#i had love like ghost on repeat while drawing this so u should give it a listen for the full experience

[cringefail-clown]

thinking about them again (turnabout au post-scratch jakehal)

#homestuck #homestuck au #jake english #hal strider #grandpa harley #sort of #jakehal #haljake #turnabout au #homestuck turnabout #ive been listening to lord huron as of late and the feelz got me #i had love like ghost on repeat while drawing this so u should give it a listen for the full experience #their doomed romance just hits right #knowing that falling in love with this person will end in tragedy and heartbreak and loss and doing so anyway #because the few happy moments you get to share with them outweight the decades of soul-crushing grief youll have to endure

[apartments4rent]

Apartments For Rent: TEN-YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

Ooooohhhh man, this… This is fucking me way up, big time… I don’t even know where to begin with this… I should definitely be using this free time I have today doing my homework, you know, the thing with a hard deadline? That was technically due yesterday?? Well, how about instead of that, I take a walk down memory lane…

Do you remember the 21st night of September? 

Picture this: It’s 2013. It is your sophomore year of high school. You have more friends than you ever have in your life and they are all so wonderful to you (this wouldn’t always be the case and they all wouldn’t stick around but you didn't know that yet). One of you proposes the question: If you were a monster, what would you be? A witch. A vampire. A werewolf. A mermaid. A ghost. A selkie. A dullahan. (You had to look those last two up.) You are so inspired by this that you want to make a story for these ideas to live in. You create a fantasy. Where all your best friends get to live together under one roof. A slice of a life you know you’ll never have. It’s actually the 20th night of September that you created the tumblr blog where most of what comes out of this will live (your first post says “why do i do this to myself”) but it is the 21st night that your creations get their names. Their genders don’t all stay the same but their cores haven’t really changed. “a very dramatic/theatrical witch who loves animals and sass master. a bubbly and happy mermaid who gets really scary when u cross her. a passive, nerdy vampire who isnt so out spoken. a moody selkie who loves to learn and lost her seal skin. a strong beautiful fairy girl who doesnt take shit from no one but is v nice to her friends. a strong beautiful fairy girl who doesnt take shit from no one but is v nice to her friends. a ghost girl from the 1920s who is forgetful and not really confident but really likes her new friends.” You put a disclaimer at the bottom of the post, clarifying that these descriptions shouldn’t be taken as a description of your friends but separate characters entirely. This is also the birth of Marvin, the human man created to navigate this world of chaos, not based on anyone you know in real life. The straight man in this goofball circus. Your Original Character. (Who, you now realize, was designed as the boring main male character in the harem anime.) This was the genesis. And you would never know peace in your life ever since. 

And then what happened?

Bro, so much. A lot can happen in 10 years. You develop the characters further. You make a small town for them to live in (even though you’ve never even been to a small town in your life). You make (bad) art. You make sims because you hate the way you draw but you need a physical version of them to exist outside your head, as you see them. You apparently make a rule where no one outside of your little group is supposed to know about these characters (because you “had an experience” and “don’t wanna repeat it”). You make Alternate Universes for these Alternate Universe selves to populate, again and again. (As of right now, your “AU of an AU” list stands at 26 but there are probably more dumb ones not yet counted on the doc you made.) You try to make a one-shot comic collaboration with all your friends but no one seems to agree on how it should go so nothing but a script and panel formatting ends up getting made. (You know that your script was worse with many unnecessary details but you were bad at killing your darlings and stubborn about your ideas being the best. You’ll learn eventually.) You love and appreciate all the things your friends make for this story you start to feel full ownership of. (You haven’t noticed yet how much of a control freak you are.) Their writing and art give you life, especially considering they are doing The Most while you mostly just come up with ideas. The setting goes from apartment building to boarding house and back again before a year has passed. The first anniversary is a blast! You actually wrote something! And drew something you were proud of! Others wrote and drew and it was great. (How would you know it would never be like this again?) 

And the years go by and by… 

After the first year, you decided you wanted to make a dating sim with these silly characters because you just loved them so much. You shipped the characters (not realizing that your friends did it as a way to express they had crushes on each other, conveniently shipping your self-insert with the only man/only character not based on a friend.) There were still a lot of headcanons being made and posts being shared. But noticeably less and less. Then the second anniversary hit. Not much fanfare. After the second year, more characters started popping up based on more friends you make. Some of the friends that were there in the beginning weren’t anymore and you try not to think about it. After all, these characters aren’t your friends, they are separate and distinct from them. So it’s still OK to play with them, right? (The answer must be yes; ten years later you still do.) Then the third anniversary happens, with 4 posts between them. It was understandable. That was your senior year of high school. Everyone was getting ready to go their separate ways. You were moving clear across the country. Your friend group was getting smaller still and this big shake-up would prove who would stick around to still be a part of this thing and who would remain a memory for you to look back on in ten years. 2017, though, was a big year for the blog. You were unemployed and not yet going to college so you had A LOT of free time on your hands. It was probably the most number of posts you made since the first year of the blog. It was magic. Then you got a job. There have been 16 posts in the last 6 years. 2019 had none. 2020 and 2021 had one each. They were all made by you. There has certainly been less activity on the blog but that doesn’t mean these kids have been lying dormant all this time. You haven’t stopped thinking about them since they first popped up into your head. In 2019, you rewrote the story you had written for one of those anniversaries; the first chronological beat. (You haven’t read it since then; You have no idea if it’s good or not.)  In 2020, you attempted to write the actual story (like fr fr) for NaNoWriMo -- you didn’t get very far but it’s the thought that counts? 2021 was a quiet year as far as actual writing goes - as was 2022 - but trust that your brain definitely didn’t forget about them. 

The Retro part of the Spective 

Alright, enough second-person POV. 

Ten years.

Ten years. 

Talk about hard pills to swallow (thanks FOB). 

I’ve had this “story”, these characters, banging around in my head for ten years and what do I have to show for it? A couple thousand words and a blog full of half-thought ideas? Around this time last year, I was excited about this anniversary. I made a new Twitter for it (before that died) and was planning on actually publishing something to do this story justice… and I chickened out. I convinced myself, once again, that I wasn’t ready. That other things were more important, they took precedence. Do I have even that much to prove I was right? No, I don’t because I really haven’t changed all that much in ten years, if you can believe it. I know, a real shocker. (I still like all the same things I liked back in high school for crying out fucking loud!) I wanted to reach out to the people I used to do this with, to see if they still wanted to be part of it. (I’m sure that wouldn’tve been at all hard, I wonder why I didn’t follow through?) I wanted to have something so I would be able to say, “I did it.” So that maybe, I could finally move on. But that’s the thing, isn’t it… I don’t want to move on. I’m stuck in this arrested development because I refuse to change, to give up any past part of myself. Because if I don’t have that, I don’t know who I am. 

So now what? What’s all this for? One big, sad diary entry reflecting on the parts of myself that I already know very well? 

Honestly, I don’t know. I was hoping I could come to some sort of conclusion by writing this but as it turns out, it only made me want to cry. 

I wanted this to end on a good note.

I spent all day writing this, I can’t end it like this.

So let’s instead talk about all the things that have changed about these goofballs over the years:

Mystic Cove is a city in a Northern California town. It started out in Florida, it almost ended up as a mountain town. I also briefly considered straight up placing it in San Diego because there are some nice, beautiful, old-ass buildings downtown that juxtapose the cold, sleek skyrises in such a way that I thought about writing something about being lonely in a city and finding your own family. 

Vast Acres has been an apartment building, a boarding house, Mediterranean Revival, Victorian, Queen Anne, even briefly considered a Bed and Breakfast. All I know is it has to be the place where this family gets together. At one point under the ownership and operation of Marvin’s dad Alejandro, it is now bequeathed to Marvin by a mysterious, freshly dead uncle/great uncle. 

Marvin is a wholeass person to me, in that he’s not completely knowable to even me anymore. Marvin is probably the person in Mystic Cove I know the BEST and that like doesn’t mean anything to me. Like yeah, I’ve written pages and pages and answered so many pointless questions about him but… I don’t know how else to describe him other than, “He’s an enigma.” The most significant thing about him that’s changed is I’m considering undeading his mom? Just because I feel like we’ve had enough dead mom media and it’s not something I can speak to truthfully. Briefly considered making her a runaway mom? But we’re still thinking about it. I think her name is Lily? 

Mel’s name went from Melinda to Melody because I decided Melinda was a weird name? And Mel likes music so I thought I would be clever. She went from “Marv’s sister” and side character to basically co-lead. Mel was even almost briefly considered as the real main character for a time when I thought to lean into its roots as a product of a high schooler’s imagination and go full YA coming-of-age adventure. It was actually the subject of my 2020 NaNo attempt. I decided against it because I loved Marv too much to push him to “supporting character” and if there’s something about me that’s developed, it’s that I don’t much care for YA books anymore. 

Amber is unsurprisingly my favorite because I’m a Leo. I think I finally decided on a backstory for her that I like and she’s not white anymore? Like, not fully anyway lmao. Before she was like, from someplace in England with like Spanish parents so like tan? But now we’ve decided that she’s from colonized Mexico and her father is a white devil. :) I’ll let you figure that one out. Over these ten years, I’ve grappled with the fact that an immortal is almost impossible to understand. I’ve gone back and forth on whether her immortality is on purpose or by accident or a curse or what. Honestly, I’m still thinking about it, I don’t know for sure what I’ll end up picking. Right now though, it is an involuntary immortality with her life being tied to her sister’s (yes, the cat). Details are fuzzy. I’d have to finish the main story first but if I were to make a spin-off, I would make a prequel story about Amber’s life because it is QUITE eventful. 

Lucas is a man now lmao. And so is Will. And they r gay. For each other. But that’s been that way from the beginning lol. I think Luc’s story had to do with self-worth and Will… Will didn’t have much going on in my mind. My instinct was to make him a himbo but Will has always been very smart in my head so I don’t think that will work? Dude’s beefy asf and mad respectful so perfect man tbh? No notes. 

Jenny’s been my way to try to break down the trope “Born Sexy Yesterday” because that’s just the kinda guy I am. No, but fr I think I was making a very infantilized version of Jenny initially and that’s why I shipped her with Mel in so many AUs?? I’m not against skewing Jenny younger to make that ship viable in canon but I don’t know if that’s the story I want to tell. I don’t think Jenny ever had a goal beyond “Get to the surface” which she gets when she makes her appearance in the story so?? Where do we go from here? Things to think about…

Rohen was fat (like a proper seal should be) before they lost their skin on the beach to some snot-nosed kid and became depressed. When they start healing on their depression journey, they start to gain weight again and it's a good thing. :) 

Everyone else I haven’t mentioned yet hasn’t changed much (ie. I haven’t thought about them much). It’s not that I have favorites (even though I just said that I did), it’s just that I basically go down a list whenever I think about these guys, and, due to my short attention span, I never make it all the way down the list. AND honestly, it’s probably for the best because looking back… there were WAAAY too many characters to keep track of ngl… Like it’s a slice-of-life thing, I know. Not every character has to be involved in every storyline but like… At some point, you have to draw a line at, “How many named characters with their own plotlines can I insert into this story?” YKWIM? Especially because at one point there was a whole roster of other people who lived in the apartment building when there were like 20 units. That was (rightly) reduced back down to just the core cast. 

You can pry Jonesy from my cold, dead hands, tho. He’s perfect. He can stay.

This post took me literally all day. 

I’m tired.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all this but if you are not me and you made it to the bottom, congratulations! You now know me on a much deeper level! :) I hope I can convince myself to buckle down and write, straight up. Maybe NaNo this year? No promises. I’m trying to apply for university this year and living situation issues might take precedence but such is life, right? 

Thank you.

I love you all.

For giving me this gift.

Even if you never intended to give it fully to me.

It’s mine now, bitches. >:) 

Here’s to 10 years! And many (but hopefully not too many) more…

Cheers. 🥂🍾

❤️

#camacho speaks #happy anniversary

[whaleofatjme1920]

In a Mirror Image (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 In a Mirror Image

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: blood, language, cheating (both physical but it's not like, in your face, and emotional)]

Part 1

The flowers that grow like weeds in your lungs bloom thicker and thicker every day. Your vision clouds with blue more often than not, and you can’t think about anything but the blossoms and blood that paint the bathroom with a hue you’re already much too used to. It’s a painful existence, and it’s getting worse. One of the most wretched parts? You’re deteriorating so fast that your vision no longer services you. You are blind, unrendered to see. You still choose to live in a delusion, and you are amongst the only who choose not to acknowledge it.

By now, everyone knows but only one other than you refuses to acknowledge it.

You hear Hoodie arguing with Jack more often than not. It seems the blond haired proxy is angry over what Jack has done to you and because he knows what Hanahaki does to those it takes root in.

“You’ll fucking kill her,” Hoodie seethes as he gets in Jack’s face for the fourth time this weekend. “Look at her-”

“I am!” Jack shot back, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “Who are you to come in here and speculate on something that you’re not a part of?” He growls. Normally, Jack likes talking to Hoodie, but not when Hoodie’s on a mission to prove Jack a sinner.

“I wasn’t even aware you still had one,” Hoodie retorts through grit teeth. “I can’t believe you. Look at the flowers Ja-” and before he can continue tearing into Jack, he hears your bedroom door open.

While you still share the room with Jack, neither of you are in it at the same time. You’ve taken residence up on the living room couch with Kate and Jack more often than not stays with Leia. The room you share is usually empty, much like your heart.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Hoodie suddenly greets you as you tiredly walk into the kitchen where the two men had previously been in a standoff. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, voice so much softer and gentler with you than what he had just been using.

You shake your head as you take a seat at the table. “I can’t sleep,” you say.

Hoodie’s brows furrow in sympathy before they knit in frustration when Jack sits next to you. He watches as Jack snakes his arm around you before he presses an empty kiss to the side of your head.

“No?” Jack says in a sickly saccharine tone. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod slightly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. “That sounds good,” you murmur back.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he pulls you in closer to his side.

“You disgust me,” Hoodie hisses to Jack as he gets up and pushes in his chair roughly, making the table bounce. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for a second as he leaves, roughly slamming the front door behind him.

“What was that about?” You ask, feigning innocence. You refuse to open your eyes to the situation you are in.

“He’s having a bad day,” Jack answers. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he hums as he presses another kiss to the side of your head.

The butterflies in your stomach are dead, but the flowers blood evermore.

“You’re still sleeping out here?” Kate hums as she takes a seat next to you on the couch. She looks exhausted and she’s covered in blood. Her mask is cracked too.

“I guess,” you yawn as you shift slightly from your not so comfortable position. “How has your day been?” You ask as you reach for a glass of water only to see it’s not there.

“Let me,” Kate says as she gets up once more. She knows you’re getting worse. After getting you a bottle of water from the fridge, she comes back to your side. “I’ve had a busy day. Met with an independent named Nyein. They remind me of a big cat,” she finally answers as she opens the water bottle for you.

You take it and begin to slowly sip from it - it stops the flowers from blooming ever so slightly. Your airway opens just a little bit. “Do they now?”

Kate nods as she flips mindlessly through the channels. “They said they’re falling in love with a human. Bad business,” Kate winces, her dark eyes watching you carefully. “I hope they don’t…”

“It’s bad business,” you suddenly say as you feel petals fill your mouth. You cough slightly and the small little forget-me-nots fall into your lap, thankfully free of blood this time. You take one of the flowers into your fingertips and observe it gently. “I hope they’re okay.”

Kate puts her hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing before finally settling on the early evening news. “You wanna burn these blue fuckers?” She asks as the flowers in your lap remain stagnant save for the buds that unfurl at an alarmingly fast pace.

You feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Morbid, your flowers have been springing up everywhere. They’ve infested the temporary house. So, you and Kate went around the place, plucking every single one before starting a bonfire in the backyard.

Toby, who considers himself a bit of a pyromaniac, was immediately summoned by the fire the two of you had cast in the backyard. He’d been out on a grocery run, and honestly, he had wanted to get out of the house.

The dynamics of the house had become uncomfortable to him. What with Leia and Jack sneaking off together and you coughing up a full greenhouse, he has been stressed. Toby can’t stand Jack and Hoodie arguing all the time as it reminds him of the life he tried to escape, and Masky can offer so much but ever since he renounced his love for Jay by force… It’s been hard. Toby knows it’s been hard for everyone involved.

He crosses through the house, sneers at Leia’s room, and then exits through the back to the scent of fire. He sees Kate’s arm around you as the fire blazes slightly blue.

“W-What are you g-gals up to?” He asks, coming to your other side so you remain in the middle.

“Burning stuff,” Kate nonchalantly replies. “You care to chuck anything in?”

Toby glances at you as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. “If I d-d-did, I’d be u-under c-charge for killing a-a-another under the O-Operator’s care,” he muses. He’s referring to Jack, of course. He takes in the scent of burning plant matter and blood and frowns when he remembers it’s yours. His hand reaches yours and squeezes gently.

You squeeze back.

Your experiences with Leia are lukewarm at best, and cold at worst. She’s something, she really is something. There’s moments when no one is in the temp house with you except for her alongside you, and those moments are tense, sharp, like a knife and burn colder than the depths of the sea.

The most memorable conversation you’ve ever had was the one that triggered a domino effect that would lead to a black hole in your chest.

“You’re still up?” Leia’s honeyed voice questions softly as she takes a seat across from you on the back porch at the glass table.

You find it more stifling inside so you choose to spend your time out. The weather is warm, afterall. The sun shines and fluffy clouds the size of whales swim overhead. You have a glass of pink lemonade made from a pouch Hoodie and Kate had picked up earlier. You find that the tang is enough to keep the flowers down.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You say in passing before you sip from the glass. You enjoy watching the rabbits in the backyard. They hop around without a care in the world.

She begins to thread her fingers through her long silver hair, braiding it. “I just think you should be resting,” she says. “You look so tired these days-”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Touched a nerve,” she sighs. “You know you’re getting worse, right?”

You shoot her a glare, but you know she’s right. You’ve actually been holding out surprisingly longer than most people with Hanahaki Disease. Most people succumb to it within a few weeks of coughing, but you’ve managed to hold out for damn near an entire year. That’s almost unheard of. You’ve been hacking up flowers, their stems, roots and blood ever since Leia came into your life.

Everyone tells you that you’re getting worse, but you should have been dead months ago.

“Stop it,” you growl.

“You’re killing yourself,” she continues. “You could just… Let it all go, y’know?” She hums as she continues to fishtail her silver strands. “Renounce your feelings for him and save yourself.”

You grip your glass and set it back down roughly on the table. “That is literally none of your concern,” you repeat, eyes narrowing at the blue eyed beauty across from you. “Acting like you care-”

“I do, though,” she cuts you off. “I know that the Slender Man has big plans for you, but with you wasting away like this… You’ll never live long enough to see them through.” She flashes you a look of concern, but you can tell it’s fake. It shines like pyrite.

“What, so you can take my place just like that?” You bite back. “You can’t even wait until I’m fucking dead?”

Leia giggles and you hate to admit that it sounds pretty. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Daddy always did say I got what I wanted.” Her eyes drift off and you’re able to see she’s no longer thinking about you, but someone who once loved her. She finishes the braid. “Happy six years to you and Jack. Give him all my regards, won’t you?” She stands up, eyes the rabbits feasting on the clover in the grass, before she plucks your half empty glass from in front of you.

“Leia-!”

“It’s not like you need it,” she chuckles.

“It’s a special day,” you said to Masky, a small smile on your face. “It’s our six year anniversary.” Your posture changes to attention as he closes the door softly behind him. He still smells like cigarettes, but it’s a pleasant scent you’ve found comfort in where others find it a nuisance.

Masky put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. “You need me to draw a portal or something for you?” He holds his arms open to you as you fall into them, part because you’re so weak and secondly because he knows you need the affection - even if he can’t feel it.

You feel light come to your eyes as you nod after leaving a note for Jack in your shared room on his nightstand.

‘Dear Jack, happy six years! I’d wait for you to get back, but I have a surprise for you at the field you gifted to me for our first anniversary. I await you with happiness. Love, R.’

Masky drew the portal in the living room, a mess of swirling cloud-like silvers and blacks before he laid eyes upon the place you once shared only with Jack. “It’s super pretty,” he says, dark eyes scanning over all the wildflowers. There’s weeds on the path, like no one has cared for it in a while. ‘How poetic,’ he thinks. ‘It’s an allegory for your decayed relationship with Jack.’

“No it’s not,” you giggle as you bring Masky down one of the weed and chicory covered paths to the gazebo. “But it’s special to me,” you hum as you take a seat.

Masky follows beside you. He doesn’t take a seat, mostly feeling it wrong to impose on a space that is Jack’s despite his respect for him falling so far from what it used to be, but takes in the scent of dying flowers all the same. It’s summer, and instead of the sun warming the soft petals, it’s burning them. When you cough up more flowers while waiting for the man who still holds your heart (and refuses to return it) you’re less than pleased to see that they blend in with the untamed mosaic.

“Are you still tired?” Masky asks softly as he lights up a cigarette. “You can rest, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You glance over to Masky before you rest your head in your hands, wondering where your lover is. You listen to the wind as it blows through the leaves. You listen to Masky’s hum, and eventually, you fall asleep.

You wake back up sometime during the night in your bed and not in a position you normally sleep in. It looks like whoever delivered you back here was extra careful with handling you. You only wake up because Jack has accidentally turned on the light.

“Shit, my bad,” he apologizes, quickly plunging the room back into darkness. “Did I wake you?” He knows he did.

“No,” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” That was the most rest you’ve had in months. “Where have you been?” You ask quietly, still choosing to remain buried in the sheets.

Jack slides into bed next to you and gets comfortable. He smells like perfume you don’t wear. Through the faint light of the hallway that peeks under your door, you can see he’s got dark marks on his neck and jaw. “Leia wanted to show me her childhood home. Place isn’t run by Zalgo anymore, so we took a trip out there.”

“Did you now?” You hum as you feel tears prick your eyes.

Jack can see you in the dark. His vision at night far surpasses a human’s. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. Jack knows that his relationship with you is gone, and that you’ve been coughing up flowers for the past year. He knows, and it hurts him. Hurts him deeply that he’s the one causing you such pain, but at the same time, he’s a coward. He chooses not to let you go cleanly because his relationship with Leia is so finite.

He knows she only wants him because at the time he was unattainable. Now that she has him, it is only a matter of time until she does to him what he’s done to you. He understands that fully, but he refuses to leave the safety net that is you because he is selfish. His feelings for you aren’t nonexistent, but it’s that kind of fondness one has after the deed has been done, a love based on past memory and sentiment rather than what will and can be. It has reached his threshold, and you both are too caught up in security rather than what is healthy.

“I did,” he says as his mind rushes a mile a minute. “What did you do today?”

You wonder if you should answer that honestly or not. Would he even care? “I stayed here today, nothing special.” You feel the flowers unfurling in your lungs.

Jack hums once more, his back now facing you as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

You met Masky in the bathroom again, hacking your lungs and more of those fucking flowers up into the bathrub and the sink. Hell, you even got some in the toilet. Your body is growing weaker and weaker by the day. The fact you’ve held out for a year is astronomical, but you know you’ll be being taken from it eventually. No one survives Hanahaki when their lover’s feelings aren’t returned. It either gets returned, or you lose them all entirely.

He almost lost you. You broke the mirror when your body went limp as the vines and flowers crawled out from your lungs, through your esophagus and out of your mouth. If it was an art installation piece, Masky might’ve thought it beautiful, but the fact you went cold and limp and the flowers were blooming at a rapid pace - one he thought he couldn’t keep up with.

Masky, despite not being able to really feel anything, panicked as he took you into his arms. Did he genuinely care for you? No, but he cared to whatever extent the surgery left him with. He fretted because you are under his direct care. He cared so deeply because he too had seen many good proxies and independents lost to it. He cared because a part of him remembered what it was like to have daisies and rhododendrons fill his lungs. Normally, you only have one type of flower to clutter your lungs. Science says “just because.” An old wives’ tale says “love truly lost.” In his case? Jay’s death. Nothing was the same after that.

Masky took no hesitation in scooping you up into his arms and running out of the house to the forest to be closer to his boss’s energy. The Operator could fix this should he will it. He didn’t care that the lights in the house went on from his concerned proxies - the ones who had been sick over what befell you since you came into their care. He didn’t dare let you go as he trampled through the brush in the dead of night, using only the moon.

“Sir!” He calls out frantically. “Sir! I need your help!” He can hear your heart get slower and slower.

And just like that, the devoted father came to his child’s cry.

“My child,” he greets, instantly swooping down to look at your pained, flowery visage. “Did I not tell you to handle this?” He chides softly as he takes you into his arms. The sound of static only grows louder and louder.

“I thought she could,” he says, his tone clearly apologetic. “Please, just… Just fix this for me.” He watches the Operator closely as the tall man holds you in his arms.

While you are not exactly his child directly, you are also still under his care. Leia did not lie that the Operator sees good things for you. Without any other words, the tall man is gone, giving you to gods know who to perform a surgery that should be considered the only humane way out.

He returns to the house where Hoodie, Kate and Toby eagerly awaited him, clamoring around him and pecking like hens wondering where you are. He says that you’re in the hands of a god.

You floated in the ether, your body a galaxy. You watched as your chest was torn open - looked like by the hands of an independent that had talons to rival an eagle.

‘There’s so much,’ she says, her mouth turning into a frown as she worked on carefully removing the clusters of flowers. ‘How is she not dead?’

The Slender Man continues to observe, not offering the doctor any words.

The spirals and swirls inside of you continue to swirl before the flowers get torn out, one by one. The roots that cling to your lungs are stubborn, but with every single one removed, the lights of a different universe go out. Snuffed. Lost. The cavity in your chest grows wider until it births a black hole.

‘How much longer?’ The Slender Man asks, watching as the independent calls in another to help her rid your body of weeds.

She shakes her head as she continues to root them out. They bloom under her touch. ‘I have no idea - she must’ve felt so strongly-’

‘They just keep coming up, Sir,’ the other interjects, her four eyes scanning you rapidly.

The black hole begins to suck up the stars and nebulas that comprise your system. It feasts on you, making every part of what made you you, disappear in its depths. It grows larger as it consumes you. It grows heavier. It grows more powerful.

‘We’re almost there,’ the taloned independent says, her wings fluttering softly to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad before.’

‘Fix this,’ the Slender Man seethes, his patience wearing thin. He knows your body will not be able to handle this much longer.

The black hole reaches its mass, and slowly, it begins to consume you. It overtakes you, bathes you, and leaves nothing left when it has taken all that it can. Your body is empty. You are a shell. Glimpses of blue, grey and reddish brown flash in your mind’s eye and through the eye of the black hole, but you cannot place the feelings you used to associate with them. You remember, but you do not feel.

The last of the flowers are pulled. The taloned independent is exhausted, and her partner is just as tired. ‘Good fucking lord,’ she breathes out, exhausted from the late night gardening session. ‘In all my years I have never seen that awful disease take hold of an individual that bad,’ she notes. Her bird-like eyes watch over your open chest to make sure they’ve fully cleared it out.

A single forget-me-not sprouts, and the Slender Man is the one who plucks it. Just like that, the flowers, their roots, all evidence you’d ever had life inside of you, is gone. Withered and wilted away.

The black hole takes all that you have to offer, and you are back to consciousness, no longer floating, no longer a home to the vibrancy of the universe.

What came after was a bit of a blur. The Slender Man had brought you back to the safe house you had called your home for the past year surprised to see that some of his favored children were still away, waiting for you as the light of the sun rose over the grass. It was a new dawn.

“How is she?” Hoodie asked, immediately springing up.

“Fixed,” was all the Slender Man said, his gaze shifting from you to your group’s leader. “Masky, I’m entrusting you to watch over her as you have been through something similar.”

“Of course,” the dark eyed man says as he takes you gingerly into his arms. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

“One last thing,” the tall man in a suit hums. “I am taking Eyeless Jack from this house. Leia will stay with him.”

“It’s probably for the best. We trust your judgment,” Masky replies.

The Slender Man’s head gently cups Masky’s cheek before he leaves them with the sound of static that dissipates as fast as it appeared.

You spent the first few days after your surgery under bed rest. The Slender Man had healed you but he still worried for the state of your lungs. You needed the rest, and you were pleased to have it. Other than that, you felt… nothing. You were numb. Fleeting feelings of happiness or thankfulness, maybe something melancholic would slip through but ultimately, you were nowhere near your old self.

Jack was not allowed anywhere near you. That was one of the first instructions given to him when the Slender Man had popped into his head. While he did not have an opinion on Jack’s unfaithful behavior, he was more displeased with the fact he’d kickstarted the disease in you. The Slender Man thought that if he started it in Leia, then perhaps everything would turn out alright.

So, he sent the two out with a different group - which mostly meant Jeff, someone the Slender Man knew detested behavior that Jack had committed.

It was not easy for Jack to share the same space with Jeff after word had gotten out about you.

“You’re my best friend,” Jeff had sighed one late afternoon, refusing to even acknowledge Leia in the room. “But that? That was fucked up.”

Jack hummed and kept his gaze on Leia, who looked at him with nothing short of adoration. “Sure.”

Jeff sighed once more and stood up. “You don’t feel an inch bad, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re a shitty guy but you’re an even shittier liar.” Jeff broke the door with how hard he’d slammed it on his way out.

Jack really wasn’t the same, that much was apparent. He’d slowly been becoming more withdrawn and quicker to agitation. Of course, he’d take it out on whoever was around to deal with it. Leia included - it just came in a different form. One in which she’d never complained. But when things were rough between them, things were rough.

Jeff could hardly stand the two most days, so when he’d sneak out, it was with his dog to come pay a visit with you. And he hated how dull you had become.

“Masky used to be a lot more personable,” Jeff would say. “Life of the party when we could get him out of his pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Then he hurled flowers and we knew something was wrong.” Jeff’s hand rubs your back gently as a sign of friendship.

“And then?”

“Then he got that stupid surgery and now he’s just existing. No further purpose, just existing because some pale guy says so for his benefit.” Jeff huffed and looked up at the setting sun.

You found your gaze following his.

“What you’re doing right now,” he began. “It’s no way to live.”

“Would you have rather I’d succumbed to it?” You asked, not adding any inflection to whether you’re happy or sad, hurt or even offended.

“In all honesty?” Jeff tore his eyes from the pink and blue sky. “Yeah. This,” he gestured to you. “This isn’t you.”

Everything you’re supposed to feel feels dampened. Instead, you nodded. “Note taken.”

Jeff frowned.

The first time Jack was able to see you after your surgery was nearing halfway to what would have been seven months. It’d been a rough time without him seeing you, mostly because the guilt had been devouring every humanity he had left. Nothing could fill the void.

Like the first time you had met him, it was an accident when you crossed paths once again. You had been clearing out a house one fine winter’s evening, doing what had been asked of you before you got the faintest scent of something familiar and something you once recognized as comforting. You furrow your brows, weapon at your hip as you slowly and quietly come down the stairs.

Your lips are pressed into a thin line as you peer into the living room. Snow falls outside the window.

“Reader?” A male voice asks, turning around from the hallway. “Is that you?”

You tilt your head slightly as you register the mask you’re looking at. Eyeless Jack, mostly just known as ‘EJ’ or ‘Jack’. You’ve never really spent any time with him though outside of little jobs, so you have no idea who this is or why he sounds so happy to see you.

“Uh, hi, EJ?” You say as you walk at a leisurely pace down the stairs.

Jack freezes momentarily as he comes to greet you in the living room. He’d almost forgotten that when the flowers are removed, so too are the memories alongside feelings.”It’s… It’s good to see you,” he says as he looks down at you, wondering if he should touch you or not.

“I guess it’s nice to see you too,” you say. “What are you doing in this area?” You inquire. You vaguely remember the Slender Man not wanting you two to be in the same area.

“Just out and about,” he answers as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Leia wanted to uh, hunt down some of her sisters - I - it doesn’t matter,” he suddenly finishes, feeling much too awkward to even look at you. He knows you don’t remember, but he certainly does. Looking at you… He has a fresh slate.

“That’s nice,” you say in a tone that’s clearly disinterested. You walk towards the living room windows and look into what is now a cold winter’s night. You can see the snow still falling. If you want to make it back to Masky before he gets worried, you’ll need to head out almost immediately. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jack slowly comes to your side and puts his attention on you, watching as the snow continues to fall. “Yeah, the prettiest,” he says softly, desperately trying in vain to hold back on scooping you into his arms. There’s something scratching at the back of his throat.

You nod once again and zip up your coat. “They’re expecting me,” you say, gearing up to brave the snow.

“Do you need any-”

“No,” you cut him off. You’re not sure why it comes out so harshly, but you figure it must be a remnant of a memory you no longer have access to. “I can manage on my own.” You brush past him and open the front door, eyes momentarily clamping shut at how cold it is before you step onto the porch. The sound of the crunching snow is satisfying.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack says softly, not moving from his place as he continues to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

You turn your head briefly over your shoulder, “and you as well.”

Jack hears the door close and you walk off into the night, back to a group he was barred from. That tickling in the back of his throat grows more and more prevalent until he clears his throat. Feels like there’s something on his tongue. He coughs a few more times before holding his hands in front of his mouth, displeased to see the small blue petals he knows will bloom to full flowers in a time frame that is too long to be considered fair.

#eyeless jack #xreader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta #hanahaki #angst #masky #hoodie #brian thomas #tim wright #kate the chaser #reader insert #slender man

[ratretro]

Hallo!✌

Do you have any bkdk fic recs? Please and thank you. 🤗

YOU BET I DO

These are a collection of recs from me and my fellow chaos server bkdks. I'm only doing AO3 links because that has a proper tagging system so you can look through them and decide on your own terms which ones you want to read. :) I highly recommend looking through the author's other works as well.

Some of these you may have already read if you've been in the bkdk fandom for a while. Recs under the cut!!

are u dating?? by ladyofsnails

This one is by far one of my favorites and I re-read it constantly. It's precious. Here's the summary:

Izuku's life is going amazingly well, with his Twitch channel where he streams himself playing video games and discussing the nerdiest things imaginable hitting 3 million followers, his best friend as his roommate, and his other close friends as tight-knit as they've been since high school. The only possible road bump is his viewer's continuous demands to know who "Kacchan" is - thanks to Katsuki often coming into his room during streams and Izuku's repeated attempts to pull him into video game competitions - and, more importantly, if they're dating. Which is crazy.

The Way You Used To Do by Edema-ruh

This one gives me physical and emotional pain but the pay off is so worth it. It also has a sequel, but I can't say anything on it, because I haven't had a chance to read it lol This is also available to read in multiple languages. Here's the summary:

"We're really sorry," his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. "But your friend, Izuku, he's... He's gone, son."

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

"What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!"

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan are soulbound.

If It's You by lalazee

Okay so this one is fucking great because it's based off of one of my fave 90s movies this one is a rec courtesy of Ash. Also, it's a one shot. Here's the summary:

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF by kewltie

I'm a massive sucker for streamer AUs lmfao but this one's really cute. The way it's written is unique and might take some getting used too but it's cute. This one is courtesy of Mis lol Here's the summary:

Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

(may the bridges i have burned) light my way back home by Chrome

Alternatively known as: my heart is broken and I love them your honor. It hurts my soul but its definitely hurt/comfort :') This one is incomplete, but def a good read. This one is courtesy of Klancey Here's the summary:

Since Bakugou Katsuki discovered the secret of One for All, he and Midoriya Izuku have been slowly repairing the friendship they once had. They still haven’t talked about it—but Izuku’s certain that it’s only a matter of time before they manage to lay the past to rest.

But when the League of Villains attack the Sports Festival and Bakugou takes a devastating blow meant for Izuku, the whole nation is suddenly paying attention to a relationship the two people involved barely understand. Izuku needs more than ever to figure out who he and Kacchan are to each other—preferably before the internet does.

or,

“Fuck you,” Bakugou said. “I don’t need a whole face to kick your ass.”

#this is a short list because im shit at keeping track of my fics #im that reader who just leaves all their browser tabs open and never saves anything lmfao #anyway here are a few recs #i also limited myself to ao3 only because of their tagging system but #hope you find something you like in here #bakudeku #katsuizu #fic recs #ratnon

[dreamkidddream]

Can i request scenario 7/ quote 1

Thank u !!💘💘💘💘

Love ur writings 😊😊

Thank you!! 💙 so I decided to just go with the scenario on this one so hope that’s okay, but I do has extra fluff to make up for it 🥰 Just imagine that you’re literally shaking and covering your eyes while Fyodor’s just sitting there like 😐😴 reader is gender neutral!

Prompt Scenario: “Person B and Person A watching a horror movie and Person A is scared to sleep alone, so Person B keeps them awake all night, talking about whatever comes to mind.” with Fyodor!

This was not suppose to happen.

You knew that it’s just a movie but it did more than just send chills down your spine; it stayed lingering in your mind, hours after you and Fyodor watched it.

You are so jealous of your boyfriend right now.

There you were, flinching and shaking borderline cowering into his side, while he just stared at the screen, bored and emotionless. The only time he shown any type of reaction or emotion was when he chuckled out of amusement at you. Even now, you can still hear him in your mind snickering at your expense in your shared bed.

Wait a second...

You’re not imagining that; he’s still laughing at you!

“Can you really not sleep because of that film? Dear, we have seen and done much worse that what was shown”, he laid facing your back, you were too embarrassed to even make eye contact with him. “And the film was poorly made and rather childish itself. Even the disembowelment of the parent was-”

“Can you not?!”

You could feel his eyes burn into your back, just imagining his entertained smirk. “I’m going to sleep, goodnight Fyo.”

He didn’t even respond, you just felt him shuffle around and then grew quiet. You were tired anyway, and you wanted to go to sleep and just forget about this whole event. You loved spending time with Fyodor, but you felt like this night was terrible. You don’t know why you suggested the horror movie (really it was because you wanted to see some type of fear in him, maybe get a couple of laughs out of it, but oh how the tables have turned), but it was a complete fail. You just wanted to ignore this ever happening, possibly laugh with him in the morning about it, but for now you wanted to act like this never happened.

Hopefully with Fyodor by your side, you could find some solace.

You just wanted to go to sleep, and you willed your eyes closed.

—-

You couldn’t sleep.

Every time you closed your lids, all you could see was the carnage of that movie along with the ghastly demon threatening to claw your eyes out. You tried to block it out, but it just seemed to make it worse, making a home in your head.

You tried everything: counting sheep, thinking about boring stuff like paperwork, drinking tea, stretching, literally everything and nothing was working. You were about ready to duct tape your eyes shut-

“Sleep escaping you?”

You jumped, turning to Fyodor, eyes blown wide. He sat up, back against the headboard and raven locks disheveled. You began to feel guilty, you didn’t mean to wake him. Just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean that he should go without it.

“Sorry. I’m just- I’m just having a hard time falling asleep, but I’ll get over it, so go back to sleep-”

“What do you dream of?”

“Huh?”

“What do you dream of?” He repeated. “What do your dreams consist of? Are they like the fairytales young children read so much of, or is it of the reality we live now?”

“I don’t...really know. Maybe a mix? I have good dreams and I have bad dreams, but they’re just random.”

“Do they ever include me?”

You could feel the warmth spread throughout your body, a little shy about his questions. What brought this on?

“Erm- sometimes...”

You know that hearing this confession just adds on to his arrogance, boosting his already inflated ego, especially when he grasps your chin and tilts it towards him. You always catch yourself being lost in his eyes, the dark violet drawing you in every time without fail. He brought you in closer, you could feel the ghost of his breath fan over your lips.

“Tell me more.”

—-

You lost the track of time as you felt yourself being lost in the conversation.

Exchanging these talks and personal thoughts with Fyodor were always more than intriguing, as the man was incredibly intelligent. His words are always thought provoking, feeling involved enough to where you don’t feel like he’s mocking you, but encouraging you to tell him your true convictions. He easily started the conversation and never interrupted, becoming the listener as you spilled your heart to him.This held true as you both talked the entire night, not noticing it until you had the sun beaming it’s rays through the blinds in your face.

You both stayed up the whole night, and this was evident as you failed to hold in your yawn, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up to you. You were even struggling to keep your eyes open, never noticing how you shifted your head onto his chest and your body snug against his over time. Once you did notice, Fyodor was already shushing you and gently kneading your scalp, lulling you to sleep.

“Don’t try to fight it, (Y/N). Sleep.”

You tried to mumble out a whine, and you could have been imagining things, but you felt a soft kiss on the top of your head and covers being pulled over you. You felt so cozy, only nestling more into him.

Fyodor gazed down upon you, content. He still is amused on how a cheap movie like before was able to strike fear into you, but he suppose that it had a better outcome than expected. He didn’t give out much affection as you would like (he could tell whenever you longed for him), only when you two were behind closed doors did he feed into your desire. The peaceful expression dawning your face, no fidgeting or worrying about anything coming to snatch you away, let him know that one of his goal was accomplished.

He has goals for this universe that needs to be achieved, and you keeping this tranquil expression on you face is a must. Nothing will get in the way of that, and if anyone does try to disrupt that, he will have no problem punishing the criminal.

Having you stay safe and being by his side will always be the goals that he will reach, with no hesitation.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd reader insert #bungou stray dogs reader insert #dream’s 100 + 200 followers prompt special 💙

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 17]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, intercrural sex, lots ‘o teasing, dirty talk/the absolute tiniest bit of degradation, some cum play/cum eating, seungcheol having a kink for thighs/thigh highs 😳😗 welcome to the weekend my bbys!! I hope yall are having a good day/night!! Also again, another inbox roundup tomorrow(also an updates post)!! 💕 Might be a regular thing for the next 4-ish weeks ‘cause I have been so busy this month 😭 and I can’t believe there’s only 3 more chapters of CB left!! 😭😭 some bangers on the way tho LMAO 🤣 As always, thank you so much for the love and support!!💕💕 Have a great rest of your weekend and enjoy ch 17![cheol voice] seventeen right here 😌💕🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - x - x - x

Seungcheol doubles over in laughter, tears blurring his vision as his laughs turn into quiet wheezes.

“God, this is so embarrassing.” Seokmin mutters; cheeks burning crimson when he glances over to Jeongguk who shrugs back. “Maybe I really should quit…”

Jeongguk scoffs jokingly, “Maybe you shouldn’t have lied. No offense, but all the staff here probably have at least seen her before and you just so happened to lie to her actual boyfriend. That’s honestly really lucky if you ask me! You should buy a lotto ticket!” Seokmin whines back, shifting on his heels as he watches Seungcheol start to wipe the tears away.

“Hyung, can you please take this Edible Arrangements I got you so I can go ask Namjoon-hyung to fire me?” This only causes Seungcheol to laugh harder and this time, Jeongguk can’t help the giggle that bubbles past his tightly pursed lips.

“Please!” Seokmin begs, shaking the basket of skewered fruit at the older male. “I heard the diner across down is still hiring, I can still save the rest of my dignity if I leave now!”

Seungcheol shakes his head, eyelashes wet with tears when he takes the gift from Seokmin’s hands to place it on the countertop of the concession stand. “Hate to break it to you but she works there and one of the staff is also one of her regulars so I think your best bet is workin’ here. Embarrassment and all.”

“So, okay… But you’re not mad?”

Jeongguk peels the cellophane off of the basketed fruit, looking to Seungcheol for permission before he takes a skewer. “Go ahead. And no, I’m not mad. If anything I should apologize too, I shouldn’t have let you keep lying when I already knew. But also, to be fair, we weren’t really… official ‘til recently.” Seungcheol shoots the younger male a sheepish smile; cheeks a pretty pink of their own. “And it’s kinda been nice meeting you guys too. It’s great to know you’re not all weirdos.”

Seokmin laughs lightly, breathing a sigh of relief. “Okay, cool, ‘cause this place pays really well and I’d hate to stop working here and you guys are a lot cooler than the coworkers I had before.” He rolls his eyes jokingly, leaning up against the countertop as he picks off a strawberry from the basket.

“Don’t even get me started on this coworker I had at the last place. His name was Mingyu, I think? Suuuuuch a kissass. I had to move to manning the register at all times just so I could avoid him pickin’ his nose in the backroom and then pretending like he was doin’ shit.”

“Hey, Seungcheol-hyung?”

Seokmin’s inquisitive voice has Seungcheol turning; setting the rollerskates in his hand down onto the bench. “Yeah?”

“Do you think it’s weird that we’re, like, watching your girlfriend?” He tilts his head in thought, eyes blinking up to the ceiling. “I don’t want to overstep or something if it’s weird, y’know? I’ve been thinking about what Jeongguk said earlier...”

Seungcheol grins back at him, eyes twinking. He’d also thought about that before too, when he first found out that Jeongguk had also watched your streams.

“I don’t really mind ‘cause at the end of the day, it’s you watching me fucking my girlfriend.”

“Well, I’m glad he took it… well?” You giggle, tugging the white thigh high up your leg.

Seungcheol pulls off his shirt as he sits on the edge of the bed; tossing the wrinkled material onto the floor as he laughs under his breath.

“He did give me an Edible Arrangements while I laughed so hard I cried. I think he’s learned his lesson.”

xcaliburDK: good news, i didnt quit!!

chwenon: i was gonna say

chwenon: u literally started like last week

universe_WZ has donated $75

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

therealchan99: u look rly pretty in ur white set!!!

“Aww, thank you! It’s one of my favorites~ And ‘xcaliburDK’, I’m glad you didn’t quit!” You wink at the camera, giggling softly in Seungcheol’s lap as he peppers kisses along your shoulder.

A shiver runs up your spine at his gentle touches and you easily melt under his soft kisses and roaming fingertips. He ghosts them across your breasts, teasing you through the thin lace as you mewl and squirm against his cock that’s pressed firm against your ass. “A-ah, S--Seungcheol…”

tangerine_kwan: she looks so happy now that she can call ur name out lol

alphagyu97: now i cant pretend its me tho

gentleman_josh95: i mean i guess but are u even built like him

alphagyu97: well

Your body slowly starts to fill with warmth; soft stuttered breaths falling from your lips when he drags his fingers down your torso until they play with the hem of your panties. “M-more… tease me m-more…” He grins against your shoulder; hooking a finger around the waistband of your panties and tugging it away from you before letting it snap against your skin.

“‘Cheol!” Whining, your legs snap shut on impulse as you feel a gush of wetness soaking into your panties.

“Ah, ah, ah, part those legs, princess. Don’t make me have to punish you.”

kitty_junjun: no thats what the shibari stream is for right? Right? 😩

artist8hao: is that really happening bc i want to see it

alphagyu97: u guys should do it and think of it as like a rebrand of the channel ykwim

hoshi_tiger_xx: jdfkjhf like a grand re-opening under new management

therealchan99: what is this, a restaurant?

chwenon: u guys should come up with a new channel name too or sth

Seungcheol manages to read off a few of their comments; committing some to memory knowing that your eyes were still sealed shut as you focused on his soft touches.

He drags his fingers down further, humming when he can already feel how wet you were getting. “Hmm~ Already soaked through your pretty panties, baby~” Your head rolls back against his shoulder, nodding gently as you start to grind against the fingers that he uses to press into your clothed, wet folds.

“F-feels good w-when you, ah, t-tease me…”

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol smirks, eyes twinkling at the camera. “You really like it, huh? When I just touch you gently like this. Not enough to get you off but just enough to get you soaking wet until you’re begging for my cock.” He pauses; pressing a soft kiss to your skin. “I wanna try something with you, pretty baby~”

You gulp as you raise your head from his shoulder and he retracts his hands from your body as you shift your body and slightly turn to the side to face him.

Seungcheol’s eyes are blown wide with lust and you can already feel his cock throbbing against your lower back as he smiles dreamily at you.

“I think you’ll like it too.”

A stuttered moan falls from your lips as Seungcheol’s cock slides past your tightly clasped, yet shaky, thighs.

“O-oh, ‘Cheol, this--this is…” The words die on your tongue as your head falls forward and Seungcheol is quick to reprimand you, just as he draws his hips back.

“Baby, I want you to watch yourself on the screen. I want you to see your cute face while I tease your pretty body.” He moans; thrusting between your wet thighs as your hazy eyes peer at the laptop’s screen. Your lips are swollen and your pupils are blown wide when you catch yourself and you can see the head of Seungcheol’s cock only just breaching past your clamped thighs when he thrusts forward.

You let out a guttural moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he alternates between thrusting between your thighs and letting his cock slide against your soaked, panty-clad mound. 

He hadn’t bothered to undress you at all, but you didn’t mind. The material of your panties only added onto the pleasure with every drag of his cock against you.  

Seungcheol teases you even more; dragging his hands down to your thigh highs and letting his fingertips play right underneath the hems before pulling the material away from your thighs and letting them snap against your skin, much like he’d done with your panties.

“Ah, fuck, m-more! P-please…” He repeats the action a few more times, playing with the sheer fabric of your thigh highs before he draws his hips back. Except this time, when you expect him to thrust back between your legs, he wraps a hand around his cock instead, guiding himself until the head of his cock is rubbing up against the sheer fabric.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty with cum all over your pretty thighs. I should cum all over your panties and your white ‘lil thigh highs and get them all soaked. Don’t you think they’d be cute? Sticking to you like a second skin? Translucent ‘n soaked through with my cum?” He laughs under his breath, watching through the laptop screen at the way you bite your lip and furrow your brows at the thought.

“I--I want t-that… I want S--Seungcheol t-to make, ngh, a m-mess…”

angelhan: i kno we say this all the time but can u upload some pics of that later

angelhan has donated $75

universe_WZ: seconded cuz thatd look so fuckin hot

universe_WZ has donated $50

alphagyu97 has donated $75

alphagyu97: fuck, like a lil angel covered in cum

Seungcheol teases you and himself at the same time; rubbing his cock against your fabric-clad thighs. He spreads precum onto the material, licking his lips when it already becomes translucent and sticks to your skin.

He positions his cock back between your thighs once he’s had his fill and quickly finds himself doubling his pace when he sees how wet you’re getting his cock without even having taken your panties off. “God, look at you. I don’t even need to fuck you to get you this wet. You just need to rub your ‘lil cunt against my cock and it’s enough for you, huh? I should make you sit on my lap, rub your pretty ‘lil pussy on my cock ‘til you’re cumming over and over again.”

“Ngh, yes! Fuck, Seungcheol! I--I can feel your c-cock throbbing between my l-legs… Please, please c-cum, mmh, all over my s-skin…”

“That’s right, baby. So fuckin’ desperate to be covered in it too. And always so fuckin’ pretty when you are.”

You let out a whimper as you try to focus on watching yourself just like Seungcheol had asked you to. Your lips are parted in soft breaths and you can’t seem to unfurrow your brows as Seungcheol chases his pleasure behind you.

angelhan: what if

angelhan: seungcheol in thigh highs lmao

universe_WZ: sub.cheol

sleepy_wonu: sub.cheol

universe_WZ: jinx

sleepy_wonu: fuck u 

You lick your lips at the thought; although you knew Seungcheol would have a hard time relinquishing his dominating nature.

But your mind wanders as you continue to think about it; various images of Seungcheol tied up underneath you while you fucked yourself on his cock running through your mind. You let out a shaky moan, to which Seungcheol hums.

“What are you thinkin’ about, princess?”

“Um… ah, n-nothing…” He thrusts between your legs hard, making you jolt forward as you yelp.

“Princess...”

“I--ah! J-just thinking a-about… y-you tied up, ngh, to--to the bed and m-me fuh--fucking myself on your c-cock… ‘n me u-using, mmh, my toys o-on you...” Seungcheol smirks, pulling his cock from between your shaky thighs as he slightly pushes you over until you're on your back.

He spreads your legs as you look up at him and he’s quick to wrap a hand around his cock as he jerks himself off above you. “Oh, I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? I bet you’d be so cute trying to be the domme for a night.” Seungcheol teases.

You find yourself clenching around emptiness as you think of the possibilities. You definitely wanted to try it if Seungcheol was willing.

“Fuck, but first, gonna cover your pretty body with my cum.” He groans; thrusting up into his palm as he chases his high.

“C-cum all over me, Seungcheol…”

The donations and comments sound off in the back as you maintain eye contact with Seungcheol who’s brows furrow when he starts to feel himself about to cum. He scoots back a little; growling when his cock throbs in his grasp and he cums all over your, already, soaked panties.

You let out a moan when rivulets of cum hit your lower abdomen and you’re quick to reach down and scoop some up to bring to your mouth, smearing the warm substance against your puckered lips before licking it off. Whimpering, you dip your fingers into your mouth; this time pretending they were Seungcheol’s instead of your own.

He guides his cock until the head is aimed at your thighs; streaks of cum settling into the sheer material of your thigh highs. “God, you’re so damn pretty...” Groaning, he milks his cock for every drop of cum before he’s stopping to catch his breath.

“You came so much but I didn’t cum yet, ‘Cheol~” Pouting, you turn your head to the side to face the camera. “Tell him he has to make me cum now~”

kitty_junjun: well u heard the lady!!

hoshi_tiger_xx: make her cum and let her cream her cute lil panties even more

therealchan99: oh fuck yeah, get her off without fucking her cute cunt

Seungcheol leans over your body until the two of you are almost face to face, eyes twinkling with playfulness when you feel his sticky hand playing with your thigh highs again.

“D’you hear that? Let’s give them what they want, baby.”

The sounds of donations and comments once again get lost as Seungcheol finds himself on his knees between your legs.

“Ready?”

When you slide into bed after your camshow’s ended and Seungcheol has properly taken care of you, he’s quick to tug you into his chest. 

The two of you let out soft sighs at the warmth that envelopes you both as you finally start to settle in for the night.

After a few minutes, Seungcheol clears his throat, catching you just before you drift off to sleep.

“This is so random but have you considered, I dunno, rebranding your channel… with me? I was thinking about it and kinda wanted your opinion...”

You blink up curiously at him, urging him to continue. “I mean, yeah, of course! I don’t really know where to start though since it’s always just been me. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to either so I never brought it up.” You snuggle into his warmth, yawning as the sleep threatens to take over.

“But let’s talk about it later, ‘cause ‘m tired now, ‘Cheol. You really didn’t have to make me cum twice…” You mumble, “I can still feel my legs shaking...”

His soft laugh reverberates in your chest and he’s quick to press a kiss against your hair as he tugs you in closer.

“It’s ‘cause I like to spoil you. And okay. I’ll remind you when you’re more conscious.”

“G’night, ‘Cheol...”

“Goodnight, baby.” 

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups fic #seungcheol fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fic #scoups #seungcheol

[watayaaratamblr]

Chihayafuru chapter 226 [long] impressions:

This is more of "everything that went through my mind while reading every page of the chapter"

naturally, gonna be super ..like SUPER long.

1) Shinobu in her fine Kimono was happy or proud? What are the flowers around her? Who knows, we only know that anything they might symbolize is already clear on her face and pose. She played a very strong opponent, she had “special” fun and she won. Only one remaining win and she will preserve her title for the 4th year in a row. Chihaya on the other hand was lost… She did everything she could “come up with” but she still couldn’t win any of the two matches… maybe “come up with something new” was her mistake? Could it be that it’s impossible to defeat the queen in her world, should Chihaya bring her out instead, Chihaya probably didn’t even thought of this because she is completely lost, she worked very hard and her hard work paid off somehow but it is not enough Chihaya seems unable to have any fun; it’s all about needing to win for some reason, why the passionate Chihaya feels so far away?

2) Arata is shook! He is no longer seeing the Meijin in front of him, he is rather calling Chihaya’s name! On the Meijin board we can see 4 poems, (one was shown clearer behind Hiro who was confused with Arata’s sudden distraction; Sudo also noticed and wondered + the 4 poems seem all on Suo’s side?)

30/Ariake no: the poet expresses his hate for dawns after he had to part from his lover at a dawn with a moon that looked so cold and indifferent. 76/Watanohara-ko: This is the second “Arata” poem (as it starts with the word WATA). The poet describes white waves rolling onward which can be mistaken for the white clouds up in the heavens. 20/ Wabi nureba: a consuming passion poem in which the poet tells the woman he loves that he is willing to sacrifice everything to continue their relationship and that he will go meet her despite the heavy price he knows he will have to pay. 74/ Ukari keru: The poet is in distress because the lady he loves is cold to him and his prayers to be happy with her were futile.

The choice of these poems might be clarified when the cards are read but (because Suo seems shadowed somehow and the focus is on Arata), we can still think that they are about Arata’s feelings and what he wants to do about Chihaya’s state now and how she will treat him after her loss .. She already turned her head away from him after her 1st loss, she avoided him, and now she lost again and Arata who is in love with her is really worried.

3) Arata assesses the situation, Chihaya has 2 losses which will put a great pressure on her for the next games and give Shinobu the chance to be more relaxed. The image of Chihaya’s back when she rushed out with her hand on her face as if she was crying was so strong for Arata, the background intensifies what he felt, he was really worried and repeating her name while sweating (dunno if this was intentional, but he wasn’t sweating before he noticed Chihaya (on ch225)) On the other hand, Suo was still completely focused.

4) 78/Awaji shima: was read and Arata was late. Suo took it

This poem tells about the sleepless nights of a guard at some gate caused by the cries of the plover birds crossing the place known as an exile (the plover is also used to symbolize winter) so this poem might invoke the feelings of loneliness and nostalgia.

65/Urami wabi: was the next one and Arata was also late, the difference is now only 1 card. Sudo was cheering for Suo and wandering if a luck of the draw will be the fate of this game. Arata was taken aback!

The poet of Urami wabi is a lady who is separated from her husband so she felt resentment to him, she cried and her sleeves were always wet but what concerned her more was her reputation tainted because of her failed relationship.

These two poems didn’t appear on the board (because only the upper part was showing) but 78 was on Arata’s side & 65 was on Suo’s. The fact that 78 was the poem read to pull Arata out of his thoughts and keep him focused on his match makes me see it as the plover birds keeping the guard from going to sleep. It can also hint at the distraction itself, if sleep is what we do at night but the plovers prevent it, then Arata should focus on his game but his worry for Chihaya also prevents it, so his feelings or Chihaya’s state is the plovers. As for 65, I can’t think of many possible reasons but it might be the “reputation” part, maybe it’s a hint at Arata’s “name” as the “grandchild of eternal meijin Wataya Hajime” that everyone was eager to see through him which might soon be challenged.

5) Murao & Kuriyama wondered what happened to Arata after he achieved such good result till now. Suo had his eyes glued to the Tatami, his aunt was there, he knew but he didn’t try to look. Arata’s club-mates explained that this was a sign of Suo’s strength: he would use the least of your mistakes like losing your focus for even a sec. Riza specifically was very nervous. Arata started to revise what was read and what wasn’t. he kept good track of all read and unread cards, including the dead cards (Taichi was always praised when he did this but now that Arata is doing it, it feels normal and so like him, I believe we all know that Arata is stronger, Taichi showed us the process to arrive there but Arata was the first to arrive there, he definitely passed by most what Taichi experienced.). With this review, Arata knows what he can use his cross sweep on: Wabi & Wata-ko. Ariake is the 3rd remaining card on Tatami (besides the two above & the thress are drawn earlier on the board) but there are also 3 A cards not read yet (dead cards) which are 58/Arima+ 39/Asaji+ 64/Asaborake-u, Arata expects that Suo will wait to make sure of the 3rd syllable. Arata was worried & his grandpa’s ghost came to support him like Taichi and Harada’s ghost too, Hajime analyzed Suo before and he noticed that he wasn’t good with the cards on the outer edge of his own formation, this is something Hajime noticed back when he was alive and sane, was it like 5 years ago? So is Suo’s condition worse than back then?

6) Hajime’s teachings calmed Arata a bit, he is ready to fight again (he moves so handsomely), those where only words told to him by his mentor, but he is also a real deal, his body is ready, his hands are used to attack, he practiced enough to be able to go under his opponent’s hand to take a card, luckily an ‘A’ card on Suo’s side was read, Arata attacked and he practiced enough to be able to protect that card until the kimariji is decided (also Suo didn’t practice enough to know how to break that defense, it was a card on the edge of his playing field too, but there are only 3 cards left, so he could commit it to his memory as Arata said before on ch 223, the most important thing is memorization, having a card in your sight Then committing it to your memory, you’ll be able to see it even with closed eyes and Arata played like that before when he couldn’t find his glasses)

7) 30/Ariake is the one read, Arata put his hand on it when he made sure and Suo couldn’t find a way to it. Among the 4 poems initially shown on the board, this one was read. Who does it refer to? (if it does). Who is the unpitying moon? who parted with what? who feels longing for what? I can’t really think of an answer and I can’t even tell if there is an answer to begin with. But, it might have something to do with the idea of “committing the card to memory after sight” because when this principle was explained on 223, this card was among the ones shown around Arata & Suo. Arata’s family members where happy contrary to Suo’s family members.. These two panels made me think that in these matches between these two, the families of the players are as involved as the players themselves. (And Akira looks more surprised than happy, maybe he still doesn’t realize how his own words back at the hotel are true: “Arata, you are strong”.) The commentator confirmed the greatness of Arata’s move and there was a suspicious man behind him LOL (why was this man drawn there?)

8) Arata’s cover seems to be a high level one too, this is all Arata’s Karuta because he is the one using his body for it. Suo now seems in danger like Chihaya. Kuriyama & Murao are overjoyed and Arata went out with rather an indifferent face? there are no signs of relief or happiness, he looks rather lost in thoughts.. I was thinking that Suo acknowledged Arata’s strength (that beat him), but for some reason and contrary to Harada sensei, it’s not only “I don’t want to play anyone who is not strong”, he seems like he doesn’t even want to play this strong Arata, even when Kyoko tan who gives him enough motivation to play, he still couldn’t bring himself to use enough strength to defeat Arata…it’s like he is disappointed, he wants something else from him that Arata isn’t showing him… Anyway, Arata now doesn’t even look tired or invested in his win in any way.

9) Now he looks surprised, is it because he can’t see Chihaya anywhere? the half black & half white background was used before and in my case, it represents “Confusion”. In addition to the blush, Arata makes a completely unrelated face with the one he made after he won, it’s like the moment he came outside, he became someone else, or better, he was someone else but the moment he came out, he became himself again (can we then take the blush as an “Arata is himself” sign & its disappearance as a “Hajime mode” sign? XD) The SFX isn’t BAM right? because who is still taking cards? According to Google, it’s rather (バツ/ turn suddenly); And seeing Kana searching for her confirmed that she was nowhere around so he went to look for her right away, even before he reports his win and gives back the cards. (he looked like an old man in the 3rd panel lol) and in the 4th, he looked very concerned for Chihaya suddenly sweating and turning around in a hurry. Kana’s way of searching was by shouting loudly everywhere, while Arata’s reflects more of his personality and I like it, he won’t do random things, he goes to the places where she might be, calmly & silently.. I really love this. So he asks around, the bathroom was a good place to look in but she wasn’t there (and he was so amusing being all shy but asking anyway) These few panels tell me more about Arata’s character; he really is used to take matters into his hands. He didn’t go to ask Kana when was the last time Chihaya was seen and where etc. he didn’t approach those who were already searching for her, he went to do it himself. I already said that, but I guess, his parents & his family conditions made him this way. he couldn’t get support, he was rather the one asked to help so he learnt not to ask for help and to take care of things himself instead. The outside was the last place to look in, is it because Arata was more intuitive that he could find her before Kana who was already searching before he even finished his match? Who knows, but I certainly see Arata as a reliable guy, he always was and he is also now. And there she was, Chihaya was crouching on the cold snow…

10) Arata stuttered like usual before he gets Chihaya’s name out; A whole page just to tell us Arata found Chihaya crying desperately in the snow and her bare feet were red from cold. No special backgrounds, no hinting no indirect messages, it’s all snow and white and they were the only ones there. Arata put his hand on her back casually then lowered his head to see her face (imagining this in slow motion is so warm) and then noticed her freezing toes..

11) As Arata noticed Chihaya’s feet, he held her up on his shoulder, no blushing, no shyness, no hesitation, no clumsiness, his familiar self was buried and Chihaya is what matters now! Arata is strong! He is 177cm and weighs 65kgs while Chihaya is 167 and weighs 54kgs, not much difference right? And this wasn’t the 1st time he carries her, He did before when she fainted in her 1st nationals, he carried her bridal style, now it’s an OTS carry (yep, read about this on TV tropes and they gave it an abbreviation lol “Over The Shoulder carry”) Chihaya was surprised but her focus soon was turned to the box of cards that Arata dropped while carrying her, She started to apologize, she certainly sees the cards as living humans now, Arata wasn’t as concerned, she was 1st for him and everything will come after. When the box fell, 4 poems were revealed:

6/kasassagi no: The misty bridge between distant lovers that will bring them together for sure. 51/Kaku to dani: This is about a fierce love that the poet feels burning inside him but doesn’t know how to express it to the woman he loves. 26/Ogurayama: The poet tries to invite an emperor to visit a certain pretty place that his father visited before and he wished his son would come to see it too. He uses the maple leaves to express the felt desire & longing to see the emperor-son. And half shown, 72/Oto ni kiku: it’s about the known waves of "Takashi beach" that the poet doesn’t want to approach not to wet her sleeve, but it’s actually about her not trusting the invitation she got from a man and fearing a love affair that will end in tears, this poem can be used to express avoiding something not to get hurt by it…

Again, none can say for sure why exactly these poems but I strongly believe that they are a hint. And for me, they are saying something about the relationship between Chihaya & Arata (they are a love story!!).

Looking back on the history of poem 6, we can expect that Suetsugu is going back to the idea of "there is a distance between Chihaya & Arata which is like the distance of the two legendary lovers Orihime & Hikoboshi" but this time, Arata is the one who is preoccupied with this distance more... Kaku to dani: needless to say, this is about Arata’s feelings for Chihaya, they are burning again because Chihaya needs something to cheer her up so he needs to convey them somehow. Ogurayama: I believe this is about the maple leaves carrying Arata’s feelings. Even if he doesn’t try to show it or be vocal about it, even though he used his phone only 3 times to send something to Chihaya (was only a msg through Taichi, then a message to her & Taichi and finally a call-what a progress lol), but he longs for her and wants her to be happy like how the emperor would have felt if he came to see those pretty crimson maple leaves. He wants his feelings to make Chihaya happy somehow. And the half-shown Oto ni kiku is about fear of love and tears. This is about Chihaya who isn’t allowing herself to be involved with love yet! there is something she feels lacking which is necessary before she lets herself love and I believe it’s the thing making her turn her head away from Arata ..

Then Chihaya realized, then looked at Arata’s head, he won his much! he now has 2 wins and one more win and he will achieve the dream he shared with her, the kinda promise: “this weekend, let’s make our 1st dream the reality”

12) Then Chihaya cried, helplessly. She congratulated Arata through her tears but she was rather miserable… It’s so hard to be happy for him right? this is not a win which will be enough to get by either him OR her, whichever happens should be good if they are friends right? but no, this is about her!! I have a feeling that if Chihaya won & Arata not, she wouldn’t be very sad for him.. There is something telling me that Chihaya is only scared of being left behind by Arata, as long as he doesn’t, she will be fine, but if he does, she will feel devastated. this is such a strong word, but I mean it.

13) And she voiced a bit of her concern, she was afraid she can never win, even though she lost only by 3 cards, personally, I’ll think that from 7 cards to 3, I can make it in the next game, but Chihaya seems to think that the strongest she can be is the way she was in this second game, then she can only get close to Shinobu that much, not to lose with more than 3 cards. Arata was surprised; maybe he never thought she could lose hope? or maybe he is confused how she can say so when he believes that she can win against Shinobu.. And ofc, before he says anything Kana & Tamaru finally found Chihaya. Kana is as wary of Arata as ever, the n°1 Taichiha shipper. But apparently, she didn’t see Arata bringing Chihaya from outside, she saw only when he put her down and that looked “too close” for her and “hurry up, let’s go to your waiting room, it’s like she is saving her from Arata.. While our gentleman was putting Chihaya down so carefully while looking at her feet whether they are fine or not.

14) Kana is indeed a typical Taichiha shipper, I have seen it a lot, no matter what Arata does, he is always a target for hate or at least disdain. Approaching Chihaya is a big no for them let alone take caring of her. I tried to laugh at this panel, I thought that sensei really is referring to those fans, she might have wanted it to be a comical moment but it’s not. What I saw is that, again, Kana is putting Taichi & herself before Chihaya & it sucks. Arata didn’t even notice her though, thankfully, all he could see was Chihaya, the painful face she was making & her tears (The background of confusion as I call it).. Arata suddenly took us for another rare moment inside his stubbornly concealed heart, the clumsy guy who seems shallow & insensitive to lot of readers.. Chihaya’s weight alone made him look so deep into her and see so much…She is unfamiliar to him, he didn’t get to learn earlier about her everything, but in every second he is given, we saw him pay a lot of attention and see her with more than his eyes. Chihaya’s tears meant that she worked so hard and that didn’t pay off, she wouldn’t have cried this much otherwise. And he can already learn that much about her by just imagining what he wasn’t there to witness, she worked so so hard. Looking at his hands (Chihaya was there lol), he looked so deep in thought, but he remembered the cards he left on the snow..

15) He rushed to bring them but his thoughts were full of Chihaya and how to cheer for her, Arata acknowledged her strength, she is an amazing strong player who can really defeat Shinobu (he seems to believe he can also defeat Suo).but he is not good at communicating his feelings & thoughts, he is clumsy & he knows it..so will he hide his clumsiness to look cool like Taichi does most of the time? No, that wasn’t what Arata thinking, he was rather wondering about a way to make her know what might save her.. He took the cards getting now wet from the snow, he took 77/SE while he was wondering.. “Se” is about the separated ones who will certainly meet again.. it’s like Arata feels a boulder blocking his thoughts and feelings from reaching her and he wants to find a way to bypass it & reach her. “Se” has always been a special card for Arata and it is because of Chihaya..

16) It was the 1st card Chihaya took from him and he already got it back from her in their match but for Arata, SE is more than that. It’s the card that started Chihaya’s journey in Karuta. and Arata is confident that he is the only one who knows, and he is confident that the level she showed in her match with him is the highest she reached, or the highest anyone can reach, or at least, if she is defeated by Shinobu in 2 matches today and was already defeated by her in ch169 then it’s a level she didn’t go to again after her match with him and she still can do it. Arata’s head was really full of Chihaya, he is so focused on her that he totally forgot he too is where he worked to be for so many years, longer and maybe even harder than Chihaya herself (for almost 12 years, more than half of his life, no it’s 2 thirds of his life!!!), so the Murao twins came to remind him of what he forgot since the match ended, of the Meijin title & his grandpa. Only one other win to be were Hajime Wataya seems to have wanted Arata to be (or at least that’s what Arata thought)

17) Yep, Hajime is telling him to focus, to forget about Chihaya & concentrate on him & his goal. “Se” was shown again with the words “the mejin title”, is that the boulder separating the stream of the river?

18) Arata placed Se back on top of the cards in the box next to another card:

18/Su mi no e no: This poem is about hiding from people’s gaze when going to meet the lover, trying to avoid exposure even in dreams.. Doesn’t it suit the moment perfectly? when the twins came to remind Arata of the Meijin title and his status, he hid “SE” (representing also his feelings for Chihaya) in the box, it’s like how the poet who is an aristocrat from the great Fujiwara family (Fujiwara men are known to choose their wives in the family) is afraid of being exposed.

Arata closed the box, it’s also like “Se” keeps him the real Arata (he said that he lacked love to be himself, so maybe Se is his love poem to Chihaya, his love saves him regardless of whether she reciprocates it or not contrary to Taichi, his love always hurt him, like a curse) The Karuta officials are the happiest for Arata’s win it seems, he pleased them, he revived Wataya Hajime for them again, they are blessed, for them, it’s all about them & Hajime it seems, Arata isn’t really seen for who he is… Arata remembered when that man told him that because Arata’s Karuta is exactly like Hajime’s, he was able to see Wataya sensei again. Back then Arata cried, he said that he really loves Karuta.. Could it now turn into a curse? because it’s too much? Because he is losing himself? because he is not seen? Why was Arata happy back then? and is the reason weaker than any probable desire now to be seen for who he is?

19) Suo was upset! His dear aunt that he didn’t meet for 8 years suddenly came all the way from Kyushu to see him, but he wasn’t happy..He lost two games but he doesn’t seem worried about that... Yukiko was kind and looks like the sweets are a family thing? Sudo is confused (he is amusing when he is like that) & Suo’s cousin is more impressed because Suo had lot of female friends lol Suo was nervous, he wanted to ask how and why they were suddenly there but he stuttered and According to Yukiko chan’s answer, we learn that Suo developed the habit of soft talking after he quit Kyushu.

20) After 8 years of separation, she wanted to touch the boy she loved so much and cared immensely for, maybe it’s because she can’t see him well too, but she failed to reach his face, she couldn’t see well, and Suo felt so hurt, but like anyone else with pride, his reaction was based on his suffering not on hers. And instead of being hurt herself, she rather was worried about him, why would he be cruel to her unless he too is suffering from her same illness.

21) The whole conversation in this page feels weird. Suo raised his voice from frustration and these relatives didn’t try to listen to him before. The cousin rather teased him about his loss as if it’s nothing, (he highlighted the fact that Arata is a youngster too) And Yukiko’s answer was soething I didn’t expect! She doesn’t seem to care much about the Meijin thing, she rather looked hopeful (notice the sudden blush), she thought that if Suo is no longer Meijin then he can go back home. What was even more surprising is that Suo looked agitated but his answer wasn’t what I expected, he asn’t worried that his title doesn’t see precious that his relatives would want him to keep, he was rather worried that what they are offering is impossible because he grew up to become a stranger and going back to his home is impossible.

22) Seems that Suo would consider his home any place Yukiko owns, but he knew that she didn’t own the house she told him to go back to. (isn’t this a reason to work harder in univ then get a job and buy a house to bring Yukiko to live with him instead?) The cousin got angry because things like these aren’t considered in a warm loving family where elderly are respected and considered owners before what papers say.. Suo didn’t seem to want to listen, and he left hurriedly causing his condition to beclearer to his aunt as he bumped with many things in his way out. (BACKGROUND of confusion in the last panel)

23) Still, Suo couldn’t leave before knowing why they suddenly came. and the description was so easy to tell him who, Suo realized it right away, the boy with big eyes who would wish for Suo’s family to come watch him (because he is incredible & wants his family to know that? or bc he pities him?) The boy with big eyes was “Mashima kun” they called him this many times, now they didn’t mention the name, I wonder how Sudou would have felt if he knew? would he realize that Taichi really got the closest to Suo, somewhere he couldn’t go?

24) Chitose left, Chihaya’s mom knew but didn’t understand why, Kana, tsukuba & Nishida stayed out of the room while Chihaya, Tamaru, Namida, Sumire & the last boy from Mizusawa that went to Shiranami were all inside, Kana told the mom it’s better to stay out and those inside were all experiencing the reason lol Ah no, Namida was doing great, he is such positive and hard working boy, he is not wasting his time by being afraid or nervous, he is taking notes instead! Chihaya is the most nervous because she is the reason Harada sensei is furious. Harada never taught Chihaya to send back a card because the opponent will place it again in its original place that they remember well (and we know that Chihaya sent it to provoke Shinobu -see ch222), provocative Karuta based on the knowledge of what Shinobu hates and the cards she won’t place next to each other was Watarai’s teaching.

25) Yep, Shiranami’s way is to target the opponent’s memorization as much as possible, Shiranai members are scared of Harada but can’t deny that he is right, he is a great teacher, has a good experience in Karuta and in teaching, maybe them being present here to hear & learn is the biggest proof. Chihaya also didn’t lift her head, she knew he was totally right, she can’t think that losing was because she was unlucky in front of the strongest queen, it’s because of those small mistakes she allowed herself to make.

26) Harada’s words kept hitting hard for Chihaya. Maybe he didn’t say that she was wrong, she learnt a new way in 2 months but she already had a strong way that she could fortify in these 2 months too.. Chihaya focused on Shinobu’s cards and neglected her own? isn’t this beneficial for an offensive Karuta player? I don’t get it well But Harada didn’t understand much of Chihaya’s new method either and he was honest & fair, he acknowledged what Chihaya still achieved: she got a strong reaction from Shinobu. Did Shinobu’s smile mean that she wasn’t indifferent with Chihaya? that she enjoyed the “strong” opponent? Harada told Chihaya that Shinobu seems to have enjoyed her match with her like she enjoyed her match with Arata which means that Chihaya played at Arata’s level back then and that is an achievement!

27) He smiled to her to make her feel better, because she really did great by learning new strong weapons in 2 months.. And now it’s time for the 3rd game. at this point, we don’t really know if Chihaya was better? if she calmed down? While Arata seems to be still in his grandpa mode, (he looks really like an old man here, calm and silent, he wasn’t like in the 1st break And he was completely the opposite of his father who was so energetic and very satisfied with Yuu’s gift, a design with the word “TOP” inspiring more will to do one’s best to reach the top! Akira seems quite fond of Yuu (I am too), she was admitted to her school of choice & he is happy for her, the Watayas talk so familiarly about her like she is really a close relative except Arata…

28) Akira is really hard to deal with, he does whatever he wants and he is very fond of Yuu. Asking for Arata’s phone to call her & thank her, Arata rejected any try to involve him in this mess (he didn’t even react when Akira said that he will make up a lie and say that Arata was touched because of her gift, Yuu would have probably known it’s a lie because Arata wouldn’t react like that… But it’s IC if he does for Chihaya right?), he was trying his best to focus, he didn’t show any enthusiasm about Yuu; Her, his father, the food or anything of the sort couldn’t break his grandpa mode. And finally, Taichi’s message was discovered, Arata didn’t want to read anything before his game but knowing it’s about Taichi, would that be still the case?

29) Arata stopped! getting a message from Taichi who didn’t come to watch made him really stop, Taichi is really special to Arata. And turning back he found Chihaya there too, she heard what Akira said & her face showed surprise!.

30) Chihaya seemed lost in her desperation, she didn’t say a word she just turned quickly wishing to find something for her too from Taichi, she needed him, when Taichi was around he could somehow find a way to make things better and she needs it now because she is not fine, Harada’s words didn’t seem to heal her fully, she sighed when she didn’t find anything.. Arata was confused (the BACKGROUND), and when Chihaya saw him she blushed & turned her head away in embarrassment, Arata lifted her suddenly earlier and she didn’t have time to do this back then. Why? if it was because Taichi now then what about the 1st time? It wasn’t because of Taichi, it was because she looked weak in front of Arata. Chihaya has always worked hard to reach him, to become someone who can meet his passion, to be worth sitting across him in Karuta.. but she kept losing where he kept winning, he was always ahead and she could never arrive there. Chihaya was embarrassed of her weak self who showed more weakness and dependence of Taichi’s help, it’s like she can’t go anywhere without his support… Arata knew that wasn’t true. Akira asked again if Arata wanted to look at Taichi’s message and Chihaya passed him just now without a word (and Kana still looked at him sideway lol) …so many distractions, Hajime Wataya’s voice was calling him again to focus, just a bit more & he’ll be the Meijin, that’s all he was about after all right?

31) NOT RIGHT!!! That wasn’t all Arata was about, not for those who care to look at him properly! Arata wasn’t worried about being ditched, or about what Taichi’s message might contain, he rather remembered when Chihaya showed him her special bond with Taichi that day when she crushed him.. This was good reason to feel jealous or upset but that’s not who Arata was… He took Chihaya’s hand and disobeyed his grandpa’s words!

32) Arata’s face looks desperate trying to reach Chihaya to make her see the truth he believes about her, she can defeat Shinobu & he means it, he knows her strength too and he could compare, he knows when Chihaya was the strongest and how Taichi is the last piece in what Chihaya fought for and became the strongest… The blush on Arata’s face says how much he wanted to make it through to her, how many times does Arata show emotions? the calm and collected guy, what does it mean when he shows such face? “You shouldn’t go play with Shinobu chan in her arena” Harada sensei pointed out Chihaya’s mistakes but he didn’t show her a way to follow, it’s like he no longer has an advice for her, he gave her everything he got and when she strayed from his path he reminded her, but that’s all, And Arata’s advice was something else, like a Karuta expert, he knew what to tell Chihaya, even though he didn’t watch her matches or maybe he did? because he didn’t seem in a pinch in his own vs Suo, maybe he got time to look sometimes…

33) Arata really had what to say, and Chihaya listened because what she heard was useful. She wanted o go where the lonely Shinobu is but she couldn’t face everything in that world and she came out leaving a still lonely Shinobu inside, Arata tells her to bring Shinobu outside instead, to show her the wonderful things outside that can give Chihaya the same strength as Shinobu, something she might want to come out to get? Chihaya saw an illusion for the calm Queen, the plant in the frame was always used for Shinobu too and it seems (and I’m not sure) that Suetsugu uses it for Shinobu who is Shinobu and not the Queen.

34) Chihaya found Arata’s words interesting, that was some good technical support but she had to think more to find her arena Though, Arata wouldn’t let her, he gives her now the emotional support, he knew Chihaya needed Taichi (not the person, but at least sensing his presence in what he left) so he decided to give her that, anything she needs, he wouldn’t be jealous or needy or immature, he put her 1st and I admire the way he loves even more!

35) Everyone saw what Arata wanted to show, it wasn’t a secret or personal message to Chihaya, and Taichi is the captain of Mizusawa, he pushed that team, and Arata brought it to push it again. Arata persisted bc he knew very well how much Chihaya values Taichi & her team, he didn’t need to be there for 3 years to know, he is very attentive and intuitive too and looks at Chihaya really properly!.

36/37) Arata’s words were moving to all Mizusawa members, they all blushed emotionally, and Chihaya cried, maybe because she missed this or maybe because she somehow betrayed it by forgetting it and not working for her team like she said she would before…(this chapter looks so direct, no BACKGROUNDs, no shoujo effects)

38) Arata held Chihaya’s hand so gently (I wonder why sensei drew this panel, it’s totally unnecessary for anything other than highlighting Arata’s love (romantic love because I can’t imagine him do this to Yuu if she ever goes through something like this)) He mentions his loss to her as something big which is a compliment to Chihaya & an acknowledgement of her strength & level. He says it with no embarrassment because her win was well deserved (I want to see Taichi make a confession like this to Arata). And Mizusawa captain was strong because she played for her team, she used all she had for them… so Chihaya again, only has to play her own Karuta, this is the opposite of what Chihaya told Arata in his match against Harada, she told him to play like someone else.. Amusing!

39) In Shinobu’s waiting room, Shinobu was acting like a child, so carefree; she only has 1 remaining win to keep her title after all. She also seems so close with Kokoro chan now (Kokoro called her Shinobu without “chan” or anything, it implies so much familiarity right?) also Shinobu is a bad example it seems lol. Though Kokoro mentions something that might be a hint to Shinobu’s next loss (a 3rd game is tiresome). And then when Shinobu was about to get up, something was off, she felt something but she didn’t see what it was? Kokoro asked but she didn’t answer? Chihaya was shown right after that still having her tears while Arata kept explaining what he wanted to say, like he himself does, he gave her an image he knows will push her to win, she had to think that she is playing in a team tournament, her team is losing, they have two losses and 0 wins, now the remaining 3 members should all win at all costs and Chihaya will play the role of the three players, it’s like when they played in the finals of last year’s high school team tournament vs Fujisaki where both Tsukuba & Tsukue kun lost and Chihaya, Taichi & Nishida felt the responsibility to win each their game, Taichi was the one who voiced this desire 1st (ch81). (That was the game Chihaya felt upset because Arata told her that he didn’t care for teams and now, he is showing her the opposite of what she feared back then, he treasures "teams" & knows exactly how important one is for any member.)

40) And Arata impersonated Taichi for Chihaya! He should have felt jealous, he already experienced that feeling and wanted to be the one Chihaya sees, but now & for her sake, he accepted Taichi and even revived him in her memory to get as much strength from that as she needs. He wasn't there but he must have known Taichi would say that for Chihaya so he reminded her of it for her sake instead of being selfish & feeling miserable or jealous (reminds me of when Chihaya hid in the closet after she lost, the way Taichi brought up Arata’s name all miserable & helpless, he couldn’t forget about himself for a bit for Chihaya contrary to Arata even though he didn’t have anything to be confident about, Chihaya was closer to Taichi, she cared for him so much, she showed him this care in front of his eyes, he had every reason to feel threatened but he didn’t, Chihaya mattered more than that to him …)

#Chihayafuru #arata wataya #wataya arata #ayase chihaya #wataya hajime #Harada Hideo #chapter_impressions

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Klaus and Elijah Mikealsons, friend? Part 9

This part of the story is in readers Point of View.

The witches have had my body for a few days. I remember everything that had happened. Kathrine came up to me and pulled my heart out, but there was something else. She was under compulsion. I could tell, she really didn't seem like she wanted to do it because she hesitated. But That doesn't make since, nobody can compile a vampire other than a original, but why would they... Oh my goodness, Mikael. My compiled Kathrine to kill me, it all make since. I was klaus’ weakness, killing me draws Klaus out. 

The witches have been doing spells on me for about a good two week. I can tell that they have been doing spells on me, because I have yet to reach the other side. I can see everyone around. I can walk around places, but only as a spirit, or what other people call it, a ghost. back when I was alive, I used to read about spirits and stuff like that, but the only way to get rid of them is to let them go through the anchor of the other side. I was just hoping that they could help me before the anchor ends up finding me and dragging me off of earth and onto the other side. It seemed like they had everything under control. I was just walking around town waiting, while everyone else worried that they were never going to get me back to life. 

I talked to Klaus and them through a Ouija board that marcel gave to Klaus, telling him it might work to connect to me- it works. I talk to them all the time. Klaus never stops talking it seems like. Every time I  turn around he is trying to connect with me. I would always talk to him. I just want him to know I’m there for him even though I'm technically dead. 

I made my way through the mansion, getting tired of walking around the mansion. So I decided I would go out for a while. I made it to the front door and opened it when I heard someone call my name. I listened to the voice and made it to the person talking, Rebekah. “Y-O-U C-A-L-L-E-D?” Y/n spelled out on the Ouija board. “We are getting you back tonight. We need you to be at the cemetery at 12 tonight, understand?” Rebekah rambled out as she placed her hands on the board allowing Y/n to use her energy. “I U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D”  Y/n spelled out. She moved the chip to goodbye and left leaving the mansion to walk around the city while she waited for the day to go by. 

That night I made my way to the cemetery and the witches noticed my presence. The wind got a bit rougher, and began to howl. I leaned against one of the tall headstones. Waiting for everyone to be ready. The witches were talking amongst themselves, they waited for Klaus, Elijah, Kol and Marcel to show up. Marcel and I have met before, its just kind of a long story, Lets just say; we know each other like the back of our hands. Anyway, I listened as the witches grabbed the herbs that they needed and they laid them across the table. after what had felt like hours Klaus, Kol, Marcel and Elijah finally made it back to the cemetery. They each brought something of mine. Klaus brought my picture, Kol my neckless that my father had given me on my 5th birthday and marcel brought my grimoire. The witches invited them inside and they got started. 

As the ritual started the wind began to blow harder and harder. It began to howl I began to fill myself be moved from the wind blowing so hard. I had to move closer to them to hear them, but they didn't even seem to be moved by the wind. It was like the wind was only where I was at. The wind was messing up my hair moving it into my face and eyes. Whereas Rebekah's hair hadn't even moved a inch. I began to think. what if the reason why its blowing is because I’m fighting from going on into the other side. 

“Y/n, we need you to grab this knife and cut your hand, just enough to put some in this bowl.” One of the witches said. I grabbed the knife while looking at everyone who seemed amazed that the knife was moving. It confused me at first until I understood, I was dead and was moving solid objects. I cut my hand and had enough blood into the bowl. I put the knife down and waited while the wind was still blowing harder this time. The witches started to whisper some words in Latin. I understood the words. They were saying; “Rise from the dead and take only one.” Over and over again in Latin. That's when I felt my skin start to fill lighter, I looked around and everyone seemed to fade. I heard someone shout my name once. My skin then felt as if it was on fire and I started screaming. It felt like someone had poured a billon gallons of vervain onto my body, drenching me in it. Or as it I had stood in the sun without my daylight ring on. Then I screamed out, then I blacked out.  

3rd pov:

“What's going on?” Klaus asked as he saw a bright light then nothing but darkness. The candles that once lit the ground around them were now out. Nobody could see anything around them. One of the witches mumbled a word and the lights lit back up. all the ritual stuff around them were gone. The blood bag the witches had left on the table next to the bowl of herbs. Y/ns neckless, grimoire and picture was gone. “Its done, she is back. The phoenix is back.” The witch smiled. “Phoenix?” Kol asked looking at the witch confused. “We brought back your brothers girl, but she was also one of the most important witches in creation.” The witch smiled looking at the others. “Why is that?” Klaus asked looking around trying to see if Y/n was anywhere In sight. “Where is she?!” He yelled getting flustered. “I SAID WHERE IS SHE!!” Klaus yelled as he moved in front of the young witch. “She will be here soon, she is getting things settled with the ancestors.” The witch answered scared. “Why?” Elijah asked looking at the young witch.

 “it is un-natural to resurrect someone from the dead, unless done with the help of the ancestors. If they agree then its okay, but if we are using black magic well then we all would have to suffer the consequences.” The witch answered looking at the oldest Mikealson. “When should she be back?” Klaus asked looking at the witches for an answer. “anytime now, she could be here in a minute or tomorrow. No later then tomorrow though.” the oldest witch answered as she walked in-front of the youngest witch. “Thank you, sincerely thank you.” Klaus said looking at the witches. They all nodded and scattered around the cemetery. 

 About ten minutes later there was a sound that made the heads of the originals turn. The sound of a scream then silents. Klaus was the first to react and ran to it. The others ( Elijah, Kol and Marcel) followed just  behind him. He walked into a tomb and saw Y/n sitting on the floor her clothes were bloody as if someone had ripped out her heart even after they had changed her clothes. Klaus hadn't seen her face but he knew for sure it was Y/n. He walked over to her and place a hand on her back. She jumped at the contact, but once she saw it was Klaus she had calmed down and pulled him into a massive hug. “I love you, I love you, I love you so  much.” Y/n repeated as she kissed him. He kissed back full of passion to show how much he loves and cares for her. “I’m so sorry, love.” He said as a tear went down his face and he hugged her closer. “Its okay, I know who did it. and Imma kill that dopplebitch.” Y/n said making the others chuckle. “Marcel! Long time no see.” Y/n said as she saw marcel behind klaus. “Kol and Elijah too, Thank you guys for helping. I know you guys helped out too.” Y/n said making them smile. “I missed my mischievous partner.” Marcel said making Klaus growl at him. Klaus hybrid face showed some and Marcel backed off. “My apologies.” Elijah said to Y/n making her lean her head to the side confused. “Why are you apologizing? You had nothing to do with this. Mikael did.” Y/n said confused. “I know but we could have done something before he got to you.” Elijah said with a frown. “Don't pout Elijah, it gives you wrinkles.” Rebekah said as she walked up to them. “Bekah.” Y/n said as she vamp sped to Rebekah crushing her into a skintight hug. “I missed you so much, (Your nickname).” Rebekah said as she hugged Y/n in a tighter hug. 

“What happed with the ancestors?” Kol asked as he looked at Y/n. “They told me I was something different. I was more than just a witch, and vampire. Turns out I have more supernatural in me then we thought.” Y/n started looking at them. “What then?” Kol asked looking at Y/n confused. “I am a vampire, doppelgänger, werewolf, Witch, and phoenix.” Y/n said making them all shocked. “So that makes you super powerful.” Rebekah said with a laugh. Y/n nodded with a chuckle. “So what does a phoenix do?” Kol asked making Y/n chuckle. “I cant die, a phoenix dies then rises from the ashes, which is why they were able to raise me from the dead.” Y/n partly explained. What she didn't say was that she no longer had a heart because when Kathrine ripped it out, she died but when she came back it didn't. She is living without one. “why cant I hear your heart?” Marcel asked after a quiet silents. “Because I no longer have a heart. Kathrine ripped mine out, but once I came back for some odd reason it didn't come back.” Y/n said with a shrug. “well lets go back to the house, I think we need to celebrate.” Klaus said giving Y/n a wink. She nodded and they were off. “Do you think we are ever going to have a niece or nephew?” Rebekah asked Kol.  “ After tonight maybe.” Kol said earning a laugh from his sister. 

#tvd #to #the vampire diaries #The originals #Klaus mikealson #Kol mikealson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah #witches #marcel gerard #neworleans #damon salvatore #Stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #mystic falls #vampires #doppleganger #angst #fluff #drama #crying #happy #not my gifs #Y/n #x reader #supernatural #The fluff bro #Brothers #sisters #Love

[peachywise]

basement confessions

stanley uris x reader

-- one-shot

-- synopsis: You hated Stanley Uris. Stanley Uris hated you. Why the Losers’ Club thought a sleepover and a game of truth or dare would fix that was beyond you, but anything’s worth a try. (aged up au: 18) 

-- notes: requested by @katherinewhat ; “heyheyhey i would like to see a imagine/fanfic whatever u want to call it, where (y/n) and stan hate each other ever since they were kids. But then the losers club is just sick of them fighting so they have a sleepover and play truth or dare or something; then lock them in bill’s basement and are forced to make out *cough* sorry make up ;) anddd (y/n) is terrified of bill’s basement so stan try’s to calm her down??” okay so I love this fic, i hope you do too!! as always, let me know if you want an add to the tag list. It’s a little on the long side (3k+) so i put a keep reading tab on it. (this also has a splash of reddie thrown in there)

click here to read the unofficially official part two: ailing confessions 

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Stan asked you, as he tried to hide the small ghost of a smirk that slowly inched its way on to his face.

And at that moment, you knew you were fucked.

“Jesus Christ,” Bev muttered under her breath in reply before you could voice your own irritation. Jesus Christ, indeed. Currently, all the Losers were sat around in a circle in the living room of Bill’s house playing this stupid game Richie had suggested. Truth or dare. Though you fought against it, asking in a sarcastic tone, “what are we, twelve?” you were easily ignored. It wasn’t that you were scared to play the game or do the dares. You just knew one person in particular would try to make you do the most miserable, horrible stuff he could think of. That person was Stanley Uris.

It was the first sleepover that you and Stan had attended together, and you hoped it would be the last. You had known the boy for years, and he’d always been just as high-strung as his coiled, golden locks. You’d never once gotten along with him. It mostly started in fourth grade when he chastised your organizational skills. In an attempt to prove him wrong, you ended up running against him for class president. It was the most intense election to date, and even your teacher was stunned into a quiet submission at some of your well-thought out, yet fierce rebuttals. In the end, Richie won by a landslide, but the animosity had already blossomed between you two. Afterwards he would go out of his way to put you down and correct you at any chance, and in return, you would draw dead birds and leave them in his locker to torment him. Looking back on it now, you agreed that maybe that course of action was a little mean and far too morbid, but you couldn’t feel remorse for it when he hated you just as much.

It was like he wanted to argue with you on everything! Anything you ever suggested the Losers’ Club did, he would be right there telling you it was a stupid, reckless idea and that you should just be ignored. Ben and Mike often tried to mediate your fights, boiling it down to the fact you two where allegedly similar (ha!), but nothing could ever mend the poisonous hostility that dripped between you two.

You had no idea why they thought a sleepover would be the cure.

That’s what this night was about, after all. You weren’t stupid. Well. You were stupid enough that you hadn’t expected this to be the plan when you showed up tonight, but c’est la vie. The only solace you took in your embarrassment of having fell for the trap was the fact Stan fell for it too. Sucker. You’d both have to suffer in each other’s company.

Turning your head in emphasized boredom towards Stan, you rolled your eyes. Don’t let him see the panic that washed through you and made your finger tips numb. You could handle whatever came your way. “Let’s go with truth, bird fucker,” you yawned, meeting his gaze in a look you hoped met his challenge. You swore you saw his eye twitch, most likely in response to the nickname you had given him. He’d never liked it. You weren’t exactly sure why.

“Fine,” he quipped, leaning back slightly as if all too relaxed. You could see the fake contemplation on his face. He already knew what he was going to ask you, he just wanted to drag it on for a little while. What a sadist.

“Do you guys remember in ninth grade when someone was leaving love letters in Bill’s locker?” Ah, fuck. Slowly, everyone in the circle gave a perplexed nod. “I think I remember Y/N telling me they know who did it.” You were going to ring Stan’s scrawny, little neck and feed him to the freaking pigeons.  Wait, scratch that. You would feed him to the fish. He liked pigeons too much to even deserve that. “Care to share?”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was a smart tactic. He knew you were the one who had left the love letters. He wasn’t giving you the opportunity to lie about the truth he had giving you. What a bitch. The day he caught you trying to cram one through the little metal slots was the day you lost about 5 years of your life. You’d always wondered why he never said anything. Now you knew. He had waited for the right opportunity.

Taking in a deep, calming breath, you flopped back so you were laying down on the floor. No way in hell did you want to see their reactions. “It was me,” you gritted out, folding your arms over your chest like a pouty child. “The crush barley lasted three months, okay? It was a moment of weakness,” you explained, before Bill stuttered out a slightly offended, “hey.” Sitting back up, you faced him and gave him an apologetic smile. “Let me rephrase that. Not weakness. You were being especially nice to me during a time when someone,” you muttered, giving a pointed look towards Stan, “was making it his life’s purpose to hate me.” Stan’s face dropped the slightest bit, before he covered it up and put back on his face of indifference. Weird.

“It’s fine,” Bill smiled a little awkwardly, flashing a look towards Stan who had now averted his gaze up towards the ceiling. Richie, however, gave you an accusatory glare. “You told everyone you thought it was me doing that!” He whined, before you cleared your throat and loudly asked, “Hey Stan! Truth or dare?” You had to cover your tracks somehow.

“Dare.” He stated definitively, without so much of a waver in his tone. Giving a little smirk, you simply said, “I dare you to let Eddie spit in your mouth.”

Havoc ensued.

“WHAT?” Eddie shot out, immediately standing up and letting the blanket drop that had previously been draped over his and Richie’s lap. Crossing his arms out in front of him, he shook his head erratically. “No. No way. Do you know how unsanitary that is? I am not spitting in his mouth!” Richie gave a little snicker as he casually added, “I’ll spit in his mouth.” Eddie looked down at him utterly horrified. In reality, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Eddie had swapped spit with Richie before, even if the two wouldn’t admit it to the rest of you. Those idiots didn’t know how obvious they really were.

Stan shook his head. “Nobody is spitting in my mouth,” he groaned, as if he couldn’t believe he actually had to say that sentence. Big baby. “A dare is a dare, Stan,” Bev conceded, the small tell-tale crinkles at the corner of her eyes appearing as a sign of her amusement.  Ben just murmured a small, “I don’t want to watch.”

Standing up, you snapped your fingers in Richie’s direction before pointing at Stan. “The sooner you do it, the sooner it’ll be over,” you huffed out, planting your hands on your hips. Stan stood up in response and stalked over to you, glaring you down in an attempt to thwart your persistence as he repeated a simple, “no.” Pay back’s a real bitch, Uris.

Preparing to fight Stan until inevitably someone’s spit ended up sliding down his throat, Mike’s voice rung out before you could even get a single word out. “How about as consolation we have to come up with a group dare? We come up with something else, and you have to do whatever it is no matter what?” What a buzz kill. Stanley didn’t even take a second to process what was offered to him before he said, “I’ll do whatever else.”

“Billy? Can you read me a story?” came a small voice from the corridor of the hallway, breaking the pervious tension that had radiated between you and Stan. Bill stood up before walking over to his little brother, Georgie. “Yeah, of c-course,” he smiled down at him, before turning to look back at the rest of you. “Pick something good, okay?” he added brightly, before leading Georgie back down the hallway, arm slung around him.

By the time you looked back over, Mike, Ben, Eddie, Bev, and Richie were already crowded around each other, mumbling ideas about what new dare they were going to give Stan. How come you weren’t allowed to be apart of the deliberation? Way to rip off your turn.

Giving one last glaring side eye to Stan, you plopped yourself on the couch, preparing to enjoy the oncoming show, albeit how boring it was bound to be without the involvement of spit.  

“Okay,” Mike grinned, as the rest of your friends turned back to face you two. “Both of you have to be locked in the basement and makeup—“ Richie butted in saying “make out,” before Beverly clapped her hand over his mouth. Mike gave him a knowing look, before continuing with, “like I was saying, you’ll be locked down there until you guys work out whatever deep seeded issues you have with one other.” Ben added in a quick and chirpy, “even if it takes all night.”

Well, that just wasn’t going to work.

“This is his dare, not mine!” you groaned, “why am I being wrapped up into this? I never agreed.” Eddie shot you a disbelieving look, shooting back with, “but you were fine having me spit in his mouth?” Touché. But you still weren’t taking a single step into that basement. No. You had refused to go down into Bill’s basement for years. Not since the last time. You weren’t going to start now on some silly little dare.

“Deal,” Stan stated simply, as he turned and began walking down the hallway. What the fuck?

Racing to catch up to him, you shot your arm out to grip his forearm. “Hey, no deal! I’m not going into the basement. Not with you, not with anyone,” you grated out, trying the squash the panicked feeling that had begun to onset. You were terrified of being down there. You couldn’t go.

Stan turned to stare at you for a second, his face shifting into something unreadable as he took a tiny step towards you. Getting more desperate by the second, you whispered a small, “please,” quiet enough for only him to hear it. The last thing you wanted to do was beg him for anything, but just the thought of stepping foot down in that cement hell hole was causing you to be irrational.

“It’ll be fun!” Richie’s voice called from behind you, as you felt hands go to your hips and lift you in the air, as you were tossed right on over the trashmouth’s shoulder. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if you hated him more or Stan. “Put me down, you shit head!” you bit out, hitting his back as he effortlessly used his free hand to swing the basement door open before beginning his descent down the steps. Stan followed slowly after him, giving a hesitant look all the way down while you still struggled and yelled out a slew of curse words aimed at no one in particular. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Stan stated hesitantly, as he seemed to be the only one noticing the frightened look in your eyes. If your rational brain had been functioning at the moment, you would have yelled at him for the pity. Right now you really didn’t care all that much.

As Richie set you down on the ground, you quickly tried following his steps back up the rickety wooden stairs, but you didn’t make it. The door was shut unceremoniously in your face. “This is for the greater good!” his annoying voice called from behind the door, before you heard all your friend’s steps lead back down the hall. Banging on the door frantically, you cried for them to let you out. It was too dark. You couldn’t breath. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t focus, you—

“Are you okay?”

Resting your head on the wooden door, you tried to take calm, reassuring breaths. “Just leave me alone, Stanley,” you murmured, already embarrassed enough at your fear. You don’t think you’d ever been alone with Stan in your life. Figures it be during a time like this.

“Look at me,” Stan stated, a certain edge to his voice. Taking in another sharp breath to calm the shaking of your hands, you turned around on the small step to face him. You immediately regretted that decision. Suddenly a flashback of the incident that made you hate this basement so much flooded though your thoughts and your bones, and you weren’t so sure you could stand anymore. Covering your face with your hands, you bent down a little as if to contain yourself. “I can’t be in here,” you whispered, as two arms wrapped around your shoulders. You flinched, but he didn’t let go.

“Let’s go down the stairs,” he calmly stated, as he slung one arm slightly awkwardly around your tense shoulders as you began the walk down. As soon as your bare feet hit cold pavement, a shaky sigh of relief escaped you. Turned out you felt better on ground level than on the stairs. Duly noted.

Sitting down on the floor as he let go, you brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. At this very moment you didn’t give half a shit of what Stan thought. You just needed to calm down and get out of here. If that meant you had to play nice with golden boy, you would do it.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he questioned a little cautiously, as you breathed out a small, “not really,” bending your head down to rest on your knees.  It was a stupid story. The only one who knew was Bill, and you had sworn him to secrecy right after it happened. Mostly because you didn’t want Stan finding out and making fun of you for it.

It was quiet for a beat, before you finally heard him say, “good, because I don’t want to hear it.” Irritation quickly shot through your veins, replacing the previous numbness brought upon from your little panicked moment. Lifting up your head, you yelled, “you don’t have to be such a jackass!” Then you noticed the small smile plastered on his face. “Do you feel better now?” he asked knowingly, and you grumbled a short, “shut up,” in return before putting your head back down on your knees.

It was quiet again. A little longer this time, and the silence made you feel cold all over. You felt tears start to prickle at the side of your eyes as you remembered laying down here in the cold that one night, all alone and in so much fucking pain that—

“I’m terrified of mascots.”

“What?” you blurted out, your head snapping up as if a puppeteer had lifted the string. “Mascots. You know, the people in the big, often furry suits,” he explained a little more thoroughly.

Well this was new information.

“When I was seven years old, I went to a ball game with my dad,” he continued, much to your surprise. You focused on his smooth voice. “There was this tiger mascot, and for some reason he kept following me around. It was annoying, but I managed to hide. When he found me, my dad thought it was amusing and shoved him towards me as some sort of joke. The mascot fell and knocked me down, and his head just fell off as I was crushed below him. The guy was clearly drunk and man, he smelled so gross,” Stan groaned, giving a bit of a shiver at the memory. “Ever since then, I run the other way as soon as I see them. They terrify me.”

You stared at him for a second, before a small snort escaped you. Stan’s face quickly dropped.

"It’s not funny,” he grumbled, as he began to pace away from you. Standing up a little shakily still, you gave a bit of a breathless laugh. “No, no I’m sorry, it’s not.” You agreed, trying your hardest to keep a straight face. The second his hesitant eyes met yours again, however, you busted into uncontainable laughter.

“If you tell anyone, no one’s going to believe you!” He shot out, as you wiped the small tears from the corner of your eye. Wow. Just the image of Stan running away from some guy in a giant bird costume had you in a fit of giggles once more.

“I was just trying to make you feel better,” he retorted once more, as you took deep breaths to stop the laughter in its tracks. He was right. You were being kind of rude. “I’m sorry, okay? Look. No more laughing,” you pleaded, reaching out to grab his wrist while giving him the best serious look you could. You knew a small smile still lit your face, but you hoped he’d take the effort to not laugh as a white flag.

“Fine,” he mumbled, as he sat down on the floor once more, you sitting directly across from him. You began to feel a little awkward at his confession. He trusted you with that, so what harm could come from you telling him why you were so afraid of the basement? Maybe bringing it up would make you feel a little better.

“Do you remember when I was ten and I broke my leg?” Stan nodded. “Well,” you breathed, as you looked down towards your fiddling hands, “that weekend I had slept over at Bill’s because my parents were out of town. I got up in the middle of the night to get some water, and I,” stopping briefly to calm the small race in your heart, you continued quickly. “I thought I heard a noise in the basement. I assumed it was Bill trying to freak me out, I never did like basements very much, but as soon as I got to the second step, I tripped and fell down the stairs,” you whispered, a phantom pain shooting through your right leg at the memory.  “That’s not so bad in itself, but no one heard me. I was left down here all night until Bill’s dad found me in the morning, crying in pain, and—“

The slightest touch against your cheek jarred you from your thoughts as Stan swiped a small tear from your face with his thumb. His eyes were intense on yours as he softly said, “you’re not alone down here, Y/N,” his hand resting lightly on your cheek, and you were unsure if he knew what he was doing.  

Shock went through you at the tender moment, and before you knew it, you were clearing your throat and leaning away from his touch, uncertain of what it all meant. “Yeah, well, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, it’s not like we enjoy each other’s company all that much.”

That seemingly broke the mood.

“Why do you insist on hating me?” he bit out, his earlier soft stare turning hard and bitter. You scoffed out loud, standing up instinctively to tower over him. “Why do I hate you?” you questioned disbelieving, “why do you hate me?” Stan soon stood up after you, using his own taller stature to one-up you as he loomed over you instead. “God, it’s like you think I’m stupid or something! You’re such a control freak, you know that?” you yelled.

“I’m the control freak?” he reiterated, in a tone much more dubious than yours. There he goes! Trying to one-up you again! “Take a look in the mirror! You fight me on everything, and what does it get us? Useless arguments? You’re the one who always wants to be in control, you’re the one who always tests my patience!” he gritted out, poking you in the chest. Oh, hell no. Taking another step forward so you were as close as you could get to his face, you ground out, “if you touch me one more time Stanley Uris, I swear I will—“

“You’ll do what?” he shot back before you finished, his eyes becoming slightly hooded, your chests nearly meeting as your irritated, heady breaths became almost synchronized.

And then he kissed you.

Actually, he more or less crashed into you, his hands roughly gripping each side of your face as you met him with just as much exhilaration and passion. At first your hands rested on his chest, but one soon slinked up to his neck, as the other roughly gripped his hair. A small moan escaped him as you did, and you returned it with your own.

Moving his hands slowly, and painfully exhilarating down your body, he gripped your sides before you hopped up and easily wrapped your legs around his waist, unable to get enough. The kiss was a little messy, but the need was too great. It was like it had been built up over years, and maybe it had. Now that you had gotten a taste of just how sweet he could be, you couldn’t get enough. You weren’t sure he could get enough either.

Soon enough you were pressed rather urgently against a wall, as Stan finally moved his kiss from your lips, down to your jaw, and to your neck where he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Breathing his name rather heavily in return, you unravelled your hand from his hair to bring his lips back up to your again, but a new voice in the enclosed space had you both stopping like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“I guess you’re n-not so scared of the b-basement anymore,” Bill called with a small snicker in his tone from the top of the steps.

Bending your head down to rest on Stan’s shoulder, your cheeks flared a rather familiar heat that also passed through your whole body. The boy just simply chuckled into your hair and called back, “we’re all made up.”

Now, you weren’t positively sure about that, but what you were sure of?  This wasn’t going to be the last sleepover you had with Stanley Uris if you had anything to do with it.

-- general tags: @multi-parker @stan-the-losers-club-man @this-cute-shit-xo @hummingstan @babylovereddie @ubertrashmouth @derrysdenbrough @socially-awkward-nerd

#stan uris #stanley uris #stan uris imagine #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris imagine #stan uris x reader #it #it 2017 #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it imagine #it fandom #stanley uris fanfic #stanley x reader #stanley uris fanfiction #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #richie tozier #finn wolfhard #bill denbrough #jaeden lieberher #beverly marsh #bev marsh #sophia lillis #mike hanlon #chosen jacobs #eddie kaspbrak #jack dylan grazer #ben hanscom #jeremy ray taylor

[mollyraesly]

Time with Wolves -- Chapter Twelve

They didn’t have sex that night in the Glass Gardens. Part of her wanted to, particularly when his mouth was on her collar bone and his fingers were curling inside her. But she wasn’t ready, and he said that was fine and that they had plenty of time to do other things—which were quite pleasurable in themselves.

Preoccupied as they were, they didn’t have sex until several months later in December, after Edric had met both her parents, come to dinner nine times, learned several new tricks about moving on wheels from Bran, lost seventeen rounds of rock, paper, scissor to Rickon, met Robb once, and had accompanied Sansa to three of Arya’s fencing tournaments. When they did have sex, it was in his bed while his mother and stepfather were away on a trip. She could tell he’d spent extra time making the bed and had cleaned up his room. Sansa had asked her mother weeks before if she could go to the gynecologist and start a birth control prescription; it had been a difficult conversation for them both. But Edric has used a condom anyway.  He’d had it planned, just as she had. Sansa liked that. And she liked how earnestly he’d whispered in her ear how stunning she was when he entered her the first time and kissed her hard to distract her from the pain. She liked that he waited patiently until she told him to move and that he held her hand as he did so. She liked that he did his best to go slow, and that he’d gotten her off before they began. She liked that when they were done, he held her close and asked if she was okay. She liked that when they had sex the next few times, he watched her closely to see what she responded to the most and made sure to keep doing those things. She liked that he tried to make sure she came first and was honest about his preferences, just as he encouraged her to be the same. She liked that they didn’t just have sex every time they were together and that he still came to eat dinner with her family. She liked that he didn’t take it for granted that they would just go to junior prom together but asked her formally and then brought her flowers, wore a tux, and told her how stunning she was in her dress. She liked that when she told him he made it herself, he asked if he could look at it letter to sketch a design. She liked that he presented that sketch to her in a box with a bow on a random Tuesday, but remembered it was the day they first started working at the restaurant together. She liked that he continued to give her his drawings and would still surprise her sometimes with dessert. She liked that when his mom got transferred back to King’s Landing their senior year, they mutually decided to break up, as she was headed off to college and he wanted to find work in a mechanic shop and take art classes. She liked that the last time they had sex, he told her how much she’d meant to him and how he’d always remember her fondly—that he valued what they had together. She liked that she could say the same. And when he left Winterfell, she liked that she cried, not because she loved him, but because she wished she had. She’d liked a lot of things about Edric Storm, but she was never sure that like had ever fully become love. She’d never known romantic love before, so she wasn’t quite sure. But she was nonetheless grateful that his leaving didn’t break her. That fact alone maybe was enough for love. When she thought of him, she only wished him well and found herself smiling at the remembrance of his lips. She finished her senior year by joining the debate team and learned she had a surprising knack for politics. She volunteered more at the wolf reservation. She took Arya, a sophomore, as her date to senior prom, and they took the best photos she had ever seen. Slowly, she let her hair transition from blonde to strawberry back to red. She had to ditch the red lipstick, but it was worth it to look in the mirror and see an older but familiar image of Sansa Stark again. The summer before leaving for college, she spent more time with Robb than she had in a couple of years. She found she missed him, and it was nice to benefit from his experience as she was about to leave home for the first time. Robb had stayed somewhat close, attending Winterfell University. Part of her was surprised that Robb didn’t come home more—perhaps to get their mom to do his laundry every other week. But the more time she spent with Robb, the more she realized how much more mature he’d gotten. He worked more, went out with girls less, helped their father. He was even growing a beard. She liked talking to Robb again. She missed him when she left for school. It’d been a very teary goodbye when her parents left after helping her get settled in the new dorms. Despite her poor skills in math, she’d been accepted to Citadel University, very old and very prestigious, as well as King’s Landing U, both of which she’d turned down. She also, after many pro/con lists, had turned down Winterfell University and opted to go to Twins College in Riverrun, where her mom had gone. It was far enough away that she felt that she was experiencing something new but close enough that she could still come home, even if just for the weekend. At least, that’s what she told Ghost when she visited him last. She was paired up to room with a girl named Meera Reed. Meera wanted to study engineering; she had incredible drive, fierce loyalty, and fantastic curly hair. She reminded Sansa of both Arya and Bran, whom she missed dearly. Meera was outdoorsy, and she loved to hear Sansa’s stories about Ghost, whose picture she had framed and on her dresser along with other family photos. Sansa, in turn, pestered Meera for tales of her adventures with her little brother Jojen, whose antics made her laugh and helped dull the ache of not being with her own siblings. Sansa also, though surprisingly, befriended her dorm’s RA Brienne Tarth. Brienne was a junior and played on the rugby team. She was quite unlike Sansa in many ways: physically tough where Sansa was soft, blunt where Sansa was politely euphemistic, and unapologetic where Sansa was people-pleasing. But they were both quite tall for women, and that was enough to bond them in the beginning. Sansa liked spending time with Brienne—and her friend Podrick, who always blushed when she was around. She had nice friends and chosen interesting first courses on civil wars, history, writing, and gender studies—so grateful to be done with math. The workload was more than she experienced before, but she bought a lot of flashcards and made it through her midterms—without even needing to really on coffee. She’d always preferred lemon tea. Coming home for Thanksgiving was a blessing and a curse, as she wanted nothing more than to spend time with her family and yet knew she couldn’t lose focus or she’d never finish her final papers on time. Somehow, she managed both, and was feeling quite proud in mid-December as she packed up to go home for the winter break. She’d done it—lived on her own for months—and she’d done well. She only had the one exam left—which she knew she’d pass with flying colors—and plans to have a celebratory dinner with Meera. She was putting on her earrings when her phone rang. “Arya!” she sang into the phone. “I’ve only got a few minutes before Meera and I are going to gorge on the last of our dining points for the semester. I hope they have those little cakes I like. I plan to eat forty of them. But I’m so glad you called! I miss you! I can’t wait to come home. Just three more days! How are you? Did Gendry finally take his head out of his—” “Sansa—“ Arya heaved a sigh. “Hey? What’s wrong?” “I’m not sure I should tell you.” “Is it about my Christmas present?” Sansa asked with a laugh as she grabbed a sweater from her closet and put it on. “Cause you never can keep that secret. Remember when—“ “No—it’s not—it’s—it’s about Jon.” “Oh.” Sansa sat down on her bed. “I know it’s against the rules—to bring him up—when you didn’t ask.” “Yes,” Sansa agreed; her eyes flirted to her picture of Ghost, but her eyes felt too out of focus to see him clearly. “Sansa—you there?” “Yes, sorry. I’m here.” “I wasn’t sure I should say anything—but I wasn’t sure—you still have exams—but I thought maybe you’d like to know—I—“ “Arya,” Sansa interrupted, doing her best to keep her voice calm. “What is it that I should know about Jon?” Arya didn’t answer right away, and Sansa repeated her name insistently. “Jon’s been wounded. I don’t know how bad, but his mom says he’s in intensive care and unresponsive, so...” Sansa didn’t need her to say the rest. She was clutching the phone so tightly that her fingers hurt. She switched hands. “Does his mom know anything else?” “No—not that I know of at least.” Sansa nodded. “Will you tell me—if—when she does?” She could hear Arya crying on the other line. “Of course. As soon as I hear something.” “That’s—that’s good. How—how long has he been in the hospital?” “Three days.” “Three—gods—wow—okay. Do—do you know what happened?” “He was stabbed.” “Stabbed?” “Multiple times.” “Where?” Sansa croaked. “In the chest—near the heart.” The news made Sansa feel as though she’d been dealt the same wounds. She felt tears fall down her cheeks as she listened to Arya’s hoarse explanation. When she finished, Sansa felt like she couldn’t breathe. Meera, back from the bathroom down the hall, came into the room then. “Hey, wolf girl, you ready?” Sansa wiped away her tears. “Arya, I have to go,” she stammered. “Will—will you call me? As soon as you hear more? I mean, the minute you hear—I want—I need to know.” “Of course.” “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Sansa didn’t eat anything with Meera; she barely spoke for the next three days. She didn’t study, didn’t pack, didn’t brush her hair. Meera tried to get her to go outside, but Sansa refused. She just stayed in her room and waited by her phone. Until finally, it rang. “Hello?” she answered raggedly. “Sansa.” “Arya?” “Sansa, he’s awake. He’s gonna be okay.”

#jonsa #jonsa fic #jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fan fiction #jonsa fan fic #mollyraesly

[havokangel]

Shape Of You - Part 1/2

Warren Worthington III x Reader

written by @kurtwxgners & @alexsunmners

a/n; aka, the artist au no one asked for.

so first and foremost, this has been in the works since NOVEMBER. NOVEMBER. alex and i have been busting our ass for MONTHS over this fic and we hope we did it justice. sorry for keeping you all waiting, but we hope it was worth it! enjoy guys!

also on ao3

part two here

tags; @mvximoff @madelyne-pryor  @rax-writes @paperclipmac @v-writings @dicckgrayson @emmcfrxst @iamplaguedwithideas @hastyscribe @softwarren @jubillee @mutantlaura @idontknowwhattocallthisposts @theatricalenthusiast @themidnight-train @thequeen-ofnerds @xxencagedxx 

artist!warren playlist

ILYSB // LANY

Sex On Fire // Kings of Leon

The Less I Know The Better // Tame Impala

Comfortable // Lauv

Holy Ghost // BORNS

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? // Arctic Monkeys

Never Be Like You // Flume 

Sex // The 1975

Post Break Up Sex // The Vaccines

Idfc // Blackbear

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby // Cigarettes After Sex

Trouble // Cage The Elephant

She Moves In Her Own Way // The Kooks

R U Mine? // Arctic Monkeys

I Walk The Line // Halsey

Boys Don’t Cry // The Cure

Summary; You know Warren better than you think anyone else does; you know about his art and his habits and a bit about his dad, and you know that he’s reckless and self-destructive and that he doesn’t do relationships.

 Which wasn’t a problem until now.

There’s no denying that Warren Worthington III is incredibly attractive. Girls and boys alike always seem so naturally drawn to him, and you wonder if the universe had specifically put him in your life to make you angry. Warren may be the Adonis of your university, but there’s always a catch with boys like him: his ego, which may as well be bigger than the sun, and you’re almost positive that he knows he’s got everyone in your art class wrapped around his finger. You’re first hand witness to that, for an hour and a half three times a week. Everytime he cuddles up to some wide-eyed girl and suggests that they swing by his place that evening, you roll your eyes so hard you’re almost surprised they don’t fall out of your head. He tells them he’d love to have them model for him sometime. You’re pretty sure that’s what he tells every girl he wants to fuck. It makes you cringe. So, that’s why you usually kept to yourself in that class - that is, until Warren actually acknowledges your presence.

The project you’re working on, is simple, so simple that even someone who was just taking this as an elective, like yourself, could pass with flying colors without giving it too much attention. It’s still life week and you’re meant to be drawing the fruit bowl in the middle of the room, which feels like a cliche or something, but who are you to argue with the teacher’s assignment. You had put your headphones in a while ago, before Warren had started making his usual rounds of the class, to project his ‘artistic advice’ onto other students who didn't know any better, who were probably only taking his incredibly condescending advice at all in the hopes of gaining his affection. Or an invitation home. You’re pretty sure Warren has fucked half the class already and for reasons that escape you, the rest of the class hasn’t figured out that they should probably just steer clear of him. So when you see out of the corner of your eye a stool being pulled up next to you, a sigh leaves your mouth. You pull out a headphone, and look at Warren, who’s oh-so-carefully examining your sketch through his probably fake and definitely expensive glasses.

“Y’know, if I were you, I’d shade in this area,” He suggests, finger pointing to the bottom of the bowl. “It’d really make the drawing more realistic, and it’d give it more depth.”

“Excuse me?” You say with offense, looking down at your paper.

“M’just saying, it’d look good if you shaded there.” Warren repeats, leaning his chin against his hand.

“Look, just because you’re some ‘up and coming’ artist, doesn’t mean I’m going to do what you thinks good,” You tell him, using air quotes around your words to make your point. “Besides, the prof is always telling us to develop our own art style.”

“Ouch!” Warren petulantly says, clutching his chest. “Didn’t expect you to be so sassy, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You say with a roll of your eyes, ripping your completed sketch out of your book. You get up to go turn in your sketch, Warren quickly following behind you.

“Look, we haven’t really talked before, I was just trying to break the ice!” He says petulantly, though the effect is ruined by the smirk tugging at his lips. You swear that he was born with that permanent smirk on his face. The teacher points to the pile of sketches, and you place it there. “You’re always so observant, and I just want to get to know you.”

“Way to break the ice,” you mutter under your breath, moving back to the table where your things are.

“Why don’t you swing by my place tonight, I’m having a little get together with some other art majors,” Warren suggests casually, as you gather your things. “I’ve got lots of good wine, and you could check out my portfolio.”

“Sorry Warren, I’d love to be around people I have nothing in common with, but I've got plans tonight,” you retort, hitching your bag a little higher on your shoulder.

“And that's what? Netflix bingeing until three a.m.?” Warren calls after you, watching as you make your way towards the door. You just turn and give him a blatantly fake smile, flipping him off to the amusement of the students watching. He just sighs with a smile, his hands moving to his hips. He'd always see you during class, and he always wondered how a girl like you was always so quiet, and observant during class. And to be quite honest, he was getting pretty tired of the usual girls he flirted with during this class; so he took an interest in you, initiating the conversation with you today. You looked like you could be fun, and the way you had snapped back at him only confirmed the idea.So as the next few weeks unfold, he’s not too sure why his usual lines and tricks aren't working on you, like they had on everyone else. And you're pretty sure you might wring his neck, if he asks you to come to one more of his art shows; or to his loft for “modeling purposes.”

Warren finds out that when you get angry or annoyed, you look undeniably attractive. He also finds it attractive, that when you think no one is paying attention, how you'll chew at the tip of your pencil out of concentration. And, when you're in the dark room together, you look otherworldly under the red lights. He hasn't felt the need to pursue someone like this in a long time. No matter how much you two may argue and banter, there's no denying the underlying chemistry between the two of you. Between hook-ups and Uni, he’d kind of forgotten what it was like to “chase” someone he’s taken an interest in, so when a partner project comes along that requires a human canvas, he’s quick to sign your name along with his.

“I'm sorry, but when did I agree to be your partner?” You question him, seeing your name scrawled out in his handwriting.

“Oh c’mon princess! I'm a good partner,” he winks, as you roll your eyes at him. “We could get a head start on it tonight. I got plenty of ideas, and not to mention, some good wine.” You can't deny that he's the best artist in the whole damn class, and you've heard from others that he actually does have the best wine, and he's a pretty decent host. You're positive he’s also got way better art supplies, which would no doubt increase your chances of getting a nice grade.

“Alright, alright,” You give in, rummaging around your bag for a spare pen and paper. As you scrawl your number on the paper, Warren’s smirk on his face grows. “Text me your address, Worthington. I'll see you at 7.”

And like you had planned earlier, that’s how you end up in Warren’s loft; watching him pour you a glass of wine. (You’d be lying if you said you weren't at least a little nervous. Worthington may be an asshole, but he's also definitely easy on the eyes.) Kings of Leon is playing softly in the background, as he hands you the glass of wine.

“Well, I’d never thought I’d see the day,” Warren says, leaning back against the counter, as he takes a sip of his wine.

“And what’s that?” You ask, even though you're pretty much certain of what he's going to say.

“The day I got you to come to my place. It's a miracle, it really is, princess!”

“God, you're an asshole,” you reply with a laugh, bringing your glass to your lips.

“Yeah, but you like it. Don't lie to yourself,” he teases, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, you're right! I love when you tell me everything I draw is fucked up,” you quip, as he shakes his head with a grin.

“In the art world, that's called constructive criticism,” he says defensively, as you just laugh.

“Well in the real world, that's called being a douchebag.”

Warren grabs the bottle of wine, and circles around the island, cueing you to follow him to the living room. He plops down on the couch, patting the space next to him. You sit, crossing your legs as he rests his arm on the back of the couch. “Alright, down to official Uni business!” He exclaims, reaching to grab his notebook off the coffee table. “I have some experience with using human canvases, so I've got a few ideas.”

“Human canvases, huh?” You comment, swirling your glass. “That human canvas wouldn't happen to go by Emma, from our class, would it? I've heard some pretty good stories from her about you, y’know.”

“Ha, ha,” Warren says, rolling your eyes petulantly and making you chuckle. “Anyways, as I was saying, you know Tumblr, right?” You nod. Of fucking course, he’d have a Tumblr. “Well, you've seen those pictures of paintings on people's backs and shit, right?” Warren asks, his brow raising. It takes you a second to think of what he's describing before it clicks in your brain.

“Oh, Worthington, you've gotta get a couple drinks in me before I do that.”

“I knew you'd say that.” Warren laughs lightly, moving to grab the bottle of wine. “It's a good thing I got this, and more options.”

As the wine begins to flow, so do the ideas. None of them really sound that appealing or creative, and you're pretty sure you're closing in on a decision. As Warren, it’s the alcohol that’s affecting your decision making, but you’re almost certain that it’s the way Warren is so effortlessly making you feel at ease; like he’s taking down the front to an act he puts on all day.

“Fuck it,” you say, interrupting Warren’s list of ideas. “Let’s do the back painting.”

He actually looks slightly taken aback for a moment, his plump lips parting for a moment as if he’s going to say something; but closing them, lips curling into a small smile. He closes his notebook and stands, your gaze following him. “Alright princess,” He says, offering his hand to you. “Let’s get started.”

Warren rearranges his furniture in the living room, pushing the couches out of the way so he would be able to paint. He rummages through his closet for some old sheets, spreading the already paint stained sheets on the floor. You hurriedly finish your wine and pour yourself another large glass as you watch Warren set things up because it’s hitting you that you’re going to be pretty much half naked on his floor, with his hands all over you. You watch him as he sets up a couple lights around the area, arranging them to his liking. He leans down to the couch, and grabs a pillow, chucking it to you with a playful smile.

“For your comfort,” He says simply, running a hand through his curls. “I’m-I’m just gonna go into the other room. Take… take your shirt off, and get comfy. There’s an extra sheet over there, in case I get paint on your skirt, or whatever.” Warren quickly excuses himself, much to your amusement. You’re actually quite flustered if you’re being honest; you expected him to make some suggestive comments throughout the night, but he's been a gentleman so far.

Taking one last sip of your wine for some courage, you slip off your shirt and place it over the back of the armchair. You unclasp your bra and put it on the armchair as well. You wrap your arms around your chest for a moment, feeling the vulnerability set it. You can do this, you convince yourself, as you settle yourself on the floor. You're gonna be fine, and you're going to get a really fucking good grade.

“Worthington!” You call out, raising your head to look over your shoulder. “I'm ready!”

Warren comes into the living room, his hands full of his supplies. It takes everything he's got, not to drop them. He really thought he wouldn't be affected by you being half naked on his floor, but he was so wrong. With your hair splayed over your shoulders and sheet over your legs, you look like you had just fallen asleep after…. after some pretty suggestive activities. And it doesn't help that you look like this, on his floor. He just clears his throats and tries to get his shit together as he makes his way over to you, setting down his supplies beside your body.

“Uh, do- do you want me to play some music or something? Do you want any more wine?” He asks, trying to maintain his professionalism.

“Yes to the music, no to the wine, unfortunately.” You reply, earning a laugh from Warren. “I'm pretty sure I'm past tipsy.”

“Aw, that's cute,” Warren teases, as he puts on some soft music. Of fucking course, he listens to Tame Impala. “You're a lightweight.”

“Shut up,” you retort, as he makes his way back to you. “Not all of us binge drink as often as you do.”

Warren chuckles, and gets to his knees, pondering the best way to go about painting. If he wants to get precise strokes and details, he's going to have to be close to your back. “Is it… is it alright if I sit on your thighs?” He asks carefully, preparing for some snarky comment. You're quiet for a moment, and even though he can't see your face, he's sure that you're cringing. But he's proven wrong, as you just burst into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, sure, that's- go for it,” You reply, between giggles. “Just don't crush me.”

“Was that supposed to be an insult?” Warren quips, moving to straddle the upper part of your thighs.

“Definitely not. You're like, way more ripped than an artist should be.”

“Wait, what?” Warren asks, not fully processing your statement.

“Uh, nothing, just- just sit already, Worthington!”

Warren feels his cheeks heat up, and shakes his head with a fond smile. When he settles on your thighs, that’s when he realizes how close he actually is to you. Christ, his dick is pretty much pressed against your ass at this angle. NO, Warren thinks to himself, Do not think of her ass. Focus on the painting. Focus on the painting.

Taking one last deep breath, he picks up a brush to start. He dips the paintbrush into a deep purple, moving his hand to the middle of your back. You instantly shiver when the paint comes in contact with your spine, eliciting a small squeak of surprise from you. Warren just laughs softly and asks you if you’re good. When you just nod against the pillows, he starts again. As he works, you’re pretty sure you’ve entered Heaven. His free hand is soft and inviting as it occasionally touches your skin, and the strokes from his brush are soothing against your skin. When Warren leans down to examine the details of his work, you feel his breath against you - and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart flutter. The music in the background fades as you slip in and out of consciousness, the mixture of wine and the paint making you sleepy. You’re not sure how much time has passed because before you know it, you feel Warren’s weight leave you; making you frown.

“Is it done?” You ask, voice laced with grogginess, as you turn to look at him over your shoulder. His hair is slightly disarrayed, and his white shirt has splatters of blue and purple on it.

“Yeah, it is,”  Warren starts, searching through some bags to dig out his camera. “Do you mind if I take a few for class?”

“No, not at all.” You answer, turning to rest your face back on your arms.

As Warren adjusts the lighting once more for the photographs, he realizes just how dangerously attractive you look. With your hair sprawled out and your body half covered with a sheet, you look like you’ve just fallen asleep in his bed. It’s almost a little too much for him, as you yawn. He shakes himself from his thoughts before he finally starts to snap some pictures. With every click, he can feel himself stray to thoughts of how you’d look underneath him, and how your lips would feel against his. He won’t admit it, but he definitely snaps more than he should, for nights when he can’t shake off the feeling of how your ass felt underneath him. When he sets down his camera, he takes note of how you’re more or less fast asleep on his floor. He kneels down to your face, where he gently places a hand on your shoulder.

“You want to take a shower?” He asks softly, as you rouse from your lax state. “Or I could wipe you off if you don’t want to move.”

“You do it,” You mumble back as if it was the obvious answer. “Don’t wanna move.”

Warren nods in understanding, moving to the kitchen to grab some washcloths. He runs them under hot water, and rings them out, before going back to you. He takes his place on your thighs once more, pressing the warm washcloth on your back. His free hand finds its home on your side, balancing himself as he wipes carefully down your spine. Your reaction is entirely unanticipated and it sets him reeling.

The groan you release is muffled, but not muffled enough for Warren not to hear it. It sounds akin to a pleasured groan; one that is produced when a person is in the midst of a climax and it shakes him to the core. He freezes, and tenses above you. It’s only then, you realize, that Warren fucking Worthington III is hard against your ass.

You’re suddenly not so tired anymore.

It takes Warren a moment for him to collect himself before he starts wiping off your back again. You do your best to stifle your groans, but you’re sure he’s doing it with more pressure deliberately. It’s not long before Warren is done wiping off the paint, and you’re about to thank him before the washcloth is replaced with his hands. The moment his thumbs dig into your shoulders, you know, that you’re completely and utterly fucked.

You’re sure he knows what he’s doing to you, as his deft hands travel around your back, his thumbs digging in all the right places. Warren bites his lower lip, as you’re underneath him, a wicked thought crossing his mind. His hands drift to the base of your spine before he lowers himself so that his lips are level with your ear. You physically shiver when you feel his lower lip brush against the shell of your ear, his fingers dancing across your skin.

“You okay, princess?” Warren’s voice is three octaves lower than usual, and the slight lust in his tone is enough to make a heat of wave surge through your body. You can’t physically make the effort to actually form any coherent words, so you just opt to make an ‘mmh’ that sounds pathetically desperate to your ears. There’s a long, tense pause, as he takes in your answer. You’re about to say something, say something to convince you both that this is maybe a bad idea, but your words are caught in your throat as he places a kiss to the nape of your neck, and he doesn’t stop there. His lips place hot, wet kisses down your back, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to lose it right then when his tongue traces the dip of your spine. His calloused hands travel down your sides, pulling down the dirtied sheet to reveal your skirt, that in the process of painting, has been hiked up a little. The way you’re fisting the pillow underneath you is enough permission for Warren to continue.

He pushes up your skirt and just lets out a dark laugh at what he’s met with. Your lace cheeksters make your ass look fantastic, and he loves the way they look against your skin. His large hands suddenly grasp the swell of your ass, causing a surprised moan to fall from your lips. “Goddamn, princess,” he groans, voice gravelly. You barely even process the feel of his lips suddenly sucking hard at one of your cheeks, his thumb moving to stroke you outside of your panties. You let out an absolutely wrecked moan as he marks up your ass, his thumb rubbing at your clit in uneven circles over your underwear.

He grows quickly impatient with that and opts to scoot forward slightly. Your back arches the second he starts mouthing at your clothed heat, a yelp escaping your lips. Warren hums in approval at your reaction, and that's when he takes the cue to rid you of your underwear altogether. His hands make quick work of the underwear, throwing them behind his shoulder, long forgotten. Your breath is ragged and short as his rough hands grasp your ass, and you all but scream his name when his tongue presses against your cunt.

The angle’s a little awkward, but you don't really care: because all you can focus on is the feel of his tongue lapping at you like a starved man, and the feel of his hands spreading your ass apart. Warren alternates between deep, longing licks and short, teasing ones. Your knuckles are turning white from how hard you’re grasping the pillow underneath you, and you nearly lurch forward when you feel his tongue against your ass.

“Fuck!” You curse loudly. Your voice cracks from how dry it is, but you don’t care. Warren fucking laughs at your reaction, because he knew you were close, too.

He keeps up the teasing, deep licks for a couple more minutes. He wants to see how far he can push you until you’re begging for the release you need. He’s always been a tease. It takes Warren by surprise when he feels your hand place itself in his curls, fingers digging into the roots of his hair. You impatiently press him harder into you, and he seems to get the point. His tongue immediately moves down to your clit, where he focuses his attention. With every movement of his chin, you could feel the day old stubble rub against the apex of your thighs, only increasing the pleasure. The second Warren’s fingers nudge at your clit, you gasp out his name; finally getting that release you’ve needed for the past ten minutes.

Your eyes shut tightly as you cum, your grip on Warren’s hair tightening as he rides out your orgasm. His fingers are still rubbing at your clit, making your body pulse and writhe underneath him. It’s not long before he finally detaches himself from your aching cunt, and hastily making his way up towards your lips.

He leaves a couple more kisses on your ass and spine before you’re resting your weight on your elbows to meet him halfway. You’re pretty sure a first kiss has never been so utterly filthy before. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, and you’re kicking yourself for being turned on by the taste of yourself on his lips. At the taste of yourself, you can’t help the needy little moan that leaves your mouth, which causes Warren to actually fucking growl.

It’s a blur, as Warren’s hands plant themselves on your hips, practically manhandling you to your back. He leans back on his heels to pull off his shirt quickly, returning to give you a bruising kiss. It’s a mess of tongue and teeth, as his hands greedily knead at your breasts. Your hands shove themselves between your bodies, fingers trying to unbuckle his belt as quickly as you can possibly manage. The second his belt falls to the floor with a ‘clink,’ Warren detaches his mouth from yours once more. He kicks off his jeans and briefs hurriedly, wasting no time to come back to you.

When he comes back down to you, you can’t really help yourself, as your hand slides down once more to grip his length. The second you stroke him, Warren gasps heavily into your mouth; his eyes screwing shut. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, as you stroke his cock. You let out a small noise of surprise when he regains his focus, his hand moving to hold the base of your throat.

His hips grind forward, the length of him sliding across your wanting entrance. When you whine in response, Warren just chuckles darkly, ducking down to brush his lips against yours.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He whispers, the hold on your throat tightening. “Want me to fuck you good?” You’re so far gone that your body feels like one huge pulse; controlled by the single hand on your throat, the soft lips ghosting against yours. Your slightly trembling hand moves to grip his wrist as your hips roll into his, your head nodding almost frantically, giving him the green light. He smirks down at you, and you can practically see the lust in his eyes. The second he tightens that grip around your throat, you can already tell that you’re going to have trouble walking straight.

He slides into you easily, filling you to the brim. The ragged moan that the two of you let out is so fucking filthy, that it makes the whole situation even sexier. He doesn’t waste any time in setting up a deep, punishing rhythm. Warren’s lips seem to be connected permanently connected to your jaw as he fucks you, his teeth scraping at biting at the skin there. Your gasps are loud but you don’t care because they’re quickly muffled by Warren. Your hands move under his arms, nails digging into his back, only causing Warren to thrust harder into you.

You’re already sensitive as hell from earlier, which makes you cum quickly around him. The second Warren feels you clench around him, eyes rolling back into your head, he knows he’s got you.

“Fuck, yeah,” He groans, his hand leaving your throat. “So fuckin’ hot when you cum.”

You wrap your arms around his neck to yank him back down for a bruising, mean kiss, his tongue fucking into your mouth, as he feels his orgasm creep up on him. All it takes is for him to pull back and take one good look at you, to finish; the fucked out look you give him is what does him in.

He cums with almost a yell, his hips slamming hard into yours and stilling; his hot cum spilling into you. Warren collapses against your chest, his breath ragged, his heart rate elevated. It seems like you both just lay there for an eternity, as he keeps his head resting in the crook of your neck. Part of you wants to believe that this whole thing was a mistake; something to blame on the alcohol. The other part of you wants to feel his lips on yours once more and to feel his hips thrusting against yours.

It feels like ages before Warren stands, moving to the kitchen to grab a warm cloth to clean you up with. You lie there feeling almost jaded as you let him clean you up, shivering at his touch when he moves the cloth between your legs. He leans back on his heels and offers you his hand, helping you up. You stumble slightly, but Warren is quick to catch you. Warren just coughs out a small laugh, which causes you to scowl at him playfully.

“I... I think I may need that shower now,” you tell him quietly. Warren just chuckles and nods in understanding. He helps you to the bathroom because lord knows your legs don’t work properly after that. In the bathroom, he starts up the shower and throws you a towel, turning to make his leave. Warren is surprised when you pull him back by his wrist, a tired smile playing at your lips. Your eyes are half lidded, high off the sex and still drunk off the wine. Warren wonders how you still manage to look beautiful, even after he just fucked you senseless. His breath hitches when your finger grazes the dips of his abs, his eyes following your finger, tracing over the paint smears that litter his skin.

“I know you’re sweaty from the sex, but don’t think I didn’t notice the paint,” You tell him, as you look up at him through your lashes. Your fingers idly trace up his torso and to his neck, tracing his collarbones. Warren’s adam’s apple visibly bobs as you move them to his lips, tracing them gently. His lips part, and as a natural reflex, they slip into his mouth. His tongue laves over them for a fleeting moment, before you’re caught off guard by his hands gripping your hips. He all but slams you against the counter, your fingers popping out of his mouth. Warren mouths at your neck, one of his hands moving to inevitably finger you again. You’re quicker than him though, your hand wrapping around his wrist to stop him. He pulls away like a docile dog, probably thinking he pushed your limits. Pushing his curls out of his face in reassurance, you say,

“Not that I’m opposed to the idea, it’s just that the water’s probably getting cold.”

The confused visage melts away, replaced with an almost bashful smile. He just leans forward, resting his face in the crook of your neck. It takes you slightly aback when he presses a chaste kiss underneath your ear - a kiss lovers most likely share. You try not to think about it too hard. He pulls back, and you both get into the shower. It’s quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You both clean up and share small, fond smiles as you pass the shampoo back and forth. When you get out, he wraps you up in a towel and leaves you be to change. As you dry your hair with your towel, the reflection in the mirror is only what can be described as a hot mess. He surely did a number on your neck, that’s for sure. Looks like it’s going to be nothing but scarves and turtlenecks for the next week.

He offers you his bed to stay in for the night, and as pleasing as it sounds, you have to deny. You have work early the next morning, and you’re sure if you spend the night he’ll add more damage to your neck, which you just can’t have. As you gather your purse, Warren comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you squirm a little when he presses light kisses to the marks he’d left earlier. Your arms overlap his, as you try to break free out of his grip, only to fail. He spins you so that he can mouth at your jaw. The bastard.

“Warren,” You all but stutter out, with a smile. He pulls back with a smug grin, raising his brows in fake innocence. “You’re making it so hard for me to leave.”

“That’s the idea, princess.” He quips quietly, his lips ghosting over yours as he leans in for another kiss. You turn at the last second and push out of his grip with a mischievous grin. Warren sighs in defeat, pushing back his damp bangs.

Cutting him some slack, you stand on your tippy toes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. When you pull back, he’s got a crooked grin on his face, and almost a wicked gleam in his eye. You back up to the front door, and before you turn the knob to leave, you say,

“See you in class, Worthington.”

The next few weeks are slightly surreal. Neither of you acknowledges that you had sex, but the dynamic between the two of you is very obviously different. You’re friends now-or at least friendly. Warren reigns in his ‘constructive criticism’ in class, and you work together on another project, and everything feels normal, besides the whole ‘being friends’ thing. You still roll your eyes when you see him smooth talking the other people in the class and you definitely don’t cut him any slack for his ego, but it’s less aggressive and more bantering now, and you don’t really know where this is going, but you like being his friend, so you just figure you’ll let it happen. You don’t go to his parties though, and you don’t show up to any of his exhibits. They feel like you’re committing to something, though you’re not sure what, or even why it feels like that, and it sets you slightly on edge.

Warren doesn’t keep asking you to things either, which is why you’re feeling almost as surprised as he looks when you push open the door to one of the campus art galleries where his latest exhibit is being displayed along with other top student artists from the area. He glances over reflexively as he hears the faint noise from the door, and then freezes when he sees you. You’re pretty sure this is the first time he’s seen you put any significant effort into your appearance, and you’re not hating the distinctly appreciative look in his eye as he takes in your dress and heels.

“What’re you-” he starts, and breaks off, still staring at you as if this is unfamiliar territory and he doesn’t know how to proceed. “I don’t think I mentioned this show to you,” he remarks with feigned nonchalance, and you smirk at him.

“You didn’t. But I’m here to see if you can back up all that shit you like to talk about being an ‘up and coming artist’ or whatever,” you quip, and a small answering smirk of his own curves his lips as he hands you a champagne flute from a passing waiter.

“Princess, I can back up all my talk,” Warren retorts, a slightly suggestive emphasis in his tone that makes you laugh as you take hold of his proffered arm and he begins to lead you around the small gallery.

He takes you through the other student’s sections first, and you expect him to trash talk everything about their exhibits, but he doesn’t-well, not all that much. He points out details in the pieces that you wouldn’t have picked up on and he tells you about the process and the techniques you’re unfamiliar with without being overtly condescending about it. You’re almost hyper aware of the other girls in the gallery throwing lingering glances his way, but not once does he leave you to fend for yourself.

It takes you the better part of two hours to reach his section of the exhibition, in part because he seems to have taken it upon himself to explain the aesthetically and technically impressive aspects of the other artist’s work and because he keeps being stopped by unfamiliar, but important looking people. When he finally reaches his own display, you’re astonished by his lack of overt arrogance, actually looking a little unsure of himself as you stand in front of the first big piece. It’s a hazy, unfocused, dimly lit photograph of his apartment living room in weak evening sunlight, and while you can certainly appreciate its aesthetic value, you feel like you’re grasping at straws as you try to come up with a deeper meaning for it.

“So what does this mean?” you say eventually, still studying the enlarged photo on the wall before you. “I mean, it’s a good photo, and I get the technique, but is there a message you’re trying to send or whatever?” Warren laughs sheepishly, one hand ruffling his hair unconsciously.

“I-uh-that shot was a total accident, to be honest. I told my professor that it was an attempt to capture the intangible sense of melancholy brought by the ending of a day, but actually, I fell asleep on the couch and my glasses fell off, and then when I woke up again the light was gorgeous, but I could barely see, so I grabbed what luckily turned out to be my good camera and sort of hoped for the best,” he explains, cheeks slightly flushed, and you can’t stop the giggle that escapes you as your gaze drifts from him to the photo and back to him again.

“Y’know,” You remark after taking a second to compose yourself. “I definitely thought you wore those glasses to be some ironic cliché hipster or some bullshit like that rather than actually needing to correct your vision.”

“Yeah, I’m blind as a bat.” Warren nods complacently at your remark and the utterly unperturbed manner in which he accepts your jab brings on a fresh wave of laughter from you, leaving a slightly inscrutable smile on his face as he watches you. The next block of work is a small spread of still life charcoals, and as you examine them a little more closely, you let out an incredulous chuckle.

“These are from class. Our class. I thought you were an edgy boundary pushing artist or whatever but you actually put some honest to god fruit bowl still life in your big exhibit,” you giggle in an almost accusatory manner, and he glares at you in mock offense.

“Hey, don’t knock the classics. My technique is really good in these and I gotta counterbalance my edgy stuff with something so the old people don’t have heart attacks,” he says defensively, and you roll your eyes, taking his arm again and tugging him on to the next display board.

“Whatever you say, maestro.”

Warren watches you as you pull him around his exhibit, asking questions about his work and more often than not teasing him about his answers, not taking any of his gracefully articulated pretentious explanations seriously when you ask what the art means. He’s utterly unaware of the other girls watching him enviously as he walks with you around the gallery and the thought crosses his mind that he hasn’t had this much fun with someone else in a long time. Your skin is warm against his and even though neither of you has mentioned that night in his loft, he sure as hell hasn’t forgotten it. That night and the events that transpired aren’t far from your mind either, and as you approach the final photograph in his exhibit, you can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes your lips, because it’s you.

The photo is familiar, but it’s not one of the ones the two of you handed in as your final project. The painting on your back is a technically excellent as you remember it being, but something about the lighting of the photo and the drape of the sheet over your lower back makes this one infinitely more suggestive, and you look away after a couple of seconds, heat rising to your cheeks.

“What, no questions about this one?” Warren asks, teasingly and you roll your eyes, even as you avoid looking over at him.

“No, I think I’m already pretty familiar with the details of this particular photo, thanks,” you retort, and he chuckles. Looking around the gallery, you notice that the rest of the guests have more or less cleared out now, and the staff hired for the event are starting to clear away the tables. You don’t check the time but you know it’s getting late, and yet you’re not quite ready to leave because you like spending time with Warren when he’s like this. No arrogant superiority and not blatantly flirting with anything that breathes. Glancing up at him, you make a split second decision, tightening your grip on his arm and starting to tug him towards the door.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink. There’s a really good bar not far from here,” you say decisively. He doesn’t resist, but he gives you a quizzical look as you pull him along the sidewalk.

“I’m not complaining or anything, but is there a particular motivation to buy me a drink?” He asks and you let out a short laugh, leaning into his side a little because the night is colder than you had expected.

“Let’s just call it payment in kind, or whatever. I’ve talked a lot of shit about your art, and you proved me wrong tonight, so it’s the least I can do. Besides, I’ve been having a good night. Have you?” You tease him, and Warren chuckles in response, unwinding his arm from yours and tugging you to a brief pause as he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders before offering you his arm again. You give him a surprised look as you hook your arm through his, leaning a little more heavily against him than necessary because you never expected him to be like this with you, but you definitely don’t dislike it in the slightest. “Look at you being a gentleman, Worthington,” you quip, and you can’t quite tell under the dim glow of the streetlights, but you think he might actually be blushing.

“Don’t spread it around, I have a rep to maintain,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes and elbow him lightly in the side as you continue down the sidewalk together.

It takes five minutes to reach the bar, and when you slip inside, it’s fairly empty, only a few other patrons nursing drinks in booths or at the counter. You hand Warren his jacket and point him at a table in the corner as you head to the bar to order drinks for the two of you.

“Did you-you didn’t need to buy me a drink,” he starts and you scoff, cutting him off.

“I said I would and it’s not like one beer costs me all that much. You can buy the next few if you really feel you have to for whatever reason,” you say, and he just laughs, clinking his bottle to yours before taking a sip.

The two of you sit and drink for another hour, and true to his word, Warren buys the next few drinks for the two of you. It’s a little surreal, spending time with him like this, and as the night wears on, this unfamiliar tension starts to build between the two of you. It makes you feel like there are sparks skittering over your skin and you can’t stop thinking about the first time you and he were drinking together. His hair has gotten progressively messier and his shirtsleeves are rolled up and it could be your imagination or the alcohol or a whole range of other factors, but his crooked grin seems to be getting more and more suggestive by the minute and you can’t help but consider just how of big a mistake it might be to kiss him.

It only takes one or two drinks for you to be on Warren’s side of the table, leaning into his side with his arm around your shoulder, and you don’t really want to think about what the consequences might be if the night goes where you’re steering it. Not long after that, the pool table in the corner of the bar clears out and you get up from your seat with a smirk, grabbing his hand and pulling him over.

“You know how to play, or am I gonna have to ask someone else here to teach me?” You ask with a wicked smirk on your face. Warren smirks back at you as he downs the last of his drink, rising to his feet and following you as you tug him over to where the pool table stands in the corner.

“Don’t you worry sweetheart, I know how to play,” he drawls, slinging an arm over your shoulders and pressing in close to your side as you survey the table. You know how to play pool. You play pretty damn well. But Warren doesn’t need to know that. Though, you’re not sure he’d care that you were strategically miscommunicating about your skill level, given that result is having you pressed up against his chest as he leans over you, his arms around your shoulders to help you guide the pool cue.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the warmth of his body pressed up against yours or the way his arms felt as they wrapped around yours, repositioning you gently. His breath is warm on your neck and on an impulse, you deliberately rub your ass up against him. The way his breath hitches in his chest is enough to bring a satisfied smirk to your face as you do it again, a little less subtly this time. Warren lets out a low, muffled groan as you line up the next shot, hitting it dead on. His grip on your body is getting steadily tighter as you continue to deliberately roll your hips back against his, gratified when you feel his hard on against your ass.

It takes all of about ten more minutes of this teasing before he takes the pool cue from you, setting it on the table before gripping your waist tightly and ducking his head to graze his lips along the column of your throat. You let out a low sigh of contentment as you turn in his arms to face him, a hint of a challenge glimmering in your eyes as you wind your arms around his neck, briefly taking in the empty bar before smirking at him.

“Bathroom. Five minutes,” you whisper, voice low and suggestive, before pulling away, walking over to grab your bag from your chair and then past him to the bathroom in the corner, incredibly aware of his gaze on you as you go.

He’s there in less than five, but the bar is almost totally deserted so it doesn’t really matter. The second the door is locked behind the two of you, he’s pushing you up against the sink counter, hands heavy on your hips as he kisses you hard. Your tongue is sliding against his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in closer as you slip back to sit on the edge of the counter. As Warren dips his head to mouth along your neck, you reach blindly into your bag, feeling around till you pull a condom out. He lets out a breathless groan of arousal when he sees what’s in your hand.

“You came here knowing you wanted to fuck me, didn’t you princess?” he growls, his voice rough and hoarse, and you just shoot him a coy smile as you undo his belt buckle, pushing his pants and boxers down past his hips to roll the condom on, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the low hiss he lets out at your touch.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. It’s not like you don’t wanna fuck me, though, is it?”

That’s all it takes for him to push you back further onto the counter, shoving your dress up your thighs as he hauls your panties down your legs and discards them before parting your legs with rough hands, pushing into you with an urgency that makes your head spin as he tugs the neckline of your dress down to knead at your breasts.

It’s quick and rough and hot and when he pulls away from you to dispose of the condom, you have an assortment of marks along the neckline of your dress that you can’t quite hide. Warren gives you a crooked, tired grin as he re-buckles his belt.

“That was a damn sight more fun than the gallery, sweetheart,” he says and you smile at him in the mirror as you touch up your lipstick.

“I know how to have a good time, Worthington.”

He pockets your panties before heading back out to the main bar, and you follow a few seconds later, a self-satisfied smirk firmly in place as you leave the bathroom. Neither of you mentions the sex as he walks you back to your apartment, and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight.

#warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington iii x reader #x-men imagine #xmen imagine #marvel imagine #xmen fanfic #xmen fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[shrugman]

all of them

alright buddy here we go

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?idk man probs cereal 

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?no it feels like jack frost hit me with his dick

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?rn a plane ticket

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?milk and sugar because I love death

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?I like my closed mouth smile but you’ll have to kill me to get me to use teeth

6: do you keep plants?I try

7: do you name your plants?always

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?poetry 

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?yeh

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?on side, one leg curled up under me like a flamingo, hand on the tiddie

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?okay first of all *friend, second of all; cheese pizza

12: what's your favorite planet?ur mum lmao

13: what's something that made you smile today?stephanie 

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?800 succulents and 400 pillows

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!“Gliese 581 c wants to kill you“

16: what's your favorite pasta dish?Alfredo 

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?purple, did it. also jet black but not worth the risk tbh

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.....stairs

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?I have a poetry book I guess

20: what's your favorite eye color?all

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.I got it at an antique shop and it’s a smiley face back pack but I left it with katie because she needed it more than I did

22: are you a morning person?no

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?die

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?My one true love, Stephanie

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?abandoned hotel on base

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?I wear by black boots every day but I’ve only had them for like 4 months

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?cherry lime

28: sunrise or sunset?set

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?When I make Stephanie laugh over snapchat she sends me a picture with her mouth wide open and idk it always makes me smile

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?I spent the last month in fear I’d be killed by terrorists 

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.this is too many questions 

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.nah

33: what's your fave pastry?anything cherry tbh

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?Teddy Bair was a gift from my dad to my mom but I loved him so much I stole him and he became mine. He’s on my bed at college with me rn

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?I like gel pens and I color with them

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?TOP

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?I like it cleanish but it’s always messy because that’s my biggest depression problem 

38: tell us about your pet peeves!people not shutting up ever

39: what color do you wear the most?black 

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you?I have a locket my sister got me like 10 years ago that has a picture of us

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?tbh idk

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!It’s in Japan and Katie and I used to spend hours there together. It’s where we really became friends 

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?the astronomy club lmao

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?never

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?about certain things

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.I really don’t want to 

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?kale

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?the dentist. yes

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?I haven’t in a while bc I have no way to play them

50: what's an odd thing you collect?tears

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?Stephanie- true friends 

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?Have there really been any?

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?Heathers is my favorite movie

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?this is a rude question

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?at this point I don’t even know

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?when they have little things that make them light up

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?no

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?I’m the vodka mom and Stephanie is the vodka aunt and we both are the wine gay cousin 

59: what's your favorite myth?tbh idk

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?I do but I can’t think of a specific fav

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?mean question 

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?I drink ALL JUICE ALL DAY

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?leave them be and then organize them every now and again

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?idk prolly dark blue/black

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?I always wanna see Stephanie 

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?black roses and light pink accent flowers

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?sad

68: what's winter like where you live?cold

69: what are your favorite board games?monopoly 

70: have you ever used a ouija board?I’m not THAT white

71: what's your favorite kind of tea?no

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?nah

73: what are some of your worst habits?yeah we don’t have time for that

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.v good v pure best person on planet 

75: tell us about your pets!dog!!!!!!!!!!!!

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't?so many things

77: pink or yellow lemonade?yellow. Idk what makes it pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?please stop bringing them up

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?i dunno

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?white. no I live in a dorm

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.wow it sees 

82: are/were you good in school?for the most part

83: what's some of your favorite album art?I like the all about us cover

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?the only one I want rn is one matching stephanie 

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?who do u think i am

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?idk

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?Heathers, Ghost Busters (2016), Creepy Hanna Doll

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?I like stick figures that show emotion

89: are you close to your parents?yeah I think

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.I like Fredericksburg because it’s boring as fuck but it’s one of the only places that I can even kinda call home

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?too many places

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?give me it all

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?down with nothing done but blow drying it

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?It’s Matthew’s today :D

95: what are your plans for this weekend?cry

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?push it off for SO long

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?can’t remember, Capricorn, Slytherin 

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?idk for hiking 

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.whenever I’m really really sad I listen to Iris on repeat 

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?I guess future because I don’t wanna go back. But also I don’t think I even want to risk skipping 5 years because who knows if I’ll miss out on something I really wanna be here forThat took FOREVER ily 

#ask #long post #324bee2dun