#they are cooking fucking SOMETHING in this kitchen

[babyleostuff]

svt with a s/o who loves cooking/ baking | ot13

the ones that cannot cook to save their life - pulling you was the best thing to happen in their life: 

𐙚🧸ྀི wonwoo, vernon, chan, hoshi

in their eyes you're the coolest person alive - how are you able to cook and bake so well is a mystery for them. nonetheless, they’d love to accompany you whenever you’d be cooking/ baking, even if they’d just be watching, while having this cute lovestruck gaze that’d follow your every move. even though they wouldn't help much with the cooking/baking, they would take care of taking away the dirty dishes and washing them, or wiping the countertops if they got dirty, so as not to be completely useless (even though having them, even if they’d just be watching, would be more than enough for you). if you ever baked something, they’d probably take it to practice too, and if anyone would ask them what they were eating, they’d shyly mention that you made it.

his cooking skills are okay-ish, he won’t burn the kitchen down (the food somehow always end up being ass): 

𐙚🧸ྀི jeonghan, joshua, woozi, minghao, seungkwan 

having a partner who can cook and bake so well feels like such a blessing for them. they’d always inhale the food you made, and mention every other second how great it was, and that they have never anything as good as this (they say that anytime you cook/bake something). they'd be a bit hesitant to help you out, worried they might mess something up, but with your encouragement, and directions on what they’re supposed to do, they’d get the hang of it very quickly, and you’d end up having such a fun time. if they took the lunch or snacks you prepared for them to practice, they'd go around and tell people that you made it and that they miss out on so much good food (if anyone asked them for a bite of the food, they’d side eye them and walk away).

the ones that would love to cook alongside you, they wouldn’t burn the kitchen, and the food would be edible: 

𐙚🧸ྀི coups, jun, dk, mingyu

cooking together equals date nights, they’d never miss out on spending quality time with you, and the fact that food is involved? they’re in heaven. you’d have the best time talking, messing around, probably making fun of each other from time to time for messing something up. it’d be so domestic, and they only word you’d be able to describe it as would be home. yep, that’s what home feels like. i’d be a bit hesitant when it comes to baking, though. they’d be like: fuck the proportions, let’s freestyle, and it’d just end up in a huge disaster (i still have nightmares from nana tour, when mingyu wasn’t able to whisk the eggs, my slavic ass is sweating). you can be sure the food would be inhaled by them in less than ten seconds, because if there’s something they love more than cooking with you, it’s eating what you have prepared. 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @haneulparadx @zozojella @hoichi02

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen kpop #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen carat #seventeen reaction #seventeen requests #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #woozi #wen junhui #wonwoo #vernon #svt #seungkwan #dino #svt woozi #mingyu #minghao #hoshi #chwe vernon

[homestylehughes]

boyfriend luke headcanons

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: headcanons of bf!luke!

wc: 568

warnings: fluff!! cute luck, smut 18+. sfw and nsfw!

authors note: hiii guys!! guess whos back...me! i just finished my last final WOOOOHOOO! but i still have to write a 10 page paper final... gulp anyways!! i love writing headcanons recently... they're so fun so write. i wrote for luke, luke might be my fav hughes brother... he's been looking a little too good recently NO SURPRISE! anyways im working on more fics tonight so more things will be coming!! im currently working on a long quinn fic, super excited for that to come out. omg this is so long im so sorry, okay im done yapping now!! like and reblog if you enjoyed it<3 much love as always <3

OH!! my requests are open, send something in or just talk to me:)

happy reading<3

Sfw: 

Bf!luke: luke loves having his hands on you at all times. Cuddling you when you guys are home alone and having an arm and hand on you when you guys are out in public. Always making sure you know that he's always there.

Bf!luke: luke loves to plan cute little dates for you guys, always changing it up. If it's a picnic in the park or dinner at a fancy restaurant. Your favorite dates are the random ones, just getting in the car and doing something, those always make the best memories. 

Bf!luke: Luke is a quiet but attentive boyfriend. He's always there when you need a shoulder to cry on, he always listens to you about everything you want to talk about. Luke is quiet in some momentents but you don't mind it, you love how soft and quiet he is, showing how he cares for you in intimate ways.

Bf!luke: He's such a competitive game player. He hates losing, especially to you. Your favorite moment with him is when guys were playing scrabble and he lost in the last round, flipping the scrabble board with a dramatic sign. Lets just say he was picking up scrabble pieces for 2 hours straight. 

Bf!luke: It's no secret that Luke can't cook, but he tries for you. Waking up before you, his mind set on making you breakfast. Trying to be as quiet as he can in the kitchen, trying to pull something together to impress you with. He always ends up going with things that don't involve him using the stove, as a safe bet. The cereal and yogurt bowls never fail to make your heart burst whenever you see them. Knowing it's not much, but it means so much to you because luke made it for you. 

Nsfw: 

Bf!luke: people wouldn't expect it but luke is one kinky guy. He loves trying new things in the bedroom. Tying you up, trailing ice cubes down your body, you name it he’ll do it.

Bf!luke: shower sex. Luke loves shower sex. Watching the water run down your body, has to be one of his favorite sights. Kissing your neck from behind you, guiding his hands along your waist pulling your body back towards him. He’ll slowly push your body against the shower wall, trapping you body with his arms caging you in as he works his way down you body, as your moans fill up the shower walls. 

Bf!luke: luke loves it when you praise him, he definitely has a praise kink. Pulling on his hair while he eats you out. Looking down at him as he's between your legs, moaning at how good he looks from down there. Urging him on saying “fuck right there” “yes luke oh my god” “you look so pretty between my legs”, and his personal favorite is when you call him “good boy”. 

Bf!luke: luke loves ur thighs, kissing them, laying on them, anything that has to do with your thighs he loves. He loves gripping them while your on top riding him, his large hands gripping your thighs with such force that will definitely leave a bruise the next day. 

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes smut #luke hughes

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hear me out…. Nathan taking care of his girl when she’s going through sub-drop after an intense session

I am hearing you <3 (Also sorry this took forever!)

Sub Drop

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Warnings: swearing, Nathan being a softie, Nathan picking up reader (he doesn't care what size you are, it's HAPPENING.), typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 501

While I fully believe that Nathan has read every single book on BDSM and knows exactly what to do when someone experiences a sub drop, I also believe that the second it happens all his knowledge goes out the window. 

Just for a minute. 

He’s so used to fucking robots that interacting with a real person who does things outside of his control (or ability to press the off switch) makes his brain go errrrrrmmmmmmmmm…

He then gets annoyed with himself for A) forgetting knowledge and B) not being helpful when you’re going through something because no matter what he pretends, he cares about you and the idea of you going through a bad time (a real bad time not a sexy-oh-no-but-not-really bad time) makes him feel helpless. 

And he does not like feeling helpless. 

Asks if he can touch you, hold you, stroke your back and press little kisses to your cheeks and neck. 

He wraps you in the softest blanket he has and refuses to do anything without you. It’s like working on a computer problem for him, he can’t stop trying to ‘fix’ it, make you feel better.

If he’s coding/working you’re on his lap, holding you against his chest while he types. 

If he’s working out, then it’s New Work Out Time, which includes carrying you around the house. It doesn’t matter what size/shape you are, he’s carrying you. Deal with it. He needs to get his reps in. No, he isn’t putting you down. No, you have no choice in this. 

If he’s cooking (for both of you) he’ll put a chair in the kitchen close to where he’s working so he can kiss your forehead every minute. 

Asks you what you want. A favourite food/drink? He’s making it for you now. A bath/shower? He’s in there with you. Cuddles? It’s already happening. Watch something? TV’s already on. Just talk? Would you like to hear about 17th century sword making processes? Don’t worry about why he’s been researching that right now.

Reassures you however he can. Despite how he likes to come across, he’s a big softie. He does not like seeing you in pain or distress. He will word vomit about how much he cares about you. (He will be a big grump if you bring this up when you feel better.)

He doesn’t like if you have a sub drop because he feels like it’s a bad reflection on him. He doesn’t blame you for it at all, just himself. Thinks he should have done things differently, taken better care, been better for you. He’s misjudged the system, made you feel bad. He has to fix this. 

When you’re better, you end up having to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. (Which he doesn’t like, because he doens’t want to make you feel like he’s putting things on you.) 

He’ll ask if you want a massage, which he has to stop after 2 minutes because he has a boner. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt

@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#nathan bateman #ex machina #nathan bateman x reader #x reader #nathan bateman x you #x you #nathan bateman x female reader #x female reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 10 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: wrote this in between study breaks, I’m totally spent 😭😭

W/C: 3.523

part nine

"So, uh- do you have any allergies?"

I mutter awkwardly, standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes on Jude as he sits across from me at the kitchen island.

He folds his arms across his chest, raising his head to look over at me.

"Are you planning something?" He eyes me suspiciously, causing a tired sigh to leave my mouth.

"Shut up- answer the question.." I raise my wooden spoon, threatening him.

"No, I don't have any allergies. Is that good enough?" He replies, Brum accent making him sound even more defensive.

"Ungrateful ass.." I mutter, turning around and starting to work on breakfast.

I had slept horribly after last night’s events. I'd reckon- maybe, six hours in total. It was our day off- thankfully, but that didn't mean that I trusted Jude to rummage through my house on his own while I rotted away in bed.

My dad had called earlier, wanting to explain the situation to me clearly without leaving any important details out.

Apparently, last night Jude's place was broken into again. This time, he was at home to actually witness it happen. I'm not sure what transpired between the intruder and Jude. Since, my dad had told me it would be too invasive for me to know.

From what I knew, it was the same person as last time- or how many damn times this had happened. This case had been keeping my dad busy for months now, and it only found a way to piss me off even more.

Either Jude had the shittiest security, or- did he even have security?

"Can't believe I'm cooking for you.." I mutter, hearing the drag of his house slippers against the floor as he walks up to me.

"What are you making?"

I move away, so he doesn't touch me, giving him a side eye as I crack four eggs in a pan.

"Eggs.." I say, moving back when oil splashes up.

"Can you cook?" He asks, eyes moving in between the stove and my face.

"Kind of.." I say, hesitating with my reply.

I knew how to cook the basics. Say, your pastas and soups. Though, I like to think I'm improving every time auntie Carmen comes over to show me how to cook another delicious meal.

"How do you like your eggs?" I ask, raising my head to look up at him. He has a confused expression on his face and his gaze is fixed on me.

Fuck, did that sound wrong?

"More runny or cooked?" I ask, grimacing to myself as I sprinkle salt and pepper into the pan.

"You've cooked it- enough.."

"Oh, okay.." I mentally curse at how stupid I sound, looking away from him.

I quickly plate it up for him, not forgetting the avocado and barely toasted pieces of bread.

Well, too bad for him.

We eat our breakfast without speaking to each other. I can only hear the crunch of my bread and clatter of the cutlery against the plates.

I look up at him when I've cleared my plate, wiping crumbs from the corners of my mouth.

"How long are you staying?"

"Are you trying to kick me out already?"

I give him a look, raising my brows as if to tell him he already knows my answer.

"I don't know- depends on the situation.." He says, rubbing his hands against his gray sweatpants.

I sigh, rubbing my temples in irritation.

"Where's your mom anyway?" I ask, remembering that they literally lived together.

"I made her go back to England for my brother’s games. She's always spending more time with me- felt bad for the lad.." He answers, looking away.

"Last night?" I ask, raising my voice in surprise.

"No, during international break. I wasn't playing remember.."

"Oh- that's good, I guess.." I trail off, realizing we're going to be home alone for a while.

Silence falls in between us, and I begin picking at the loose threads of my old pajama top. It was old, but so comfy to sleep in.

"Okay, uh- let's clean up, and I'll give you a quick tour of the place." I jump up from my seat, grabbing my plate off the table, and walk over to the sink.

I look back when he doesn't get up. I raise a brow, sending him a questioning look.

"What are you doing? Clean up.." I say, waving him over. I watch him grab his plate and cutlery- a comical sight that had me struggling to keep my composure.

He places the plate in front of me, looking at me like he's expecting me to do something.

I step back, folding my arms.

Woah, he looked clueless.

"Do you even know how to do- like the dishes or laundry?" I ask, eyeing him up and down.

"Not really.."

"You're what? Twenty and don't know how to do your own laundry?" I pull a horrified face.

"Do you think it's okay to freeload?" I question, immediately grabbing his wrist to drag him upstairs to the laundry room.

Did he think this was a five-star hotel or something?

"I can't believe I have to drive you there. Why don't you have a license?" I whine, walking into the bathroom and seeing him fix his hair. The array of skincare, haircare and bodycare all on the counter in front of him.

Why did I think that he only used a block of soap and aftershave?

He turns away from the mirror, taking a step closer to me as I passive aggressively grab my toothbrush.

"Why wouldn't you want to drive me?" He questions, his voice full of mockery.

I wet my toothbrush and the blob of toothpaste, starting to brush my teeth as I look up at him.

"Do you know how crazy it looks for a staff member to arrive with a player in her car?"

I mumble, probably half audible, as I spit foam into the sink.

He grimaces at me, and I watch him take a step away from me via the mirror.

"Oh, you're dramatic.." I mumble, running the brush over my teeth again.

"Everyone thinks we're together anyway- does it even matter at this point?"

I freeze, turning to him with white foam dripping down the corner of my mouth.

"That's even worse.." I shake my head, giving him a once-over before starting to rinse my mouth.

"Pre-match meal is at...?" I question, waiting for him to finish the sentence while I dry my hands and mouth.

"Half past two." He replies, making me nod.

"Okay- give me an hour.." I say, quickly running to my room to change and get ready.

It was match day against Granada. Thankfully, after this we got some more days off.

We had to get to the training center early, mainly due the fact that I had become Jude’s private driver.

When my father told me I had to drive him around, I almost fell to my knees in sheer despair, not believing the torture I had to go through.

I didn’t even get anything in return, well, maybe I’d bug my dad for another pretty handbag- or two.

Pre-match meals are usually about three to four hours before the match. Normally, I could arrive very late and still manage to snatch a nice plate, but because of Jude - that wasn't possible today, and probably until he’s moved out of my place.

y/n's only half-way through her 'getting ready' playlist when she hears multiple loud knocks on her bedroom door.

"What?! Stop banging on my door! You don't even pay rent!" She shouts over the music, watching the door handle twist.

She turns away from her vanity mirror, makeup brush in her hand, as she sees Jude walk into her room.

"Who invited you in?" She questions, gasping when he goes to sit on her nicely made bed, wrinkling the fabric.

"Me, you’re taking so-” He begins, but he's immediately cut off when she shouts.

"Wait- shut up.."

She says, turning away to sing along with the song currently playing from her phone.

"We do the things but we know it's wrong

All on my skin, you all in my palm

I sent you a envelope, came with a poem

You possess venom that came with a charm

You get the good out me when I perform

I know the bad in you, that's what I want

And you a baddie, you turnin' me on."

Seems like she forgets he's even in her room, singing along to the Future verse while she dots a good amount of blush on the apples of her cheek.

He sighs loudly, continuing to stare at her from behind. She doesn’t notice at all, now way too invested into getting ready while listening to her favorite songs.

Jude runs a frustrated hand over his face, taking in the way she sings along with the all-too-familiar-sounding song lyrics, hoping she can hurry up soon.

"Do I have to take you home too?" I ask, getting up from the comfy chair I'm in. Following Jude towards the dressing room. Relieved after a 2-0 win against Granada.

The sound of his cleats hitting the floor is loud, and I stop right at the entrance of the dressing room when he stops in his tracks.

"I can call a taxi, probably.."

I search his face for any annoyance or anger, but don't see anything like it. Instead, in a strangely familiar way- his eyes are wide and expressive. He looks more unsure and uncomfortable than I've ever seen him.

"It's fine- we're going to the same house anyway.." I whisper, dismissing his words with a wave. 

"I have to go back to the training center though.. Can you stand tagging along with me?" I question, raising my brows in anticipation.

"Yeah, I'll just get freshened up really quick.." He says, stepping inside and closing the door since he was the last player to enter.

After saying bye to everyone, I sneakily walk up to my car. Almost jumping out of my skin when I see Jude already standing at the passenger door.

"What are you- get in.." I sigh, unlocking the door and stepping in.

The ride over to the training center is awkward and quiet, to say the least. I'm not in the mood to look through my playlist- and I'm sure he isn't either, by the way he's busy scrolling on his phone.

I park my car in my designated spot in the staff parking lot, looking over at him.

"Do you want to stay in the car?" I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt, and glancing at him.

"No, I'll come with you.." He replies, stepping out of the passenger’s seat and following me inside.

"I need to leave this bag here.." I inform, locking the car as the both of us walk inside the center.

He doesn't reply, not that it's necessary.

I walk up to the office, still hearing Jude walk right behind me.

"You're following me like a lost puppy.." I mutter, unlocking the door of the room I'm supposed to leave the equipment in.

"Okay, damn, I'll be downstairs.." He sneers, turning away and leaving immediately.

I shrug to myself when he leaves, finishing my business before going down as well.

I shove my keys into my bag, swinging it on my shoulder, then go looking around for Jude.

I enter the meeting room he and other players would hang out in, but don't see him. Stepping out, I look up from the door, walking in and out of the other meeting rooms.

"Where the fuck are you?" I mutter, reaching for my phone to call him, only to remember that I don't even have his phone number.

"Looking for something?"

I almost scream out loud when I hear a deep voice behind me. I turn, trying to not look like the person scared the crap out of me.

Oh, the creepy coworker. How fun.

"No, just dropped off some equipment upstairs.." I quickly say, rubbing my hand against my jeans.

I watch his eyes flicker to the keycard around my neck, which I forgot to take off.

"Coming from Bernabéu, y/n?"

Why did he know my name?

"Yeah, busy day.."

He stares at me, not saying anything else. I mentally hype myself up to say something, maybe to learn more about him.

"What's your name? We've seen each other around, but I don't know your name.” I say, shifting nervously as his blue eyes peer into mine.

"Andrés, fitness department. I'm new.." He says, sticking out a ghostly hand for me to shake.

"Right, nice to meet you. I would introduce myself too, but you seem to know already. How come?" His grip is tight, so I tighten it even more.

Give me a rough handshake, and I’ll break your hand out of pettiness.

"Everyone here knows you.." He replies, there is a harsh, but breathiness to his voice and it causes chills to run down my spine.

I clear my throat, realizing he still hasn't let go of my hand.

"Because of my father, yeah.." I fake a chuckle, trying to pull my hand back.

"No, not because of mister l/n.." My breath hitches audibly at his tone, and I try to snatch my hand back even more forcefully.

He doesn't even flinch, continuing to stare down at me.

"y/n, here you are.." I hear a familiar voice say, breaking out of this weird fucking trance.

My head snaps up, my eyes going wide, when I see Jude stepping out of the meeting room I had not checked out yet.

I use the opportunity to snatch my hand away from Andrés, rubbing my hand to fix my blood flow.

I watch Jude give him a look, death stare imminent when he walks up to us.

"Andrés? What are you doing here, it's late." He says, for some reason, slower than I have ever heard him speak.

"Work, busy.." He answers, trying to speak English with a broken Spanish accent.

Oh, he didn't speak English?

I watch a strange interaction between them, a jumble of Spanish and English. I try my best to understand, but it seems like both men throw in some gibberish too.

Finally, when they're done with their simlish, I'm grabbed by my hand, dragged away by Jude.

"What the hell is his problem?" I exclaim, still feeling my hand ache from the pressure.

"He's been fuckin' weird, don’t like him..” He mutters, walking ahead of me while still dragging me along.

I struggle to catch up with his long strides, his warm palm pressing into mine as he looks back at me.

"You okay?" He questions, stopping abruptly, causing me to smash my face against his arm.

"Ow- not anymore.." I mutter, rubbing my nose in agony with my free hand.

"Oh- shit, sorry.." He spits, his hand still on mine. I remove my hand from my face, raising my chin to look up at him.

"Am I bleeding?" A dramatic question, but you never knew with his rock-hard, muscular- arms..

I blink up at him, feeling his hand come up to my chin. He pinches my face, making me move my head.

"No, no blood- I think.." He breathes out, eyes roaming around my face to check for any blood.

I make sudden, close eye contact with him. His brown eyes catching mine, breath fanning my face.

We stare at each other for a moment. His hand still clearly on mine while he cups my face to look at me.

I realize the position we're in and step back. I eye our intertwined hands, looking back up at him as if to tell him to let go.

He clears his throat, dropping my hand like it's hot, and stepping back.

I decide to pretend I don't give a fuck. Ignoring the drumming of my heart, and grab my car key out of my bag.

"Get in.."

"Smash.." I say, maybe for the 10th time this hour.

"Oh my days, can you stop saying that?" Jude exclaims, a bewildered expression on his face as he looks over at me.

"Can't, it's Michael B. Jordan, and you want me to sit still?" I ask, earning a grunt from him.

"You're unbelievable.."

I ignore him, continuing to drool over the screen while I shove popcorn into my mouth.

"What are you going to do? You're off for four days.." I ask, sprawled out on the couch, in front of the TV.

"I have physical therapy every day, can't leave the city.." He complains, sitting on the couch across from me.

"Oh, how inconvenient- wait, who's driving you?.."

"Don't you worry, I've got someone driving me.." He sneers, folding his arms.

I roll my eyes, going back to watch the movie on the screen.

A hot man could make a boring movie so incredibly interesting.

"I'm not home tomorrow. Will you survive being home alone for the rest of your day?" I question, flickering my eyes back to him.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking my last exam, library helps me focus better.." I stuff another handful of popcorn into my mouth.

"Last one?"

"Yeah, I need to go revise a little." I sit up, pausing the movie, and getting up from the couch.

"Have it.." I shove the bowl of popcorn into his hands, walking up the stairs to my room. Ready for this exam to be over already.

“What the fuck was that.." I whisper to myself, hitting my head on my steering wheel repeatedly. I had long driven home from the library, not caring to step out of the car, parked in the driveway.

I had studied hours on end, but when I was presented with the questions, my brain practically short circuited, causing me to blank out so much information I needed to know.

I'm on the verge of tears at this point. Normally, after the last exam of the semester, I'd be jumping from joy, but the way this exam had gone- I wanted to cry buckets of tears.

I sniffle, wiping my nose with my sleeve. Not caring about the foundation stain left on it, and grab my bag from the backseat. I get out of my car, unlocking the front door of my house quickly.

I expect the house to be quiet, but instead I hear loud music. Old 80s songs, solely about love. Music only I knew auntie Carmen loved listening to while cooking.

I drop my bag at the front door, blinking repeatedly to hide the tears in my eyes. I shrug my jacket off, the December cold had come in full force. Though, to me, nothing was worse than winter in London anyway.

"Harina, say it, young man.." I hear auntie Carmen say in Spanish, a voice following behind her.

"Harina? Harina.." A broken accented voice says. I raise my brows, my tears and worries in the back of my mind now.

Curiosity takes over, and I immediately walk towards the kitchen, where the noises are coming from.

I'm greeted by the sight of auntie Carmen and Jude standing next to each other. Both wearing aprons as they are kneading dough on the kitchen island. Flour sprinkled on the marble as I hear Jude repeat random Spanish words, often getting corrected by my auntie.

She didn't even speak a lick of English. How did they even communicate?

I clear my throat, taking their attention away from the slabs of dough on the counter.

"Oh- you're home.." She smiles warmly at me, beckoning me over with a flour-covered hand.

"What's this?" I ask, stepping closer and speaking in Spanish.

"We're making pizza from scratch, sweetie." She says, giving me a kiss on my cheek.

"With him?" I point to Jude, watching him pound the dough with unnecessary aggression.

"What do you mean? Jude is so good at this, look at him go..” She smiles, saying his name with the utmost affection. He looks up confused, but I ignore him further.

What the hell did he do to make her like him already?

"Your boyfriend is a better cook than you already..”

I pull a horrified face, eyes going wide as my arms fall to my sides. I glance at Jude, noticing that he hadn’t even flinched at the words.

Thankfully, his Spanish classes weren’t so advanced yet…

I lean in close to her, whispering, well whisper-shouting.

“He’s not my boyfriend..” I say, pulling a face. I watch the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles.

“I know, I’m just joking. Your dad called me about this entire situation already..”

“Why would you say that, then?”

“He’s handsome, isn’t he..” She says out loud, making me facepalm.

First, he steals my dad’s time, then my house, and now my auntie?

I look at him, watching him knead the dough, a smirk forming on his face.

I want to strangle him right here and now..

It’s only been a couple days, and this was too much for me already.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fanfic #real madrid fc #real madrid #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football imagine #football #bellingham x reader

[smusherina]

the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions) - chapter 1 (wenclair)

fandom: Wednesday (2022), Addams Family (all media)

pairing: (romantic) Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair (platonic) OFC/Reader x Wenclair

summary: You'd been keeping an eye out for Enid Sinclair since freshman year. There'd been a silent camaraderie between you, both sitting in the very back of the room during Furs specific classes. Things changed, though, after Wednesday Addams came around. For one, Enid shifted.

additional clarification: Wednesday and Enid have an established relationship. Story follows the POV of an outsider.

It wasn't like you were angry at her. No, you could only be happy that not only had they (whoever they were, that was never clarified to you) saved the school from, uh, genocide, but Enid had shifted for the first time. That was a pivotal moment in any young werewolf's life, especially for Enid since she'd been latent.

You were angry at everything that would change. You'd been different and she'd been different, so you'd sort of banded together, y'know? Now, she was no longer that while you still were. You were alone. Again. You couldn't bring yourself to not be bitter about that.

Then again, it wasn't like you were really friends. You didn't talk, ever. You just sat next to one another in Werewolf Studies class. Your bond was totally one-sided, with you having latched onto any kindness shown to you by a peer. Because just sitting next to you was a kindness. Gosh, you sounded pathetic.

You'd liked her and wanted to be her friend so bad, but had never gathered the courage. You'd spent your evenings alone in your room, wondering what it'd be like being a friend of Enid Sinclair's.

You sounded so creepy and stalkerish. Maybe you were. You didn't actively follow her around or anything, or fantasize about her, or do anything like that. That was gross and violating. You just... You were lonely.

You had some time to get used to the idea. The fall semester ended early due to the normie teacher turning out to be a scheming bitch and resurrecting an evil pilgrim, apparently, so you'd have plenty of time to digest your new predicament.

Usually, for long holidays like summer vacation, you'd travel back to whence you came, but you hadn't had time to make arrangements amid everything. You knew your usual hosts wouldn't be pleased to take you in on such short notice.

You'd been given special permission from Weems to stay in school during winter break the previous years, which was shorter than summer vacation but longer than any of the other mid-season breaks, but considering she was dead you didn't quite know what to do. Was that permission still valid? Your roommate packed her bags as did everybody else. You watched from the balcony as everybody got in their parents' cars or boarded the bus. You packed up your essentials just in case they had some last-minute arrangements for you.

You expected to have a teacher come talk to you at some point. Tell you where you'd be going or if you were going to be staying. Pick-up day passed. The teachers and staff lingered for a bit longer. The cleaners left, then the cooks. A sinking feeling manifested in your belly as you realized there'd be no daily meals. Eventually, the others left too. You were alone at Nevermore.

Fuck. Fuck.

Fine. It was fine. Everything was fine. You got yourself into this mess. You should've opened your mouth and said something instead of assuming the teachers would check in on everybody. They didn't have that sort of time. In between hiring a new botany teacher and a new principal, buffing the sheriff's efforts to launch an investigation on the school, and assuring Jericho residents of their safety, obviously, they would forget about you.

Despite all your efforts to rationalize it in your mind, it did sting. But you made do. Once the initial panic wore off, you were able to make some plans.

You used the kitchen to make your own meals. You'd been cooking for yourself for a long time, so it was no biggie. There was plenty of stuff with a long shelf life stored away, so you didn't even have to go shopping that much. You made it a point to stay away from town as much as possible, only getting the essentials at odd, not-busy hours of the day. You were pretty invisible and unnoticeable, but you could appear only so many times out of nowhere before people began to wonder where that teenager lived if not in town.

It was actually pretty chill. A whole school to yourself. Sometimes, you pranced around, pretending like you owned the place. That was fun. Honestly, it wasn't that different from how you spent your days at school, except with less studying.

One key difference, though, was how you spent the full moon. For a wolf like you, it was vital to shift as often as possible in order to maintain a steady grip on reality during the full moon. Even so, due to your type being prone to feral behaviour, you were used to being locked up every full moon. You couldn't properly secure the cage from the inside.

You tried to do it the first time but woke up in the woods the next morning. Tough luck. Usually, you were able to maintain some lucidity during the shift, but you suspected that was due to the magical influence of the cage. Outside of it, your power was untapped and thus, you'd blacked out.

You'd probably attacked a mountain lion or something, maybe a bear, considering you were covered in blood and gashes. You were quite sure most of it was not yours. A lot of it was around your mouth. You felt it in your tummy, the large meal still roiling around.

Werewolf healing came in handy. The scratches healed in no time, though did take longer than usual. The predator must've gotten you good.

You didn't bother with the cages the next time around. You'd broken the one you'd escaped from and those things couldn't be cheap.

Every day, you'd wake up in the morning and do your routine. Pee, brush teeth, put on deodorant, go down for breakfast. Go for a run, first in human form then wolf form, shower, snack. Study, read a topical book, snack break, study some more, nap. Chores, like laundry or dishes, make dinner and eat it, go patrol the grounds, sleep. On nights of the full moon, you'd finish your day with the patrol and only go to sleep in the morning when you found yourself naked in the woods.

You weren't really Christian in the sense that you'd ever gone to church, but your family had celebrated Christmas. You treated yourself to a big slab of ham that you wolfed down. Ha.

New Year's was much the same. A slightly better dinner than usual. Then you went back to your room to play video games.

It was all pretty boring. A nice vacation, all in all, but nothing too thrilling. A little modern survivalist. Your roommate came back along with the rest of the student body. She scowled at you in greeting as always. It was quite jarring, going from the echoing, empty hallways to every corner being packed. It was loud.

Something you hadn't expected, though, was that your stay was cause for concern. You probably should've come clean immediately to avoid all this. They took stock of the kitchen and found things missing as well as some unaccounted-for fresh ingredients. God forbid you wanted to eat vegetables. The broken werewolf cage caused a stir, which you could understand. The common consensus was that those things were unbreakable.

People thought that somebody, an outsider, had broken in and lived in the school. There were rumours that they were still at Nevermore, lurking, watching. Some speculated it was Tyler, the Hyde.

That theory was disproven soon enough, as Sheriff Galpin came to the school to give a public announcement. His son had been missing for quite some time, as he had escaped the vehicle transporting him, but had recently been found. Or, rather, his remains had been found.

The sheriff implied that the person who'd invaded Nevermore might have likely been his son's killer. To the public, the case was made out to be as if Tyler had somehow slipped away from the cops transporting him to juvie, gotten lost in the woods, and been victim to an animal attack. Everybody knew what animal attack really meant.

If anybody knew anything, they were to come to him at once. Nobody stepped up. Not even you, especially not you. You were sweating bullets, antsy and sick to your stomach. Had you attacked him? Eaten him? Were you a cannibal now? Oh no, what if you got that brain disease from this? Oh no, you had probably eaten a person.

You should've said something. You should've given yourself in. The teachers would've made you go back to your carers despite them being labelled as unfit in your file, but that was just how things were. You should've been able to stomach that. You did so every summer. If you'd told the truth to the teachers or the sheriff, you'd have been arrested for murder, probably. It would mean proving every presumption about you and your kind right, and ruining your life forever. You didn't want that. Wasn't that what you deserved, though?

Weeks passed. School started up again. The snow was slow to melt, the frigid temperatures clinging to the stone walls of Nevermore, causing a permanent chill to permeate the halls. Adding to the dreary atmosphere was the sad reality of the principal not being a tall woman clad in all white at all times, but the frumpy vice principal Frankenfroot, and the unease created by the mysterious invader.

Amidst the all-around grey atmosphere, stood out one girl. Enid Sinclair. You hadn't been paying as much attention to her as before, with all this mystery bullcrap stressing you out beyond belief.

She'd skipped the first couple of Werewolf Studies classes, so it took you a while to be near her. You assumed she'd been given some private lessons to make up for the years she was unable to participate in the practical aspects of the class.

You hadn't seen much of her during or immediately after the whole ordeal last year, so the changes to her were very stark to you. The scars, now only slightly more pink than the rest of her skin, stood out. As far as scars went, they were pretty fortunately placed and fairly clean. No jagged lines or disfigurement. Aesthetically pleasing scars. And even if she hadn't had such luck, you bet she would've rocked them just the same. They looked nice. Was that okay to say about scars? How could you be a foot-in-mouth in your own head?

Also, she smelled different. More wolfy, less perfumy. You liked it. The musky earth smell definitely added to her usual floral notes.

"Um, hey, so..." Enid said as she packed her books into her bag. "Excuse me, uh, what's your name?" You tapped your finger on your chin, trying to put yourself in her shoes. You had plenty of scars. None on your face, though, There was a pretty gnarly one going from your collarbone to the back of your ear, though.

"Hey," Enid's voice came alarmingly close to you. You turned your head. She was looking right at you. Why was she looking at you?

"Are you ignoring me?" She asked, bag on her shoulder and a slightly offended look on her face.

"What?" You blurted out, looking around. The classroom had emptied. "Are you talking to me?"

"Who else?" She sassed. You supposed that should've been obvious.

"Sorry. Sorry! Um. What were you saying?" Trying to be as normal as possible, you got up to pack your own things. You hoped she couldn't see your knees wobbling.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to form a pack with me." She seemed to relax, maybe getting the vibe you weren't trying to agitate her on purpose.

"Huh?" Your hands shook. You held onto your backpack with white knuckles. "Aren't you gonna join the school pack?"

There was the school pack, which was led by the professor during full moon runs, but there was also the option of forming your own pack. Some of the seniors did that, mostly pack-leaders-to-be getting in some practice before the real deal.

You'd spent a good chunk of the break working to accept that Enid was going to be leaving you for the school pack. You'd been so prepared, so ready, to be ditched that now that she wasn't doing that, you had no idea how to act.

"I don't wanna be around them. They didn't give a fuck about me until I shifted, and when I finally did suddenly they wanna be all buddy-buddy!" She huffed and gestured with her arms. She was so animated. "I just feel like that's fake AF. That's not how you care about a person, y'know?"

"Totally." You whispered, sounding a little too reverent. "Um, I would love to, I really would, but I'm a lycanthrope."

You waited for her to grimace, recoil, make some sort of remark. None came. Only her confused face.

"Uh... I know. We're both werewolves."

"No, I mean, yes, we are, but..." You wondered how you could explain this in a sensitive but also appropriately informative way. "You've never heard of lycans, have you?"

"I thought werewolves and lycans were the same thing." She said. Oh boy. Not an uncommon misconception, but one that could cost dearly.

"Nope. Uh, the bare bones are the same but some relevant details are totally different." You chewed on your lips a bit. "I've read ahead a bit in the textbook, so I know we're gonna cover it this year. I'm kinda like an experience-specialist! Haha. Um, so, if you don't care that's totally understandable and no worries, so I could give you a brief rundown if you want, but-" You took a deep breath. "I could explain it more. In depth, I mean. Like, a slide show, or something."

You sounded like an idiot. Who the frick offered a private slide show to an almost complete stranger? You'd humiliated yourself. Utterly humiliated yourself and your bloodline.

"Oh my gosh! I would love that!" She said, probably just not showing how she felt bad for you. "Can I bring my girlfriend?"

You didn't know they'd begun dating. You would've expected to hear those news circulating around the school, but apparently not. Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal.

"Wednesday? Oh, yeah, she can come." You thought about that for a moment. "I think she'd find lycans very interesting."

"That..." Enid pursed her lips and tilted her head. "Huh. I see. Are lycans like, more bloodthirsty or something like that?"

"Kinda," That was sort of a disparaging stereotype, but it was rooted in some truth. The reality was much more convoluted.

"When and where?" She pulled out her phone. Probably making a note. You were important enough for a note?

"Um, my roommate doesn't spend a lot of time in our room so we could do it over the weekend at mine? I'm in Juliet Hall." Your hands trembled as you dug your phone out of your pocket. "I- I could add you. If you wanted."

"Yeah! What's your user?" You said it. "Got it. I added you, add me back!" You did as she asked, vision blurring with the intensity you were staring at the screen. "Fab! I'll text you details later tonight, yeah?" At your nod, she whirled around. "Gotta dash! Bu-bye!"

"Bu-bye..." You murmured after her.

Notes: A new series! This time Wenclair. Or, a platonic OC/Enid with a side of Wenclair. I've been ruminating on this concept for a long time, so I wanted to put it out there as soon as I finished my last series. I totally get if this isn't people's cup of tea, the focus is off the main attraction after all, but y'know. It's here. Do what you will.

This whole thing was borne of me wanting Enid to have a werewolf friend. She deserves a buddy to be dogs with! Also, world-building with werewolves is so fun! Fun fact about me, I'm a seasoned omegaverse writer :) We'll see if I get to do any of that in my later series teehee.

If you wish to be on the taglist, comment so on this post!

#wednesday netflix #wednesday x enid #wenclair #wednesday spoilers #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wlw #lesbian enid sinclair #lesbian wednesday addams #fic: the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions)

[stopaskinf]

“If I couldn’t have you as a picture on my side, I’d rather die”

Summary: Something’s been following you. Yoongi doesn’t seem too concerned though.

Genre: Yandere Yoongi, dark fic, lowkey dead dove do not eat?

Word Count: 0.5K

CW: Cursing, Heavyyyyyy Stalking, implications of breaking and enter, reader feeling objectified, lowkey paranoid reader but for good reason

A/N: This week has not been great for me, so idk send me money or reblog this for me to feel better 🙃

Min Yoongi is omnipresent.

You’re being followed.

You’re unsure about many things, except for the fact something is following you.

You hear its footsteps as you walk down the sidewalk. The footsteps are light, unnoticeable to anyone else except you.

The constant shuffling that occurs as the sole of their shoes scrape the concrete. The squeaks that occasionally interrupt to feast on the surrounding sounds around. It’s deafening.

Its figure looms over you everywhere.

Hallways. Elevators. Work. With friends. With family. With strangers who take too much of an interest in you.

You can’t put a name, face, or smell to it. There’s nothing you can define it by or associate with other than you. All you know about it is that it’s everywhere.

They’re your shadow.

You sit on carpeted floor in Yoongi’s living room, shaking. He’s not there, but he hears everything you’ve said. He listening. He’s always listening.

Yoongi is in the kitchen prepping kimchi to go with the savory dinner he promptly made once he knew you were coming. He knows you haven’t eaten. Once you get off work, you’re too tired to cook, so you miss dinner altogether. Additionally, he knows you hate frozen food and store-bought kimchi. It never tastes as good as when something is handmade.

“Stop scratching that scab. It’ll get infected.”

The man has eyes in the back of his head.

He’ll never look you straight in the eyes. Still, he knows

every move you make.

His dark orbs are constantly covered by the flowy bangs that frame his fame. They’re always pointed down or focused on another task as if focusing on you would destroy him.

Although, you feel the power his stare holds.

When you leave his house after a long night, you swear you can sense his eyes peering down at you. They detach themselves from his sockets and follow you to what is supposed to be the privacy of your home.

You have a vivid memory of having sleep paralysis. You woke up to darkness encasing you and faint breaths alerting you. You adjust your eyes and you see it. You fucking see it. That fucking creature. It takes the shape of a man, but you know better. No man’s eyes are that malevolent. The one whose eyes bore into your soul as if it is all-knowing. They wouldn’t need any other part of their body to infiltrate yours. Those disgusting, beady dots that waiver as you make eye contact are more than enough for them. The eyes that dare you to try and run. It’ll find you anyway.

As a child, you used to beg and plead with your parents to let you sleep with the lights on. The night hid things. It made everything, even yourself unrecognizable. To you being in the dark was chaos. It was being abducted and held hostage by the void itself.

When you see those eyes stare at you all those years later, you think about your intrinsic childhood fear.

Child you had a point.

Yoongi lays your finished plate of food down in front of you.

In that second, you get a good look at his eyes.

They’re the same.

#idol x reader #kpop fanfic #bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #yandere bts #yandere idol #yandere #yandere yoongi #yandere kpop #yandere male #kpop boys #kpopidol #kpop #kpop bts #bts suga #suga #kpop yandere #kpop idol #idol #bts scenarios #bts army #bts yoongi #bts yandere

[xvysarene]

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒 𝕋𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.2k Genre: Suggestive Notice: Profanities (mild) A/N: A fun challenge to write something similar to Zayne's Stress Relief. Please give some love to it too! 💙

“What is cooking?”

Rafayel’s words infiltrated through the growing tumult in your mind, to the extent that you failed to register the stopping of the shower’s sound.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting him in just the perfect light. The glow of his skin was amplified by the deep richness of the navy button-front shirt he chose for the day.

His complexion had a rosy hue, giving him a fresh and healthy appearance.

You didn’t even realised he had brought a change of clothes last night. “Just pancakes, do you want some?”

“I’m good, Thomas is picking me up soon,” he said, approaching with a noticeable skip in his steps. “Though, if there are any leftover strawberries, I'd gladly have some.”

After you gestured to the appliance behind you, indicating he could help himself, he eagerly rummaged through the fridge.

A satisfied groan escaped his lips as he savoured the succulent strawberries, sending shivers running down your spine as it reminded you of the voices he made on a different occasion.

One that involved both of you lying horizontally on the bed…or even vertically on the living room last night. The dried champagne stain on your carpet was a reminder of what had happened.

You heard the click of the fridge closing before feeling arms looping around your waist. His fingers spread wide, tracing the curves just below your breasts with a deliberate touch.

“Raf—Rafayel, what are you doing?” you stuttered.

The batter spoon fell with a clang to the kitchen counter, feeling his lips grazed your skin, warm breath against your ear as he leaned in closer.

“I couldn’t resist,” his voice dropped with desire. “You’re irresistible looking like this.”

Perhaps he should have his eyes checked. He looked like a model ready for a photoshoot, while you felt like a rag with your shorts and oversized shirt.

“You’re going to burn my apartment,” you muttered, but couldn’t help leaning back further as you felt him nibbling on your ears slightly.

You always turned to putty in his hands. His touch was too tantalizing, too tempting to resist.

“You can move in to my place.”

Swift fingers turned off the stove and turned your head gently, claiming your lips. He tasted like sweet strawberries with a hint of tartness, a delicious combination.

One hand massaged your breasts alternatively before moving lower, long fingers meeting bare skin as they slipped past your shorts’ waistband.

“Fuck,” you heard him growl, not expecting you to be bare-bottomed and soaked, so ready for him.

The taste of strawberries lingered on your lips even after you parted, a constant reminder of the indulgence you allowed yourself to succumb to.

Rafayel pressed his forehead against the hollow of your neck, taking a deep breath. “Are you free tonight?”

“Yes—No,” you quickly revised, head clouded with the sensation of his lips peppering sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“Anyways, call me whenever you get home,” he continued, unaware of your wavering resolution. You gasped as he shifted, feeling the unmistakable bulge pressing against your backside. “Or I’ll just wait for you here after my work is done for the day.”

With one tight squeeze, he released you and walked over to the sink, washing the apple that you hadn’t even noticed he had set aside from the fridge earlier.

Busying his hands as if he was restraining himself from spreading you onto the counter right then and there.

“I’m changing my door lock.”

Rafayel hmmed and a crunch reached your ears as he took a bite of the apple.

“Rafayel, I’m changing my lock.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” He took out his phone. “Just text me the new combination.”

Heart pounding and not from desire this time, you faced him. A furrow appeared on his brows as his fingers worked on texting someone, probably Thomas.

You could hear him lightly muttering, “I'm going to be late for the interview,” his tone slightly frustrated.

“No, Raf, you don’t understand. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

That made his bluish-pink eyes snap to yours, confusion evident in their depths. Both of you stared at each other for a while before you saw his fish brain had an “Aha!” moment.

He snapped his fingers after quickly pocketing his phone in his white slacks. “You want to come to my place, instead? Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”

A coy smile played at the corner of the lips. “We should have another go at the bathtub this time, yeah?”

You exhaled slowly, telling yourself to not be surprised at the conclusion he had decided to take.

“Raf I—” you stopped, feeling your confidence level lowering. “I want an end to this.” 

The crunch of the apple stopped mid-bite, the fruit inches away from his mouth. He looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“I’m one hundred percent sure that wasn’t what you said last night.” 

Recollections of feeling the plush sofa on your knees as he took you from behind remained vividly burned in your mind.

During the fog of pleasure, you did tell him to never stop with whatever he was doing with his tongue, hands, and…

You shook your head, face flushed in embarrassment. The sudden pulsating throb in your core made you cross your legs.

Rafayel smirked at the sight, knowing he had pushed the right button.

“Rafayel, no—”

“Why though? Hasn’t the sex been great?” The smirk was eventually wiped off of his face. “If you don’t like anything, I can always compromise. In fact, you should tell me more about what you like.”

“We agreed that we could end this anytime.”

Friends with benefits—that was what you rashly agreed on. No conditions, no expectations aside from the physical connection that sparked between you.

And yet, you knew that the feelings you have always had for him would threaten to spill over someday. 

“You have a new boyfriend, is that it?” his accusing tone irked you.

“What do you think of me? A slut?” you retorted through gritted teeth. Fury starting to brew inside you.

“Last time I checked, you are the one who can't commit.” The harsh remarks sent a tiny speck of hurt to flash across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. “You were the one to propose that we could end this anytime, no question asked.”

Truth was, you knew you couldn’t handle the heart break if he had laughed in your face for catching feelings.

His usually bright eyes darkened, an unexpected anger simmering beneath them.

“Fine.”

The spring that was in his steps earlier was gone, replaced by stomping. Hand gripped the door handle, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

“But don’t come running back at me later,” he threw over his shoulder before opening the door with more force than necessary.

Thomas’s widened eyes greeted him from the other side, his hand hovering in the air, seconds away from knocking on the door.

The manager would have knocked the pretty boy’s face if not for his fast reflexes.

“I pressed the bell earlier and—”

Rafayel pushed past Thomas, his brown dress shoes tap-tapping down the corridor.

With arms propped on the counter, you tried to support your body, feeling emotionally drained. “Don’t say it.”

Thomas sent you a pitiful look, one that you hated, and sighed. “Okay.”

“Thomas! We’re going to be late!” Rafayel’s voice bellowed from the elevator down the hall. Hopefully, you wouldn’t get any noise complaints from the neighbours.

“I’ll check back on you later,” he said softly, and ever the gentleman, closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the apartment that suddenly felt too empty.

Similar to the hollow left in the half-bitten apple. 

“Thomas, didn’t Mr. Zhao tell you that we only do shipments biweekly?” you said as a greeting as soon as you stepped out of the pickup truck.

The transporter that you had urgently hired popped up the cargo bed and began loading down the frames and canvases in a variety of sizes.

Hands perched on your hips, you sent Thomas a disapproving look. “You've got to be kinder to Mr. Zhao's back. The old man was having a hard time preparing all this, and I had to sternly tell him that I'm more than capable of helping.”

“I know, I know, please send my apologies to Mr. Zhao. I’ll compensate you double for this.” He waved nonchalantly to the direction of the truck. “Someone has been cranky all week, and he’ll cut my head off if these are not delivered today.”

You patted Thomas’s shoulder in sympathy as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t imagine.”

The two of you decided to help in moving the abundance of supplies Mo Art Studio had requested at such a short notice.

With the amount of tip that made your eyes cross, Thomas asked the transporter to wait outside for a while as he wanted to talk to you. The guy was more than happy to oblige.

The manager guided you inside, the private gallery’s air conditioning providing a refreshing relief from the bright sun.

Taking out the cheque book from inside his blazer, he quickly wrote the amount, ripped the piece of paper, and handed it over. Your eyes crossed for the second time that day at the sight of the numbers.

“Mr. Zhao would never accept this.” Shaking your head, you handed the piece of paper back to him, surprised that he really doubled the amount of the whole order. “Just write down per the price agreed; in fact, Mr. Zhao gave you a discount.”

Milky fingers took the cheque swiftly from your hand and stuffed it into your purse before you could utter any other word.

“How are you holding up?” he questioned, eyes beaming with genuine concern peered from behind warm gray, slightly purplish bangs.

Trying to act nonchalant, you shrugged. You had hoped to avoid returning to Mo Art Studio anytime soon, but it seemed fate had other plans, and it had come back to bite you right in the ass.

“I’m an adult, I can handle myself.”

“I’ve warned you, didn’t I?” he gently said and your eyes found the floor as you shuffled your feet. 

Thomas always made you feel like you were being watched under  the attentive, though critical, mother's gaze.

You had formed camaraderie with the fish boy’s manager, who often contacted or visited your workplace at Mr. Zhao's art supply store to place orders.

“You should never ignore your feelings for a fleeting moment of bliss, as they may overwhelm you in the end.”

You knew that this conversation was coming from miles away, but you did not hope for it to happen in under a week after Rafayel walked out of your place.

Thomas had visited you that day in the evening, and agreed not to mention anything about Rafayel before being let in.

“I get it,” you snapped and immediately felt bad. Ever the watchful mother hen to two chicks, Thomas had indeed warned you of the consequences.

You were the one too adventurous to resist a bite of the forbidden apple.

He sighed and engulfed you in a comforting hug, reminding you of your old teddy bear plushie. The feeling of his expensive blazer was soft against your cheeks.

“This changed nothing between us,” Thomas said as he took a step back. “If you need anything, call me.”

The sounds of footsteps and voices interrupted your response. Despite your shorter height, you could see camera crews following a couple past Thomas's shoulder.

Even through the gap from the dividing curtain between the main exhibition hall and the back door, you couldn’t miss the dusky purple hair appearing in your line of vision.

His face was adorned with a playful smile, while his arm was wrapped around an attractive leggy blonde.

“...and Mr. Rafayel, who is this lovely lady you're holding?” the reporter’s voice rang through the otherwise empty gallery.

Thomas's head snapped, and you heard a crack from his neck, along with some profanities escaping his mouth. It was surprising to hear such language from the typically composed manager.

Your eyes were focused on the blonde, who femininely covered her mouth, laughing at whatever Rafayel was saying.

“Y/N.” Thomas waved his hand in front of your face. “Y/N,” your eyes snapped back at the sound of his firm tone.

“Since when does he parade the girls he sleep with?” The bitter words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

He would usually keep them between the sheets, not in front of the camera.

“It’s not what you think. She’s an artist that he’s collaborating with.”

“Nevermind, it’s none of my business.” With a huff, you adjusted the strap of your shoulder bag.

“Y/N—”

You made the mistake of glancing in the direction of the couple once more. Chill ran through your body as you saw Rafayel’s eyes fixated on you, a mixture of emotion—anger and something you couldn’t place—passed through his face.

Dodging Thomas’s attempt to grab your hand, you waved at him dismissively. “Come visit the shop sometime.”

Days later, Thomas visited Mr. Zhao’s store, his presence a welcome relief from the palpable distress rolling off you.

After sharing a comforting early dinner, the two of you aimlessly strolled through the park just beyond the bustling streets.

The air was warm, gentle breezes rustling through the trees. Some people gathered for picnics or simply lounged with friends and family in the park.

You sent him a questioning look, noticing his unusual silence. Thomas slowed his pace once you passed the crowded area, leaving behind the sounds of children.

“Rafayel…he’s riddled with cracks, more than you can imagine.” You nearly trip on your own legs at his sudden remarks. “Despite the façade of carefreeness, he’s just a vulnerable guy seeking genuine affection.”

You stopped. “Thomas—”

“Listen to me first.” He motioned for you to keep walking, and you fell into step beside him.

“He’s used to the spotlight, used to people throwing themselves at him. Have you ever wondered why he jumps from one person to another?”

You hesitated, sensing that this could potentially be a trick question. “Because he can’t commit?”

“But if commitment is an issue, why did he stick around with you, when the previous ones were dismissed in a month, at most? Why did he talk about you so much to his aunt and me?”

Rafayel was talking about you to his aunt?

“Aunt Talia is the only family he has left, and I’m his only close friend. He doesn’t let people get too close to him because he had been burned before by their twisted intentions. They’ll discard him as soon as they’ve had their fill, so he pushes them away before he can get too attached. He’s got all tangled in the web of passing happiness they offer.”

All along, you had believed Rafayel’s short-lived “relationships'' were a result of his desire for freedom. Yet, it was rooted from others who had taken advantage of him.

Your heart constricted. “Why are you sharing all this with me?”

“Because I can’t stand seeing the two idiots that I care about hurting.” 

You weren't sure whether to be touched by his concern or offended because he thought you were an idiot.

“I’m not defending him for his actions, but you have to understand why he’s shaped the way he is.”

Thomas looked back as you halted, noting the troubled expression that crossed your face.

Desperately trying to protect your already fragile heart from further damage, you felt compelled to be the one to end the arrangement first, convinced that Rafayel would eventually cast you aside.

“I pushed him away, and he likely sees me as a leech now, just like what others did to him.”

He gently squeezed your shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault; you didn’t know all of this until now. But let's be honest, agreeing to friends with benefits was a stupid idea.” Thomas shook his head in disappointment, just like a mother dismayed by her child's poor decision-making.

“You came and disrupted his equilibrium. Rafayel is the one who needs to man up and learn to voice out his emotions.”

Thomas’s eyes flickered to something—or someone—beyond your shoulder.

“And perhaps, he has finally decided to pursue what he genuinely desires."

You turned slightly to see who had caught his eye.

To your surprise, Rafayel was frantically closing the distance, a comical expression of panic etched on his face. He stopped just before you, knees bent while panting heavily.

“Bloody cat…attacking me…from…the tree…” his words were punctuated by gasps for breath.

You glanced back at Thomas, considering whether he had planned this, but the manager was already halfway down the cobblestone path.

“I’ll leave you two kids alone,” he called out without even turning his back, waving as he walked away.

Rafayel was still trying to catch his breath, white shirt clinging to his body from the warm weather. Tendrils of hair stuck to his forehead, damp with perspiration.

“Are you okay?” 

He straightened up, face either flushed from running or embarrassment, you weren’t sure.

“Why did you never mention that you have feelings for me?”

“Excuse me?” you spluttered, taken aback.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Rafayel crossed his arms. A slight pout forming on his lips. "If I had known you didn’t want to see me anymore just because you like me, I would have skipped that boring interview and spent my day exploring every inch of your body, fulfilling every desire you didn't even know you had."

The gasp echoed loudly through the surrounding trees. Looking around anxiously, you made sure that no one—and heaven forbid, any children—heard his scandalous words.

“Rafayel!” Your hand came in contact with his pectoral. He was quick to grasp it, pulling you towards him. Arm caging you, preventing any chance of escape.

The blush on his face deepened, reminding you of the Wasabi Octopus plushie from the arcade. “I like you too, you fool.”

Rafayel tightened his embrace, enveloping you in his unique scent—a symphony of frankincense and sea spray, of earthly warmth and salty freshness. And you melted further, body fitting perfectly into his cocoon.

“I'd be content even if you only see me as a sex buddy, if it means I get to keep you in my life,” his voice was tinged with vulnerability. 

“That’s not healthy,” you murmured. “You are worth more than that.”

It was heartwarming to see him nuzzling against your hand as you caressed his cheek. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I was scared that you’d run away if you knew my true feelings.” He kissed the inside of your hand. “Talk to me, or scream—because I’m thick-headed—but don’t leave without any explanation. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Raf.”

Rafayel relaxed at your reassurance. “This is me being a hypocrite; I am the one running back to you.”

Face nestled in your hair as he breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar scent of your coconut and plumeria shampoo that you knew he loved.

It brought back the sensation of warm sand beneath his feet, evoking memories of the quiet lapping of waves against the shore, soothing his soul.

“...and running away from that chubby cat as well,” he muttered to your hair.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within your throat.

Trust Rafayel to ruin such a tender moment.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x y/n #love and deepspace x you #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x you #suggestive

[between-two-fandoms]

sorry i'm actually insane about this. we all know buck is good at cooking, he's confident, he seems to enjoy it.

maybe they're at his place and tommy is just watching him, and there's music and something about the way he moves and talks, explaining what he's doing and why and making tommy taste everything - it's so much and so good and tommy can't believe he got so lucky.

and they'll eat together and clean up together and that's as far as tommy can restrain himself, he has to pin buck against something and kiss him hard, sliding his thigh between buck's legs and telling him how hot he is, how gorgeous he is. uses 'chef' like you might use 'sir' or 'daddy'

Tommy watching Chef Buck = Buck watching Mauy Tai or Pilot Instructor Tommy.

100% yes to all of this. Never apologize for sending me asks about domestic bucktommy. I have been WAITING for people to send me asks about them. I'm so insane about this hc too bestie.

Tommy using Chef the way Buck would use Daddy is >>>>>>>>>>

Especially cause I hc them as switches and have been trying to think of what Tommy would call Buck for AGES.

Not me opening a new Word file.

How you described it is how I pictured it going down too. Maybe they've already had a few glasses of wine so Tommy's a little less guarded about how he thinks about Buck. It's just enough wine to get him a little tipsy and the warm homey feeling in his stomach.

Tommy is trying so hard to focus on Buck's words as he continues giving Tommy a cooking lesson, but Buck is wearing a short sleeve shirt that's one size too small so his abs ripple against the apron tied tightly around his waist. It doesn't help he's wearing sweatpants that has LAFD on his ass in bold letters and KINARD embroidered on the thigh. Buck looks so good, and Tommy's brain can't comprehend the words coming out of his boyfriend's mouth because he's too distracted by Buck's large fingers against the knife. The way the tip of Buck's tongue slides against his lips as he licks them to help him concentrate on cutting things properly. The way Buck looks so confident and comfortable, so intently focused.

Tommy gets distracted a lot when he watches Buck cook. The focused expression on Buck's face, the way he expertly chops the veggies and perfectly sears the meat. How he wipes a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his hand. The way he's so fucking competent when he cooks. Is competency a kink? Tommy needs to do research. Buck's muscles look so good in the kitchen lighting too, rippling and perfect and Tommy wants. God, Tommy wants. How did Tommy not notice how good Buck looked in the kitchen before? Is this how Buck sees him when they do flying lessons? No wonder he wants to jump Tommy's bones all the time. Tommy's crawling out of his skin watching his boyfriend work in the kitchen and Buck doesn't even seem to notice how hot and bothered he is.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 show #now entering smut land #otp: im ready for something #ren answers #tevan #firepilot #kinley

[loveemii]

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐜𝐬

|𝐒𝐟𝐰/𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 - 𝐄𝐉 𝐱 𝐀𝐟𝐚𝐛!

- Dating EJ can be a bit overwhelming, but in the best ways (most of the time)

- EJ is usually possessive and keeps you two secluded, and if anyone needs him he’ll keep you secluded

- But he has the best intentions, as you are in a mansion full of serial killers ofc

- Most of the time he’d spend his alone time with you hanging out in his room (or the living room if no one’s there/and kitchen)

- You two would be either be making out or cooking meals; watching tv shows that come on specific days and times (cause he’s just that guy)

- EJ would always be holding you, either his hand on your knee or holding your hand; he has to have his hands on you at all times (except when he has to leave to kill)

- He will also kiss you all the time, even if it’s small kisses like on the cheek or forehead. But he absolutely prefers making out :3

•

- Sex with EJ is never the same, he’ll have you in multiple positions in one round (cause again, he’s just that guy lol)

- Also he LOVES when you sit on his face and use his tongues to pleasure yourself; it drives him crazy

- Don’t even get me started on how he uses his fingers in you, he pounds his knuckles into you, and he loves the way you arch your back for him

- Especially when he gives you backshots, he likes to tug your hair and hear your cry’s for him

- He’ll degrade you all the time when you have sex or when he uses your throat to please himself (he’ll also praise you saying how good your taking him)

- During aftercare he’ll do the bare minimum, he’ll even let you use a hoodie of his; make you something to eat and cuddle afterwards

- Just don’t tell anyone EJ has a soft spot, or else he’ll fuck you to tears until you beg him to stop

thank you sm for reading!

i hope you enjoyed :’)

- please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes, thank you

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #creepypasta fluff #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x afab #ej creepypasta #creepypasta ej #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack fluff #eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless jack x reader smut #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

I need to know what the hell is up with Ephy’s family and their societies so bad, it’s killing me

I’m gonna ramble on a whim because I need copium [SPOILERS BELOW]

A main family and a branch family implies that Eph had at least 2 children, who of course went on to have their own children, and so on and so forth. Which of his descendants created their own societies? His kids? His grandkids? Further down the line? All of them? And why?

The quote “societies that sprawl and branch like veins”, these screenshots, and Remus’ dialogue in the beta confirm that there are several societies: The major ones (we don’t know how many, my guess is 7), presumably a bunch of sub-societies under those major ones, and possibly some more that exist outside of the major ones. The npc dialogue above even implies that there are levels of prestige (and pay), maybe even an established hierarchy present amongst the societies.

From what’s been shown in the beta, the societies have been fully integrated into Scala’s culture, with normal citizens (non-Keyblade wielders most likely) being aware of them, and relying on their prowess to basically run the town. Remus says that the societies are run by Operation Masters, who may or may not all be Eph’s descendants. But for simplicity’s sake, I assume they are.

Like.…geez, this is a lot to take in already, isn’t it? Would Ephemera have even wanted this? For his descendants to all have a set path in running this world as a dynasty. It makes me wonder if it was his idea, or an idea that was formed somewhere down the line

There are a lot of big questions to be asked here. I’ve mostly just been parsing through the stuff we know so far, but something I can give a lil guessy on with the limited info we have are the names of the other societies

Since the society we join is called the Baroque society, and I’m assuming that it’s one of the major societies I’m thinking maybe the other major societies are also named after other periods/movements in art history, like Gothic, Rococo…if that’s the case, it’s possible that there might be some kind of correlation between what each movement represents, the heads of the societies (Eph’s descendants), and the members/characters that are in those societies (like Remus and whoever else we meet later). I wouldn’t put it past the kh team to come up with something clever like that

It’s incredibly hard to make any real claims without too much concrete information…..I need to know more. LET ME IN! LET ME IINNNNN!!!

#khml #khml spoilers #kh speculation #this is very messy and I’m kinda just throwing spaghetti at the wall but #they are cooking fucking SOMETHING in this kitchen #[shakes missing link] give me the family drama!! I know it’s there!! I can smell it from a mile away!! #years of watching once upon a time prepared me for whatever insanity they can throw at me with this family tree #<- delusional #my posts #my theories #timeless familia #family feud scala edition

[chimerahyperfix]

RECIPE OF THE DAY

[OR: This was the most upsetting alternate looper option]

Long post because i have been cooking this in my brain for like, two months, and it's all-consuming. Also I'm not in the Discord yet because Anxiety so my ramblings had to go somewhere, and what better than one big fucking post yknow. I cast spell of fuck you mind blast on the tag/lh /j

TLDR for below: Siffrin words his wish differently, Bonnie gets trapped in a time-loop, and despite saying they're in a timeloop repeatedly nothing works and no one can help them. The normal ISAT absolute horrors ensue.

CONTENT WARNINGS: the normal ISAT tags [death, violence and trauma, suicide, self harm and unreality], Notable Pin on child endangerment and death, poisoning.

most of these get discussed ^ even if shortly

SO. THIS AU.

This is it this is my big one. Ignore me pushing the literal 12 other isat aus I have into a pile pls this is THE big one. I’m looking at the note I’ve stored all this lore in on my notes app,and it’s like. 35 fucking pages?

I've looked at a ton of alternate looper aus [that's part of the hyperfixation babeyyyy I need to consume ALL content forever and ever and ever] and I was like “oohhhh I wanna do that!!” So I literally just listened to music until I caught an idea and yikes. Looking at the AUs playlist now [it’s about 100 songs! Oops!] and I’m like [cartoony image of me laying face first on the floor]

This is a bit scattered because I wrote it over 3 days instead of working on the fic I’m supposed to be writing ooopsieeeee. Ramblings belowvvvvvvvvvv

It begins as simply as the game does. No one knows how to wish properly; so Siffrin wishes, because they know how to. The same folded leaf, repeated three times wish. Close to what is said in canon; different enough for the Universe to read it differently. No longer does Siffrin loop, because the wish isn’t about him, it’s about Bonnie and their sister. Siffrin’s wish is construed as “I wish Bonnie’s wish would come true,” and even if the Universe can’t hold onto Bonnie’s wish as they did it wrong, it CAN hold onto Siffrin’s.

And that’s the base point: EVERY LOOP, Siffrin wishes, because he wishes after he talks to them and that's where they loop back to, and its wish craft goes to Bonnie. A recipe for disaster with how much time they have!

They loop back when Siffrin gets crushed by the rock, because they can’t win while being down a party member. When they touch a tear, or when the sadnesses get the jump on the party and they all go down, or when they use the dagger equivalent [a poisoned snack], or when they get to the King. They Never Beat The King. Think SASASAaP but ISAT.

Bonnie doesn’t fight with craft, but rather craft-infused weapons. The wok and their pan for rock, a pair of kitchen shears for scissors and a cookbook for paper. Snacks for healing and buffs. And they have a cool friend that lives in the favor tree! [they get in fistfights like every five loops. Maybe it would be funny, someone just as willing to spar with them instead of trying to find the right words they can’t find because they’re a kid, if their friend wasn’t ALSO another version of themself, which bonnie clocks pretty late.] They pick up little quirks from their friends, like biting their nails like Belle, and puffing up to look bigger like Isa and stealing Dile's curses and closing an eye to match Frin's in focus. And maybe they start forgetting a little bit, just a little! The same thing over and over will get to you.

So everything essentially boils down to this. Bonnie specifically needs to be strong enough to beat the King, as the rest of the party doesn’t keep experience through loops. For a good chunk of the loops, they take advantage of Siffrin asking them if they need help and drag him into a training lesson that slowly goes from a whole emotional conversation to them quietly listening to Siffrin’s every word. [Siffrin fills this silence with random star facts that pop into their mind. This Is Important It WILL Be On The Test] Eventually the training becomes too tedious, so they start sneaking off to go fight sadnesses— and eventually just punch trees, which busts their knuckles— to get stronger faster! Everything goes downhill from there, with them forgetting to make food to them sneaking out at night to fight more to them getting reckless and uncaring; it snowballs down into “oh this could be considered suicidal confidence”.

Every loop, you say "hey, I'm trapped in a time loop", and EVERY time it is a big emotional thing that exhausts you to the point of going to bed immediately after, and everyone gets antsy and worried, and in the end the anxiety and trouble NEVER ends up mattering because the King still flattens the party every time. [And (shuffling through the sea of my notes for the au), imagine this from their situation for a second; Today, you tell your friends you are trapped in a time loop. They drag you into a long, uncomfortable conversation that makes you cry, and you go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge they will protect you, and you will protect them. You make sure he doesn't get squashed by a boulder, you make sure they find the key, you make sure they don't die. Tomorrow, you will tell your friends you are trapped in a time loop. They will drag you into a long, uncomfortable conversation that will make you cry, and you will go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge they've failed to protect you, but they're trying this loop, and you'll still protect them anyway.]

And then the King fight. He grabs them and he kills them and it fucks them up. [it fucks them up, until it too happens again and again, and eventually it simply is just another obstacle you must pass, because the second his stupid hand wraps around you like a ragdoll it’s over, so you just spit in his face to make him press the trigger immediately and not drag it out for forever- imagine the most traumatic event in your entire life, repeated over and over, until it looses all meaning. It’s still traumatic, it’s sewn into your brain forever you will never forget this.]

They tell the party ‘hey, I just got murdered’, and if this au was ISAT, it would go from having a memory that gave everyone a defense buff to a memory that literally stops you from winning, randomly attaching to a party member. You couldn’t get rid of it. They’d take every hit for you, and you’d have to loop back, because you couldn’t win with an unremovable memory like that. and that’s why they stop saying things, because if the people you loved would die to protect you, something you don’t want and have the ability to stop, would you stop them?

And so everything collapses, and from that point [the start of act 4] it collapses fast.

WHICH LEADS US TO ENDLESS MY FAVORITE LITTLE THANG

if this is transparent or not I don’t fucking know and honestly. After 2 hours of fighting ibisPaint X to make it transparent I stopped caring. o7

Slight design notes tangent: the fucking. Wispy things around their limbs just kinda move around them- yknow because black holes pull things in and they are one. Their like,,,, face spike design??? Question mark on what 2 call it? It’s designed to look like their hair lol. The little star-dot things on their knuckles are important smile. Eventually I’ll post a full thing 4 them (I have like 2 pages of random doodles of them it’s craaazy)

Endless (or Ness, later on) is Bonnie’s loop-alike. They’re a little angry hater and I based them on the song Black Hole Sun [therefore they double-dip in the space theming, the little scoundrel! Imagine being both a black hole and a partial eclipse!! Damn why you taking all the space theming for!!] which was the song the whole AU was based on! Woah! Damn you carrying ALL the out of AU lore in you! They’re anger over fear while Bonnie is fear over anger.

They make me SO fucking upset. Like. I’m not being funny anymore. This is THE most upsetting character I’ve ever written. They make me cry. My entire schtik is making horror and this little creature is the most upset I've ever been at a creation of mine.

Endless is a Bonnie who, without exaggerating, literally imploded from having too much wish craft in them— hence the black hole theme. They went through an unreasonable amount of loops [i think I noted down 400??? Probably not that many, but hey, leveling is slow when half the time you rely on a scripted event that has like 3 enemies. Never really pinned anything down, but it’s a CRAZY upsetting amount.] and just couldn’t win,, and they eventually broke, and begged for it to stop— and, well, with so much wish craft in them, even without the proper rituals the Universe just couldn’t ignore ALL this wish craft, overflowing, in one spot. They asked for help and it killed them.

And then they were at the tree! And they’re helping a DIFFERENT Bonnie, who they’re upset at because what. What why is this happening? They asked for it to stop, not for a whole NEW Bonnie to exist and to do it all over again, what is this what, stop stop it. And they have to keep watching Siffrin wish, and doom them to their endless loop, and they have to tell Bonnie no, the party can’t help them like they want the party to do because the party never could help them, and it’s just going to bring them distress and heartache. Bonnie does it anyways, until the very beginning of act 4: it goes downhill from there, until they’re worried This Bonnie will end up like THEM.

They’re not the most self-confident type. They give themself the most un-nicknameable name [Bonnie still finds one that fits— Ness. They reluctantly accept it.] [Endless vc: Ness? Like? From Earthbound???] they can think of because nicknames are a love language and they speak it, and they don't think they deserve it anymore because they've Changed, and trade out the nicknames they have for the party for things they learned from Siffrin in their own many many training loops: The Sun, The Moon, The Star, The Sky, and Bonnie is Supernova, because its cool as hell and Siffrin told them that’s what happens when a star dies, and they died. Open foreshadowing. They take to closing the same eye they made Siffrin the Star loose, because if he doesn’t get to see anymore neither should they— even if that eventually becomes a natural thing, something they do now to focus. They talk about a sister they have— had, because their world is gone and she never got unfrozen, they never learned if she was alive under all that icy craft or not, and they’re not Bonnie anymore. Ness is Bonnie, but Bonnie is not Ness.

And so, when act 5 hits, they’re desperate. They can’t see it happen again, because it erased them as a person and it was terrifying enough why would you want to see it happen again? they prepare to storm the house, bevause theyre strong enough to tear it apart themself, get stopped by the party, and essentially they’ve replaced Bonnie for a loop; which would be okay, if failing didn’t mean there would probably be Two Endlesses and No Bonnie’s. By the end of the au, Bonnie, lvl 99, is like bringing a brick to a stare down. Endless, in comparison, is like bringing a bazooka to a fistfight. They can’t face the King, they can’t, it would probably mess something up [the party has them pinned as being a kid by this point— wether they realise Ness acts a lot like Bonnie or not, who knows] so they panic and wave the party off into the King’s room and fights off the remaining sadnesses to calm down.

And the Party brings Bonnie down, and they fight a fake version of their sister [who they win against, even if barely, because Nille is their sister and damnit, Nille would never hurt them, not after giving up her life for them] and they have a breakdown, and then there's two of them. There's Bonnie and there's Ness. Bonnie confronts them and they get in ANOTHER fistfight, bveause how else would two angry ultra-powerful preteens settle things, and Bonnie convinces them to come along, because their identity has been found out and damnit Nille really won't care, Ness is her sibling too.

[Nille approaches the situation carefully, but Bonnie is right: Nille sees the two of them and immediately decides she has two siblings and she wants to protect them. Both of them went through so, so much, and they saved the country and damnit it would be monstrous to throw Ness out to the wolves because they Changed. Aka I was physically incapable of letting Ness dissapear or have a bad ending they deserve the world too.]

I just I jsutt. Auguhghghghhh. au too big in my brain spill it out on the floor it goes everywhere. When you hyperfix on your own au

#isat #in stars and time #isat au #isat bonnie #<- this is abt them. uh oh. #recipe of the day #anyways the au title is based on a shitty joke I made once #also “”’hey chef what’s for dinner? slop! slime!’ #something something the recipe of the day is timeloop soup. yknow. a timeloop au. and soup……. #who let me in the kitchen. someone take me out before I burn the place down #I have. so many thoughts about this au #most of which boil down to me screaming and crying #I know there are multiple other AUs where Bonnie loops but counterpoint #has an alt looper au ever not had the looper wish? #[pushing divine intervention behind me. no that does not exist in this question] #I really like twisting au tropes on their heads :) #‘I don’t want to tread on other ppls ideas’ handshake ‘three month au hyperfix lets fucking go let’s yap’ #they can and will coexist heart emoji. #I think about this au a lot. I’m cooking so much art #(yknow. aside from being the worlds slowest artist. oop) #I’ll prob post abt it every now and then (aka when I finish the fucking art) #but for now. laying my au cards down #endless is my favorite little being ever rn they’re such a little hater

[familyabolisher]

an annoying corollary to the whole "self-flagellating for crime of being a customer" thing is when people make perfectly legitimate and polite complaints to me at work and apologise five billion times for doing so like i don't care....

#.txt #lady ordered a med-rare steak that came out med-well #& complained and had it remade -- totally fair! i would too i hate med-well #but omg. she KEPT apologising for the complaint and saying how she hated complaining at restaurants ALL NIGHT #table was vv sweet and nice to me but at a certain point it was just like. God what do u want me to do with this lol? #like if your stuff is cooked wrong we'll refire it and knock some money off your bill and get you a free drink or something #doesn't have to be this whole thing like my feelings are not hurt because a chef fucked something up #also just like now i have to stand here reassuring you that it wasn't a problem for us or the kitchen &c &c and it's just like #okay this is so fucking irritating....

[ashpkat]

i wish we had more content of their summer b4 bronze year (based off this post)

#i have a headcanon tamara cannot cook and every time she steps into a kitchen something explodes #my boys:( #also idk what leg is calls fucked up one so i guessed #no bueno this was rushed but i think it’s cute #magisterium #the magisterium #callum hunt #aaron stewart #calron #the iron trial #the copper gauntlet #the bronze key

[officialhouseguest]

while i’m ranting, i also have many thoughts about the kitchen strategy. which basically boil down to the fact that the point of using it is that cooking meals is another thing you bring to the table and also helps you forge social connections… it is not because women are meant to be your servants and so if they do not participate in your 1950s patriarchy simulator then they deserve to be sent home.

#bb25 #you’re 27 whole years old grow the fuck up and learn to do something for yourself for once #if they don’t actually appreciate the people who do cook and take it for granted anyway then there is no kitchen strategy to be had really #instead there is just the ‘don’t be a woman strategy’

[thedisablednaturalist]

surely a chronically ill person can go a day without EATING right? It's not like I'm managing a complicated illness that requires strict management right? And I totally don't need to be pain free for work tomorrow right!?!!

/sarcasm

#wrenfea.vent #sarcasm #tried to cook something for myself and my brother and my mom got home and saw and yelled at me #saying theres no possible way I can eat all that #except SHES the one who always asks me to make extra for my brother #AND I wasn't making it all for myself one serving was for me one for my brother and another for my lunch tomorrow #i cant handle being yelled at and i lost it and panicked because I couldnt get away from her #so i did scream for her to leave me alone #and now shes in the kitchen and i cant be in there #and i dont have any more food stashed in my room #and im not eating whatever shes fucking cooking #so she can lord it over my head like shes some kind of saint #but now my blood sugar is low and I cant focus #and she tells me if i dont like it i can just move out #funny because when i was trying to she convinced me not to and to stay home and save my money #i cant afford to anyway until my bf and I get better jobs #tw disordered eating

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

#latimers parents not mine!!!! i am NOT moving back to florida LOL #really hope that the changes will be good for my mental health. this apartment is toxic to us #ive been on the verge of meltdowns Kind Of A Lot lately. imnot doing great #extremely dependent on substances. just to reach a baseline level of functioning. but even that isnt working as much anymore #the only things i do on my phone or tablet these days is like. 2 mobile games. and skirting past my dms to check latimers blog #its too overwhelming to even open discord these days yknow. everything on earth is too much for me right meow #i havent been drawing i havent been social online OR irl i havent been cooking or creating #i havent been keeping up with personal hygiene like at all im particularly ashamed about that one #i've been really bad about doing my T the past few months which is a HUGE shame because im SO fucking hyped to be on it #theres just. too many obstacles in getting it done half the time. and the other half of the time i just forget #anyway. anyway. #our lease ends in july so between now and then we're just gonna try our best to tolerate our living situation enough to get by #there's a light at the end of the tunnel. and its called 'i only have to be in charge of like 2 rooms at most. and not a household!' #we're gonna try to slowly comb through all our things between now and then so the process of moving wont suck as bad #cuz listen. its pretty fucking bad right now #maybe not for other people. but it is for me. and its okay to let myself come to terms with that #im just. so relieved. still very stressed! but theres at least light at the end of the tunnel and its only like 2 months away #ill be able to draw guilt-free again. ill be able to just EXIST guilt-free #i dont think ive felt guilt-free for just existing the way i do since like. turning 20 #i know my mom wouldve loved if i stayed home forever. and im sad i cant be there for her #but ever since i had a fight with my dad at 15 or 16 it just really felt like he didnt want me there more and more #maybe as the youngest he was resenting that i was preventing him from becoming an empty nester or something. i dont know #because all the other kids had been moved out and on their own at least once but i had never left home before #i dont know if he'd be heartbroken or not to hear that i feeling like he was resenting me. but thats the energy i was picking up for years #i dunno. i dont know #anyway. back to housing. for now im going to try to relax and store energy for the moving process #the huge pile of things by the kitchen? i dont have to worry about that becoming permanent because we're leaving in 2 months #the general discord of the state of our possessions? we have to go through everything to pack it all anyway. we can move in RIGHT this time #when we moved in here we didnt have a car or license so we were dependent on latimers 3-hr-drive-away parents to help us move #just /across town/. and we had a whole month between leases! but it still had to be done in a weekend