+Lae'zel = no idea how to explain but Katara and Toph vibes??, the tough girl and the princess, they've got guts the both of them, they'd be badass, just two hot girlfriends judging everyone
Gale:
+Karlach = precioussssssss, they'd be so good to each other, they're both such good companions and lovers, they'd protect and cherish each other very much
+Wyll = Wyll's duty and fairness and Gale's devotion? their full devotion to their lovers? their hearts entirely in the romance? yeah i could see them being sickeningly sweet husbands
+Lae'zel = see this i think would be pretty iconic, the loving wizard and his warrior wife, he'd be so nice to her and she could heal and learn so much
Karlach:
+Wyll = oh we knowwwwww this is top tier, the prince of the group and the most precious woman on earth, obviously perfect for each other
+Lae'zel = Karlach would hug and tease the hell out of her and she would grumble so much, they'd be pretty cool and sweet at the same time
Wyll:
+ Lae'zel = yes, yes this could work, kind of similar to Gale and Lae'zel in the sense that Wyll would be very kind to her and she'd be baffled and caught off guard, i can see her changing a lot as the relationship goes on, she'd probably eventually be a bit softer and nicer, maybe a little less murdery, but obviously still cool
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zedif-y · 2 years
Text
There are gravestones in the ranch.
The world keeps turning. The sun rises and sets, the stars shine in the sky.
The worst endings, Tango thinks, are the clumsy ones.
They'd been apart, when they died.
It'd been abrupt, like the snap of fingers. Like the severing of string.
For a few precious seconds, Tango had looked around, eyes wide. Instinctually, he searches for warm, brown eyes.
He bleeds on the steps of somebody else's home, and thinks, no.
This can't be it.
And all too quickly, nothing.
Tango doesn't recall closing his eyes, but he wakes up.
He's sitting on the grass, and the sun is out, bright as the wind tussles his hair. In the distance, there's a figure.
His heart leaps in his throat, "Jimmy?"
Jimmy turns to him, eyes filled with mirth. He smiles like clouds parting for the rising sun, and it's so familiar and breathtaking that Tango stops, just a hair's breadth away.
Jimmy tilts his head, his dimple more prominent with his smile. It turns sad, and he comes forward, closing the distance between them. He cups Tango's cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb.
Tango hadn't realized he was crying, but now he can't stop.
"Jimmy- What, how..." He hiccups. "I wasn't- I'm sorry-" Is all he can say, before strong arms envelop his frame, and Tango shivers, aching with how much he had needed this.
"It's okay, Tango." Jimmy tells him. Tango's tucked his face on the space between Jimmy's neck and shoulder, breathing in deep.
He smells the faint scent of wheat, lingering on him from their time on the ranch. There's a hint of wood and spice, and a smell so distinctly Jimmy that Tango can't help but hold him tight.
"It's not the end," Jimmy says, and he suddenly sounds far away. "As long as we keep going, there isn't an end."
Tango holds him like a man starved, crying out when he feels Jimmy start to slip through his grasp. "I don't want to let go." He pleads. "I want to go home."
Tango feels a hand in his hair, and he looks up.
Jimmy pushes his hair back, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. When he talks, Tango can feel the words on his skin.
"Home is wherever we go," Jimmy squeezes him tight, and only now does Tango realize that he's trying not to cry. "I'll find you." Jimmy says, voice firm in a promise.
Jimmy sniffs, eyes wet with tears. They hold each other tight, both afraid to let go.
"I'll find you," Jimmy repeats, throat going tight. "In every single life."
Tango makes a helpless, broken noise. "We'll build another ranch," He sobs. "We'll build as many as we want."
Tango knows a thing or two about rebuilding, about rising from the ashes. He knows, like he knows himself, that Jimmy does too.
So they hold each other. Two souls, intertwined.
Then, like a candle snuffed out, there's nothing.
>Respawn?
>Yes No
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lloydfrontera · 1 month
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what are your favorite moments in tged? ❤
ooohh i already answered this a while ago actually!
how about i give you some of my favorite quotes instead :D?? these are not in order and they are not nearly all of them but <333 this is already way too long <333 and i can't choose between all of them <33
I never, ever thought once about life without Master Lloyd, not even right now. -Ch 400
"If I have to really choose between you and me for this to end once and for all, I choose to banish myself from this world." -Ch 399
You’re my only friend, Javier. I couldn’t have overcome all the obstacles in front of me without your help. So, my trustworthy and reliable comrade, stick with me until I become a lazy lord and you become my personal guard. I hope we will be able to grow old together… -Ch 327
Lloyd felt reassured by Javier's presence as he gazed at him. He could not have gotten this far without the knight. Therefore, he did not want to lose Javier and hoped they would keep bickering with each other for eternity. -Ch 361
So stop being a crybaby about your own death. You're not going to die, and I'm going to ensure it. Even it really comes our way, I will die in your place instead. I am willing to. -Ch 384
Javier had already become his best friend. There was no one else he would be able to trust as much as him even if they always bickered with each other. Lloyd refused to lose him before he could find another solution. -Ch 367
I want to tell you everything, Lloyd... But I have no clue as to how I should talk to or ask you about this. I already see you as my precious son. I am grateful for you. [...] Unable to distract his mind he simply reached out and tightly grabbed Lloyd's hand. He hoped his unspoken feelings and thoughts would be conveyed to his son: Whatever you do, whatever you hide, you are my precious son that I will always be thankful for. -Ch 333
Javier could see from his eyes that Master Lloyd was rejoicing. Not only because he had reached a new level in swordsmanship but also because he was safe. Javier felt pure Joy in Lloyd. And the feeling was mutual for Javier. I am glad that you are safe, Master Lloyd. There was no need to speak it out loud. Just a silly joke was enough. Javier's desire to protect Lloyd, and Lloyd's heart to cherish and worry about Javier. -Ch 225
"Yes, I see," the baron said as he gazed at Lloyd. "Um, but why are you looking at me like that?" "Whew, how should I say it? I just think that I am blessed to have you as my son." -Ch 122
also i just realized that i absolutely lied i do have three moments that are my absolute favorites and you will Know why
I want to protect him. Lloyd is my true master in my heart. Lloyd was his friend. And now, Javier wanted to protect Lloyd. He would sincerely protect him with everything he had. -Ch 320
He thought he'd always be with Javier for the rest of his life. Just like now, he thought they'd spend all their time together moving forward. And like they always did, they'd be by each other's side during hard times. Happy moments. Relaxed days. They'd share all these moments as they exchanged insults and corny jokes, growing old as a lazy lord of a fiefdom and his knight. Lloyd always thought so. The thought just came naturally, without much effort from him, much like breathing. Lloyd believed that Javier would always remain by his side as that was how it had been until now. -Ch 222
And he was there. The man that I missed so much, because of the realization I could never get to see him again, was standing right outside the door. He was looking straight at me through teary eyes, with a hint of joy on his face. "... I missed you so much, Master Lloyd," said Javier with a huge, tearful smile. -Ch 401
i'm not predictable what are you talking about
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year
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i need more thane. what if we made them something random (a bracelet, scarf, poems, etc) in hope that they'd leave us alone, but they just swoon even more?
-🌕 anon
You wait by the window for your divine intruder to make their enterance, knowing they could tear down your defense in an instance. Your fingers sting from how many times you pricked yourself with the needle from every little bump in the night, worrying it was them back torment you with the psychological warfare that was their love. You pray that your "gift" will be enough to save you from it for-
"Hi, Dove!"
You scream; Thane's smie widening. They stand behind you, not a single lock or door out of place. They giggle.
"Silly thing. Cute, but oh so silly. You know stuff like boards or even moving away can keep me away. Is this to keep others out instead? How romantic! Let's kiss."
You distance yourself before they can grab you; holding out the scarf you made. "No today. Look- I made you this as an offering. You can have it, if you leave me alone."
Thane's interest is peaked higher than before, but your words falls on deaf ears. For a split second, everything becomes sluggishly slow. You can count each eyelash before your eyes close for you to blink. As you finally do, the scarf is gone from your hands; wrapped so slightly around Thane's neck their head looked like it would pop right off. They stroke the tail end of it against their face as they sigh dreamily.
"Oh, Dove. How am I ever supposed to part from you when you've made me such a wonderful present. You spent precious hours of your life on me who has countless. Aha- I've come up with a counter offer."
Thane removes the scarf and throws it around you, using it to propel you into their chest. They gently kiss your cheek. "I give you my heart, and remain by your side for the rest of our days. Sound a thousand times best, yes?"
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kairos-polaris · 4 months
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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?
Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "yaoshifollower"?
my name is a game reference! i picked it in April-May last year when i just started playing hsr and we got introduced to the aeon/god of abundance Yaoshi, i really liked their design and the idea that even good blessings can be harmful if taken to extreme. which is why i am their follower!
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now, for my top ten fics, i am going to limit myself to jjk only but i can do a general list too if anyone is interested
(not ranking them because it's something i always struggle with ranking anything)
1. every jjk fic by voxofthevoid @voxofthevoid, because they'd take up the entire list otherwise. i can't chose one favourite tho the way it follows you home, the stories i never told and isolation neophyte, too afraid to taste your conscience are close contenders for the first place
i adore the way he writes Gojo, that arrogant selfish bastard, and Yuuji, my precious baby can do no wrong 🥰, their interactions with each other and people around them (gege could never). and the smut is always top tier, i am still not over one particular line and i don't think i ever will be
2. still water by movequickly. it's ita/fushi, a canon divergent au from 212 chapter of manga and i just really love Megumi's characterization, the introspection on his relationship with others, something we lack in manga, and Sukuna specifically. also there is minor suku/ita and i am obsessed with the fucked up flavour of it!! like yes yes, this is exactly the way i want them
3. putredine by EvilPeaches. hints of ita/fushi, but mostly suku/ita. also another perfect depiction of the fucked up relationship Sukuna and Yuuji have. Yuuji wins but loses so much in the process you are left to wonder if the victory was worth it. in the end skita merge becoming one person (very fucked)
warning: check tags for both fics, especially the third one (people were talking in the comments about how dark it was but i just got horny 😔)
4. i'll be anything you ask of me by Anonymous. mostly hiita, with some goyuu. short and sweet, Yuuji-centric and encourages him to ask for what he wants, which is something i always approve of. comfort fic for me
5. this side of paradise by omontz. goyuu 236 au, Satoru's death starts a time loop with Yuuji forced to live through each in Satoru's pov. i rarely see time loop fics not from the pov of the person experiencing it and this fic does it perfectly. each loop is perfect and it made me cry, oh poor Yuuji he suffered for so long
6. "But to you it's just words" by WriterOfTheMaximum (@the-hurdy-gurdy-man , hope i didn't mistag lmao), a historical goyuu au where they walk a lot . Gojo characterization is very important to me and he is so perfectly imperfect here, just the way he is in the manga. Yuuji is a precious boy ofc, love this fic very much and i am going to reread it soon
7. Convergence by NoGravity, a canon divergent goyuu au in which Yuuji with the prison realm end up in the past (pre hidden inventory arc). Yuuji tries to unseal Satoru and get back to the future while also getting closer with teen Satoru. teen Satoru's jealousy of his older self was super cute. and while the results of their actions in the past didn't fix their future, it created an alternate universe. in the end both goyuu of the og universe and the alternate one are happy together
8. Lipstick by Lumieerie. one of my fave goyuuge fics, just very lovely and super delicious smut, i read it multiple times
9. Misplaced calls by J_c_nth. a loor at Gojo's time in the prison realm during which he receives calls from Yuuji from a different universe. some just met their Satoru z some haven't, some know him well and some really well. those calls make him confront his own feelings for Yuuji and realise how much he loves him
10. Touch me, touch you by rizna. senpai/kohai au goyuu being stupid and stupidly in love and making other people suffer for it
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hatters-workshop · 1 year
Text
Last night I finally watched the finale of His Dark Materials, and of course it made me cry. I've read the final chapters of the Amber Spyglass so many times, and cried at each one. Was it perfect for me? No. But it never could be, because perfect for each individual reader is impossible, and an unfair thing to hope something would achieve. But it was excellent. And Dafne and Amir acted their hearts out with those lines between Lyra and Will when they're raging against the fate they're faced with, and with their promises to each other, and they broke my little heart with it. And finally hearing the "every atom of you and every atom of me..." speech... ooft that kicked me in the gut in all the right ways.
But this morning I happened to read the poem by Clare Harner that goes
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
And I was hit suddenly by image after image invoked by each line, of each of them, old now and lying in bed (yes I want peace for them in the end. Some would want them to have a victorious or adventurous end but I think they deserve peace.) Pan pressing his face to Lyra's in a final embrace, and Kirjava pressing hers to Will's, and both humans whispering to their daemons that their atoms will find each other, just as they found each other when they were separated before, and Will telling Kirjava to keep Pan's atoms company while Will and Lyra find each other and look for them, and Lyra saying the same to Pan. They tell them that they know where the opening is, if they want to meet them there, but that they would find them either way. And Pan and Kirjava whisper an unneeded reminder to their humans: tell them stories.
And then a wisp of golden fire and Dust curls around a face in each world. Lyra sees her Death again, and they lead her as true as they did the first time. And Will meets his Death, and recognises them though its the first time they've met, but they lead him true, too.
And maybe Will and Lyra find each other in the land of the dead. I'm a romantic, and think even though they are so far apart and couldn't possibly know that the other was dying, they die in the same moment in their own worlds, whatever their lives have gone on to be. Because the universes kept them from being reunited in life, the least they could do is let them see each other again in death, and even with all the changes of their lives and the years they've lived, they know each other instantly. How could they not? And it's a feeling like finding something precious you have looked for every day of your life (because they have) and finally feeling the relief of finding it, and their ghosts are thin and cold and made of almost nothing. They should pass through each other, except they're made of the same kind of nothing. It doesn't feel like it did when they were in their bodies, but it's enough. Soon they'd be closer than they ever could be naturally in life. And they’re the closest they’ve been in so long. So for now, it's enough to hold each other, hand in thin, cold, ghostly hand.
They are at the jetty and the ferry man greets them, and at first he doesn't know them. He hasn't ferried anyone twice before, and he hasn't been hugged and greeted as an old friend, and Lyra wishes she could jokingly scold him for making her leave Pan last time but even now, decades later that wound is too fresh to come out as a joke, and she misses Pan even though she knows she'll be with him again soon, so she let's the chance for the joke go, and they talk to him the whole journey. They don't know if he's alive, or dead, or some other form that is just his, but he looks so genuinely cheery as they speak to him, in a way that his face looks unfamiliar with being, with so many years of his heavy duty weighing on him until now.
They tell him what happened last time they were here, of how they found their daemons like they said they would, and how the opening would let everyone he ferries back out into the world. He looks genuinely shocked at the news.
"Did no one tell you?" They ask.
"Who would tell me?" He replies.
So they tell him, that his job is not to escort people to a prison, but to deliver them back into the world to rejoin every living thing. That the people he ferries need only tell the harpies their stories: and stories, as long as they’re true, of what they saw in life, no matter how small or boring or painful, and to tell them the good news. And the weight lifted from him further, his back straightened and his face brightened, and as they stepped to the shore, he waved to them rather than regretfully returning to his collections as he had every other time, and they heard the echoes of him whispering the phrase they passed down the line last time they'd been there: "Tell them stories."
And no sooner has the sounds of the lap of his boat been eaten by the mist, but they are replaced by flutter of heavy wings.
Of Gracious Wings.
The voice that greeted them was familiar but different: still loud and bold, but it has lost its strained, cracked and painful sound. Her lips were pink instead of the red of caked, vomited blood, and her hair hung soft around her face. A diet of varied stories, even for just the years of Will and Lyra's life, exchanged for millennia of screeching cruelties in the ears of the dead, has clearly suited her, and the smell of putrefaction had faded entirely. She welcomed them, and other harpies gathered themselves around the little ghosts, as they had all been waiting to hear these tales most of all, and they will pass them on to the others, the ones that are away guiding the ghosts to their freedom, so that they can enjoy the tales too.
So Lyra and Will began at the beginning, though they knew that some of it had already been heard by their audience. They added to each other's stories, filling in details and perspectives. It wasn't a short story, and though they were eager to rejoin the world, they enjoyed the reminiscence of the triumphs, and even the pain of the losses and separations could not be skipped over, as they were all a part of their story and to avoid any part of it would be a disrespect to each other.
But then their story as each other know it finishes: their final clumsy kiss before closing the window between their worlds. Every word from then on is new, and they watch each others lips make the shapes of their tales, food for each other as much as for the harpies. The only shared touch point was every year, their shared moment of peace and closeness each Midsummer. They learned of each other's friends and families, loves and losses. Of Will's life with his mother and Mary, and Lyra's learning in St Sophia's and reconnecting with the alethiometer at long last. Of who they were leaving behind in their own worlds, who would mourn them, despite their promises that they were going to go on to be a part of in every world. And as they reached the end of their stories as they could be told; as they reach that very moment, sitting on the floor of the world of the dead, surrounded by harpies and holding each others hands, their words ran out as they just. Look at each other. And smile. Hand held in cold, thin, ghostly hand.
So they rose, and Gracious Wings escorted them personally to the window they had made so long ago now. They waited their turn, though the queue was constantly moving on eager ghostly feet, desperate to return to the world as were, to feel the sun’s rays on their face once more, before they become part of those rays.
They take a moment, hanging back as other ghosts pass through, to look back out across that other world’s horizon. With delight they find it’s changed for the better: the huge seed pod trees seem to be growing stronger and healthier, and though they only had a small view through the window, there are no signs of them dying off like they were before.
They whispered amongst themselves briefly about doing as Will’s father and Lee Scoresby and all those brave people that held their ghosts together to step out into the world to fight in Asriel’s last stand against Metatron. To hold their particles together long enough to return to the mulefa’s world, revisit the trees they knew, see that spot by the river where they held those little red fruits to each other’s lips.
“No,” says Will at length. “We’ve made Kirjava and Pan wait long enough. We’ve waited long enough, too.”
“Plus,” Lyra says, almost giddy, “Soon enough we’ll be part of that river and those berries and everything else too.”
So they step up to the edge of the window, and smell the air and feel the warmth of the sun with the last time on these faces.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry –
I am not there. I did not die.
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imtrashraccoon · 6 months
Text
What's this? A little bit of spice? Oh yeah.
@scrambledmeggys
First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.
Day 7: First Kiss
Today was turning out to be a good day. You were in a good mood, as was Frisk, who was currently set up at the kitchen table with some crayons and a couple pieces of paper. No doubt they were focused on making a masterpiece and who were you to disrupt their creative process?
Right now, you were making one of their favorites - grilled cheese. They'd specifically requested it earlier when you asked if they wanted a snack. It was a simple comfort food but one you enjoyed making every now and then.
You were just finishing cooking the second side of the sandwich when you were startled by Papyrus' arms snaking around your waist from behind. Although, you quickly realized he was giving you a hug and so you relaxed again, only sparing him a small glance over your shoulder.
Then, you felt him nuzzle against the back of your head. You froze up, as what had at first been a sweet gesture, had suddenly become more intimate. You didn't know how you should react to this. Did it mean something else in Monster culture and you were just misinterpreting his actions?
"I Love Coming Into A Room And Seeing You Already There, Precious..." he whispered softly into your hair.
You felt your cheeks grow warm and it was all you could do to keep from covering your face in embarrassment. In any other context, you would've taken it as a genuine compliment but now, you didn't know what to do with yourself. So rather than causing a scene in front of Frisk, you tried to remain calm.
Taking a deep breath, you focused on transferring the grilled cheese from the pan to a plate. After turning off the element, you turned and went to give it to Frisk. Thankfully, Papyrus let go but you could practically feel his smug gaze on your back as you walked away.
You set the plate down next to Frisk and gave them an affectionate pat on the head. They turned and grinned at you before touching their chin with the tips of their fingers, palm in, and bringing it down in a swinging motion.
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome, kiddo." You grinned, feeling slightly relieved that they hadn't seemed to have witnessed what just happened. There was no way you were in the mood to try and attempt to explain romance to them...despite that they apparently knew a little bit already.
You then turned and narrowed your eyes at Papyrus. He grinned and his eyelights seemed to smolder with how pleased he was.
Rolling your eyes, you strode over to him and grabbed his arm, before tugging him to follow you into the living room. Surprisingly, he didn't put up a fight and seemed willing to go along with it.
As soon as you were out of immediate eavesdropping range, you turned on Papyrus and crossed your arms, fixing him with your most stern look. "Why would you act like that when Frisk was right there?" you hissed. "They're still a child and they won't understand what we're doing..."
While you scolded him, Papyrus only watched you silently, a slight grin playing on his skull the whole time. When you trailed off, he placed a hand under your chin and tilted it up slightly to meet his own gaze.
"I Know, Rihanna," he whispered softly. "Did You Not Like It?"
Stunned, you stared up at him before responding in a quiet whisper. "I... I did like it..."
His other arm wrapped around your waist and he gently pulled you closer. Moving closer, he whispered in your ear, "Would You Like To Do It For Real Then?"
"Yes..."
No sooner had you answered, Papyrus closed the distance between you. His sharp teeth lightly pressed against your much softer lips for a brief but magical moment. It was completely different from any kiss you'd experienced, and yet, your heart was thrilled like it hadn't been before.
When you finally separated, you gazed into each other's eyes for a moment longer. You weren't sure what Papyrus was thinking right now, but his scarlet eyelights spoke only of admiration for you. It made you feel warm and so happy at the same time.
"Did You Like That Then, Precious?" he murmured softly.
You nodded, feeling your cheeks grow familiarly warm once again.
Papyrus chuckled, "Maybe Next Time I Will Show You What Else I Can Do..." Before you could ask what he meant by that, his eyelights seemed to burn brighter and his teeth parted slightly to reveil a glowing red tongue.
Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled away. Papyrus only chuckled as you futilely swatted at him, clearly proud of how flustered he'd managed to make you.
That jerk...
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