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runningfrom2am · 5 months

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leveling the playing field VI

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing

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a/n: omg it finally happened?? i couldn't resist anymore i had to :,)

anyway i wanted to pop in for a rare note and say thank you so so much to everyone reading this!! it means so much to me that people are enjoying this as much as i am enjoying writing it :)

so if you are and you wouldn't mind,, please reblog or leave your thoughts in the replies! it really helps me out so that way it can reach more people, and also it really helps motivate me to actually keep writing it bc i'll be reminded people want me to :).

thank you for reading this long ass authors note! and thanks for making it this far in the fic!!

i promise it's not over yet ;) we've still got a long way to go! so hopefully i'll see y'all soon when the next part comes out !

xoxo, raye

You walked back to the academy, still too high on adrenaline to even consider sleeping at that point. By the time Coryo made it back in, it was nearly eight am. You totally understand him wanting to get a bit of extra sleep, considering the night you just had- but who knows how long he was with Dr. Gaul.

Other mentors had started to arrive before he did, and almost everyone made it clear they didn't want to speak with you. You didn't have the energy to chat anyway, you didn't want to. You're endlessly relieved when Coryo arrives, notifying you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder. You jump at this, regardless of his effort to not scare you.

The chair scrapes across the floor and you feel everyone's eyes on you at the dramatic reaction. To him, it really wasn't shocking.

"Sorry- I'm sorry." You chuckle, quickly getting up to give him his spot back.

"Have you slept?" He asks, making no effort to reclaim the desk, noticing how your hands are shaking as you motion for him to sit.

You aren't sure what the safer answer is. Yes, I slept while I was supposed to be watching over Lucy Gray? Or no, I'm still running on the two hours I got a couple of days ago? Neither is very promising, so you decide to just be honest.

"No, uh, I've been watching for Lucy Gray." You point to the screen, unable to control the trembling of your hand as you do. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, so I just decided to start drinking coffee a few hours ago. Might as well commit." You explain, trying to force positivity into your tone and a smile on your face.

Coryo eyes you warily. "You should go home. Get some rest."

"No! No, I'm fine." You insist. "I'm not missing it."

"Go home and sleep." He says again, sternly this time. You tend to listen to him when he's commanding so he clung to that approach, but the look in your eyes immediately makes him regret it.

You look down, then back to your seat on the bench. You take a shaky breath before locking eyes with the blonde again. You're full of impulses that contradict each other. To listen to him, to snap and tell him not to speak to you like that, or to storm out and never come back. Realistically, he is under a ridiculous amount of stress. You can't blame him for being a little commandeering. After all, it's what he is meant to do. It's what he's been raised for. "I told you. I can't."

Realization dawns on him and he stares at you for a second, eyes widening. "Right." He nods slightly, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. "Just go lay down on the bench." He accentuates his point by shaking the jacket.

You smile, taking it gratefully. "Thank you, Coryo."

"'Course." He nods, finally moving to sit down once you walk away. You settle down on the bench and curl up, your head resting on his bunched-up uniform jacket like it's a pillow. You're not sure you've ever been so comfortable, and you're asleep within a minute.

Coriolanus wonders if his coat will smell like raspberries when you return it.

"What's he doing?" You hear Coryo's accusatory voice before you even open your eyes. As you try and shift, adjusting to the sounds of everyone around you, you come back to reality. No wonder your neck is sore as soon as you sit up, sore from your wooden bed, with no time to really wake up before you're hit with the realization of what's happening on the screen.

"I-I don't know!" Lysistrata says, assumingly replying to him.

You're squinting at the lights as you adjust, the figures of Lucy Gray and Jessup becoming clear as he chases her in her rainbow dress out of the tunnel and across the floor, booking it toward a pile of debris that would allow her to climb up into the stands.

"What's happening?" You ask pointlessly, standing now that you see Coryo is as well.

Lysistrata looks at you, shrugging helplessly as she stands next to Coryo.

"Hey! You promised me that if I-" You start, pacing toward the girl with determination, anger burning up in your chest and in your eyes.

"Y/N/N, wait-" Coriolanus holds his hand out to stop you, effectively his attack dog, from getting any closer. From telling her off for blowing your deal. He squints closer at the screen, not saying a word, just leaving you in a limbo- unsure what to do.

As the camera zooms in on the tribute, his theory is confirmed. Jessup has a white foam surrounding his mouth, and Coryo looks at you knowingly. Had Lucy Gray poisoned him? Surely not, he was her only ally. It was too early to take him out, but maybe she didn't think that through, maybe-

"Rabies." You say, hardly above a whisper, eyes locked back on the screen now as well. "That's why the medications didn't help."

Coriolanus is relieved by this explanation, it makes so much more sense. But only knowing what's wrong doesn't help Lucy Gray, Jessup is still fully feral, chasing her up in the stands on wobbly legs as she makes her way to what is left of a concession stand.

"If she can just stay away, he won't last long in this state." Lysistrata says, looking on with sadness in her eyes. "Poor Jessup..."

"Coryo." You say, ignoring her sympathies, seeing Coryo's mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. "Do you remember those posters in the war? When the rabies breakout happened?" You ask, holding onto his arm, giving him a light shake to snap him out of it. "They said that-"

You don't get to finish before he's reaching for the comunicuff. Water, of course.

"Wait." Lysistrata stops him, grabbing the arm that was reaching for the screen.

"Don't touch him! Jessup's going to die anyway! All we can do is try to keep him away- you just said that!" You fire off at her.

"I know, Y/N." She lets him go, holding her hands out defensively. "Let me do it. He's my tribute, after all."

"Lyssie... You don't have to do that." Coriolanus tells her, and you feel guilty for snapping on her like that. She was just trying to help.

"If Jessup can't win, I want it to be Lucy Gray. That's what he would want, too." She explains, stepping back to her desk, tapping away at the screen and sending in water bottles on faulty drones that are more likely to knock the tributes out and smash the bottle than successfully deliver it to their hand.

Thankfully, this is what you want. You watch quietly as Jessup is bombarded with drones programmed to seek out his features, and Lucy Gray drops behind some of the seats to avoid any flying glass or stray drones. He swings helplessly at them with a board he picked up somewhere along the chase, and you glance at Lyssie for only a second, which is long enough to pick up on the fact that she's crying. God, that's probably your fault.

He trips and falls off the stands, bones audibly cracking on impact. Everyone in the room is silent as Lucy Gray reemerges, climbing down to be at his side.

"God, please don't let him die alone..." Lysistrata whispers, hardly audible even to Coriolanus, who's stood right next to her.

"She won't." He whispers back. "It's not her style."

You swallow, drowning in your own guilt while Lucy Gray is talking to the dying boy, stroking his hair and telling him to go to sleep until his eyes lose all sense of life, chest halting. She closes his eyes gently, which cues the buzzer announcing his death.

"Lyssie..." You stop her as she stands to leave, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what you were doing."

She laughs slightly, more tears spilling from her eyes. "Y/N. I know you, okay? I get it. Don't apologize if you don't mean it." Until she finished speaking, you didn't realize her laughs were bitter. "You can't keep taking out your anger issues on everyone else. I'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it- sick of you." She says, not giving you the chance to defend yourself before she's gone. You did mean it, but it's not like she'd ever believe that. You had done this to yourself.

You straighten your shoulders, turning to face the screen again. "Lysistrata will come around." Coryo says, sensing the tension radiating off your skin like a heater.

You just slightly shake your head. "Maybe I... Maybe I should go home. Just for a bit." You say, but it comes out more as a question.

"You should stay." He states, offhandedly sending some food in for Lucy Gray before turning to face you fully. He could guess why you don't want to go home, whether or not you were explicitly told to not return until the games were done, though, he doesn't know. Either way, for him, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Actually, yeah, you're right." You sniff. "I'm just having a moment. I'll be fine." You force a smile, blinking rapidly to push back those stubborn tears that wanted to spill.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I just meant..." Coryo trails off.

"It's okay." You smile and nod. "Can I just get some air, then? I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Please. Don't rush on my account." He nods. "But don't stray too far."

"Yes sir, Mister President." You joke, giving him a lazy salute before heading for the door.

You had been gone for a while, far too long for Coriolanus's comfort. Lucy Gray retreated into the tunnels after receiving the food he sent and seeing Reaper come back into the clearing. Now, with Lucky rambling on about the weather again, he felt like he would snap.

He double-checks once more that Lucy Gray is, in fact, still hiding, before he gets up to go after you.

It doesn't take Coryo long to find you, due to him tracking down the sound of crying in the hall. No doubt in his mind it was you, but he'd never seen you cry before.

You stop at the sound of footsteps, frantically wiping your eyes and nose on your sleeve as you make an effort to stand. By then, he's in front of you.

"Don't get up." He says, crouching down in front of you. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know exactly why you're crying, or how to help. He wishes he did, he would do just about anything. "What do you need?"

You shake your head, forcing a smile and trying to stand anyway. Coryo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. "I-I don't.." You start, but as soon as you speak the tears start flowing again and you feel like you can't breathe.

"It's okay. Hey, you're okay." He says, pulling you into his arms, effectively onto his lap as he sits back. One thing he knows that works with you is a hug- it's all he can do while he thinks over what could be the root of your problem, or was it just that Lysistrata's comment pushed you over the edge? You were overtired, overworked, and this easily could have been the last straw.

Through your tears, you try to tell him that you're fine, but you just stutter and spit and you know you're a mess- a mortification to your family.

"I'm not sick of you, Y/N." Coryo says, rubbing your back. Feeling your hair between his fingers and trying not to tangle it or pull it by mistake. "I could never get sick of you."

It surprises him when you laugh. Of all things, a laugh. It was just so you.

His statement was more of a confession to himself than to you, and when you pull back he's scared. Was it not about that? Was he way off base, or incredibly unhelpful and somehow offended you?

You sniff, wiping your eyes again. "Thanks," You chuckle, shaking your head. "But you don't have to say that."

Coryo tilts his head, confusion knitted into his expression. "I do." He insists, able to look into your eyes now. "I have to tell you that because it's the truth."

You sigh, smiling slightly. Sadly. "You don't see it."

"See it? See what?"

You just shrug, making no attempts to move away. His hands on you, the feeling of him almost surrounding you is comforting. You want to live in it forever, but you know you can't. "Just... That I'm me, I guess." You say, voice cracking. "You're unflinching to it." You're abrasive sometimes, defensive, and some would call you an overall angry person. He doesn't see you that way, and you're not sure why. Today you were slapped in the face with the fact that your actions have consequences more serious than what your parents can make up for with money or unwritten agreements.

"What's wrong with being you?" He asks rhetorically, not giving you a chance for you to argue before he continues. "You did the right thing. They're jealous- that's all it is. None of them fight for what they want like you, they just sit around and wait for it to be handed to them on a silver platter, and you could too, but you're better than that. You're better than them. Stronger than them."

With his hands now moved up to your shoulders, he's shaking you gently, trying to get your mind to soak in what he's telling you. To believe it, because he knows he's right. The reason others avoid you is the very reason he is drawn to you- your ambition is unmatched, except, maybe, by his own.

"Do you understand, Y/N?" Coryo asks, pressing one hand to your cheek and staring deep into your eyes as if he could somehow look into your mind and grab hold of what Lysistrata said, replacing it with his vision of who you are. "You are perfect. They are fools."

Your smile had gone, ready to fight his point, but it returned by the time his rant was done, blush creeping its way across your cheeks and over your nose. "Perfect is a bit of a strong word." You speak softly. "Don't you think?"

"No. I don't." He shakes his head slightly, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

The air became thick with everything he said circulating in your head like a carousel. A relentless spinning cycle with Coryo's every word circling around itself and caging in your panic. The spinning seemed to slow after a moment, as if giving you a chance to catch your breath.

Seemingly, in your experience with him, compliments were few and far between. To others, anyway. Not that you were keeping track, but if receiving compliments from Coriolanus Snow was a race you would be winning by a mile, and that's exactly what it felt like every time.

He tilts your chin up again, the same way he had just a couple of days ago in the arena, drawing your eyes back to his. It takes every ounce of his focus to keep his hand from shaking.

Truth be told, the desperate honesty in his eyes was enough to convince you he was right. You are better than them, smarter than them, stronger than them. If Lysistrata and your other classmates chose to hate you for that, that was because of fear. You'd be lying if you tried to say it didn't make you feel better, even powerful. Coriolanus thought it was right, so how could it not be?

You smile, nodding slightly within his grasp. "You're right, aren't you?"

"Always." He validates your entire thought process just like that.

You can't help it anymore. The power of his words push you past the brink, leaning forward to meet his lips with your own. Coryo pulls you forward with his firm and gentle hold on your cheek, meeting you half way. And as he kisses you, heart pounding out of his chest, you both feel fucking invincible.

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #thg #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg series #the hunger games

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asdfghjklmals · 8 months

Note

Hii :)

I absolutely lovee your writings I've read each of them like 98688 times :)))

You asked for ideas so I thought maybe a fic that reader and satoru and the whole gang are still in school but they're not dating yet and reader and shoko are really close friends and satoru gets kinda jealous cause shoko hugs reader all the time and idk kiss her on chick or smth and satoru wishes he had the courage to do that????

Idk if you fell like it and were comfortable:))))

Thankss <3

THE COURAGE TO TRY✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 1.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. lovesick!gojo, a lil' jealous!gojo. bestie!suguru does what he does best and instigates for these two. one sided pining, but iykyk.

SYNOPSIS: satoru wishes he could be more than just friends with oc gojo girlfriend. AUTHOR'S NOTE: the first request to my milestone event (click here for more info). 💚 pre-dating oc gojo girlfriend and satoru, which i have a soft spot for hehehe. this is right after 'sleeping with the enemy', so click here to read it before you read this fic! REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“are you going to blink any time soon?” suguru asked his bestfriend, waving in front of his face, "—earth to satoru?"

“huh.” satoru grumbled in annoyance. “what are you talking about?”

in case you overheard, suguru whispered in satoru’s ear to save him from his own embarrassment, “i’m talking about how you haven’t taken your eyes off of (y/n) all day. you’re starting to look like a creep.”

satoru pushed him away as his face turned bright red, “oh, shut up, suguru!”

the two sorcerers watched from the other end of the classroom as you and shoko were practicing your reversed cursed techniques together. he saw shoko jumping up and down with joy, hugging you tightly, probably excited that you were starting to hone in on your skills. a twinge of jealously jabbed at the white haired sorcerer.

suguru started to pry, “are you and (y/n) going to have another sleepover tonight?”

“suguru, get to the point. what the hell do you want?” satoru snapped in annoyance.

“oh come on, you know for a fact that everyone including our muscle-brained sensei, knows that you have been sneaking into (y/n)’s dorm room at night—not to mention past curfew.” suguru sighed at how oblivious satoru thought he was. suguru was smarter than that. "everyone just wants to know if you two are dating yet!"

satoru’s flush of red in his cheeks did not fade away, instead he just got redder and redder the more his bestfriend talked about the two of you possibly becoming a couple.

suguru curiously asked, “how long as this been going on for?”

satoru gritted his teeth and sighed, “ever since we got back from our mission together.”

“are you guys—”

satoru quickly interrupted his bestfriend before he said anything else to embarrass him further, “i only go to her room to sleep—for some reason, i sleep better when i’m with her. i think it’s her custom futon.”

it wasn’t your custom futon at all. it was the comfort of your presence.

suguru knew that satoru had a difficult time sleeping ever since he started attending jujutsu high. satoru was the type of person to doze off for a couple hours here and there, but never got any actual decent rem cycle sleep. satoru was the total opposite of you. you needed well over 8 hours of sleep to function as a normal (and kind) human being. the first thing that sashisu learned about you was not to wake you up in the mornings. the two guys left shoko with that job when needed.

“sure, whatever you say, satoru.” suguru smiled, his eyes disappearing behind his sly grin, “so, you and (y/n) are…?”

satoru scoffed at his bestfriend’s bold assumption, “—we are just friends.”

there was no way in hell he was going to admit that he liked you without knowing if you liked him back.

suguru folded his arms, annoyed that he wasn’t going to get an answer out of his bestfriend, “uh huh, right—friends do not cuddle each other to sleep.”

satoru started to list actions that friends can totally do together, “well, shoko and (y/n) always have sleepovers, they hug and loop their arms together when they walk—and they’re just friends.”

suguru stated very clearly, “shoko doesn’t give (y/n) an arm pillow every night. and she doesn’t cuddle her just to be able to get some sleep either.”

“well, shoko hugs (y/n) and holds her hand. i don’t get to do that.” satoru barked back.

“you know, satoru… it’s starting to sound like you’re jealous of shoko.” suguru laughed, realizing that satoru definitely wanted to be more than just friends with you.

satoru shot a death glare at suguru, “—am not!”

later that night

“what did you and shoko do during class today?” satoru asked as he watched you brush your hair in your bathroom.

you hummed, “hmmm, shoko gave me some pointers on how to control my cursed energy so i could focus it into reversed cursed energy.”

“oh…” satoru mumbled, “i could’ve helped you with that.” he would never admit that he was jealous of his other bestfriend, shoko ieiri. he wondered what favors he'd have to do for yaga-sensei in order to get paired up with you for a mission again.

you giggled, “satoru, you can’t even heal yourself yet. how could you have helped me?”

“i would’ve found a way.” satoru said, dissatisfaction in his tone. he would have to get stronger and figure out this reversed cursed technique bullshit if he wanted you to stay by his side. he folded his arms across his chest as he sat in your bed, waiting for you to turn off the lights so he could sleep.

you took one last look in your bathroom mirror before turning off your bathroom light. you hopped onto your bed and crawled towards satoru. as you sat down next to him, you noticed that his face was turning pink, ears heating up to a crimson red—he was avoiding all eye contact with you.

“arm pillow, please.” you called out to him with a smile, ignoring his blushing face. you wondered what had gotten into him today.

he laid back and rested his head on your pillow, laying out his right arm for you. you nuzzled in between his chest and bicep. you turned to face him, his arm curling down your back.

“are you sure your arm doesn’t hurt at night?” you asked, patting his chest softly. he always teased you about waking up with a dead arm in the mornings.

“i’m sure.” satoru said softly, “i’m used to it.”

you lifted your head from his arm and glared at him, “used to it? do you give other girls arm pillows too or something?”

satoru rolled his eyes at you, removing his hand from your back to ruffle your neatly brushed hair.

“no, (y/n). you’re the only one.” he reluctantly admitted, “your big head is the only one to lay on my arm.”

you rolled your eyes before you gave him a self-satisfied smirk, attaching your head to his right arm again. that satoru gojo and his interesting way of flirting he always used to try to charm you. you wrapped your arm around his torso, holding him close to you.

the past week that satoru had spent sleeping next to you, he picked up on your interesting sleeping habits: you were usually the first to fall asleep between the two of you. you were a light sleeper. you preferred to sleep on your side (or on your stomach when you’re not curled up next to him). you grind your teeth in your sleep when you’re stressed (he found that out during your mission together). you snore when you’re exhausted (but you argue that you don’t). and lastly, whenever he would move away from you, you would always pull him back towards you.

within 5 minutes of shutting your eyes, you were out cold. satoru could tell by the way your breathing steadied and the way your cursed energy looked to his six eyes. a calm blue hue is what cursed energy looked like at a peaceful resting state.

tonight, satoru’s heart would not stop racing no matter how hard he tried to regulate his breathing. he thought he got used to sleeping next to you every night for the past week, but he was wrong. his thoughts about his feelings towards you was tormenting him inside.

satoru wished that he had the courage to try to be more upfront with you about his feelings. he wished that he could confidently hold your hand so that everyone knew you were his. he wished that he could hug you just because he wanted to. he wished that he could kiss you in hopes that you would kiss him back. this fear of not knowing how you felt about him crippled him.

how could the strongest sorcerer feel so weak in your presence?

he tilted his head towards yours. the scent of your orange hibiscus shampoo lingered in your hair, your head resting just below his chin. he slumped further down on your bed, trying his best not to move your ‘arm pillow’. like clockwork, he felt you unconsciously pull him back towards your body. satoru hoped that he wouldn't wake you up by all the moving around he was doing.

he sighed before he turned to face you. your lashes fluttering against the top of your cheek as he watched you inhale and exhale in your slumber.

how could one person look so beautiful while sleeping? this was so damn unfair.

satoru’s heart skipped a beat. was he really going to attempt to kiss you? hell, he was going to take a risk. he took a deep breath before leaning in to press a feather-light kiss on your forehead and then on the top of your head. the foreign feeling made you furrow your eyebrows in your sleep. he hoped that his pathetic attempt at a kiss wouldn’t wake you up. he wouldn’t know how to explain this to you if you woke up right this instance. he stroked your cheek with his palm before you immediately fell back into your sweet dream for the night.

and it was in that moment that satoru gojo hoped that one day, you could be his and all he dreamed of too.

EXTRA:

“was my hair all over the place or something last night?” you asked satoru as you watched him change out of his pajamas to throw on his school uniform.

satoru thought back to last night when he kissed your forehead and immediately blushed. he feigned ignorance, “not that i remember. why...?”

you connected your thumb and index finger to your chin. “hmmm, i swear i felt something tickling my forehead.”

satoru couldn’t hide his mischievous grin, “tickling your forehead, huh? i wonder what it could’ve been.”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 6 months

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why do so many people keep calling ed izzy's abuser? I thought it was kind of funny how wrong they were at first because I love being right but at this point I feel like, if you really believe that why do you even like this show? where the main love interest is a violently abusive indigenous man? that sounds boring as shit. what would possess the writers of the show for them to make such an awful decision?

but then I think, if this many people believe it does that mean I'm the one who's wrong? or is it that the creators fumbled that storyline when they should have been clearer about it? or maybe it's just that most people on here have had their reading comprehension scorched away by Sherlock Holmes conspiracy theories and Steven Universe discourse. I can't tell. sometimes I think the internet may have been a mistake.

No they're wrong here's what's going on. People all read this shitty fic called Hell or High Water where Ed was everything the Izzy stans say he was and then instead of realizing that Ed is sad everyone regressed into thinking that the Kraken Era TM was going to be incredibly violent, like serial killing blond men because they look like Stede levels of violence. Even if you didn't read HoHW you saw art or read fic from people who had engaged with this fic and succumbed to it's premise. So there's been this background radiation of misunderstanding what the Kraken is on the fandom for several months. So inevitably when Ed did some mild violence and then attempted suicide by threatening murder until the crew took matters into their own hands, which is not abuse or torture by any stretch, btw, it's a murder-suicide at worst (I say at worst because I consider it fuckery-suicide I don't think Ed was trying to kill people I think he was trying to force them into a situation where they thought it was kill or be killed so that they would choose to kill him, but that is my interpretation and you are free to think it's a botched murder-suicide I have no problem with that), which, murder is something the show has never condemned and if it did it would be horribly inconsistent. So anyway, Ed's whole Kraken Era was categorized in the show by him being sad and doing so many drugs and begging someone please god anyone to kill him and trying to break Ned Low's record out of the evil boredom, but because it had a murder-suicide element to it and Izzy's toes were getting removed and he waved a gun around at everyone once (in a way that felt to me like he was trying and failing to work up the nerve to blow his own brains out but I digress) people who liked HoHW and were mad that people had called it out were like "see hes being violent HoHW author vindicated" as if anything Ed did rose to the level of that fic

And you want to know how I know this read is bullshit? Because when I watch the show with people who don't read fic or interact with the fandom and then I gauge their reactions without showing my hand they all implicitly understand that Ed is reacting to Izzy in a way appropriate to how pirate captains react to threats from subordinates. The spectrum of reactions has been from "hey isn't it weird how Ed was the Kraken because his dad was abusive and now he's the kraken because of Izzy? Maybe there's something there but idk" to "I don't think you can apply the logic of domestic abuse to a pirate captain and first mate but also Izzy had it coming" to "I cannot feel bad for Izzy after last season, I'm sorry." To "lmao Izcel" and I've showed this show to roughly everyone I know. The only thing I can conclude from the fact that people who don't engage with OFMD fic almost unilaterally thinking that Izzy is in the wrong and then coming online to see people thinking the opposite is that Izzy as victim and Ed as abuser is pure fanon, like how Stede is a cinnamon roll who talks like Azeriphael.

But anyway yeah you're completely right about the fact that this would be a bad show if they decided to make Ed into a domestic abuser. I don't want to watch a rom com about a domestic abuser falling in love and I don't want a show that decided to make it's indigenous lead abusive when the stereotype of indigenous men as abusers is still to this day used as an excuse to separate indigenous children from their families and put them with white Christians in order to erase their culture. Good thing OFMD didn't make Ed abusive, so I still like the show.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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solomons-finest-rum · 1 year

Note

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days.

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic.

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie.

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant:

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly.

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy.

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in.

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

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ahegato · 10 days

Note

Hey ahegato! I hope you are well :) I've just discovered your account and I love your posts (especially the fill you up post and how they act around children which was so cute!!). I was wondering whether you could write about how the brothers and mains are like when its their first time with a female MC who had been a virgin?

I can't wait to read more of your posts!

author note: Oh my gosh, my first request, I’m so nervous and excited!! Pretty fitting that my first request is about something being the first time. I’m sooo sorry that it’s so late, I’ve been balls deep in other fandoms

SUPER IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: so I decided to do it like this, and I might keep doing that with all requests I receive: I’ll write for the characters requested, BUT I won’t post them all at the same time, or else you guys are gonna have to wait for like 84 years to get the finished product 😭

So instead I’ll post them all individually (UNLESS the headcanons are very short and don’t include fics) and just link the other ones in it when they get finished. that way you guys still get some kind of content every now and then!

[NSFW] Obey Me - fem!MC first time with Mammon

m.list

TW: nsfw, first time sex, loss of virginity, swearing Characters: Mammoney Writer: ahegato

Context: The MC would probably be pretty nervous since it’s the first time and stuff like that. Idk I lost my virginity when I was like 17 and now I’m really old, so I barely remember it. I just recall worrying about the pain while also knowing it was common, that’s about it lol

You/your pronouns, so basically gender neutral, bUT MC will have female bits.

Anyway, have an awesome day (that’s an order) and I hope you enjoy it!

MAMMON:

turns out that “bad boy mammon” is actually super romantic

huh who knew? literally everyone in the whole devildom

if you weren’t aware of how much of a softie he is, you clearly missed him in the entire story

when he finds out you’re a virgin, he gets a little excited

he’s really going to be your first man, huh?

mammon is incredibly nervous about your first time together

but instead of freezing up and not daring to do anything *cough* levi *cough*, he instead just gets reallllllly sensitive to touch

give him a handjob or oral, he’ll tremble and moan like a pornstar

really just kiss him and he won’t know what to do with himself

he wants you to be in control of the pace to be extra safe, so he’ll ask you to be on top

also because it’s hot, but he won’t tell you that (you’ll figure it out eventually anyway)

you start with both of you sitting up and you on his lap

will at some point take one of your hands and refuse to let go

if you cry from the pain, he’ll instantly go into comfort mode

wrapping his arms around you and stroke your back, telling you that you’re doing great and to just wait for a bit longer

he gets extremely lovey dovey and emotional when he’s about to finish, it’s so obvious that he wouldn’t even have to say anything for you to notice, but he still will

even after finishing, he won’t let go of you

doesn’t matter if you’re all sticky from the sweat, you’re his and he’s yours now

might as well be glued together, because he sure is acting like that’s the case

he feels very embarrassed afterwards because he’s not used to being so vulnerable, so pls reassure him

As you finally sink down onto him, he lets out a long, breathy, high-pitched moan. His nails are pressing into your waist, not so hard to draw blood but enough to turn you on even more. The way you’re squeezing him while sitting on his lap, your hands on his shoulders to support yourself, is addictive. But despite that, what’s taking up the most space in his mind is the love he’s feeling for you, as cheesy as it sounds, and the intimate moment you’re experiencing together. He almost gets a little teary at the thought. However, he gets snapped out of it when you begin to move, lifting yourself off of him before sinking back down again, and he lets out a surprised groan. He looks down between your bodies, watching as his cock disappears into you, moaning at the sight. His hands on your waist travel down to your hips, assisting you in your movements. He never wants to let go of you, and he pulls you closer, leaning over to breathe in your scent, causing his dick to twitch inside of you. Mammon has no shame at this point, he’ll bare his neck for you to bite and suck on. If you don’t get the point he’ll literally beg for it, and if he walks out of there without even a single mark, he’ll whine like a baby. He wants physical proof that he’s yours and you’re his. If you let him mark you, he’ll moan long and high-pitched as he does it. If you mark him, he’s legit whimpering and twitching underneath you. He’s drowning in you, kissing any part of your body that he can reach, meeting your movements with his own, and sometimes just gazing at you with a look of pure love. “MC I... I love you... I love you so much...” he huffs, pulling you as close to him as possible. He looks you in the eyes, mere inches away from each other. “I...I’m about to cum...” As he finally gets pushed over the edge, he sinks you down onto his cock as far as he can, holding onto you tightly as he whimpers words of affection in your ear. Once he’s down from his high, the memories of what he said and did return to his brain, and he gets super flustered. “I-I did not just say all that, ya hear me? Don’t tell anyone!” he stutters, suddenly all worried about this so-called reputation. “Of course I won’t tell anyone! But you did say all that, and I loved it.” you reply with a smile. “Y-you did?” the demon asks, looking back at you with a surprised expression on his face. “Of course I did! I loved seeing this side of you, and I love you.” The blush on his cheeks intensifies, but the demon visibly relaxes, a smile forming on his face in return. He cuddles up to you, fully intending to hold you hostage in his bed for the rest of the night.

✦ 30/11/2023 (Im so sorry lmao) - 16/04/2024 ✦ ahegato ✦

#headcanons #obey me mammon #om! mammon #mammon x reader #mammon #smut #mammon smut #mammoney #obey me #obey me shall we date

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darling-i-read-it · 1 year

Text

Stu w/ a hyperfemine reader

Stu Macher x reader

Author's Note: I'm trying a newwwww style <3 I think that having stuff like this being a mix of headcanons and scenes! mini fics and such. lemme know what you guys think and I hope you like it love! Thanks for being my guinea pig lol

Request: i’m hyperfixating on scream cuz 6 just came out and your list says you write for it so can i plz request stu macher x hyperfeminine!reader fluff like they’re kinda opposites attract type thing idk lol 😊😊

Meeting Stu in the typically girly girl attire with that perky smile on your face was like sending him straight over the moon

He watched you, eyeing you up and down, curious and over telling

You weren’t even talking to him but it was like you were there for him. Or maybe he was just being obsessive. He was probably just being obsessive.

Stu was the kind of guy who dated someone for fun, because he knew that it worked within a friend group or because of sheer popularity. It was usually never because he loved them.

Though lets be fair. The first time he saw you he was not thinking about love. There was something so dear to him about your eyes lighting up as you cheeirly moved about the friend group

You seemed to be a friend of Sidney’s, which worked well in his favor. After things ended the summer before with Tatum Sidney had all but forgiven him for their little fling

Maybe, if Stu tried hard enough…Sidney could give him the number of her friend. You. He wants your number. He should probably ask Billy who could probably ask Stu.

Lots going on in his brain <3 so much <3

Him getting you alone for the first time is such a fun little time it’s so good

His smile widened as he approached you. Now that Sidney and Billy had left he could talk to you by himself, without her getting in the way. You were sitting on a fountain near the school, still smiling from the goodbyes you had given to your friend. He scooted closer to you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said, nudging your side. You rolled your eyes. You knew of him. Sidney had told you plenty. Though his eyes were alluring and you were all too happy to oblige that look.

“I think you have,” you promised.

“I would’ve remembered.”

“I’ve been Sidney’s friend forever.”

“Well I’ve been Billy’s friend forever. Not Sidney’s,” he explained. You narrowed your eyes at him, a smile on your face. He pointed at the skirt you were wearing, a fluff of pink at the bottom. “That’s pretty.”

You noted that he said pretty. He didn’t say cute or girly. You smiled gratefully.

“Thank you Stu. I like to flaunt my femininity.”

“I love flaunting femininity.”

Dating Stu is like…there’s always gonna be someone touching you. Even when you think he isn’t in the room BOOM there’s Stu and his hands on your sides

He loves everything about the hyperfemininity. He would play into it as much as you let him. He would buy you things you desired (while also being fully aware he’s being a bit of a dick when he points it out)

He probably makes awful jokes about your femininity linking to your ‘natural woman desires’

He made one joke about cooking and cleaning and you hit him with your bag.

He was very offended. He also didn’t really wanna mention it again (so he didn’t thank goodness)

Sidney didn’t particularly like that you were together but she didn’t hate it either

She thought your energies matched rather well (she was unaware that Stu Macher could kill someone in cold blood)

But the high intensity of Stu always needed someone who could tame it or feed into it

He found that he adored your very natural brightness

“Hey Stu?” He had his hand on your thigh but he wasn’t paying attention to you until you spoke.

“Yeah sweetheart?” You sat on your bed, watching some scary movie he had showed you. You had no quarrels with it but you weren’t truly watching it. He always seemed enthralled and you could usually flip through a magazine unbothered but still together, a quiet understanding.

“Are you aware that you’re cuddling my little piggy?” He squinted, not sure what kind of joke you were making until he noticed he was cuddling your actual stuff pig. It was fluffy and large enough to be a pillow.

He didn’t move away when he noticed. In fact, he pulled it closer to his chest with his arm that wasn’t on you.

“Not your piggy anymore.”

“Stu!” You reached forward to grab it but he pulled away, now clutching it with boht hands. You giggled. You attempted to reach around him but with laughter he fought you off. You giggled together until you were laying on top of him, the pig between you.

He made a pouty face at you.

It usually caused the both of you to be the life of the party

Billy thinks it’s rather annoying. Double annoying for the plans that he has for Stu and him

Whenever Stu was with you it was like it never mattered, what Billy had planned

Well he still wanted to kill someone

But that was beside the point. He wanted to hang out with you and live his life with you. He didn’t quite know what he would be without that.

You caught glimpses of that sometimes, when his face drifted off or when a joke Billy made landed a little wrong

But he never made it seem too overt

He was always more willing to talk to you about other things. Compliment your outfits, exist within the constraints of your room or his

It was actually really sweet <3

Always the boyfriend (even if he’s the boyfriend who always has a stupid reason to kill his gf i guess!)

“Sweetheart. You’re a sweetheart.”

“Thanks Stu.”

“You are. You’re my sweetheart.”

“Oh Stu.”

He looked down at you, poking your nose, smiling brightly, eyes narrowed in adoration.

“You look really good in pink.”

#stu macher x reader #stu macher imagines #stu x fem!reader #scream imagines #ghostface x reader #ghostface x fem!reader

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olderthannetfic · 8 months

Note

protip for leaving kind comments on a story that isn't well written: find something they're doing better than everything else. are they putting more effort into descriptions? comment on that. say, "wow, you really made things so vivid!" that's step one. step two—AND THIS IS THE BIG ONE—say, "i can't wait to see where you go from here!" i can't speak for everyone, of course, but i speak from experience: when i was still a teenager, i found fic for a SUPER rarepair of mine (jak/daxter from jak and daxter/the jak series) and went insane. i commented on every fic the author wrote. i adored them.

they whined in the notes about not being able to find other fic for the ship and how much they always loved what they found. naturally, being a young fic writer and full of self-confidence, i started writing fic for the ship. it is not good fic, objectively, and was a clear ripoff of the artist's biggest AU.

they commented on every single jak/daxter thing i wrote. they pointed out things they liked (notably, characterization! which is My Thing, now that i'm almost 30). i wrote so, so much after that, because that author was so incredibly kind. and i HAVE improved.

POINT IS, it wasn't just that they commented. it's that they always said they were excited for more. to this day, i want to write fic they'll like! (working on it, lol. have been tinkering with a plot bunny for something like five years, because i want it to be Accurate.) IDK, i just really think the "can't wait to see more" comments made me push myself so hard to be better. cranking out easy fic is one thing; pushing yourself to be better is another, and it's addicting.

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 7 months

Text

Love Bites (But you don’t mind) (Yandere!Vampire!Wanda Maximoff/Yandere!Vampire Queen!Scarlet Witch x willing!lesbian!simp!female!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: Most people would probably find spending eternity with a vampire-superwitch to be frightening.

But here’s the thing? You’re not most people. And she is gorgeous.

(CW: Blood, (I mean, it’s a vampire fic so that’s kind of a given) blood-sucking, idk what else, reader being a simp I guess. )

Author’s Note: I’m back, I’m gay, and you simps wanted this and more. Honestly if this keeps up, I might as well make it its own series/category.

Reader is 18+.

The vampire queen stands over your unconscious body; she hasn’t taken blood yet, but she’s taken a liking to you. Her dark hair flows in the wind that blows throughout her castle.

“Such a sweet little thing,” she sighs as she sits on the edge of the bed next to you. “Fate has finally brought us together, and I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

She brushes a soft hand over your cheek, and you begin to stir. Her heart skips a beat as your eyes flutter open. Wait, this isn’t your bedroom.

“What the...?” you groan. “Where the hell am I?”

“Your new home.”

You look to see probably the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. Your sweet little lesbian heart is pounding as your eyes widen, and it’s not just to let in more light.

“My...huh?”

Wanda smiles as she cups your cheek.

“When I first saw you....you took over my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I had to have you to myself. Don’t even think about running away. I know the ins and outs of this castle--”

“Wait, wait wait wait.....” You’re confused. “You actually think I want to escape?”

Now she’s the confused one.

“Well....yes. That’s how most people act around a vampire queen superwitch.”

That makes you pause.

“Wait, you’re a vampire queen and a superwitch and you’re gorgeous as hell? Damn, now I never wanna leave!”

She’s at a loss for words as you hug onto her.

“Mommy....” you sigh excitedly. “Oh mommy......please bite me. Take all the blood you want. Fuck it, drain me dry!”

“....Wha...what?”

You tilt your head to one side and point to your exposed neck.

“Right here, my neck and my blood are all yours.”

“...Is this.....is this a joke?”

“Mommy, I would never joke about you taking my blood. Oh wait! Should I eat or drink something to make it sweeter? Do you like fruity blood? I’ve got plenty.”

Wanda laughs in a mixture of shock, endearment, awe.

“Sweet little (y/n), are you serious about not leaving me?”

“Deadass.” There’s no hesitation from you. “You could drain me dry and my last words would be ‘thank you, my queen.’“

Wanda’s face flushes scarlet.

“You....really want me to drink your blood?”

“Please?” There’s a begging tone on your voice. “My neck is ready!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please!”

Wanda has to take a moment to recover.

“Do you want me to hypnotize you so you don’t feel the pain?”

“No, please. Just....I wanna feel it.”

That’s....unexpected. But she’s not gonna complain.

“Alright then.” Her voice drops to a low, husky whisper, running a chill down your spine as she gently places her hands on your shoulders. What a sweet, delicate thing you are. Despite you wanting to feel it, she still wants to be gentle. Her fangs grow in and she decides on a halfway point of plunging her fangs right in and slowly biting in.

You feel the fangs in your neck as she begins to take your blood.

“You have such delicious and sweet blood.” Wanda’s voice purrs in your mind in a low whisper. “The best I’ve ever had; such a delectable blend of fruit. It’s addicting.”

“Take all you wish,” you sigh happily.

“Oh, sweet girl; I don’t wish to drain you dry, though. I want you as my precious princess; I can’t have you that way if you’re dead, and I can’t drink your blood if you’re a vampire....perhaps I could make you an immortal human.”

Your eyes light up at this idea.

“Yes, yes, please! I wanna spend eternity with you, mommy!”

“Very well....once I finish drinking this delightful blood of yours, I shall make you immortal, my precious (y/n).”

You begin to feel giddy, and you’re not sure if it’s from joy or lightheadedness, but you’re fine with either. Once she removes her fangs, she notices that you look a little pale.

“Oh dear,” she sighs. “It would seem I took too much. Shall we rest together?”

With a sweet, lovestruck smile on your face, you nod, making Wanda giggle.

“What an adorable princess you are.” She conjures up some first-aid supplies and cleans up the bite marks to avoid infection before giving you a large glass of water, helping you drink it before laying you down on the bed. She lays next you, pure love in her eyes.

“I can’t wait to spend eternity with you, sweet (y/n).”

She brings you close, causing you to snuggle up with her. Are you never gonna get to see the outside world again? Probably not. But hey, you have a loving vampire queen/superwitch girlfriend, so the way you see it....

Eternity just got a million times better.

#yandere wanda maximoff #yandere scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #Scarlet Witch #here you are lesbian simps #vampire scarlet witch #vampire wanda maximoff #avengers #yandere avengers

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omniscient-wanderer-of-worlds · 1 year

Text

Strength | Banda Sunato

Pairing: Banda Sunato x Fem!Reader

Author's note: Hi, my exams are not over yet haha, but I'll just drop this here for those interested.

I try to make it readable as a standalone fic but there is a part 1 and (part 2).

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Weird relationship (it's Banda, a serial killer), Violence? (Still aib), potential spelling/grammar mistakes? And soft Banda idk, suggestive themes but no mature content

Summary: Banda Sunato takes his girl to the Jack of Hearts game and is impressed by her strength.

---------------------------------------

You were falling. A pit formed in your stomach from the suddden height difference you were experiencing and it left you wondering if this is what one of those attractions at the amusement park felt like. You only knew that people descibed it as moving down in the elevator and felt that this was indeed an accurate analogy.

You hadn’t willingly dropped youself off the edge of the building, but were trying to escape the other player who had tried to steal your key and you fiercly hoped Banda knew that as well. Well, you weren’t really in any danger anyway, you thought to yourself. Luck is always on your side, right?

And sure enough, your dress got caught by a street light hanging from the side of the building, which slowed down your fall. You threw a glance beneath you and sighed at the moment of impact. A convenient a trash container filled with soft trash bags allowed you to survive without a scratch again.

“Thanks”, you said out loud to no one in particular.

You looked around. Now the real issue is going to be trying to get out of the container and back into the building without touching the floor. Though you had faith in your unrealistic luck, you knew the rules of the game and were not going to test your luck either.

The main problem was that someone did take away the key that you had to find, meaning you had to find another one if you wanted to leave the premise alive again.

And just as you thought about it, a key fell into your lap. You couldn't help but laugh. Someone up there was really overdoing it huh. It's kind getting unfair at this point, you thought amusedly right before a rope dropped into your lap.

You looked up in surprise. “Sunato!” You happily exclaimed when you saw his head hanging out the window.

“There’s four minutes left, hurry up and tie it around your waist.”

“I knew I’d be fine,” was the first this that left your mouth when Banda pulled you inside through the window. His hands stayed in a firm grip around your wrist but he shrugged.

“I know. You wouldn’t leave me.” He stated in a whisper in your ear when he leaned in to undo the knot in the rope around your waist.

“Where did you get this new key from? Did you find it or steal it?” You couldn’t help but ask. He smiled. “Whichever makes you sleep better tonight.” He answered humorously, looking down on you. You swatted his chest with a frown.

“Not the old lady though, right?”

“No, that would upset you.” He reassured you.

You huffed and grabbed his hand. “You better know it.”

He lead you out the room the same way he got in. Across several chairs, a table, a matrass laying on the floor, a dead body that you recognised as the guy who stole your key, and then onto the handrail of the stairs to slide to the floor below.

You held your breath and pulled up your feet, careful to not let the strange synthetic material of the game-specific shoes go within an inch of the floor where you could see a sheen of red light of lasers.

You didn’t really know what this relationship was between you and Banda, you realised while walking away from the game venue in silence, still hand in hand with him. You were partners, as he called it. He’d made it pretty clear two months ago that you were to stay by his side because you were his. In return he kept his promise and introduced a variety of things to you. Lots of things happened in the past two months and despite everything, you stayed.

Even after getting the opportinity to leave when you were both taken to some warehouse by the brother of one of Banda’s victims in the real world. The unknown man had let you go after beating you up and ‘confirming’ that you were just Banda’s next victim. You’d played along, walking out with a relieved face and then came back with a gun. You weren’t planning on killing anyone, just wanted to scare them.

When Banda was released however, he had ripped the gun from your hands, turned you to face him to pull you into a kiss, and pulled the trigger. You’d been upset with him for a while and he'd sworn to you that he had only killed the guy for your sake.

Everything was for you. Killing the innocent lady because she was slowing everyone down, including you. Killing the two creepy men because he sensed that they made you uncomfortable. Killing the person that tried to stab him, not for attempted murder on him, because that person tried to take him away from you.

In a sick way, it made you feel safe and cared for. So of course you stayed. And though you weren’t sure of what your relationship with Banda was exactly, you were happy, you decided.

You were slumped half on top of him, your face in the crook of his neck. He had one arm wrapped around you while the other was drawing circles on your bare back. “Why is it so noisy outside?” you grumbled.

Gunshots? No, it's more... sparkly. After taking a moment to let your brain wake up as well, you sat up straight. “Is that firework?” You asked Banda, and glanced down at him to see that he was enjoying looking at your chest. You covered yourself with your arms and opened your mouth to repeat the question when he answered.

“Someone cleared the 10 of hearts game. They announced that the next stage of face cards will start at 12 noon tomorrow.” His eyes flickered across your face and he was pleased to note your excitement which matched his own.

You jumped up from the bed and ran to the window to admire the fireworks lighting up the sky. The view from this hightower apartment was perfect. “Sunato, do I get to pick the first game?” You asked and pleadingly looked at him.

He’d gotten up as well and was standing behind you, chest pressed to your back. “Which one interests you?” He asked before he dipped his head down to your neck to start a trail of kisses. His lips curled up in a smile when you responded.

“We could start with a jack of hearts.”

You slept until you heard loud bangs. This time it was gunshots for sure. Banda looked alert and you quickly slipped on a new unripped dress while Banda went to grab a knife from the kitchen. When you looked to your left, you saw a card move by. The king of spades?

You made the mistake of walking towards the window and looked out it. Before you could even register the enormous blimp moving past the building, you were met with a barrage of bullets.

Despite having closed your eyes, moved your arms in front of your face and having ducked, your eyes were stinging with pain.

Banda, who heard the gunshots, followed by your screams, ran in while avoiding bullets and grabbed you under your arms. He proceeded to practically drag you across the floor to another room.

Banda grabbed your face despite your whimpering. There was glass in your hair and you had gashes all over your face. Some were quite deep like the one across your eyelids with more pieces of glass stuck inside them. Blood was dripping from your wounds into your eyes.

He quickly scanned you up and down to check for bullet wounds andd when he found none, he shook his head in relief. He then chuckled. Despite everything, your dress was still spotless.

"My eyes feel like they're getting stabbed", you choked out.

Banda nodded, not that you'd be able to see it, and went to wipe your face clean as best as he could. The king of spades had stopped firing at the apartment. He probably moved on to find new targets.

Banda opened your eyes forcibly and saw that they were bloodshot. You jerked your head out of his grasp and clamped your eyes shut again.

The gash on your eyelid had reopened when you opened your eyes and blood started seeping into your eyes again.

"I'm going to wrap bandages around your head. Keep your eyes close." He instructed and you did as he told you. "It's going to be alright though, isn't it Sunato?" You asked, trying to get some reassurance.

"I'm not a doctor." He said. Well there goes faith.

Unbothered Banda continued. "We need to make way towards the jack of hearts venue. We'll be safe from the king of spades there."

You shook your head. "I can't see though, I'm going to be a bother." You felt him grasp your hand and he pulled you up.

"I promised you that you're safe with me. Trust me." He said. "This just makes things more interesting, alright?"

You thought about it for a moment. "Well if you put it like that," you laughed. "I guess you're right. It's a new experience for sure."

Banda sqeezed your hand in agreement and as if to say he was impressed by your ability to stay strong. Your hold onto his hand tightened as he lead you to the streets in the direction of the blimp wiith the jack of hearts card.

Even though you'd seen death before and weren't nearly as bothered by it as you should be, he found comfort in the fact that you couldn't see the scattered bodies across the street.

"Are we there?" you asked. The two of you had stopped walking. "What does it look like."

"It's a prison. This will make for an interesting game." He said and you could hear him smirk. Banda pulled you along. "Let's go."

The voice registered you two entering and started giving out instructions. Despite the bandages that covered your eyes, the phone was still able to go through with facial recognition.

With the collars in place, you and Banda moved up to the central area.

"Guess the suit on the back of your collar after each round." The voice explained and you whipped your head into Banda's direction. "I will try to open my eyes and tell you your suit." You immediately said to him.

"No". He immediately interjected. "It's going to be fine. You're a human lucky charm after all."

You nodded your head and listened to the rest of the explainations of the game. When it ended, people immediately started to group up and you were starting to get anxious again. How was Banda going to guess his suit correctly?

Just as you were stressing about it, a voice behind you interrupted your thought process.

"She can't tell you your suit so I'll tell you yours if you tell me mine."

You frowned and were about to ask him who he thinks he is for adressing Banda so directly and impolitely, but Banda spoke up before you could.

He let go of your hand and stepped forwards to what you guessed was the new guy. Though you disliked the guy's tone, you hoped Banda would accept his help as he needed someone to tell him his suit. You released your breath when he did.

Banda introduced you as his partner and the guy introduced himself as Matsushita. They told you your suit and started to tell eachother their suits.

"I'm going to get something to eat" you announced and put a few steps into a random direction when you realised you had no idea where you were walking to. It had been a while since you've been this helpless, you thought to yourself bitterly. So when Banda put his hand on your lower back to guide you, you snapped at him. Annoyed because it reminded you of your life before the borderlands. Always men in suits guiding you back inside the building, watching your every move.

"I'm sorry Sunato" you immediately apologized afterwards. "I wanna go on my own." You explained and he seeemed to understand. "Follow the wall to your left. Keep going straight." He simply replied. You nodded and walked off.

"These cookies are really good." You heard coming from beside you. You hadn't realised you sat down at a table next to someone else. You felt the stranger push a package of cookies in your hand.

"Thanks." You said, gratefully.

Thinking about it, you hadn't actually conversed with anyone in the past month except for Banda.

You nodded his way as a thank you and got up. Before you could leave the room, he called after you. "You should disinfect those wounds. Wash out your eyes and get rid of the glass. It's also better not to cover your eyes with a bandage, let it breathe." Chishiya didn't know why he said that. Maybe because you seemed familiar. He'd ponder about that one for a while.

You followed his advise and had Banda help you. It benefited you to walk around without bandages because you were able to discern light and dark.

When the hour passed, Banda walked you to a cell. "Sunato" you called to him. "See you in a moment." You felt a pat on your head in response.

"Well then, please state your suit."

You sighed relaxedly. You trusted Banda so this was easy for you. "Diamond."

For a second nothing happened and then the door behind you buzzed. You stepped back, stumbled over your own feet and fell the the floor. "Fuck" you whispered as you got up and hopped on your right leg while you clutched your left ankle.

The door behind you was ripped open. Before you could turn around and ask who it was, you felt Banda hold you. His heart was beating fast and you realised you must've worried him by not exiting immediately.

"I knew I'd be fine." You said and turned around to him. "You wouldn't leave me."

Banda grabbed you by your neck, pressed his lips against yours aggressively and pushed you against the wall, his other hand on the back of your head to brace the impact.

You reciprocated the kiss and wrapped your arms around him, while his moved and lifted your dress up. His hands roamed your body and finally settled on your sides, pressing himself against you.

Matsushita had seen Banda rush in your cell and was now patiently waiting outside for the both of you. He jumped at the sounds that came from inside, and when he looked through the small gap in the door which confirmed his suspicions, his eyes widened before immediately averting them and hurrying away.

'So they're partner-partners', he thought to himself, and he shook his head, trying to shake the image away.

#banda sunato #sunato banda #sunato banda x reader #banda sunato x reader #banda fic #banda x reader #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #sunato x reader #fanfic #jack of hearts #aib #aib imagined #banda sunato imagines #banda sunato x you #sunato banda x you #aib x you #aib s2

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campgender · 2 months

Note

i was scrolling your “life is in your home too” tag, which I love btw, and saw a post about how you learned to be a good dom from experienced expert doms by reading how they dom and some of their best scenes, do you think you could point me in the direction of some resources for me to study that too? thanks in advance, if not, thanks anyway!

(post referenced is here - link 1)

first of all tysm for this ask (+ your incredibly kind follow-up), it was a delight to receive + i’ve been wanting an excuse to talk about a lot of this for a while so i very much appreciate the interest!

as always please keep in mind that i am Just Some Fem, nothing is universal including when it comes to D/s & i can only speak to what works for me. i try to focus on starting points rather than specifics but ultimately my advice will always be limited by what i needed to hear & wasn’t told, which may not be what’s helpful for a different person. with that being said, here’s some suggestions!

i’ve posted a previous reading list (link 2) with relevant recs; particularly the practicality + sex writing sections have the kind of thing you’re looking for. specifically, The New Topping Book (2003) is a solid starting point; i definitely have my issues with it (haven’t read it recently enough to recall many specifics but i have the sense of general pervasive racism & ableism) but it did a good job at making me think & i appreciate the supportive tone they were going for

another book added to my tbr since then is Coming to Power (link 3), released by SAMOIS in 1983

other authors whose sex writing has been influential in my life: Sandra Cisneros, Natalie Diaz, Joan Nestle, Judy Grahn

the fic At The End of His Rope by Letterblade (link 4) is genuinely some of my favorite sex writing of all time & accomplishes the incredibly impressive feat of representing a broad array of dom styles & changes over time in the same piece

my “impurity culture” tag (link 5) houses the building blocks of my sexual ethic

i’ve found many of those foundations by poking around the incredible bodies of work original & archived @newsmutproject @woman-loving @gatheringbones

for me, studying sex is the same as studying poetry – reading for craft is a different process than for pleasure (not that there isn’t a great deal of pleasure to be found in such practice, especially for sadists – perhaps that’s why as a child i never resonated with Billy Collins’ “Introduction to Poetry,” like i love tying poems to chairs & beating them idk what to tell you). so, keeping in mind that these are suggestions not requirements, here’s how i read for + work on craft:

there is no such thing as too much journaling. this can take whatever form you prefer – voice memo, discord message to yourself, the noble notes app, your own personal sexy red string corkboard, a vast & stunning array of other approaches i can’t even begin to imagine. i personally have an elaborate web of spreadsheets & google docs lmao. what matters is developing a collection of ideas you want to play with + a practice of continually reflecting on past experiences.

pay attention to structure, not just content. find a scene you think is disjointed and pick at the seams, brainstorm better transitions. then find a scene that flows so smoothly it carries you with it and figure out what makes it work.

rewrite a scene you’re drawn to or affected by to suit your own preferences. i first did this when i couldn’t shake “Interlude 3” (link 6) from my head after reading The New Topping Book; you can read my variation on the theme here (link 7) if you’re interested.

write or think through a scene fantasy you have from negotiation to aftercare. obviously it’s very difficult if not impossible to fully script a scene in advance; the purpose isn’t planning something you’ll later do but rather getting used to coming up with ideas to get from one disparate moment / act to the next.

revisit a scene you’ve read, written, thought about, etc and list the physical & mental acts that are required / expected of the sub (eg, kneeling for 10 minutes; making eye contact; counting to 30, etc). then rework the scene for a sub who has the same interests & goals who cannot do 20% (or 50%, or any) of these acts.

revisit a previous scene and list the places where you think a sub might safeword & why. then rework it with the sub safewording somewhere that isn’t any of these places.

i also recommend keeping in mind that like… for me, reading about ethical sex can often be a very distressing process for the same reason that it’s liberating: because it proves that things i’ve experienced are not the way sex has to be. i’ll tell this story in its fullness one day but the first time i read S/HE by Minnie Bruce Pratt i literally had a flashback to events i’d repressed for years, it was devastating, i’m so grateful for it. hell, in the process of compiling resources for this post i cried twice editing this quote (link 8) because between reading that book the first time & now someone did “respond with scorn or ridicule” when i safeworded. so i would really encourage folks to approach this kind of work with as much grace & comfort for yourself as you can muster or borrow – if it’s really fucking hard, you’re not alone in that, & it’s okay to take your time + pace yourself + seek support.

your + others’ interest is definitely motivating me to actually write posts i’ve been tossing around for months so thank you again & feel free to keep an eye out for more shut-in sex tips in my new “tomorrow sexting will be good again” tag. would love to hear your thoughts on any of this post / these or other books / whatever really lol. wishing you all the best & i hope today is kind to you! 💓

#asks #D/s #reading lists #mac.txt #tomorrow sexting will be good again

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bonesandthebees · 28 days

Note

Hi Bee!

I really admire your work and I'm currently attempting to write my own fic, and I'd love to have some advice on writing stuff.

1) Do you have any tips for writing the beginning of a fic? I cannot figure out how to start writing with a decent sentence. It all falls apart when my fingers go on the keyboard.

2) Do you have any tips for pacing/plot/outlining? I still have barely figured out what pacing is, because I cannot tell when authors are like "oh I don't like this because I rushed the pacing". I literally can't tell most of the time, unless there is not any space to breathe between things that happen.

3) Do you have tips for writing surroundings and the parts of the paragraph that aren't dialogue? Like. How do I naturally fit the description of the area into the fic? And how do I naturally fit extra commentary into a paragraph that has dialogue in it, especially when it isn't the pov character's dialogue?

Again, adore your writing. I feel kind of awkward since I've never done an ask before; idk if there's some kind of etiquette.

Hope you're doing well!

-Royal :)

hi sorry it's taken me a bit to answer this one! I'm more than happy to give some advice!

okay so first off, writing the first line of a fic is borderline torture sometimes. it's so fucking hard. to me though it's kind of like jumping into a cold pool. you can stare at the water thinking about how cold it's going to be and how unsure you are, but then at some point you have to bend your legs and jump before you can overthink it or else you'll never do it. you have to just put something down for the first line.

one method I like employing when I'm really struggling is starting with a line of dialogue. it instantly throws the reader into the scene as they have to try and find out who is talking, what they are talking about, and where everyone is. an example where I used this is in the stars and their children, which opens with a line from tommy "Hey Wil, can you hand me the epli?" this tells us multiple things right off the bat. it establishes a character present in the scene (Wil) and that there's something different about this world from ours (epli—it makes the reader want to know what it is and why it's being handed to the character speaking)

other times I try to either start with a line that describes the setting ("The streets were crowded at this time of day." - everything else has gone wrong), or start with a line that describes the emotions of the pov character ("Lessons were the most unbearable in the afternoon." - under the hanging rose). basically, you're trying to find a way to throw the reader into the scene in one line. it's difficult, but try any of those angles and hopefully you'll think of something that fits. but again, it's jumping into a cold pool. you just have to put something down so you can start. you can always go back and change it later

okay putting the other two under a read more bc it got long

2. okay now pacing. that's a bit more difficult to help with because a lot of pacing is just getting a feel for it. one way is to just think about it logically. say you have two characters that start as strangers and you want to get them to be best friends. you can show them meeting for the first time, but then you often have to show them bonding before they can reach best friend status. there's pacing here both in the literal world of the story, but also in the text itself. you don't want to write them hanging out for a few hours and suddenly decide they're best friends (although ofc there are exceptions to this like if they're little kids bc, well, that is a thing little kids do where they'll declare a kid they just met their best friend), nor do you want to write them meeting for the first time, write a line saying "they hung out every day for the next three weeks until they were best friends" and then just act as though they're besties (again, there are exceptions to this in specific cases). it just feels weird yknow? It doesn't get the reader invested in this relationship because it doesn't feel like it's been earned. it's a similar thing with plot beats. you have to make it feel natural both in the world of the story itself, but also the timing with which you tell the story. like I said though, pacing is really something you just get the hang of naturally with practice. reading published novels will help as well because it'll help you get a sense of what good pacing feels like.

3. ohhhh you've hit a specific issue I had a lot when I was younger. when you have a dialogue scene going on there's a lot of ways you can balance the text outside the dialogue. ofc if the dialogue is going by at rapid speed, you can straight up just do the dialogue lines and you don't even have to specify who's talking if it's clear within the text

Ex:

"You can't come to my nuclear reactor, Tommy," Tubbo sighed.

Tommy scowled. "What the fuck? Why not?"

"Knowing you you'd find a way to cause a nuclear meltdown."

"Would not."

"Would to."

"Would not."

"Would to!"

"So what, you're a bitch who can't handle a little radiation?"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

see how after the first two lines of dialogue where I established who is talking in which order, I stop using the tags all together? it's still clear who is talking because the dialogue is ping ponging back and forth. it's a fast-paced conversation, so cutting out the tags helps that effect.

but of course this is only the case in a few instances. most of the time, you do need lines outside dialogue not only to establish who is talking, but also to keep the characters present in the scene itself.

you have several options for what to include outside your dialogue. one of my go to's is always character actions.

"Don't you have one of those swimming pools you keep the nuclear shit in?" Tommy asked, leaning against the wall.

Tubbo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes but before you ask, no, you can't go swimming in it."

there we include the action of tommy leaning against a wall after he asks the question, which is followed by tubbo pinching the bridge of his nose. this lets the reader see exactly what each character is doing, which can also establish the emotions each character is feeling without saying them outright. tommy is comfortable enough with tubbo to annoy him with his questions, which we see by him casually leaning against the wall. tubbo, meanwhile, is annoyed just like tommy wants, which we see by him pinching the bridge of his nose.

characters sitting down, standing up, wringing their hands in front of them, folding their arms over their chest, shrugging, curling their hands into fists, etc. are all examples of character actions you can include to give the reader the ability to picture the scene more accurately

then of course you have thought process and scenery description you can include as well. thought process is just including what your pov character is thinking as the conversation progresses.

"Yes but before you ask, no, you can't go swimming in it."

Tommy huffed and folded his arms over his chest. Tubbo was so fucking boring these days with his 'safety rules'. He'd nearly been nuked before and was fine! A little radiation wasn't going to hurt him.

that right there is a glimpse into what's going on in tommy's head at that moment. he's frustrated with his friend because he thinks he'd be fine swimming in the nuclear pool. it gives us more insight into the pov character and how they're reacting to the conversation at hand.

then for scenery description:

Silence fell over them as Tommy glared at Tubbo. Tubbo glared back, refusing to budge. Around them, the snow coating the ground glittered in the afternoon sunlight. Clouds of breath puffed in front of Tommy's face. An icy breeze wound between the buildings, making goosebumps rise along his arms. He tugged his sleeves down, still not breaking eye contact with his friend.

the conversation falls silent for a moment, so we take a moment to step back from the two characters. we look at the setting around us, which emphasizes the pause in dialogue and makes it feel quiet even to us as the readers. you don't have to restrict your scenery description to moments where a conversation takes a pause, but taking a step back gives a sense of a 'silence' to the reader even if it's brief. another example of this could be,

"Don't bullshit me, Tubbo. Why won't you let me see it?" Tommy asked after several long beats.

Clenching his jaw, Tubbo's eyes flickered to the ground. The snow beneath their boots was muddied. Tommy spotted a dead worm frozen against the hard earth.

Then, Tommy understood.

"You don't trust me anymore."

now let's see this a different way

"Don't bullshit me, Tubbo. Why won't you let me see it?" Tommy asked after several long beats. "You don't trust me anymore."

see how without all that extra description the pause feels much shorter? and with that shorter pause the weight of Tommy's next sentence loses it's emotional impact?

if you want to add scenery description to a dialogue exchange, imagine it like it's a movie. you have two characters that are talking, and suddenly the camera pans away from them to look at the setting around them. why does it do that? what effect does it have on the scene playing out? your words are the camera zooming in and out on the characters. there are a lot of ways you can use this 'camera' to change the rhythm/flow of a scene. you just have to play around with it to figure out how to use it

I hope that's helpful!

#bones writes #ask #royallygray #also sorry for the half-assed clingyduo scene that's not from a fic or anything i just came up with that on the spot while writing this

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krash-and-co · 6 months

Text

OK KERMIT VS KIPPS FICLET

I am so sorry (not really) idk what happened to me (I have always been insane)

as usual vote kipps in @favcharacterpoll !!!

fic under cut. and yes, the title is from being green. mwah

it seems you blend in (with so many other ordinary things)

Quill’s boots scraped under his feet at his slow trek across rough cement. It was dark, it was cold, it was long past curfew and fear sent icy nails scraping the back of his neck. Specters longed for his life force, longed for the rush of a living soul.

But they weren’t the only thing to fear tonight.

He didn’t know why he agreed to come out. Anybody with half a mind would have just stayed home, but Kipps was prideful. Kipps was too prideful. So of course he’d agreed to meet up tonight, despite better judgement and care for his own life.

And it was too late now to go back.

He tightened his grip on his rapier and carried on walking.

The trip to the alley was short and definitely not sweet, more incriminating than anything-- bad shit happens in a back alley most times. You find bodies there. Kipps didn't want to be one of them, but it wasn't looking too likely he wouldn't see his nose to the floor at least once. At least he had the sense to bring his goggles so he wasn't dead before even arriving.

Scratch, tap. Scratch, tap.

His footsteps came to a stop.

He took in his surroundings on instinct.

Around him was garbage, which wasn't a huge surprise. In between him were two brick walls, seeming ever so close to squeezing in on him (perhaps his imagination?) but a surprising lack of ghosts at all. But he still didn't feel alone. Kipps pressed his goggles harder on his face, as if that would help at all.

Nothing.

Somehow that was even more unsettling.

"What have you done?" Kipps called into the night, although no one was nearby. "And how? You know, my team could use someone wh-- oof!"

Something had kicked his stomach. He keeled over.

"Show yourself!" he wheezed. Stumbling to his feet, Quill waved his rapier aimlessly.

As if he was back where he was last year.

As if he was back being blind to the threats of the world.

Damnit, he was better than that. Not much, but--

A flash of movement.

Kipps stabbed.

A clang of metal.

Kipps lunged.

A shove to his back.

Kipps swung around. He felt cloth in his fingers, fuzzy like felt, and squeezed so it couldn't escape. "Gotcha," he smirked, which lasted all of two seconds.

The cloth in his hands was gone before he could register.

"Who are you!?" Kipps yelled. "We're ending this now, damnit!"

You are, maybe, came a voice from above.

No, left. No, right. No, below? Kipps swung his rapier in every one of those directions at least twice.

"You are, maybe," he repeated mockingly under his breath. "Shut the fuck up." Which was kind of bold for someone five foot one with his only weapon pointed at a brick wall.

Are you afraid? the voice asked laughingly.

"Me? no," Kipps replied, afraid. "You, however--"

A clatter behind him. A grip on his shoulder. A manly scream.*

Hi ho, called a whisper from everywhere all at once. Kermit the frog here.

*(author's note: male toddlers are still male, it counts.)

#lockwood and co fanfic #krash fic #kipps vs kermit #lockwood and Co #quill kipps #kermit the frog #the muppets #hey fun game who can look me in the eyes after this #krash’s personal faves

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onlyseokmins · 2 years

Text

limbo • w.j.h.

Pairing: wen junhui x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), afterlife!au

Warnings: this is kinda plot heavy not good smut but lezzgo just in case 😭 um daggers (no knife play tho dhdjjs), lil bit of threats and maybe violence, junhui deserves a warning himself I think he's hot, tying up/tentacle play kind of but it's shadows um like idk how to describe it 🤡 supernatural things!, biting 🦷, mentions of blood, death, lil bit of angst but I'm fluffy as usual <3, lots of mentions of souls and afterlife shenanigans, thigh riding, mirror sex, pls forgive me and just hmu if I missed smth

WC: 2.5k

A/N: for the lovely @katetattoolover <3 mwah I hope you enjoy this even if my brain died halfway writing it ndksksks another unplanned thing but limbo is just too powerful... Also for my huihuis mwah ILY... Idk how to describe this but I'm in a spooky mood bc of Halloween fics so this kind of played into it ig? I just like the plot 😭😅

If you were in heaven or hell, you didn't know. And you didn't care.

The fact of the matter was that you did know where you were.

Limbo.

The great boundary between worlds. Soul suspended, unable to leave. Not until you made a decision based on the knowledge gathered about your death that you learned here.

Neither heaven, hell, or earth.

A bleary place full of everything and nothing. Guarded and watched over by the enigmatic figure whose dark eyes were trained on you.

Blonde tresses tinged with white highlights are smoothly swept up in a ponytail to display his ears where little diamond studs twinkle like stars. When you'd first met him at the gates, he'd been wearing what you could only presume as combat armor, despite its lack of protection across his midriff. Vainly showing off his well-defined abs.

Now, he's donning a ruffled white blouse that looks like something old paintings of the founding fathers would have been dressed in. It suits him though, the v-cut down the front granting a delicious view of his décolletage and scorched ends adding to his devastating visuals.

You wonder how no one has succeeded in brutally attacking him with how exposed his outfits were but you suppose his eerie beauty is enough to render anyone immobile. Besides, even when his disinterested gaze shifts from you to the large glass of what you hope is simply wine, you can feel the shuddering intensity of the power he holds. Dangerous enough that it causes even your soul's shape to ripple in the stagnant air.

"You're a curious one, you know? Most are on their knees, begging for mercy."

"Is that what you prefer? Begging?"

The red liquid swirls as his fingers tap against the side of the glass. Silver hand jewelry accentuating the veins on his hands sparkles under the low, candlelit glow of the chandelier and matches the smirk that grows on his red lips.

"Only from those who dare to threaten my authority."

A silver, pearl-encrusted dagger lays on the floor between his golden throne at the table of gluttony and where you stand defiantly down on the concrete floor. Your wrists are bound together in front of you by a writhing strand of black shadows that spew out tiny hisses, much stronger than they look.

"I told you, I don't know where that came from. It's not mine!"

"Oh but darling," he laughs — though it's without humor, "it is."

You bare your teeth like a wild, caged animal. "I don't know a single thing! I just arrived here, someone has to be framing me, that dagger is not mine!"

Heeled boots create an echoing thud through the room that seems to enlarge and shrink at the same time. He bends down to pick up the dagger, turning it in his hands and inspecting it.

"This definitely belongs to you."

You stomp your foot. "No, it does n — "

"Because it was originally mine."

Your breath catches in your throat. Not just in response to his statement but because of the sharp point of the dagger inches away from your jugular. You may be an incorporeal existence now but fear fails to leave your instincts. Especially with a powerful entity's threats that could truly hurt you.

"Do you want a new life that bad?" he questions and for some reason he almost sounds… wistful? You're able to feel the cold steel against your chin as he taps the dull side of the dagger underneath it so you meet his searing, scarlet irises with a wide-eyed gaze. "That can't be it. There should only be one reason why you're standing before me."

"... Which is?"

"To return to your rightful place."

You attempt to take a step back but the shadows under his control swirl around your feet, anchoring you in place as he leans in.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"To come back to me. My queen."

"What?"

"The only other rightful ruler of Limbo." He's close enough that you can smell the sweet but smokey scent emanating from him, the dagger still poised between the two of you. "Allow me to remind you, my beloved."

Shadow wisps tickle your cheeks, encouraging you to close your eyes as they wrap around you. You think you should be terrified, screaming and struggling in protest. But the caresses of darkness welcoming you have nostalgia entangled within. A strange but familiar sense of comfort has you willingly grant them access into your mind to reawaken suppressed memories of a past life.

An arranged marriage. Heavy crowns. Lovelessness. A kiss stolen under the stars. Satin silk sheets. A dagger decorated with pearls. A promise, an oath. Blood. A chained box. Death. A name.

"Junhui," you breathe out.

"My love," he affirms with a hushed whisper of your own name.

Your eyes reopen with a glow, drinking in his features with a different sense of appreciation. One that holds recognition and fondness. Utter longing.

"How did this happen?"

He gently takes your hand, releasing your hands from the bindings and leads you up the stairs.

"After the soldiers cut me down, I found myself here. Searching for you, for a sign. Instead I found this." The ornate chair next to the one he was sitting on holds an old, beaten-up wooden box with heavy silver chains. It lies open but empty. "The higher beings told me I would have to wait and be patient… that I would have absolutely no doubts when you finally arrived."

You take the dagger he holds out to you, the same as you did on that fateful yet tragic night. Fragmented memories piece together the events that led up to your demise. Frantically digging a hole to hide the box containing the written love notes exchanged between your lover. The dagger should've joined them but the devastating news your personal maid delivered to you was buried into your body instead of the ground. Infused to become a part of your soul.

A sob unwittingly escapes. "For how long?"

"Too long." Junhui sighs. "I lost count thousands of years ago."

"I'm so sorry — "

"Don't. You've come to me now and that's all that matters."

"Jun…"

"Welcome to my lost world," he wipes away the tears that trail down your cheeks. "I've built it all for you, my queen. No one can defy or separate us now."

It is not the paradise you envisioned in your mortal lives nor the nirvana your soul imagined it'd be sent to. But that didn't matter because you realize that what you've always wanted — who you've always needed — was standing before you. Welcoming you with an open embrace.

"So, what happens now?"

"We must ensure that your soul is bound here… and to me so it won't move on or disappear… if that is what you want. You must make a choice."

You brush the strand of hair that escaped from his ponytail behind his ear. "What choice is there to make? I want to stay with you, to be with you. What must I do to make that happen?"

Junhui bites his lip. With a deep breath, he walks you over to where a shattered mirror sits in the corner. You try to hold back a scream and whimper instead, watching through the cracked glass as Junhui's arms wrap steadily around you — but nothing of you visible — in the reflection.

"Oh my g — "

"God can't help us now, beloved. He was never on our side to begin with." You nod pensively and Junhui continues. "Would you allow me to touch you, darling? Like before? I must bind your soul here and to do that, I will have to claim you as mine."

You turn to face him with a smile. "Aren't I already yours? Years ago, hidden under the veil of night?"

He beams back at you. "I take that as a yes, then?"

"Yes" rolls off your tongue and then Junhui's pressing his lips against yours. Running his tongue across your lips to seek permission, you chase his mouth as he walks backward until he's seated on his chair.

You fall against him, knees planting on either side of his thighs cushioned by the plushy surface. The ruffles on his blouse tickle your sudden bare skin and you pull away, looking at him in shock.

"Special privileges," he smirks devilishly, "I can manipulate the Limbo landscape quite easily so making your soul bare for me takes little effort."

"Will I be able to do the same?"

"Of course, my queen. And more." He takes your hand and places it over his chest. "But it's not like you need any powers to strip me, my dear. And I hope you'll use those kinds of powers on no one else but your king."

It's an invitation you would never refuse. The sound of tiny buttons and the clatter of the dagger hitting the floor fill the room as you rip off his shirt and slide it down his shoulders. Your hand trails down his pecs to the abs you were graced with upon your arrival, following the defined veins that disappear into his pants. He halts you when you start to slide down and you frown.

"I thought you liked people begging on their knees?"

"I do… but only in certain cases. Perhaps we can save that for another time, I'm supposed to be worshiping you, my love. Encouraging you to stay with me. Uniting our souls."

You want to tell him that you would not leave no matter what. But you know the strange workings of the afterlife and anything before, between, and after have strict rules that must be followed.

So, you relent. Letting him take control, peppering your upper body with kisses as he runs his fingers up and down the sides of your body. Committing it all to memory once more. Though you are no different to him than you were centuries ago.

The sting of coldness from his rings and fancy jewelry comes as a shock. Junhui feels you jolt against his hold and pauses, looking up at you from where his head is positioned between the valley of your chest.

"Are you okay?"

You nod, explaining the sensations, and he smiles contently; resuming his journey across the curves of your body. The soft material of his pants press against your center as you slowly begin to sink down on his thigh, submitting to the thrall of pleasure. As he tenses the thick muscle, you feel the breath of his snort when he guides your hips to move.

Sharp teeth graze the supple skin of your breasts and you furrow your brow, fingers running across his equally razor-edged jawline as you gently push his head back. Lidded eyes gaze at you with a lust-filled yet yearning look as you inquisitively explore his mouth.

Marveling at the same features you'd gawked at in your previous life, all motions halt as your lover dutifully lets you run your finger across his fangs. Earlier, his tongue had focused on tangling within your mouth in fear of potentially slicing you.

But as you prick your thumb on the point of his left canine tooth, no pain and no blood comes as you are neither dead nor alive. Giggling, you press a kiss on the mole right above it and gleefully show him.

"You can't hurt me."

"Not yet," he winks and encourages you to move your hips again. "As long as you're nice and wet, it won't."

"I don't think pain exists here."

He frowns, eyes darkening. "It does. I was so very lonely. It deeply hurt and ached so much that I slowly became numb. But all of that is a distant thought, overshadowed by you in my arms and on my lap."

You kiss his nose next. "I don't want you to feel lonely anymore. I'm here to stay with you for the rest of eternity."

He turns you around and you gasp. What once was reflected in the empty, cracked mirror now shows a depraved image. Junhui's hands move faster, one hand moving down to spread your cunt open for you to see while the other fondles your tits.

Leering over your shoulder, he harshly sucks on your neck before biting down lightly. You moan. Head thrown back as his fangs pierce you but once again, no pain is felt and no blood is spilled. Just pure bliss and pleasure.

"Look at you," Junhui praises. "Look at how beautiful you are when you finally sit on this throne."

By throne, he must mean his cock. The diamond encrusted belt is slipped off and dropped on the floor, his fingers busy as he unzips his pants. You feel his hard length slap against your back, having shifted forward to give him space to move.

His shadows aid him, lifting you up a decent amount and playing with you a bit to stretch you out before they ease you down on his thick girth. You throw your head back against his other shoulder and he takes the opportunity to lick up the opposite side of your neck. Biting as he pleases.

You both let out synonymous moans when he bottoms out, gasping at how fiery his gaze is that it's almost melting the glass of the mirror as he stares you head-on.

"Your beauty shines in this abyss."

If you could, you'd ride him into oblivion but the burning stretch of his thick cock is overwhelming enough that even your supernatural body cannot escape the plethora of pleasure surging as your hole clenches tight around it. Luckily, the shadows sweep forward at his beckon once more, tendrils wrapping around your ankles in the effort to assist your feeble movements.

It's far from scary because they are just another part of him. Curling around your nipples, brushing tenderly at your cheek, tickling your clit… yet it feels like Junhui's hands are all over you. Even though you know he hasn't moved away from your hips as your nails dig into his forearms from the intense up and down motions, ass slapping against his thighs.

You can feel a distinct power surge — twisting and turning as your drooling figure becomes more and more defined in the melting mirror. The Limbo is welcoming the long awaited queen into its domain, accepting the share of powers as the king ravages his beloved on the very throne he once spent decades crying upon.

"You are mine, aren't you, my queen?"

"Yes, I am yours… my king," you huff out, surrendering to your climax with an otherworldly scream as your soul adjusts to its newfound abilities as he joins you in a blazing release deep within your cunt.

Sweat makes your skin glisten as you lay in Junhui's arms panting. The shadows come forth once more — at your command — solidifying into an elegant black outfit.

The king hums in approval. "No crown is needed to represent your authority, but I will give whatever gems and riches you desire."

"I want nothing but you."

"Isn't it funny? Alive, I could offer you nothing but now in this realm of ours — anything is possible."

You kiss his forehead, smiling extra sharply with your newly acquired fangs. "Thank you for waiting for me."

"Thank you for coming back." Junhui whispers against your lips. "Now we have the rest of eternity to make up for what we lost."

Bound together. Forever. In Limbo.

#ez.creates #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #junhui smut #wen junhui smut #jun smut #Pls forgive me for this it was fun while it lasted istg #svt.smut

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vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds · 1 year

Note

just some random paul fluff..? just get creative with it- what ever comes to mind..! please and thank you in advance ⭐️

Hello! I will admit, I've never been told to get creative before so I stewed on this one for a while. But, after thinking, I realized there are two things I think of when I think of fluff: pregnancy fics and love confessions. I know some people are a bit dodgy about pregnancy or it can be triggering, so I decided to write a love confession. Hope this is okay! Proofed in UK English (idk why I always mention that, I always proof in UK English lol). Enjoy!

P.S. I Love You

(Source)

You and Paul had been pining over each other for God knows how long at this point. You knew you liked him. He knew he liked you. But you were both oblivious to the others feelings.

Every time he looked at you, you felt your stomach do flips, but in your mind, he only thought of you as a friend.

Gazing into your eyes, Paul couldn’t help but notice how his heart always made an attempt to escape his chest. The Beatles are supposed to be officially unattached. You stop that, he always told himself.

Everyone around you was impatiently waiting for one of you to finally confess. John was about to take it upon himself when he noticed Paul writing a letter one day.

At seeing the words, “Dear Y/N”, John grinned before swiftly walking away.

Paul penned about twenty-seven letters to you, each one failing to meet his approval before he crumpled it and threw it in the bin.

You’re sitting on your sofa one Sunday when a letter comes through the letter box. At the sight, you quirk an eyebrow.

“The post doesn’t come on Sunday,” you mumble to yourself before retrieving the letter. It only has your name and address, with no return address or any indication of who sent it.

“Dear Y/N,” it reads, “As I write this letter, the sun is shining through my window, bathing my room in golden sunlight. I know you find that kind of stuff poetic, so I wanted to tell you. I was thinking of you and immediately wanted to share a secret with you. I’m in love with you! Please meet me at St. John’s Gardens straightaway, so I may finally tell you in person. Love, your secret admirer. P.S. I love you.”

You read the letter three times, looking for anything to identify the mysterious author, before grabbing your coat and heading out.

The Gardens are quiet; most people are spending their Sunday either in church or with their families.

As you look around, you see him from the corner of your eye: Paul, sitting on a bench, looking as if he might pass out from fright at any moment.

It’s just coincidence, you tell yourself before Paul spots you.

“Y/N!” he shouts before running up to you.

“Paul!” you greet. “Are you meeting someone here too?”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “You could say that. I left a love letter for a bird earlier and I’m waitin’ for her here.”

“That’s funny. I received a letter earlier from a secret admirer telling me to meet them here.”

Paul watches with a cheeky grin as you realize what had happened.

“You?”

Paul nods. “I thought I’d never be able to tell ye, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. I love you, Y/N. You have no idea what you do to me just by bein’ you.” He takes your hand and rests it on his chest; you can feel how nervous he must be in the way his heart races against your palm.

You blush with a smile before looking down, unable to speak.

“Y/N, please say something,” Paul worries after a moment.

You kiss him gently. “I love you too, Paul.”

#mine #the beatles x reader #the beatles #the beatles imagines #the beatles fanfiction #beatles imagines #beatles imagine #beatles x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #vivi in the sky with fanfics #request fic

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hanlimz · 1 year

Note

JUNGWONSPIDERMANAU

cass. pls dont say that and just. LEAVE. expand. i would like to hear your thoughts 🎤

bc truly spider-man/peter parker was my first love and personally i have had the idea for a jake as spider-man au for quiet a bit now but it has never really taken off but now i NEED to hear all your thoughts.

(also if u have any good spider-man au fic recs pls send them my way thnx 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

PLSSS I COULD TALK FOREVER!!!! BUT OKAY—here are some bullet points plus a small blurb/summary/idk? i literally am going to write so much im so SORRY??? (this has convinced me n i will be writing a fic LMAOO)

(+ two vvvv good spiderman fic recs!!)

it’s safe here (with me) by @enhypenandpaper !! | very cute story, well-written, i love when writers can put their own unique spin on scenes that inspire them it’s rly motivating and wonderful (i need to rb this on my fic rec blog asap) (jake x reader)

i’ll save you (again) by @jayflrt !! | amazing stupendous wonderful show-stopping ,, literally one of my Favorite reads on this app .. this author manages to encapsulate both spiderman And jake sosososo well .. they also make it a point to rly flesh out the other friendships mentioned and I Love That (jake x reader)

general hcs (?):

won is the dorkiest spiderman ever .. stutters over his quips, never has anything cool to say to the villains he fights, doesn’t know how to respond to ppl thanking him

one time someone he saved tried to ask for his number and he panicked and said he was banned from both t-mobile and verizon (he’s not btw)??

another time he just got done saving a group of ppl n said “no thneeds necessary” ?? bc he was trying to say “no need to thank me” n “no thanks necessary” at the same time

but he’s also the sweetest .. any time someone asks to “repay him” he’s a double it n give it to the next person kinda guy .. he always tells them to stop by the soup kitchen or donate old clothes to thrift stores or just be kind to someone else

also ,, on another note ,, won has the Biggest crush on u and knows u like to help out at the local preschool, so he always tells ppl to buy and donate extra school supplies

sometimes when he’s out patrolling late at night, he’ll see u on ur way home from the library n quietly follow u to make sure u get home safe

tries to talk to u once after seeing a spiderman article open on ur computer and u indulge him for a moment, saying how bad u felt abt the daily bugle’s tabloid pieces .. won’s p sure his heart exploded

but overall, he’s very gentle and kind .. ever the king of duality tho .. he can beat a bitch up when need be, but most of the time—won’s just a high school senior trying to get into MIT and make the person he’s been in love with since the beginning of fall semester feel the same way abt him

ANYWAYS in a high school!au setting i see a lot of ppl like to hc jungwon as class/stuco president, but i think he’s definitely more on the quiet side .. he’s popular, yes, but not too popular if that makes sense. for him, though, this is perfect ... he flies under the radar, and him missing school a couple days in a row every month or so goes virtually unnoticed. HOWEVER, you’ve always had a sneaking suspicion .. it’s not like you and won are Rivals—there would be no merit in picking an unnecessary fight with the boy who volunteers at the soup kitchen on the weekends and feeds the stray cats near the gym and asks the lunch ladies how their days are going—but, there’s something strange going on. you’re sure of it.

jungwon comes into school one day w a busted lip and a black eye. everyone is fawning over him, asking him what happened—did he get mugged, did his face hurt, did he give the other person a run for their money? you don’t bother checking in on him when he takes his seat next to you. you just hand him his calculus test (he did better than you again n it’s infuriating) and clench your jaw, willing yourself to disappear. that familiar, green monster hangs in the shadows behind you, and its breath fans across your neck as it attempts to coax a physical manifestation of jealously from your lips. eventually, you excuse yourself to the nurse’s office and skip the rest of the day.

later that night, you’re trying to study in your room, but you keep getting distracted by the daily bugle’s twitter updates. spiderman is out and about again, and they won’t let the poor guy’s good reputation rest. it’s all “spiderman fights villain and knocks over streetlight onto local man’s car” and “spiderman forgoes saving lady’s churro to destroy half of grand central station”—and, honestly, you feel a bit bad. he’s trying his best. but, as rain patters against your window, the sound threatens to lull you to sleep. exhaustion overtakes your body, your eyes are drooping, and your head keeps falling from your hands. and then BOOM—the loudest noise you’ve ever heard startles you from your fatigue-induced trance. with a look of fear in your eyes, you glance over your shoulder to look at the window and the sight that greets you is enough to freeze every molecule in your body.

the aforementioned hero is clinging to the side of your building, banging his fist on the glass and practically begging to be let in. his movements are frantic and a bit scary. you open the window as quick as you can and let him slide through the small gap you’ve created. there are copious tears in his suit, blood flows from a nasty gash on his shoulder. rushing around on some crude form of auto pilot, you grab a clean shirt from your closet and press it into his wound. you tell him to hold it there and instruct him to sit in your desk chair. he's sopping wet from head to toe, and all you manage to think about is how glad you are that your parents are away for the weekend.

eventually, after only almost vomiting once, the cut is clean and bandaged up. "you're so lucky that i've been trying to get rid of this shirt forever, mr. spiderman," you scoff as he perches on the sill of your window, preparing to swing away into the night. "if i had grabbed one of my favorite outfits, i would've killed you before that wound could have."

a giggle escapes from his lips, and for a moment, you find yourself taken aback. he sounds like a high schooler—young, lively, and everything but the twenty-something year old man you thought he would be. "sorry about that ... i'll have to swing by and drop off some laundry detergent one of these days," he laughs. his voice sounds so familiar, but your mind is still reeling from your recent discovery. the hero offers you a wave and gestures toward his previous seat. "sleep well—and, good luck on that calculus homework."

the next day at school, jungwon is nowhere to be seen. you thank whatever happens to reside in the sky that he can't see the bright red 67 at the top of your most recent calculus test. the next next day, however, jungwon comes in with his arm in a sling. as his seatmate, you're the one that has to help him out for the rest of the week. but, when you're sitting in free period, you happen to take another glance at the bandages around his shoulder as jungwon naps next to you. a sharp column of ice pierces through your lower abdomen; under jungwon's sling, the lowest layer of bandages are covered with dried blood and sweat.

they look eerily familiar. almost like the ones you used to patch spiderman up over the weekend.

but, jungwon couldn't be spiderman. he couldn't be—he's too sweet, too gentle, too kind. peeking over at his backpack, you note that it seems a bit bulkier today; a recognizable purple cap winks at you from the unzipped main pocket. a chill tickles the length of your spine as you register what happened to be resting against his class notebooks.

laundry detergent?

you pause for a moment.

oh.

oh god.

#ੈ.faves #ੈ.nyx 🌌#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #enha fluff #enha reactions #enha headcanons #enha imagines #jungwon reactions #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #LMAOOO i did too much honestly #the whole blurb is so messy im so SORRY #but when i have more time (prob my spring break ㅠㅠ) ill Definitely be fleshing this out n writing a full fledged spiderwon fic

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