#BUT I know that’s mostly bc I’m just so desperate to get more time with her & the trio - & with 4 chs left - time is limited !!😭

[lovereadandwrite]

“did you HEAR MEEE ??! PLAY THE FKIN BEAT-” -Nobara Kugisaki/Chappell Roan🙂‍↕️💅🏻🔨

[chatonfils]

Starting off by saying I hate “mom Danny” bc it tends to be p transphobic and misgendering, so if anyone adds it to my post I’m blocking them.

Tim making his Kon clone baby, but the cloning chamber isn’t stable enough for the fetus. He’s desperately trying anything that he think might work, when he comes across Phantom. Phantom who has experience with stabilizing clones.

Danny had heard whispers through the grapevine (Ellie who’d joined the Teen Titans as Phantasm) that there was someone attempting to make clones. He’d only meant to snoop and see if it was a Vlad situation. If any clones had been made and needed liberating. What he found was a newly minted Red Robin crying over a red blinking message on a cloning chamber. He warbled a quiet “please, Kon, I don’t want to live without you.”

Danny quickly realizing this wasn’t an attempt to replace and destroy, but actually someone grieving, in probably an unhealthy way, but who was Danny to judge, he’d once replaced Sam and Tucker with robots for less. So he decided to help Red Robin out. Sure, he hadn’t dealt with kryptonian dna before, but he was at least 89% sure halfa dna was way more complicated. And Red Robin had already figured out ways around the dna shenanigans, it was just the stability that wasn’t going well. Honestly, he didn’t think it would be as easy as an ecto dejecto like it had been for Ellie. But his parents had a lot of inventions that they’d started making to help out ghosts, once they’d realized Danny was Phantom. Maybe telling Red Robin about ghost IVF wasn’t his most thought through plan.

“I think what might help is an incubator.” Phantom had suggested.

Tim could only gesture at the cloning chambers that had failed him thus far. They were essentially huge incubators.

Phantom awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I meant, like, a living incubator. Like a surrogate.”

“Where am I going to find someone that I not only trust to carry the baby, but also would volunteer?” Tim raised an eyebrow at him. Hell, had Tim had the equipment to do so, he would have carried the baby, everything else be damned. He just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Phantom blushed green and looked away. “It might take a little tinkering with the embryos to work with the physiology, but…. I could carry the baby for you. I mean, I’m trans, and even if I wasn’t, ghosts are kind of malleable in a reproductive sense. And there are options for IVF in ghost science. And like, my own clone is like my little sister. I’m also a protection spirit, so I would protect the baby with my entire afterlife. And I’m kind of rambling so you should say something before I embarrass myself.”

“You would be willing to carry a baby for me?” Tim was shell shocked by the offer.

“I mean, yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not cloning him for a malicious reason. You’re just trying to bring back a piece of your friend because you love and miss him. Dedication that strong for someone who has left the living plain, is admirable. You realized early on that you wouldn’t be able to increase the speed in which the clone grew. You’ve been trying despite knowing that this clone will be a baby that’s going to be your child, and not just the friend you lost. And I wouldn’t mind giving up my body for a little bit so you can make your family.”

Tim certainly hadn’t meant to surge forward and kiss Phantom. “Thank you.” Tim pulled Phantom into a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It took about a month for them to work out the kinks of making the baby safe for Danny’s body. In this time, Danny showing Red Robin his human form, and Tim revealing his own identity. It felt kind of wrong to keep his name from someone he intended to get pregnant with his child. Tim and Danny got close as they worked together on the baby. And there may have been a few more kisses shared between them. In the end, the baby ended up spliced with mostly Kon’s dna, some of Tim’s (to stabilize the kryptonian dna), and some of Danny’s (to keep the baby safe in the womb).

Once Danny was well and truly pregnant, he encouraged Tim to find Bruce. “I’ll keep the baby safe. You find your dad. If you need me for anything, I’m only a call away.” Tim hadn’t forgotten about Bruce, he’d just never thought it would take so long to set up cloning Kon. So much of his hurt and loneliness had fallen away in Danny’s presence, and Danny had let him hyper focus on making their baby.

“Probably terrible timing, but I’ve got to ask,” Tim swallowed nervously. “Be my boyfriend?”

Danny’s lopsided smile, thawed Tim’s nerves. “I think I could work with that. I hope you don’t mind kids though, I’m kind of pregnant.”

Tim huffed a laugh. “I’ll keep in touch while I’m away. Please keep me updated on the baby.”

Danny pulled him into a proper kiss, “I will.”

I’m mostly imagining Tim getting bump update photos and falling in love with his increasingly pregnant boyfriend, while he finds Bruce.

I’m also imagining after Bruce is back, Tim being like, “anyways gtg, my boyfriend is in his third trimester and I don’t want to miss the birth of our baby.” And peacing out before any bats could react, let alone stop him.

And also maybe when Kon comes back, there’s maybe a poly relationship started.

Also thinking about Tim getting Danny pregnant without the science.

Danny gets Dad, Tim gets Papa, and if Kon joins, he gets Poppy.

[itneverendshere]

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.

Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.

“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while. 

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. 

As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

[stuckinapril]

what red flags should i look for in a man?

I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, just any human being across the board. Ok so:

When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.

Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.

Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.

People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.

Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.

If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.

Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.

It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.

Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.

This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.

Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.

People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.

Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.

The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.

[daycourtofficial]

Forever is the sweetest con

Cassian x reader, Azriel x reader

Summary: based on this request - the war with Hybern claimed the life of your husband. Reeling with grief, you discover that you’re pregnant. His brother and your friend, Azriel, begins spending more and more time with you, finding solace in each other amidst your shared grief.

Author’s note: sadness, sadness, sadness, this one took me ages to write bc it’s so fucking sad 😭 I’m not super happy with this bc I was mostly trying to meet the deadline so this might feel disjointed bc I had to kinda skip around a lot. Also I didn’t tag this as Cassian x reader in tags bc it felt too painful to do that

Word count: 3k

Warnings: character death, unexpected pregnancy, honestly just sadness

“I’m Cassian.”

A large, handsome male greeted you as you were shelving some new books away. His large outstretched hand reached towards you, waiting in the air for a moment as you set the stack of books in your arms down. Your hand gets lost in the warmth of his, telling him your own name.

He smiles at it, repeating it, testing it on his tongue.

For days, that is the only memory playing in your head. It is what you think of as you lay in your shared bed, his scent still lingering. It is what you think when Feyre picks you up, and her and Mor place you in a bathtub as they clean you. It is what you think of as you stare at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on you.

It is what you think of as you stand between Rhysand and Azriel at Cassian’s memorial. It is what you think of as they lower the casket into the ground, the citizens of Velaris standing around to pay their respects.

You don’t notice the hundreds of people who come to offer you a silent nod, a gentle prayer over you, their voices carrying gentle choruses of “he was so brave” and “you should be proud”.

You’re too numb for any of this. You’re too numb to recognize the hand Azriel places on your back, or the hand Feyre clasps into your own, squeezing tightly.

All you can think about is how his hand felt in your own the first time you held it - warm, gentle, comforting. And how it felt the last time you held it - cold, lifeless, gone.

Being a war hero came with a cost.

Only Cassian didn’t have to pay it - those he left behind did.

-

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Cassian died. You’re not sure if the people of Velaris still mourned him, or were simply wearing the traditional colors of their court.

You sat in one of Cassian’s old tunics, piles of clothes scattered on the floor around you. Your back was to the wall, its cool surface warming with your heat.

You hear movement in the house, but you don’t have the energy or ability to care who’s here.

Someone knocks gently before coming into the room, Azriel’s large frame coming through the door to your chambers. He sees the slightly ajar closet door, and shimmies his way in, sitting next to you amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.

He notes that they all seemed to have been pulled right off their hangers, in a fit of rage or desperation perhaps. Shades of black and red litter the floor, and the realization that it was all Cassian’s clothes causes him to take in a deep breath.

You two sit for a while, Azriel’s wings likely cramped in the small space. Mother knows Cassian complained if he spent more than five minutes in your closet.

Azriel just sits in silence, his shadows gently swirling the floor, searching through the piles.

For what, you’re not sure.

You finally speak, the words hard to form. You didn’t speak much these days - your voice a rare sound for your family’s ears.

���He doesn’t need them to be hung up anymore.”

Azriel sighs, shifting closer to you. He gauges you, looking for a reaction before moving a bit closer.

“He never needed them hung up. Before you he mostly just left his clothes strewn about the room. Drove Nuala and Cerridwen mad.”

You look at him, pulled from your trance of that black shirt Cassian wore when the two of you went on vacation in Adriada. The shirt that fit him so well the two of you did not see the beach at all for the five days you were there.

“They’d complain, saying every night he’d pull his clothes that they neatly hung up and the next morning they’d be strewn about his room,” he shrugs, still confused over how Cassian kept track of where everything was.

“Eventually Rhys told them to stop and to let Cassian do what he wants. No idea how he managed to stay neat and tidy with you.”

Your eyes meet his, and he reaches out a hand for you. It’s the first offer of help you’ve accepted in days. You keep his hand in yours for a long time, sitting amongst Cassian’s clothes.

-

You were sitting on the small balcony of your home, looking out at the expansive night sky above you. Elbows on knees, collapsing in on yourself.

Eyes red rimmed, tear tracks marking your face. You had never felt so helpless or as hopeless as you did now. Your eyes snag on a dark figure, soaring through the skies, its body getting closer and closer.

Azriel had taken to checking on you every three days now. Make sure you were eating, washing, and moving. Honestly if it weren’t for these biweekly check ins, you’re not sure how you would be faring.

The Illyrian descends next to you, a soft landing as he tucks his wings back in and sits next to you. You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the night a melody playing for just you two.

Velaris is dark, few fae lights scattered throughout the city aglow. You breathe deeply, taking in the smell of Azriel next to you. You should tell him, but you haven’t been able to tell anyone all week.

It was eating you up - you knew they’d be supportive, you knew they’d love you and help you in anyway they could. But it would still break their hearts just a bit more.

Your internal debate is ended by the overwhelming turn of your stomach, your lunch from earlier wanting to make a quick exit. You hurriedly get up, running towards your bathroom and throwing yourself on your toilet, narrowly reaching it in time.

Azriel ran after you, making quick work of grabbing your hair before you began your second wave of vomiting. The only sounds in the room are your retching and Azriel’s soothing tunes.

His other hand gently rubs your back as you feel as if you’re going to die. From embarassment or pain, you’re not sure. He waits for you to say what he already suspects, having noted a subtle shift in your scent when he arrived.

You wipe your mouth, not wanting to say the words aloud. The words that Madja had told you three days ago, the words that caused you to shut down until now.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, head leaning against the toilet seat. “All Cass wanted was to be a dad. Now I’m pregnant and he’s dead.”

A forced laugh comes from you.

“It’s not fair, Az.”

Your words hang in the air, and your friend responds by wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he cries softly into your hair.

The two of you lay there, the cool bathroom tile digging imprints into your skin as he holds you, tears streaming from both of you.

-

Several months along in your pregnancy, and Azriel has essentially moved in with you full time. He takes meticulous care of you and the babe - he goes to your appointments with Madja with you, he goes baby shopping with you, he even put together the crib in your room.

He was your late husband’s brother. He was stepping up, knowing that Cassian would want him to help you. And yet your dreams wouldn’t stop being so perverse.

For the past month, every night without fail you dreamt of Azriel. Every dream was different - some of places you’ve gone before, places you only know of because Azriel described them.

The dreams were weird and disorienting, but you left them there. They were dreams.

About how beautiful he was. About his hands, his wings, his shoulders, his thighs.

Every day you’d wake up full of shame at where your mind takes you against your will.

-

“Az,” you say, a serious look on your face. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks over to you, glasses perched on his nose. The knife in his hand clatters, landing on the cutting board, a piece of carrot tumbling to the floor as he moves to you quickly.

Your breathing becomes more shallow, and you hold your hands out, reaching for his. Once his fingers reach yours, you bring his hands to your bump.

Just as he’s about to ask what the problem is, he feels a soft thump against his scarred hand. He can’t control the soft laugh that comes from him, and he can’t help but cradle your bump just a little tighter.

He looks back up to you, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought something was wrong.”

You smile, “I know - that’s what makes it fun.”

-

Almost eight months had passed since Cassian’s death, and you were finally able to hear his name without breaking down. Azriel was the only one you would talk to about him, though.

It felt right to talk about Cassian to Azriel. It felt right to plunge yourself back into the memories of him - his boisterous laugh, his insistence on touching someone at all times, his presence in rooms.

It felt right, and the babe in your belly would kick frequently whenever Azriel spoke to you about Cassian, as if they knew who you were talking about.

It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Every night before bed you replayed the memories of the day, desperately trying to insert Cassian into Azriel’s spot in them.

He never fit perfectly into them, the edges of him not quite the right size.

-

This was too much.

You were an absolute fool to believe you could do this. To not only birth but to raise your dead husband’s babe. Who let you do this? Who thought this was a good idea?

“Hey.”

Azriel’s voice vibrates through you, pulling you from your thoughts, his large frame behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms helping hold your legs up.

You lean your head against him.

“This was a terrible, terrible idea.”

He smiles, “Cassian never was known for good ideas.”

Your face contorts in agony, a strong cramping pain rippling through you.

Azriel takes the wet cloth from the nurse to his left, holding it on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

You scoff, “if I was doing well, the babe would be out by now!”

Azriel takes your jabs, your sarcasm, the intense squeezing of his hand in yours. He’ll take everything you throw at him.

After about eight hours, you were blessed by the cauldron with a beautiful boy, tiny wings clinging to his back as he cried.

-

Azriel’s presence didn’t stop after the babe, Camden, was born. If anything, he spent more time with you. He delegated much of his work as spymaster to support you, even going so far as helping coordinate schedules for Feyre or Nesta to help you bathe.

In the first few weeks, you were able to move around, but you were utterly exhausted. Not just the physical demands of your babe and recovering from birthing a winged babe, but also the emotional toll this took on you left you unable to care much for yourself.

You had thought being bathed would make you feel like a burden, but Feyre and Nesta did everything to make you feel so loved instead. They lit candles, rubbed your back, and told you how proud of you they were constantly. Their words never failed to make you cry, the task at hand feeling impossible if you thought about it too hard.

Eventually, after weeks of sleepless nights, feeling like nothing more than a cow for milk, you and Azriel were able to settle into a routine.

He took care of the babe at night, allowing you decent sleep. He brought Camden to you for his middle of the night feedings. You took care of Camden during the morning through early afternoon while Azriel attended to his duties. The two of you cooked dinner together, Azriel always insisting on washing dishes afterwards.

After a while, it all felt so normal. As if Cassian was never meant to be here for this part.

-

A few months after your son’s first birthday all Hell broke loose. It was a regular day. The sun still shone as it always does, your son was as beautiful as ever. Azriel was holding Camden in the air, helping him stretch out his wings, when he spoke for the first time.

A soft dada accompanied the little boy’s giggles, followed by Azriel stiffening immediately. You looked to the shadowsinger, and when his eyes met yours, you knew.

As if a golden thread appeared out of thin air, tying a knot from Azriel to you, you could feel him. You pulled an experimental tug in the bond, and he pulled back.

Wide eyes meet each other from across the room, silent except for Camden’s continued giggles. You stare at him bewildered, your expression mirrored back to you on his face.

A high pitched noise starts ringing in your eyes before everything goes black.

-

“It’s a bit of a cruel joke,” you say. “I want to love him, I want to be with my mate. But what kind of person does that to her deceased husband?”

You had woken up in Rhys’s office twenty minutes ago to your head in Feyre’s lap, her hands gently running through your hair.

You had heard bits of hushed conversation, and you thought you had heard Az, but when you came to, he was nowhere to be seen.

Rhys looks contemplative before saying, “you of all people should know that Cassian would have wanted you to be happy.”

You put your head in your hands, gathering to courage to say your worst thoughts out loud.

“It feels like Cassian died for me. I know he didn’t, but I can’t help but feel like if he had survived, would Azriel still be my mate? He would have let me be with him, yes, but just.”

You sigh, trying to grab the fragmented thoughts in your head and place them together. Rhys lets you, allowing silence to fill the room.

“It would have killed him having to watch me choose Azriel over him. He would have done the respectable thing, he would have stepped back. He would have been happy for us.”

You sigh, “but if it were the other way, if Nesta or Elain were his mate, I’m not sure I could give him up.”

Your words come pouring out quickly before you begin sobbing. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His hands wrap around your head, and he gently smooths your hair down.

“Feyre and I are immensely happy for you, despite the circumstances. Both of you. I know you might not feel like it, but you made your own family.”

-

You found Azriel a few hours later in what used to be his room in the townhouse. He hardly stayed here, hardly stayed at any of Rhys’s estates anymore, opting instead for the comfort of the home you two now shared.

“Hi,” you say tentatively, stepping through the door.

“Hi,” he echos back, turning to see you.

“Crazy day,” you say, pulling lightly on the bond. He cracks a smile, but there’s a sadness deep in his gaze that you haven’t seen in months.

He moves towards you, slow and deliberate steps, as if you were a bunny found in the woods easily scared off.

“Do you want this?” He asks, eyes focused on your own.

You nod your head. He nods back.

“I dreamt of you. For months, years even. Since about halfway through my pregnancy, you’ve been in my dreams most nights.”

He watches you speak, letting you say whatever it is you need to. You take a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to forget Cass, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re replacing him. I can love both of you.”

He steps closer, slowly moving towards you until he’s stopped right in front of you, his wings blocking you in.

“It’s unconventional, I understand. And I understand if you don’t want a widow with a child.” You look up towards him, determination in your eyes. “But I am all in.”

He gently cups your cheek, eyes full of conflict. “It won’t be easy,” he muses.

“Nothing about this has been easy, why start now?”

His face slowly moves closer to yours, his lips gentle against your own. His hands still hold you gently, as he kisses you long and slow.

There would be time for passion later, his kiss now is full of the emotions words can’t convey. Adoration, sacrifice, immense grief.

You thought having Azriel kiss you would make you feel like you were betraying Cassian. Instead you feel an overwhelming sense of rightness as your hands cup his jaw back, pouring every ounce of you into him.

-

You and Azriel look out at your backyard, watching Nyx and Camden run around, play fighting with their swords. The two boys occasionally take short flights, only about a foot or so off the ground.

Azriel wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes, letting yourself feel this moment, allowing the sounds of the boys playing and your mate’s breathing to lull you into some form of peace you never thought you’d find again.

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, very slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

Days pass by, Blade didn’t come back to the Stellaron Hunters HQ to watch over you. Silverwolf keeps messaging him, telling him he needs to come back for another mission but he’s stubborn.

Silverwolf: Come back here, we’re having a meeting

Silverwolf: oh come on I know you’re seeing this

Silverwolf: Istfg

[seen by Bladie]

His phone shuts off and he just stares outside your window, he knows you’re not getting better anytime soon. He sometimes feels a twisted, aching feeling in his chest when you give him that feeble smile to pretend you're okay, when you both know no amount of medicine will save you, you could no longer hold a glass for more than a minute because your muscles fail you.

He feels sick.

This misery of his never going away.

“I have to go.”

He expected that you’d call out for him, “Okay, take care.”

So he leaves, he wishes he never looked back.

He was gone for 3 weeks, on another mission to exterminate more and more foes of the Stellaron hunters and gather more Stellaron with Kafka.

“Something on your mind?” The blood on his hands could never be washed away, he wants to go back to that stupid Clove-V planet and talk to you.

“None of your business.” Kafka is surprised, it's the first time he sees Blade so irritated (he mostly is but not to this extent)

Kafka doesn’t ask again and they finish their mission.

In 4 days, he rushed to see you. You stopped replying to his messages, only a tiny ‘seen’ message pops up every now and then and he hates to admit it, he’s dying to see you again.

“Doctor.” Your door creaks open, another visitor it seems.

”Is it you Blade?”

He nods, but with a tightness to it, he sits beside you again, mold was already building up on your sink, your lack of mobility making you lose the ability to do normal tasks.

”Are you okay?”

”I wish.” How could someone act so carefree on the brink of death? He doesn’t understand you, no, not at all.

He wants to reach out for you, to comfort you but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. He doesn’t understand why he wants to comfort you, he understands why he cares so much, he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, he doesn’t even understand himself.

But when you smile at his hesitance, he realises, maybe you do.

He doesn’t reach out for you, he’s always an arm's length away from you, never close yet never too far. “You haven’t eaten, you’re going to die.”

Even if you eat, you will never get better; but he wants you to.

“Maybe, but I’m fine with that.”

”With dying? You’re a fool.” He doesn’t want to accept that you’re going to die, that you’re okay with dying because he’s not.

You’re a fool, a bastard, for trying to understand him but he can never understand himself nor can he ever truly understand you.

“You better not die,” his eyes desperately tried to never meet with yours.

He doesn’t want to look into your eyes, he doesn't want to accept the truth. That your eyes no longer beam with excitement at his words, that the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed.

“I know I will,” he no longer hides his worry, his fear, his desperation to keep you alive.

So he asks again, “What do I do?”

Like every other time he asks what ‘can’ he do for you, you repeat your words, “Just keep me company.”

He nods, sitting beside you. The tension in the air is obvious, neither utter a single word in this deafening (yet comforting) silence.

Blade cannot accept that you’re giving up, you’re not allowed to give up, he won’t accept it.

He drapes a blanket over you, “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Your throat burns, but you want to talk to him, even when you’re dying, you want to understand him.

”It hurts.” He doesn’t know what to do.

He wants to understand your pain, he wonders, if your pain is as worse as his, that it hurts so much you’d rather pass. That maybe, you’re the same and you wish to die too.

Neither of you will truly understand the other, but you try.

“I got sick when I was a child, 7– no, 8… I don’t remember,” he pretends he doesn't hear the rasp in your voice, “Just… Medicine made the progression slower.”

You could almost cry, “I wanted to study medicine, I wanted to heal others of their pain.”

”I don’t want to die.”

He doesn’t want to hear your desperate cry, he doesn’t hear it.

“Blade, it hurts,” he’s never wanted to shut off his ears when you spoke what he never wanted to hear, “Can I give up?”

He doesn’t want you to, but has no right to deny you peace.

”Is it okay if I give up?”

No, he won’t let you give up. You were there when he was sick, you did not look at him with hatred in your eyes, you treated him like any other person, something that has never happened in years. In your eyes, Blade was just a man.

So he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t want you to give up, of course; but what can he do?

“It’s okay, right?”

”If that’s what you need.” He holds your hand out of instinct, “Then give up.”

He wants to yell at you that you’re an idiot, that giving up is for the weak but it’d be hypocritical of him to do so, I mean, he’s given up on life a long time ago, what’s he going to do? Tell you inspirational shit to keep your will to live alive?

“Thank you.”

No tears escape him, not a single choked sob leaves his throat but when your eyes lock for one last time, you understood him and he understood you too.

You two were just the same.

He squeezes your hand and rests his head on your stomach, when you don’t flinch, he realises you’re gone now too.

He can no longer understand you by your words, you can no longer speak to him, he can’t understand your past or who you truly are.

But how could you, how did you do it?

A single medical book rests on his hand, he may not understand what you truly are, but he’ll read countless books for you. He’ll play your favourite stupid games for you.

Maybe then, he’ll understand the only person that truly knew him, who gave him company in this miserable life of his.

What a pathetic, miserable, bitter life.

Note: DEF OOC BUT WHO TF CARES (I DO AND IM EMBARRASSED) but its okay right?? Like i wrote this in just 2 days (5 hours everyday) Whatever whatever i think its okay i feel sick I haven't ate lunch yet bye wuahhshdsj

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[havensins]

a little sub!steve drabble bc i’m currently in pain <3

cw — sub!bp!steve, dom!amab!reader, cow girl position, feminization (?), you call steve princess like twice, love bombs bc i love steve in a totally normal way, cockwarming at the end! etc.

note — not proofread as usual </333

having a lap full of a desperate and mostly naked steve rogers had to be a wet dream come true. he was so adorably needy, grasping onto you as if you were his lifeline as he kissed you breathless. he kisses you messily, a clash of teeth and swapped saliva, while he grinds subtly in your lap.

“what’s the matter baby? ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” you mumble against his lips, he smiles back against yours bashfully. he doesn’t stop grinding down in your lap, “i just want you so bad,” he whines, grinding down on the visible bulge in your underwear.

you can feel how wet he his, kissing softly down his jaw as you reach a hand down to tease his clit through his underwear. he whimpers softly, holding your wrist loosely and rolling his hips towards you. “maybe i should be nice… you seem so riled up already,” you hum, holding him as you lift your hips to slide down your underwear. he does the same with his, flinging both of the garments elsewhere.

“please? i’ve been good haven’t i? i think i deserve a small reward,” he murmurs, lifting his hips up as his knees dig into the mattress. he’s teasing you; the puffy and slicked lips of his pussy moving feather light along your tip. “teasing won’t get you the reward you’re looking for princess,” you tell him, taking a hold of his waist.

he stills, staring at you as he sinks down slowly. the warmth of his cunt engulfs you nearly whole, he has his hands on your stomach as he slides down to the hilt. “‘s so much,” he whimpers, gasping out as he adjusts to the pleasurable burn of the stretch.

your hands find his ass, squeezing at the flesh as he whines. gingerly, he lifts himself up before easing himself back down. he sets a steady pace for himself, clenching around you as he bounces on your cock.

he looks about as ruined as you feel, moaning out expletives yourself at the feeling of his gummy walls surrounding you. his hands find your shoulders while your thumb finds his clit. he’s quivering as his pace slows a little. he’s close, and you can feel it in the way his thighs tremble.

the both of you are panting, whispering praises back and forth and allowing the sounds of your passion to spur you on. “so big,” he rasps, “love it, love you,” he murmurs, mind hazy from being stuffed so full. “love you the most, princess,” you grunted, allowing your hands to dig into his hips.

“c’mon stevie, i know you wanna cum,” you hum, grinding your hips up into his. “so close-!” he wails, bouncing on your cock a couple more times before he finally seats himself in your lap and falls pliant in your hold. he quivers with the force of his orgasm, and his sets off yours. you cum into him, cock throbbing as you hold him tight and fill him up completely.

he’s breathing heavily against you, and you are too, holding him flush to you. “we gotta clean up,” you murmur tiredly, shifting underneath him. “no,” he whine, “w’nna stay, ‘m all full,” he hums weakly clenching around you. you smile against his cheek, “only for a little then, love.”

[thatgirlstrawberry]

NSFW Alphabet

Smut warning

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

A-Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

After being rough, he would clean you up

Make sure that you’re not hurt and if you are, he would message you anywhere you needed it

He would put you in the bath or shower and wash your body and hair

After he would apologize profusely if he thought he was being too rough on you

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to-“

“Spencer, shut the fuck up. Your dick is magical.”

B-Body part (his favorite body part of yours)

Definitely your thighs and your hands

He likes gripping your thighs when his head is between them

He just lies grabbing them in general

Like there isn’t a time when he’s not touching your thighs sexually or not

Your hands bc he loves when you wrap them around his dick

Or when he has you in missionary and your hands are squeezing his biceps

C- cum (anything to do with cum)

He loves it when you tel him to cum inside you

He’s more than happy too really

When he doesn’t finish inside, he pulls out and comes on your stomach or back— whichever way he has you

D- dirty secret (😈)

He secretly likes it when you take control in bed

He also secretly likes it when you can barely form words when he’s inside you

When you try not to moan but end up failing miserably

When your nails tear skin as they claw at his back while he fucks you

E- experience (How experienced is he?)

Honestly, he wasn’t very experienced before he met you

He had only had sex with four or five people before you

He was a natural though

He knew how to pleasure you by asking you

Spencer is an obedient man— when you tell him you need something, he’ll do it

F- favorite position (what’s his favorite position to have you in?)

He absolutely loves missionary— seeing your face change with every thrust

But he also likes it when you ride him so he can look down and see his dick disappearing inside of you

He also likes when you’re face down, ass up gripping the sheets and arching your back

G- goofy (is he serious or funny during sex?)

When the moment is right, he will definitely laugh with you during sex

Like if one of you laughs, the other one will too

The giggly sex is most likely gonna be in the morning— don’t know why it just seems like that

He’ll be wayyyyy more serious at night

Like after an argument or on an anniversary

Or to celebrate something one of you achieved

H-hair (how well groomed is he?)

He’s not completely shaved down there but he’s not like wild

I’m gonna stop there bc this one is just awkward to me lmao

I- intimacy (how intama

He’s literally the most romantic man during sex

I just can’t like stop thinking about how he would hold you hand against the bed as he went a little slower than usually if you had a bad day or something

When he’s feeling a little down that day, he’d pull you close, chest to chest

His face either hidden in your neck or his eyes closed focusing on your proximity and the way you feel

J- Jack off (when does he get himself off?)

Any time he’s away on a long case

I fully believe that at some point, y’all were having sex and this man just like whipped out a Polaroid camera, took pictures and stuffed them in a secret pocket in his go bag

He’d call you when he knew you were awake and asked if you could face time and show him your 🍒

He’s more subby when he’s masturbating because he’s desperate

K- kinks (what kinks does he have?)

Dirty talk

Praise link

Overstimulating (you)

Dacryphilia (idk if this is a kink but he loves to have you in tears)

You calling him doctor— Ik it’s weird but he’s literally a nerd 😭

Semi-public (I’m talking like bending you over a desk in an empty private office at the BAU)

L- location (where?)

Like I said previously— in an empty private office

Mostly in bed tho

Or bent over the kitchen counter

Or the bathroom sink, making you watch yourself in the mirror

M- motivation (what turns him on?)

You

Literally just you

You could be watching tv and he would be turned on watching your tongue poke out the corner of your lips

He gets turned on when you’re washing dishes

When you’re eating

Literally doing anything

N- no (something he wouldn’t do)

Hit you— he would never inflict pain on you, that’s stepping over a line

Letting someone watch y’all do it/3somes— you’re enough for him

Toys— he wants your orgasms to be from him and him only (and yourself if he’s ever away on a case and you need release)

Spitting on or in you— he thinks that’s weird and a great way to spread germs (and so do I)

O- oral (what’s his preference on oral sex?)

He absolutely loves giving you head

He’s a god at it

He can literally make you come with his tongue in lest than 3 minutes

He loves the way you taste— he thinks you taste better than coffee and sprinkled donuts

Spencer also loves when you give him head

Loves the feeling of your lips and tongue wrapped around him

Thinks that it’s the second best feeling in the world (your pussy being the first)

He loves the way your mascara runs as you take him almost touching the back of your throat

P- pace (is he fast and rough or is he slow and soft?)

A little bit of both

He likes going rough when he needs it- like when he’s mad or frustrated with someone or something (obvi if you ask him to go fast and rough he will— mans will do anything for you)

He’ll go slow if he’s stressed or sad

And if you want it slow he’ll give it to you slow

Basically it depends on the situation

Q- quickies (his opinion on quickies)

He doesn’t really prefer quickies but if he has to leave for a case for a few days he’ll get one in before he has to leave

He likes to take his time therefore, quickies almost never happen

R- risk (is he willing to take risks?)

As long as you want it and it’s not one of the No’s, he loves to experiment

The riskiest thing you’ve ever done is handcuff him to the file drawer in the BAU and suck his dick, almost getting caught by Derek

Laughing when you guys experiment bc he’s all like “this is what I’m supposed to do, right? Are you sure?”

S- stamina (how long can they last? How many rounds can they go?)

Spencer has built up stamina from the start of your relationship to now

He used to only be able to last about 4-5 minutes inside you

Now he can go up to 10 minutes if you go straight to the penetrative sex

If you fore play, he lasts about 7 minutes

He can usually go three rounds before he has to stop

You’re usually a wreck after he’s done

T - toy (does he use toys?)

No

U- unfair (is he a tease? How does he react when you tease him?)

Spencer was too shy to be a tease in the beginning of your relationship

So you were the first one to do the teasing

You walked out of his bathroom the morning after your first time having sex in a towel and dropped it right in front of him

You pretended to not know that his eyes snapped to your dripping wet body and hair and walked towards his closet picking out a pair of his boxers and his shirt

“If you out those clothes on your body before you let me fuck you, I will lose my mind.”

His first time he teased you he called you good girl when you threw a crumpled piece of paper into the trash can from your spot at the kitchen table

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I get on my knees will you call me that again?”

V- volume (how loud is he when doing the deed?)

This man is LOUD

Not like the whiny loud tho

He’s the deep, sexy kind of loud

He’ll breathe all heavy in your ear

He’ll groan loudly and throw his head back when you on your knees for him

Sometimes Spencer will even bite his lip to try not to be loud but It never works

He’ll praise you and then moan low and deep right after

W- wild card (random)

When he plans to have sex, he’ll crate a playlist

“Good girl.”

“Keep those pretty eyes open, for me.”

Loves hearing your moans—

Loves it when you say please/ when you beg him for something

Will turn into a sugar daddy bc he can’t say no to you lmao

He’ll buy you anything you want or even glance at while you guys are walking around a store or a mall

Thinks buying you lingerie is awkward so he just asks you to get a certain set and gives you his credit card

The king of worrying

“Are you okay?” “Does that hurt?” “Did you come? We can go again i swear-“

X-ray (what’s going on under those pants!?)

8 inches

Literally didn’t expect it but after you got used to it you were like

“Oh yeah this is right.”

Y- yearning (how high is his sex drive)

This man can’t go a couple hours without being horny

He’s always wanting you

He always imagines you moaning his name

Long story short, he’s always horny and your sexy ass is to blame

Z- zzzzz (How quickly he falls asleep)

He waits until your comfortable and asleep before he even thinks about going to bed

He scoots closer to you and wraps his arms around your chest and falls asleep a while after

————————————————-

OMG WHAT IS THIS—

Oky sorry i love you babes! Hope you enjoyed this and I don’t totally suck at writing HCs. There’s a SFW one coming soon tho!!! Stay tuned for that and chapter 12 of Sick Surprise :)

Love youuuuuu!

Taglist: @mrsgweasley

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@blue-willows

@monzarella

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@honey-on-my-lips

[hana-bobo-finch]

Assorted pikmin headcanons that I might end up deleting bc I definitely haven’t already posted enough today

• Most Hocotatians can’t grow facial hair. Those who can are greatly envied (even if it’s just a few scraggly hairs like the president)

• Hocotate is mostly desert. Because of this, hocotatians generally don’t need as much water as others.

• Yonny is. Extremely in love with dingo. But he still tries to be a good wingman when dingo’s trying to talk to shepherd cause even if he’s insane he’s a good friend

• Louie tries to zone out when olimar’s telling him “stories” (which are more just olimar’s train of thought) but ends up subconsciously retaining it all. He remembers more about olimar than olimar himself.

• Collin actually has social anxiety despite being the comms guy, ironically the only way he’s found that he can calm himself is to never stop talking. So he yaps. A lot.

• Yonny’s tried to tell dingo before that his disliking of dogs probably stems from some form of ptsd from the time he thought he was being attacked during a rescue. Dingo just bragged about it because he thought having trauma made him sound more “badass.” It did not. He was very confused when he got sympathy and not admiration.

• Olimar gets frustrated with Louie very easily, but keeps it hidden because Louie gets chastised by the other employees and the president a lot and olimar wants to be the one to help him instead of just yelling at him.

• Hocotate freight, despite being tasked with large shipping jobs, is a rather small company with barely any employees. There’s pretty much no experience needed other than a basic pilot’s license to get a job there because the president is so desperate for workers

• Louie doesn’t even have a pilot license. He only managed to get hired because his nana convinced the president to hire him because of his family’s lineage of renowned pilots.

• His nana didn’t even ask Louie before getting him hired. He was looking to get a fry cook job at a restaurant nearby to save up for culinary school. He just went with it because he didn’t want to disappoint her

• Collin is aroace. He doesn’t know it, he just thinks he’s “too busy” for sex and romance (am I just saying that bc I’m projecting onto him nooooo I would neeever do that)

• Koppaites generally age physically slower than most. Giyans? What’s it called uhh. People from giya tend to physically age faster. They both have roughly the same life expectancy, though

• it’s a common practice on most civilized planets for the people to dye their hair, as they all share the trait of usually greying quickly. Only hocotatians don’t do this, as they over time have developed hair that retains its color longer—although they have less of it

• Louie hates space travel. He gets motion sickness easily. Olimar, on the other hand, loves it, and likes to do tricks with his ship when flying like spinning around. Somehow that’s never been the cause of a crash, the worst that’s happened was just louie feeling sick

• dingo has low iron levels. I have nothing more to add it is just definitely true

• whenever Louie’s on pnf-404 by himself, he survives the creatures by just ignoring them. Turns out a lot of them aren’t inherently violent or have a taste for hocotatian. The ones that do attack can be defeated easily by giving them poisonous plants

• Many of the planets are more of dwarf planets, if even that. Only hocotate, koppai, Giya, and pnf 404 are larger. Most of them are tiny and in the same solar system, making them almost more akin to different countries or continents than entirely different planets

that is all for my yapping goodbye

[subskz]

thoughts on bratty channie? it’s waaaayyyy out of character for him, so i wanna hear your take on it. i just want to degrade him and call him my little slut instead of the usual praise…just curious on how he’d take that…hehe

ohh a very good question…i agree it’s always been difficult for me to envision channie as a brat bc he’s just so prime obedient puppy angel who wants nothing more than to please you! your praise is all he needs to do whatever you ask of him without question, so he’d rarely feel the need to act out when being your good boy comes so naturally to him and is so rewarding for him! i also think he’d prefer to be a soft sub a lot of the time, so seeking punishment isn’t always smth he’d try to do bc he’d rather be taken care of

that being said he does definitely have his moments! he’s very playful and likes to joke around which sometimes results in him saying the most insane, out of pocket things just to get a reaction out of you. but what’s so endearing abt it is that he always backs down immediately after, breaking into cute giggles n waving his hand around saying “i’m joking i’m joking~~!” it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s so giddy and delighted w himself for teasing you, and he mostly just messes with you when he’s feeling clingy, like an overexcited puppy who’ll do anything to get you to focus on him. he also admittedly really likes your attention and gets a lil sulky when he feels like you’re ignoring him on purpose, so that might be one of the few times you see his “bratty” side. he’ll get way too close for comfort esp when you’re preoccupied w smth else, push his face super close to yours and tilt his head playfully from side to side when u try to nudge him away, taunt you w the biggest dimply grin on his face, act oblivious to how he’s riling you up, trap you in tight hugs and refuse to let go, and (this is a big one) mimic your words in the cutest whiny voice

sometimes it’s hard to tell whether he’s really just joking around or trying to get a rise out of you, bc most of what he does is kinda harmless, even at his brattiest 😭 he’s pretty persistent though so it’s only a matter of time until you run out of patience, and when you do he crumbles instantly. it takes just one pointed look to have him switching up and apologizing through nervous giggles. the moment you get your hands on him he just melts, and you know right away that this is exactly what he was hoping for. his eyes go wide as moons and glaze over like he’s ready to do anything to make it up to you, bc it’s not really the fight that he enjoys, it’s your attention and the rough treatment he gets out of it

he instantly reverts back to his good boy demeanor and accepts your punishment all too eagerly. it sends shivers down his spine when you touch him without any of your usual care, bc if he wants to act like a brat then he gets treated like one. he lets you bend him to your will and toss him around like he’s weightless, letting out the sweetest little whines when you start talking down to him. call him a dumb little slut for playing all these games w you instead of just asking for what he wants like a good boy, mock him for how hard it makes him to act like a desperate whore, and he’d let out the filthiest most pathetic moan like he’s trying to prove your point <3 he’d be begging, whining, and apologizing the entire time but he loves every bit of how how grab his face and force him to look up at you, scornfully asking why he’s suddenly not laughing anymore. the humiliation makes his whole body burn in the best way, and he does admittedly start to feel guilty for causing you so much trouble, you can see it all over his face and it’s very endearing 💔

still, he takes whatever you give him without complaint and will even start to whimper out in agreement as you degrade him, babbling abt how he’s just a needy puppy too dumb to use his words and a stupid little slut who needs your attention so bad, he’ll do anything to get it. it almost makes you feel sorry for him hearing how his voice breaks and seeing how his eyes well up w tears, but you can see the way he’s practically throbbing w arousal from your words alone, and you know how much he’s getting off on it. he nods mindlessly to everything you say and sniffles out for you to be mean to him and teach him a lesson. i think the worst punishment for him would be getting tied up w a vibrator inside him/pressed to his cock and a gag in his mouth 🥰 not only does it drive him crazy to be completely helpless like that, unable to touch you or hide his face or cover his body when he’s embarrassed, but it’s also the exact opposite of what he wanted ): poor baby would cry and mewl so pitifully around the gag, drooling and leaking all over himself as he tries to slur out for you to please pay attention to him, he promises to be good for you!! but you just deny him over and over and watch his cute face scrunch up in frustration and pleasure when you tell him this is all a bad boy like him gets. it’s definitely not a dynamic he could handle often, and he’d need lots of praise afterwards, but there’s smth so exhilerating to him abt being treated so coldly from time to time

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hi, I had a random thought about Wylan Van Eck and it accidentally turned into a world building rant so enjoy… I guess?

Every so often I randomly remember that Wylan has canonically been to the races at Caryeva in Ravka and I just can’t help but wonder what the hell this situation was like. I don’t recall a lot of specific descriptions about Caryeva so correct me if I’m wrong but I believe it’s an environment quite similar to that of the Barrel and that boy was not thriving in the Barrel okay the stress of imagining young Wylan stuck with his father at the Caryeva races is so real. Like I’m not saying the entire place must be a hellhole but the key information we know about it (at least to my recollection and what I gathered about two minutes ago from the Grishaverse wiki) is that its main points of interest are gambling in horse races and producing alcohol, and we know that Vasily gathered a less than pleasant reputation whilst spending most of his time there gambling away what little fortune he had left. And also what the hell was Van Eck doing there in the first place? The version of Jan Van Eck we see him present to the other characters and therefore to us as the reader (since we don’t ever get his POV) would simply cease to exist at the impropriety of it all, he can’t get through a conversation about the Barrel without cringing and you’re telling me he went on a trip to Caryeva and took his presumably very young son with him? (I’m assuming this bc Wylan says he *used* to take him everywhere with him and Van Eck found out he couldn’t read when he was about eight). What was this situation???? Why was he there???? I wonder if this is another subtle hint towards the potential extent of less than savoury business Van Eck is involved in beyond Wylan’s knowledge, like when he suggests meeting on Vellgeluk (an island used mostly by smugglers and traffickers) and Inej is surprised he knows about it and Kaz responds something along the lines of “perhaps he’s not so much the upstanding merch he claims to be”.

The reference to Caryeva just always sticks out to me as slightly random in comparison to the other places Wylan lists his father as having taken him to - the Shu oil fields? Absolutely, this is a world (at least as I’ve understood it) currently moving towards its Industrial Revolution at top speed of course Van Eck of all people is looking to invest in oil futures he may be the worst but he is clever; the Ice Court? It’s a diplomatic event between the leaders of two countries, one desperately trying to maintain its neutrality to hold tightly to its place in the world economy as it very quickly develops (Kerch) and one desperately trying to impose itself as a greater world power than its being given credit for via violence and focusing its development on military-based progress like the tanks (Fjerda) (btw I think I’ve talked about this before in my worldbuilding posts but I have thoughts about the tanks and the general global development of the grishaverse so if anyone wants more theories/analyses on that let me know), so yes it absolutely makes sense especially since we’re starting to see (or at least I think we are but I’m not a historian I’m basing this on my understanding about how these things happened in our world and how they would develop in their world based on the distinctions between the two) the globalisation of the Grishaverse beginning; the Jurda farms in near Shriftport? We all know Van Eck has a vested interest in jurda and we also know it was a big part of his business long before parem came to the scene because it is a massively used stimulant throughout Kerch; Weddle? Absolutely, I don’t know if it’s been confirmed as the capital but if it isn’t it’s still a major city in Novyi Zem there are a thousand reasons Van Eck could’ve been there; Elling? Once again it’s entirely reasonable to imagine Fjerda having a vested interest in an alliance with Kerch to secure their place in the global economy and to manipulate what is almost definitely and imminent and unavoidable collapse of the country’s questionable neutrality; Elling makes sense because Van Eck probably visited Fjerda a lot and even if there wasn’t anything about alliances and military tactics and etc going on Elling is a port settlement and it makes plenty of sense to assume large amounts of trade take place here. (My theory about the military stuff if below, sorry the paragraph was too long to get it all in together)

(Ravka is in severe debt to the Kerch government and we know Fjerdan intelligence is well aware of this, especially since Matthias knew when he hadn’t been in the government for over a year and never worked anywhere near espionage, and Kerch is also a massive global power. Support for Fjerda from Kerch would mean support from the Southern Colonies and possibly even division in Novyi Zem, and whilst it would probably prevent the Fjerdans from any kind of alliance with the Shu due to the tension between Kerch and Shu Han being so high it would also probably not be necessary for them to make a deal with the Shu if the had the support of the Kerch. Ultimately, Fjerda and Shu Han are fighting for control of the same land, they just haven’t reached each other yet because they’re still stuck on opposite sides of Ravka. If either country gained control of the majority of Ravka’s land then it would lead to a fight with the other; Fjerda need global support if they have a chance of winning two wars immediately after each other and if Kerch are in fact going to have to lose their neutrality, as it seems they are being forced to do and definitely would have been forced to do if parem became a global resource (Van Eck even says himself on the matter that Kerch has enjoyed neutrality for too long), and already have high tensions with Shu Han and rising tensions with Novyi Zem (due to the assassination of the Zemeni ambassador, which I do believe was an attempt to start a war btw, that they blame the Kerch for and the Kerch suspect the Shu for) then they are the perfect target for Fjerda to form an alliance with. Kerch also has a very strong navy which Fjerda presumably lacks since their efforts have all been focused on Ravka, where they share a land border, so to enter a larger scale/global war they would need a navy on their side. Again, I want to emphasise I know very little about military tactics and history I am approaching this by imagining that it’s a logic puzzle, so you might be reading this and this and thinking that it makes no sense in realistic scenarios but this is just my theory)

But Caryeva???? Even if there weren’t standing for Van Eck and the Merchant Council to be plotting against Ravka, which I personally believe there is, it STILL WOULDN’T MAKE DIPLOMATIC OR BUSINESS SENSE TO GO TO CARYEVA. So in summary I think Van Eck was doing lots of messed up things that young Wylan didn’t understand because he was a small child so why would he, plus this was a time in his life when probably trusted his father, and I think that this is yet another of the very subtle ways Leigh Bardugo shows us that there is a lot more going on beneath the surface than we notice or that the characters have comprehended because it does!’t fit into the focus of the story. Whether or not Van Eck was planning on building his diplomacy towards Fjerda into an alliance or not (but I do want to add that the only other language he hired someone to teach his son was Fjerdan, so that may also be a hint), I definitely think that he was involved in something illegal to specifically be at the races in Caryeva. Like to vineyards or something for a trade deal, sure. But why, after going on and on about the questionable version of Ghezen he believes in and how the Barrel is a “den of filth” and calling gambling a “vice” and arguing with Kaz because he was offended when he said that speculating on the markets was a form of gambling, would Jan Van Eck be at Caryeva horse races?

Anyway I’ve been going on about this for way longer than I intended, hope this made some semblance of sense and thanks for reading

[callixton]

like sorry i got a taste of my ideal future only to have it immediately ripped away and treated as a joke and/or a conquest and sorry that that has had some lasting effects on me. didn’t feel good man

like. i have grown SO much in my understanding of myself and i would like to think as a person as well but also in some ways i think i have regressed sm in the past year. like i know what future feels right now and i do not regret the difficulty getting here bc of what it taught me but. man do i wish i didn’t feel so awful expressing that or living that

[so-long-soldier-writes]

drabble #10 - aphrodisiac

kai parker x reader

summary: you can only listen to damon ramble on for so long before you lose focus. unfortunately, this time, your zoning out manages to cause maximum embarrassment when the rest of the group follows your line of sight.

tags: pomegranates, references to greek mythology, teasing, flirting, embarrassment

word count: 936

a/n: i wrote this a little bit ago, and even though pomegranate season is over now (😭), i'm gonna post it bc i've been lagging recently!

“Elena, you’ll be here, with me, on the lookout in case he comes this way. Bonnie, you’ll be here, with Matt. Caroline, with Stefan. Kai, I only trust you with Y/N, and certainly not by yourself, and you two will be here.” With each delegation, Damon looks to the person for a nod of confirmation. Everyone’s given him one so far… except you. “Y/N? Are you listening?” 

Caroline lets out a giggle, knowing exactly where your attention has landed, and it’s definitely not on Damon’s plan. 

Damon looks over to the blonde, then to Elena, who also lets out a chuckle. “Y/N?” Stefan stifles a laugh. “Y/N…” He rolls his eyes. “Kai, can you stop plucking that pomegranate for one moment?!”

“How am I bothering you? You said I could eat it-”

“Just stop for a second!”

Startled, the boy puts down his fruit. He holds his hands above the napkin, not letting any juice drip onto the Salvatore’s thousand dollar rug. “Happy?”

“Shh! Y/N!”

You’re in a daze. Entranced. You can hear Damon talking, but none of his words register. Something much more interesting’s caught your eye: Kai. Specifically, Kai and his pomegranate that he’s been working on for the last five minutes. 

The juice looks like blood on his hands, dripping down his delicate fingers, staining his skin. He plucks out each seed individually, gently and skillfully, as he loosens them from the pith. He takes his earnings between his pink lips; you can see his jaw working against the crunch hidden inside.

You understand, now, why pomegranates are considered aphrodisiacs; how Hades captured his lover, luring her towards him by way of the fruit. 

You’re not sure when watching becomes staring, but at some point, it does. You’re not sure how long you’re staring before you attract quite the audience. 

Kai, of course, is too focused on his fruit to realize. That is, until Damon asks him to stop so that he can get your attention. Kai looks around the room, wondering why all eyes are on him, but then he notices they're all actually gazing on you. They’re watching you watch him. He’s confused, at first, then a little self-conscious, but then finds himself enthralled at the idea that you, of all people, are so focused on him. 

“Y/N!” Damon shouts and claps at the same time. 

You startle, jumping out of your trance and looking down at the carpet. You’re not sure when Kai stopped eating, but you quickly realize he had caught you staring at some point, and now you’re overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you say to no one in particular. Kai, mostly, maybe.

Sorry, I was completely daydreaming. Sorry, I was captivated by your fingers. Sorry, I was wondering what they’d feel like on my skin. On my…

“Y/N! Focus!”

“Shit! I’m sorry!”

“Damn, girl, you doing okay?” Caroline asks, amused. 

“Yeah… didn’t sleep a lot last night.”

“Oh that’s too bad.” She totally didn’t fall for that lie. You curse yourself in your head. “Did you hear Damon’s plan?”

“No.”

Kai’s gone back to his pomegranate. You force yourself to look away from him. 

“Y/N, you’ll be stationed with Kai,” he then mutters, “your little pomegranate buddy,” then, louder again, “because you’re the only one I trust with him, and I don’t trust him to be alone.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

You stare at the floor for the rest of his speech, trying desperately to not look back up at Kai’s pretty pink lips. 

~~~

By the end of the “meeting”, everyone’s places are announced and Damon’s satisfied with his decision making. You’ll all go after Lily tomorrow, and hopefully, if all goes well, she’ll be in the dungeons by the following morning. 

Sometime after he’s dismissed you, you search for Kai, feeling an intense need to apologize. Luckily, he’s over by the sink. When you reach him, he’s rubbing his hands and arms clean. The juice turns the soap, then the water pink, and his skin goes back to its usual shade.

“Hey,” you approach, somewhat out of the blue. 

He smiles at the sound of your voice. “Hi.”

“Sooo… we’re partners for Damon’s little plan.”

“Yep. If you ask me, it’s totally not gonna work.”

“His plans tend to be a hit or a miss.”

“Mhm? And which will this one be?” He jokes lightly.

You tap a finger to your chin. “Definitely a miss.” He chuckles, then nods at you for a paper towel, which you provide. “Hey, Kai? I’m, uh, I’m sorry for staring at you earlier. I was completely lost in another world.”

“No biggie. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Okay. But I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything…”

“You? Make me uncomfortable? Not possible. It’s not everyday you manage to get a pretty girl’s attention. Especially not when you’re eating the messiest thing in the world.”

The compliment - flirt? - speeds your heart up fast. It makes you admit the stupidest thing possible in the next couple of words. “Ah, well messy or not, you made it look hot.” Your eyes widen immediately. “I mean, like, you were- the fruit- I- um- shit.”

He chuckles. “Don’t sweat it, I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

“Okay,” you reply, voice small.

Kai stares at you for a moment, expression unreadable. Then, “well… see you tomorrow, Y/N. I gotta go find Damon and thank him for something.”

“Damon?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah… thank him for pairing me with the cutest girl in the gang.” He winks as he passes, and you just about die on the spot. 

[wickjump]

I’M SO GLAD THAT I’VE FOUND SOMEONE THAT ENJOYS CREPIC. THEREFORE YOU ARE GETTING A HC.

I’ve recently seen a trope somewhere that if partner A has noticeable scars, partner B will kiss them as a small romantic or comforting gesture. Ever since I’ve seen this trope I have not stopped thinking about crepic. IT FITS SO WELL???

Like, obviously Epic has the scar on his eye. His magic eye has caused him years of suffering and awful nightmares. It’s been nothing more to him than a burden. And the scar is just another reminder that he can never let go of everything that’s been done to him. But whatever, he’s gotten over it. But imagine Epic going over to Cross’ house for a sleepover, and late at night the two are just lying in Cross’ bed talking about something stupid, when their conversation suddenly turns more personal. This slowly leads to Epic opening up about how much of a struggle it is to live with his eye. Of course, he doesn’t go too much into detail, since he was never really one to speak about his personal life.

And Cross can’t help but feel so guilty for his poor best friend after listening to him talk about how much pain he had to endure for so long. Epic keeps insisting that he’s fine and that it’s not a big deal, but Cross wants to give the person he cares about so much the desperate comfort he needs. One way leads to another and Cross ends up leaning over and kissing the scar on Epic’s eye while gently cupping his face or something. (bonus points if Cross also kisses the scars on Epic’s hands). AND EPIC WOULD PROB BE HOLDING BACK TEARS THE ENITRE TIME BUT WOUDL EVENTUALLY CRAKC CUZ SOMEONE ACTUALLY FINDS BEAUTY IN HIS INSECURITIES AND UHHUHGH.

I’m so ashamed that this became a huge rant when it didn’t need to be 🙏🙏 (But seriously I’m so starved of crepic that it’s becoming torturous. I need to be fed more fanfics bc there’s only 30 on ao3. Nsfw or not I need to be fed.)

WEEPING CRYING YES!!!!!!!!!! epic is so ignored in crepic fics mostly because people don’t bother to read his au’s comic (it’s… a long one… so i get it lmfao), and i might be one of those people though not because a lack of adoration for his canon but because cross is my favorite idiot and epic is hard to write. BUT!!!!!! I LIKE THIS A LOT.

scar kissing can go one of two ways, very very good, or very very bad. personally if anyone tried to kiss my scars they’d get clocked, but it depends for the character (and person). some people think it’s cringe worthy, other people think it’s sweet. EYE SCARS HOWEVER? OH HO HO. THOSE NEED TO BE KISSED RIGJT FUCKIJG NOW… ABSOLUTELY YES. epic’s whole eye ordeal like ruined his life and made him damn near suicidal. i haven’t read the side comics in a little while for epic but iirc when he’s killed he thinks something along the lines of ‘isnt this what ive been waiting for?’ or something? could be wrong idk i haven’t read it in a few months. but either way that eye, and that scar as a reminder, really fucked him up. and epic’s the kind of guy to gloss over that entirely. but cross is an overthinker at his core so when he catches wind of this it’s going to be on his mind forever probably.

i love. i love the idea that cross just holds epic’s face and kisses his scars. holy shit i love that so much. dear god. he absolutely should get to do that. cross cares sososo much about epic but epic never tells him anything!!! so when cross gets a whiff of his internal turmoil he is gonna DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!! and epic is gonna FEEL EMOTIONS!!!!!!

I LOVE characters cupping someone’s face while kissing them while paying mind to their traumas and letting them know that you treasure them and and and combusts into a superbillion molecules

goddd this idea. /pos. AND YOURE SO REAL ABOUT THE FIC THING THEY SHOULD HAVE MORE FICS LIKE??? WHAT???!!!!! there’s barely any fics out there for them compared to so many other ships. every night i pray that i wake up and someone dropped a 200k+ word slow burn crepic ‘forbidden’ (because cross’ job and epic’s residence) romance best friends to lovers au fic. but those prayers always go unanswered. ive scoured the entire site for them, ive started going to WATTPAD, DAMNIT!!!!!!!!! bleh. i don’t even care about ratings or tags anymore as long as it’s consensual and legal im fine please give me more content with them 🙏

[7ndipity]

When Their Crush Has a Crush

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: In connection with the Secret Crush HCs, how they would react/get jealous to finding out that their crush has feelings for someone(or even another member)

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! We’re back with more of that unrequited angst that y’all apparently love lol! This also kinda reminded me of this jealousy reaction I made awhile back, so there’s that if you want to check those out too!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

Oh, he HATES it. And does not hide it, though he’s giving you five different reasons why he hates it, and none of them are the truth, at least not entirely.

“They don't strike me as the relationship type.” “I think they might be a murderer.” “They’re just not good enough for you.”

Tries to make himself look better in comparison.

But he’s not trying to make a move! Nonono, he would never do that. He just wants you to know what a better option looks like.

Yeah, that’s it.🙄

Yoongi:

Tries to not let it bother him, and by that I mean he’s like “of-course-you-would-find-someone-why-wouldn’t-you?-it’s-not-like-he-ever-told-you-how-he-felt-but-it’s-totally-fine-and-not-haunting-his-every-waking-moment-but-omg-what-if-you-actually-get-with-them-”

Yeah, no, he’s going to majorly overthink the whole situation, like it’s bad.

Would probably withdraw for a bit, but then realizes that he can’t stand the distance and gets kinda clingy.

Which clingy Yoongi is like? A whole different person?

This would probably be one of the few moments that would tip you off about his true feelings.

Hobi:

Tries not to be bothered at first, bc it’s just a crush, it doesn’t mean anything… Right?

Queue him getting in his head and starting to worry about literally everything.

Throws so much side eye though and knit picks whoever's caught your attention, but he can’t quite help it.

Would end up slipping up and saying something about he doesn’t think they’re a good match for you. Which leads to you asking who would be a good match for you then?

And then he either just says idk, or ends up basically describing himself and hoping you don’t notice how desperately he’s trying not to confess right then and there.

Namjoon:

Gets jealous super easily, you already know, though you don’t quite know why.

As I said before, if you so much as even mention being into somebody, he’s pulling back and distancing himself a bit as a kind of defense mechanism.

Or else he tries to avoid being around them or bringing them up in conversation, though he’ll deny that’s what he’s doing if you ask.

Is so fucking passive aggressive about anything relationship related, you end up thinking that he must’ve got dumped or smth and feeling kinda bad for him.

Which ends up triggering this weird sort of truce between you where you just don’t talk about it for a while.

Jimin:

Lowkey panicking inside. Because yeah, hypothetically he wants you to be happy and live your best life, but does it have to be with them? Or anyone?

Would want to try to dissuade your feelings for them a bit, but he doesn’t want to come off as manipulative or disrespectful of your opinion.

“They don’t seem like a good match for you.”

He’s mostly kinda mad at himself, cause if he’d just told you how he felt earlier, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Would probably start seriously considering actually confessing, cause he cannot stand being in this weird limbo state with you.

Taehyung:

Ngl, he’s so dramatic, even if it’s just a tiny crush, he’s going to be kinda heartbroken, like you might as well have kissed them in front of him.

Okay, maybe it’s not that bad, but you get what I’m saying. He’s not cool with this.

Does not hide his feelings of disdain for whoever’s caught your attention.(they are not passing the vibe check)

Gets hella clingy and wants to be with you constantly, so that you don’t really have time for them? If that even makes sense?

Tries to find things to impress you and get you to take notice of him cause don’t you think he’s nice too? Don’t you think he’d make a good partner too?

Jungkook:

The sulkiest man to ever exist.

He can not stand it, even if it's a purely theoretical situation, like all you said was that you thought some guy was cute, and now he’s imagining all the worst case scenarios where he could lose you to them.

Like Tae, he’d get soo fucking possessive and clingy, trying to prove himself to you, though he might not exactly be sure what he’s trying to prove.

Would actively try to put himself between you and them if at all possible.

As I said before, this would probably be his achilles heel that pushes him over the edge and leads to him confessing, even if he knows it’s the wrong time.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @captainorangegoose @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Norton Campbell

I'm starting off the writing blog with some of these character analysis-esque headcanons! (Starting with Norton bc he's honestly the reason I made this blog.) They'll serve both as practice for me, and examples for any readers on how I write different characters.

Again, I am new to the IDV fandom, and I have never played the game. These headcanons are informed by ongoing lore dives sourcing the wiki, japanese twitter responses, comics, stageplay, and more! Some of these may relate to or even contradict character backstory, and some of them are just pure vibes for me. If you like it, consider shooting a request ;)

-Norton had always been a moodier guy, but the mining accident (and the lack of mental and emotional support he received after it) resulted in a much more obvious split of his temperaments. Without trying to put a name to something I’m no expert in, Norton has two distinct personality states which are both aware of and inform one another. The First is the more common state, wherein he is more level-headed, but prone to melancholy and isolation. His melancholy tends to be more intense after an episode with his Second state, wherein he is very likely to exhibit anger, mania, and cynicism. Likewise, his Second state tends to be more critical when he’s been uneventfully mellow for a good while. He tries his best to balance and regulate the two, but this particular emotional roller coaster is one he never had any say in getting on and has never had any assistance getting off.

-The First state typically lasts longer than the Second, sometimes stretching several days at a time. During the First, he’s at his most amicable and chatty. This is the best time to get to know him as a person.

-When in his Second state, which is usually triggered by something that reminds him of the accident, it’s better to give him a wide berth. Even in the case of a friend or partner who has thick skin and handles harshness well, Norton can become hypercritical of himself for being cruel to them.

-His mother died in childbirth, leaving Norton with only his father, who also worked himself to an early grave. Norton had to start working immediately to keep himself fed (and sometimes didn’t even manage that) so he has next to no education. He does not read or write especially well. He is also not particularly tech savvy and struggles with new concepts. That said, he's never been one to back down from a chance to improve himself, difficult or otherwise.

-Norton was mostly genuine in his visits to the elderly and sick. Many of them were other miners and laborers who helped him find his footing after his dad died. Their help may not have amounted to much in the long run, but they didn’t just look the other way and he understood the loneliness they felt on their deathbeds.

-The one exception to this was Benny, who Norton had also once looked upon in an appreciative light…until he learned how to read. It was then that he scoured his father’s old letters and discovered an infuriating truth: after the birth of Norton and the death of his mother, his father had been about to leave the mining industry. Benny was the one who convinced him to stick around and join the obsessive hunt for gold. It was through a mix of spite and desperation that Norton decided to swindle Benny out of his maps and take the chance at riches for himself.

-Norton does not talk about the mining accident. At all. Not even if he’s paid. Part of it is self-preservation—since he IS the one who stole and illegally ignited the explosives. The other part is that he is well and truly wrecked with guilt. Norton did not get along with most of his coworkers in those final days, was bullied and harassed by them, but he wanted to get ahead of them, not kill them.

-Because he’s been self-reliant from such a young age, he’s naturally distrustful of other people. He has trouble accepting people at face value and often rejects compliments, and other words of affection. He’s the embodiment of “actions speak louder than words.” In general, if someone wants to get closer to Norton they have to put their money (and their labor) where their mouth is and show a lot of patience. Any genuine relationship with Norton is hard-won.

-In line with the above, the best love language to give Norton is Acts of Service. Physical Affection would also work well once you reach a certain threshold in his trust. Gift-Giving is a decent third, but you would need to tread lightly here, lest he start to see the budding relationship as purely transactional. Holidays and birthdays are the best time to really go in on gifts for Norton, since he has a harder time arguing bribery with culturally dictated gifts.

-He genuinely does not find himself to be attractive. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s insecure, as he really doesn’t think about it much, but he’s least likely to accept compliments about his appearance. The burn scars certainly don’t help. If you do compliment his appearance, it’s better not to mention the scars at all than to try and make him feel better about them.

-He wholly, genuinely, hates the rich. Which is obvious enough, I suppose, but I think it’s more extreme than people give him credit for. And really it just comes down to unadulterated jealousy and bitterness, which are not easy feelings to overcome.

-Norton is of the opinion that all life is equal—and when he’s at his most cynical, this means he’s willing to take the balance of “an eye for an eye” into his own hands.

-His sweet tooth is limited to donuts and a few other carb-y baked goods. He prefers savory flavors, or sometimes bitter, such as in the case of his black coffee. He doesn’t eat as much as you might expect for his size, but he always eats quickly, and hunched over his food like it’ll be taken away. Old habits die hard.

-He has a terrible sleep schedule, due in part to frequent nightmares about the accident. He’s also somewhat claustrophobic and dislikes pitch-black spaces, so a window is a must in his bedroom. He prefers to have it open whenever reasonable.

-He doesn’t do well with thunderstorms, as the rumbles of thunder sound too much like the beginnings of a cave-in.

-If he has one singular strength, it’s perseverance. Hardships don’t deter him because he’s seen and overcome plenty. He’s a loyal friend as well, once completely won over. If he cares for you, you’ll never have to tackle a hurdle alone.