#BABA is WORK and BUSY

[spark-circuit]

customers in the book department have reading comprehension challenge impossible

[macksartblock]

Got anymore dndads / homestuck? 👀

I do and I feel absolutely annoying about it

[funny-critter-blog]

What does Felice think about Poe and Baba?

Oooh! Good question!

I could see Felice and Baba being chill with each other, assuming Baba is even willing to interact with him lmao

As for Poe, I could definitely see Felice taking an interest in them!

I could see Poe modeling an outfit Felice designs for them

[lil-prince-who-did]

uhm long vent n tags

[ksen-noodles]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KSENYA 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 MUCH LOVE AND HUGS IM BITING YOU I LOVW YOU SO MUCH!! Take care of yourself!!!!

!!!!! BITES UUUUUU

TYSM!!!!!

[mchiti]

i cried 3 times today over the fact i'm probably not going to morocco this year either. it's 4 am. got my period

[diejager]

it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything

Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any. nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.

“- could provide you with-” 

“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.

You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says. 

A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”

“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”

When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.

And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you. 

He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind. 

“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[thecupidwitch]

Moon Magick

What Is A Moon Magick?

In many cultures around the world, practitioners have used the position of the moon, as well as the phases of the moon in their practice. Each phase of the moon is perfect for certain types of magickal workings. Not all witches depend on the particular moon phase. Many develop their own methods and techniques through trial and error to find out what works best. Those that do use the timing of the moon do so by choosing the moon phase most conducive to their magickal workings. This gives their magickal workings some extra lunar energy boost.

Correspondences:

Associated deities: Isis, Diana, Artemis, Morrigan, Holda, Nyx, Nephtys, Sedna, Lilith, baba, Yaga, Kali, Aphrodite, Freya, Ishtr, Hathor, Selena, Oshun, Perspephone, Flora, Cerridwen, Gaia, Epona, Yemanja, Rhiannon, Khonsu, Inanna, Hecate, ...ect

Animals: owls, rabbits, wolves, deer, cats, moths, bats, spiders, raccoons, opossum, cows, frogs, dogs, crabs, whippoorwill, panther

Crystals/Stones: moonstone, selenite, obsidian, silver, mother-of-pearl, aquamarine, gold beryl, topaz, emerald, clear quartz, coral, pearls

Moon Associations: Shadow work, Protection, Meditation, Journaling, Introspection, Strength , Love, Beauty, Manifesting, To attract new things, Purification, Letting go, celebrate your accomplishments, letting go, goal setting, banishing

Plants and Herbs: vervain, moonflower, jasmine, lemon balm, cabbage, camellia, camphor, chickweed, moonwort, gardenia, grape, lemon, passion flower, turnip, potato, pea, cucumber, pear, peach, willow, poppy, mountain ash, mango, wallflower, rowan, cactus

Moon Phases

New Moon

This is the crescent Moon when see the first peak of light, this is a time of newness, the beginning of relationships, the beginning of a new venture, the energy of this phase promotes new beginnings on any level. This is the time for change and for being open to, and looking for new opportunities, tilling the soil and planting seeds actually, and the seeds of ideas.

Waxing Moon

The Moon is beginning to gain strength as it grows in size, and goes from a new to a full Moon, this is a perfect time for growth and increasing things, growth within a relationship, financial growth, a time for learning and gaining knowledge.

If someone is thinking about pregnancy, this is a time of fertility, and it is an exceptional time for communication, in a business matter, or within a relationship. This is also an auspicious time for any legal matters, especially those where finances are concerned, if a healing spell, or healing of any type is needed, this is the time.

Waxing Gibbous

During the phase of the Gibbous Waxing Moon anything to do with increase is compatible; this is a good time for minor magic as the lunar energy is waning.

Full Moon

The full Moon is the most powerful phase, this is when the Moon is seen in its glorious fullness, this is a time of enlightenment and heightened psychic awareness. It is a time when everything comes together, it is a time of ideas, also a time of commitment, to a person, idea or project. It is also a time of family, and or friends coming together, any spell is well aspected during this phase of the Moon.

Waning Gibbous

The Waning Gibbous Moon  is suitable for rituals associated with letting go, and banishing,  if it is time to clear out the old and prepare for the new, this is the Moon phase to spell craft with.

Waning Moon

As the Moon decreases in size, it goes from full to dark, and this is a time of letting go, it is also a time of completion. If you have been wanting to change something in your life, this is the perfect time.

It is also a time of ending anything that doesn’t work in your life, this may be a habit, a relationship, or paying attention to issues  associated with legal matters, this is a time to pay attention to anything that you have been procrastinating about

Moon Water

Moon water is very similar to Sun water. But rather than being charged by the sun, it’s charged by the moon. Moon water can be useful for helping boost the energy of a spell, to help an intention grow, protect and to cleanse a space.

Instructions:

Get a glass bottle

Fill it with any type of water.

Leave the bottle with water out in the moonlight for a whole night.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

141 spying on you from your phone when you haven't played their game for a while( they miss you) 😂

God they're so nosey 😭

Wdym you're too busy with work/ college to play a game? Wdym your depression is so bad you're just mindlessly scrolling on TikTok, watching edits of them, instead of actually seeing them? Honey, come home, the kids miss you.

They see you lying in bed, hair messed up, pupils dilating at their renders doing the Baba trend. They see the compilations of their banter, their friendship, and their hands while reloading their guns.

They see the stress seep into your skin when your boss gives you endless tasks for the same pay, and it almost catches your eye when your phone screen flickers on in an attempt gain your attention, to no avail.

It's too bad you didn't notice the screen bending on your computer when you looked over your papers, a couple of fingers skeptically testing this new found ability. It's really too bad he had access to the files on your computer, including your address. It's really too bad you had been able to get your work done on time and didn't need to stay late.

Truly perplexing how the security cameras turned off.

"power surge" They'd say

And no one knows that the man walking into your building wasn't truly your fiancé, but they didn't need to.

He had been given a miracle, and he was heading their way.

[mochinomnoms]

For the Shrimper Chronicles: what about Azul realizing he’s in love with the shrimpy, and even realizing he probably has loved Jade and Floyd for a long time?

Doesn’t have to be a written thing, but I just think the idea of him having that realization would be cute—

Him realizing he doesn’t want to leave on his visits. Him realizing he misses Jade and Floyd. And he’s such an emotionally constipated dude, he probably tries to choke the idea out of existence. Maybe he gets a bit snippy or tries to bury himself in work and be distant. Though I think the twins would start to notice his change in behavior.

Maybe when he gets more comfortable, giving cute little courtship “test” trinkets to get a feel for it.

I wonder if there’d be a hierarchy to who he gives trinkets to first? Like, when courting an established poly, does he approach the shrimpy or the eels first? I feel like he’d probably spend a lot of time thinking on that.

TLDR: adorably overthinking octopus has a crisis on whether to/how to court a poly of his dear friends lol.

-👹🎏 (Devil Fish Anon?)

For me personally, I feel that the octopolycule would have had to already started with the twins and Azul during NRC in order for it to work. It feels like a more natural progression of their relationship from “business” associates to friends to lovers, which I can't really see happening when they get older. If you add in the relationship with Shrimpy, I feel like there's even less of a chance of it happening.

It's not impossible, though! I can see the polycule still happening later on if it was a case of the tweels and Azul knowing they liked each other deep down, but seeing Azul's childhood effected his sense of self-worth and ability to really get close to others, nothing ever happens.

When you come into the picture and get closer and closer to the three of them, that same issue happens again. Azul probably feels a bit of an ache in his heart when the three of you get together, but he'd never admit it.

The ache is worse because the three of you seem insistent on making him a cornerstone of your lives, he's at your home more than he is at his own! Forced to be a giant pillow for you three, as Floyd in particular giggles about how soft and squishy he is. Floyd has always been like that, though, even though Azul doesn't want to admit that the nuzzling is new.

Jade, despite his parents' insistence on taking more charge in the family business, still acts his right-hand man, often staying late with Azul at his restaurants. He's always ensuring Azul eats well…extraordinarily well…based on the complicated and filling meals he makes. Azul doesn't want to put more meaning into it, caecilians might court via food, but morays don't…mostly anyways.

You seem particularly insistent on involving him with your little ones' lives, much more than any uncle should be. He doesn't want to mistake the adoring look in your eye as he cradles one of the fries in his arms. The worst part is that he can't bring himself to argue against it when he starts being called 'Baba Zuzu', it's so cute, so sweet, and he just wants to pretend that the kids are his too when you curl into his side with the fries in his arms.

He is just ever so slightly emotionally stunted, and as smart as he is, he also is an Olympic Pro at mental gymnastics. My favorite way of the polycule becoming official is when Azul is laying in bed with all three of them, you in his arms, Floyd practically splayed over him and you on the left side, and Jade tangling his tail with Azul's tentacles as he rests his chin on the top of his head. And let's not forget the kids curled with each other on top of his chest.

It takes a moment, just as Azul is falling into a blissful sleep, cradled against his family, when the 'his' part of that sentence hits. His eyes snap open, as he realizes.

"Wait a second..."

[pahtoosh]

what's in a name

[image ID: a gif of steve and bucky smiling. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: 960 words

warnings: drama with a wasp, steve picks you up

a/n: shakespeare says names don't matter but in this case I say they do!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: the first time you called Bucky "Baba" and Steve "Dada"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ

It came out by accident. You found yourself dozing off in Bucky’s arms while watching a movie. The whole day, Steve and Bucky had been doting on you, making you feel safe enough to slip into littlespace. It was your first experience with slipping in front of them for a long period. You felt so light. The fuzziness of your mind had you lifting off your toes and into the arms of your protector. 

Steve had been called for a meeting, so it was just you and Bucky cuddling on the couch. 

Bucky shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He wasn’t planning on getting up, but you didn’t know that. You furrowed your brow and held onto him tighter. Your next words tumbled out of your mouth like marbles down a staircase. 

“Baba, don’t go.”

Your words were slurred. Your cheek was smushed against Bucky’s chest and your sleepiness stopped your mouth from properly forming the words. Bucky heard you perfectly, though. 

His heart skipped a beat. His mind raced. He didn’t want to wake you up though, so he just kissed the top of your head and soothed you by rubbing his hand over your back. 

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” Baba’s not going anywhere.

When you woke up from your nap, you remembered your little slip-up. Your face grew hot with embarrassment. 

“Hey there, sunshine.” Bucky cooed. “Are you waking up?”

You nodded and then slowly removed yourself from his embrace, still clinging to his shirt with one hand. 

“Do you wanna get up?”

You nodded, then shook your head and nodded again. 

“Is something wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

You shook your head.

“What’s got you all shy?”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I just wish I knew what was going on so I could help you,” Bucky said as he rubbed your back.

“I- I called you Baba.”

“That’s nothing to be shy about.”

You shook your head, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded.

“I liked it.”

You peeked out from your hiding place against his chest, allowing your soft eyes to ask a wordless question.

“I love takin’ care of you, honey. And if you love it too, enough to give me a special name, my only business is to keep going. I’ll show you how much I like being called your Baba.”

Ever so gently, you leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. You got comfortable in the crook of his neck before softly speaking. 

“Baba. My Baba.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

It was nearly dinner time when Steve returned. The three of you decided to hang out on the balcony while waiting for the food to be delivered. You sat on the outdoor rug, playing with toys while Steve and Bucky sat on the bench, chatting about their days and looking much like the love-struck Brooklyn boys from the past. Only now they had a precious little one whom their gaze often turned to. 

Your mind was utterly blank. Any train of thought drifted away as you lost yourself in the colorful blocks. You reached out to grab another piece when a large wasp landed in front of you. Startled, you pulled your hand back, accidentally knocking over the little tower you had worked so hard on. The wasp must’ve been startled too, as it began flying in frenzied circles by the fallen blocks. 

Your whimper caught the attention of the two super soldiers. Being the closest one to you, Steve leaped into action. He swiftly picked you up and carried you to the other side of the balcony. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. I’ve gotcha.” Steve did his best to soothe your trembling figure. He bounced you in his arms, holding you tight. 

You took in a shaky breath, trying to shake the fear from your thoughts. 

“Scared.”

“I know, honey. Let’s go inside, hm? Bucky’s picking up your toys for you.” Steve carried you through the sliding door, making sure no other little creatures were around as he pushed the glass aside.

He sat on the living room’s armchair with you. Steve ran his hands up and down your arms, making you feel safe. It was as if he was slowing down time just for you. You felt much calmer by the time Bucky came back inside. He gently set down your crate of toys before kneeling by the armchair. 

“You okay, pumpkin? I’m sorry that happened to ya.”

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. “I gave that little punk a good talking to. No more stingers are coming around here to scare my baby, ya hear? I’ll have Tony set some nets up to be sure of it.”

You giggled, loving how his accent came out with a twinge of sass. 

“It’s okay. Dada saved me.” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss on Steve’s cheek. The blonde super soldier’s heart swelled to three times its size.

He failed miserably at keeping a dopey smile off his face. He didn’t want to scare you off by making it a big deal, though. Play it cool, Steve. Play it cool.

“I-is that me?” He coughed to clear his throat, “Am I your Dada?” 

You nodded proudly and pointed at Bucky. “And he’s my Baba.” 

The next few moments were a blur. Steve pulled Bucky onto the chair, making his partner shout before chuckling in surprise. Both of them simultaneously decided that you needed to be peppered with kisses. You decided to get them back by holding one of their faces still while you returned the favor. The three of you were a giggling mess, squished on the too-small chair: the perfect start to your precious little family.

[lavendermin]

Hear me out...

Jing Yuan making Yanqing his wingman by making (forcing💀) Yanqing to give a bouquet of flowers to kindergarten teacher yn but Yanqing trashes the "From: Jing Yuan to: Yn" (or smth idk) and gives it to reader.

Yanqing is just like "for you😊"

So when reader receives it she praises Yanqing not Jing Yuan (plus points if he gives it at the end of the class and Jing Yuan was picking him up, hearing reader praise Yanqing for the flower HE bought for reader I'm sobbbinggg)

Anyways how are you president of Jing Yuan nation

Dawn of a new Monday in Jing Yuan nation and we are ready to roll 💗 Anon this is such a cute concept. I love that we all want to make jing yuan subtly miserable for this au

Jing Yuan thinks he’s so clever with the bouquet of flowers—the freshest of blooms from a long time contact that has worked with his company for events. It’s not overtly huge and he also doesn’t want to be too straightforward by giving it to you himself. Even Yanqing caught on.

“Why do you need flowers in the morning?” Yanqing asks as they enter the flower shop. Used to routine, he can tell it’s a little earlier than usual for this stop before school.

“We’re picking up some flowers for your teacher. She deserves a gift. You like her, yes?”

Yanqing nods, eyes sparkling. He tries to reach up for the bouquet, tiny hands tugging his father’s jacket.

“Can I give them to teacher?” He asks with pleading eyes.

Why not, Jing Yuan thinks. He ruffles his hair and agrees, leaving Yanqing to carry the bouquet that’s almost as long as he is.

Once he’s dropped off at school, Jing Yuan feels his chest blooming with a sense of accomplishment. In the card sitting among the flowers he has included a sweet invitation for coffee with him on a weekend of your choice. Surely by the end of the day he should hear your response if not sooner.

The day rolls by with no word from you. Perhaps you’re shy. Or busy with a hands-on task with the kindergartners. Wasn’t finger painting today? No matter, he’ll ask Yanqing once he picks him up in an hour.

—

As soon as Yanqing huddled into the classroom he was giddy to be able to give you the bouquet on behalf of his father. Ah, and there you were at your desk tidying up some graded assignments and looking through the cabinets for a few other supplies.

“Yanqing!” One of his classmates popped up in front of him, tugging his jacket. “Come look at the toy sword Yunli brought for recess!”

On second thought, that could wait. He immediately shoved all his things into his assigned cubby and dashed off to see the sword where a little group was huddled around.

He could give them later anyway.

And it’s a pleasant little surprise when class is over and the kids start filing out to their waiting parents that Yanqing hobbles over to you with a comically large (compared to his stature) arrangement of flowers.

“For you,” Yanqing beams with a cheerful smile.

You think you could cry. He really is a sweet little kid. (This is fueling your baby fever terribly) And he’s already dashing out the door before you can get more than a thank you out.

—

“Did you give your teacher the flowers?” Jing Yuan asks with an inward smile as Yanqing ran over to hug him after school. He nods proudly.

“She put them on her desk and smiled a lot. And she said thank you.”

Jing Yuan listens to Yanqing tell of what happened during class—the cool toy sword, finger painting (just as he thought), and the fruit shaped gummies they got as a prize for snack time (oh dear, he kept the strawberry ones in his pocket).

“Baba, you forgot this with your flowers.” Yanqing hands him a little card as he’s buckled into his car seat.

…The card that was supposed to be tied to the flowers.

“Ah, thanks kiddo,” he smiles, a little confused (maybe a little disappointed but he won’t show it). “What happened to the ribbon?”

“Oh, Huohuo lost her hair bow on the playground and started crying so I gave her the ribbon. She was really sad but the ribbon made her stop crying.”

He can’t be upset. Not when Yanqing is beaming about helping his little classmates. He’ll just have to ask you some other time.

Ding.

1:46PM [Yanqing’s Hot Teacher] Thank you for the flowers :) I’d like to return the favor for something so kind.

His heart misses a few beats seeing your incoming text. And Yanqing is whining in the car seat because why isn’t baba driving the car yet? Hello?

Jing Yuan snaps a picture of the card that was supposed to be with the bouquet and sends it to you.

1:49PM [Jing Yuan] sent an attachment.

1:49PM [Jing Yuan] I may have an idea.

[angelbaby-fics]

Attatched At The Hip

Word Count: 660

A/N: ahh this was just some rambly thoughts about bucky that kinda turned into a fic? i don't love how i ended it so maybe i'll revisit this in a little bit when my computer is fixed but i couldn't resist posting it already because i just. guys i love bucky so much and i just wanna tlk about him all the time. lol. so yeah this is just some bucky fluff that i hope you guys enjoy 💕

That’s what Steve always teased that you and Bucky were, attached at the hip. If you could spend the rest of your life anywhere in the whole world, it would be cradled in Bucky’s left arm, held safely and firmly against his side. It wasn’t a matter of favoritism, you loved your daddy just as dearly as your Baba, and you were always eager and excited for hugs and kisses from the great Captain America. You and Bucky had a deep bond just between the two of you, one that Steve respected and understood, and being constantly held was mutually beneficial for that bond: you were always able to be soothed and cared for whenever your heart desired it, and Bucky was persistently reminded that he was loved, safe, and doing good by you. 

Plus, it helped that his metal arm never, ever got tired. 

That’s how you found yourself now, cradled into Bucky’s side and perched upon his muscular thigh in the Avengers compound briefing room. Usually when a meeting was called, you’d be left with whichever caregiver didn’t have to attend that day, or you got to go to daycare if both were recruited that day. This time, however, you were still fast asleep on Bucky’s chest where you’d decided to take your nap that day when he got the meeting alert. Steve was off that day and offered to take care of you while Bucky was busy, but the thought of rousing you from your most peaceful state made both their hearts ache, so along you came. 

Coos of adoration had echoed through the meeting room when Bucky entered with you, but he politely shushed his coworkers. The goal was to keep you asleep for as much of the meeting as possible, knowing that as soon as you woke up you’d want a bottle, and that waking up in a strange room would probably send you into a tantrum anyways. Fortunately, with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he was able to sit in the far back of the room with you and still hear everything being said. 

The change in location from the couch all the way to the briefing room only caused you to stir the tiniest bit, Bucky’s even breaths keeping you rooted in your slumber as the meeting commenced. At one point, Thor let out a raucous laugh, and you seemed to react in your sleep, flexing your fingers at the sound of your friend, but not even the excitement at the thought of playtime could outweigh the comfort you felt in Bucky’s arms. He ran his right hand across your back, soothing you back into dreamland for the rest of the meeting, and you only finally awoke as everybody was saying their goodbyes and Bucky stood up to leave.

Maybe it was because you’d already napped for over two hours, maybe it was the shift of energy in the room as all the Avengers were now free to shake off work mode and socialize with each other. You lifted your heavy head from Bucky’s shoulder and blearily looked around, half open eyes taking in the fact that you were not at home and instead in an area of the compound you rarely had reason to visit. Seeing all your Avenger friends together in this location, you put two and two together, grabbing tightly onto Bucky’s shirt as you looked up at him with worry. 

“Baba gotta go to a meeting now?” You asked, still fragile from your nap and not wanting to give up the comfort of your caretaker’s embrace. But Bucky only chuckled. 

“Doll, I already went to the meeting, you slept through it!”

“I did?” You questioned with genuine surprise, in disbelief that you’d done such a thing.

“Sure did, angel. Did you have a good nap?” “Uh huh!” You nodded. “I had a dream… I was playin’ wif Thor.” 

You smiled to yourself, recalling the way you’d heard him laugh even in your slumber. 

[that-sunny-pup]

Hello! I'm the mod, you can call me Mod Duck! Please respect that this blog is both as canon as I can be, but mostly headcanons, so some stuff might not be accurate or in character! I only had a couple scenes to work off of, so cut me some slack here 🙏

DogDay is 14 years old, and big DogDay/Solar is like. 31

𖤓 WARNINGS:

This blog may contain cursing and heavy topics such as mental breakdowns, Violence, panic attacks, and stuff simular to that. Mod is a Minor, so sexual topics will be kept to a minimum 🫵

𖤓 Role-playing and symbols:

"This is the regular, small DogDay! Hiya friends!!!"

"And this is the big DogDay, AKA Solar: They took my fuckin legs.."

[This is actions and/or thoughts!]

and this is how I'll speak most of the time! sometimes the tags tho

𖤓 other SC blogs:

@the-cool-chicken

@the-crafty-unicorn

@bubba-bubbaphant

@picky-piggy

@hoppyhopscotch1

@acat-foryournap

@bobbybearhugs-blog

@bunny-go-hop-hop

@dogday-shines-bright

@bearhugs-from-bobby

@the-cat-that-naps

@bubbabubbaphant-blog

@baba-chops-emo-sheep

@simon-the-dragon

@rabie-baby-bat

GO FOLLOW THEM, THEY'RE ALL WONDERFUL!!! 🫵

Plus my other blog: @allister-the-procrastigator

𖤓 ART:

[all drawn by me!]

current status: REVIVING!! very soon

headcanons under the cut:

Dogday has Autism and ADHD!

Because of his big ol ears, he has bad sensory issues with specific sounds, especially since he can hear so well. Because of that, he carries around headphones with him everywhere, so if you see him sitting somewhere with them on, he is overwhelmed, do not bother him!!

He glows in the dark like a nightlight, but his pendant glows constantly.

When he stims, he does so with tail wagging, hand flapping, and leg stomps/shakes.

he howls at the sun instead of the moon!

He is TERRIFIED of sunflowers. they stare back, he swears they do.

he finds pop rock candy very fascinating! it's his favorite candy.

he likes basking in the sun! and though he may be busy with something almost all the time, he always has an eye out, and is always keeping his friends safe, no matter what!

He 100% puts others before himself, no doubt.

he also has bad memory. not HORRIFICALLY bad, but its not very good either.

his body temperature is warmer than everybody elses, meaning he overheats easily. In contrast to what most would think, he likes cold weather more than summer weather.

[toomuchracket]

you're the only thing that's going on in my mind (d word matty x reader smut)

cocky mean d word matty post-show on glasgow night 1 because i left that gig Fucked Up (see below pic that i took). canon, so girly is pregnant at this point. he goes a bit simpy at the end, but... fork found in kitchen. VERY slutty. enjoy! <3

“what the fuck are you two doing here?” matty's voice - loud, so as to be heard over the people outro - and face are aghast as he exits b stage to find you and mrs mac, the two of you standing in front of the security line at the back. “couldn't believe my eyes when i saw you lurking from up there.”

“well, we do work here,” comes the reply from beside you. 

you laugh, leaning back to stretch slightly before cradling your bump. “and the baby wanted to be up close and personal for the final song. she’s her father's daughter, after all.”

“jesus christ,” matty shakes his head, but the little smile on his face is unmissable. he steps close to you so ross and adam can get out, pressing a quick kiss to the bump before pulling you into his bare chest. “wasn't just the baba that wanted to see me there, though, was it?”

“hmm?” you look up at your boyfriend, a smirk on his pretty face.

“don't act clueless, sweetheart,” matty slings an arm around your shoulders as you both start walking back to the main stage, leaning to speak in your ear. “saw the way you were looking at me the whole time. and the way you crossed your legs when i opened my shirt - that was for you, by the way. wanted to see how you'd react.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “was it… a good reaction?”

matty laughs, not unkindly, and kisses your cheek. “oh, baby, you're such a fucking sub,” he coos in your ear. “of course it was a good reaction; the sexiest woman in the world’s all turned on and needy for me. s'hot as fuck.”

“you're hot as fuck.”

“too fucking right,” your boyfriend holds out his free hand and brushes it against some of the waiting palms of the crowd, still leaning in to talk to you. “look at them, how excited they are, how happy. look what i fucking did to them, did for them. me.”

“no one else,” you all but breathe, shuffling even closer to him. “just you.”

matty hums, leading you through behind the stage and pulling you into a darkened alcove. his lips are on yours almost immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth and making you whine. “you're fucking desperate for me, aren't you, princess?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you whimper against him. “want you to fuck me.”

matty groans into your mouth, pulling back to hold your jaw. he smirks. “nah.”

you blanch. “what?”

“you don't understand? fuck's sake,” matty rolls his eyes. “no. i don't want to fuck you right now.”

“but…” you feel your lip trembling.

“good girls don’t say but, do they?”

you blink, looking sheepishly at the ground. “no, daddy. m'sorry.”

“that's better,” matty strokes your cheek. “now, instead of us running off because you're needy, i want us to go and celebrate with everyone, because i think i deserve to be celebrated - you agree, don’t you?”

you nod.

“good girl,” matty smiles, a smile that widens when you perk up at the praise. “if you're good enough at the afterparty, then i'll fuck you. understand?”

you nod again.

“words, princess.”

“yes, daddy. i understand.”

matty kisses you again. “let's go, then, gorgeous.”

and thus begins the most tedious ninety minutes of your life.

it wouldn't actually be a bad night if you weren't so worked up, you think - everyone's in good spirits, pleased with how well the show went, and the room is soundtracked by a cacophony of laughs and excited tones. you try your best to get involved in the conversations with your friends, all of them interjecting with their favourite moments of the show, but your focus is so elsewhere that you end up just sitting back and nursing your soda and lime.

elsewhere being your boyfriend, working his way around the conversations in the room and soaking up the compliments like a cat in a patch of sunlight. he's too busy preening to have made a dent in his pint, but he's as animated as he is when he's tipsy; there's a permanent smirk etched on his face as he incessantly talks, and the combination of that and his almost-unbuttoned shirt has you clenching. you don't want to look away from him at all, but god knows what else might happen if he catches you staring at him so openly, so lustfully, teeth biting your straw to beyond the point of use just to stay sane. best to keep your head down every time he turns his in your direction.

it shoots straight up when he speaks from right beside you, though, squatting to take your hand and talk to you. “fancy some air, darling?”

finally.

“yes please,” you reply, biting your tongue to stop yourself grinning too widely.

matty knows how excited you are, though. as soon as you get into the empty hallway, he pulls you in for a sweet hug, but the relief you feel from him touching you is somewhat overshadowed by the way he laughs in your ear.

“what is it?” you lean back just enough to look at him, your brow furrowed.

“you're just so fucking needy,” matty shakes his head, still giggling. “you thought i was getting you alone so we could get each other off, didn't you?”

“i- no.”

“well, good. because that's not what's happening.”

you feel your shoulders slump slightly. “okay.”

“i'll tell you why, but i need to ask you something serious first,” one of his hands caresses the bump. “you're not tired, are you? or sore at all?”

“no, i'm alright.”

matty tuts. “so why are you sitting in there moping, princess?”

your jaw drops. “i am not fucking moping.”

“less of the backchat,” your boyfriend says sternly. “and yes, you are, sitting there looking at the floor and not talking to anybody. told you to be good, remember?”

“i am being good!”

“what did i just say, princess?” matty holds your jaw; not painfully, but firmly enough that you can't look away from him. he looks fuming. “keep answering back like that, and you won't cum for a week. you're already on thin fucking ice as it is, after the way you acted in there. sitting silently just waiting for me to stop celebrating my night so i can fuck you - what a brat you are. a needy little brat.”

you'd be lying if you said his words didn't send a burst of heat straight between your legs. but still, you're curious as to where matty's newfound dominance has come from. “why are you being so mean to me tonight?”

he smirks. “because, darling, you asked me to. remember?”

oh, fuck. a memory crosses your mind, hazy with post-sex fog, matty's jaw dropping when you shyly say you wouldn't mind him being meaner in bed with you, whenever he felt up to it. “ah…”

“you do remember!,” matty looks satisfied. “that's good, because i'm feeling very selfish tonight. in the mood to be… worshipped, i'd say. have someone else do all the work. how's that sound, princess?”

“so good,” you whine. and it does - you'd do anything to touch him right now. “i'll do it now, daddy, if s’what you want.”

“bet you fucking would, gorgeous,” matty's hands trail down your body, across the bump, and back up over your tits. “so desperate for daddy to fill you up again, even though i've already done it. never enough for you, is it?”

you shake your head. “never. need you all the time.”

“greedy girl,” matty grins. “but it's actually hot that you need me so much. just wish you were better behaved about it.”

you nod. “i will be, daddy, promise.”

“prove it,” his thumb pulls your lower lip down. “take what i give you, and you'll get what you want if you keep being good while i finish my pint, yeah?”

“yes, daddy.”

“there's my girl,” matty smiles, and you glow. “now - open.”

you oblige, dropping your jaw so your boyfriend can spit into your open mouth; he opens his to tell you to swallow, but you've already done it before he takes a breath to speak. he groans, rubbing his thumb over your lips and smiling when you suck the tip. “that's more like it. good.”

“thank you, daddy.”

“you're welcome, princess,” matty presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you into a hug and murmuring in your ear. “colours still apply tonight, sweetheart, as always - you want to stop at any point, just say the word. you're alright now, though, aren't you?”

“yeah. all green here,” you whisper into matty's ear in return. “i love you.”

“i love you, too,” a kiss to your cheek, and matty leans back. the smirk has reappeared on his pretty face. “m'excited to fucking ruin you later.”

“please.”

your boyfriend kisses you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it to release. “half an hour. best behaviour, you hear me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “i hear you, daddy.”

“alright. let's go back in, then.”

matty takes your hand and leads you back into the room of your friends, helping you to get comfy on one of the sofas before slotting in beside you. he's as self-assured as he was earlier, but your attraction to that is more manageable now that he's actually touching you - a hand on your thigh, lazily drawing patterns into your trouser leg - and you know you only have to endure another thirty minutes until he takes you back to the hotel.

as it turns out, that time flies by, so much so that you're almost surprised by matty leaning in to tell you it's time to go. you nod, and he kisses your head before standing and helping you up.

“is that the two of you on your way?” mrs mac jumps up to hug you, patting the bump affectionately. “take it easy tonight, love. s'been a long day.”

“yeah, i will,” you smile. liar.

“take care of her, healy.”

“oh, i will,” matty smiles. not a lie. “night, everyone.”

after the chorus of well done agains and goodbyes dies down, matty leads you to the waiting car. the journey back is quick, and quiet, the only sounds the humming of the engine and the noises from the late-night glasgow revellers you pass. in fact, aside from thanking the driver, matty's silent the whole time until you get into the room; only once the door closes behind you does he speak, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he takes your coat from you. “colour?”

“green.”

“good. in that case - clothes off, on the bed, legs open. now. and don't even think about touching yourself.”

you're actually thankful of the order, because you're so wet that your underwear is starting to become uncomfortable. with a “yes, daddy” and a sloppy kiss, you practically sprint to the bedroom of the suite, kicking off your trainers as soon as you open the door and pulling down your jumpsuit so quickly you wouldn't be surprised if you ripped it. you chuck it onto the chair in the corner of the room, and your lingerie follows suit before you climb onto the bed as instructed, waiting as patiently as possible for matty.

he wanders in a couple of minutes later, can of coke in hand, and leans against the doorframe. the shirt he was wearing has disappeared, and you can't quite decide if you'd rather look at his chest or his smirking face. “can see how fucking wet you are from here, princess. jesus,” matty says, wandering over to you and looking hungrily at your soaked cunt. without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto it; you yelp, and feel another gush to your core. matty giggles and repeats the motion, and the same thing happens. “you little slut, liking when i slap your pussy. dirty, dirty girl.”

slightly sickeningly, you don't think you've ever been so turned on in your life. all you can do is whimper as your boyfriend continues to slap your cunt, the noises turning to cries whenever he makes contact with your clit, and then to little mewls as he drags his fingers up and down your slit with a “so messy, princess, i think we need to clean you up.”

sighing with relief, you spread your legs even wider so that matty can comfortably get his head between them - you're surprised (and disappointed), then, when he holds a hand out and says “get up, and follow me”. but you oblige, of course, like the good girl you know you are despite what matty says and thinks. when he nudges you into the shower and takes the rest of his clothes off, you perk up slightly, and even more so when he removes the showerhead from the wall and kneels. “spread your pussy for me.”

fuck.

you oblige, but you must look terrified, because matty's eyes fill with concern. he strokes your thigh comfortingly. “colour, sweetheart?”

taking a deep breath, you reply in a shaky voice. “green.”

he doesn't seem convinced. “you're sure?”

“yeah. honest.”

“well, alright,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “hold onto me if you need, yeah?”

“okay, daddy. thank you.”

“of course,” matty sits back on his knees. his face changes again. “now… let me clean my dirty girl up.”

aiming the showerhead at the floor, he reaches up to turn the water on, testing it with his free hand and adjusting the temperature dial accordingly. suddenly, with no warning, warm streams of water hit your clit; your jaw drops, and it takes everything in you to stop your legs doing the same. “oh my god.”

“tell me how it feels.”

“it's - shit - so fucking good, daddy,” you pant, eyes rolling back with pleasure, jaw shaking slightly. matty turns the water pressure up a notch, and you gasp. “fuck!”

matty hums. “d'you wanna cum?”

“yeah.”

“well, too bad,” all of a sudden, the water stops. you wail at the loss of stimulation on your clit, and matty scoffs. “what are you being like that for? thought you wanted me to fill you up again. you're telling me you don't want to cum on my dick?”

your legs nearly give out. “no, i do,” you whimper. “please, daddy, need you inside me.”

“hmm,” matty tilts his head, squinting at you. he sighs. “alright. you're doing all the work, mind you,” he stands and takes your hand again, before leading you to stand in front of the sink. “come on, princess. hands on the counter - wanna look at myself while you get me off.”

it's infuriating how hot you find your boyfriend’s arrogance - or, it would be, if you could think about anything other than the feeling of him brushing up against your waiting cunt. the desire spilling out of you isn’t helped in the slightest by the way matty’s eyes are locked onto his own reflection, as he moves and flexes and runs his hands through his hair and across his face.

god, he's fucking gorgeous.

and he knows it. “fucking look at me,” matty says - to nobody in particular, given that you're both already staring at his reflection. “no fucking wonder the crowd reacted the way they did tonight,” he laughs, tilting his head and opening his mouth slightly. “could've had any one of them, i reckon. bet everyone wished they could have me, just like this.”

envy draws your cheeks in. the thought of matty fucking someone else in your place sends a bolt of rage into your stomach, firing up your throat and shooting from your lips as a snarl. good girl be damned. “well, they fucking can't.”

matty meets your eyes in the mirror and smirks. “no?”

“no,” you grip the counter so hard your knuckles go white. “you're mine. besides, none of them could fucking take you like i do.”

he laughs. “oh, you're being a bitch. i like it.”

“just being honest, daddy.”

“well, show me how you take it, then,” with one hand, matty lines himself up with your hole; the other weaves itself into your hair, forcing you to keep looking in the mirror. “give me all you've got, you fucking bitch.”

you smile, saccharine. “yes, daddy,” slowly straightening your arms, you moan in harmony with your boyfriend as he fills you up. “fuck.” 

once you've taken a second to get used to the feeling of matty inside you, you bend your arms and pull yourself almost completely off him, before slamming back with no warning and watching in satisfaction as matty's jaw drops. “shit, princess,” he groans, steadying himself against the wall with his free hand as you repeat the movement, over and over. “yeah, you're fucking right - only you, my girl, only you can take me so fucking well. perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking girl.”

you beam at the praise - matty notices, and laughs. “you like it when i tell you how good you are at taking my dick? little slut. but it's true. fucking built for this, weren't you? for me to fuck you and fill you up? you must be, to be so fucking greedy - already knocked you up and you still want my cum. fucking desperate,” he pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, bringing his other hand to your hip to use as leverage to fuck you even faster than you were already moving. “but i fucking love it. i fucking love you.”

“love you so much,” you whine, throwing an arm back and hooking it around matty's neck. “fuck, look at you. so fucking hot.”

“and all yours,” matty whispers in your ear, making you smile. his lips drop to your neck as he speeds up his thrusts, but his eyes never leave your reflection. he groans. “look at you, princess, my beautiful girl. all full of me. and those fucking tits - love them always, but i'm gonna fuckin miss the way they look right now when you're not pregnant anymore.”

“easy fix,” you giggle. “you'll just have to knock me up again.”

even if matty's hips didn't speed up impossibly more at your words, the noise he makes in response is almost enough to get you off. “i'll fucking do it, princess, if that's what you want. i'd do anything for you.”

“make me cum?”

“if you say the magic word.”

“please, daddy?”

he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and his fingers onto your clit; you moan as soon as they make contact, which only spurs matty on. “do it, then, princess. cum all over my fucking cock.”

your body reacts immediately to his command - all your muscles tighten and release, pleasure flowing through your nervous system and forcing a scream from your throat. matty groans as you grab hold of the counter again, the new angle letting him grab your hips and fuck recklessly into you, the syncopated rhythm a sure sign of his own imminent orgasm. “oh, fuck,” he whines, pulsing heat deep into your cunt and continuing to thrust into you. “fucking take it, princess, take it like the good little cumslut you are,” he stills inside you, still shaking from the aftershocks, resting his head on your shoulder. 

after a minute of mutual heavy breathing, matty looks up, meeting your eyes and beaming at you in the mirror. “i'm fucking knackered. worth it, though.”

“mmm,” you lean on your elbow. “thank you for indulging me, baby.”

“of course,” matty kisses your shoulder. “and you're unbelievably sexy when you're possessive, by the way. i'm getting turned on just thinking about it.”

you put your head in your hands. “oh my god, no, i cannot go for another round right now. i love you, but i need to go to sleep.”

“no, i agree, don’t worry,” your boyfriend laughs. “can you reach the tap, sweetheart?”

“yeah.”

“run that blue washcloth under the water and chuck us it, then, please?” matty inches out of you carefully, taking the flannel from you with a kiss and kneeling behind you with a moan. “christ, i'll never get over this sight.”

you huff out a laugh, hissing when matty gently wipes the flannel over your core with an “i know, baby, i'm sorry”; you perk up a bit when he stands and helps you straighten up, cradling the bump from behind you. “i love you, darling,” he kisses you. “both my darlings, actually. you feeling alright?”

“just sleepy. s'been a long day,” you snuggle into him. “proud of you. grateful for you. love you.”

“back at you, sweetheart.”

[royalsunshinehotel]

Eating (Vampire!Kid x F!Reader, 18+)

Author’s Note: Thank you for your patience. I am back. RIP to that one fic I wrote in 2020 and LOST in the depths of my laptop, you had fisting and dubcon and whatnot. This doesn’t have that, but is a lot better written. YN has very American dialogue here. Editing by @youlooklike-clarabow

It wasn’t right to call this feeling bloodlust. Was it freedom? 

He’d just beaten a mortal to death with a heeled shoe, and, in the morning, the people would think that Baba Shakti had been mauled to death by a tiger. 

He’d drained that man of his life force, the evidence soaked Kid so thoroughly, he felt it down to his socks with each step he took. 

Now, all he wanted was you. 

From the first day he’d met you, he’d allowed you to become a constant. He met Lucky first, your little brother, and Lucky had brought him right to you. 

What a gift that Lucky had given so freely, he’d have to thank the boy when he saw him next. 

He knows exactly where you are too. 

You’re stumbling home after a harrowing shift at the bar. It’s Diwali, so of course your work was a little…intense. 

You couldn’t fault the people for enjoying the holiday, but Christ that was a lot of work. 

And here he was again! 

“Funny how that all works,” you think.

He’s playing it off as if he wasn’t waiting up for you, on the steps of your apartment building. 

Maybe it was that half-drink you’d had earlier, maybe it was that costume he’s wearing, a black suit, covered in blood. 

The blood had dried, but the tears hadn’t. 

Maybe it was that half-drink you’d had earlier, but you could hardly look at him, only holding out your hand to take his arm, tightly, up to your place. 

On a good day, it’s hard to look at him - and truly see him - fully. It was like staring into the sun. Here, in the dark, maybe you’d scrape by. He’s vibrant, even now 

His socks were making a squishing sound with each step. 

You unlock your door, and deposit him to lean against a counter, and calmly walk to your kitchenette for some towels, wetting them under your faucet. 

It wasn’t your business. 

Maybe he’d just been at Tiger’s, Maybe it had been another fight. You’d helped him after those before…

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “just wait.” He droops a little, hopefully relaxing. You’d like him to be comfortable here, with you. 

You take a long step and pull out a stray garbage bag from a drawer, waving it around to open in, and gesturing to him. 

It was safe to say the suit he wore was ruined. And if that blood was real, and didn’t belong to him, it could open up a whole world of trouble. 

Your mind races with a thousand different possibilities and outcomes, what you were liable for, what charges he could be brought up on. 

He only stares at you with an expression you can’t place, and unbuttons his shirt. 

And your thought process evaporates. 

When Lucky had helped him to your apartment after fights at Tiger’s Temple, you’d seen his bare chest before. He was a tall man, and thin to match. His chest was broad, smooth, as ever, but you couldn’t see his ribs anymore. 

When he’d come to you for help before, he’d been something of a stray dog, wandering in the streets, begging for any scrap one could spare. 

And you had fed him before, but you wouldn’t need to now. 

You knew from your little brother that Kid hadn’t been around. Rumors swirled in your little community, but nothing was concrete. He’d been gone, out of town. Eating. 

Blood dried on the breathtaking torso of someone who’d been eating. 

A little spark of jealousy starts to burn in the front of your skull. 

“Had a good vacation?”” You scoff at him. His large brown eyes darken, only slightly. He says nothing. 

Heat rushes to your face as he steps forward, dropping his shirt into the empty garbage bag. 

You want him close, as usual. 

He never takes a half-step more, just to kiss you, be near you. It doesn’t feel as cold as it usually does. It feels like he’s playing with you. 

Kid smiles a little, to himself, taking the wet towel off the side of the sink, running it down his reddened neck. 

You frown. He’ll have to scrub. 

You grab another towel, and begin to do just that. 

He doesn’t make a sound as you dampen your towel under the sink  and step around towards his broad back. 

“This isn't gonna work. You’ll have to shower.” Your voice sounds a little hoarse. It had to be some kind of condition, or spell he’d fallen under. 

He seemed flushed, a little more alive. 

When you first met him, you noticed large, glossy brown eyes first, but seeing the rest of him makes the awareness of being close to him all the  worse, even standing behind his back. 

His thick,curly hair reached out, practically begging someone to put their hands in it. The skin of his shoulders is always warm, just like the rest of him. 

You’d sat next to him, on your couch in your apartment. Being aware of his body heat was obvious, but it felt heightened tonight. Did he run warm? Or did you just notice it because it’s him? 

You knew the answer, but the air was so thick in your room, it seemed to soften any hard thought you were trying to wrap your head around. 

The rag in your hand was spent, so you threw it into the trash bag, and you tap his spine, 

“Go shower.” You command, and he obeys you, removing his shoes and putting them in the bag after. 

He looks around, spell broken, only to feel lightly proud that he’d only left a thumbprint on your counter. 

In the shower, he wishes you were still next to him still, in the water . . . helping. You were so eager to be kind, why? Especially to the likes of him. 

He watches the faint traces of red and pink rinse from his skin, to circle the drain. 

It was all he could do not to step out of the shower and put his face in your neck. 

He’d never indulged so freely in someone’s blood before, and he’d never imagined that his first real taste would be from the man who ruined everything, and harmed so many. 

And he’d come right to you, thinking he’d been sated, but he just wanted more. 

He’d never hurt you, he’d die before he hurt you. 

Kid lets some water fall into his mouth, and spits it out between his feet. 

There had been a time, when he was younger, where he’d known a street performer who’d played a cello. It was a large, cumbersome instrument, but the performer had made it seem light, elegant. 

The vibration of the strings had stayed with him, humming inside his head whenever he’d gotten hungry. 

And now, wet, in the shower, he felt absolutely starved. 

No. Get a grip. 

He needed to pick something else to focus on, not the tantalizing hymn coming from your throat. 

Your apartment! 

He’d been in your apartment before, of course, but he felt he’d never gotten the chance to appreciate it. 

Your bathroom was old, but clean. Faded white tile, and one singular bottle of shampoo and conditioner on the counter in front of a small, circular mirror. 

He already knew that you had made a friend who sold soap to tourists, he recognized the cut of the bar in a little dish to the side. 

He shouldn’t snoop. 

One lone towel is hanging by the shower, and he takes it, dressing in large gray sweats that you’d picked for him. 

He doesn't like that you have men’s sweats, but he doesn’t have a right to not like it, when he benefits from it. 

He gasps a little as he opens the door back to the rest of your studio. 

Warm. 

When he first knocked on your door, he hadn’t noticed the few candles you’d had burning. He didn’t realize you’d be perched on the armrest of your old couch. He’d helped you carry it in, hadn’t he? He thought the color of it suited you, just as he does now. 

“How was your shower?” You ask, voice soft. You don’t betray the fact that your mouth is watering. 

He’d showered, obviously, but the steam coming off his skin didn’t help the knot of feelings, tightening in your stomach. 

Ugh, fucking feelings. They’d never done anything but betrayed you, why would this time be any different ? 

“Um…good.” He replies, just as soft, taking long, even strides to meet you on the couch, and sit on the other side. 

There’s a golden cast of light on your skin, and he knows he has some fundamental truths he needs to face. 

The first being, that he had died with his Mother that night, and came back as well…this. Whatever it was. 

The second was, he’d just torn the nation's religious leader limb from limb. It would look like a wild animal, but if that stupid penthouse had cameras, they’d know it was him. 

The last was, he desperately wanted you. Whatever you’d be willing to give, he’d devour greedily. It was time to do something about it. 

“You haven’t asked me what happened.” He states, almost groaning as he felt the couch lean from your weight. 

“I don’t want to know.” 

Kid exhales a sigh of relief. 

“I do wish you’d stop putting yourself in danger.” 

He blinks at that.

“You gotta stop showing up covered in blood.” 

“Should I show up with flowers? Would you like that?” 

“Depends on the flowers.” 

He leans in, the warmth of his body making your head start to swim, “I’m serious. What the fuck happened tonight?”

“Things have changed. I’ve changed them. It’s going to be better now.” 

You cross your arms. 

“You know I’d never let anything happen to you. No one follows me when I come here.” His round eyes seem to burn in the half-light. 

“If things have changed…does that mean I can kiss you?” the words fell out of your mouth easily, but you wince as they make their impact. The energy that was humming in your ears drops, leaving you in silence. 

Waiting for a response, simple. 

His mouth is on yours in an instant, your head spinning, taken by the impact. 

His hands find your hips, and you’re placed securely into his lap. How, in all this time, had you never felt his hands before? All of those times he’d come to you for help after a fight, and he’d kept his lovely hands to himself. 

You couldn’t allow that anymore! 

You take his wrists in your hands to move his warm, wide palms. You push yourself into his hands because you want to, you want him

His hardness grows steadily underneath you, as he lets you rub yourself against him, allowing himself to get lost, soaking you into himself. He simply had to be yours. 

You were a softness he’d wrap himself in, an extra layer to keep him warm through the winter (A/N: FROM A CHALLENGERS FIC). 

You feel his hands wander to your shoulders, pulling your mouth away from his with a slight pop. 

“You know I’m different.” It wasn’t a question. 

All those fights, all those blows to the head that should have killed him, and he’d simply walked away. Of course you knew.

“Are you trying to scare me?” You asked, earnest. You had nerves, of course you did, but it wouldn’t break through. 

“No! Never. I’m just trying to be honest.” 

You giggle. Your hands cup his face, and you smile at how he relaxes into your grip. 

“I think I’m just curious… How long have you been . . . different?” You questioned, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger.  

“Long enough to know what I’m doing?” 

“So you won’t kill me.” 

“I think Lucky would kill me first. You can send me away if you like. I won’t be back again.” 

“I’m not saying no, I just want to see.”

He blinks at you. 

You trail off, “May I see?” 

“...Sure.” 

 You put your hands on either side of his face, dark beard soft, he lets you pull u a pink lip, revealing white teeth, one long canine tooth, flat, thin, sharp. There’s another one on the other side. Like a predator, like a beast you’d find in the wild. 

Yeah, he’s exactly what he says he is. Different. 

“Good?” He asks, neutral.

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

The air in your room is cool , his eyes wide and wet.  

Is this what all creatures are like? 

You almost ask, but fall into his mouth instead. 

“Still curious?” 

“Ask me tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow. He likes the sound of that. Has he ever had anyone want to stay until tomorrow? He couldn’t remember when. How strange, to be alive as long as he had, and never been more than a kink, someone dipping a toe into the dark, as if he hadn’t had to make a life here. 

That was by design, he thought. Wasn’t he supposed to be the greatest predator and killer of all time? Ha!

Maybe he’s comfortable right here. Maybe the Devil’s perfect predator yearns for a collar and a leash. 

What a magnificent leash it would be. 

Your back arched against him, you gasp, grinding him. You receive a soft peck against your lips, and the most gentle smile. 

Your eyelids flutter close, and he makes himself comfortable against you. 

Kid makes a trail between your mouth and the most delicate column of your throat, licking and sucking. You allow him to pull off your shirt, before lowering you back into the worn out couch.  You shiver, in spite of the heat coursing through your veins. 

He leans over you, tracing his nose against your jaw, inhaling. 

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he hums against your ear, the cello strings getting louder and louder in his head. 

Putting a hand between your legs, he smiles into your neck. You push yourself against the heel of his palm, enjoying the sparks against your clit. 

Your pulse feels too correct under his mouth, and he throbs for it. What a lovely thing, to be able to have your neck between his teeth. 

He lies between your legs, comfortably, like he’d been laying with you for years. 

He smiles to himself as he feels your wetness against his hand, his mouth wandering over every piece of flesh you had exposed. You gasp as his mouth catches a nipple, tugging it, making you squirm. 

He lets you put your hands in his damp hair, his fangs lightly piercing the underside of your breast, red droplets against the softness of your skin for him to lap up. 

You whine at the faint pain, but he knows better. The hand between your legs knew better, your pathetic hole fluttering against him. 

You were everything. 

What a pretty picture you made, wide eyes, a warm, soft mouth, comfortably underneath him like you were meant to be here. How could you make the picture of someone so docile, fuckable, like he didn’t owe you absolutely everything? 

To your dismay, he pulls his hand back, and brings it up to his mouth. Your eyes snap open as Kid is struck with a full body shudder. The red against his hand seems to burn into him. 

It can’t be true. It’s too perfect, he thinks to himself. You watch him pant, chills down your spine. 

“...are you…bleeding?” He asked, rasping into your mouth, 

You couldn’t do too much, only nod. 

He’d had you too intoxicated, you’d gone and forgotten about your period.

A heartbeat passes. Maybe two.  

“I need to eat now. May I?” He asks, polite, but his face betrays him. 

“Yes.” 

In a blink, he’s upon you. Head between your legs, sucking at your bloody heat like he’d been made to do it. And he had, you supposed. 

Your back bows as he smoothly works a  finger into you, your own blood and slick guiding him in. 

Kid slurps, a filthy sound that nearly made you jump off the couch. 

An unfamiliar fog descends over your mind as you let him take what he wants. You're nobody’s fool, except his. 

You faintly feel his hands dig into your ass with an unrecognizable strength. You know he’d let you go if you asked, but his brute strength against yours is nothing short of exhilarating. 

Is this what it would take to keep him? Blood? You had that! You could always make more too. 

Your back arches, trying to get closer to his face, the sharpness of his nose breathtaking against your core. 

Your heart pounds in your head as he drinks from you, ears ringing. If you were a little more coherent, you’d be impressed with him, scraping his fingers mercilessly against your front wall, trying to drain any last drop you had to give. He’s taking what he wants. 

Whatever had happened earlier in the night, whatever put light behind his eyes, you thank every star.

He frantically scissors his fingers into you, lapping and sucking up everything he earned, bringing you closer and closer. 

He lavishes every mark made on you with his tongue, savoring the taste. 

You pout, and he holds you while your shaking and shivering dies down. 

“Will you forget about everyone else?” He asks, low in the dark.  

You blink at him, as if he were speaking another language. 

“What?” 

There was nobody else. No other ‘lovers’ in the past decade that could match what the two of you had just done. 

You feel something twitch against your thigh, in spite of your tiredness, you stick out your lower lip. He stares at it, eyes glittering. 

“You-” You puff, all those pesky feelings rushing straight to your head, “You’re holding back!” 

“And you're about to be anemic if we aren’t careful.” 

You can’t say much to that, so you let out a low, pitiful whine.

“You're going to rest, and you’re going to like it.” 

“Only if you stay put,” you blink. He smiles, mouth wet and red. 

You turn on the couch, pressing against his thin form, wiggling against him, making yourself comfortable. He lets you take his hand in your own, blood is already drying when you take two of his long, elegant fingers, and put them in your mouth. You sigh, satisfied. He does too. 

All will be well, because it’s him. You’ll do anything to keep him.