#[PRAYER HANDS FOR HER LMAOOO]

[grislyintentions]

Her attempts to evade the Aeon's notice would sadly prove to be in vain. For the Thousand-Handed Merciful Medicus has eyes and ears everywhere.

Magpie feathers gently drift to the ground when they lowered their head to gaze upon her patiently.

@polyodynos

Oh. Oh this is bad. Um, maybe if she stands still, THEY won't notice her? It won't hurt to try.

[rottenherbs]

Trouble In the Library // D.M x reader

word count: 1.3k

Summary: You liked helping your friends with their class work, but Draco saw it differently. (Fluff / slight angst / crying)

Authors note: I wrote this at work lmaooo so apologies if it’s not fleshed out. Working in grocery the week of Thanksgiving is disgusting. Send me ur prayers.

[masterlist]

// REQUESTS OPEN //

Much love, Saige

————————

You hated being called ditzy. You weren’t ditzy, you actually were acutely aware of your surroundings at all times. You swore people despise you for your optimism and positive outlook despite being placed in Slytherin. You hated automatically seeing the dark side of things and the generic snobbiness your housemates had. You understood what you were in control of and you used that to your advantage. Draco secretly loved you for it. He felt consistently tested, surrounded by negativity and horrors no matter where he went. He was constantly battling his own mental health and the general wizard in public at any time. His image was on the line.

Sometimes it felt like yours too now that you hung out together. You didn’t exactly fit into the popular group but you were invited to sit and mingle every once in a while. Draco was cautious about his advancements towards friendship with you, wanting to keep his quiet power forthcoming; but he liked how you were unapologetically yourself. Behind closed doors he thought of you fondly. Wondering how you could be around so many assholes all day, him included without blowing your top. He didn’t want to make you upset but he wondered what it took.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt protective over you around the others. What he didn’t like was how other people treated you. Not only for being associated with him, but he began to notice how people would use your kindness against you. You weren’t really ever bothered by it, but Draco had an outsider point of view. He could see they weren’t actually being your friends. For a while he let it go, trying to be unwavering. After a little while, he became suspicious of his posé and they’re use of you.

-

“Wait, you’re not in transfiguration this term?” Draco whispered learning over your shoulder. He noticed your hands scribbling down notes on parchment. You just furrowed your eyebrows trying to focus not looking back.

“Of course I’m not. This is for Pansy.” You whispered back.

You were in the library, attempting to use any last bit of school to be productive. Christmas break was around the corner and everyone was cramming or writing for their finals. Draco surprised you with his presence, but he usually found himself meddling with whatever you were doing.

Draco sighed quietly behind you, taking a seat next to you. You looked up at him, halting your hands from writing.

“Pansy huh.” He mumbled. He sat back lazily in the chair, his legs outstretched.

“What’s wrong?” You looked at him inquisitively, worried he had something on his mind that was bothering him. He just shook his head smilled lightly at you. He didn’t want to make a fuss, especially not in the library of all places. He made note to ask about it later, but you persisted.

“Come on-“ you smirked “I’m an academic.” you lifted your shoulders smiling at him jokingly. He chuckled, taking a breath in. He supposed now was a better time than any.

“I know, you’re incredibly smart. I just wonder if Pansy could do her own work.” He reached across the table scooting the parchment in front of himself to read. It wasnt just class notes, it was an essay. The final essay for advanced transfiguration; Pansy’s name scribbled on the top right corner.

“Well Pansy is my friend” You whispered. “She just asked for a little help. That’s all.” You grabbed it back taking another look at it.

You thought about it after a second. She was your friend. Right? She hung around you and Draco a lot; always around.

You sat back in the chair, laying your hands in your lap. You thought she was. She wouldn’t force you to do anything. She asked you fair and square, you could’ve said no. Right?

“Y/n.” He begins to notice your face change. Your demeanor more tense, your eyes looking around the library as if to find Pansy amongst the students.

“I must be wrong. I’m sorry for overstepping -“ Draco started

You soon started to recall when Pansy would approach you in the hallway. She was always surrounded by others, her questions quick and one sided. You always asked her how she was and she would brush it off, getting right to the assignment she “needed help on”. Not just Pansy, but your own housemates, strangers, anyone. You thought you were just reliable. A good friend? You didn’t understand.

You were soon embarrassed, how could you not see? You looked at Draco, his eyes empathetic. You looked at him, a small scowl on your face, pushing back the lump swelling in your throat.

“It’s fine. It’s none of your business anyway.” You begin to roll up the parchment, shoving it in your bag. Wasn’t Pansy his friend too? What was he trying to imply?

“I was just trying to be nice.” You whispered, clasping your bag shut, shoving it over your shoulder. Draco sat up in his chair now noticing how upset you were. “There’s nothing wrong with that” you choked.

“They were clearly taking advantage of that!” He finally stood grabbing your shoulder. You stood face to face, your cheeks red from embarrassment but also his touch. It sent flames through your body but your mind was too occupied to focus on it. He was close enough to smell the fabric softener on his uniform. A small mole on his jaw you’ve never noticed before.

“Since when do you care so much!” You whisper back. You knew that was rude to say, your own emotions boiling over. Draco’s grip on your shoulder tightened holding you where you were. A single tear fell from your eyes, releasing the floodgates. Draco sighed pulling you into his arms. You both stood in the library, his arms enveloping you, muffling your cries as you let it all out. You kept your arms to your side, too afraid to hug him back.

“I just want to look out for you.” He whispers into your ear. You say nothing, just crying into his chest. It was true. You were ditzy and unaware. No matter how kind you tried to be, how different of a slytherin you wanted to be, you were naive. Draco was tense, but his chest was comforting, the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

You felt yourself relax after a minute, the tears running dry. You slowly wrapped your arms around his torso hiccuping slightly trying to catch your breath. You could feel his heart speed at your touch. It ran rampant but his body language wouldn’t have revealed it to you if you didn’t have your head on his chest. He didn’t say a word, worried it would end the moment between you two. He laid his chin on the top of your head holding you tighter as you grip his shirt.

You don’t dare move. Both of you are afraid of the other's actions. Something changed between you two after today. Did Draco feel the same about you? Was it naive to think that? You were too confused in your own feelings to make clear of anything already upset from misreading the relationships of your so-called friends.

But Draco did feel the same. He relished in the feeling of your hair tickling his chin. He loved how short you were, fitting into his arms like a puzzle piece. He loved how different you were from him, the idea of him softening up because of you was welcoming. He wished he could hold you daily, not just to comfort you in times of pain.

“You don’t need to do their work anymore. And if they give you trouble I’ll be there. You can promise that.” He whispered. You swear you felt like you could fly. Only time would tell if his words rein true.

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

in the spirit of bonding over literati:

1. what is your fave jess one liner?

2. what is your fave rory come back?

3. fave literati exchange?

go crazy 💖

Okay, okay, let’s go!!

1. Ugh, Jess has SO MANY great one-liners, it’s practically impossible to say which one is The Best. “A solution would’ve been birth control — too late, move on” is pretty funny, but I think I’ll go with “You seem very obsessed with length”. I love how he didn’t humor Logan at all, and instead replied with the perfect a silly dick joke 😂 (well, he was being a dick, Jess had no choice but to respond accordingly 😌)

LoganHater!Jess is iconic.

2. I’m probably not educated enough on the non-Jess seasons to give you a true and fair assessment on that. But the first one that comes to mind is in the Pilot when Lorelai says “Hey, I had dibs on being the bitch tonight”, and Rory answers “Just tonight?” <- lmaooo (This Rory would’ve never dragged a dead relationship because of other people’s opinions — her mother’s especially.)

3. This one right here ↴

It’s not about what they’re saying, but rather how they’re saying it. I mean, the softness?? The absolute tenderness??? Jess’s tone when he asks “Oh, yeah?”, and Rory’s smile of pure, unbridled joy in the last gif… 🫠🪦🕊

But I love this entire scene. The way they just keep kissing, and pressing their foreheads together while they hold hands with their eyes closed…… It’s like they’re saying a prayer or something — they might as well be declaring their eternal devotion and undying love for each other at that moment 🤷‍♀️

Look, what eVEn is this?!?!

[hunterbunter3000]

Krueger being a seat sniffer isn’t shocking tbh 💀 that man def already picked out the names of his and Sweetheart’s future kids and wedding plans detailed in a binder (is he manifesting or delusional; who knows lol!).

He also def has a shrine dedicated to Sweetheart openly in his room, atleast the other boys have the decency to hide their shrines in their closet 😤😂

LMAOOO STOP THATS SO HIM (AND FUCKING EVERYONE ELSE)

He has like- three binders and two notebooks he has for Sweetheart and his future with her. Like it's just FILLED with where they would live, how many kids they would have, tHEIR NAMES, the colleges they would go to, the house he wants to get when they get married, THE WEDDING

MANS IS EVEN PLANNING FOR THEIR RETIREMENT LIKE-- KRUEGER??? he's delulu and manifesting for this to happen!! Let's cheer him on! ✨️🙏 PFFTT-

And yes. He has a shrine of Sweetheart. OBVIOUSLY. THE MOMENT YOU WALK IN its right there in your face. It's sitting on a small table-like stand and it's FILLED with framed pictures of Sweetheart and heart shaped candles around them. There's a long frame with gold on it, and inside of it is a nail set he got her his first time ever (that was three years ago 💀) She told him it was coming off, and she was so sad because he got it for her (he fell in love with her more because of that) so he helped her get them off, and he told her that he'll throw them away.

S I K E

once she left he threw them in his pocket so fast and ran off to his room 💀💀 and then there's a pedestal on the table, and it has a small, marble bust of Sweetheart he paid someone to do on etsy (HE LOVES ETSY IM NOT CHANGING MY MIND) and what's crazy is that all of its glued down to the table, and there's a button behind it, so he presses that button when Sweetheart comes around and the table top flips, being empty and he places magazines on the clean top 🧍‍♀️ THE MAN HAS A SECRET CONTRAPTION FOR HIS SHRINE

(You can't deny the fact that he prays to it as well. You CANT)

He's down horrifically bad. He wants her sO BADLY

well get tf in line BIG BOY CAUSE SO DOES EVERYONE ELSE

They don't really have shrines like Krueger (because he's delusional) but everyone does have a picture of Sweetheart or some sort of gift she's made them somewhere in their room. Or on them.

Like Alejandro has a small gold locket of Sweetheart he wears around his neck and NEVER TAKES IT OFF-- and when he's about to go on a mission, he kisses the locket, says a small prayer and puts it under his shirt, so he knows that he's protected and has someone to go back to (why am I making myself cry)

Rudy has a picture of Sweetheart framed with a letter she sent him on his desk with the little things she's made him. He reads the letter every time he misses her (WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MYSELF)

Ghost wears a braided friendship bracelet Sweetheart made him. (Its black and blue with lil skulls) He hides it on his left wrist with his glove, but he still wears it. When he's not around Sweetheart, he plays with the ties and smiles

Soap has like a little collage of pictures of Sweetheart and him on a corkboard. They take pictures when they're in a new country or state and collect weeds of flowers and give it to each other (SO CUTE I LOVE SOAP) and his sketchbook is FILLED of Sweetheart-- like he remembers what she looks like so much he sketches her from memory. And he uses a separate sketchbook for her, he calls it "Sweet's Looks".

Gaz only has one picture of her, and it's on his phone. It's Sweetheart cuddled up on his side, hand on his chest while watching a movie. It's obviously his home screen wallpaper (not his lock screen he can't handle that) he also has a little basket of different rocks Sweetheart has given him because she has a little basket of rocks he has given her as well (they're birds I tell ya)

Price has a photo of her in his hat. That's why he never lets anyone touch it, and his heart beats a little quicker when Sweetheart wears is hat cause he's nervous she's gonna see the picture (she has, and it's her and Brutus together and she squeals everytime in her mind)

Roach has a picture of Sweetheart taped to a bear. 🧍‍♀️ don't really wanna go into that one--

Alex has like- one of those photo booth type of pictures. Yk the ones that come in threes or fours. They went to a mall and Sweetheart HAD to get some. Alex uses his as a bookmark.

Now Horangi is like Krueger. He DOES have a shrine but it's in his closet. You will NEVER SEE IT.

König would have a shrine in his closet as well, but it's SMALL. Like two pictures and a good luck letter she wrote to him when he was on a mission. He's so soft for her good lord.

Graves has like.... I don't know a paperclip? That Sweetheart gave him? Think he still has that pen that Sweetheart forgot to take back. Still counts.

[mynameis-noe-body]

hello umm so i’m the howler anon haha

okay hear me out! if you don’t mind can i make an addition for my previous request?

i’m sorry but-this idea just popped out i just can’t ignore it: a scene where snape replay the memories of their night in spinner’s end in his pensieve.

it can be the pensieve scene leading up to their howler exchange(s) ? or the other way around where the howler exchange leading up to snape replaying the memories. ooorrrr he watch/reacting to the memories and narrating it to the howler he’ll sent later to licorice.

orr you can reverse it where it’s licorice having a pensieve or you can do both or mixed things up lmaooo idk anymore😭😭😭i’m such indecisive person so please your choice i trust your creative liberties 🫡

whatever your choice i’d be happy to read it

and thank you so much for accepting my previous request! ❤️

Here is your drabble — it's short, but it's hot. I'll try to write more in the next day, in the meantime I hope you'll enjoy this. Thank you so much for requesting. 🖤

I can't stop thinking about it. Thinking about you, your hands, the way I came to your gentle touch. I think of you, and I dream of you. At night, when I'm alone, I imagine your tongue between my sweet lips —

Severus squeezes the letter between his fingers with such force that it crumples all over. It's the third time he reread it. He can't take it anymore. He can't stop thinking about it. At first he denied himself any pleasure — touching himself at the memory of that night is damn wrong, she's far away and if she knew, if she could see the way he's desperate for some relief, it would be awkward and embarassing. When that howler arrived, though... along with that letter! He couldn't resist. And now, for the third time, Severus can't stop thinking about it. Her breasts between his lips, her firm nipples, the sweet taste of juices around her small, tight pussy. His greedy hand squeezes the head of his cock, and he digs his teeth into his cheek to hold back a moan, failing miserably. His cock slides so deliciously into his hand — legs wide open on the couch, hand full of lube gripping his member tightly, wanking it intensely, up and down, little drops of precum slide down his length making everything so wet and warm.

That howler — Severus still remembered the sweet, desperate sounds of your breathing, your deep panting, his name whispered like a prayer. And the intense moan of your orgasm.

I want to feel you inside, I want you deep inside me. I want your fingers and your tongue and —

"F-fuck" Severus growls. He's close, so close.

— your hands pulling my hair, and spanking me. I want you to remember how much I am yours, I want you to leave marks and bruises on me as if —

"Ah! God — yes!" with a strangled moan, Severus tightens his entire hand around his cock. His orgasm explodes. Rich streams of seed dirty his hand.

You're perfect. Even in his memories, even in your letters. With a resigned sigh, cleaning himself of all the sweat, the lubricant and his own semen, he grabs pen and paper. There is only one thing he wants to write in his response letter.

Come back soon. I need you.

[whateveryouiguess]

four letter word.

Miguel O’ Hara x Reader, 1k+ words

Warnings: None i don’t think, mentions of Miguel’s comic origin along w his movie lore, she/her pronouns r used in this one, mostly sentimental ramblings abt everyone’s favorite problematic bb girl, improper punctuation and capitalization bc i’m a poet and i simply cant be bothered LMAOOO. lmk whatcha think :)

last night, miguel told her he hated her.

at least, that’s how he heard it. with her hand in his hair and his head nestled between the ridges of her collarbone and the crook of her neck, his eyes closed as every bit of the days worries seemed to float away, just as they always did when he was in her arms. craning his neck up to see the edge of her face backlit by the lamp light, the gentle contours of her face illuminated like a Rembrandt painting. the crest of dawn was creeping, seeping through the cracks in the windowsill, the green blue sky still freckled with stars as the world stay asleep. universes laid to rest in their cozy beds, minds at ease, all shrouded in blankets and carpeted by dreams: all but him. he never slept very much anyway; if there wasn’t a pressing mission keeping him awake, it was the ghosts that waited for him behind his eyes.

the compilation of all his hardest, worst moments, playing on a loop in the empty theatre of his hippocampus. the icy sensation of a rapture high, the white hot pain of withdrawal. the strands of spider dna that launched a foot race through him as he injected himself with nothing but a hope and a prayer. the stretching of his jaw, the razor sharp fangs that grew onto his incisors, the indicators that he would forever be other. though the coercive whispers of his addiction had grown quiet, the blood curdling screams of his wife and child still echoed through him, day by day, night by night, every hour on the hour. it was years before he could look at happy families without the urge to scratch at his leg with one of his talons. that should’ve been us. that would’ve been us if I hadn’t fucked it up so badly. he’d learned to let the ghosts just float by, a technique begrudgingly introduced into his life once it was recommended by jess, practically his therapist (and a mind reader, as he hadn’t once asked for her help). part of him—a stupid, naive, part—hoped that they would never truly go away. in his mind, in the absence of them, it was as though their screams were close enough to their laughter that he could pretend he still heard them, that when he rose from his bedroom each morning, he would still find them laughing and carrying on as they made sunday breakfast, or that when he woke up to an empty house, there they would be, playing in the soil and pruning the rose bushes out back, but at the end of the day, he knew they wouldn’t be. there was no stove for them to warm tortillas on for breakfast tacos. and there was no garden of roses to prune on the cold, lawn-less patio of his high rise apartment. it was just him and his grief.

but miguel didn’t believe in that “five stages” bullshit. just another myth of psychology constructed by scientists to put the suffering at ease, he thought. to give them a timeline of their hurting, to provide them not with a date or location of when, but a clear indicator that the dust of hurting would one day settle, and that the war inside their head would one day be over. he thought they’d figured that was a good enough bandage for the gash of death. but no one talks about the scar that comes once that gash is healed. no one talks about the ripping of the stitches, or the blinding pain that follows when the wounds reopen and clot and scab over and over and over again, never quite sealing shut. miguel knew in his head that he would never heal, and part of him was grateful. if he never healed, he never had to let them go. THAT was why he hated her.

he hated her because the very second he first saw her, he could hear the bells. she smiled at no one and nothing in particular, and his national anthem blared on speakers through the streets, the song he hadn’t heard since the day he lost the first loves of his life. she said hello, and flags were raised once again, she waved goodbye and the city streets, littered in bombshells and empty magazines swept themselves clean, a cold rain poured down from the sky and civilians left their homes for the first time in days to watch the downpour, to dance in it. war was over, whether he liked it or not.

and now, with his head on her chest and her heartbeat in his ear, the ghosts have found their final resting place and kissed his cheeks goodbye, one last time. and though he never loses sight of them, they don’t scream his name from the rubble anymore. they whisper to him, egging him on, encouraging him on days when he can’t find the strength in himself to keep going. the specters are like saints to him now, a crutch to lean on when he wants her so badly it makes him miss them. he kneels at their gravestone and weeps, just for them to rest on his shoulder and sigh. and they forgive him. they let him go. free him into the expanses of the wild with the knowledge that he’s ready to survive on his own, and they cheer jubilantly when he runs straight to her, as if there were anywhere else for him to go.

miguel hates her. he hates the way her laughter makes his stomach bubble, he detests the sweet, potent smell of the still-steamy bathroom as she exits the shower (he also hates the little messages she leaves for him in the fogged up mirror—finger traced transmissions reading “hi, handsome!” and “we’re out of toilet paper <3”). and he hates, most of all, that she doesn’t have to try. she never once forced him to open up to her, starting the game and waiting till he was comfortable enough to lay out his cards. he was guarded as all get out before he met her, but he broke down brick walls to let her in, not because she asked him to, or even because she said she requested entry. because he knew it was time to open. it was time for the eastern and western regions of himself to meet and rejoice once again, to end the era of his solitude and self pity, and to allow the soft smiles and crows feet to return to his face again.

he hates how easy it was to fall apart in her arms, and how easily she puts him back to together. he hates how she never needed him, but wanted him more than anything, he hates how she made an effort for him, because no one else ever had, and he hates most of all that there isn’t a single fiber of his being that could ever, in any fraction of the multiverse, bring the whole of him to truly and earnestly detest her. he hates her because he doesn’t hate her. not one bit at all.

so, in the present moment, when he cranes his neck up to see her, eyes only half open in the wee, small, hours of the morning, he traces a hand down her jaw and rests his palm behind her ear and strokes his thumb across her cheek. the sleepy smile that pulls from her entraps him, the feeling of her nails scratching at the nape off his entombs him, he knows he is royally and utterly screwed, tortured by the mere experience of her. so he licks his cracked lips and elects to give her a piece of his mind.

but when he opens his mouth to tell her how much he hates her, hate doesn’t end up being the four letter word he uses.

.

ty for reading <3 if ya have any requests send em my way and maybe i’ll do em who knows. take it easy :)

[daycourtofficial]

Bestie.... This is the co-worker anon, holy shit, this is going to be long. His sister came up to me during dinner and told me that she took matters into her own hands (a.k.a sending you an ask in case I have your notifications on and saw it--which I do, have your notifs on I mean, when I have the Tumblr app installed. But work was picking up and I got so busy I uninstalled all social media app off my phone).

WORRY NOT!!! I will dedicate an altar for you. Seriously, with the seasoned cum ask printed out (if I can find the post again), and candles, and pretty fairy lights, and some autumn themed stuff, the whole shebang.

YES IT'S CARI CAN READ! He said Sarah writing style is not for him so he can't make himself read the book, but he did watch several ACOTAR explained video so he'll understand what I'm talking about.

I don't know about marriage, but we've been to several dinner and we went to an amusement park date yesterday after I offhandedly said I haven't been to one in years. And I've met his family and y'know... I debated sending you updates via asks anytime something happened but I like the idea of having this for myself (even though technically none of you would actually know since this is on anon lmao). But it's the vibes y'know, I'm just private, this started off as something hilarious but the more time I spend with him the more serious it goes and I didn't feel like sharing, even anonymously.

OKAY BUT ON A MORE SERIOUS NOTE! Really though, if this works out long term, I will absolutely gave 83% credit to your for kick starting our relationship (the 17% was to me for opening Tumblr on company time).

FRIEND, HE'S LIKE he answer to all of my (@ God; me when?) prayers? HE'S A DECENT GUY? They're still here? They didn't only exist in books? (I'm chalking it up mostly to him having 2 older sister and one younger). But really, he's really amazing. And while I will always be mortified that he started talking to me because of That post, the feeling of gratefulness is bigger.

REALLY THOUGH HOW AM I SUPOOSED TO CONVEY HOW GRATEFUL I AM? I'll just pray all the happiness and giddiness I've felt the past month come back to you tenfold luv!!!

Bestie I think about you once a week. I totally get the privacy thing, I’m the same way. i keep things to myself too.

God I hope this is real bc this is the funniest and sweetest thing to ever happen lmaooo

Thank you for the altar, I hope you have a fall themed wedding if it ever gets there 🙏🏻 an homage to Eris

You found your little ginger omg I’m so happy for you!! I will accept your 83/17 split, your new man had nothing to do with it

Anyway feel free to drop by on occasion and let me know how you’re doing!! Sending all the love is happiness (and flavored cum) to you both 🥰🥰

[obsessedwiththedragonprince]

Se4 ep6 thoughts

I love how Soren sees the dragon and is immediately like: ✨️friends✨️? Big puppy energy. Looks so innocent!! Well that didn't go well.

No-one looking for Soren? Yikes. Wow Rayla took you long enough lmao. Not like he didn't come home last night!

Whatcha doing? while Ezran's discovering he's the new spiderman.

Zubeia will not be pleased.

Finally some thought to the freaking anonymous elf!! Did i mention how much i am loving the accent? Because yes.

Lmao Raylaa

What is this????

Like ig there was a different light source and they changed it later but does no-one watch this like, I dunno, a thousand times before it's released??

My distracted ass had to go make these gifs mid episode because why not. And this was my first time making one so when i clicked the tick and it didn't appear as an option in my videos from gallery i tried again. And again. And again. Then realised i had four of them in the gallery. So yeah. That happened.

Anyway continuing my watch. Lmaoo not even 6 minutes. Oops...

Poor Bait getting knocked overr. And again why can Ez see through Zym's eyes? Will we ever know?

Amaya it is not just a fricking candlee. Like I love you but show some respect please. Okay that escalated quickly. Is there no way to like, give the elf some comfort or something that doesn't involve killing? Like yes i actually get why death would be an appropriate punishment cause in their eyes extinguishing that candle is prolly worse than killing someone cause if u kill they still get to the afterlife but. I think the focus should also be on the elf and doing sth for his benefit?

Um i guess earthblood elves don't know he's the dragon prince? Cause otherwise they have some serious trouble coming. Is Callum going to save the day? This blackout transition was a bit unusual. Looked fine but not really their style?

Are we getting some info on elven politics? Masked guys? This little smile thing between Karim and one of Six Horns... he did some bribing? Hope not cause this could turn ugly. It prolly will who am i lying to.

'Don't u remember who u are' felt a little forced to me. They often have those inspiring speeches that don't feel like they belong there. Why isn't Callum flying around looking for Zym? And why wasn't he their 'eyes' to begin with?

The kiddo is back again! Kinda didn't like that was all we saw of him so welcome back!

Karim u little shit. I don't yet know what he's planning but i feel it in my bones it ain't nothing good. Best case he just wants them gone from Xadia. Hopefully.

Why did that elf go after Rayla? Because they are so-called protectors? That little Bait smile lmaooo. Another gif incoming.

I am a pro now.

Anyway.

Amaya on the side of the elves yes please. But i think she'll do the same Karim did with some kind of I dunno. Not clearing her of guilt completely but sth. Yess compassionate justice pleasee. I feel like they won't listen cause it'd be too good to be true but still. Prolly Karim bribing people won't help. Still not sure if he did.

This catching dragons really reminds me of HTTYD. This boy is the next Hiccup. N'than i love youuu.

Damn for a moment i really thought she'll cut her hands off. Ig that wouldn't really belong on screen but i thought the same for blood so...

this was so good!! I loved it! I actually cried Just hope Janai didn't undermine herself and look weak in the eyes of other elves. I feel like this was also more realistic so they didn't escalate things for no reason. Just show them all trying to get along. Sometimes successfully, other times less so. In love with how Janai said compassion

This entire scene was a masterpiece idc. How the architect broke down crying from relief and stress, the shrine idea, how the elf subtly accepted this as retribution, how it drove a divide between Karim and Janai, how logical the punishment was, it will be the greatest work of my life... just. Peak animation.

I knew it! The Pit of Despair, answer to all our prayers.

Will Karim and Janai fix things or will Karim not be understanding? Again a pretty scene, and Karim doesn't look hostile so far so yayy

I wanted to ask before but how long did Rayla and Soren actually knew each other? Cause i was under the impression that Rayla left practically at the end of se3 but Soren acted like they were kinda close earlier and now Rayla sounds really distressed?

Ohh Karimm lover boyy! Is he going to usurper her? Really?

Lmaoo Soren late to the party😂😂 omgg they're so cuteeee! ✨️friends✨️ for real now

The happiness on his face🥹

OMGG SIBLINGS REUNIONN!!!!

[sometimesanalice]

Me getting the notification:

Me at the end:

Abby!

You did the absolute most with this!!

Bob and Natasha were your coworkers. You shouldn't be having dreams about them, especially ones where they're fucking you at the same time. — ok but where’s the fun in that?! 🤭🤭

That's why their touch seemed to always linger. That's why they would look at you and then whisper to each other. — sure, jan 😏😏😏 but also the way I’m dying to know how those little convos went!

The dream still plagued your thoughts. It felt so real. You shouldn't be thinking about it, hell, you shouldn't be hoping for a sequel as you lied awake in bed at night.— ahhhhhh!! The way I’d be recreating the exact way I’d fallen asleep the first time in hopes for a reprise lmaooo. Lighting a prayer candle and hoping for the best 😂

"It's just....feels like you've been avoiding us. And we really miss our favorite mechanic, don't we Bob?" There was a sweetness to her voice, one that was laced with mischievous. — our favorite mechanic 🤭

as Bob was able to unbutton your jeans with just one hand. — 😵‍💫😮‍💨 I don’t have the words. But the thought of that man’s big hands?! Checking myself into a nice seaside resort 🫡

"Can even go to your place if you'd like. Recreate that dream." Both their lips were covering your neck. — AHHHHH!! No words, just squealing!

For Bob or Natasha! Dealers choice! 🎲

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

Why not both?? 👀👀👀

Your bed was an entanglement of limbs. Natasha's breasts against yours, Bob's cock in-between your legs. Her lips on yours, his on your neck.

They felt so good, their hands exploring your body. The pleasure was building, increasing and increasing until-

The sound of your alarm was downright cruel. You sat up in your bed, feeling sweat on your skin.

Laying back down, you tried to gather your bearings. But that was really fucking difficult considering you just had a wet dream about your two coworkers.

Fuck.

Bob and Natasha were your coworkers. You shouldn't be having dreams about them, especially ones where they're fucking you at the same time.

After transferring to Miramar, you received a warm welcome from everyone in the dagger squad, particularly the pilot and WSO duo.

They had to just be friendly; Bob because he was raised to be a gentleman, Natasha because having another woman was such a rarity.

That had to be it.

That's why they always checked in on you. That's why their touch seemed to always linger. That's why they would look at you and then whisper to each other.

Any thoughts that maybe, just maybe, it was something beyond friendliness, you tried to push away. And you thought you had been pretty successful.

Until this morning.

At work, you simply waved to Bob and Natasha and quickly sat down, not stopping for your usual chit chat. You could feel their stares burning into your back. But there was no way you could face them without getting flustered. At least not for a few days.

Then things could go back to normal.

You didn't outright ignore the two, but your conversations with them were much shorter and with very little eye contact.

Thanks to being a mechanic, you were able to whisk yourself away from their eager eyes.

The dream still plagued your thoughts. It felt so real. You shouldn't be thinking about it, hell, you shouldn't be hoping for a sequel as you lied awake in bed at night.

"Hey angel," Natasha's voice was smooth, almost seductive. She had found you outside the Hard Deck. You left to get air (and maybe to avoid being sandwiched in between her and Bob in a booth).

But your attempt was in vain. Bob appeared, standing behind you. With Natasha inches away, you were trapped.

"Did we do something wrong angel?" Bob asked, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Wha- no! What makes you think that?" Way to play it cool.

Nat's fingers skimmed the side of your shirt. You took a step back, only to bump into Bob. His large hands grabbed your hips, not only steadying you, but also forcing you to remain in your spot.

"It's just....feels like you've been avoiding us. And we really miss our favorite mechanic, don't we Bob?" There was a sweetness to her voice, one that was laced with mischievous.

Bob squeezed the plush flesh of your hips, "We do. Every time we've tried to talk to ya in the last few days has been cut short."

"We just wanted to make sure we hadn't done anything to hurt you," her fingers skimmed the side of your neck, stopping just before reaching your clothed breasts.

It took everything in you not to whine.

"You....you two have done nothing wrong. It's me, don't worry about it."

Bob chuckled, the sound vibrating against you, "We always worry about ya darlin'."

His words made you stop in your tracks, made you reevaluate every interaction you've had with the two.

"R-really?" You still asked, still needing that verbal confirmation to prove you weren't overthinking or misinterpreting.

Natasha smiled as she extended a hand to cup the side of your face, "'Course we do angel."

Bob gently squeezed your hips, as if to encourage you. After all, there was nothing 'friendly' about this.

You took a deep breath, "I uh .....I had a dream about you two the other night."

"What kinda dream?" Bob asked, his voice a near growl. Nat stepped forward, her body brushing against yours now.

"I...I woke up wet."

You don't know whose lips you felt first. Nat's lips were soft. As were Bob's, but his lips were thinner. Nat used more teeth, whereas Bob left open mouth kisses, his tongue tasting your skin.

Despite it being new territory, you were able to quickly distinguish between the pilot and the WSO.

"She's so soft Bob," Nat murmured, "Feel her tits, they're perfect."

His large hands moved up your body, cupping your breasts. Bob's fingers were swift and nimble, able to find your nipples despite the layers of clothing.

Just like up in the sky, they were a well oiled machine, able to alternate who would kiss you and where. Nat's hand wandered down, slipping past the waistband of your jeans.

You couldn't help but moan. Your body felt like it was on fire from being touched all over. Her fingers skimmed over your clothed core. Your hips greedily jerked upwards, trying to get more.

"Is she wet Phe?" Bob asked, in-between pressing a mixture of kisses and love bites to your neck.

Nat chuckled, obviously aware of how damp the center of your panties were, "She sure is. Tell us angel, what we were doing in that dream of yours?"

She withdrew her hand, allowing Bob to have a turn. You felt her fingers knead your breasts, as Bob was able to unbutton your jeans with just one hand.

"I....we were on my bed," you stammered, finding it difficult to focus with the way Bob was lazily drawing circles on your covered clit, "And I was...in between you two. K-kinda like this."

"You wanna make that happen? We can go somewhere private," Bob murmured.

"Can even go to your place if you'd like. Recreate that dream." Both their lips were covering your neck.

You nodded, unable to speak. All you wanted to do was focus on how good they felt.

"Well then, let's get going."

Fuck.

[sexysilverstrider]

guess who overslept!!

[blahkugo]

𝟕 ༒ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔶

⤷ dirty valentine m.list

⤷ complete hq m.list

wakatoshi ushijima — adultery / cucking

a/n: fucked around and made this kinda sad </3 that wasn’t in the plan but oh well

wc: 2.2k

tw: infidelity (obviously), exhibitionism / car sex, (1) forced orgasm, sadness (lmaooo)

“We can’t.”

It’s a phrase constantly crawling on the tip of your tongue—whispered beneath the flickering lights of club bathrooms or dimly-lit restaurant tables, sighed in grimy alleyways, and whined beneath stolen sheets. They’re words that exist everywhere, but always, always in the dark.

In the dark, it doesn’t feel so wrong.

“Stop it,” you hiss, swatting at the grabby hands on your hips. You ignore the fact that you allow his fingers to graze you for a second too long, pretend that his every touch is meaningless, does nothing to set your skin on fire or send your heart beating out of its cage.

Unapologetic and unyielding, it seemed ‘Toshi never quite understood the concept of personal space when it came to you. Even as kids, it was always welcomed; not once did you think him a nuisance. Not after a long night of too much tequila, when you crawled into bed together at age 17, not when you awoke the next morning enveloped in the larger man’s warm embrace, and not even when it happened again—and again, and again, and again.

‘Strictly sexual,’ you’d assert, huddled around a group of high school friends pressed for dirty details, but even then you didn’t believe it. Because the truth is plain as day: you’re in love with him.

But you are not in love with the ring on his left hand, four fingers down.

That same bejeweled digit grips your waist beneath the table right now, kneading and tickling at slick skin. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t have to, because his hand knows you’ll be there. Always there, always trembling, while your eyes flit back and forth between the side of his head and the door—feigning innocence while knowing his wife is just a few rooms away.

“I said stop, ‘Toshi,” your voice betrays you, hitching with every tap of his fingers. Though he finally turns to meet your eyes, he doesn’t slow or halt his movements, just stares unblinking for a long while.

It’s a feat not many attempt—the art of the long, fixed stare—yet, Ushijima has perfected it. And it would drive you absolutely insane if you didn’t know that with the towering man, there is no deceit in that gaze; what you see is what you get.

“We’re leaving,” his words come slow, but stern. And before you can utter a word of disagreement, he’s already got his coat on, his keys clinking in the palm of his hands. He doesn’t bother with her, simply calls to the other room, “I’ll be back love.”

She doesn’t question it, never does, but if it’s because she doesn’t want to or he never gives her the chance, you’re not quite sure. Either way, you’ve decided you don’t have the time to care, because you’re already out the door and in his sleek, black Escalade before you can bat an eye.

The ride back to your place is silent, as much of your time is with Ushijima now. It’s not a terrible predicament, might even be comfortable, but you can’t deny the slight turn in your gut when you glance towards him.

Is it guilt? Is it knowing precisely what will happen the moment he halts the car in a shaded area—always a shaded area, even when the sun is down—and bores into you once more with those olive eyes?

Or is it just anticipation?

You know the truth too well to lie. It’s felt it in every clench of your thighs, every gaze at hulking biceps as one hand grips the steering wheel, and every slow inch of his free hand up your thigh. He rubs soft circles into the skin mindlessly, a motion he’s too used to doing to think immoral.

But it is, or it should be. Because Ushijima knows exactly how this is going to end, knows that same hand will be picking at forbidden fruit before long—delving into a sweet nectar even Adam and Eve wouldn’t dare lay a finger on.

“You can just let me out here,” you attempt to avoid the inevitable, only to be ignored. He walks you up to your apartment, always does. Ushijima’s a man of honor, after all. Shows honor to his teammates, to his body, to his poor, sweet wife waiting at home; he’s just so good like that, you know?

You’re not in love with your fingers when they’re a prickly green, clenched against the cold leather seat.

Once he parks in a tight corner, far from any night owl neighbor’s prying eyes, he finally turns to you again. Maybe it’s the moon, the soft wisps of light that seem to strike him at the perfect angles, or perhaps it’s the devil’s sweet temptation—the simple knowledge that he wants it too. You’re not quite sure, but you can’t help yourself anymore.

Not when you climb across your seat and into his lap, not when you wrap your arms around him and pull close, and especially not when you nuzzle into his neck, inhaling enough pine and patchouli—the cologne he’s been wearing since you complimented it so many years ago—to last you for years to come.

“Missed you,” you exhale into warm skin.

“I see you everyday.”

“Still missed you.” And though Ushijima doesn’t say much, his arms pull you in just a bit tighter—and it says enough.

Before you know it, your nuzzles become open mouthed kisses, frantically peppered across the golden skin of his neck. There’s not enough time, never enough time, to appreciate Ushijima for what he’s worth.

But you try your damned hardest, sucking the skin just hard enough to elicit sharp inhales, but never to leave marks of your worship. This is the devil’s game after all, tempting you just enough to become enamored while knowing he’s not yours.

When he wraps a hand around your neck to tug you away, your stomach drops with disappointment for a moment. This is it, the moment you’ve always dreaded; Ushijima’s ready to end this crime of passion and go back to being the dutiful husband he is. But he only uses the movement to smash your lips together, to situate his broad arms at your hips, your waist, the little dip at the small of your back.

Ushijima’s kisses are much like his presentation to the world—sturdy, unwavering, stable. He isn’t sloppy or especially fervent like you are, clinging to him with need. His makeouts are a reassurance, a tiny pocket of home. Still, his body seems to betrays that show of strength, goosebumps running up the sides of his arms as you graze them, chest heaving while his tongue runs across your teeth and settles into yours.

“Take it off,” he snaps the waistband of your sweats, watchful eyes roaming the small stretch of skin. It’s a simple command, one that you follow happily, wiggling out of your clothing with a few soft giggles.

Your hands dart beneath his shirt, lightly scratching at the solid muscle that seems to tense beneath your touch. “You too,” you murmur between pecks, and when he doesn’t comply, “please.”

As soon as his chest is visible, you’re on him. It’s a feeling you can never get enough of, the smooth expanse of his pecks beneath your lips, licking and suckling at any inch you can get your mouth on. It’s fun, addicting even, but ‘Toshi’s reaction is what truly makes it worthwhile.

His breath hitches all at once, legs stiffening beneath you as fingernails dig crescents into your waist. Experimentation in college taught you that if you lick at his nipples, he might even let out a soft moan or two. And the sound makes you keen with desire, even if it is a bit comical (who’d have known the big, Adonis of a man likes getting his chest played with?)

For a brief moment, you wonder if she knows, before quickly dispelling the thought. This is your time with him, and besides–

“Oh– fuck,” you whine, brought back by Ushijima’s long middle finger grazing your slit. “Again.”

This time, you don’t have to say please.

Despite the lack of space, he takes his time sinking his fingers into you and—given the length you’re about to be taking—you appreciate the deed. He works you open, pumping you with a single digit before adding another.

Those lithe fingers don’t let up until you’re shaking, gripping his shoulders, mumbling prayers and curses into his skin. Every circle at your clit makes you gasp, every squelch of his fingers curling inside your tight cunt only makes you wetter.

“Let go,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, waiting oh-so patiently, even as his cock strains against your ass. Once, when he’d drunk enough to become uncharacteristically vocal, he’d confessed his favorite feeling was your ‘warm hole clenching around him’ when you reached your peak.

It’s that sudden memory that makes you shake your head, exhaling a distressed ‘nuh uh’ while he continues pressing into you. Ushijima’s eyebrows furrow in confusion before he ticks his jaw, the thumb on your clit simply moving faster to expel—what he thinks is—a sudden burst of brattiness. “I said,” he presses at the spot that makes your stomach drop, “cum.”

“Wait- ah, fuck– fuck!” Try as you might, you can’t stop the wave of pleasure that washes over you, your toes curling, head resting on his shoulder to steady yourself as you ride out your high. All the while, his fingers never stop moving, free hand shifting to stroke at your sweat-soaked hair while you tremble and clutch at him with shaky arms.

When he finally lets up, you remove your face from the crook of his neck, looking to Ushijima once more only to find him staring. His eyes are glassy, pupils blown over so heavily with lust, it lights you with a fervor and—as is the hulking man’s usual effect on you—you find yourself unable to think before moving.

You’re frenzied, kissing him once more, carding fingers through his hair, and tugging hard enough to elicit sharp gasps. You’re never quite so aggressive with him, typically leaving the dominance of it all to your insatiable counterpart, but the guttural moan that leaves his lips when you unsheath him only spurs you further.

“I wanted to ride you,” you speak while lining his cock against your slick cunt, “wanted to feel you inside me before I came.”

And with that simple sentence, your little moment of power comes to a close. Ushijima sinks into you with one quick movement, stretching you in a way that makes your skin burn and your gut heavy. Your arms are quickly bound behind you by his own, used as mere handles to pull you down against him with every thrust.

Even as you cry out, faint mumbles mounting to incoherent wails, there doesn’t seem to be any sort of reprieve. The air is thick, humid, filled with Ushijima’s low grunts, subtle curses, and the ever-enticing command to ‘stop whining and fucking take it.’

You know he doesn’t typically speak this way, knows that he says it for you and you alone—that he loves the way it makes your eyes widen and your mouth slacken, thighs snapping closed as you attempt to hold off for just a bit longer. It never works, because he knows you just as well. Every inch of your body feels empty when his hands aren’t roaming them, when he isn’t tweaking a finger against your pebbled nipples or running a warm palm up the small of your waist.

“Close?” He grunts, throwing his head back against the seat, unrelenting in pace. You can do nothing but let out garbled responses, crosses between ‘God, yes,’ and disjointed cries of his name over and over again. “Go ahead,” it’s less a green light and more a command, “cum for me.”

His dirty words may be curated for you, but it’s always the honesty of his eyes that sends you over. With Ushijima, what you see is what you get, and you swear it’s love you see—pure, unadulterated, clear as day.

When you feel yourself beginning to peak, it’s his eyes, of course, that render you immobile. You can’t bring yourself to settle into the crook of his neck, to bite his shoulder or screw your face shut. There is nothing to do but to look at him—to try and master the art of the long, fixed stare as he has—and fall apart.

“Oh fuck– ‘Toshi,” your mouth can’t keep up with the pleasure washing over you, “fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you.”

They’re words you’ve never dared utter, not like this, but once they’re out you can’t seem to stop yourself. They become a mantra, a broken record, a prayer that perhaps he’ll say them right back to you. Again and again, riding out your high as you shake and tremble and exhaust yourself with the words. I love you. I love you. I love you.

But words called out in the dead of night mean nothing to the day.

[sukirichi]

Idk what this would really count as???? But which of the jjk lads do you think would be down to reenact iconic vines with their crush—

I LOVE VINES SO TSYM FOR THIS QUESTION, I’m sorry I took forever to respond lmao but jjk lads who are most to least down to reenact iconic vines with their crush would be... (lowkey just the vines who I think radiate the same energy as them though)

GOJO SATORU. No questions asked, if you tell him you want to reenact it, he’ll be all up for it. Would totally go the extra mile just to make it as accruate as possible. I can definitely see him wanting to do the, “Hey Darren,” “Sup bitch,” “Stop.” “Bitch.” “UGH.” Oh and plot twist, you’re the Darren. Satoru won’t pass up at any chance to moan like a little bitch. also, HIGHKEY I can see him doing the “so no head?” vine and just stomping the skateboard LMAOOO

INUMAKI TOGE. Listen, listen. I know Toge doesn’t talk that much so he’s REALLY into social media. Boy keeps a whole ass folder of vines just so he can watch them again and again, and when you finally ask him to do it with you, he’s more than happy to. But ofc, this is the vine it will be. You, Toge, and Yuuji will also happily do the “it goes around the world la la la” vine during 3am LOL. Oh and one last thing, IF HE COULD SAY IT, I can totally see Toge wearing Maki’s skirt but instead of going TAKANA! he’s like, “Hi, welcome to Chili’s.” 

+ bonus for Toge: if he’s home alone and he knows he can’t harm anyone, he’s going to get on top of his counters and just goes, “LET’S FREAKING LOSE IT. GET OUT OF YOUR MIND!”

ITADORI YUUJI. He’s so down for pretty much anything, he’s so happy to do things with you! But also he’s pretty airheaded sometimes (I’m sorry lol) so he doesn’t even realize you’re lowkey making fun of him when you guys do the, “Hey Jared, can you read number 19?” and Yuuji proudly goes, “No, I cannot.” 

+ bonus: You and Yuuji are out holiday shopping when he whips out his phone and goes, “Happy Krismes. Marry crisis. Merry Chrysler.”

Not a dude but KUGISAKI NOBARA. She’s the queen of vines. She literally knows all the lines and 11/10 could cite it from memory. So when you ask her to recreate some vines with you she’s like, “duh, of course I’m down.” The vine I can see her recreating is the, “hey, what’s on your face?” and she goes, “UHM, BEAUTY?” or, “When there’s too much drama ass at school, all you gotta do is, walk awayyyyy~” 

+ bonus: Nobara, vine recreation or not, anytime a man steps out of line she would do the, “So you’re just gonna bring me a birthday gift to my birthday party on my birthday?” “Happy Birthday!” you know what happens next. 

MAHITO. I’m sorry for this one, but I headcanon Mahito is a crackhead. He’s up for the idea and even enjoys it maybe a little too much. When you put both hands in prayer, you say, “Our father,” Mahito would deadass say, “Our daddy.”

OKKOTSU YUTA. I feel like he’s a pretty shy guy, but once he’s grown comfortable with you, he’ll start opening up to new things and try out fun stuff like recreating vines. And meanwhile, you’re just trying not to laugh as you video a greasy haired Yuuta staring at the meme of shoving blankets under his feet on a computer and he goes, “Haha, I do that.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. Okay, he’s not really recreating the vine with you because I headcanon Megumi is uncomfortable with people taking photos and videos of him, but Toge has his camera whipped out as you’re walking side by side without bending the knees, Shawn Mendes’ Stitches guitar intro playing in the background and the camera pans to a really disappointed Megumi shaking his head and just giving up on life.

bonus for Megumi: he takes out a crucifix while his Divine Dogs are summoned and goes, “the power of Christ compels you!”

RYOUMEN SUKUNA. Similar to Megumi, he isn’t that fond of having a camera pointed his way, but when you held up a product to him and goes, “Dad, it’s the good kush,” Sukuna just deadass responds with, “This is the dollar store. How good could it be?”

Honestly I have a lot of vine ideas for all of them so if you want a longer and more chaotic conversation about that, hmu anon!

[spitdrunken]

guardian angel ( ray x reader)

i’ve been playing a lot of the ssum lately and unlocked ‘the canals of sensitivity’ which is basically like. a place to post fanfic LMAOOO so i cleaned up a ray x reader i wrote like two years ago and posted it there. the original version is orphaned on ao3 and kinda sucks but shhh

notes: obsessive behaviour, stalking, unrequited feelings, vague religious themes (because of mint eye’s influence on ray), mentioned selfharm (biting)

summary: The two of you have never met. You aren’t even aware of his existence. But Ray knows you, knows how you laugh when you think no one is watching, knows the videos you find comfort in late at night, and the friends you only talk to through messages on a screen. It pains him how he can’t reach out to you yet. He’ll give the hope that has dimmed from your eyes another chance to grow ablaze.

Soon, he’ll be the angel guiding you to paradise. So keep clinging on to his hand until then, okay? 

You’re wearing something new today.

The sight makes Ray perk up in his seat, his eyes glued to the screen. The video quality from the surveillance camera is so poor that he has to lean towards his screen to make out every detail. It hurts his dry eyes even more, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay. You’re still just as beautiful. You’d look nice no matter what you wear. Would you let him pick out clothes for you once you get here…? The thought makes his face flush. He’ll buy some in advance, just in case.

Thinking about your arrival makes him restless. He’s been busy enough combing through your social media to figure out what items you’d like in your room and what food you might enjoy. Now he has to consider clothing as well… It all has to be perfect, you deserve nothing less. The wishes filling his prayers are often about you these days. That you would be happy with what he did, that you would like his company, that you wouldn’t want to leave…

He’d expected a challenge in picking a single person from the masses. It was an order from his Saviour however and, for her, he’d take on any task. No matter what. He’s already pushing himself to his limits day by day, drowning himself in Elixir on her command, though each drink leaves him sicker than the one before. His body is simply too weak and foul. Regardless, his doubts had turned out to be unfounded. He’d stumbled upon you, after all: the perfect lost lamb to guide to Paradise. Someone who he could save.

There had been some unknown factor that drew him to you. You didn’t stand out in a crowd. In fact, it looked like you were trying to pull yourself away from the gazes of others, shoulders slumped and staring at your phone as you walked. You were indifferent to the world, and it returned those feelings. There, he saw a tiny part of himself. Ray couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Such a pull had to be fate, and nothing else. (Though there were many others that looked to be in similar spirits to you, you were the only one to hook him in such a way. He doesn’t know why. Ray doesn’t like things he doesn’t understand, but to keep feeling like this… He’ll bear it.) 

The two of you are destined to end up together in Paradise. He had been praying for guidance in his mission, and his wish brought him to you. His resolve only strengthened as he watched you struggle through your daily life, hitting low upon low.

Ray switches the camera. You’re a creature of habit, often stopping by the same places. Right now, you’re at the cafe you frequent. He has your entire routine jotted down; habits, hobbies, dislikes, and quirks that make you unique all compiled in a single document. He’s been fleshing it out over the course of multiple days, researching the things you enjoy. It makes his work easier.

You always take the same table, as long as it’s free. Thankfully, the quality is far better inside. He can finally see your new outfit clearly. Ray takes a screenshot, labeling it with the date and time before saving it to a folder named after you. It’s a good thing he’s been allowed to focus more on the tester at the moment, rather than collecting information on the RFA. He’s tried to get you off his mind, but to no avail.

One time, he had asked one of the Believers who was next on schedule for recruitment work to leave a rose on the seat you usually sat. They hadn’t questioned him or, at the very least, not in front of him. (“It’s essential to the mission I received from our Saviour,” he’d said.) You’d actually taken it with you upon finding it, carefully putting it in your bag after spinning it around in between two fingers. You smiled. He could’ve died happy at that moment.

Is it strange to yearn for someone he has never met, or spoken to? Ray likes to think he knows you through the way you present yourself online, and your body language in real life. Sometimes, he likes to pretend you aren’t texting your friends but, rather, responding to him. He’s been finding himself zoning out more and more often, forming a drawn out fantasy. 

Once everything is perfectly prepared, he’ll contact you and you’d come here, entirely trusting his word that everything would be safe. You’d help out with the project. You’d tell him you liked spending time with him more than the RFA. You’d let him guide you by the hand, let him gently push you in the right direction. You’d trust him and stay close with him, forever, that’s the  most important part. 

(He’s been bordering on treacherous thoughts. Deep down, Ray wants you to depend more on him than the Saviour herself. He would be the one who literally brought you to Paradise, rather than her. Couldn’t you go to him for advice…? He wants to look after you, to keep you satisfied and safe. He wants you to thank him.)

It hadn’t been his intention to scroll through hundreds of messages when he hacked your phone. He’d only done it to download the app when all preparations were complete. With all of that information at his fingertips, he couldn’t resist. With every message he read, you became more perfect in his eyes. It’d be difficult to hide that he’s aware of the most private thoughts you had shared online, but he’d have to make do. He’s gotten his hands on a couple of voice messages you left as well, and he’s been listening to them on loop. Not being allowed to contact you yet was already torturous enough. And that was before he knew how wonderful your voice sounded.

Besides your wardrobe, there’s another irregularity in your routine today. This one doesn’t make him perk up. An unfamiliar fact takes the seat opposite of you. 

He’s gathered bits and pieces on your friends, very basic information. In case you were in contact with someone dangerous, he wanted to alert you about it. But whoever this is, he doesn’t recognise them. A stranger? Ray hates unpredictable factors. He wishes the world were as programmable as the code he’s so efficient in, then, everything would run without issue. He wants you to tell him to go. He wants you to leave. You don’t.

You speak to them. You’re having fun, you’re smiling. His chest tightens up all on its own, and Ray doesn’t recognise the feeling. Shouldn’t he… Have been glad? He wants you to be carefree, to look at the world with bright eyes, but this… He sinks his teeth into his finger, sudden and hard, tasting blood. This plan can’t fail. Not for your sake, or his. If, after observing a specific target for so long, he would fail to capture them… He can’t imagine the Saviour’s wrath, which he’d be deserving of after such a great failure. The idea of you slipping through his fingers makes his breathing stuttery. 

Everything is fine. It is, it has to be. This isn’t an issue at all! They can’t grant you the happy ending, the comfort, that he could. You would realise that. He’d never spoken to you before though, and this hits him harder than ever now. You couldn’t possibly know about the salvation heading your way, the lengths he’s gone to orchestrate it. 

Ray’s fingers twitch on the keyboard as he types, and his report on your behaviour is filled with typos. He doesn’t want you to smile at  him like that, doesn’t want you to start growing enamoured with them. People in the outside world are cruel. You’re like them. Too weak and soft for your own good. You’d surely be trampled by the very person you’re now laughing with. He’s sure of it. He needs to get you out of there, and soon. It’s for your own good.

It takes serious effort to close the tab. To put his aching fingers on his keyboard. He’ll turn this pain into motivation to get you by his side as quickly as possible. Salvation is never painless.

[char-lotteral]

I didn't ask you this before cause you don't allow anonymous asks but it's the end of my watch so come on, join the fun and give me your Top 5 NH fic 🎉

oohhh reallyy...?? Im gonna embarrass myself here but im still new to the whole tumblr thing buttt how do you allow anonymous ask....?? HAHAHAHAH (im sorry im embarrassing)

Alsoo!! I just wanted to add that I am fairly new to the Naruto fandom because I just started watching the show this quarantine and hands down, best decision of my life. After finishing the series, I immediately knew that I needed more NH content (i blame The Last, I did not expect all those lovey dovey interactions lol I love them)

Salvage by @waterrolls - THIS. this. this. Gorgeous. Spectacular. Heart Wrenching. Show stopping. This was one of my first NH fics that I found on Wattpad. (@waterrolls would know how much I gushed over this haha) Dont get me wrong, there a dozen beautiful fics over there, however when I read this, I instantly knew that this was the type of fics that I wanted to read. So thank you thank youu @waterrolls for inspiring me to write and for paving me the way to all these beautiful fics on Ao3 <3

Put on your warpaint by borzbois- OKAY STORYTIME! So I downloaded this on my phone back when we went on an outing for an entire weekend. Long story short, we rented a private resthouse for my big fam, we went to the beach, drinking with cousins, swimming etcetc all that jizz. And guess what my introverted ass did for the entire outing??? Thats right, i was in my own lil introverted corner reading this amazing fic. So just do yourself a favor and read it. Like NOW.

It's No Secret by @dayseternal-blog - I'm not usually one for HS fics cuz my highschool was messy as hell lol but @dayseternal-blog 's story made me wish I spent my highschool better hahaha. I love how she captured the immaturity of youth so perfectly well. (I just got out of higshschool so everything still feels so fresh, and her story was ridiculously realistic haha) all those awkard flirting, vid chats, raging hormones lmaooo.

Nightdreams by @dayseternal-blog - i've read this tooo many times already hahahaha. A perfect balance of fluff, flirting, smut, action scenes, Naruto's emotional dilemma, clingy boyf Nardo, more smut. One of the best smut stories you will ever find on your interwebs. @dayseternal-blog 's smut writing skills *chef's kiss

Engaged or whatever by Devanhole- Another ridiculously realistic fic. It's like youre peering into your friend's phone or ig accs. I loveeee modern aus. The humor, the interactions, the dirty talk/shameless flirting and the SMUT. ( i swear im not a perv, but you can definitely see a pattern here lmao)

bonus fics because i cant get enough of NH~~

Girl in the elevator by thesefourwords- hnggggg cute. cute. cute CUTEEEE

White Lillies by @dayseternal-blog - must i even explain myself? yknow what, just read all of her stories. Just go DO IT

Serenity Prayer by @katarinahime - yesyesyesyes read it read it read it read it.

Secret Lovers by @quirrrky - NH blank period, everything that happened two years after the war. I dont care what anyone says, this is canon. CANON. Everything about this story is canon. I am the new Kishimoto. This is now an official Light Novel of the Naruto series.

21 days by @bunny-hoodlum - Naruto and Hinata need a hug hahaha. Two broken ssouls seeking solace within each other because the world is just that fucked up

Common Side Effects and Medicated by @katarinahime and @szajnie respectively- Naruto and Hinata needd another hug lol, I love that Naruto is trying soo hard to bring her back, and Hinata is trying just as hard to bring herself back :(( relationships can really be self-destructive if one of the parties can't reciprocate the type of energy your partner is giving. These stories opened my eyes into soo many different perspectives. The world really isnt all black and white, you can never really say who is right and wrong, especially with all the stories of everything and everyone

White Kunai by Magma Writes- This was awesome. The story gets you hooked. The fluff is on point. Canon divergent. I lovee stories like these. Like your peering into their shinobi world

Love is in the air by @vegebulsoup - two words; PILOT NARUTO. Flirting in amsterdam, the love story that I need in my real life. Andd the smut was soooo gratifying.

[lacheri]

What’s the last line you wrote in one of your WIPs?

“Moment of silence for Historia’s pussy,” Sasha clasped her hands together, mocking a prayer. “May she never stop getting the best of the best.”

THIS IS FROM VERMILLION PART TWO LMAOOO

[y0itsbri]

hi bri! 🎳 daily check in time! 🎳

i had a great day todayy! my friends and i got our routine testing done on campus and we noticed they were having a big sale on posters, prints, and tapestries!! i picked out four posters that i loved and i’m SO excited about them! (i’ll send in pictures tmr bc i haven’t had the energy to put them up on the wall yet lmfao)

after that, we went bowling!! i feel like i’m pretty decent and i actually managed to win one game out of the three we played?? i was very proud of myself 😌

my friends and i ate at in-n-out and i’ve just been chilling out at home since then!! i got a bit of work done, managed to draw a s4 ian, and i think i’m gonna turn in early tonight because i have to wake up at 6 am tmr 🤢

alsooo i’ve just been staring at your new art which is GORGEOUS btw. your style is so colorful and diverse and cooool, ughhhh. i love it ❤️

how was your day??

hi twisha!! ahh i’m so glad you had a good day ☀️ i’m honestly impressed that your school is doing routine testing! i’m used to things 100% based on the honesty policy and hopes & prayers 🙃 poster sale my beloved!! i cannot wait to see the ones you chose 😍 bowling!! 🎳 i haven’t been in so long but yesterday i was literally just talking to my roommate about how bad i am at it lmaooo. winning 1/3 is very impressive 😌 i’ve only had in-n-out once but now it reminds me of cg ian and mickey and ian’s early trips to LA <33 s4 ian art 🥰 also plot twist (kinda?) — my ‘new’ art is actually from last year but i just re-edited it for sara’s side blog 🥲 still my art tho!! so i very much appreciate your kind words!

my day was pretty eventful! so my mom is super into the vampire diaries and yesterday she finally bought some 'brother's bond' bourbon, which is the brand the actors created -- and i'm so happy for her :') she looked so cute cheesing in a picture next to the bottle <33

today i found a grocery store closer to my house today and that was exciting! truly! and it had everything i needed <3

then there was a power outage! for the whole neighborhood! so i ended up taking a shower in the dark and then did some reading by candlelight. felt like jo in little women with all the autumn 19th century vibes. it was cute seeing my neighbors with their flashlights and candles. everyone meeting outside in the Dad Stance with their hands on their hips trying to figure out what's wrong :') my roommate and i took advantage of the no electricity/internet and actually planted some mums in the front of our house!

enjoy these pictures of a cool leaf i found, a squirrel sprawled out on a branch, and my candlelit study vibes 🕯