#<- They came up with this tag for when I post about them

[cherrygirlfriend]

THE ART OF SABOTAGE ♡

♡ pairing: nerd bsf!rafe x girl next door!reader

♡ summary: your best friend has been in love with you for as long as he could remember, and he'll do anything to make sure you're not taken away from him; including ruin your relationship.

♡ warnings / tags: manipulation. jealousy. sabotage. suggestive. MDNI!

♡ author's note: combining two of my favorite things to write... bsf!rafe and nerd!rafe... hehe. should i make this a permanent AU?

RAFE MASTERLIST ♡

rafe knows that he should be ashamed of the kind of thoughts he has about you, the kind of thoughts he's had about you for as long as you've known each other, and he is, he really is. you were the only one who had always been nice to him; he'd never quite fit in with the others when he was a kid, meanwhile it seemed that everyone adored you, but you had a rule; if the kids who wanted to play with you didn't include him, you refused to be friends with them.

that's one thing that never changed between you two. no matter how old you got, if the people you hung around with didn't accept rafe, you had no interest in being their friend.

but something did change. the way he felt about you.

sure he'd always thought you were pretty, but the older the two you got... for some reason, it got deeper. your hair, your eyes, your lips, your body, the softness of your skin, the way your perfume smelled of a mixture of honey and flowers... you were the only thing he could think about, to the point that rafe felt guilty whenever he got hard, because he knew he couldn't get himself to come if he tried to fist his cock to something other than you.

when you got your first boyfriend. the first time you told rafe about 'jason', rafe felt... betrayed. he was supposed to be your favorite. he was supposed to be your boy.

it all came to a head the first time you cancelled plans with rafe to hang out with jason, around six months of dating him.

"hiii, rafe." you'd started the call with, like nothing was wrong, "hi. is everything alright? i was about to head there. i'll pick up snacks on the way." "about that, rafe..." he could already make out an apologetic tone in your voice, "i actually promised to my mom that i'd watch my sister." "well, that's fine. it's been a long time since i saw her, we can watch a child-friendly movie instead of horror. maybe coraline, i feel like that still fits the theme."

"i'm sorry, but my mom said i shouldn't have anyone over because of the stomach flu that's been going around." "but we always have a horror movie night on fridays..." "i'm sorry, i feel terrible. but we'll do it next week, okay?" "okay... bye..." "bye, rafe! you're the best."

later on, it was two in the morning, rafe was only slightly bummed over being ditched now, and requiem for the phantom was reflected on his glasses when rafe got an instagram notification on his phone.

JASONTHEMAN01 posted a story.

rafe didn't want to seem interested in the comings and goings of someone so intellectually inferior to him as jason and the group of idiots that were your other friends, but he still wanted to know what they were up to, just so he could look out for you. so maybe he had created a burner instagram, just to keep an eye on them.

but when rafe saw what jason had posted, it felt like someone had carved rafe's heart right out of his chest.

it was a picture taken of you and jason, the boy's arms around your waist while your arms were around his neck, the two of you locked in a heated kiss while something that looked llike a houseparty was going on behind you two.

that wouldn't work. jason was clearly isolating you from your only real friend. he probably manipulated and guilted you into ditching your plans with rafe for the party. yes, that was it. jason had to go. he was no good for you, didn't deserve you. he was taking you away from rafe.

luckily, rafe had made his burner account look like any average girl, using the pictures of some wannabe-influencer with less than twenty thousand followers to make sure it was more authentic.

rafe didn't even need to do anything complicated to get jason's instagram password; he decided to try different common password combinations; password123, password2001, jason123, jason2001, even your name and birthday (his own password) until rafe finally struck gold with the password 'lucky2001', the name of the golden retriever jason owned that you'd told rafe about.

remotely, he logged jason out of his own account, before getting to work. rafe created a lengthy text exchange between jason and 'jenna', his burner account. the messages start off as innocent, becoming flirty (initiated by jason) until it turns into 'jenna' sending jason nudes rafe had gotten from twitter and reddit, jason encouraging it.

the final blow? rafe wrote a long message as jason confessing his love for jenna. it wasn't difficult for rafe to change the dates of the messages. now he had a loaded gun, just waiting for the right time for him to set it off.

the day came sooner than he could've hoped for.

when rafe had asked you to go to the movies, you'd let him know in that you'd be going over to jason's, promising to go to the movies with rafe tomorrow.

you'd been at jason's house for thirty minutes, the two of you cuddling on his bed until jason needed to go to the bathroom, pausing clueless. your phone pinged with a notification, and you thought it was a message from your best friend at first, but it said that you'd gotten an instagram DM from someone named 'jennaabaker'.

'hi girly, i know you don't know me, but i think we've been having a thing with the same guy :/ i had no idea that jason had a gf, if i had i would've blocked him immediately. i'm so sorry, i never meant for this to happen.'

it felt like your heart shattered in your chest when you saw the screenshots; multiple conversations between jason and this jenna girl, flirting, all sent while he played the doting boyfriend to your oblivious face.

you clenched your jaw when you heard the toilet flush, putting your phone away.

"hey, baby." jason grinned as he returned to the room, pressing a quick kiss on your lips, "you wanna continue the movie?"

"let me see your phone."

"huh?"

"i wanna see your instagram. show it to me."

"alright, alright. geez, woman." jason cleared his throat, unlocking his phone and going on instagram. after logging on, he handed it over to you like he had nothing to hide.

there it was, clear as day. jason's conversation with jenna. and as you scrolled up, you could see it went back months. you scoffed and shook your head, "you fucking asshole. who's jenna, huh?" "what? jason furrowed his brows, "i don't know." "oh, yeah? then what's this?"

you handed your phone back to your boyfriend, jason starting to go through the messages with increasing confusion, "babe, i swear, i have no idea what this is, i've never even talked to this chick."

"i should've believed my friend when he said you were nothing but a fuckboy." you shook your head. "babe, i swear, i don't know who this is!" "do you think i'm an idiot?!"

rafe was laying in his bed reading the eighth volume of jujutsu kaisen when the constant ringing of the doorbell started echoing across tannyhill. the boy furrowed his brows, it was almost ten in the evening. abandoning the manga on his bed, rafe got up and left his room.

"who is it?" wheezie peeked her head out of her room, "do you think someone's breaking in?" "if someone's breaking in, they wouldn't ring the doorbell." rafe rolled his eyes, the younger girl still unconvinced as she closed the door.

rafe was halfway down the stairs when whoever was behind the door started banging on the door. the boy rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath, but when he pulled the door open, you were standing there, mascara running down your cheeks, sobs leaving your lips.

"wh-"

before rafe could even get a word out, you'd thrown your arms around rafe. he was surprised at first, but he closed you into his embrace as you squeezed him.

"jason... sniff... cheated on me..."

"oh, fuck." rafe sighed, glad that you couldn't see the smile on his lips, his large hand going to stroke your head. "he's an asshole."

that night, rafe listened as you'd cried in his arms, telling him all about jason and jenna, about how you two had fought for hours with jason trying to tell you how he didn't know the girl.

after a while, though, you finally fell asleep in rafe's bed with your head in rafe's lap, wearing one of rafe's hoodies, nuzzling into the fabric as the boy stroked your hair. it had broken his heart to see you cry, to see you that sad over some dickhead who didn't deserve you, but not even a single part of his body regretted what he had done. jason didn't deserve you, and it was just a matter of time before he'd hurt you. the sooner, the better. him being your favorite, him being your boy, was just an added bonus.

"i'll do whatever it takes to protect you." rafe whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

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join the taglist! ♡

[thehmn]

I said I was done and then you reblog with that photo!? At this point you guys might want to consider filtering some tags if you’re sick of this post.

I can almost guarantee you Kojima made him wear that because Refn isn’t a weeaboo. He seems way more interested in Vietnamese and Thai culture and their spiritual practices.

He went on a very long rant about white men being the least evolved type of human because, according to him, white men are the least spiritual creatures on Earth which is why they’re ruining our planet. They can’t sense what everyone else can and are therefore more materialistic. Mind you, it’s not that white men can’t be spiritual, just that they are generally less spiritual overall according to Refn.

The whole thing was brought on by one of his female family members having some sort of experience with a ghost in a Thai hotel room and the staff immediately calling a shaman to take care of the problem free of charge instead of dismissing her. The whole thing seems to have had a pretty profound effect on him because instead of thinking “Everyone here are just hysterical” he came to the conclusion “Something must be wrong with ME if I’m the only person who can’t sense anything in this room” He’s like the opposite of a horror movie dad. He can’t see it but he believes his family.

He also had an experience at a hospital where he was close to having a panic attack after his wife gave birth with a lot of screaming and even more blood, and then an elderly nurse called him over to look at the gooey afterbirth still dripping with blood and told him the tree of life is visible in the veins if you hold it up to the light and he thought “Jesusfuckingchrist women are tough and connected to the life force in a way men can only dream of!”

That’s also why in the last scene of his movie Only God Forgives the white male main character willingly gets his arms (which he use to commit violence against others) chopped off by an Asian man in nature. Refn explained that it’s a sort of symbolic castration of a white man by a superior Asian man. As a white man himself he obviously doesn’t think white men should be castrated or killed, just that they should accept that they’re less evolved than literally all other humans.

I got a bit off track there. Point being, do not ask me how much of this plays into his relationship with Kojima but it can’t be an insignificant amount seeing as Kojima appears as the biggest expert on all things supernatural in Refn’s Netflix series Copenhagen Cowboy while Refn himself plays a pathetic businessman who is forced to make a penis for another man.

And bringing it back to the matching anime girls photo, I’m sure Kojima likes a lot of things about the anime but I’ve also noticed he likes when anime has mature gay/bi characters in them. He’s one of the few Japanese creators who leaves you with zero questions about his age preferences; as mature as possible. Sure, people in their 20’s can be pretty and sell more games but 30’s and 40’s are better and now that he has entered his 60’s he finally seems to be the age of the people he’s most attracted to.

I’m sure you’ll all be happy to hear that Hideo Kojima is living his best life after leaving Konami. Not only did he get to frolic around with Mads Mikkelsen, he also got himself a sub. You think I jest but...

Translation: Refn is a kinkster who use his movies to express his kinks. He knows Kojima is a kinkster too who also puts his kinks in his games and that he’s going to use Refn for something that turns Kojima on, and Refn thinks that’s hot. Their’s is a relationship you probably shouldn’t dig too much into.

+ Bonus: confused and scared Kojima fanboys

[yumiblaze]

Cursed - Saja Boys X Fem!Reader Part 7

Hey guys I want to let everyone know I officially have reached the maximum amount of people I can tag so if anyone else wants to follow the story I post almost daily (And mostly just chapters of the story) so best just to follow me or check in everyday

PROLOGUE / PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 / PART 6

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was slightly awkward when Mystery came back into the room with a glass of water and Baby was still hugging you and crying like… well a baby. The mint haired boy did quickly wipe his tears and act like he didn’t cry once he realised you were no longer alone. He then left the room in a rushed manner mumbling to Mystery about not telling anyone about this on the way past.

Mystery just shrugged and brought the glass of water to you with a small smile.

“Thank you Myst.” You said using a shortened version of his name.

“Myst?” The boy repeated titling his head to one side. You giggled at how cute he looked with his head tilted like that.

“It’s a nickname for you, do you like it?”

“Yes but you’re the only one allowed to use it.” The boy replied taking one of your hands in his bigger warmer ones. As you sipped at you water you watched the purple haired boy gently play with your fingers. He seemed completely contented with your one hand, wiggling each finger and feeling how smooth your palm was.

You finally took a proper look at the room you were in. It was a lilac coloured room with a bookcase in one corner filled with all kinds of literature. The bed you were in was a double and the bed covers had a picture of a beautiful sakura tree covering them. Pulling them closer to yourself you could faintly smell the scent of lavender. The only other thing in the room was a small wooden side table with a simple lamp on it. It was a nice room and you started to ponder if it was a spare room or if you had stolen someone else’s bed.

You were also wearing someone else’s oversized t-shirt, probably because all your clothes were drenched in blood. It made you blush when you realised that meant not only had someone let you borrow their own cloths but that at least one of them had changed your cloths while you were unconscious.

It wasn’t too long before you heard the front door being unlocked. You didn’t think too much of it until Mystery put your hand down and stood away from the bed, uncomfortably crossing his arms over his chest. You put down your water on the side table and frowned not quite sure what to expect.

You quickly realised who was in the apartment as soon as you heard a symphony of rushed footsteps getting louder. The door burst open and three familiar girl ran over to you.

“Oh my god (y/n)! Thank god you’re okay!” Rumi practically yelled hugging you tightly.

“I was so worried about you!” Zoey sobbed hugging you as well.

“I swear I will find whatever did this to you and kill it.” Mira promised grabbing onto your hands.

You weakly smiled trying to hug your girls back. Your eyes flicked over to the door, Jinu leaning against the doorframe and giving you a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry for worrying you all.” You told them as they started to calm down.

“Did it hurt a lot? You need to describe them to us so we can find them! Did the nasty demon boys treat you nice enough? Did they feed you? Do you need anything?” Zoey asked one hand on your shoulder and the other gently cradling your cheek.

“It hurt but the boys were really good and they did an amazing job looking after me.” You answered truthfully.

“Don’t think this changes anything.” Mira told Jinu glaring over at him. “As soon as we get (y/n) out of here the truce is over and we go back to being enemies.”

“I know.” Jinu replied coldly.

“Though I wonder if she should even be leaving.” Baby spoke up suddenly strolling into the room, his chill laid back personality back.

“What do you mean?” Rumi asked cocking an eyebrow.

“Well this is the second time we’ve had to save (y/n), not to mention the amount of demons we’ve caught sniffing around your apartment while you guys were out and sweet little (y/n) was all alone.” The mint haired boy explained looking at your sister with bored blue eyes. “You didn’t even catch a couple of us sneaking into your apartment on multiple occasions.”

“You’ve snuck into our home?” Mira asked angrily.

“Only to protect what you’ve forgotten to.” Baby snapped back.

“Stop it.” You told Baby, not wanting everyone to argue.

Baby looked like he wanted to say more but after looking at your serious face he sighed and decided to look through his phone instead. Everyone was quiet for a few moments not really knowing what to say.

“Why did you save her though?” Rumi eventually asked looking from Baby to Mystery and finally to Jinu.

“You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.” Jinu replied.

“Yeah right, I bet you were just doing this to make us softer on you.” Zoey scoffed holding you protectively against her chest. “One good deed doesn’t change the fact that you’re a disgusting demon!”

You noticed your sister flinch as Zoey finished her sentence. You remember what Baby and Mystery had said about her, her reaction told you that it was definitely true. You wanted to ask her about why she was lying but you didn’t want to out her right now, as much as you were hurt she didn’t tell you.

“Can you walk?” Mira asked you uncovering you.

“She shouldn’t.” Mystery said quietly. “She needs rest.”

“I wasn’t asking you.” Mira replied glaring at the quiet boy.

Mystery didn’t verbally reply but you could hear him growling like a dog that was seconds away from snapping at someone.

“Mystery’s right she can’t walk home yet.” Rumi admitted pulling up your borrowed shirt and looking at the mass of bloody bandages wrapped around your abdomen.

“Oh my god my poor little (y/n)!” Zoey fussed her eye brimming with tears again. Even Mira seemed to grimace when she saw the bandages.

“We can’t just let her stay here.” Mira stated.

“Why not?” Baby chirped with a smirk. “We can look after her.”

“Ew.” Zoey whispered shielding you from the boy.

“Can we speak about this outside for a moment?” Mira asked Rumi and Zoey, who nodded in reply.

“Be right back sis.” Rumi assured you giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

You watched the three girls leave the room before Jinu approached you.

“You feeling better princess?” He asked you brushing some hair from your face. You nodded, smiling softly. “Good but you better realise we’re never letting you out of our sights again.” He told you gently cupping your face with his warm hand.

“Maybe I don’t want to ever be out of your sights again.” You replied leaning into his touch.

“Does that mean we can watch you shower?” Baby asked suddenly making you and Jinu both turn red.

“Baby!” You cried glaring at him, your face still red. The boy smirked at you, amused by your reaction.

“So is that a yes?” The boy pushed, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Baby I swear if you don’t shut up I’m going to break your damn phone!” Jinu hissed covering his red face with one hand.

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[gunilsguns]

Prompt: Jay catches you masturbating and decides to do something about it

Warnings/tags: sub!female reader, dom!jay, cunnilingus, masturbation (duh), fingering, blowjob, cockwarming

Wc -> 1.6k

A/n: My first ever publicly posted piece of writing + English isn't my first language, so don't be too harsh pls 🙏

Sunoo, your roommate's high school friends came by for another night. They were all too happy to see you both but mostly excited to watch the new football game. Meanwhile, you? Your mind was too busy thinking of Jay, one of the guys.

Together with them was Jake, your first crush. Nowadays, you didn't think much of him, if at all. It was quite fascinating how when Jay entered the picture, you were ready to forget that your crush on Jake ever existed. Not that he's caused you any hurt. Very much the opposite—he has been nothing but kind to you. But Jay stirred something within you, something almost forbidden, which Jake didn't.

It was no ordinary crush. Anything he did, however small, made you want to strip your clothes in front of him. To give yourself to him. A few times you mumbled fuck me to yourself, and he did hear you once, but you pretended that you'd forgotten something. He somehow believed you, for better or worse.

And, oh lord, the gym photos. Let's just say you weren't a strong soldier. Jay may not have shown too much in them—you've only seen his sculpted arms—but seeing him in a tank top was enough to make you salivate. That's why you didn't open Instagram in public unless necessary.

He didn't know that your mind was filled with absolute filth. And he never would've guessed because you always appeared composed.

Once, after a long night out, you found him asleep on the couch in your living room, manspreading. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb on top of him and give him the best blow job of his life. But you held yourself back. Someday, it will happen.

Truth is, the thought of him absolutely wrecking your world hasn't left your mind ever since then. Especially when you were in the shower, right before going to bed. You occasionally thought about inserting your fingers in the space between your legs, pretending they were his, but stopped yourself short every time. Not now, you tried to reason. The time will come.

However, that night, when all of Sunoo's friends came to your place, you simply couldn't contain yourself. Before you knew it, you were all alone in your bedroom, one hand gripping the bedsheets, the other's fingers playing with your clit, and moaning his name in desperation. Such was the result of suppressing your desires. The guys were too immersed in the game to hear you... or so you thought.

Ending up all sweaty and only slightly wet from your climax, you moaned his name a little more loudly than you liked to and cursed yourself after, silently hoping that he didn't hear a single thing. But, if you were true to yourself, you wanted him to hear. You wanted him to see how desperate you were to feel him inside you. Because you stroking your folds just wasn't it.

You wanted to see him unravel himself before you.

And then you heard a knock on your door.

Ah, fuck. It's him, isn't it?

You straightened your clothes, and when you opened it, indeed, it was Jay standing in the doorway.

"I'm pretty sure that was my name I heard. Is everything okay?"

"Uh, no, it was Jake's. And everything's fine. I thought that I needed help, but I figured it out. Now you can go and mind your business. Pretend you never heard anything."

For a split second, you thought you got away with it. But Jay was smarter than that.

"I don't think so. Because maybe... just maybe, I wanted to hear mine."

Oh.

You tensed up at the impatience in his voice. It sounded raspy, dark, and alluring, like he had been possessed with thoughts of you.

He closed the door and turned the key. You gulped.

"I know what you need help with. And I know you need me for it, not Jake. Am I right?"

It was no use hiding the deed. He's already read you. So you nodded.

"You have no idea how much you turn me on. There was a part of me that hoped you meant it literally when you said fuck me under your breath. My brain came up with all sorts of scenarios, and I think it's time we reenact them. And, of course, I want to hear yours."

His glare caused your knees to weaken, like it always did.

"So tell me, y/n, what is it you desire?"

His breathy voice made your vagina throb with anticipation of what's to come.

"I—I think you already know by now."

"Very well."

Jay pinned you to the wall and lifted your chin. He crashed his lips against yours and pushed his tongue inside in search of yours, passion pouring out of him with each movement. When he pulled away, his eyes looked at you hungrily.

"There's many naughty things I want to do to you. But first, let me help you with your little problem. Turn around for me."

You didn't need to be told twice.

You turned your back to him obediently. In turn, he pressed his body on yours, fitting nicely like two puzzle pieces. Just by feeling his rock-hard bulge on your backside, you already started seeing stars.

"Ahhh yes. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget about Jake in no time," he whispered in your ear, his hot breath and sexy voice making your panties moisten instantly.

You wanted to tell him that you have long forgotten about Jake, but the words died in your throat when he slipped his hand under your shirt and started caressing your breast.

"Ngh..."

His other hand traveled down between your legs and found the sweet spot you were aching for him to touch all this time.

You braced yourself for the impact. But you weren't ready. You couldn't have been, because what his fingers did to you surpassed anything produced by your imagination.

"Jay, mmh—!"

He kept thrusting and twisting while you were struggling to keep balance.

"On the bed it is, then," he growled.

He lifted you in his arms and unceremoniously tossed you on the bed.

"Forgive me for being a little impatient."

"I don't mind it a little rough," you said in a daze.

It seemed like you managed to unlock something in him by saying that because he started taking off your shorts and panties at rapid speed and buried his face in your cunt.

"Ahh, fuck yes!"

"You taste so fucking delicious, baby."

Your soul left your body. You didn't think it would get this far. And you thought you were more dirty-minded than him and all of his friends combined.

Your moans got even louder as he was further devouring your pussy, his tongue lapping at your juices like there was no tomorrow.

Jay was polite yet demanding. Gentle yet rough. And you were brimming with ecstasy. There was, however, one thing that irked you. Why the everloving fuck is he still clothed? You sat up and tugged at his checkered shirt.

"Aren't these getting in the way?"

"You want me to strip, sweetheart? Heh. You need only ask."

You only blinked once, and his pants were gone.

"How—when—huh?"

"Skills."

He then moved on to unbutton his shirt. The sight of his pecs left you stunned. Even the word 'glorious' couldn't do to describe them.

His neediness didn't give you any more time to gawk at them. Instead, he lifted your shirt and started licking yours, his tongue moving up to your breasts and sucking your nipples.

"Oh god, Jay—!"

You grabbed his hair in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing. He already gave you pleasure beyond comprehension, and it was time to return the favor.

When you managed to flip him on his back, you didn't waste no time. From licking his whole chest to...

The boxers.

You took them off of him slowly, and your gaze lingered on his cock for a while. He's so big. It was bigger than you imagined, and you couldn't help but feel intimidated.

"What? You can touch it, come on."

A bit hesitantly, you grabbed hold of his shaft and gave it a few gentle strokes.

"Do it harder," he hissed.

You gripped tighter, and he groaned in response.

"Faster!"

You not only quickened your pace but also leaned down to lick the tip glossed with pre-cum. His hips twitched beneath you.

"I'm fucking close!" he panted.

You took his dick in your mouth and sucked on the crown. His nth orgasm washed over him.

"Holy shit y/n, you're good," he sighed blissfully.

Frankly, you didn't have any experience besides watching porn (if that even counts), so his praise felt great to hear.

"So are you. Amazing, even."

"I'm glad to hear that. But I got a bit carried away, didn't I?" Even though his tone was confident, there was a hint of worry in his voice.

"If forgetting my own name means getting carried away, then yeah. I completely forgot about Jake, alright. But you didn't have to make me speechless."

"My bad," he said with a playful smirk. "Next time, prepare yourself. I'll give you the real thing."

Tingles spread all over your body. "I can't wait," you smiled at him gleefully.

Both of you lay in silence for a bit. Jay fell asleep rather quickly, while your heart had a hard time calming down. You still recalled how he kissed you and licked you senseless, how you repaid him in equal measure.

He did all those irresistible things to you, which a solo session could never replace.

[boybandbaby]

Want Me Back

ex-husband/dad!Eddie Munson x ex-wife/mom!reader

I was inspired by this post and this song and wrote a little something but it turned pretty angsty lmao

word count: 1907

warnings/tags: divorce, mentions of fighting, mentions of therapy/counseling, mentions of prior suggestive/sexual events, mention of bodily fluid from sexual event, kids

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Hey?” Eddie answers his phone, hands dripping with dish water as he cleans the pot he used to make Mac n cheese.

“Hey, Eddie.” You chirp back in a mousy tone.

Eddie hears the nerves in your voice immediately. After years of being together he believes he’s gotten pretty good at knowing when you’re anything but happy. Or so he thought. Thought you were happy until you suggested couples counseling. And when that didn’t seem to work (possibly making things worse), you’d provided the divorce papers.

Now, the only time you guys talk is when it has to do with the kids.

Three beautiful kids who are currently eating Eddie’s crap dinner of boxed Mac n cheese and oven cooked bagel bites and chicken nuggets. You sharp witted, sassy 15 year old girl, Stevie (inspired by Wonder, Nicks, and Harrington), a shy twelve year old boy, Lennox (Lenny for short), and an adventurous 6 year old girl, Jett, who changes her own name every other week depending on the show she’s watching. He’s talked to you a bit more recently in planning a small birthday party for Stevie’s 16th. It’s not only made things much easier for him because he knows absolutely nothing about a sweet 16 but it’s also made him miss you even more.

Eddie had missed you always though. The separation came almost 2 years ago. It started with living in separate rooms, avoiding each other aside from dinnertime. It wasn’t until your two eldest kids had cornered the two of you about the tension that you had to tell them the news.

It only got harder once Eddie had moved out, found a small two bedroom apartment. You’d been amicable enough to avoid any custody battles, letting the kids decide their own visitation and living schedules.

When the divorced finalized just earlier this year, Eddie hadn’t had time to wallow. Being a dad and living in a small two bedroom apartment wouldn’t allow for that, so he carried on as usual (as usual as he could do considering he not only lost his wife but lost his best friend.)

You were no better despite being the one to initiate the divorce. You’d asked Eddie for years to communicate better, spend more time with you, and ultimately you had enough of waiting. Of hoping he’d get it together and be a better husband. Even when he was a shit husband, he’d never been a shit dad.

He’d always made them his number one priority but somehow let his wife slip down his list, after his work and even after his friends and band sometimes. He shouldn’t have been shocked when it came but he never thought he’d have to bare losing you.

Selfishly enough, he loved that having kids meant he’d always be in your life, even if it wasn’t a choice. He missed you everyday and had hoped you’d get back together someday.

He didn’t know much about your life anymore, the kids knowing it hurt too much to talk about things that happened with mom and at mom’s house (and vice versa.)

Plus, he’d heard from Robin that you’d been asked on a date while you two were out shopping. Whether you accepted and went on the date, he never knew. He didn’t dare bring it up either, it wasn’t his place anymore.

He could disguise it as a want to know who would be around his kids but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate his interrogation and he knew he shouldn’t use his kids in his schemes to find out information about you.

“Hello? Eddie?” He startles, jumping and gripping the counter top. “You there?”

“Oh! Yes, yeah sorry.” You can picture him biting his lip, his sheepish smile, cheeks tinted a dark shade of pink. He shakes his head, clears his thoughts.

You sigh, one indicating you’ve slumped into the couch or bed, settling in for the night. “What are you doing?”

HUH!? “What am I doing?” His voices raises higher, brows furrowed. He takes a glance at the kids, both eldest seemingly deep in their phones at the opposite side of the counter. “The kids are finishing up dinner. Wayne brought some meatloaf but they didn’t like it so I-“

“Not the kids, Eddie. You.”

“Me?” He actually physically points to himself, though you can’t see. The kids take a glance at each other, little smirks (almost identical to Eddie).

“Yes, you.” You chuckle, “what are you up to?” He can hear you fluffing your pillow, probably turning it over to get the cold side.

“Oh… well waiting for the kids to finish dinner so I can clean up. Then we’re going to watch a movie.”

“Yeah? Did you like the meatloaf or did Wayne fuck it up by putting too much ketchup?”

“You know me, I always love Wayne’s cooking, too much ketchup or not.” His fingers tight against the edges of the counter, pale white splotches on his knuckles instead of his silver rings. “Is everything okay? I’m surprised you’re calling.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say good night.”

“Right… let me get Jett. She’s in the room playing with some nerd game Dustin got her.” He stands straight, hands releasing the counter, already prepared to head to the room.

“I already said goodnight to the kids. I was just calling to say goodnight to you. That’s all.” He can see you shrugging in his head as you say it.

Eddie spares a glance at the kids who are smiling at him, completely unsurprised by what’s going on. They must be involved in this. He turns around, leaning back against the counter edge.

“You’re calling me to say goodnight? Are you sure everything’s okay?” His voice is softer, less on edge.

“Yes, Eddie!” You groan, laughing. “Can’t I call to say good night?”

“Is that allowed? Like-“

“Allowed? We’re adults, Eddie. This isn’t like the one time uncle Wayne caught us on the couch and made us go no contact for a week.”

Eddie smiles, “he was so pissed, made me use my savings to buy a new couch. When I think about it now, we really shouldn’t have,”He lowers his voice. “Have done that where my uncle sleeps.” Eddie holds the phone to his ear, his other hand scratching at the back of his neck.

“I’m pretty sure Stevie was conceived on that couch.” You tease.

“Actually, I think it was on the new couch. We said we were christening it.” His hand slips down his neck, holding onto a strand and twirling it around his pointer finger.

“I definitely think Wayne knew we did. He started putting a sheet over the couch after that.”

Eddie nearly giggles, reminiscing on the horror of you two trying to scrub out a small patch of bodily fluid and drying the soapy puddle with a fan.

“Wow, dad.” Stevie shakes her head. “You’re acting like a teenage girl.” She whispers.

Eddie pulls the phone from his ear, covering the speaker. He points at the kids and shoos them out of the kitchen. “You’re both not even eating anymore. Go brush your teeth and make sure Jett uses the bathroom before bed. Shoo.” He flicks his hand rapidly, ushering them away.

The kids hop off the bar stools, giggling. “Goodnight dad.” Lenny hugs Eddie’s waist before he follows Stevie to the room. “Jesus.” He breathes, chuckling.

“I hope the kids are behaving. Not giving you too much of a hard time.” You bring him back.

“Never. We have some pretty great kids.” He sighs, gently. He presses the phone between his shoulder and ear as he collects the dishes, letting them clang into the sink. He doesn’t even bother washing.

“We do.” You say, quieter now.

Eddie trudges to the couch, kitchen light shut off as he passes. His usual sleeping arrangement when the kids are over is for Stevie to take his room so the two littler ones get the bunk beds in the other room. It’s not ideal but he manages. Eddie sits on the couch, slipping his socks off and placing them on the coffee table. He remembers you scolding him for that, takes them off and puts them on the arm of the couch. He thinks that maybe if he’d just done it instead of complaining that you nag him too much, that maybe you’d still be his. He knows the socks lying around isn’t the only thing or even the main catalyst for the divorce but it might’ve helped him keep you, even for just a bit longer.

“Eddie, you fall asleep on me?”

“No, I’m sorry. Just getting ready for bed.” He lies.

“I should let you get to that. It was nice talking to you, Eddie. Like I said, I was just calling to say goodnight. I didn’t mean to keep you for so long.” You’re rambling, more so to keep him on the line, to keep you from not feeling lonely or even guilty of calling.

“It’s no problem. I’m always here if you need a listening ear or even if you just want to chat.” He reassures. He throws his legs onto the couch, lying back and propping one hand behind his head. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“You sure about that? I remember you saying my voice was aggravating.” You hiccup, recalling the very big fight in the last therapy session. Your words have a bite to them, more hurt than any anger.

“Y/n-“

“No Eddie, it’s okay. I’m sorry for calling.”

“Don’t be. Seriously. I miss this.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” He hears a tinge of oncoming tears from your end, his own eyes watering at the thought.

“Goodnight…” he trails, one of the many cringey, lovey dovey, pet names he used to call you, at the tip of his tongue.

“I love-“ You choke on your words. “Tell the kids I love them.”

“I will.” He says, honestly, earnestly. The line is silent, a quiet low buzz where neither of you hang up just yet.

He can hear you breathing, maybe even sniffling. Before he can say anything else, three beeps ring harshly into his ear. He looks at the screen, call ended and the wallpaper of the home screen reminding him of what he lost. He’s glad all his disorganized apps cover the picture of the two of you, young and first child on the way, grainy and low quality. He locks his phone, setting it onto his chest as he turns to face the window, moonlight cast along his face.

You’re nearly in the same position, staring at the faint stars and streetlights through your sheer curtain.

Maybe on another night, a night where you were feeling more bold, you would have gotten up and went to his apartment. Would have attempted to mend things, try again. But tonight, feeling a bit pathetic for calling, even if your kids encouraged it as a TikTok trend. Feeling vulnerable and lonely and wishing you’d never given up on him, on both of you, you decide it’s better to not push it. You decide that maybe calling him wasn’t the best idea and definitely set you back on your journey to get over him, to move on. But you can’t move on, can’t get over him because he’s not only the father of your kids and will always be in your life. He’s your first and only love, he’s Eddie Munson.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[tr4gictea]

Something to Fight For — Chapter 2

[Yandere!Villain!Class 1-A + Reader]

❥Masterlist

Tags: Slow Burn, Fighting, Acts of Violence, Threats, Cursing, Blood, Rainbow Baby, I tweaked Bakugo's past a little, Hurt Kinda Comfort, Angst, Tiny Itty Bitty Little Themes of Yandere

Including: Gender Neutral!Reader, Katsuki Bakugo, Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Ejiro Kirishima, Hanta Sero, Eri (Mentioned), & Monoma (Mentioned)

Word Count: 2.1k Words

[A/n]: Omg i opened up my inbox today and saw multiple paragraphs about an idea for this series and I was so happy :D Ya'll have no idea how happy I get when I see people just leaving notes on my post IM SO HAPPY ASDKFHJFHADLGH. Also, idk if i mentioned this but the reader is gender neutral, so any person of any gender can read this. If i fuck up and accidentally leave a pronoun other than they/them let me know pleaseee. Do ya'll freak with the chapter length or should I do longer chapters?

⟸ Chapter 1 | Directory | Chapter 3 (Coming Soon...) ⟹

All of a sudden he stops, “You have no right to wear their face…” Katsuki seethed through his teeth as he spoke. “...and mock us with their voice.” 

You both let the room get quiet. Too quiet.

Then he raised his arm and sent off an explosion straight to your head.

You jerk back in shock and hit the display case behind you, “Kats, what are you-!” 

BOOM! 

Your quirk speed heightens as your heart beat races. Another shot was aimed at your way and you used your quirk to zoom out the shop.

You whipped your head around to see your other classmates standing there just watching?! You yell out to them, “Guys, what’s going on-?!”

Before you could finish a punch landed on your side and you were sent tumbling down the street. You coughed and held your stomach, the taste of blood filled your mouth as you hunched over in pain. 

“Hey, asshole!” Katsuki's gruff voice called out to you, “You’re not fighting them, you're fighting me.” He says as he points to himself.  A feeling of dread fills you, as you remember how hard the blonde goes in training. The explosive man begins to walk closer to you and you rapidly push yourself up. 

“So don’t expect them to be fooled into helping you because you look like that.” He scorns you as he launches himself forward.

‘Is there something wrong with my outfit?’ You question to your self as his hand reaches out for you. Thinking quickly you used your quirk to quickly grab his arms and you twisted them behind his back. Using your foot you kick in the inside of his shins forcing him to kneel. Landing on the ground he let out a low growl. “Kats what are you even saying-,” 

Your heard a short crackle and shout before an explosion was set off towards you again; this time it caught you. You seethed through your teeth as you shook off the pain in your hand. Frustration was building up in you as you couldn’t ask single question before being blown up. 

“GOD DAMN IT BAKUGOU!” You charge at him with your fist up. “STOP INTERRUPTING ME!” You shout at the boy as your fist comes down on him. In an attempt to block the blow he shielded himself with his arms. However, the combined force of the strike and the added power of your quirk made Bakugo wobble back with a groan. 

“Fuck you!” He spat back at you before he began to loop his fingers into your hair and simultaneously using his other hand to grab your left hand. Bakugo used his weight to spin you around in a 360 turn before smashing your head into the ground. His hands were still locked on your scalp with your arm and pinned them to the ground. The blonde’s knee came down on your back and you cried out in pain as his face lowered to your level as you struggle against his grip. “I don’t ever want to hear our friend’s voice come out of you again.”  You reeled back at the disdain in his voice, “You're an utter disgrace to the world, if you think it’s funny to masquerade as (Y/n).”

Confused, you pause your struggling, ‘Huh? Does he not think your, you?!’ 

“Dude! I am me! I am (Y/n)! Can we, please, just have a civil conversation?!” You plead with the boy, but your cries fall to deaf ears as he starts pressing you harder into the ground. You peek over your shoulder to get a look at Bakugo and he looks... in pain? His eyes are glossed over and he’s narrowing his eyes as if he’s trying to hide the tears.

You needed some way to convince him you were you, and get out of his hold. Your free hand started to blindly feel around for some kind of weapon, “Remember after the sports festival this year you - AGH!” He presses his knee into your back harder, “ -you tripped me in the semi-finals and afterwards you wouldn’t stop doing it in training. OW! And at some point everyone caught on and now I have to take ‘Feet Coordination Training’ a-after classSS-! OW OW OW!” 

All you got in response was a sharp knee to the back and a, “Never happened.” 

‘Never happened?’ Your hand landed on something big and heavy. You quickly pick it up and swing at Bakugo’s head. He lets out a pained yelp and his hands loosened its grip allowing you to reel your head back into his nose. His hands come up to his nose and he stumbles back; you swiftly remove yourself from under him. 

“FUCK! YOU BITCH!” He wipes the blood from his nose as he looks at you with nothing but pure hatred. His body shakes as he stands up from his place. God you hated seeing him like this, the only time you’ve seen him like this was in the war. 

“Sorry Bakugou…” You apologize as Bakugo stomps forward and pulls up his left leg to land a kick. You speed blitz backward as his foot barley grazes you. You gasp as he quickly launches bac kat you with his other foot. “Bakugo, remember during the training camp you decided to hide a cave spider in Monoma’s bag.” He started sending an unending amount of kicks while  you talked and dodged, “But Sero ended up moving the bag and it clung to him an- Oof! And in the middle of the night his scream woke everyone up.”   

“H-how the hell… HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW THAT?!” His eyes light up a little before quickly falling back to a hard stare. It’s working. 

“Because I am (Y/n)!” You plead with him emphasizing the ‘I’. 

“NO!” In one swift motion he blasts himself towards you and lands an explosive punch to your gut. The force sends you flying back into a wall accompanied by a sickening crack. Your body falls to the ground as you hold your stomach. Fuck. This hurts. You try to draw a breath but you just end up in a coughing fit. 

“Any last words Mimic-Scum?” A shadow cast over you as Bakugo's boots comes into your line of sight. Everything hurts to move, you're too beaten up to physically attack him. Your gaze is stuck to the ground as your eyes glance down at Bakugo’s boots and you start to notice the dried blood covering the orange sole. What exactly happened while I was in that goo?

After steadying your breath enough to speak you give him your last memory, “A-after Eri was introduced to the class she came to you a lot to watch tv shows. You had more streaming platforms on your ipad and you didn’t mind hanging out with her as long as she was quiet.” You hear Bakugo stiffen and let out a small growl. “One night I walked in on you two and Eri had fallen asleep on your lap.” You let out a tearful chuckle. “We began to talk and at one point you asked ‘Would they have felt this if they were here?’ I asked who you were talking about and you told me about your older sibling.” You paused for a moment, only to gauge his reaction. He was oddly silent and you took the opportunity to continue.

“They got sick when they were 2 and a half years old, he passed away that same year. A year later you were born and you’ve always wondered if you were just a replacement. You t-told-,” A lump formed in your throat as you choked on your words. “Y-you told me how much their death weighed on you and wondered if you were even supposed to be here if not for them.”

“And, I admire you so much for how strong you are,” Mustering up the strength, you lifted your head up to make eye contact with Katsuki whose gauntlet was pointed at your head. His eyes were widened as tears threatened to fall from his eyes. His free hand was shaking as it was loosely looped in the safe pin. “Even if your sibling’s death felt like a burden to you, I’ve never seen you falter or break once! I strive to be as strong as you everyday. So please…” Your voice croaked as you gave him a shaky smile, “...if you're gonna kill me, stay strong.”

You waited a beat before closing your eyes waiting for the burn to hit, but it never came. 

A loud thud was heard in front of you, “(Y-y/n)?” Reopening your eyes to see Bakugo who's kneeling at your eye level. His gauntlets have been removed and were discarded behind him. You flinched as his hand came up to your cheek and whipped blood off your cheek. “It’s you.” 

He dove into you for a hug and pulled you limp-ish body close,“W-woah! Kats, what is happening right now?” You chuckle nervously at the sudden affection. You let him hold onto you but every second that passed the hug grow tighter. “Dude, I can’t breathe, please get up!” 

Air rushes into your lungs and you start coughing, “O-oh, sorry.” He apologizes as he pushes himself up. “We need to get back, i’ll inform the others of the situation, and-,” 

“Wait! Katsuki, aren’t you gonna explain to me why you just tried to actually kill me?! And why everything looks fucked up?!”

The blonde looks back at you and shakes his head, “Not right now, it’s too dangerous for you to be out here.” His lips curve slightly upwards before they settle back to the neutral face. “I’m gonna take you back home. I’ll be right back, stay here.”

"Not like I can go anywhere." You say under your breath as you glance down at your leg. You groaned as you tried to shift your sitting position, “Ughh…” Your leg was busted up real good, you could already feel the it swelling just under your knee. 

Katsuki had waved over your friends, no classmates... You didn’t know if they were still considered your friends after they stood by and watched you get beaten half to death. But they probably had a good reason... right?

Katsuki was only twelve feet away and talking in hush tones with the group, angry glares are sent Katsuki’s and your way. But as the whispering went on they slowly faded into confusion or shock. Throughout the conversation you tried to make out what they’re saying but you could only catch small increments. 

“...doubt about...” 

“They...didn’t they?” “Imp....” “...gone...” “...up like that...”  

“I... things... -uld know.”

“...back from the...” 

“Two... ago I was out… small base… two scientists… mistaken for… this just keeps happening… heroes.”

“...point?”

“My point is… -takes’ is connected… back to… somehow.” 

“And… they’re...”

“... Obviously… ”

“For now… wait… home to talk about…” 

You see the five of them nod before they shift their eyes to you. Jumping at the sudden attention on you your eyes dart to find something else to look at. Your cheeks heat up at the fact they just caught you eavesdropping.

Pattering of foot steps is heard behind as you feel a warm body wraps around in tight hug.

"AAAHHHHAHAAA (Y/N) IS THIS REALLY YOU?" The high pitched voice of Mina cries in your shoulder. You groan as the girl puts her body weight on you, your still sore from the fight and any little movement hurts like hell.

"Wait! Mina don't rush them so suddenly!" Kirishima's voice calls out to the pink haired girl. His voice seems to have gotten deeper and alot more raspy. "They're injured!"

"Huh?" Mina's head snaps up for it's spot and she glances down at your leg. Her face morphs from shock to disgust to angry. She whips around to face Kats who is looking around nervously. "Bakugo what the hell did you do to them!?"

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS THEM! GIVE ME A BREAK!"

Jiro approaches you and kneels down, her eyes gloss over your leg. "Your leg needs medical attention, we should get back home and get them checked out."

"Wait, wait, wait, guys you need to explain to me what's happening-!" You plead with them for answers but all you get in response is a small smile from Kirishima and Mina, and the others avoid eye contact with you entirely.

Nothing is making any sense and your friends(?) are not giving you anything to work with. When they give you the answers you so desperately need they better be good.

[A/n]: Hey guysss :))) So how was the fight scene :)))))) This is technically my second time writing a fight scene and I definitely improved from the last time but it's still lowkey ass.

Anyways, constructive criticism is always appreciated AND REMEMBER TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON, OBLITERATE THAT FOLLOW BUTTON AND, REQUEST FOR A SHOUT-OUT IN MY NEXT VIDEO 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥

More MHA/BHNA Stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Taglist: @stove-top96 @shinning-stars @katthekat1234 If you would like to be on the tag list just comment on the post and ask to be on it :D

[aventurineswife]

Hellooo 👋

May I request any of your OCs that you'd like + Aventurine and Ratio with a reader with severe anger issues? So basically reader had a rough couple of days which resulted in them just isolating themselves in a room to cool off alone with some work (not the best way to get rid of anger, but it works for them). The character doesn't know about this rough patch and comes home about a few minutes after reader isolates themselves. They try entering the room where reader is, resulting in them having a book thrown at them + the reader tells them to get out. Fast forward their next meeting where, in an awkward atmosphere, the reader tries to apologize. 🫶

“Scream, Then Stay”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Auron (OC) x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Fallout, Post-Angst Reconciliation, Established Relationship, Comfort After Conflict, Soft Men Being Soft, Supportive Partners, Throwing Objects as Emotional Coping, Gentle Apologies.

Warnings: Emotional outbursts, Implicit stress/mental fatigue, Minor aggression (throwing objects, shouting), Mentions of burnout/overwhelm, Implied past trauma or chronic stress (non-graphic).

A/N: I have too many OCs who could've worked well with this req 😭🙏, but I went with the one who suited it the most. Feel free to ask about Auron if you'd like!

You locked the study door, drawing the blackout curtains. The room plunged into the kind of stillness only familiar to someone who needed silence to not snap.

You had just opened your laptop when you heard the front door open.

“Darling, I’m home! Did the market rally while I was gone or—”

BAM. Aventurine nearly got hit by a flying pen holder the moment he tried opening the study door.

“GET. OUT.”

“…Oh.” His voice, for once, lost its theatrics.

He backed away, murmuring something under his breath about “hostile takeovers.”

He didn’t try the door again. Just slipped a folded card underneath that read:

‘Don’t worry, I’ll hedge my bets elsewhere for now. Call me when the market’s less volatile.’

Later, you found him sprawled across the couch, still in full IPC regalia, tophat still perched on his head.

“I, uh…” you began awkwardly. “Wasn’t personal. Just had a really crap few days and exploded.”

“Exploded? Darling, that was investor panic in physical form.”

You winced. “I’m really sorry.”

Aventurine gave you a long look before patting the couch beside him.

You sat.

“…You did dent my pride a little,” he said, feigning a pout. “I haven’t dodged a projectile that fast since the Penacony roulette incident.”

You snorted.

“But,” he said more softly, brushing his fingers across your hand, “next time, just say ‘I’m pissed off and need space.’ I won’t gamble on your mood then.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Deal?”

“Only if I get a kiss as collateral.”

The air was thick with shadow, the kind that curled at the edges of furniture and clung to silence like a second skin. Auron’s footsteps echoed softly as he entered the dim apartment. Something felt off—no soft greeting, no snarky comment from the kitchen. Just... silence.

He found the bedroom door shut, unusual for you. And locked.

“Darling?” he tried, voice dipped in a velvet tone of concern.

No answer.

He touched the handle again.

Click. The door unlatched from the inside—but only to open slightly. A book came flying out like a guided missile.

He caught it midair, eyebrows lifting at the force.

“Get out!” your voice cracked from the other side. Hoarse. Angry. Raw.

The door slammed.

Auron stood there for a long moment, thumbing the spine of the book. A well-worn journal. He could still smell your scent on the pages.

He didn’t knock again. Just left a soft whisper of shadow curling by the door—an echo of him saying: “Alright... but I’m here.”

Later, you found him reclining on the balcony, legs propped up on the edge of a chair, flame flickering lazily between his fingers.

You cleared your throat.

He looked up, eyes gold and unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “For the book. And the yelling. And the being a complete rage-goblin.”

Auron tilted his head, gaze softening. “Did you throw that book at me, or the world?”

“...What?”

“Because if it was me, I probably deserved it. But if it was the world—” he leaned forward, “—I’ll help you set it on fire.”

You blinked. Then cracked a breathy laugh.

He stood, walked to you, and cupped your jaw.

“Next time you want to scream, scream at me. Or near me. Or just let me listen.”

“…You’re not mad?”

“I’ve done worse with poetry anthologies,” he smirked.

Ratio stepped into your shared home, removing his gloves with precise movements. The moment he reached your study, however, he was greeted by—

Whack!

A hardcover on metaphysics narrowly missed his face.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted.

He paused, inspecting the cover. Volume VII of the Veritas Anthology.

“Hmm. At least you chose a book with weight.”

He didn’t force the conversation. Just left you alone with your storm.

Later, you approached him in the library, where he was rearranging scrolls by date and relevance.

“I, um… owe you an apology. For trying to knock you out with your favorite book.”

Ratio didn’t look up. “Volume VII is not my favorite. But I accept the apology.”

You hesitated.

He finally glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve deduced you had a series of unpleasant experiences. Likely stress-related. You’re not a volatile person by nature.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those who know you intimately.” He paused, then added, “But I would prefer verbal warnings next time over bibliographic projectiles.”

You smiled faintly. “Duly noted, Doctor.”

He handed you the very book you’d thrown. “Next time you feel rage—throw this at a target dummy. Or at me, if it helps. I can analyze the angle of impact for emotional depth.”

“…You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you remain.” His voice, quiet and warm, carried more apology than your own.

[deadpoetskin]

SHE DOES, MINE

SYNOPSIS: Damian Wayne has never been the kind of man to fall in love halfway. And when he loves, he does it with all the ferocity and devotion of someone who was trained to safeguard what he holds most dear So when the girl he loves shines—he makes sure the world never dims her PAIRINGS: Aged Up! Damian Wayne x Reader TAGS: Alternate Universe, Romance, Fluff

🜼 :: i've seen too much alpha male content on tiktok i had to write this masterpiece to calm myself

🜼 :: i get that this might be ooc for damian—like i said, i'm not very familiar with the canon material yet—but i don't care because this is my fic and i can do what i want with it

🜼 :: i wanted to post this before part three of my tim fic just 'cause that one isn't quite done yet. i'm not yet satisfied with the way i've written it so this is a little something to have while you guys wait for that one.

There’s something in her—

Something radiant.

It’s not loud or dramatic.

Not desperate or flashy.

It’s just… bright.

The way she walks into a room and transforms it, like someone opened the windows and let the sunlight in—suddenly everything feels warmer, clearer, alive.

Damian fell in love with that brightness.

And the moment he did?

He made it his job to protect it.

One Year Ago

He showed up on her window balcony with a dislocated shoulder and a look that said: don’t ask.

So she didn’t.

She just opened the window, said, “You’re bleeding on my basil,” and went to get the first aid kit.

They weren’t dating then. Not really.

He was Damian Wayne. She was the girl who sat beside him in class—lip gloss always perfect, boots too pretty for Gotham grime, with a knack for saying something ridiculous and making it sound profound.

They met in a Philosophy 101 elective.

He thought she was an idiot for quoting Barbie.

She thought he was repressing sixteen years of rage and probably slept with his fists clenched.

Both were right.

But they also partnered on a debate project, complained about their annoying classmates, and kept running into each other at increasingly inconvenient moments.

He’d show up to class with split knuckles and a stitched lip, and she wouldn’t ask. She’d just pass him an ice cold water bottle, slide her hoodie over for him to use as a makeshift ice pack, and keep talking like nothing was unusual.

One time he came in with blood drying beneath his collar. She only raised an eyebrow, moved her takeout box closer to him, and said, “The garlic bread is still warm.”

When he disappeared for five days and returned, knocking on her door—limping, face paler than usual and shoulder stiff—she didn’t ask where he’d been. She just opened her door, pointed him to the couch, made soup, and put on a movie he once mentioned he enjoyed.

He stopped showing up anywhere else after long nights. Only her window.

They weren’t supposed to fall in love. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love

There were too many unsaid things between them—too much shadow in his world, too much light in hers. He carried weight in his shoulders like he was always bracing for war. She wore joy like armor, all sunshine and clever comebacks, like she could survive anything as long as she stayed golden.

But he kept coming back. For her. For the way she patched him up in glittery pajamas and brewed him coffee the way he liked it. For how she met every argument he made—disarming his logic with a well-placed “actually”—and still managed to be gentle about it, like she was offering correction with a ribbon tied around it.

For the way she made being brilliant look fun—and made him feel things he wasn’t supposed to. Things he didn’t have the time or luxury for.

It drove him insane.

He called her infuriating. She called him dramatic.

He kept coming back. And she let him.

Eventually, he told her. About Robin. About the League. About the fact that he wasn’t just bruised from bar fights, but from chasing actual death through rooftops and gutters.

She blinked. Took a breath. Then asked, “So that’s why you’re so bad at texting back?”

He stared.

She handed him his coffee. “Cool. That explains a lot.”

Now

Damian Wayne doesn’t do anything halfway.

Not in battle. Not in love.

So when it came to her—there was never going to be anything halfway about it.

He calculated the risk, weighed the consequences, and still handed her the keys.

He didn’t accidentally fall in love.

He didn’t casually let her into the Bat-side of his life.

And he’s sure as hell not going to keep living under the same roof as his gossiping, nosy, emotionally invasive brothers when he could be waking up next to her in a place of their own.

So yes.

The only logical next step?

Move out. Take her with him.

“Damian. Baby. Love of my life. Please do not fold my dress like it’s a tactical vest.”

She didn’t even look up from her side of the room, where she was carefully organizing makeup into a padded case like it was crown jewels. Damian, meanwhile, was frowning over her favorite silk dress, currently flattened into a rectangle.

“It wrinkles when you pack it like that,” she said, tone calm but pointed—clearly watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s more space-efficient,” he said flatly, still folding.

“It’s Dior.”

“That doesn’t make it less wrinkle-prone.”

She sighed, standing up and crossing the room to peel the dress from his hands. “This is why you’re not allowed near my closet unsupervised.”

“I rescued a civilian diplomat in less time than it’s taking you to pack makeup,” he muttered, watching as she delicately re-folded the fabric with a practiced roll.

“And yet here you are,” she said softly, “ still showing up for me anyway.”

He flies her to the new place—not because it’s far, but because he likes the way her eyes light up when he does things like that. Private jet. Window seat. Her favorite drink already waiting.

The residence is technically still in Gotham.

Discreet. Reinforced. High above the noise.

A penthouse—three levels of clean lines and curated light. 

The kitchen looks like it was designed for a cooking show.

There’s library already holds all her annotated books, shelved just the way she likes them.

Their bedroom has blackout curtains, soft sheets, and her favorite throw blanket folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

She’s silent for a long moment. Then:

“You decorated.”

“Tt. I’m not a savage.”

The adjustment, the rhythm, the quiet luxury of building something together.

It doesn’t happen all at once. But the space eventually starts to feel like them—like a home.

Damian, ever precise, takes to domesticity the way he does combat: intensely, instinctively, and with startling dedication. 

He remembers—too clearly—those nights she wordlessly cleaned the blood from his knuckles, nudged a warm bowl of fresh soup toward him, handed him a fresh shirt and didn’t ask questions.

Back then, he hadn’t known how to say thank you. So now, he shows it in the only way he knows how: by making her life gentler wherever he can. By handling the sharp corners before she gets near them. By protecting her from the quiet exhaustion she never complains about.

It starts small.

She’s humming—soft, distracted—while folding towels on a quiet Sunday afternoon.

Damian walks in.

Pauses. Frowns slightly.

“Beloved.”

“Hmm?”

“You shouldn’t be doing that.”

“It’s laundry. I’m not battling Deathstroke.”

“Still.”

Two days later, every piece of clothing she owned—including ones she didn’t remember buying—was folded, hung, and steam-pressed in perfectly color-coded rows.

No explanation.

Just a silent housekeeper named Marta, who appears twice a week like clockwork.

“Why?” she asks later, a little amused.

“Because you were humming,” he says simply. “And your voice is better when you’re not tired.”

She doesn’t cook. Unless you count heating water for tea.

Every morning, she wakes up to a pre-set breakfast bar tailored to her weekly cravings.

Avocados? Already sliced.

Eggs, soft-boiled for exactly six minutes? Naturally.

Chocolate-dipped strawberries on Tuesdays? Of course.

She once jokingly asked for pancakes shaped like bats.

The plate was waiting the next morning—complete with tiny edible batarangs. 

“You know I can cook, right?”  she once mumbled, more puzzled than insistent. 

Damian, without looking up from his tablet, “You could also write a thesis in glitter gel pen. Doesn’t mean you should.” 

She doesn’t grocery shop. She’s never had to. 

The fridge is always stocked. The pantry never dips below half. The fruit is always fresh, the snacks never stale, and somehow, everything she loves appears just before she realizes she’s craving it.

The exact brand of instant ramen she lives on during final?

Local lemonade she swears tastes better than store-bought?

Her favorite brand of oat milk that always sells out?

It’s just there. Always. As if the universe anticipated it

—or Damian Wayne.

He’d hired a private grocer before they even moved in. Arranged deliveries on a rotating schedule. Commissioned a smart inventory system that flagged replacements before she noticed anything missing. 

There’s no grocery list taped to the fridge, no scribbled reminders on the counter, no panicked “we’re out of milk” moment. It just… never happens.

“Did you go to the store?” she asked once, squinting at the restocked shelf of her favorite jam.

“No,” Damian said. “The store comes to us.”

She doesn’t clean.

Not because she’s lazy.

Because Damian has built a life where she simply doesn’t have to.

The housekeeper arrives exactly when they’re out.

The vacuum runs on a silent schedule while they sleep.

There’s a scent diffuser system that releases calming scents like warm vanilla and fresh linen. 

The kinds of scents that say: You’re home.

She tried to vacuum once.

He unplugged the cord without a word, handed her a cup of tea, and delegated the task to Marta.

“This feels excessive,” she said once, laughing.

“No,” Damian answered. “It’s called priorities.”

“Priorities?”

“Yes. You have better things to do than chase dust bunnies.”

She huffed a laugh. “Like what?”

“Being brilliant. Annoying me. Tending to your garden of plants you call your children.”

“Your attention is a resource I refuse to waste on dust.” he said simply.

The only time she ever picked up a broom was to threaten Jason with it.

She asked him once.

“Is this a power thing?” she’d asked, curled in his lap on their couch.

“Are you trying to take care of me because you think I can’t?”

He had looked at her then, calm and deadly sincere.

“No. I’m taking care of you because you shouldn’t have to waste your time doing menial things. Because your time is valuable. Because your mind is extraordinary. Because I can.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just rested her head against his shoulder, eyes soft.

“You know I’d do the same for you, right?”

“I know,” he murmured, brushing his fingers through her hair. “That’s why I won’t let you beat me to it.”

“You protect the city,” she tells him once. “And I don’t even do the dishes.”

He looks at her like she’s lost her mind.

“You protect me.”

He said it like a fact.

And she didn’t laugh. Didn’t roll her eyes or argue like she usually might.

It was ridiculous. Over the top. The kind of thing people say in movies, in poems, in love songs whispered between verses.

But the thing about Damian Wayne was—

To him, her happiness wasn’t a luxury. It was a metric. A criteria for what was worth her time, her effort, her energy.

If it drained her, it was cut. If it bored her, it was handled. If it made her pause too long before smiling, it was gone by morning.

“But Damian—”

“If it doesn’t make you happy,” he said, quietly, forehead pressed to hers, “it doesn’t belong in your day.”

One of the things she does do—without fail—is wait up.

Damian came back with blood on his sleeve and exhaustion in his bones. The patrol had gone longer than expected, and the gash across his arm told her more than any debrief ever could.

She met him at the balcony window, arms crossed, your expression sharp with worry poorly disguised as irritation.

“We are having words,” she said firmly.

“I neutralized a threat—” he started, voice hoarse.

“No,” she interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing his uninjured wrist. “We are having nourishment, then words. In that order.”

He grunted something unintelligible, but didn’t pull away. Let her guide him out of his boots. Let her steer him to the kitchen. Let her fuss over him even as he rolled his eyes and muttered that he was fine.

Damian Wayne might be a soldier, might be lethal, might have faced down warlords and monsters—

But in her hands, he was just a man who needed soup, stitches, and someone to tell him not to bleed on the countertop.

And she always did. Every time.

“You disobeyed a direct girlfriend command,” she said, dabbing antiseptic on his scrapes and bruises. “I should revoke your forehead kisses.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” he grunted.

She simply leaned in, kissed his brow—gentle, lingering, a silent promise—and whispered, “Next time you come home bleeding, I will.”

It makes her happy, he knows.

To help.

To protect him the way he protects her.

To be part of this secret thing that is his, and now, theirs.

And because he has her…

He trains harder. Fights harder. Smarter. Cleaner.

He fights with her voice echoing in his ear, and with the knowledge that if he slips—if he falters—it will scare her.

“You did good tonight,” she says after every patrol. “Come home safe. That’s all I want.”

So he does.

Because she keeps him steady.

Keeps him from going too far, from losing himself in the mission.

From the silence that used to follow him home.

It was the first time she’d ever hosted anything in their penthouse.

She’d sent the invite on impulse, halfway through raiding the pantry for snacks. Damian hadn’t said anything when he saw the group chat name pop up. He only raised a brow and muttered something about “surviving one evening of meddling.”

The Gotham Partners Support Group™ hangout? snacks, drinks, and possibly unsolicited love advice

KORI: absolutely, i will bring flowers!! KON: on my way as long as no one makes me play charades DICK: lies, you love it

She laughed out loud reading it, already half-buzzing with excitement.

Kori’s heels click against the polished marble, echoing softly through the open space.

Kon lets out a low whistle when he sees the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Dick stops in front of the kitchen island, eyebrows raised. “Is that real marble?”

Tim pretends not to be impressed, but his fingers haven’t stopped tracing the edge of the built-in espresso bar for five solid minutes.

There’s music—soft. Lighting—warm, romantic. Scents—floral and calming.

And in the middle of it all is her, radiant in pink silk shorts and a cardigan she didn’t button up all the way, offering fresh lemonade in glasses that chill themselves.

Kon accepts his with both hands, eyes wide as he takes in the curated calm of the space.

“This is what you live like?” he asks her, somewhere between awe and disbelief.

Tim doesn’t look up from where he’s adding a lemon slice to his own glass. “This is what Damian insisted she live like.”

Kon whistles low. “Damn. I get it now.”

Kon finds the in-house massage chair. Within seconds, he’s flat on his back, eyes closed, muttering something about never leaving.

Dick discovers the balcony garden—rows of herbs, sun-warmed terracotta, and a vine-draped bench with a throw pillow. He whistles low, brushing his fingers over the rosemary. “Didn’t know Damian had a green thumb.”

“He doesn’t,” she calls from the kitchen. “I do. He just bought the balcony.”

Kori, meanwhile, opens the walk-in pantry—and promptly gasps. “You have an entire section just for different kinds of honey??”

“I like options.”, she beams.

Jason hasn’t even shown up yet, and already the place is buzzing.

Kon’s half-asleep in the massage chair, murmuring threats to anyone who tries to make him move. Dick is crouched in the garden corner, dramatically sniffing potted herbs and assigning them names with far too much confidence. Kori’s opened three jars of honey for “taste-testing purposes” and is now trying to convince Damian to try the lavender one on toast.

Tim is loitering by the drinks counter, drink in one hand, the other typing furiously on his phone, pretending not to laugh at the chaos around him.

And through it all, she’s just laughing—at ease, perfectly unbothered—as Damian leans against the kitchen island behind her, watching it all unfold with a look that says: this is his personal hell and also he’s never been happier.

They gather around the low table in the lounge—pillows everywhere, soft throws tossed over laps, bowls of popcorn and fancy chips within reach, half-finished drinks sweating on coasters. Laughter echoes off the high ceilings, warm and unhurried.

Kori nudges her with a grin, eyes sparkling.

“So you really don’t cook?”

“Nope.”

“Or clean?”

“Not once.”

“And Damian doesn’t mind?”

Before she can answer, Damian—seated beside her, legs crossed, perfectly composed, fingers idly brushing her knee—scoffs.

“Mind? I’d be offended if she tried.”

Jason, fork in hand, lazily gestures toward her as he leans back into the cushions.

 “So what do you even do in the penthouse all day if you’re not cooking, cleaning, shopping, or doing laundry?”

The question wasn’t malicious. Just curious. Playful, even.

Damian answers before she can—calm, certain, unapologetic.

“She studies, she writes, she drives me insane by reciting musicals.”

Tim snorted into his drink. “You’re spoiling her.”

“She deserves it,” Damian said simply.

Jason raised a brow. “What’s she ever gonna do if you’re not around to handle everything?”

“Thrive,” Damian repeated—cold, final. His gaze didn’t waver. “Because I’m building her a life where she can.”

Damian leans back, calm and unaffected. “I don’t understand why her not doing chores surprises you. My mother never lifted a hand to sweep a floor in her life. And no one dared question her capability.”

Dick raised a brow. “Your mother also runs an empire of assassins.”

Damian doesn’t miss a beat. “Exactly. And she never wasted time on tasks that diluted her strength.”

Because Damian Wayne may live under Bruce’s roof, fight under the Bat’s symbol, and protect Gotham’s streets—

But the foundation of his worldview?

That was all Talia al Ghul.

“I grew up watching people serve my mother. Not because she demanded it, but because her time was valuable. You don’t train the world’s most dangerous woman to hand-wash her robes. You let her focus on what makes her extraordinary.”

His gaze flicked to her, sitting beside him—pink silk and soft joy wrapped in confidence.

“So I made sure my beloved—who is, in her own right, extraordinary—lives the same way.”

Kori nodded slowly. Kon glanced her way, thoughtful.

Damian spoke without hesitation. “Why would I ask the person I love to waste time on things I can pay others to handle—when she could spend that time with me, pursuing her passions, or simply existing in peace?”

Dick leaned back, arms crossed, mulling it over. “So it’s not spoiling her.”

“It’s honoring her,” Damian corrected, voice calm but absolute.

Jason scoffed, grinning. “And here I thought you were just whipped.”

Damian raised a brow. “Oh, I am. Fully. Willingly.” A pause. “You should try it.”

Everyone stared at him for a moment. Then:

Kon let out a low whistle. “Honestly? I get it. She glows in this place. Like she owns the world.”

“She does,” Damian replied, calm and certain. “Mine.”

And somehow, that was the final punctuation.

ARCHIVE

divider: @enchanthings

[liliesyearn]

“Just a piercing”

Snotlout x Reader

Summary: Keeping the tradition of your home island was absolutely all your responsibility, yours and your best friend, Indigo.

Berk was still trying to figure out how piercings were helping them, they couldn't capture the essence of beautiful metal permanent moles all over your face, and other parts of their body if they were brave enough.

That's why you were confused when Snotlout asked you for urgently pierce him tomorrow.

Tags: fluff, comfort, silly snotlout, kinda modern... I needed a kitchen

A/N: hiii this is my first time EVER writing something like this, i really mean it; also this has a LOT of lore drop, I just wanted to set a consistent history to make this a series okayy sorry if is kinda long... english isn't my first language tho so it can be a little messed up but I hope y'all understand the vibe!!! it's all for the vibe!!! pluss this is actually one scene of my oc but i preferred posting it like this tehee

“What are you doing here?” Your best friend and roomie curious asked "This isn't too early for you?"

"Snotlout wants a piercing"

Indigo stopped.

"A... Piercing?"

You cannot tell if she was making fun or if she was really asking "What's wrong?" You asked with a fake confusion, even if you knew where she was going.

"There's no way Snotlout gets a piercing" she laughed.

"I know he won't" You said "But he was desperate so I told him to come"

"Yes" She said "Just that and has nothing to do with the little crush you have with him"

Well maybe Indigo was kinda right...

When you came to Berk after the accident of your homeisland, you never felt that needing of being a real viking or whatever they called it.

Having to make your own life with your almost sister was hard but at least both of you had the Hiccup's help, the only guy in Berk that was your friend.

Not all the guys were mean with Indigo and you, but you never had that bond they could, and not going to the academy didn't help as well.

Just some random conversations with some of them when you went to the village were all your relation with the other guys.

Even so, you thought Snotlout was cute, the island constantly talked about how annoying was but something in yourself thought that he cannot be that bad.

Besides you will be a hypocrite knowing that Astrid didn't like you as well even if she didn't know you.

You understood her though, Indigo and you were some of a jobless who did absolutely nothing and she does everything.

You both didn't see each other but when you do, you don't expect her to be nice to us, you even can swear that she and Indigo had some kind of tension but maybe that was you being delusional.

And about being delusional, that was exactly what you were doing while Indigo was waiting for you to answer her.

"Shut up" You said trying to hide that you maybe were a little bit annoyed by her jokes "You are going to sell your crafts and stuff today?"

"Yeah, someone has to bring food to this house" she joked "Whatever you say" You stand up "I'm going with you"

"You don't have to wait for someone, you do?" She lifted one of her eyebrows.

"He's supposed to come later" You said.

"Let's go then"

Both of you went to the heart of the village.

You constantly get lost in your thoughts thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

"Look who is there" Indigo interrupted your thoughts about nothing while she was again, making fun of you.

You smiled looking at Snotlout near, you weren't annoyed with having to stay together today, you were actually curious about him. It seemed like he realized that you both were directly staring at him so he walked to you.

"You are not supposed to be in my house? like... right now?" You moved your head a bit while you were smiled.

Annoying people was something you really enjoyed, even more if the people get successfully annoyed.

Sadly, the reaction that everyone would expect from Snotlout was not the one you get.

"I'm sorry, princess" He said fastly as if you were actually mad "I was trying to get something for you, you had breakfast?"

You weren't the one amused there, Indigo was even kinda scared and she had to do something about it.

"I heard well?"

Immediately she said that, the one who was scared was Snotlout, who fixed his posture and cleared his throat.

"Since when are you here?" He frowned.

"Since forever, dumbass" Indigo rolled her eyes.

"You don't have stuff to sell or something?"

"Since when have you guys been like this?" You interrupted their little fight.

"Sorry" Indigo said first "Just seeing him makes me mad"

"Hey, I'm still here, dork" Snotlout said notably annoyed.

"I know and I'm done, I prefer not being here than still listening your voice" She smiled victorious at seeing the mad expression in Snotlout's face, she grabbed her basket and looked at you "I hope you finish soon, I don't want to get home and see this stupid guy in" she said smiling looking at the annoyed Snotlout's face again.

"Yeah, I hope so" You softly laughed "Good luck with your stuff"

"I think I'm going with Hiccup later so you can go there" She said while she was leaving you both alone.

"I really can't understand how you can stand her" Snotlout said while he was looking in the direction she walked.

"I'm sure she thinks exactly the same about you" you joked "I didn't get my breakfast"

Snotlout shook his head, like he just got a thought or something "Wait here" he said and left running.

He didn't take long to come back with a slice of pie.

"Do you like blueberries?" He asked with those big eyes.

"I like them" you smiled "You want to go to my place now?" You stopped when you saw his face so you quickly finished your phrase "You know, for the piercing and so"

"Yeah" he looked at the floor "I- I think we should go too"

You saw Snotlout was surprised when he saw your home "You actually live here?" He said.

"Yeah, actually" you made fun of him "Is ugly, right?"

"It's cute I mean, cool it looks cool" he corrected himself "I've never been here"

"Maybe it's because I've never invited you but I don't know" you smiled giving him a little punch over his shoulder "Please come in"

Both entered your home, Snotlout was scanning everything he can. ”You really live alone here?" He asked while he was still watching inside.

"Yup" you said walking to your small kitchen.

"That sounds awesome" he answered "Sometimes I wish I could live alone too" he said and then stopped, like he said something that shouldn't be said" "What are you doing?" He switched the topic.

"I'm cleaning your piercing" your voice was slowly getting sweeter, you didn't know you could do that.

"Oh, true..." Snotlout had a reality check. He walked near you, wanting to watch what you were doing "That really hurts?"

He was being unnecessarily cute.

"Are you scared?" You smiled teasing him.

"Of course I don't" He quickly said raising his tone "Sorry, but I mean it really hurts?"

It wasn't hard to tell that he was scared.

You turned off the stove and served the water in two cups that you were holding now, you turned and walked to the table and did a sign for Snotlout to join you.

"I hope you like tea" You approached him one cup while you finally got to eat that pie.

"Thanks" Snotlout took the cup and sipped the tea you gave him. "Why do you want to get pierced?" You asked.

"What do you mean?" His relaxed posture tensed again.

"I know we aren't that close but you don't see the type of guy that..." "...that" Snotlout said waiting for your response. "That suddenly walks in with a brand new piercing" you quickly said "I don't know what you are trying but whatever it is I'm the only one who's going to hear, you know?"

He thought about it for a second and after a sigh, he said "It's for Astrid"

"Astrid?"

You've been waiting for everything for him to say but that?

"Why is Astrid related to this?"

"Well something like that..."

"I need you to justify your answer, Snotlout"

"Okay maybe we had an argument"

"You had an argument with, Astrid?"

His answers were getting worse.

"No but we are okay, I think so..."

"I still can't understand what this has to do with me and the piercings"

"Okay let me explain" he cleared his throat "We were training and someone started to say how ugly piercings are" he shook his head "I said they were cool and then Astrid said they are painfully awful, I told her she was wrong she was still saying that so I told her I'm going to get one to show her how cool they seem, really thought I was playing but look, I'm here"

"You really argued with Astrid for all that?" You were still shocked.

You thought you were impulsive but maybe you find a good opponent.

"Yeah, whatever" he drank some of his tea "So it hurts?"

"You literally could said anything and you choosed to get a piercing?"

"Yeah, that happened" he was distracted.

"Why?"

"I wanted to defend you" he drank again his tea.

"And how do you know she was talking about my piercings and not Indigo's one?"

Snotlout choked and after recovering he said "Don't say that again ever please, I'm having enough with having a hole in my face for ever" he stopped looking at you "No offense tho"

" "Whatever" you rolled your eyes "You are dumb"

"Yeah... I don't know why I said that to be honest" he scratched his head "Maybe it's because I'm a gentleman and stuff"

You couldn't help bursting in a laugh "For sure is that" you finished eating your pie and said "Thanks for defending me"

"it's okay" he smiled victorious "I know we don't talk that much but..."

"If you say something again about how gentleman you are I'm gonna cry, I mean it" you interrupted him.

"I get annoyed when they talk about you guys, I think it's just that" he started to get nervous and stopped looking at you "I mean, even if we are not that close and even if I can't stand Indigo..." He paused to frown at that thought "I think you are nice, both of you, whatever"

"That's cute" you said "Maybe I get wrong and you really are a gentleman" you wink at him and took the cups going to the kitchen.

"You really think so?" He looked at you, you can even swear his eyes were shining and you didn't have the heart to say you were joking a little bit.

"Of course I do, I never lie" you walked to the stairs where your bed was while Snotlout was following you.

"Well, I'm sure you have said to indigo she's a good person at least once" he laughed.

"You are soo funny, Snotlout" you rolled your eyes. "Yes I am" he smiled

"Is not dangerous like... Getting pierced in your bed?"

"Snotlout you are definitely not getting pierced"

"What?" He looked more scared than disappointed.

You sit in the bed and tapped next so he can sit with you.

Then you looked at him, taking his helmet of and playing with it said "You know we are alone, right?" You took a pause "No one is here, nobody else can listen or see us right now"

"...Yes" he said all confused without knowing what were you trying to say.

"You are freaking scared, Snotlout, you don't want to do this and me either"

"Oh, come on" he whimpered "I promised to show it tomorrow" he pouted.

"It's just a piercing"

"But Astrid is going to keep saying things about you"

"I don't care about whatever she says"

"But I do" he stated "She's my friend but she's getting annoying, I think I'm starting to stand better Indigo than her" he joked "But being real, I would rather she being mean to me than she being with you"

"I doubt she is your friend and you didn't have a crush on her or something? Like I appreciate this so much but you really don't have to do all this for me"

"You doubt she's my friend?"

"Anyways, I knew you were mulish..." You stand up and look for something "So I made something for you"

"For me?"

You came back to your bed and showed him what you had in your hands.

"It's a fake piercing, Hiccup helped me with it yesterday" you gave it to him "it's cool, right?"

"Wow" he turned his tone "That's awesome"

"I know right? I really don't know how I made all that in one day, Hiccup really helped me so much"

"You did all this just for me?" He was still shocked, admiring the little piece in his hands"

"Yes, this is the first time I've done something like this"

"You are amazing"

"It's n-nothing" you suddenly get nervous, you didn't expect him to react like this.

"Even if you didn't knew what this was for you did it for me" He was still amused.

You nodded "Yeah... I thought it was rare all this situation so I made a plan b in the case you get scared with the needle, so"

"Needle?" Hid voice was shaking.

"Well, yes dumbass, how do you think piercings are done?"

"Piercing stuff? I don't know, whatever" he rolled his eyes.

"Silly" you said.

"How do you feel living alone" he suddenly switched the topic.

"I think I finally got used to it" You lay down "I know It can sound kinda rude but I think I finally get over all my parents thing"

"Oh"

You always forget that topic was a little bit awkward so you switched the topic.

"And how are you?"

Snotlout also laid down with you and looked at the ceiling.

"Good, of course I'm good" he quickly said.

"I mean about your parents, fool"

"Well... I think" he took a pause "I actually don't know" he was still thinking"I don't usually think about it"

Maybe Snotlout was lying, maybe he thinks about it all his nights and some parts of the day but he wasn't going to admit it, at least not now.

"Don't think about it then" you said "Parents are fucked up, right?"

"Yeah... Sort of" he smiled "it's been a while since I had something like this" he confessed.

"Something like what?" You looked at him.

"I don't know, don't pressure me"

You laughed at his reaction "You are not that bad as they say, you know"

Snotlout looked you back "Do you think so?"

You smiled "Yeah, I think we should go out more" you suddenly get nervous so you had to add something "I m-mean to talk and stuff... You know"

Snotlout was getting nervous as well "Y-yeah we should" he took a pause "I think it's cute... I mean great, whatever"

Magically you both were closer, the atmosphere was completely different as the one you maybe had one day or maybe a week before.

"Yeah I think the same" you said "You think it would be unprofessional if I get sleep with my not-client? I think I can fall asleep right now"

Snotlout sighed with relief "Oh Thor, I thought I was the only one" he smiled "I think was the tea"

"Sure" you said while both of closed your eyes.

Getting comfortable, maybe friendly cuddling...

[blackwall-my-tiny-husband]

Thursday bangers 7/10

Rules: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

Thanks @woundedsoul12 for making this fun prompt game and @brennacedria for hosting this week! (I’m uh sorry this is kind of more horror than fluff) (1.7K words)

And thank you @aetherflowers @grand-crow @woundedsoul12 @sandcastlekings @chaosherald for the tags!!! ❤️

Baby, you're all that I want // When you're lyin' here in my arms // I'm findin' it hard to believe // We're in heaven - Heaven by Bryan Adams

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The bed was warm and the sound of rain was making Zalan want to stay curled in his content tangle of limbs, the pull of sleeping in lulling him to laziness. This cozy warm feeling was all he could ever want; the two of them, and their little white kitten, breathing almost in tune with each other and the love of his life at his side. The woman beside him stirred and was attempting to get up but the crow grumbled something and pulled her back to him, there was a quiet laugh as she patted his arm,

“Come on Zalan, some of us have to get up and ready for the day.” He was forced to release her and sat up,

“I’m up, I’m up, I’ll go put on the coffee.” He reached over to kiss her bare shoulder as she sat on the edge of the bed stretching and reaching for her pants, Zalan appreciated the stretch of muscle and tracing a line down her back with his fingers, “Unless you want to come back to bed, I could give you several very good reasons to be late.”

“Rana should be stopping by soon, she has something for us.” Neve told him, pointedly, pressing a kiss to his lips before standing and pulling her hair up into her usual perfect bun and Zalan had the urge to offer to braid it for her, which was silly he never braided Neve’s hair.

But he brushed it off, gave Da’len’s head a scratch, and went to start the coffee before Neve could beat him to it and make sentient sludge.

//

Handing mugs to Rana and Neve, the crow perched on the edge of the detective’s desk, standing comfortably next to the mage, letting himself lean against her and smiling softly when she leaned back.

“-It was a group of shop owners that spotted them. They’re worried the templars won’t be getting to their section of town for some time with the cleanup….”

“The job never stops,” Neve said the words like a complaint but there was a soft smile playing on her lips, content in knowing they’d help the people, “It’s a group of Venatori right? Mages, fighters? It’s good to know what we’ll be up against.” Zalan almost grinned, watching her switch gears; getting information, all business once again.

“Just if we have time, but it would be good for the city. They look up to you after all.” Rana teased but then continued, matching Neve’s on the job attitude, “It sounds like stragglers, nothing we should be too concerned about and nobody too powerful. Just some low level grunts.”

She also had a lead on their latest case for Minrathous Monsters and Murders, a freed slave was looking for their family and Rana had managed to track them to the coast. But that was for after, first it looked like Zalan was getting to stretch his assassin skills to help out Dock Town.

“Come on Neve Gallus, let’s go protect our city.”

//

Ducking as a bolt of magic shot close to his head Zalan charged again, deflecting a blow and leaping at one of the mages, only to be kicked back by a magical attack from his left. Hitting the ground with a thud one of the venatori with swords swung at him and he braced but expected help, which came in the form of ice coating over the cultist freezing him in place. Neve’s ice magic shouldn’t have been a shock but he’d been expecting an arrow to come flying by and he furrowed his brows unsure why. A strange sense of something being wrong but unable to identify it flooded him. But he didn’t have time to ponder, the fight was continuing on around him.

//

The detective had him close, hands on his neck, healing magic soaking into his skin like cold water, and he tapped his forehead to hers with a smile, the phantom taste of elfroot spreading over his tongue but he ignored it, Neve always healed him with her magic when he needed it. And he had needed this this time. He’d been thrown back violently near the end of the fight; slamming his head into a pillar, cracking it. But Neve had been there.

“Thanks for being my rock.” He teased with an easy quiet chuckle before frowning, he wouldn’t call her that, he teased her by calling her his hero why would he call her his rock?

“Well aren’t you some sunshine?” She laughed lightly, ignoring his misstep in words. Strange. He leaned back, away from her, the unsettling feeling washing through him again.

“Neve this isn’t right, something is- well it’s wrong. I’m not supposed to be here- I need to go home.“ He tried to untangle himself from her, tried to step back.

“Rook what are you talking about? You chose Minrathous, you chose me remember?” Her hands reached for him, clutching his arms, halting his backing away.

“What do you mean I chose Minrathos? What-“ the dragon. “Neve what happened to Treviso?”

“The dragon attacked it, blighted it. We’ve been helping but you said you couldn’t stay there after everything that happened, after loosing so many.” The hands he’d been trying to get away from were now his only lifeline in the storm of his whole life crumbling. He gripped her arms back trying to hold himself up. Blighted. Lost. Fear pricked at his fingertips. He wanted to ask, needed to know, but couldn’t bring himself to.

“I don’t remember…” But now he almost could, deciding the crows could handle it, what could one more do that the others couldn’t. Helping Neve and Viago being beside himself with anger. He also remembered going with Lucanis, he had to choose his home city- it was his duty. But that version was getting fainter again like a dream slipping through his fingers after waking.

Neve had her fingers on his face, jerking him out of his thoughts, touching where he’d smacked the wall,

“How hard did you hit your head?” The words were light but her expression was worried, open and worried- and wrong. The Neve he knew wasn’t this open. She cared, it was always there, but she hid it from everyone. It had taken him so long to earn her trust and she still tried to put up walls even with her friends. But no; memories of her being so afraid, curling in on herself before tearstone, telling him not to say anything. He remembered catching her arm as she tried to walk past, trying to ask her to stay.

“Neve we aren’t like this, we aren’t…. together.” He tried again, shaking his head in her hands trying to keep the memories straight. That wasn’t how it went… he told…. They would do it together. That he would get her sun back. He’d promised….

He’d promised… who?

He saw Neve flinch back at his words her open features closing immediately, shutting down the hurt trying to bloom over her face.

And he felt instant regret and sorrow for hurting her, an apology on the tip of his tongue, the desire to reach back out and pull her in like he’d done so many times before to hold her close and kiss away the hurt. But those had to be fake memories he didn’t kiss Neve. He kissed…. He couldn’t remember!

He couldn’t remember and the pain on Neve’s face was breaking his heart and so he did reach out, pulling her into a hug, pressing his face into her hair even as she refused to reciprocate, body tense in his arms.

“I’m sorry Neve.” It was almost a whisper, “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t want to upset you.” He took a breath, taking one last moment to let himself breathe in her scent and somehow think it was how it was supposed to be, that this was where he was supposed to be. She fit in his arms perfectly, but he couldn’t pretend forever. He would sound crazy but….

“But I’m not supposed to be here, like this. I can remember choosing Treviso. I know I went and helped because I beat myself up for choosing my city for weeks after. Thinking I should have helped you and the Shadow Dragons. There has to be some kind of magic at play here.”

The detective held on to him for another moment before pulling back to search his eyes, probably looking for signs of tampering- of blood magic or mind control. That’s what any detective worth their salt would do and Zalan knew Neve was the best.

“Trouble… tell me this isn’t one more thing going sideways, tell me this isn’t you slipping away.” She looked doubtful and hurt but he could see the wheels turning in her brain, always thinking every possibility through.

“Neve, why do we have a cat with an elvish name?” He would try this one last thing. He’d given the cat a head pat, he’d watched it twirl around Rana’s legs. But he didn’t have any pets and the memory, even the new ones, were fuzzy on that detail. She was quiet for a moment,

“It doesn’t feel like the fade or any sort of demon.” He could feel the chill of her magic over them- spreading past and out from them. She was searching for answers even if she didn’t believe him, that was a good first step.

“We need help Neve, please. Let’s ask someone, Morrigan might know more about why I have two sets of memories.” The witch of the wilds was the only one he could think of that might know of whatever strange magic this was, or know who to point them towards. Neve still looked skeptical and he gently took her hand.

“Just do this for me Neve. If I’m wrong I’ll never bring it up again, it’ll all have been some bad dream the fade concocted. I’ll rub your leg every night and I’ll do paperwork for the detective agency for as many months without complaint as you want. But I need to know.”

“And if you’re right?”

“Then we fix it. Because this is someone’s life, you have someone who you call trouble and who wakes up next to you every morning.” He just hoped Morrigan have answers, whatever they may mean.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Man I wonder how Turvi is doing surely he’s totally fine and nothing strange is happening to him right? Find out HERE

Gentle tagging in case you haven’t done it or want to read whatever strange thing I’ve written: @hedwigoprah @notyourmamasdeerbat @serensama @seaglassmelody @pixiedurango @davrinsleftpectoral

[the-pest1lence]

Jon has the Mint seal of approval

They’re gonna listen to 5 episodes per day so yay. (They have a self restraint I never could)

[remcadll]

Gen obsessed with how.. *dead* your Jason's color pallete is. Like, that's corpse pale right there. Not a spec of blood left flowing in there (also father Todd's skin being full of color in comparison is a nice touch)

THANK YOU I love making him look a bit ghoulish. Guy who's not supposed to be alive but yes he is. no he isn't <3

[likesdoodling]

Look guys! It's Menolly! (and Beauty) :D:D:D Been re-reading some Anne McCaffrey books. Dragonsong was the first Pern related book I read (wasn't allowed to read the 'grownup' ones till I was 15), and since my other favourite book at the was 'My side of the mountain' (running away from home and living in the forest kinda thing), Dragonsong had me hooked. But it's been a while so coming back to it after a few years was pretty cool.

[zvahlne]

headcanon: shadow knights can't cry.

it takes him a long while to notice. he had never considered himself much of a crier. it wasn't that he thought there was anything wrong with crying. he was just one to keep moving, keep doing, show the people around him and under his care that it would be alright, no matter what had happened. some might accuse him of bottling for this, though whether it was selfless for others (so they wouldn't worry; so they could cry while he carried it) or selfish (so he wouldn't have to think about it, wouldn't have to feel it), up for debate. either way, he would disagree, and had whenever someone close enough to him to notice the pattern mentioned it (usually cadenza).

...the last time he remembers crying was with cadenza. it was about joh.

he didn't cry in the nether (no water can last long there; how could he? your eyes could never get wet enough. every blink in the nether is stinging).

he didn't cry when he was brought back, not for his sight, not for ungrth (more surprising, but he was in shock. nothing felt real in those days, and after, he had things to do, people to care for).

it's when he loses 15 years and he comes back to his father's death and can't shed a single tear that he finally thinks he really ought to be crying. but he isn't. he can't?

he goes to ungrth's grave and he thinks of ungrth and he thinks of hayden and he thinks of joh and he thinks of garroth and he grits his teeth, he digs his nails into his palms, he gets a headache from how tight his brows furrow, he feels an ache so intense in his chest he's gasping for breath, but his eyes are as dry as they've since the day he died (he wants to cry, he should be crying, why isn't he crying?).

his life is taken from him, replaced with facsimile. the man he trusted more than himself betrayed him, and is now lost a dimension away. he's lost fifteen years, his father passed without him present, his friend's grave has been desecrated, the places he lived in and loved and protected fallen and rebuilt, all in his absence, all to be discovered all at once. he loses nearly everything, he watches helplessly as he loses even himself. and yet...

laurance can't cry.

[somegrumpynerd]

Remaining kitties for the garden

Here are all the kitties who didn't make it to the website and their pet screens c:

^The regular kitties (The nothing option would make Error show up and just kinda glare at everybody lol and there would be mirror and paper bag options to see Dust and Horror again)

^The winter kitties (The snow option would bring out Blue and Dream, the christmas lights brought Fresh and the stocking was Ink)

^The special pairs (I don't think any of these made it to the polls lol but putting out a bed would bring Horror and Dust together, putting out a rainbow cushion would bring Color and Killer (this was how you would finally be able to pet him) and putting down comic books would bring Epic and Cross, who would finally purr when pet with his bestie)

[king-lena]

i just wrote a whole post on how david and roger’s perception of each other ultimately led to their downfall and it started off as like a paragraph of surface level observations and somehow morphed into an essay length analysis that i can’t possibly justify posting 😭 i did kind of cook tho ngl i’m proud of her