#holy crap i'm ;;;;;;;; ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[bobatealie-archived]

omg ok i wrote like a whole essay for my friend it's only 12:30 but i think they're sleeping so it's ok

#❝ chattering ! ♡ #holy crap i'm nervous #pressing send rn .

[luveline]

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel can’t control himself when you get hurt in the field —a ficlet featuring an irritated (lovesick) miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested he re, fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. fighting, injury, blood

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel watches the screen in front of him unhappily. 

"Spider-Girl," he says. Two people answer him. He sighs. "Y/N," he amends, "you're being reckless." 

The little droid camera that follows you around circles your head as you swing from one place to another. "I'm being good," you deny. 

Miguel would never tell you this, but he loves how you speak. Sure, almost every word you say annoys him, but the cadence of your voice is melodic and addictive at once. And Miguel knows you're nice to everyone, but it's him alone that has you speaking so softly. 

You do it to torture him, he's sure. 

"You're doing well, but you'd be better if you didn't free fall for so long. Mechanical failure can happen at any minute," Miguel says. 

"Then one of the others will catch me." 

"And if there's no team member close by? I'm supposed to come and scrape you off of the sidewalk?" 

"Miguel," you say gently. He can tell what mood you're in today. "They have people for that." 

"Could you just do as I asked you to?" 

"Ah, but you haven't asked me anything." 

"Please," he says, "focus on the task at hand, and use your webs cautiously." 

You make a chirping sound that feels more laughter than affirmation, but you do as he requests, reducing the length of time between each web shot. You're in New York, Earth-1844, attempting to send home an unhappy Doc Ock variant whose mechanical arms are immensely technologically advanced, even when compared to Nueva York's futurism.

Miguel had sent you along with a rather large team, one. because a big team was necessary for the task, two. because you'd asked and he has trouble saying no to you, and three. because if you'd spent another hour in his office today he actually might have given into temptation, which wouldn't be good for anybody.

Miguel is used to doing what needs to be done rather than what he'd like, these days. So while he wants to indulge you and your fanciful suggestions —I'm not heavy, handsome, please, you won't even notice I'm in your lap, your thighs are so wide— he can't. He has things to do. Things that cannot endure distraction. 

"Woo!" you cheer through laughter, letting your shoes skim the floor in an especially dangerous manoeuvre. The adrenaline turns you giddy. "Holy crap." 

Oh, right, that's why he resists temptation —he hates you. (He doesn't hate you.) He hates you and your disregard for your own safety, he hates your rejection of his authority, and he hates the stupid sweet sound you make when you're excited. 

"Do you listen to me and then forget what I've said, or do you not understand the English language?" he asks. 

You land on a rooftop overlooking the centre of Future Doc Ock's destruction. "Well, I've been learning Spanish. We could always try that," you suggest. 

"Why have you been learning Spanish?" he asks. 

"Coquetear contigo," you say, your pronunciation all over the place. To flirt with you. 

"Qué maravilla," he mutters. 

"I don't know that one, handsome, so I'm going to assume it was a love confession or something similar." You sound so overly fond he has to tense his jaw. "Gwen, where are you?" 

"I'm over here?" 

Gwen is wrapped up tightly in a metal tentacle. It shakes her around fanatically. Miguel swears and zooms in on her location, watching in apprehension as she attempts to free herself while the arm creaks, tightening, tightening. 

"Woah," you say, taking a running jump off of the rooftop. "Can you believe it? I'm not the first one who needs rescuing." 

Hobie Brown reaches Gwen before you can, and he makes an impressive rescue. You divert your path, shooting a web at the glass dome covering Future Doc Ock's head. Miguel crosses his arms across his chest. Wannabe Mysterio loser, he thinks, and then, when you've smashed a hole into the dome with a generously momentous kick, Nice. 

He doesn't suppose Doc Ock was expecting a kick to the jaw today. 

You hiss as you propel yourself away from him, another web shot at a nearby lamppost. It does something funny to his chest when he hears you whine in pain, but he's too distracted to ask what's wrong —he scours your droid's view for an answer, finds it red and saturating the fabric of your suit. 

"Why are you bleeding, Spider-Girl?" he asks, gaze drawn to the main screen where Dock Ock shouts belligerent threats at an approaching Spider-Man. 

"No biggie," you say, hissing again, "I think I cut my leg on the glass. I need a better suit." 

"Can you walk?" 

"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle. From the amount of blood, the cut is deep. "Is it me, or is it dusty in here?" 

It definitely hurts if it's making you cry, though maybe you're unprepared. This was a bad idea, you aren't as seasoned as the others, and he knows you don't know what you're doing yet. You need more time, more practice. You've hurt yourself in the field on your very first mission, and you don't have the pain threshold or the super-healing necessary to cope.

It's his fault for letting you go. 

"Prepare for extraction," he says.

"No! No way, are you kidding? I'm fine, I– I can do this."

"Y/N," he warns. 

You fling yourself from the lamppost with impressive grace considering your injury and join the fight once again. Miguel can't keep an eye on you like he wants to, as the alarm that indicates an anomaly begins to sound. He's forced to rush together a second team while the elite strike force are preoccupied, yanking members of Spider-Society from their goings abouts, Lyla in his ear recommending effective combinations and fighting styles. From that point on, he has to supervise two different missions, his head pounding with effort. 

His hands itch. He should be out there. Miguel is the cream of the crop and he isn't shy to admit that. He's a good fighter, but he can't be everywhere at once, and most of the anomalies they face require multiple sets of hands to fix. So he forces himself to stay put and guide the teams through each fight, sick to his stomach with every bloody footprint you leave behind. 

He's following Hobie Brown and offering rejected instruction when he sees you go down. He toggles your voice channel and catches the end of a high-pitched, "Oof," the air-knocked from your lungs forcibly as you hit the ground. The tentacle that propelled you veers up for a finishing blow, and three different webs catch it and pull it backward. 

It's a blur. One minute Miguel's in the control room at Spider-Society headquarters, the next he's breathing in the smoggy air of New York, Earth-1844, concrete and asphalt torn up under his hands. Lyla speaks in his ear and he's deaf to her, his focus pointed with only one thing in mind. 

The restraint it takes not to wipe Doc Ock from the face of the dimension is incalculable. Miguel can't quite believe his own moderation as he orchestrates the return of the anomaly, your body on the ground in the corner of his eye. 

The second the situation is under control, he runs to you. His gloves hit the ground with a thud by your hip, as do his knees. Spider-Man, a Peter Parker from Earth-751263, has already set nanobots over your prone figure, tiny spider-like creatures that leave webbing bandages in their wake, closing the sluggish wound on your calf. But nanotech won't fix a broken spine, not in the field. Miguel needs a stretcher. He needs to get you home. 

"Miguel," you say, drawing his gaze from your slow-rising chest, "I can't breathe.

He slides his thumb as gently as he can into the seam of your mask and eases it off. "You're winded." 

You cough. The sound is disturbingly wet, but your lips remain unsullied. Miguel can't look at you in this much pain, and he won't: he stands, and he takes control. 

—

You're not in nearly as much pain as you should be, because Doctor Spider-Man gave you the good stuff. "Your healing isn't nearly as expedited as most of us," he'd said. 

"Is this medical discrimination?" you'd asked, faking a serious concern. "Do I need to talk to Spider-Lawyer?" 

You found it funny. He maybe didn't, but he gave you an extra dose and told you to rest up before leaving. Resting at the Society medbay isn't easy because Spider People are constantly filtering in and out of the ward for check-ups, medication, and corrections. 

It's also not easy because most Spider People are incredibly lonely in their home dimensions, and incredibly friendly here. When Miguel finally comes to visit you, you have a Spider-Girl from a few dimensions over who has the same biological mother as you but a different father sitting to your left —she's trippy and adorable, if you do say so yourself— two Peter Parkers to your right, and a melting pot of currency lost in the white linen sheets over your legs.  

They get one good look at Miguel and put down their playing cards. 

The Peter Parkers slink off together promising to come and see you again sometime, and your variant stops just shy of Miguel's position to look him up and down affectionately. 

"Go away," he says. 

She beams at him. "Okay." 

"You can't help it, can you?" he asks after she's gone, picking a rogue playing card up from the end of your bed. He twiddles it between his index and middle finger, the card shushing with each turn.

You sit up in bed and try to straighten out the sheets, hoping to entice him. You don't bother answering his question. It barely sounded like one. 

"I'm hurt, you know?" you ask. 

"I know. I told you to retreat." 

"No, I'm hurt it took you so long to visit me," you say. You're putting on airs. Truthfully, you genuinely are a little hurt, but your voice is soft and dreamy as always. "I thought we were friends." 

"Ah, because you need more of those." 

You sink down into your pillows, your knees hiked. "I really can't help it if people like me. And you'd know." 

Miguel surprises you by sitting down. He faces away from you, his thigh just shy of your feet below the sheets, and it's only then you realise he's tense. He's in civvies for a change, a t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest and regular black sweatpants. He's wearing converse. 

You look at him through a squint. "Did you hit your head, too?" 

"I'm off-duty."

"I just never pictured you in sneakers." 

"How do you picture me?" he asks, neck craned to look at you, his chin touching his shoulder. He has dark circles under his eyes and his brows are ruffled on one side. 

You let your knees fall to one side and pull your legs to your chest, hoping to entice him closer. "You're not sleeping well?" 

Miguel doesn't answer your inquiry. In fact, he falls silent. His eyes are on your hands where they're bunched at your chest, his dark flush of lashes twitching as his gaze tracks along the column of your throat, your jaw, and finally, your face. 

"If you were anyone else," he says eventually, "you'd be benched." 

"I'm not benched?" you ask. 

"You disobeyed a direct order," he says, "and your actions affected the people around you. Someone else could've been hurt protecting you. You have to listen to what I'm telling you to do, or this is never going to work." 

You look at the hospital bed railing rather than face his disappointment. 

"But it's my fault." 

"What?" you ask, startled. 

"It's my fault you got hurt. I knew you couldn't handle it, and I let you go anyway. I'm… I'm weak." 

"What are you talking about?" you ask. "Weak? You're the strongest person here, with or without Rapture." 

He flinches at the drug's name.

You lay there, paralysed by your own mistake, your big mouth ruining everything for the thousandth time. If there's one thing you know about Miguel, it's that you never mention his weaknesses. His drug. His last attempt at a full life. You might be light-hearted, a free spirit, but you're far from stupid usually. Your emotional intelligence must've got lost somewhere on Earth-1844. 

"Sorry," you murmur, looking at him from under your lashes. "I didn't mean…" 

Slowly, so slowly, he puts his hand on your leg. It doesn't hurt, you've been medicated and stitched and his touch is far from cruel, but you're so startled that your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel doesn't touch you unless he's giving you a vague reprimand, moving your hand from a button you shouldn't touch or a door you're not allowed to open. 

"I let you go on that mission, knowing you weren't ready, because you asked me to let you. I put selfish motivations over your safety. It won't happen again." 

You're not as brave as you think you are. You try to hold his hand but it looks so big, and you've never had him this close to you of his own accord. You're a moment away from nervous goosebumps. 

He looks up at your touch, your pinky finger wrapped over his, smaller and shorter but with the same pattern of calluses, skin abraded by tight gloves and rough surfaces. 

"Selfish motivations," you repeat in a murmur. 

"I don't– like saying no. To you." He couldn't sound more unhappy to admit it. 

"You say no to me all the time," you say. You don't mean to, but suddenly you're folding your fingers over his, forcing him to hold your hand. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't let go. "Like, ten times a day." 

"It's difficult." Your complaint is a blessing for him —the atmosphere around you shifts to something less vulnerable, and his permanently chagrined personality rears its head once again. He raises his eyebrows. "You make my life extremely difficult," he says flatly. 

"You make my life difficult, too," you say. 

You can't help but give him your fondest smile, your lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes.  

He visibly softens. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, just once. 

"Fantastic," he says, looking firmly away from you. "Great." 

"Isn't it?" you ask happily. 

He squeezes your fingers gently. It's almost imperceptible. "Yeah, it is," he says. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! also, im sorry if you already speak spanish i realised after that that detail was subjective to the reader, sorry!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #across the spider-verse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara blurb #miguel and spidergirl reader

[genericpuff]

LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 42 - TO THE RESCUE

Previous episode | Next episode

Y'all, this episode. Holy crap. I know it's not a very long one and not much in terms of plot happens compared to previous episodes, but it's one that I've been looking forward to for ages now because it gave me the opportunity to pay tribute to that original sequence in S1, a sequence that captivated so many fans and former fans of the comic such as myself (I had the final panel as my phone background for like 2 years LMAO). Being able to redraw that scene with our own twist on it was such an amazing process, made all the better by @banshriek's amazing contributions in the background art (seriously, the background art is CARRYING this episode, I'm so grateful and proud of their work and how much they've contributed to this little spite project).

What also helped immensely was our recent anon savior who provided us with so many brush names and design notes for how they're used in LO, we had waaay too much fun using these brushes every chance we got LOL and we're gonna continue to use them because goddamn they're beautiful. Buckle up because the new year is gonna be LIT (•̀⌄•́)

In other news, halfway through the production of this episode I finally replaced my PC drawing tablet! I'm still using my Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as a monitor, but in searching for a new screen tablet, I got cold feet and decided to settle for a cheaper desk tablet instead, a Huion Inspiroy Giano. So far it's great, it's a bit on the larger side which I didn't fully realize when I bought it, so it's taken quite a bit of adjusting (plus I haven't used a desk tablet as my main drawing tool in... geez, 8 years??) but it's like riding a bike, you never really forget LOL So yeah, it's gonna make my drawing workflow a lot faster and more efficient now that I don't have to rely purely on my iPad (goodbye touch screen mishaps, hello keyboard shortcuts!) so I'm hoping it'll show in the episodes to come!

Thank you all so much for reading ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

#lore rekindled #lore rekindled comic #lore rekindled update #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #lore olympus redraw #lore olympus rewrite

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @wintaerbaer, and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself

New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler

The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again. 

His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.

Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties. 

You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.

“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”

“Want you…”

“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.

“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.

“I want you.”

Truth.

You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”

If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.

He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.

Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.

“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”

“You were drinking.”

“I’m not drunk. I promise.”

Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.

He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.

You haven’t seen him like this in so long.

Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.

He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.

Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.

Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.

“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time. 

“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.

Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.

His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”

You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”

Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.

He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins. 

“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”

You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come. 

His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily, 

Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.

This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.

No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.

Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.

“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.

He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.

The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.

He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.

Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.

But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.

“Are you clean?” you ask.

It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.

“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”

He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.

“How long has it been?”

Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes. 

“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.

For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.

Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.

He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.

His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit. 

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.

“You can move,” you say after a while.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”

He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.

You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.

No, this is something else entirely.

I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.

“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.

“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”

“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.

You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.

He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.

How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.

“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.

“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.

He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”

Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.

You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”

The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”

“Mean it.”

“I do mean it. I love you.”

Truth.

For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.

Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.

“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.

You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.

But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.

You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.

“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Jungkook groans at your answer. 

He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline. 

He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so. 

Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.

You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all. 

When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.

He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.

The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.

Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.

When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.

It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.

Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.

“Anything.”

You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”

Truth. You know it’s the truth.

Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”

The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.

But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.

He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it. 

He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.

It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.

The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.

You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.

“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.

He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.

Are you gone forever?

Come back quietly.

“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.

The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.

“What?”

“How old are you?” you repeat.

It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”

"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."

His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.

No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.

“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”

Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.

He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time. 

You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.

There’s more to it, and you need to know.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.

You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.

A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.

What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.

Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.

He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.

He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.

Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.

When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.

Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?

Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.

It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.

It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.

She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.

“If you love her, you would let her go.”

Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.

He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.

Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.

The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.

Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.

He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do? 

She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.

That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.

He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.

July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.

You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.

You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.

“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.

Again with the apologies.

Fuck this.

It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.

You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.

He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?

“Y/N, wait-”

“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”

He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”

You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.

“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“What?”

“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”

Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.

It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.

“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.” 

He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.

He might bruise in the morning.

You hope he bruises in the morning.

The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.

You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.

But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.

Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.

This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.

The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.

You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?

“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”

You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.

You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”

It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.

“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can’t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...

In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.

“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”

up next...

our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 30, 2023]

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtanbathhouse #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: our beloved summer #obs spoilers #jungkook

[idkfitememate]

WAIT WAIT ITS NEUVILLETTES BRITHDAYYYYYYY I JUST FOUND OUT TODAY WHAT THE HECK?????? I HAVE A IDEA TO CELEBRET THIS WONDERFULL DAY!!!! WHAT IF WHAT IF OTTER SPEND THEIR WHOLE DAY WITH NEUVILLETTE??? AND THEIR FIRST TIME TASTING WATERS FROM EACH NATIONS!!!!!(since he drinks diffirents waters from each nation right?) The otter be like when tasting the Inozuma water

Otter - sipppssss

Otter - OoO!

Otter - 'holy crap, what is it fizzy???'

sorry sorry I just eaten sugar and I'm on a sugar rush

Otter anon🦦

Yay! Happy birthday to our dear Hydro Dragon Sovereign! I’m a bit tired so I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted!☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა Finals are kicking my ass ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა♡

Neuvillette hadn’t celebrated his birthday in years. He saw no need in it. He had a nation to help run, after all.

After a day of paperwork, a trial that took far to long, and watching Furina, he was more than ready to collapse into his large plush bed and cuddle with his darling Otter.

Though, when he opened the door, he wasn’t expecting to see his dear surrounded by large jugs of water, each labeled with the name of a well known lake and/or sea from every nation.

He simply stared at you as you chittered loudly, almost in a tune (he was entirely sure it was ‘Happy Birthday’), waving your arms about.

He simply gave you a smile as he sat down at the small table surrounded by water jugs. Using your manipulation of water skills, you swiftly poured you both a glass. Picking it up with both paws, you rose it to him, and he did the same with his, clinking the two.

“Thank you my dear.” He mused. You both took a sip.

Then you spit it out in shock.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “Inazumian waters are known to have quite the kick. Or should I say… zap?” His grin widened slightly before a he sighed, picking up a napkin, he dabbed at your face.

Perhaps… Neuvillette should celebrate his birthday more often…

Hehe. He’s just a big ole softy. Our big ole softy ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

#Otter anon <3 #anon <3 #asks <3 #Otter!Creator

[intotheseas]

Hello I just discovered you and I'm in love with your writing!

Since you said that requests are open I thought I might send you my idea :)

So basically I'm all for some angst and comfort, and I'd love if you wrote a fic about GN! or F!MC who gets hurt and goes to the Undercroft to try and tend to their wounds (they're not very good at this) and basically hide the fact that they're hurt (and I mean hurt-hurt, like a giant gush in their side or something) and after dressing the wounds and hoping for the best (cause they're really bad at healing magic) Ominis walks in and meets them there, so they act normal but he still senses that something's wrong so he tries to coax it out of them, but they stick to their "everything's fine" so he gives up and just tells them to sit on the couch with him but when they move they get a sharp pain (from the big gush in their side) and basically fall to the floor with a pained whimper. Ominis quickly springs into action to help them and is all frantic about what happened and asking them but they're too hurt and so he tries to help them but since the damage is mostly on their side they're reluctant about letting him (they're flustered because they have a crush on him and they've never even kissed anyone) but he's so comforting and you know waiting for consent and basically so nice and they eventually let him help.

It can be spicy if you want, but it doesn't have to be!

Also don't feel pressured into writing it, I know that inspiration comes and goes and that you have a life of your own.

Again thank you so much and have an amazing day/night ♡♡♡

PS sorry if I made any grammatical errors, English is not my first language 😅

Hi, hi, hello! :) Your english is excellent, no need to worry! And I am so honoured you like my writing, holy crap. Thank you! Sorry this took a few days, I had do a lot of rewriting, just wasn't super happy with it. I'm still kinda unhappy with it but didn't want to keep you waiting!

You gave me permission to make it spicy and I did lol. I hope you like this. :) As a cis-female I wrote it from a F!MC POV, I'm not sure I could do a GN POV justice. I hope that's okay. I was HEAVILY inspired by the following two songs, so feel free to listen if they're to your taste! Counting, by Heavens, and Blood on the Moon by Raquet Club. Tags: hurt/comfort, blood (not sexually though), graphic depiction of injury, unprotected piv, smut, comfort, first time, first kiss, soft ominis gaunt, protective ominis gaunt, dominis (just a lil bit), biting

Summary: Sage is gathering Horklump juice in the forest when she's injured badly by a poacher. She only has one Wiggenweld on her, just enough to let her stagger back to the Undercroft. She bandages herself up and hopes for the best. When Ominis drops by and notices she's badly hurt, he breaks down her walls and convinces her to allow him to treat her. Once he's fixed her, years of unresolved sexual tension boil over. Characters are 18.

Read here on AO3 or below the break!

Soil, lush grass, damp moss, rotting leaves. Sage’s nose fills with the scents of the forest as she pants, grips her side in agony. Stupid, fucking stupid, she thinks. She doubles over and sinks to the ground, groaning. The dirt scrapes against her cheek as she curls into herself, pain burning through her like fire. Her hands become sticky with her own blood as it seeps through the thin material of her jumper. 

So fucking stupid. She’d come to the forest to search for Horklump juice, needed to replace her low stock of Wiggenweld. Ran into a poacher, cast diffindo without thinking. They’d reflected it at her and disapparated. Her own spell slashed through her, cut her down. Now she lays in the foetal position, her blood mixing with the dirt. Sage pats her pockets, feeling for any stray vials. There's only one. She downs the Wiggenweld in one motion, tosses it aside. It’s enough to allow her to stand, to hobble to the nearest floo point. 

She stumbles out into the castle, gritting her teeth through piercing pain. Her ragged breathing and muffled groans fill the empty corridor, echo off the walls like they're mocking her. Sage staggers to the Undercroft. She needs to be alone, assess the damage. There’s no way she’s going to Nurse Blainey, no way she’ll explain why she was in the Forbidden Forest so late in the evening. Like she needs detention right now.

Stupid.

The iron bars screech as they rise, revealing the musty room that’s been a hideout for almost three years. Lurching, she makes her way to the box she keeps on the table. Fishes out a roll of bandages and lifts her jumper gingerly. It’s already soaked. “Scourgify,” she mutters, removing the worst of it. The iron tang nauseates her, or maybe it’s the blood loss. Sage roots around in the crate for a bottle. Essence of dittany, she knows there’s some in here somewhere. She pulls the bottle out, curses. There’s only two drops left in the dropper, not nearly enough to deal with this gash. Fuck it. She spreads what’s left on the deep cut, hissing as it burns into her flesh like little licks of lightning. 

The wound remains, but the bleeding seems to stop, at least. If she had any talent at healing magic she’d try it, but she knows better. The last attempt resulted in even more injury. She'd ended up in the hospital wing for a week, all over a simple splinch. No, the dittany and bandages will have to do. She glances toward the door and removes her jumper, tossing it over the crate. She wraps the bandages around her middle, snug against the throbbing gash. It’s around an inch deep, she thinks. Not severe enough to hit any major organs or arteries. 

Sage waves her wand, conjures a chair and sinks into it. Mutters “scourgify” again, cleans her jumper and pulls it over her head. The chair cushions her, needed relief as she pants from her exertion and blood loss. She’ll find a Wiggenweld in a bit, she only needs to…rest. Her head lolls over the back of the chair. 

The bars rise again, and Sage snaps to attention. It's Ominis, likely seeking some solitude after classes. His tie is loosened, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Shit. 

“Sage? Thought I'd find you here.” He strolls toward the back of the room and settles into a large, dark sofa. He lounges, stretching his lithe body like a cat. “How long have you been here?” 

Act normal. Sage has never been good at showing her weaknesses, not even to someone she trusts as much as Ominis. “Not long. Maybe half an hour.” Her voice trembles, and of course he notices. 

“Sage? Are you alright?” He moves his head toward her, sniffs the air. “Do I smell blood?” 

Fuck. 

“I’m fine, Omi. Only tired. I went to the forest to gather some potion ingredients. Maybe you’re smelling the dirt.” She’s breathing a little harder now, even speaking is tiring her. 

His eyes narrow. “Right, because dirt smells like blood. Are you quite sure you’re okay?” 

“I am. It's been a long day.” 

She knows he doesn’t believe her, doesn’t know what to do about it. Despite his lack of sight, Ominis is perceptive to almost a fault. It’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t caught on to how she feels. The massive crush she's had on him ever since he confronted her outside the Undercroft.

Something about the way he yelled at her that day marked her, forever changed her taste in men. Kind of fucked up, but she supposes it doesn't matter. Ominis is far kinder than his guarded exterior lets on. After they overcame their initial encounter and worked together to save Sebastian from ruining his life, he's been nothing but kind to her. Devout, even. Like she's something he wants to protect. Is that why her heart is racing? Sage hisses, holding her side. The throbbing is getting worse. 

“Sage? Come here.” It isn’t a request. 

Her legs move against her stubborn will, over to the sofa, sinking into the cushions on his left. He faces her, his brow furrowed. “You’re hurt.” It isn’t a question. 

“I…I got a scratch when I was in the forest,” she says through gritted teeth. Her breathing is heavier now, and she’s feeling woozy. She tries to shift and cries out, the pain sharp again. Sage doubles over, groaning. 

“Liar,” he says. He pulls out his wand, passes it over her. “Sage, don’t be an idiot. Let me help you, for Merlin’s sake. You know I’m good with healing magic. Why are you being so stubborn?” 

She pulls back. “It’s in an intimate spot, Omi.” 

“And? You’re hurt. What does it matter?” 

Sage pants. The room's spinning around her, vertigo slams over her like a wave. She collapses sideways, her head lands on Ominis’ lap. “Okay,” she groans. “I’m hurt.” 

He stiffens. He’s not sure where to put his hands, settles on her back. “Sage, if you don’t let me help you, we’ll need to go to Nurse Blainey. I assume you’re avoiding her for a reason. Please, can I tend to your wound? I can smell the blood from here.” His voice is urgent, bordering on begging. 

Her breaths are shallow, fast. She can’t tell if it’s from their proximity or from her injury. “It’s on my side. Here.” She guides his hand, rests it over her injury. “I wrapped it, applied a couple drops of dittany. That’s all I had other than an old Wiggenweld.” 

Ominis pauses. “Sage, I need to lift your jumper. Is that okay with you?” 

She nods, whimpers her affirmation. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

He raises her jumper up with one hand, holding his wand over her with his other. He takes great care to lift it to just below her bra, preserve her modesty. Ominis’ hands are gentle as they unwrap the bandage. He passes his wand over the gash, concern etched in his face. “Worse than I feared,” he murmurs, “but I can fix this.” Grabbing his bag, he fishes out a couple vials. “Sage, these are green, right? Wiggenweld?” 

She lifts her head, peers at them. “Yes.” 

“Drink them. Now.” Again, not a request.

She tilts the vials into her mouth, gulping down the potion. Sage hisses, feeling the dizziness evaporate. She breathes more evenly, her heart slows to a steady pace. 

Ominis runs his fingers through her hair. “Well done,” he murmurs, his voice kind. “I still need to close the cut. You’re lucky I know this spell.” His wand moves above her in a curious twirling motion, and thrice he says, “Vulnera Sanentur.”

A small gasp escapes Sage’s lips. Her skin knits together, and within seconds there’s nothing left of her stupidity except the faintest of scars. She sags, the absence of pain finally allowing her to relax.

Ominis traces his hands over her side, checking for any leftover blood or open wounds. Nothing. He breathes a sigh of relief, doesn’t remove his hands. “I don’t know how many times I’ve begged you to be more careful, Sage.” His voice trembles. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come to the Undercroft?” 

She shrugs. “I don’t know.” Her head’s still resting in his lap, and she really doesn’t want to move. His fingers are still brushing against the bare skin of her side. Slow, soothing strokes. “Thank you,” she whispers.

He pauses for a moment, then continues his light movements. “What else could I have done? Sage, I…I wish you’d remember that there are people who care a lot for you. I wish you wouldn’t be so reckless. What would I do if I lost you?” 

Her breathing is shallow again, for a different reason. I’m afraid he doesn’t care for me in the way I want him to, she thinks. She’s overcome with an urge to tell him how she feels, but how can she? They’ve danced around each other for nearly three years now, neither daring to show their full hand, their honest feelings. 

His fingers drift down the curve of her waist and she shivers against him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice is low, trembles a little. Something in the air around them is shifting, becoming electric. Like every touch he leaves on her skin sends shivers racing over her skin.

Sage’s breath hitches in her throat. “No,” she whispers. 

His hand trails up her waist, over her ribs, ghosting beneath her jumper, against the bottom of her bra. “Is this too much?” 

Her breathing is shaky. “No. I…like it. You can go further, if you’d like.” She doesn’t know what’s happening, only knows she doesn’t want it to stop. The Undercroft is a different room than it was five minutes ago. The atmosphere shimmers with something unknown and dangerous, something intoxicating. 

“Sage…you shouldn't say things so casually. Don't give me the wrong idea.” He stutters out the last few words. 

A flash of bravery edges her forward. Fucking encourage him, you coward.“Maybe it isn’t the wrong idea,” she breathes. She sits up, leans toward him, rests a hand on his chest. “Maybe it hasn’t been for a long time.” 

Ominis’ breath stutters. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His hand reaches out, finds her cheek. He strokes his thumb over her lips, already parted. 

Sage leans forward, crawls toward him and presses her forehead to his. "Am I, Ominis?"

His lips sear against hers, an inferno. Her first kiss, the only one she's ever wanted. She desperately wants it to devour them both, wants to lose herself in him. She shifts over, straddles his lap. Grinds down, makes her intentions clear. "Did you know," she breathes, "that I've wanted you since you yelled at me outside of the Undercroft?"

He gasps against her lips. "Would you believe me if I said I wanted you not long after?" His hands move down over her waist, cup against her bottom.

That surprises her, but she's not about to break their kiss. "No," she says as they catch their breath. "I wouldn't. I thought you hated me at first." She whines as she feels the length of him harden below her.

"Never," he says. "I just d-didn't," he stutters as she grinds against his clothed cock, "didn't know how to handle the situation. But your voice reached straight into my heart. Then y-you never stepped from my side when Sebastian slid down the wrong path, and s-somewhere," he pants, "I fell in love with you." He grabs her arse and bucks up against her.

Her moans are soft, pleading. Need more friction. Need less clothes. She lifts her jumper over her head, tosses it aside. Rips her bra off, flings it at the wall. Ominis gasps as she raises to her knees and presses her chest against his face, hikes her skirt up and her underwear down.

"Do you want this, Ominis?"

He unzips his trousers in reply. Pulls them down along with his underclothes. "Yes," he sighs. "More than you know."

She sinks down, resumes grinding. Her slick pussy coats him in only a few strokes. For a few minutes they grind together leisurely, murmuring sweet nothings into each other's ears. "Tell me more about when you started to want me," he asks.

She laughs, dragging her lips along his neck. "Something about your passion. It was attractive, even if I was the object of your ire at the time." Sage grinds a little faster, caught in the moment. "And then it was your k-kindness, under that guarded exterior. And then it was just you."

He reaches down and teases her opening with the tip of his cock. They both whine, nearly dizzy with anticipation.

Sage bites his neck, hard. "And for years I touched myself thinking of you. Thinking of something like this happening."

A low growl rumbles in his chest. He lifts her, his hands secure under her arse, gripping it almost painfully. "Put it in." Once again, not a request. Not that she minds. She lines up the tip of his cock with her entrance and sinks down onto him.

They cry out together, and Ominis wastes no time. He holds her bottom elevated in his hands, thrusts up into her without relent. Sage gasps against his lips with every movement, feels like she might burst from the sensation. He's fucking her like every dirty thought, every metaphorical step they've ever danced around each other pours into this very moment. It's a culmination of three years of pent up desire, unsaid words.

He stops and she cries out.

"Move," he says. He spreads her onto her back, grabs her hips and bends over her. His fingers dig into the soft flesh as he thrusts into her. She throws her head back, garbling incoherencies as he angles himself above her, hits deeper than she thought possible. He nips at her neck between the sweet words that flow from his filthy mouth.

It’s too overwhelming, in the best way. And when he reaches down, fumbles around her clit and rubs his thumb in firm circles, she comes undone. Sage spills all her long-held secrets. Her breath is urgent against his ears, makes his cock even harder. “I love you, I have for a long time, I’ve wanted this for so long, you’re so fucking perfect, Omi. I love you.” 

He groans against her neck. "Sage, if you keep speaking so sweetly, I'm going to combust."

She grins, still panting. "So combust. I love you, Ominis."

With a final stuttering thrust he buries his cock deep within her, emptying not only himself but years of pent up want and need. Everything for her. "I love you too," he breathes. "I love you too."

#ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy smut

[thebestofoneshots]

My favourite teacher announced he was leaving today and I went “roight” (I’m British btw) “time to read that new fanfic I’ve been recommended.

And I cannot say I’m disappointed because holy crap GC is amazing

Oh god, British people are reading GC?!?!? I've been trying to capture your culture and now you guys will be able to see my attempts at keeping it British, I sure hope all the Merlin, Doctor Who and Young Dracula I've watched prepared me for this moment ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

AND PEOPLE ARE RECOMMENDING GC AS WELL?!?

I'm feeling all giddy on the inside, you guys are amazing, I've worked so hard on writing this series and the fact that you guys are not only reading, liking, commenting and reblogging but also recommending to other real-world people you know is absolutely mind-blowing!

You guys are all incredible, thank you so much for being a part of this ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Also, you might have heard my loud af relieved sigh on the other side of the world when I read: "I cannot say I’m disappointed because holy crap GC is amazing" because GUYS!

Gilded Constellations is BRITISH APPROVED! I repeat we are now, officially, BRITISH APPROVED ໒꒰ྀིᵔ o ᵔ ꒱ྀི১尸

Read Gilded Constellations

UPDATE: WE ARE ALSO FRENCH APPROVED LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! The French have spoken ଘ꒰⑅ ´ ˘ ` ⑅ ꒱♡

#lilly talks #ask lilly #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #moony #padfoot #prongs #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius x you #sirius x y/n #remus x y/n #remus x you #remus x reader #remus one shot #sirius black one shot #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x y/n #wolfstar x you #sirius black x fem!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #moony x reader #moony x padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #moony x you

[the19thduckpotato]

MHA 398 frantic word smashing under the cut

I dont even know where to begin but WOW. wowowowoWOW

NANA FLASHBACKS , a mild repeat of Toshinori n Izuku's first meet (he even lands beside the rooftop where his secret first slipped out to Izuku), and finally one of my personal headcanons confirmed. Also does this mean Nana met Toshi after giving away Kotaru?

Also the whole "I'm quirkless, a nobody without a purpose. Please let me have a reason to exist" [paraphrasing] just parallels so hard. He was here before and rose, now he remembers where he came from and that he can rise up again.

This time with the support he's finally accepted from others that he cares about. This is why he's going to live.

All Might has had his time. Now Toshinori deserves the chance to live.

AND HE KNOWS IT.

this isn't artistic symbolism. His eyes are changing. The irises are rounded instead of tall ovals.. There's light again, there's hope again. there's eyebrows again holy crap were they always there lul His eyes darkened after That Fateful Fight and Nighteye's prediction. And now? They're no longer cast in shadow (even the one behind the helmet is lightening) because he's looking up and to the future, the fate he and his kid twisted together.

he's pushing himself pretty dangerously hard here, AfO levels even--but he's not sesnselessly throwing himself away. he (mostly) knows what he's doing and he WILL survive (whether he survives intact is another story eheheheh...)

Team Toshi Lives, y'all ♡

#spoilers #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #boku no hero academia spoilers #my hero academia spoilers #manga spoilers #ch 398

[dailycephalopods]

Holy crap I want to kiss this blog

Thank you!!!

I'm glad you're enjoying it ! ₊˚⊹♡mwah Ｃ:。ミ

#squid mail くコ:彡 #octopus

[merakiui]

Hooooooooly crap your latest Azul fic is probably the most intense, jaw-dropping roller coaster ride I've ever been on. Like oh my gosh, starting it off with such a suspenseful scene was such a good way of getting the reader's attention- not to mention the spiral as to how it even gets to that point. The in-betweens were so fucking good!

Absolutely obsessed with the way you describe the scenery and the inner turmoil, like it's so poetic and just creates such a delicious imagery!! The fluffiness in the first vow was soooo tooth rottingly sweet- Like holy crap got me giggling and kicking my feet over here. I absolutely adore the way you wrote the mc, especially with how well she was at handling Azul's negativity and self-deprecation at the start. Just the way you're able to make the reader's feel the same way as the mc- I was SEETHING. The amount of times I got so frustrated with Azul- Especially with how he tried to get her to stop working, like dawg, she's doin' it cause she likes it, JUST LET HER HAVE THIS ONE THING

I was so glad when mc called it off when she did, cause ain't no way Azul was talking about some "You don't care for me as much if I'm healthy" LIKE WTF ARE YOU SAYING?? LITERALLY RIPPING MY PILLOW TO SHREDS RN

Aaaaaaa and oh my gosh the way mc just snaps- just says 'fuck it' and just lets everything out was so satisfying yet also so scary cause like- bro's definitely not gonna just accept that. Holy crap the bits of dialogue as he realizes mc was leaving- I can't. I'm not okay. Like the build up?? Like we know what's about to happen, but the way we see his perspective as it's about it happen- My mouth is agape. Eyes bulging out of skull- THAT WAS SUCH A GOOD SCENE!! Actual chills

Ending it on the hospital scene as his mentality just reverts back to how things were before her- Ugh... I can't- I can't function anymore. I have never been gagged so much by fanfic- like the life has been sucked out of me in the best way possible

Definitely will be re-reading, there's no way I could be fine with reading it only once

Such a satisfying conclusion too- like oh my gosh <3

OMG OMG THANK YOU!!!!! THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAA (≧◡≦) ♡

I wanted it to feel like a fic that suffocates you with sadness and emptiness while you're reading it, so opening with the aftermath of the murder felt appropriate! It sets such a haunting mood because you don't quite know why Azul did this or what happened for things to turn out this way (until you read the end of the fic), which only makes it more unsettling the further you read.

:D I'm so happy you enjoyed many aspects of the fic, especially the short-lived fluff in the beginning! I think that was my favorite part to write out of everything (although the hospital scene is a close second). Azul and Reader were so genuinely cute together in that scene. T_T if only it could be like that always...

And I'm especially happy you liked the way I wrote the reader's character here!!!! I wanted her to be more in tune with emotions than Azul is because it felt like a nice contrast to the very out-of-control, emotional Azul. She's honestly such a sweetheart who is just trying her best to be genuinely kind and loving despite the situation. Azul is so frustrating here, so the fact that Reader could remain patient and gentle throughout six entire years of their marriage... It felt satisfying to write her finally snapping at him, so I'm glad that was a scene you could enjoy! I liked switching perspectives partway through as the focus strays from the subject of Reader and her bringing up the divorce to Azul's disturbing behaviors as he begins to lose himself to his fears and insecurities. And then he just shuts off and tragedy ensues. >_< it's heartbreaking and scary and so many other unfortunate things!!!

And the hospital scene oooooo yes yes!!!!! Azul's psychology in this fic is so fascinating to me. He really did mean it when he said the reader was his world, so with her no longer in it his entire existence undergoes this drastic shift and suddenly he's not whole. He's lost a vital part of himself, the part that felt loved and appreciated, and so now he's back to floating through life with this lonesome emptiness and self-hatred. Now the world is small and devoid of color. Now it's just monochrome and cold.

Aaaaaaaa I loved writing him in this state of slow, uncertain delirium and the way he panics when the nurses won't answer his questions. I also greatly enjoyed writing him using the phrase "my wife" over and over because Reader is no longer just her own person to him. She's Azul's. His wife. And then there's also the symbolism in Azul killing Reader and knowing that no one else will have her ever again and that, because he got to take her life for himself, it will be no one else's. It's not even Reader's anymore.

Forgive my ramblings!!! I'm just very happy to know you liked the fic and that you will be reading it again!!!!! Thank you so much!!!!!! 💖

#sweet messages #shmoopyldoopy

[crabonfire]

hi . twirls hair nervously . idk if you're still taking requests but it would be so Awesome to see how the mercs would react to their s/o being an artist, like they see em painting or smth . preferably amab if That's ok .. (ngl im mainly doing this for more scout stuff .) + I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM makes me kick my feet with joy

heyyyyy!! giggles like a schoolgirl

TOTALLY! I'm always down for requests, just as long as they aren't too specific / out of my comfort zone :)

also I'm so glad you like my stuff!!!! it makes me very happy that you do heheheheh :) I'm also an artist so I'd love to write this!

ps I love scout so I understand we need more scout stuff tbh!!!

Mercs reacting to an artistic S/O!

warnings: none!

characters: all mercs

note: reader is amab in this one, gender isn't specified much but just wanted to let u know :)

oke so the situaaation ‼️‼️

Merc had noticed that for some reason you would be in your room all day, before and after matches. He didn't really ask about it, because you still spoke to him a ton. One day though, he walks in on you...doing art??!?!?!?! Wow!!!!

♡Scout♡

• holy crap...are you PAINTING??? WITH BRUSH??? WUTH??? BRUSHHSHSH??? STROKE?? WHAT AM I SAYINF

• omg!

• without saying anything, he comes closer to see what your painting. he admires it for a moment, it's so...wow

"Woah, this is amazin'...you neva told me you could paint!"

"Well...yeah! I do paint. It's just a hobby to release some stress, you know?"

"A hobby??? I thought Picasso made this or somethin...this is so good!"

• Hes also pretty artistic himself! He draws a ton, so he's very excited to find out that your just like him fr!

• He will be so enamoured by your art, asking if he could see more and even ask if you could teach him. The way you so delicately work on the canvas with that glimmer of creativity in your eyes, he can't help but be head over heels by it.

"That painting is so cool babe, just like you."

"Man, what's up with you today? Your so corny."

He pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around your waist making your hands rest against his chest.

"Yer so handsome too, you know? Even more than the painting."

"You dork. Your just egging me on."

"Nah, I really mean it. Your the real masterpiece here."

He peppers you with kisses making you giggle at the sensation. What a guy.

♡Soldier♡

• when he enters your room to find you sitting at your desk, he thinks your working at first.

• but when he steps closer to see your drawing, oh my lordie lord

"WOW! WHAT IS THIS CADET?"

"OHFUCK-solly you scared the living shit outta me- I'm uhh...drawing."

• he takes the paper and inspects it carefully, a grin on his face. wow! this is so cool S/O :)

"It's just a sketch, but I've been meaning to practice more on my anatomy."

"THIS IS AMAZING! YOU MUST SHOW IT TO EVERYONE."

"Ah, thanks but nah. I'm not finished with it...plus I think my art kinda sucks."

"WHAT? NO. THIS IS VERY GOOD! I LIKE HOW YOU DREW THE FACE, IT IS FULL OF EMOTION!"

"Huh...thank you Jane. I appreciate it."

• he watches you draw a lot, and gets so happy when he finds out you draw him. if you give him any of your art, he will frame it in his room and show it off like a trophy. he finds it so cool you draw, wow.

♡Pyro♡

•WOWOWOWOWOOWOWWAAAAWWWWWWOAOOAOAOAOAOOAW?!?!?!?!? WWOOWOWOWOWOWOWOOWOW SO COOOLLLL!?!??!?!!

• oh m gosh...u draw...like...like he does..??? OH MH GOOOOODSSSHHHHHHHSH

"mmmfhh mffhh mmhfhh mmmfhhd!!" (This is so cool!!"

"Oh thanks man! I appreciate it."

"Mmmh mmh mmhhhf mmhd mmh? mmhfh??" (Can I draw with you? Please??)

"Yeah! That'd be nice. I've always wanted to draw with someone."

" the happiest squeal that has ever come out of any man "

• you two draw together all the time, heck youll even collaborate on the same drawing and it always makes him so happy when you do. if you ever draw you two together, he will cherish it forever and just like soldier, frame it. Though he wouldn't show it off, he would wanna keep it to himself :)

♡Demo♡

• hold up wait a minute

• you paint? oh my god you paint?? you...you paint???!?!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!?!!??!

• he's very surprised and very proud, he's like "HELL YEAH MY BOYFRIEND PAINTS LETS GOOOOOO!!"

• "Lad, you did this?"

"Oh-pff yeah. I don't paint as much as I used to but it's fun to do."

"This is amazing. Your so amazing, why haven't ye told me ye painted?"

"I didn't really think it was a big deal, nobody really knows."

"Big deal? This is gorgeous. You should show off some more."

"Hahdhfh thank you."

• talks about it a lot, practically shows you off like a medal when the topic is even related to it. He loves watching you paint and will even ask if you can paint him so that he can keep it and show it to his mother. He's so supportive of it and buys you the best art supplies, encouraging you to paint more. he's so proud of u omg.

♡Heavy♡

• when he finds you drawing he's very interested! he doesn't ask much about it, but watches you sketch. how you lightly press onto the paper when you want a soft feel to it, and when you press rougher for a thicker line, it fascinates him how you can be so talented.

When your done, he'll ask about it.

"May I see?"

"Oh, of course!"

He inspects the drawing, admiring how well you cleaned the linear and how well the shading blends in. He smiles softly

"This is beautiful. You are very talented."

"Aw-thats sweet, thanks babe."

"Da. Do you have any other drawings?"

"Oh totally! Wait lemme get my sketchbook."

• he let's you ramble on each piece, listening intently as he carefully flips the pages over. he's so amazed by it all, even asking if he can keep some of them.

• if he ever finds out you drew him, he will be so so soooo happy! he will have a very big smile and give you a big big hug. he will keep it secure, and tell his family about it. even giving some pictures of your art to show them in letters. he's very into your art, please draw for him more.

♡Engie♡

• woah, you draw? that's so cool.

• he's very happy, he draws himself but it's mostly blue prints for his machines. your art is so sick! my guy this is like...the shit that belongs in like...a fuckin museum. so...so cool

"Darlin'...this is amazing! Did you draw this?"

"Oh yeah, I draw when I got the time to."

"I had no idea, this is wonderful. Whyd ya never tell me?"

"Oh, I thought it wouldn't be interesting."

"Sweetheart this is too good to not be talked about, its an amazing talent and I guarentee I'd love to hear about it."

"Aww, Dell..."

• show him your art please. he loves to just admire your stuff, inspecting every single like and so appreciative of how much time you put into each drawing. even if it's a small doodle or an unfinished piece, he will cherish it and motivate you to do more.

• draw for him? actually freaks out. Will keep a special folders full of all the drawings you give him, keep it in the special safe he made just for stuff you give him. draw any of his machines? bro will actually smooch you so hard man...pucker up LMAOOOO

♡Medic♡

• fascinating!

• he watches your painting, your quite focused on the strokes and he finds it very cool. he doesn't say anything, just watches you. it feels a bit awkward but he's honestly just really into it.

"Zhis is wonderful! Jou should sell zhem. I bet zhey would be bought by anyone who saw zhem."

"That's sweet Medic, but I don't think I'm that good."

"NONSENSE! Jou are an excellent painter, I am delighted to know jou have talent in such fine arts. Zhis is not a small thing, mein liebe."

"Haha, thank you Ludwig."

• he will ask if you can paint for him, not forcing or anything but he is obsessed with your style. if you ever paint him something, anything at all, it will be in somewhere safe, probably his room. By his desk, so he can look at it while he works.

he thinks it's awesome you can paint, will ramble to heavy about it.

♡Sniper♡

• WOAHHHHH BUDDY YOU DRAW???@??!?!?@?@!?!?!?!?!?!? that's so fucking cool!!! Holy smokes

• he will be amazed, how did he end up with someone as hot and talented as you? My GUYYYYYYY he's even more in love with you than before which he thought wasn't possible.

"Roo...this is...amazing. I didn't know you could draw."

"Well-yeah! I just do it in my spare time."

He sits by you and continues to watch you draw, he likes the expressions you mimic when your drawing it on the paper. he thinks it's adorable.

if you ever draw him or for him, he will be a bit flustered.

"For...for me?"

"Yeah! I know it's sorta random but I really wanted to draw you something. Sorry if this is uh...weird and stuff."

"NO! no no, it's...its amazing. Thank you love."

He will be so red and so honored, he will have a bunch of your drawings lying around in the camper, one pinned to the wall of the van for him to look at. He keeps a doodle you made of the both of you in his pocket and looks at it whenever he misses you. He loves you soo much ughhhshhdfhfhf SNIPER MY BELOVEDDDD

♡Spy♡

• mf

• just when he thought he couldn't adore you even more than he already has, and you decide to be incredibly cool and awesome by your art

• you fucking DRAWWWW???? OH MH GODDD

He sneaked into your room to surprise you but he's the one surprised to find you drawing him. He stands by you as you smile at the finished product. Dammit you fucking KILLED HIM

the smile you have on your face at the drawing you made of him is actually fucking murderous it's so fucking cute he's going into cardiac arrest

he reveals himself, leaning into the table and taking a look at your drawing.

"HOLYSHIT- SPY WHAT THE HELL."

"Ma cher, this is wonderful. I never knew you had such a talent."

"OH-uh yeah! I draw...but also my fucking god dude your gonna kill me one day."

"I apologise, I merely wanted to surprise you. But it seems you have surprised me with your artwork. Do you draw me often?"

"I...uh...well-i mean-"

He finds it sweet you drew him, watching you get nervous and tounge tied. He will stop the teasing though, to admire your artwork. he's so...ighdhdhfhf why do you do this to him he's literally freaking out internally rn

like bro might be all cheeky and sly abt it but he's so...he's so jsjjf..HEHSHSHDHD... the urge to kiss you is strong

• he will buy you the best art supplies. after all, you deserve only as such. he will actually frame every single drawing you give him. I'm serious like they're gold plated, some are in his smoking room for him to admire and some are in his room to wake up to. bro is so INTO YOUUUU UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH stop it!! stop being so fucking cool!

I hope u enjoyed this! Sorry if its shorter than my usual ones, but yea!!!!!

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demo #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 x reader #i love men #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy x reader

[kittygamer2888]

Hello, I’m one of the contestants of the AU Sonic Smackdown, @delightrolls, the creator of the Sonic Thunderstorm AU. I was trying to decide who to vote for between you and @chopp-6467, but the decision is proving to be difficult. Would you kindly tell me more about your Evil Sonic AU? Anything and everything you feel comfortable sharing about your phenomenal story! And if you want some more specific questions I would like to ask:

Is there anything that could convince Sonic that what he is doing is wrong or change his worldview?

Is there anyone on Sonic’s side after Tails leaves him?

Does Sonic ever manage to lure anyone else over to his side like Shadow?

What does Sonic intend to do to change the world? Assert a Totalitarianistic government? Kill anyone they deem as rotten? Something else entirely?

How did the Master Emerald go missing? Are the Chaos Emeralds also missing?

Why did Sonic’s “friends” betray him? Was it for him now being blue? For his Superspeed? For something else completely?

Do Sonic and Tails’ robots look like Badniks or like something else?

Thank you for your time and regardless of whether you win or lose I think your story is phenomenal :)

Holy crap, I am SO sorry for the late answer, i had school n' other stuff, fu--

Anyways, yea, for the questions- I don't think Sonic will be changing his view on the world any time soon, but if there was anyone to try and attempt to convince him once more, it would either be Amy or Robotnik, but other than that, he just doesn't want to listen to anyone since he's too far gone at that point when Tails isn't there anymore.

-question 2: Yea, no, there's no one there for him when Tails leaves, but he eventually makes a Metal Tails, maybe even make some Metal versions of the rest if he ever felt like it.

-question 3: When he means by taking over the world and 'changing it into a better place' that is straight up Eggman behavior, lmfao. If anything, he mostly wants **revenge (sorry) against the world and make it his own so that there would be no one there to stop him if that time was ever to come, and because of his bias towards the world, he wouldn't hesitate to attack innocents by then.

-question 4: The Master Emerald didn't exactly go missing, more like.. it's there, it's just that Sonic will do anything to get it, and once he gets the power from the Master Emerald, he wouldn't hesitate to take it out of Angel Island with the power of his machines if he succeeded. But, as for the Chaos Emeralds, they are in this universe, they're just currently scattered, but Sonic could care less about the Chaos Emeralds since he only wants the Master Emerald, It contains the ultimate power, so of course he would go for the big and shiny and more powerful Emerald. This right here, will eventually become a huge problem for Sonic later on! :P

-question 5: Sonic's friends were fake friends from the start, so eventually, they were going to leave him behind at some point when he was still a normal hedgehog with super speed, because they saw him as a really annoying and hyperactive hedgehog to them. But once he broke the sound barrier, you could say that they were secretly jealous in a way and picked on him, and soon, left him behind. Sorry if i wasn't too specific with this part ^^'

-question 6: As for the badniks, it's pretty much just your regular badniks like the ones you see in the og Sonic games (For example: Buzzbombers, Motobugs, crabmeats, etc), but I have been thinking about maybe making some custom ones just for this AU, so far I can only come up with 1 which I forgot the name of, but i think i have it saved somewhere in my gallery, idk though.

Aaand, ye, that's all.

Again, i am so sorry to answer this late, I'm currently in school answering this ;-;" but thank you so much qwq♡

I'm glad you and some others like the story so far, it's currently a work in progress, but I've tried to come up with some stuff here and there during these questions, so.. yea👍

Tbh, i thought the story i did for this AU would be silly, i didn't think people would actually like it, so weh.. thanks for that, too 🥲❤️

Also also, I've seen how this can somewhat count as propaganda, so.. hope you don't mind if i tag the @au-sonic-smackdown account

#asks #ask blog #delightrolls #propaganda maybe? #Evil Sonic AU

[hyunsvngs]

THE FEM SKZ SEX TOYS YOU POSTED I'M SO OBSESSED these fit them so so well?????? Holy crap fem bin WITH THE HITACHI WAND???? And with both of us using it????? And seungmin anal holy shihrdjbdfjfhfbfhfbej I'm making ungodly noises I adore this concept so so much I need to suck on their tiddies while they ruin me 💦💦💦

OH HELLL YEAHHHHH IM GLAD U SO AGREE. I WAS DYING WRITING IT NGL IT WAS SOOOOO SECKSY

♡ juno

#juno’s asks ♡ #sweet baby anon #fem!skz

[fic-pickyourpoison]

hi i just finished reading your fic, and lemme just say I AM OBSESSED i LOOOOOOOOVE the vibe youve done with it its sooooo cool holy crap lami is sooooooo. shes so fucked up badass. shes has such horror movie protagonist vibe she must be one hell of an uncanny valley photo model

Askdjfkdfj--thank you so much!!! I'm so happy to hear that you've liked it so far! ♡♡♡ I'm also glad that you are feeling the horror movie vibes because that is certainly what I am going for ^^ I love doomed by the narrative plots and it pairs so well with an overall tone of unease and creeping discomfort....

A "fucked up badass" is exactly what I want for Lami, haha! :^) She's a bit more fucked up than badass at this point, though. Slowly crawling her way to badass territory!

If Lami were to be a horror movie protagonist then she is crossing her fingers that she makes it to the end. Or, alternatively, that she is the big bad--either option works for her! Let her slash her way to survival, pls.

#ask #rambles