#Do people genuinely struggle with hands?? I mean I still do at times - especially closed fists or certain angles

[the-modern-typewriter]

Your work inspires me so much! Could I request a villain x hero where they’re both mutually in love but the villain, is very much a villain and murders people and the hero feels betrayed, and hates the fact they still love the villain (bonus for the villain doing it out of jealousy 🥺💕) don’t feel pressured to write this ofc! Thank you for taking the time to read and have a good day / evening and thank you for the content you produce ❤️

The hero scrubbed harder at their hands when they heard the bathroom door open behind them. Their shoulders tensed. Their jaw locked.

They didn't look up at the mirror.

"You're upset," the villain said, finally.

The hero snarled, wordlessly. Their skin was beginning to look flayed. Red from the hot water. Clean. Not clean enough.

"You know who I am," the villain pressed. "You know what I'm capable of. I've never hid it, never pretended to be something other than what I am."

"You killed them."

"I've killed before."

"Oh, well. That makes it all so much better then, doesn't it?"

The villain stepped closer. They gently took hold of the hero's wrist with one hand and firmly closed the tap with the other.

The hero whirled, wrenching back and shoving.

Part of them expected the villain to instantly lunge; slam them right back against a wall, leaving the two of them struggling. It was worse that the villain immediately put their hands up in placating, 'okay, I won't touch you', surrender.

It was too damn reasonable.

The villain's expression, through the blurry fury of the hero's tears, was too damn concerned.

The hero swiped at their cheeks, teeth practically bared. "Fuck you."

"Oh, I wish that was the mood, right now."

"You killed them because you were jealous."

The villain's head tilted.

"Don't deny it," the hero snapped.

"I wasn't denying thing. Outside of a court of law, I rarely do."

"This isn't a joke!"

"I wasn't joking, love."

"Don't call me that!"

The villain folded their arms across the chest, and for a moment the hero thought they might walk out and come back later 'after the hero had calmed down'. They leaned back against the bathroom door instead, shutting it.

The hero gulped. They took a step closer, fists raised - wanting to - needing to - they ended up hurling their shaking hands back to their sides.

"You know," their voice cracked. "I defend you to people. Did you know that? I tell them that you're not so bad. Ruthless, yeah, but you're not a monster. You have a code. You love me."

"I do love you, which is why I would never ask you to defend me."

"Like that's the point here!"

"Then what is the point?" the villain asked. Calm. Implacable.

"You're better than this. You're supposed to be better. You don't just - just kill people. Not because of me."

"Ah." The villain's gaze flicked down the hero's arms. "You feel you have blood on your hands."

"No. That's not it."

"Isn't it?"

"It's about you being morally reprehensible."

"Yeah, but we knew I was morally reprehensible, didn't we? Just as we both know I pretend otherwise sometimes when I can make it easy for you."

The hero made a strangled sound. Even if they did know that. Especially because they knew that.

The villain shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, it's not your fault. Yes, I was jealous that you were spending a lot of time fighting them. But on the other hand, they were also a morally reprehensible person, so really if I'm going to kill anyone it should be the people like me. I thought you'd be pleased."

"Pleased?!"

"Well, that I'm channelling my violent tendencies in a societally friendly way. You wanted to stop them too. Does the end not justify the means?"

The hero stared at them, aghast. They genuinely weren't sure if the villain was joking or not. They did not look like they were joking.

"I hate you," the hero said. "So much."

"Yes."

"That's all you have to say? Yes?"

"I'm not an easy creature to love," the villain said, softly. "Of course you hate me sometimes. Otherwise loving me would be unbearable."

"It is unbearable."

Some of the calm slipped from the villain's face; a flinch of pain.

it didn't make the hero feel better. It just made their hands feel more bloodied, more like the villain's hands. Hurting things.

"You know," the villain said. "You're not easy either. I limit my nature a lot for you. I compromise for you all the time."

"It's not a compromise when my demand is asking you not to kill people!"

"I've never asked you to stop risking your life to save people."

"That's not the same thing!"

"Hurts the same amount.," the villain said quietly.

The hero didn't know what to say to that. The two of them stared at each other from across the bathroom, the hero still shaking violently. "I don't want to do this right now," they managed to say, and it was only a little wobbly. "I can't deal with you right now."

"I wanted to check you're alright."

"Yeah? I'm not."

The villain bit their lip. "I really didn't think you'd react this badly. I wouldn't have done it if I thought it would upset you this much."

The hero closed their eyes, because it was true and it was terrible. Another treacherous tear spilled over their cheek. They dashed it away.

"What do you need?" the villain asked. "You should have water or you'll get a headache."

"I want you to leave."

"Are you going to put your hands under the tap again if I leave?"

The hero glared at them.

The villain's defences were back up again, so they merely raised an eyebrow. "I'll be outside, then."

"I thought you were better," the hero said. "You were supposed to be better."

The villain paused, one hand on the door, considering that perhaps.

"No," they said, after a moment, like the hero was the one who had committed some great and grave betrayal. "You just started pretending."

They shut the door behind them.

[kykyonthemoon]

hiiiiii i love the stories you make. Can you please make rafayel x ballerina reader where reader gets taken care of by rafayel after accidently twisting her ankle during practice?? tyyy 💗💗💗💗💗

Dear Anon-san,

Thank you so much for your request. I also apologize that it took a while to finally get to you. Hope you enjoy this piece, and I'm looking forward to your continued support <3

His Little Ballerina

── .✦ Rafayel x Female Reader|MC

── .✦ Tags: soft, sweet, physical hurt/comfort, fluff, healing, reader is a ballerina

── .✦ Word count: over 1k

── .✦ Ky Ky's note: This is also my first fic after being accepted into oracleofstars network. Yay!!!

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

When he came to pick you up at the hospital, Rafayel's face was already so pale.

Long story short, he had just received a text from you stating that you were at a hospital near your place and needed a ride home. You had accidently fallen while executing a simple pirouette, causing your ankle to twist. Rafayel crossed his arms as he watched you sit there with a swollen ankle, his countenance confusing..

"You can yell at me after you drop me off, okay?" You said. But he did not seem any content. You knew he was genuinely concerned about you, especially after he told you over and over that you were unable to practice ballet right away since you were still a bit unwell.

He had met you for the first time after your play. While everyone was praising your charm, Rafayel was the only one who pointed out the problem with your ankle.

For a Lemurian, witnessing your struggle while dancing reminded him of the agony a merman must go through when he abandons his tail to learn to walk on land. 

Therefore, you totally understood his response when he saw you were constantly getting injured on the practice floor. You did not defy Rafayel, but you felt awful for causing him so much tension.

“You only listen to me when you're in trouble, right?”

Even though he grumbled, Rafayel helped you up, holding your bag and pointe shoes on one shoulder. When he saw your few struggling steps, he winced. Then, he leant down and picked you up. 

"Eh? Rafael?! Put me down.”

Your face turned red. However, Rafayel continued to carry you in his arms and walk away. He said:

"You heard what the doctor said; from now on, you must rest and let me care for you. That means I shall become your legs.”

“But… Is it necessary to carry me like this? You can just give me a piggyback ride…”

Rafayel shook his head: “I won't do so. Carrying you like that would make me seem no less like a turtle!”

You sighed and gave up. You allowed Rafayel to take you to the hospital gate in front of a large crowd. You felt so embarrassed while he kept that serious expression on his face.

You expected him to stop carrying you after you left the hospital, but Rafayel walked instead of calling a taxi. You rolled your eyes and asked:

“Are you going to carry me all the way home?”

Rafayel took a short peek at you before returning his attention to the road ahead. “Your place is nearby. We can walk home.”

You shifted your body somewhat uncomfortably. Rafayel's arms closed around you even more. You nestled myself into his neck and whispered: "People are looking..."

At that moment, a child who had just left the candy store noticed you and Rafayel. She asked:

“Miss! Are you a princess?”

Rafayel's footsteps slowed down a bit so the child could keep up. That was when you discovered you were still wearing your tutu with a flared skirt. People from the studio took you to the hospital; however, because they were busy and knew Rafayel was on his way, they departed right away. 

"So, you must really be a princess to be carried like that, right?" The small girl inquired innocently again. 

Rafayel came to a complete halt. He grinned at her and said:

"Correct, kiddo. She is a princess.”

You used a hand to hit him on the shoulder and said to the child:

"No, no. It's not true. I'm not a princess..."

But it seemed that the child ignored those words. She noticed your twisted ankle and asked:

“Is Her Highness injured?” 

"Yup." Rafayel responded on your behalf. “She just fought a terrible monster, and it injured her ankle.”

The child's eyes were glowing, as if she really believed Rafayel's narrative. She spoke again:

"What a pity! So you came to rescue the princess? Are you her prince?”

Your cheeks felt heated. Perhaps it was because the sun beamed in this way. You were ready to urge Rafayel to stop teasing the child, but perhaps he, too, was caught up in this fabricated setting. 

“A prince? I am not a prince.”

“So who are you?”

Rafayel smirked, he said while looking at you, as if those words were just for your:

“I am the God of the Sea. I am her God of the Sea."

“Whoaaaaaa!” The child cheered, and you held your breath as you caught Rafayel smile at you. The sunshine appeared to cast an aura over him. You could only adore him silently, fearing that a single breath might cause him to vanish. 

At that moment, the girl's mother summoned her back. She placed a little bag of sweets on your lap, atop your flowery skirt, and declared:

"For you, Your Highness. Perhaps you need them more than I do. I pray Your Highness gets better soon!"

After saying that, she ran away. You just had time to say thank you, almost like a shout behind her.

Rafayel grinned all the way home, and you felt happy with simply a bag of sugary treats. You poked his cheek.

"See how delighted you are. She handed me candies; you won't be getting any of them!"

“So unfair!” Rafayel yelled as he kept strolling down the pavement while holding you in his arms. “I'm having a hard time carrying you home. How come you're so blind to see it?”

“Then why did you walk home instead of taking a taxi?” You softly pinched his face and noted the way he pouted.

“I'm exhausted, and dehydrated. Yet you're far from being gentle with me after all!”

You giggled and replied, “You just told that kid I am a princess. So you must serve me in the next few days, right?”

Rafayel did not respond. You figured he was reluctant to confess you had him in the palm of your hand, even if this was not something new for either of you.

“If you stay silent, it means you agree.” You said cheerfully. “Come on, my God of the Sea! I want to go home and have seafood for dinner!” 

Rafayel exhaled. “I give you an inch, you will take the whole yard.” However, he still smiled pleasantly. The afternoon sun imprinted both of you on the road, while your shadow just kissed his, on the cheek.

Mood board from my photo in game & Pinterest.

[squiddy-god]

I saw chainsaw man was in your fandom list so could I request Denji realizing he’s falling for a guy for the first time? He gives me chaotic bi guy vibes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ♥︎ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ok so as a chaotic bi guy myself i clocked denji day one- i also decided to do this as hcs because i have so many thoughts- its me, the bisexuality devil lmao 

♥︎request are open ♥︎

Cw : slight suggestive bits (chainsaw man lvls),so canon typical levels of nsfw. STILL SFW NO SMUT IN THIS,  BI DENJI SUPREMACY, bi panic and maybe a bit of heteronormativity, simping.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ♥︎ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Denji is the poster boy for chaotic bi panic 

The thing that most people, especially in the series itself don't realize is that denjis goal isn't just to have sex and touch boobs, it to live a normal life because he has been so deprived of any basics and normality 

But denji struggles in realizing that he's in love with a dude, a man, a guy, a homie. 

It probably happens because you are genuinely nice to him- my boy has standards so low it trips the devils 

At first he thinks your just his best bud, his greatest pal- it's totally normal that he thinks about you so much, that he really likes holding your hand, that he gets excited like a puppy when he knows hes going to see you again

It's perfectly normal how much time he spends in your apartment- like he basically lives there

Power is about to actually kill him if he mentions you one more time she's so sick of it

Never once does it ever cross his mind that he might be into guys too (boobs are boobs tbh)

He is over at your apartment so much that it isn't uncommon for him to just,,,let himself in (you said you don't mind 

Denji is already kinda a mess, he's a nervous wreck when it comes to a lot of romance stuff (we love a boy failure) so he's already pretty chaotic even before he realizes that he's absolutely simping for you 

But his crush is so obvious its hitting “if s/o was a girl id totally be into him, like smash- like my girlfriend” levels of denial

And he's not fooling anyone 

He starts to slowly realize that having dreams about your best friend, and having to continuously correct the dreams so that one of you is the girl, isn't just being close friends 

He really panics when he thinks he might be gay- he doesn't really know being bi is an option but is relieved to find that out lmao 

He decides to make sure by looking at magazines featuring men, other media etc to make sure you aren't just some glitch- and nope hes bi 

“Boobs are boobs” ahh reasoning- genuinely he is not picky lmao (chaos bi) 

Despite this he still claims that you are just his best bud, his pal, chum, homie, compadre, friend, home slice etc. 

Until the incident 

And by that I mean he saw you practically naked- he had let himself into your apartment like normal, honestly he probably planned on casually coming out- not confessing! afterall you were just his friend (delusional) 

But as he's sitting in your living room he here's the door open down the hall, when he speaks his head out he's frozen in place because daymn. There you are with wet hair and just a towel around your waist- and denji panics big time- when i say he literally flees your apartment i mean it. 

And that was really what he needed, because this starts his downward spiral of realizing that he has indeed fallen for you and has massive crush on you

He realizes that this is honestly one of his first crushes in general because denji struggles with his emotions and figuring out the different types of affection, hell even the lines between romantic attraction and sexual attraction he really struggles 

But he (and everyone else) is positive that this isn't just him realizing he is into guys, but that he genuinely wants to do all the normal couple stuff with you

Like yes denjis thoughts can be sexual but the biggest thing he struggles with is that he feels all warm and mushy at the thought of calling you his boyfriend and having a normal relationship. 

Power is yalls #1 hater btw, not that she doesnt support you but it's that she is sick of denji just fumbling the bag 

She gags whenever he mentions you lmao, watching denji fumble around his thoughts and feelings is painful because he is so awkward 

I firmly believe in BI denji supremacy, he is such a bisexual disaster

[sethdomain]

C!tommy headcanon bc why not

-Shit eye sight, from years of living in a condition that forced him to be around ash, explosion and fire, I think it would definitely damaged his vision greatly. Its not to say he went full-time blind, he can still see but its blurry as shit. Maybe, it can also affect from his genetics too.

It starts out tiny, I think in pogtopia arc he has neargsight but its still not that bad, if he were to get glasses he would need 0.5 minus glass. He would occasionally be seen squinting sometimes as if he has trouble seeing something in the distance.

It became worse after exile, because of c!dream constantly bombing his item in front of him some of the ash constantly attacked his eye. So after he ran away from exile he now obtain the worse fucked up eye ever, he’s now farsighted, nearsighted and need plus, minus and cilindered glass. At this point c!tommy supposed to have glass but he’s like traumatized n shit and most people doesnt really payed that much attention. So most of the time he just glares n shit.

I think he would receive glasses when he’s either hanging out with sam or tubbo, both of them are like builder n close to him i think they can give tommy glasses. But i suppose Tubbo would be more keen on making him one since Sam is busy with prison stuff and need to pay 90% of his attention towards it.

I think his ass would genuinely be fucking happy when he finally get glasses, like thank fucking god i dont have to have a huge motherfucking headache anymore from squinting my eye too hard.

-twitchy hand, i think its some sort of trauma scarring from all the battle he fought. I think the tremors would be an occasional twitch here and there, but after c!tommy got his head bashed by c!dream his hand tremors got worse where simply doing stuff like picking a spoon up became very hard for him.

I think, c!tommy would kind of need to do physical theraphy after prison arc on helping rewiring back his motor skills with his hand nerves.

-I think post-dsmp(this is in my head where they managed to kill c!drm) c!tommy would get slapped hard by his mentall illness, especially deppression. Like he just shut down and dont do anything and hid away from everyone. You know that feeling of just hollowness, yeah i think after all of that he would just feel very estranged and felt nothing.

He should be happy! He finally have peace but why doesn’t he wanna do anything? Why does his bone felt like its made of metals and he’s nothing but a sagging slump of meat. He can finally do anything without dream breathing down his necks why? Why cant i do anything?

-I think he copes by doing drugs, i mean the invis pot is deffo a not subtle way that c!tommy struggles with addiction now. I like to think he started with just drinking invis pot to inevitably trying out drinking, substances and stuff. I think c!Tubbo would try to stop him though because he can’t bear thinking his best friend would go off the same path as c!schlatt

[foliosriot]

THE DRAIN ♱ CHAPTER TWO

noah sebastian x ofc (grey)

SUMMARY!!

the concrete jungle is incredibly dangerous and a scary place to live. but grey has made it her mission to provide whatever light and aid she can in such a dark place. even if it means catching the attention of someone at the top of the food chain.

WARNINGS!!

stalking if you squint ig. mentions of bl00d. brief mention of ab*se.

TAGS!!

@concretenoah @circle-with-me @malice-ov-mercy @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople @cncohshit @lilhobgobbler @bngurngheart

masterlist. the drain masterlist.

It’s been about a week since Vivian discovered the note, and Grey has been panicking every moment of every day.

Every corner she turns she fears someone will reach out of the shadows and drag her away. She fears leaving her apartment, and even turning on the Angel’s Light every night like she is used to. She doesn’t want to make the target on her back even bigger.

But, as expected, the fear and panic is always drowned out by Grey’s need to care for the Concrete Jungle’s occupants. Her need to help as many people as she possibly can will always be stronger than her own terror or anxiety.

Even now, as she goes about her nightly routine by helping anyone who is drawn in by the comforting glow of the Christmas lights, Grey can’t help but feel like she is being watched. And the feeling isn’t coming from the last couple people resting on the fire escape. No, it’s coming from somewhere else. But from where, she can’t tell, as the night has taken hold of the city and darkness overwhelms everything in its wake.

“Make sure you find somewhere safe to sleep tonight.” Grey is currently helping wrap the arm of a boy who had sliced it open after jumping over a broken fence as he ran from his abuser. “But there is a shelter a few blocks that way if you’d rather do that, okay?”

The boy looks up at her, his fluffy orange-red hair falling into his eyes. Tear stains run all the way down his ruddy face and disappear under his jaw.

“Thank you, Angel,” the boy, Jace, murmurs in a broken voice.

“Oh, no, no need to thank me,” she replies with an awkward smile. The nickname has always rubbed her the wrong way for some reason. But still, she resists the urge to correct her patients who call her that, especially now. “This is what I love to do. I love helping others.”

Jace looks like he wants to say more but bites his tongue instead.

Grey finishes helping him and lets him go on his way with a plastic water bottle and a small bag that contains a granola bar, an apple, and a string cheese. He thanks her one more time before he shimmies his way down the fire escape, and hurries in the direction of the shelter Grey had mentioned.

The final patient of the night, Georgie, hobbles towards Grey. Georgie is one of her regulars, a homeless man in his fifties who happens to be one of the sweetest people Grey has ever had the pleasure to meet. He says he has a shelter of his own somewhere close by, but only comes to her when he struggles to find food for himself and his dog. His dog, Cleo, sleeps soundly at the foot of the fire escape.

“Hi, Georgie,” Grey greets him with a genuine smile. She reaches behind her to grab one of those little food bags, like she had just given to Jace. But she also fills another one of those bags with some dog food and a few chunks of chicken.

“Hiya, Grey,” Georgie says with a lopsided grin. He looks thinner every time she sees him, so it’s nothing new to see. But there’s something about this visit that tells Grey he’s not doing well.

“How are you doing?” Grey asks him, handing him the bags of food and two water bottles. “Find any cool sticks recently?”

“Can’t find a single damn stick worth adding to my collection these days,” Georgie huffs, his tone annoyed but clearly joking.

Grey chuckles lightly. “Then you haven’t tried Miracle Park,” she tells him. “I took a walk down there a few weeks ago and some mighty fine sticks that I know Cleo would love to fetch.”

The whole reason Georgie collects cool sticks in the first place is to play with Cleo. Cleo loves playing fetch, and since Georgie doesn’t have the money to buy her any real dog toys, he scours the city in search of the best sticks he can find. And Cleo loves joining him on his journey.

“Is that so?” Georgie hums to himself. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind. Well, thank ya, Grey!”

“Any time. Stay safe.”

Grey watches as Georgie fumbles his way down the fire escape slowly. He manages to get back to the sidewalk, and Cleo rises at his presence. The dog happily wags her tail and follows after her person down the concrete.

Grey smiles to herself watching them go. She’s glad to see Georgie with a smile, because there are times when she has seen him frowning and unable to joke with her. So it always warms her heart whenever he is so jovial and happy.

Once Georgie and Cleo vanish into the night Grey gathers her things. She goes to turn off the Angel’s Light and her spine tingles with that same sensation from earlier.

Someone is watching her.

Eager to get back inside and go to bed, Grey makes her way through the open window and begins putting all of her supplies away as fast as she can. A light breeze blows into the bedroom while she finishes up.

“I gotta hand it to ya, this whole setup you have going on is pretty impressive.”

The sudden voice nearly scares Grey out of her skin. She whips around, the box of gauze still in her hands. Fear immediately sluices through her at the sight of another person standing over by the very open window. Judging by just the voice and body she assumes it’s a man. He’s covered head-to-toe in black clothing, including the balaclava that obscures his face. She can barely make out his pale skin that is half hidden by the coat hood pulled up over his head.

“Who are you?” Grey hisses, even though she is terrified out of her mind. This masked stranger standing in her father’s old bedroom with her has planted her to the very spot she stands. And right about now, she really wishes the bowie knife wasn’t on the other side of the room.

The man has one of her many medical encyclopedias in his gloved hands. He flips through it lazily without acknowledging Grey.

Grey’s hands are trembling as she watches the man close the thick book and put it back on the bookshelf in front of him. He steps away and wanders around the room at a leisurely pace, ignoring Grey’s presence.

“You’ve made this into your very own triage room, haven’t you?” he muses. He strides by the blood pressure machine that is drilled in to the wall, another shelf stacked to the brim with various medical supplies, and the old bed frame and mattress she had converted into a proper hospital bed, white sheets and everything. “Like I said, impressive.”

The man sits down in the armchair. Then he’s reaching behind it and the bowie knife is in his hand. Grey curses herself as her heart is pounding wildly from inside her ribcage, making her pulse throb almost painfully. Her veins are on fire as she watches him with the eyes of a hawk. Every single one of her instincts are screaming at her to do something.

But what?

“Who are you?” Grey repeats with a shaking voice. “And what are you doing here?”

Grey watches as the man relaxes in the chair, his legs spreading wide like he owns the fucking place. He rolls his neck with a sigh before speaking.

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” he says, almost in a bored tone. He twirls the knife in his hand. “But what I’m doing here does matter. I’m here about that note you got. I come alone.”

Shit.

Is this one of those people Vivian had warned her about? Someone part of that violent gang that basically controls the entire city?

Grey can feel a panic attack brewing from just below her sternum.

“W-What note?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know the note I’m talking about.” He turns his face towards her. “I have a message.”

The man rises to his feet, the knife still in-hand. He slowly approaches Grey and ends up backing her into the wall behind her. Her grip tightens on the box of gauze the moment he halts. And god, he towers over her by at least a foot. But now she can see his eyes, and they are the blackest pits with an unknown light from within.

“There are others coming after you.” He speaks so softly his words are nearly inaudible. “What you provide the Concrete Jungle is valuable, and we know that. They know that.”

“What?”

Grey surprises herself with the sheer terror and shakiness of her own voice. There are more people coming after her? But why? What could she possibly offer to be considered so valuable?

The masked man continues to stare down at her for a few more seconds before vacating her personal space. He begins making his way back towards the window.

“Consider this protection,” he tells her from over his shoulder, his voice no longer so quiet. “With me being here like this, it tells others I’m laying claim. So you should be fine for the time being. Just don’t do anything brash or that would catch their attention even more, alright?”

“W-Wait, what?! What the fuck are you talking about?”

Grey continues to throw question after question at this mysterious man, but he keeps ignoring her until he is stood outside on the fire escape. He looks back at her, now that she is only a few feet away from the window.

“Keep an eye out. I’ll be around.”

And without another word, the man jumps from the fire escape and disappears down the dark street below.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

♱ foliosriot 2024

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Gaps 2

Platonic Yandere Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This work is a yandere work, hopefully part of a series, as as such will contain themes of manipulation, abuse, violence and obsession. This specific work contains drugging. Stay safe, and enjoy!!

“(Y/N), maybe you should stay at the Manor for the night. It’s coming down pretty hard out there.” Bruce comments, passing you a warm mug. You curl your fingers around the mug, enjoying the heat seeping into your hands, and glance outside. It was pouring, yeah, but nothing beyond what was standard for Gotham.

“Bruce, I’ve driven in this sort of weather hundreds of times.” You point out, even as you curl up on the soft couch. The large man sits next to you, a touch too close for your comfort, and takes a sip from his own mug. The bitter smell makes your nose wrinkle, and you glance at the cup of black coffee. You much preferred your hot chocolate.

“Still. I’d rather you not have to. Just for the night? Alfred can drop you off at work, if you need him too.” Bruce cajoles gently. He turns on the TV, to some drama or soap opera you don’t recognize, and you sigh, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

There’s a strange aftertaste you can’t quite place. You wonder if Alfred changed the recipe.

“Bruce, please. Let’s not do this.” You plead, absolutely exhausted. Emotionally and mentally. You adored the Wayne’s, you really did, but they tended to treat you like you were younger than you were, constantly hovering and fretting. “I know you worry but I need you to trust me.”

He doesn’t respond for a bit, and when he does, he leans forward, eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

“It’s not you I don’t trust, (Y/N). You know that.”

You take another gulp of hot chocolate, hoping the sweetness will wash down the bitter words coming to your mouth, but you let the man continue. The fire casts his face into something intense, something almost other, and you watch as the shadows seemingly twist and dance around him.

“I just… everyone in the family worries, (Y/N). You’re very important to all of us, and we worry that something might happen to you when you’re away. Especially with how much you struggle with your memory.”

You lick your lips, waiting patiently for him to continue. When you realize he’s waiting on a response, you word your sentence carefully, even though they’re heavy in your mouth and make your lips tingle.

“That’s not.. that not y’all’s job. You don’t have to worry about me. Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just…”

It’s just that they’re stepping over your boundaries. It’s just that they’re stomping all over them, walking all over them gleefully. You preferred to keep people at a distance, preferred solitude, but the Wayne’s had already wiggled their way into your heart with ease. You didn’t mind that, but you did mind how they seemed determined to take care of you when you didn’t need to be taken care of.

“(Y/N), I know you aren’t used to being taken care of. I understand that. Just let us help you. Even if it’s something as simple as picking up medication, or helping you find an item. You don’t have to rely entirely on yourself anymore.” Bruce is almost fervent when he says this, leaning forward towards you, and there is a warm, earnest expression on his face. It’s not Brucie, his public persona, but the intensity of it steals the breath from your lungs and makes your chest tighten.

Your fingers buzz, and you take a sip of your cocoa, realizing you had forgotten to take your anxiety meds.

Maybe that’s why you were so put off by all this. Maybe the wires in your head were too crossed, too tangled, for you to understand genuine care versus smothering. Maybe Bruce really did just want to help.

“I’ll let you guys help.” You finally decide, and his shoulders unwind, before he reaches forward.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but the hand gently ruffling your hair isn’t it. You blink as the man stands, picking up his cup.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I mean it. Are you finished with your..?”

“Oh, ah, hold on.” You quickly chug the rest of the unfinished drink, because far be it for you to waste Alfred’s cocoa, and pass him the mug, wiping the foam from your lip.

“Be right back.”

The TV drones on when he comes back, and there’s a blanket in his hands, which he wraps around you. You don’t mind. The warmth is pleasant, seeping into your bones which are rapidly getting looser, and you sigh, burying your face into the soft faux fur.

Bruce sits down. He’s closer than he was before, radiating heat, and you grumble when your body falls against his thanks to the shifting weight. He doesn’t move you, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You’re not sure how to react. It’s warm and it’s nice and good, but part of you reels against being causally held like a small child.

You decide to let it continue, if only because you were too tired to care.

“Bruce?” The word is barely understandable, slurred, and you frown. That wasn’t quite right.

“Mm?”

“I think-“ You yawn, jaw popping loudly. “I think Alfred is gonna have to drop me off tomorrow.”

“Thats alright. You just get some rest, okay?” He soothes, and you nod, feeling him adjust the blankets around you.

You sink into oblivion like that, warm and safe and heavy.

[irradiatedrosegarden]

Benny Gecko headcanons

disclaimer: these are all my personal headcanons for him, no worries if they don't align with yours! everyone's interpretation of this guy is different, and that's pretty cool imo :3

5'7" and wishes he was taller.

Bisexual (I mean, look at him)

Trans man

Changed a lot (maybe the most, out of all the Boot Riders) after becoming the Chairmen, both mentally and physically. "Ciao to the old ways, baby - time to swing in style. If the shoes fit, you wear 'em." He adjusted the fastest out of all of the Boot Riders/Chairmen, as well, adopting his new persona flawlessly - from the wardrobe, to the vocabulary, to his new dreams of one day running the city himself. He molded perfectly with the Vegas lifestyle, gained weight once he wasn't walking through the desert for days on end and had every meal already secured, and thanks to the New Vegas Medical Clinic, was able to medically transition. He thrives off of the luxury, but has to pretend he doesn't miss the old Boot Rider days sometimes.

Mostly, what he regrets about transforming the Boot Riders into the Chairmen is the loss of some of their camaraderie. There's a different kind of companionship, of ride-or-die bonding that comes with being one of a band of nomads, relying only on themselves and each other to survive the harshness of the desert. The Chairmen are still incredibly loyal to one another; the sole reason no one other than Bingo opposed Benny's choice to move into the Tops once he was the leader - not enough to physically do anything about it, anyway. But some of that closeness they used to have was lost. Benny grew distant from the rest of his tribe, rising to great heights as the leader of the Tops, the one in charge - even being adopted as House's protégé - and leaving the others in his dust.

(this is pretty much canon but) he never had a second thought about agreeing to House's offer. He never thought for a second that the Boot Riders shouldn't become the Chairmen.

Trust Issues™

Terrible at controlling his facial expressions, often pulls involuntary faces (grimaces, scrunching his face/nose, pouting, grinning humorously, etc.) (all very briefly, just a split-second reaction to something or nothing) - often there's nothing going on that would elicit such an expression; it just happens involuntarily.

Gets random muscle spasms throughout the day, mostly in his hands or feet/legs. He'll accidentally hit/kick stuff, knock stuff over, or drop anything he's carrying.

Likes to sit on the floor while he eats, but doesn't like other people to know that. He'll sometimes lock himself in a bedroom or bathroom just to eat on the floor without being given funny looks.

Gets along best with Arcade, out of all the companions/roommates living in the Lucky 38. Has semi-frequent spitting matches with Cass that start out genuinely spiteful, but eventually transform into the one way they really bond: sibling-esque bickering. They get into a fistfight pretty early on, though, after Benny makes the mistake of calling Cass "Whiskey Rose" after learning that she hates it (dick move on his part, to be fair, but did he deserve his nose broken?).

Struggles with mental illness, has hallucinations and delusions that he takes medication for (which he gets from the New Vegas Medical Clinic), but has a very low alcohol tolerance as a side effect; he tends to avoid drinking.

One of his delusions is that the city of Vegas is somehow actually, truly alive, and it chose him specifically to rule it, to lead it to a new glory - a new independence. He believes he, and he alone, can run the city the way it was meant to be run - the way it needs to be run.

Maria was given to him as a gift from House, along with the checkered suit, the wingtip shoes, and the keys to his new home: the Tops Hotel and Casino.

Even before becoming the Chairmen, living the rich man's life in Vegas, Benny had a liking for the finer things in life. Especially nowadays, he appreciates spending the extra caps for the finest of the fine, smoking a distinctive, expensive brand of cigarettes, wearing his nice suit even on a trek through the desert, etc. His favorite food is oranges, another notably expensive thing to regularly eat (they aren't exactly common in the wasteland), part of the reason why he loves them so much.

One of his favorite ways to show affection toward someone is by peeling an orange for them, handing them slices one by one.

Speaking of affection, Benny is very showy, often cheesy, in how he shows it. The grander the gesture, and more importantly, the bigger the reaction it garners, the better. He loves surprising his partner, with anything from gifts to kisses.

His breath usually smells like cigarettes and oranges, very occasionally with a hint of alcohol.

Drinks water out of wine and champagne glasses, partly for the expensive aesthetic, partly to hide the fact that it's only water that he's drinking.

Very intelligent and cunning, but tends to be short-sighted. He has these big, great plans, but overlooks the finer details, and ultimately ends up failing more often than not. (See: plotting out the courier's ambush and murder, but neglecting to ensure they were actually dead; figuring out how to (with help) reprogram an entire Securitron, but then double crossing the person who helped him; successfully sneaking all the way into the Fort, with the Platinum Chip in hand(!!!), but getting caught because he didn't wear a helmet so as to not mess up his hair, etc.).

Sleeps around; canonically a pretty boy, very much plays into the persona of the smooth-talking, sensual, gorgeous casino-owner. Either intentionally or not, his good looks can't be denied as part of the reason the Tops is as popular as it is. Who doesn't want to patronize a casino with a charming, handsome owner - who can often be found hanging out on the ground floor, overlooking the tables, talking up whoever will listen? There are some rumors, shared in a hush underneath the rolling of the roulette wheels, the overhead swing music, that Benny is the town bicycle; rumors of people he's supposedly had a fling with. He's a regular Casanova.

Paranoia™

this man is doomed by the narrative and it's making me insane

His hair is curly, but he styles it with so much gel (gotta look like a 1950s gentleman, y'know) you can't tell, save for the single curl that always seems to fail to remain smoothed back. Living with Daisy (my courier six!), especially during the recovery after Benny is rescued from the Fort, he wears his hair loose, which Daisy particularly appreciates (she loves when he lays his head on her lap/chest and she plays with his hair; much nicer when it's not all crusty or greasy with hair gel or spray).

Small feet

Canonically disappears for days - sometimes weeks - at a time, deciding on a whim to wander who-knows-where around the Mojave and be alone for a while. Brushed off by the others back in Vegas, namely by Swank, as "a cat needing some time to swing," but they get worried when the days turn into weeks. No one really knows where he goes. All they know is that in seven years, he hadn't ever failed to return - the Fort changed that (in my game, he was held captive there for several months).

Loves physical contact as a way to show affection, loves hugs, hand-holding, massages, and people playing with his hair. So does Daisy, which makes for a pair of absolute lovebirds once they're living together; they're inseparable, pretty much always touching one another, even if it's just a hand resting on the other's shoulder or waist, an arm around their shoulders, hand in hand and side by side. They're practically glued at the hip.

Bottom™

Runs his hands through his hair as an anxious habit (maybe the reason for the aforementioned loose curl), taps his feet, and bites his lip, often to the point of bleeding. He tries to be subtle in his anxious stimming, but if you know him, and know how he acts, you'll always be able to tell when he's nervous.

Used to be married to Swank, but after too much changed - after Benny changed too much - when the Boot Riders became the Chairmen, they divorced. It was Swank's idea, coming to Benny's suite one night and explaining honestly how he felt, how he felt things would continue to change moving forward, and how he realized that, in order for things to continue going smoothly, the nature of their relationship needed to change. Swank wasn't going anywhere - he had Benny's back, and nothing would change that - but he couldn't, in good conscience, continue to be Benny's husband. Too much had changed; he felt like Benny was trying to hide their relationship, treating him differently in front of others, even the other Chairmen. It didn't feel right.

Still calls Swank by the name he had before they became the Chairmen.

Never stopped wearing the wedding ring Swank gave him; switches it to his right hand after he marries Daisy.

Writes little letters, (like "Thanks, baby") and attempts to write little poems, for his partner. His . . . unique vocabulary comes across in writing, but the romance of said writing is . . . debatable.

Good leader. Like it or not, he earned his place as chief of the Boot Riders, and kept up that leadership position after the transition to the Chairmen, for seven years and still going strong when the courier comes and messes everything up.

Has big dreams, big, big ideas and hopes and ambitions. Sometimes, they're too big. Sometimes, they end up with him falling flat on his face when he tries to reach too high, to admittedly dangerous unattainable heights. Does that stop him from trying? Fuck no.

Terrible nightmares and night terrors, goes on long walks outside (usually staying within the city limits) when he's scared at night.

[thezombieprostitute]

Good moaning. 😇

A/N: Sorry this took awhile @navybrat817. The muses weren't working with me.

A/N2: Reader is AFAB, Tall & Plus Size; Ended up working through a lot of my own insecurities on this one. Left it open ended because it's a lot longer than it should've been. It was supposed to be open ended but then Hal insisted on showing off.

Part 2

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Insecure reader. Please let me know if I missed any.

Hal had always been the most notorious flirt in the office. Every woman had been complimented, flirted with, made to blush by him. Except you. When it came to you, Hal was all business. Maybe some friendly gestures, but that was it.

You should be used to it by now. You'll never forget in high school when your crush said, "I just never thought of you as a girl. I don't think of you as guy," he was quick to say, "but I just don't think of you as a girl." And it seems to have been the same for every guy, every crush, ever since.

Dating apps only seemed to make things worse. You'd be really getting along with someone, they'd talk about how personality is more important, but as soon as they actually saw you, their demeanor shifted. They always just wanted to be friends. You were pretty sure spinsterhood was your only option. Especially if even the Hal Carter wasn't willing to flirt with you.

"You should be grateful," some of your friends would chide you. "You don't have to worry about being harassed or assaulted." And you were grateful that those weren't concerns for you. But you weren't bemoaning a lack of problems, you were bemoaning an abundance of loneliness.

"Hey, Y/N," Hal's voice snapped you out of your self-pity party.

"Yes, Hal?"

"Do you have the specs for that Potts order? I need to double check a few things."

"Sure thing," you nod as you go to the filing cabinet. You find the paperwork he needs and hand it to him.

"Are you alright," he asks.

"No different than usual. Why?"

"You just...you seem...um. How do I put this?"

"Hal, please just tell me I look miserable and get back to work? I'm not in the mood for beating around the bush. I'm painfully well aware of how I look." You're struggling to keep the tears at bay and just want him to leave you be.

"Is there anything I can do? I hate to see you like this."

"No, Hal, there's nothing you, personally, can do. I'm just having a self-pity party after yet another bad date and I need to be left alone."

"You're dating?" His face is filled with genuine surprise and it's the straw that breaks you. You stop fighting the tears and just run to the bathroom to let it all out in private.

By the time you're done crying you're exhausted. You should get back to work but you just can't fathom spending more time around people. You get back to your desk, send a note to your boss and head home early. You're just gonna let yourself cry and sleep it out.

When you get to work the next day there's a bouquet of blue hyacinth and white lily-of-the-valley flowers. The card had a simple "I'm sorry" card signed by Hal. You really should apologize to him, it wasn't his fault. It was just really shitty timing. Still, you appreciate the flowers. You can't remember the last time anyone got you any.

You get into the flow of work, catching up on things you missed yesterday, so you don't notice Hal slowly making his way to your desk, like he's afraid you'll lash out. When you finally look up and see him, you give him a soft smile and he takes that as an okay signal to close the distance to your desk.

"Thank you for the flowers, Hal," you start. "You really didn't need to. You did nothing wrong."

"I ask you a question and you leave crying," Hal huffs. "Pretty sure that means I did something wrong."

"Believe me, Hal, if it was something you did, I'd have told you." You shake your head, "it's just me being overly sensitive. And I'm sorry I worried you or made you feel it was your fault. You don't deserve that."

"So, you're single and looking," Hal slowly says.

"For now," you sigh. "Seriously contemplating giving up but I just can never bring myself to ever fully give up hope. No matter how many times I get hurt."

"Maybe it's your technique," he offers. "If you need help with your flirting, just let me know. I can teach you a few things."

Against your better judgment you open up the dating app and the messages you shared from the last guy you met for a date. You show them to Hal and tell him how you could've done better.

"Huh, you're a smart cookie," he says. "Talking to this guy about smart stuff that definitely goes over my head. Why didn't he work out?"

Trying not to lose patience, he is just trying to help, you calmly tell him, "because he saw me. That's how it always goes, Hal. I'm not pretty enough. I don't fit into any of the molds that define 'attractive'. I never hide my build, my picture, but there must be quite the difference between photos and real life."

"Sounds like your problem is that you keeping attracting douchebags," Hal observed. "Just need to find yourself a good man."

"If it were that easy, I wouldn't be so lonely."

"You don't think I'm a good man?" He seems genuinely upset by this thought.

"Hal, please be careful because I don't want to cry at work again," you start. "Regardless of whether or not you're a good guy, you've never once expressed interest in me, so why would it matter if you were a douchebag or not?"

"This is definitely my fuck up," he sighs. "I was trying to be respectful of you. I was trying to treat you differently to show I think about you differently."

"Yes," you agree. "That came through loud and clear. You want to be workplace friends at most. I understand that. It's not a fuck up."

"No, not like that," Hal counters. "I...I flirt with everyone but you because I didn't want you to think I thought of you as just another pretty face. I kept it professional with you so you would know that I am respectful of you as a person. That I appreciate working with you and don't want us to get separated because the boss thinks I'm doing more flirting than working."

"I don't want your pity, Hal," you scold him. "If you're not interested, you're not interested. I don't blame you! But a pity flirt? That's hurtful."

Instead of backing down, Hal puts both hands on your desk and leans closer towards you, neither of you breaking eye contact. Your eyes are filled with a simmering anger and his beautiful blues are steely with determination. "I will prove to you, however I need to, that my feelings and intentions are genuine."

"I need to get back to work," you reply with ice in your voice.

"Challenge accepted, Dandelion," Hal smirks before leaving you to your work.

Part 2

Tagging @alicedopey and @icefrozendeadlyqueen because I promised I would

[jacevelaryonswife]

Hi, honey💕. So... Well... What, if our lovely monk can no longer resist the desire, to kiss his beloved wife on the lips? Well, those lips, that are between her thighs...

ㅤㅤ The sweet taste of sin

∴pairing: Osferth x Fem!reader

∴warning: obscenities, female receiving, english is not my first language

part two

The carnal intimacy in your union with Osferth developed with time and patience. None of you were experienced and/or extroverts when it came to sharing a bed, especially your sweet husband, who in addition to being shy was a little more religious than most people. However, as body-to-body contact became more common in your marriage, the urge to test and discover things grew in parallel. The great reason for the curiosity to break new ground was the exchange of experiences with other lords and ladies, although for Osferth it was almost involuntary to hear, unlike you, who whispered subtly with your friends about the experiences of the flesh.

Living with other men meant constantly hearing about libidinous acts of all kinds, but one specific account caught his attention—almost horrifying him.

“The best way to stop a woman from talking is to shut her bottom lips, if you know what I mean.”

It wasn't the first time he heard about it, but the situation responsible for bringing him to the current moment was a few weeks ago when he heard Finan's advice to a young squire whose lady was still chaste and wished to remain so until marriage.

"You don't just have your cock to satisfy a woman, use your tongue and make her want more, she can also use her mouth to your advantage."

After that, the immoral thought of having his face between your legs took up more and more space in his mind. He was genuinely intrigued by the use of something as common and harmless as the mouth in such a… pleasurable activity. It felt wrong, almost a sin, but how could he think of anything else when your hands were palming him in that place during wet kisses? When you warmed him with kisses and licks on his neck and chest, with the tenderness of your mouth and the receptive warmth of your flower… everything was so good and intoxicating. His sweet wife, so beautiful and affable, so devastatingly tempting.

Osferth has tasted your lips, your face, your neck, the soft skin of your stomach and breasts. What would it be like to wrap your intimate petal in such an intimate kiss? How would you receive the idea?

He did not know. He was terrified, but it didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Is there a problem, my love?” You asked sweetly, cupping the right side of his face in your hand. It wasn't the first time you identified that look before they surrendered to love. It seemed recurring lately, but you wouldn't let it go from today.

The owl sang as you shared physical affection and loving words by candlelight, your white dress leaving little to hide in your precious husband's long arms, leg crossing his hip innocently.

“My lady”, he whispered after inhaling deeply, eagerly kissing your neck.

“Husband”, you replied quietly, melting and closing your eyes, briefly forgetting the nervous eyes and uncertain fingers of seconds ago. “Mm, do you want me?”

"Yes my love."

Turning to have it above your body, you scanned it intently, holding both sides of the beautiful, smooth face you loved so much. “You look nervous, did something happen? You had that look the last few times…”

Oh Lord. That was the moment. Sudden dryness clogged his throat and a red color stained his cheeks, remembering the last time he'd snaked his fingers up your thigh and planted kisses on the soft skin to settle between your legs and… that's enough, he couldn't take any more. He needed to say.

“My lady, th-there's something I'd like to do,” he began, propping himself up on his elbows and struggling to choose the right words, “now, there's something I'd like to do now, which some lords do for their wives. .”

"What my love? What would you like to do?”, you saw the flush rise in your Osferth's face, leaning in too to prop himself up on his elbows, lips close to his again. “No need to be ashamed, husband, tell me”, your hands stroked his hair. Heavens, he was totally embarrassed, hoping you'd catch on to his intentions quickly.

“My love… I want… I want to be between your legs. Kiss, between your legs.”

Oh! Your mouth parted in realization, smiling shyly and almost satisfied at the thought. A few ladies described the sensation as majestic and delicious, but it felt so indecent to think of your exquisite husband licking your nectar, so wrong… it didn't lessen the tingling between your legs.

“Osferth. I want. I want this, husband”, you kissed him tenderly, trying to calm him down through the slow movements of your lips. You lay down with him on top of your body, opening your legs to fit him.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Yes, yes I have. I want you."

Even with your consent, Osferth was still nervous, nodding as he lowered himself to your hips, snaking his long fingers down both thighs to feel the softness of your flesh and slowly up your bed gown. Standing face to face with your naked flower, he preferred to plant a few kisses on the inside of your thigh before…

How should he proceed?

Remembering Finan's advice, your husband tentatively licked the midsection of your femininity, contemplating a part of her pearl with his tongue. Your legs closed and a low moan escaped, hands moving to cup the sides of his face. Osferth took another short lick, seeing your reaction repeat itself.

“More, husband, I want more.”

Using more pressure, he licked a longer strip over and over, gripping yourlegs a little tighter to keep your body still. As your sounds increased, Osferth buried his head deeper and held your hips for better support. The sensation was fantastic and warmed your entire body, spurring your femininity to provide additional moisture as it tingled where your husband's tongue gazed.

“Kiss me my love, kiss me more”, you whimpered, lifting your hips a little. “I want to feel everything.”

The fiery little thing you were allowed to harness your husband's wet member for your own lust, rubbing your intimacy in your sweet monk's face. “Eat me as if I were a fruit.” Your pert mouth enchanted him along with your nectar, the sweet taste of sin he lapped at so greedily. He started to suck you like a peach, devouring your petals from top to bottom, especially on that mound where you sang the loudest. So good, so delicious is his wife. Osferth surrendered completely to the mercy of your taste and your sounds, moaning when you squeeze his head between your thighs and pull a few strands of his dark blond hair. When the sweet pleasure that pooled in your pearl suddenly exploded, your eyes closed and a loud moan left your lips, enjoying the extra stimulation during the heat before gently pulling your husband away.

“That was so good,” you said breathlessly.

He was fascinated by your sweaty body and the peculiar taste between your thighs, wiping moisture from your face with his forearm. His bed pants didn't do much to arrest his manhood, leaving him conspicuous and in need of your attention, with a hazy look and slightly open mouth.

How could you deny your lovely husband anything?

Getting up slowly, you squeezed him gently between your pants to hear him groan. “Let me return the favor, my love.”

hope you like it dear 💙

[weebsinstash]

Dunno if you watched SK8 the Infinity, but one important conflict is literally the protagonist Reki becoming extremly insecure and unmotivated in skating after seeing how his new friend Langa (a snowboarder) who has barely started skating is a prodigy and so much better at it than him, who has been skating since he was a child.

Langa is naturally talented at skating while Reki works hard and still cannot measure up to someone who just started, which makes him consider quit skating altogether and leads him to distance himself from Langa because of insecurity and jealousy.

Those type of scenarios just pull at the heartstrings, you know?? Like there is nothing worse than working hard and still feeling inferior to the people around you, which DOES make for juicy angsty scenarios :)(

No but literally those are the kinds of plots where you kinda immerse yourself in the grief and it can be empowering to see your underdog recover, but also GOD is that shit so depressing and hits close to home, for real the kind of plots I soak up and throw pity parties for myself for lol

You know I've been pretty open about it but like, every so often I get compliments on my writing that are very sweet, but ultimately I do have to acknowledge like 😅 I AM basically a self taught high school drop out. So especially when I personally start writing about these sorts of stories "lol what if Reader is a depressed fucking loser absolutely struggling through the mediocre machinations of life and has Strong Hot Person come save them" like. You know where that's coming from lmao 😂 extremely unsettle but I figure what I write is usually relatable enough that it's like why the fuck not be a little personal sometimes

God though I had initially considered that when I was talking about like the Spiderverse You vs YouTwo ideas, initially considered making YouTwo drastically superior to you, but the route I've decided on is, you're on equal footing and there are certain things you each do better than the other but, seeing them be better than you at anything is salt in your wounds since you're feeling replaced.

I also like obviously have mentioned it several times but like. Living with Damian Wayne specifically would be absolute awful for this scenario, especially if you make your yandere mean or whatever. Like you could be minding your own goddamn business doing your favorite hobby and have this snot nosed fucking 10 year old (this one, the nasty one, before he gets tamed down, potentially by you?) and he's just like "that's not how you're supposed to do it" and physically takes it out of your hands, does it for you, and explains to you what you were doing wrong the entire time

Like imagine platonic yandere Damian who can't communicate his feelings for shit and is still deep in his Little Hellion Phase so you think he's just constantly insulting you and trying to show how much better and smarter than you he is when in reality he's just like. Very Poorly being like, "oh, a chance to show my sibling how cool and smart I am, and then I can teach them and they'll like me :) and they like to learn new things so I should teach them as much as I know and they can feel smart too :)" and on your end you're thinking he's an egotistical MEAN little kid who's making you extremely insecure and feel worthless and stupid and maybe sometimes often he's, not always using the best language with you because he wasn't really raised with kindness. "Why would you think THAT'S how you do it?" With a tone like youre a fucking idiot, "I don't understand what you're not seeing, I've been doing this for years and I'm an actual child"

like genuinely it's all of those "someone else one upping you" ideas but WORSE because you can't leave this fucking house and he's TEN. Youve got a fucking TEN YEAR OLD physically and mentally one upping you CONSTANTLY with the mental abilities of like a fucking adult man. I feel like the entire family being trained in violence, you'd think they would understand having like a physical fight and have probably had many themselves, but the second YOU lose your temper and put a hand on any of THEM, SACRILEGE. Damian couldve been saying the cuntiest things to your face and the SECOND you swing on him, just absolutely lose your shit, suckerpunch that brat in his face, give him a literal black eye that he didn't block because he didn't expect his beloved sibling to hit him, Bruce is UP YOUR ASS about, "you know better than this! That's your brother!!" like straight up, I think messing with one of the Robins or members of his family is the fastest way to have yandere Bruce lose patience with you and do something less loving. Takes away privileges, grounds you, makes you do labor around the house or labor for him in the cave or Damian, forces you to apologize and also acknowledge "that my brother just wanted what was best for me 🙄"

He's the kind of overbearing calculating shit where he waits until everyone is at the family dinner table and he casually pauses in between spoonfuls of soup, "so I see sister has been sneaking out of the house. You didn't do a very good job of washing the cigarette smoke out of your jacket" ousting you in a double whammy combo for sneaking out without permission AND smoking, and of course you're responding something like "you little PRICK!!" and now Bruce is standing up, jabbing a finger towards the stairs as he demands you go to your room with the unspoken threat that's he's coming up there to speak to you about this after everyone eats

Like legit living in that house would be a nightmare because everyone is gifted and everyone's doing somersaulting backflips and it's like. Lmao my knees pop when I stand up :) you're all like insanely gifted in your fields and I'm like. Normal. Some would say a simple minded burnout, even. Like. Lmao. Imagine a scenario where you're still independent and doing your own thing bur Bruce is, you know yandere mode and keeping tabs on you, and he's constantly trying to like, nudge you towards better opportunities. You're in costume on a rooftop and suddenly he's asking you about your schooling. You're working a shitty day job and one day the in universe equivalent sends you am email "based on your qualifications, this employer is interested in your resume" and its a super well paying WayneTech job that you. Turn down because you'd either fail the drug test and don't think you're good enough lmao. Bruce just tearing his hair out as he decides "ok fine I'll make your life better by force" and just starts buying your apartment building and where you work or some shit so he can improve your quality of life from the outside

[final-fantasy-imagines]

Can i ask for general relationship hcs for genesis and sephiroth (gn!reader), pretty please? :)))

Hey there, dear anon! Thank you so much for your request. <3 I know it took me a while to finish these but I hope you enjoy the headcanons nevertheless.

Characters: Genesis Rhapsodos, Sephiroth

General relationship HCs (gn!reader)

Genesis Rhapsodos

One might not expect it but Genesis is a hopeless romantic at heart. He usually hides it quite well but once you get closer to him it’s obvious how much all of this really means to him. He often brings you flowers from Aerith or leaves little notes for you to find, for example when he has to leave the house before you wake up.

Whenever you compliment him, he’s putty in your hands immediately. Genesis might often act like he doesn’t care what others think about him but deep down, he really craves these words of affirmation – especially since he’ll probably never stop seeing himself as a monster or a failed experiment. It’s also so very easy to fluster him with genuine compliments, though he tries his best not to let it show.

Aside from Angeal and Sephiroth, you’re the only one he trusts enough to show his true self. Around others, he hides behind a mask of cockiness, even arrogance, carefully locking away his feelings and struggles, but around you, he doesn’t have to fake anything. He can be himself, without having to fear any judgement from you, and that alone is enough to make him fall in love with you again every single day.

He’s not one to get jealous easily since he trusts you and knows that you would never betray him like that. But he still hates when others are clearly trying to flirt with you, especially if you’re obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. It makes his blood boil when others are unable to respect your boundaries, and in moments like that, he definitely won’t hesitate to step in.

Of course, his SOLDIER duties keep him more than busy, and he sometimes has to be away from you for days, if not weeks, but Genesis makes sure to contact you at least once a day, not only because he misses you but also to show that you don’t have to worry about him. He doesn’t always have the time to call you though, so sometimes he just sends a quick text (which includes at least one quote from Loveless as well as some variation of I love you).

Sephiroth

Sephiroth isn’t someone to fall head over heels in love with someone or to dive head first into a relationship. He’s definitely hesitant, even repulsing at first, and tries to push you away, both because he feels like he’s not what you need and because he’s just so used to being alone. But once you have him, Sephiroth is yours forever. 

He’s not overly affectionate, in the sense that he rarely initiates cuddles or kisses himself but he would never deny you any affection if you asked for it, especially since he soon realizes how nice it feels to just hold you close for a while. There’s something so calming and peaceful about cuddling with you, and although he’d probably never admit it, he really craves these feelings. However, PDA is something he most likely never gets used to. 

There’s absolutely nothing Sephiroth wouldn’t do to keep you safe and sound. He knows first-hand how dangerous and awful the world can be, and he tries everything in his power to keep you safe from all harm. And should someone dare to lay a hand on you, Sephiroth won’t hesitate to make them pay for it. He fiercely protects the people he loves, no ifs, no buts – even if he had to risk his own life in the process.

You’re one of the few people he trusts with his whole heart. When he’s around you, he doesn’t have to pretend to be something he isn’t, and that’s one of the main reasons why he feels so comfortable in your presence. You know him – the real him – and you accept him just the way he is, his flaws and quirks included, and he loves you all the more for that. 

However, being in a relationship with Sephiroth isn’t all sunshine and flowers. No matter how much he loves you, there will always be situations where he still pushes you away, for example when you get into an argument and he feels like he needs to protect you from himself. In moments like this, patience is key – sooner or later, he will come to you to apologize but until then, it’s best to give him some space.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider liking, reblogging and/or leaving some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support. <3

Taglist: @sixdaysofsilverashes @thevoidwriting @theimaginaryheir @strawberrymoonsx

[dazailover4ever]

Part 2: The Pull of Two Worlds

Summary: After finding yourself entangled in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, your focus remains on one goal: returning to your own universe. But as you delve deeper into the mysteries of this strange new world, something unexpected begins to shift—your connection with Gojo Satoru.

He's infuriatingly carefree, impossibly powerful, and unlike anyone you've ever met. Despite your determination to stay distant, you can’t deny the magnetic pull between you. As Gojo pushes you to confront truths you’ve kept buried, you realize escaping this universe might not be as simple as it seems—especially when it’s your heart that’s starting to anchor you here.

With each passing day, the stakes grow higher, and so do the feelings you're not ready to admit.

Your time at Jujutsu High began to blur into a routine. Each day, you trained under Gojo’s watchful eye, becoming more familiar with the strange, cursed world around you. The students, initially wary of you, grew more comfortable in your presence. Even the younger ones like Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, who had been cautious of you, started to greet you with casual smiles. Though your heart still yearned for the life you had left behind, this world was slowly weaving itself into your mind.

But no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the training and the missions Gojo insisted on bringing you along for, your desire to return home was like a shadow hanging over you.

One evening, as you sat in Gojo’s office, going over the details of a recent mission, you couldn’t help but bring up the question that had been plaguing you for weeks.

“Gojo,” you said, your voice soft but firm, “how do I get back to my world?”

Gojo, who had been leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, cracked one eye open. “Back to the big, bad world of billionaires, anime, and power struggles?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m serious.”

He dropped his feet to the floor, the playful expression fading from his face. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted, and that was the first time you had seen anything close to genuine concern in him. “Curses are unpredictable, especially ones strong enough to pull someone across dimensions. We’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened.”

You frowned, your heart sinking a little at the lack of progress. “So I’m stuck here.”

“For now.” Gojo’s gaze softened, and he tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “But is that really so bad?”

You stared at him, startled by the question. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, but there was a seriousness in his tone. “You’ve adapted well. You’re strong, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and,” he leaned closer, “you’re not half-bad at fighting curses.”

You looked away, his words tugging at something deep inside you. It was true, you had adapted. You had become someone who could fight, strategize, and survive in this world. But your heart still ached for home—the empire you had built, the people who depended on you.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered, your voice laced with frustration. “I didn’t ask to be taken from my life.”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, watching you carefully. “No one ever asks for the hand they’re dealt,” he said softly. “But you’re here now, and that means something.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “But what if I can’t go back? What if I’m stuck here forever?”

Gojo reached out, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “Then you’ll make a life here, just like you did in your world.”

His touch was warm, grounding you in the present. But the weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you. Could you really let go of your past life and embrace this one? Could you ever truly find peace here?

The days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you had become an integral part of the Jujutsu High team. You worked with the students on missions, sparred with Gojo regularly, and even started to develop your own understanding of cursed energy. Though you were far from a jujutsu sorcerer, you had gained enough knowledge to hold your own in a fight.

And then, one day, everything changed.

You were on a mission with Gojo and the students, investigating a particularly strong curse that had been wreaking havoc in a nearby city. The battle was intense, the curse’s power far beyond anything you had encountered before. Even Gojo, with his limitless abilities, seemed to take the fight more seriously than usual.

But it wasn’t the curse that changed everything. It was what happened afterward.

As you stood on the rooftop of a building, watching the last remnants of the curse fade away, a strange feeling washed over you. It was as if something was pulling at you, tugging at your very soul.

You gasped, stumbling backward as the world around you seemed to shift and distort.

Gojo was at your side in an instant, his hand gripping your arm to steady you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to clear the dizziness that had overtaken you. “I… I don’t know. It felt like…”

Before you could finish, a strange, shimmering portal appeared in front of you. It was unlike anything you had seen before—rippling with energy that felt both familiar and foreign.

Gojo’s grip tightened on your arm. “That’s a dimensional rift,” he said, his voice unusually serious.

You stared at the portal, your heart pounding in your chest. “Is this… is this my way back?”

Gojo didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the rift. “Maybe.”

For a moment, you felt a surge of hope. This could be it—your chance to go home, to return to your life, your company, your responsibilities. But as you took a step toward the portal, something stopped you.

It wasn’t just fear of the unknown. It was something else. Something—or someone—you couldn’t bear to leave behind.

You turned to look at Gojo, who was watching you with an expression you had never seen on him before. It was subtle, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

“If you go through that rift,” he said quietly, “there’s no guarantee you’ll come back. You could end up back in your world, or you could end up somewhere worse.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “But if I don’t go, I might never get another chance.”

Gojo’s hand loosened slightly on your arm, his gaze softening. “It’s your choice.”

Your heart raced as you stared at the rift, torn between the life you had lost and the life you had found here. You had spent weeks fighting to get back to your world, but now that the opportunity was in front of you, the thought of leaving… it terrified you.

“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice shaking.

He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes said it all. He didn’t want you to go.

In the end, you made your decision.

With one last glance at Gojo, you stepped toward the rift.

But as the energy of the portal swirled around you, you hesitated.

Gojo’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “You don’t have to go.”

For a split second, you wanted to listen to him. You wanted to stay. But you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t. Not yet.

You turned to him, your eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, you stepped through the rift, the world around you dissolving into darkness.

When you woke up, you were lying on the cold, hard floor of an empty room. The familiar sound of city traffic echoed in the distance, and when you looked up, you saw the skyline of your home city through a window.

You were back. You had made it.

But as you sat up, your heart ached with the realization that something was missing.

Or rather, someone.

End of part 2

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 5

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Laurent moved off a few steps. Damen saw him lift a hand to the back of his own neck, as if to release tension. Saw him do nothing for a moment but stand and be quiet and breathe the cool air scented with night flowers. It occurred to Damen for the first time that Laurent might have his own reasons for wanting to escape the attention of the court.

i appreciate this hint of their future dynamic :)

A silence opened up around Laurent’s words. In it, their meaning changed. Herode began, ‘I—’ Then he looked at Damen, and his expression grew alarmed. ‘Is this safe? He’s broken his leash. Guard!’

context: laurent needs herode to think that damen deserved the flogging, so he took him somewhere private and broke his bindings, framing damen as disobedient. nice moment ruined >:(

‘If you’re concerned that my memory for wrongs against me is longer than ten months,’ said Laurent, ‘there’s no need for anxiety. I am sure you can persuade me you were genuinely mistaken.’

translation: “make it up to me, disloyal coward.” the way laurent deals with this person, who lacks loyalty and integrity, foreshadows how much he will struggle to hate damen, who has more loyalty and integrity than any sane person probably should

‘How thoughtful of you, Councillor,’ said Laurent. ‘He turned to Damen and said in a melting voice, ���Your back must hurt terribly.’ ‘It’s fine,’ said Damen. ‘Kneel on the ground, then,’ Laurent said.

absolutely no strategy here, laurent just sucks. "oh you're comfortable for once? let's see what i can do about that." also the fact that laurent is trying to appear likable to herode but still cannot resist being a bitch to damen is sooo funny

His best feature was a pair of amazing blue eyes, unmatched by any Damen had ever seen, except for the ones he had recently been staring into.

damen has a talent for thirsting over laurent in the most backhanded manner possible

His skin was fair and his curling light brown hair was burnished with gold. He was exactly the type that Damen could have drawn down onto the sheets and spent a very pleasant couple of hours enjoying.

damen likes blondes mention #4. erasmus barely scrapes by, but the word “gold” tells us everything we need to know

‘Well?’ Laurent said. ‘Can you couple adequately, or do you just kill things?’

god he sucks. also, “adequate.”

Damen thought that given the choice between the lash and a conversation with Laurent, he might actually choose the lash.

‘He’s not very talkative,’ remarked Vannes. ‘It comes and goes,’ said Laurent.

laurent continues to shoulder the burden of being the funniest bitch in this entire court

Damen was sickened by the idea of some nobleman’s boy offering himself up to be hurt on the assumption that it would play to Laurent’s tastes. Then he thought of all he knew of Laurent, and only felt sicker, because of course the boy’s assumptions were probably correct.

context: i don’t think laurent is an equal-opportunity sadist, or even a sadist at all. he just really hates damen specifically, and mirrors the viciousness of his culture to survive

If there was anything explicit on view, it must be the absence of all desire to be where he was.

the garden scene. okay. 

first, context: a possible explanation for laurent volunteering damen could be a desire to see him experience a similar situation to his own abuse from his uncle, since damen is the reason laurent lost his protector. however, that doesn’t quite sound right to me, because wouldn’t seeing this whole tableau just re-traumatize laurent? then again, laurent’s life in the veretian court is pretty much endless re-traumatization, all day every day. so i suppose in his mind, he might as well get something out of his own shitty circumstances, and that something in this case is revenge. misery loves company, after all. 

also, sex to laurent is a matter of control and power, rather than love or pleasure. so to him, both this and the fighting ring might feel the same as any other kind of violence. he doesn’t care about the additional violation that sexual assault carries towards his enemies—and at the end of the day, laurent knows that he himself has probably been through worse. 

the exception to this is nicaise, or anyone else who laurent deems innocent and disempowered. those people, he will try to protect to the very best of his ability. but at this point in the series, laurent sees damen not only as a shitty person, but also a shitty person with power. he knows that damen is not a slave, but a prince. a prince who keeps slaves of his own. so in laurent-brain, i can see how this could be twisted into something justifiable. or just not worth justifying at all.

it still isn’t right, though. they could have done this and been just as horny about it with, like, dubious consent rather than none. i think i would feel more comfortable finding elements of this scene hot if that were the case, but i respect and appreciate that the point of this book is not simply to Be Hot. and to be fair—instant gratification, moral simplicity, and straightforward execution are not very compelling qualities for an erotic scene to possess. i’m just glad that the rest of the sex-adjacent scenes in this series between damen and laurent are explicitly consensual, because this scene would be harder to accept within the series’s ethical framework and the development of their love story if it happened multiple times.

i want to analyze the craft here, but i feel uncomfortable dissecting what i know to be a non-consensual scene in order to determine what makes it hot. but i also know, undeniably, that the events of this scene are hot, and that hotness was almost certainly written on purpose. 

for me, the hotness does not come from the lack of consent itself, but rather the action and dialogue happening on the page. i don’t think the lack of consent is necessarily meant to be hot here—it’s the absolute insanity of laurent’s approach to oral sex, and the power dynamic it creates, that makes the scene memorable. and those elements could easily be reproduced in a consensual scene and have the same effect. so i want to study those elements specifically, to see how they work as erotic writing, removed from the parts that don’t. 

tl;dr: the garden scene is unequivocally non-consensual. however, it is written in a way that eroticizes the circumstances. i can still study the writing where it is effective without finding the circumstances of the scene morally justifiable or hot, in fiction or real life. 

anyway. i'm trying to study the craft of scenes like this, so i'm going full analysis on this one. garden scene, summarized:  

setup: laurent is rumored to be frigid and does not partake in the sexual activities of veretian nobility. yet he goes along with this tableau, allowing damen to be used as a participant. i do not think that this is for laurent’s own sexual gratification, because i don’t think laurent is in touch with his own sexuality in general. sex means something different to laurent than it does to damen, and the other characters in the scene, and (i’d hope) to the reader as well.

beginning: ancel isn’t damen’s type. damen has no strong feelings about ancel as a person. he is not attracted to ancel’s frivolity or weak will. being serviced by ancel is not doing anything for damen. he feels smug about this. it gives him power over laurent, who has permitted this tableau in order to emphasize the power he has over damen.

then: laurent—who is damen’s type, his worst enemy, and the reason he’s in this situation in the first place—starts coaching ancel on how to give head. laurent is completely methodical and detached with his instructions, and is clearly focusing on psychologically tormenting damen, rather than getting off on the display. in other words, he is neither frivolous nor weak-willed. he’s exactly the opposite. 

meanwhile: damen, our pov character, is no longer immune to whatever the fuck is going on in this scene. he is into this and can’t hide it. he has lost the power he briefly had over laurent, and now possesses even less power than he started with. not only is he owned by laurent in the technical sense, but he is being owned by laurent in the horny sense too. 

and i believe that the intention is for the reader to understand how he's feeling—not to blame him for his interest, because this situation is clearly compelling, to damen and possibly the person reading. laurent’s ability to essentially mindfuck damen across the room, fully clothed, is honestly insane. cs pacat herself says that about laurent in a commentary video—he’s a mindfucker. it’s intentional and it’s the focal point of the scene. much later on in the series, i think damen even admits that he was paying attention to laurent the whole time. it’s hot. it just is. 

i’ll point out more specific things in the following passages, but that’s the gist of it. i'm cringing so hard posting this publicly, but if heterosexual women on booktok can post their whole-ass face and gps location while fangirling over colleen hoover sex scenes, i think i can share my messy gay mindfucking analysis on a website that hasn't been a part of the public consciousness since like 2017

Laurent was watching Damen’s face with the same cerebral attention that he might apply to a strategic problem. ‘He likes that. Do it harder,’ said Laurent.

craft note: laurent openly observes damen’s responses, notices exactly what works, tells ancel to do that specifically because “he likes it,” and that turns damen on even more

personal note: oh my god

Damen could feel his thighs tighten, then, minutely, spread, his breath quickening in his chest... He turned towards Laurent. It was a mistake to look at him. Even in the shadows of evening, Damen could see the relaxed arrangement of Laurent’s body, the marmoreal perfection of his features, and the detached unconcern with which he gazed at Damen, not bothering to so much as glance down at Ancel’s moving head.

craft note: damen loses his resolve, looks to laurent for mercy, and is just even more mindfucked by the fact that laurent is completely unaffected, not even interested at all

If you believed the Prince’s Guard, Laurent was the impregnable citadel, and took no lovers at all. Right now Laurent gave the impression of a mind somewhat engaged, and a body wholly aloof, untouched by ardour. The ribald fancy of the Prince’s Guard held a kernel of plausibility. On the other hand, the aloof, untouched Laurent was at this moment delivering a precise treatise on cocksucking.

god, this is SO fucking good. damen is basically admitting that he can’t believe laurent is entirely sexless, because he is managing to fuck him without even having sex at all.

craft note: that is the perfect moment to insert a crass word, after paragraphs of more clinical descriptions. i love that the only time we hear “cocksucking” in this scene is in reference to laurent not actually sucking cock, while it is (intentionally, i assume) not used in reference to the actual cocksucking that’s happening on the page. 

also, "precise treatise" cracks me up, as someone currently writing what could be considered a precise treatise on this scene.

The image of Ancel... was joined in his fragmenting thoughts by the sudden harsh desire to get his hands on Laurent’s body and exact revenge—both for his actions and for his airy absence.

damen’s desire to get laurent’s attention because he wants to fight him, but also because he wants laurent to see him come… diabolical writing. craft. whatever. this is an objective and academic analysis.

Damen was... pushed back down onto his knees. Laurent was seated opposite, legs crossed. Damen’s eyes fixed on him, and looked nowhere else; his breathing was still noticeable, and his pulse rapid, but anger produced all the same effects.

who’s ancel?

additional thoughts on erotic elements in the garden scene: i think what i like here, is that… yeah, it’s horny. it’s indulgent, easily the most blatant instance of kink we’ve seen so far. but it’s not really what i think frequent readers of this kink genre would expect, or even want to read—it is a subversion, with laurent completely disrupting the basic scenario that everyone else (but damen) in the scene wants to mindlessly enjoy. 

but that subversion, to me, just makes it hotter. there’s physical stuff happening, sure, but the real eroticism comes from the words, emotions, and power exchange between laurent and damen. the scene doesn’t give the reader the simplicity of “someone topped, someone bottomed, here are several pages of mechanical description.” the actual sex act is described almost clinically, just how laurent dictates. and it’s definitely not as simple as who’s topping and who’s bottoming—whatever the fuck happens here is way weirder and messier than that, and so much more compelling. 

basically, i think that this scene fails to be hot in all the ways a reader of this kink genre would expect it to be hot. the real hotness comes from the bizarre subversion we get instead, that we just have to kind of accept without any closure or explanation. it’s either an unsexy sex scene, or a sexy not-sex scene. maybe it’s both. either way, it’s insane.

how can i replicate this? 

set up a thing that follows expectations. don’t actually do the thing. do something significantly more insane than the expected thing. do not elaborate on the insane thing, leaving more questions than answers, and move on as if it wasn’t insane at all. this is a good method for not-sex scenes, too.

Laurent, for his part, was relaxed, one arm spread out over the back of the bench.

laurent lean #4

‘I’ll offer for you, if you like. When the time comes. I wouldn’t want you in my bed, but you’d have all the same privileges. You might prefer that. I’d offer.’

context: this is the best possible way laurent can protect nicaise within the confines of their culture. and “you might prefer that”—laurent wants nicaise to be able to foster his intelligence and talents (his "privileges") as a growing person, without having to be a sexual object.

‘He gives them all up,’ said Laurent, ‘even if you’re more enterprising than the others have been.’ ‘He likes me better than the others.’ A scornful laugh. ‘You’re jealous.’ And then it was Nicaise’s turn to react to something he saw in Laurent’s face, and he said, with a horror Damen didn’t understand, ‘You’re going to tell him you want me.’ ‘Oh,’ said Laurent. ‘No. Nicaise . . . no. That would wreck you. I wouldn’t do that.’ Then his voice became almost tired. ‘Maybe it’s better if you think that I would. You have quite a good mind for strategy, to have thought of that. Maybe you will hold him longer than the others.’ For a moment it seemed as if Laurent would say something else, but in the end he just stood up from the bench, and held his hand out to the boy. ‘Come on. Let’s go. You can watch me get told off by my uncle.’

context: nicaise knows that anything laurent wants, his uncle will not let him have. believing that laurent hates him and would offer for him out of spite, nicaise takes the offer is a threat. laurent, who isn’t threatening him at all, realizes that nicaise is right. laurent’s attempts at protection would only get nicaise hurt. the best he can do is banter with the kid and look after him from a distance. this house is a fucking nightmare.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

TDP rewatch: autistic Soren?

I spent a lot of time going along with everyone else saying that Soren was a big dumbass. And for that, I would now like to apologize. I don’t think Soren’s dumb. I think he’s autistic. 

As an autistic person, I feel bad for not spotting this earlier. But, like Soren, I do have a tendency to believe what I’m told, especially when everyone is saying the same thing. And this may not be canon, ever, but that’s okay. I see Soren in a new light now, and I know that light. (Gods, S3 is really gonna wreck me now)

He doesn’t get sarcasm. He takes Rayla’s “obviously” sarcastic comment at face value. He’s also not good with metaphor, taking a long time to grasp “butter them up.” Once he’s figured out what he should do--lie about the king--he does a very bad job of it because the emotions he needs to embrace to sell the lie aren’t familiar to him.

He’s very good with rules. A father who needed a son who was rooted in the narrative of strength could easily have trained an autistic child to bind himself within those rules form a young age. It’ll be very hard for Soren to question rules that he consciously chose to follow himself.

He doesn’t understand the shifting of loyalties. First he’s a loyal Crownguard, and then he’s supposed to detain Callum because his dad asked him to? Soren’s genuinely confused.

He still chooses to protect Callum when the assassins attack, even shoving him to safety from Runaan’s arrow, because those old rules of loyalty to the royal family haven’t been shifted.

He’s also slow to react to the arrow striking him. He takes precious reaction time to study it closely. He’s probably never seen a Moonshadow assassin’s arrow before. It telescopes in three places. It’s green. It probably smells faintly of poison. Soren’s possibly also never been shot before. All these physical details are hitting him at once, all with equal force, and it takes him a moment to sort through them, process them, and remember that the arrow means the assassins have arrived.

He spends time and effort trying to speak others’ languages, but he doesn’t always get it right. He knows Claudia’s nose trick but he can’t perfectly replicate it. He misinterprets Rayla’s angry intent as personal interest. He really tries to connect with his dad by offering his “see-saw” comment (which is actually right on the money as far as the show’s themes are concerned). 

He’s oddly focused on the difference between a prince and a “step-prince.” Not in a mean way, though. He thinks it means he’s paying attention to small details, which people often like. Not particularly in this case, though.

He really does just want to fit in. He does whatever Viren says because he wants to be accepted, not just as Viren’s son but as a not-weird, not-useless person.

Claudia’s the one who makes the jokes. He happily lets her lead on the mission to Mount Kaelik and has no ego attached to being in charge of her.

He’s really awkward with his brotherly feels when he calls her “weep-ridden” and offers to help by punching Callum. Autistics can struggle with language, especially in unfamiliar emotional territory and under stress.

He hyperfocuses on being a Crownguard, though, which is why he’s so good at it, and why he’s in charge. He does nothing but train. He loves being a Crownguard. He knows that role inside and out. He knows when to order men into position, and he knows when to shut up and hand the king his sword.

He insists that sweeping the leg is not a thing, though, because it’s outside his training. None of the Crownguard instructors taught him that, and so it is outside the rules. 

When he votes that Corvus is a traitor and gets Claudia to vote with him, he’s reinforcing the rules that he learned. The black-and-white shield on his armor isn’t just an indicator that he’s straddling the line between good and evil and will one day have to make a choice. It’s showing the way Soren sees the world: everything is either inside the rules, or outside them. Soren doesn’t see gray areas. But he might learn to very soon.

He’s cheerily cold-blooded about lopping Runaan’s head off and trying to kill Rayla because empathy is a strange animal for autistic folks. Sometimes it’s really high, and sometimes it’s nonexistent, even within the same person. Between a low empathy for elves and his Crownguard training, Soren legitimately doesn’t see any problem with killing them, even at the age of 18.

He knows the rules on how to deal with dragons: you fight them. And he gets a whole town torched. He was entirely unprepared. But his ego wasn’t in this fight. He freed Corvus because he understands that a Crownguard’s job is to protect Katolis, and that includes the townsfolk. And he admitted his mistake to Claudia because filters are hard under stress, and the truth just pops out like that.

When he’s paralyzed, Soren has no ego attached to remaining a Crownguard, either. His hyperfocus has broken. He was growing increasingly stressed by his dad’s secret mission. And he immediately seeks a new hyperfocus: poetry. He gives it a shot, and he’s terrible at it. He hasn’t actually internalized any poetry rules yet. He’d become a good poet pretty quickly, if he had the chance. But Claudia came to heal him instead.

As S2 ends and the siblings head home together, Soren has no plan anymore. He has no rules for what’s gonna happen, and he can’t anticipate Viren’s reaction but he expects it’ll be bad. He asks Claudia for help in understanding what his parameters should be, because that’s a long trip home, and that’s a lot of time spent worrying over scenarios that he has to consider because he can’t narrow it down--every possibility is a legitimate possibility to him.

[unfinished tdp meta]

[lullaebies]

Hey! Can you do some headcanons on what it would be like for Helaena and Aegon as parents if the Dance never happened? They were really young when they both died, so would they have more babies if they lived? What would it be like for the twins and Maelor to grow into teenagers, what would the marriage plans for them be like? Love your content btw ❤️

Oh sure!! This should be very fun. The Dance not happening AU could mean a lot of things so there would be many variables, so bear with me a bit haha. (And thank you for the compliment, dear! <333) [also I'm sorry for the length of this if you ask me about the kids I really can speak for HOURS about my hcs.] Helaegon as Parents, Part 2 - No Dance AU Headcanons

⁎ For the if they had more babies question - probably yes! I don't see them abstaining. I think as the first kids grow older Helaena might specifically want more childen, but generally they would just happen as it is the way of life, regardless of planning or not planning. ⁎ Speaking about more children - Helaena and Aegon would be so bad at naming, lmao. They wait until the baby is out to decide, lol. I think Jaehaerys was named after the Old King via Alicent influence and Jaehaera was named in tow to fit, so Maelor would've been the first true name they've chose (I personally imagine that was from Helaena; also for the record, I genuinely don't believe it had anything to do with Maegor lol). Anyways, they would suck at it, and I imagine they'll have a lot more joke names they talk about. Imagine Aegon coming to Helaena like "Daemon the Younger. To piss uncle off." (He got very inspired from Aegon III's naming pettiness😂) and Helaena is like "I should kill you and make our son Aegon the Youngest" LMAO. ⁎ I always said this, but I do feel like there would be a cycle of hardship in the family; Aegon and Helaena were both not exposed to the best of parenting and Aegon will continue to struggle with his substance abuse/vices, which will obviously have effect. I have gone on several tangents on how I can see him and Jaehaerys butting heads like crazy as the father vs the oldest son. I do think there are times Aegon would try harder to be an active parent, especially after Jaehaerys and him get into a big fight, or Jaehaera mediates, or Maelor being visibly upset. I also think there inherent guilt in Aegon for a lot of things, I do think he will try to be better after he gets a few slaps from his first children, as he doesn't want to be like Viserys. His younger children will get the better of it, likely. I like to think he could find power in the fact his kids believe in him still despite everything. ⁎ Helaena would be such a sticky mom ahhh. Jaehaerys could grow taller than Otto and she would still look at him like he's a baby, Jaehaera she would want kept close too (As Alicent wanted her close, cough) and not even speaking about Maelor! I do believe all the kiddos would have her side on most things - Jaehaerys and Maelor being Biggest Defender no. 1 and Intern Smoll Defender no. 2. Jaehaera is The Conciliator coded and she tends to be midway, she'll probably be the one who is most honest with Helaena. ⁎ If Helaegon have more kids, needless to say the first three would be a pretty hands on crew of sibling help. Probably particularly the twins. I think Maelor might have to go through an ick phase at having a younger sibling always on his toes, though really he was just the same to the twins when he was born.

⁎ Some Teenage personality headcanons: Jaehaerys - mr. Trying to be good enough and work hard to be good enough. Extrovert using humor to cope, can be shady and also defensive like dad. Feels like he has a very big responsibility to help mom and family. He takes to a warhammer as a weapon in the future as he has a grip of six✨ Jaehaera - Careful in her steps, emotional intellegence based girl who is a bit too kind on other people sometimes. Likes to sew, and she makes her own dolls as she grows older. Introverted but Tries. Can be awkward when she's not used to someone or can't tell what they're like. Maelor - forever the first family baby, but he is the type to try and push against it LOL. I actually imagine him a bit more bookish and curious. Skinnier kid but has quips and he talks back. I think he's shyer outside of the family, people that don't know him gaslight Aegon his son is not a menace at all, "all he does is read books in the library and be cute are u fr" vibe, but in reality he learned from brother to not take shit. He's a Grandma kid for sure, I like to think he reads to Alicent back when she's elderly. ⁎ To end this off, on marriage proposals and the likes: I think no matter what AU spoken of, one thing that Helaegon would always agree on is that they would prefer their kids to find a love marriage, and I very much believe they would not be into putting them into Targ incest shenanigans unless the kids express they want it. this is one thing they want to break the chain in and are in full agreement - helaegon do not want the kids to have the same burdens they had to deal with. Overall this topic is muddy because its very much depends on the cirucmstances of things, but in the grand scheme of things - if helaegon are not pressured for alliances/not reigining king and queen, love marriages would be preferred if not at least arranged marriages where the prospective spouse is well regarded and of fitting status. If they are pressured for alliances as king and queen - Houses like House Lannister that are Green supporters will likely be considered first, then general houses that can benefit the crown and stability of the realm (possibly even Rhaenyra's family if its to keep the peace), and only then proper houses where the kids find someone they like. It is the feudalistic monarchy way. At the end there would be an attempt to give the best for them, one way or the other.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

For make me write!!

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (I love this fic and everything about it and I can’t even go into why but thank you for writing and sharing and I’m excited about part 2)

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡(The last chapter was so sweet and I’m so excited to see where Buck and Eddie’s journey is next with the wedding and future plans. And yay for good communication).

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮 (Ah the Bobby seeing Buck’s past had me in tears I don’t think Im ready for the opposite of that)

🚨🚨🚨🚨(I went from emotional to OH NO real quick)

🩸🩸 (Eddie healing from all his trauma in this one is just *chefs kiss*)

💐(The couple of snippets I have seen, this one about May just seems so interesting! Plus I love getting to see recurring/non-main characters heads!)

HI!!! THANK YOU!

30 for 🦮 (THANKS! I am so excited to share Pt. 2)

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 One, trying to work from home with a little kid in the house. Two, knowing that, elsewhere, Eddie is struggling considerably with missing his son. And, three, the fact that Cranberry seems to be matching Buck’s bored, cagey energy. 

Christopher is a great kid. Really, the best. But he’s still a kid. And the novelty of online school - for both student and teacher - means a lack of order and structure that leads to him inevitably seeking out Buck several times an hour. Buck has to give him a stern talk about interrupting meetings if it’s not an emergency. And no, needing a Rice Krispie Square is not an emergency. Although Buck understands the urgency. He’s been snacking on them lately, too, and they’re sort of addictive.The point is, it’s not easy sharing the same space with a kid literally all the time with no breaks. Even a kid he genuinely adores. Especially when he’s never been anyone’s primary caregiver before, other than Cranberry. 

As for Eddie, Buck knows he’s not adjusting great. They talk every single day. Often multiple times a day. He tries to put up a brave face, but he misses his son and feels badly for leaving him again. 

“It just brings back old shit,” he explains one evening over FaceTime. “Like I’m back where I started. Even if I know that’s not true.”

He’s not alone at least. Hen and Chim have both moved into Buck’s apartment temporarily, too. Which Buck thinks sounds crazy crowded. But he gets it. They both have families to protect. And with Maddie recently announcing her pregnancy, Chim is extra anxious. So, at least Eddie has company. People to look out for him at work and away from it. Because right now, there’s not a lot Buck can do for him, other than be a constant ear. 

“You’re already doing the most important thing for me,” Eddie argues when Buck expresses this. 

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24 for ⚡(thank you!!!! I am plowing full steam ahead on this wedding hahah because I want to get past it):

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“Shall we take a look at the bedrooms?” Gianna asks. 

“Definitely,” Eddie replies. 

She leads them down the hallway to where three white-walled bedrooms of different sizes wait to be viewed. The master has a lot of space. It’s got an odd sort of shape, longer than it is deep. But the ensuite bathroom is kind of a dream. Shower and tub. Spacious. Recently redone, so it doesn’t need any work. 

Yeah, Buck can see himself enjoying this master suite very much. And enjoying Eddie in it, too… 

The other bedrooms are good sizes too. One is almost as big as the master, minus the closet space and bathroom. 

“Chris would appreciate that,” Eddie says. 

The other is a bit tinier, but would be perfect for a, well, tinier person. 

By the end of the house tour, Buck realizes he doesn’t actually have a single major complaint. 

“What do you think?” Gianna asks. 

Eddie looks at Buck hopefully. He likes it. Buck knows he likes it. 

“I think we should talk about it,” Buck concedes. “It’s got everything we need and it’s close to family.”

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18 for 🔮(TBH the Bobby one is sadder):

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He doesn’t matter here. 

He retracts his hand. 

“Charlie, please,” their mother says.

Charlie huffs. “Fine. Whatever.”

The rest of the drive is silent. Bobby wipes the tears off his face, presses his cheek to the glass of the window, and stares off into space. Buck wishes he could crack open his head and look inside. He wants so desperately to understand what he’s thinking. Past and present. 

Buck wonders if Bobby has always been so hard to read. If he has always kept what’s hurting him so close to his chest. Did this start recently? With his father dying? Or before? How much agency does a kid have in their emotional reactions? Buck knew he often felt out of control at this age.

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12 for 🚨(hahahaha sorry):

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“Are you sure you’re okay with me taking your room, Eddie?” Hen asks when they arrive on the first day. “One of us can take the couch. Really.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Eddie insists. “Buck and I can share. No biggie.”

Eddie hasn’t slept in his bed in weeks.

“Makes sense,” Buck adds. “Then it’s only two people per washroom. Much better shower schedule.” 

Hen raised an eyebrow at Eddie, who just offers her an awkward smile.

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6 for 🩸(THANK YOU!):

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“You can’t escape!” The guy shouted. Loud enough to indicate to Eddie that he had no idea how close Eddie was to him. 

“You all have to die for this to be over, you know” He continued. “It’s the only way!”

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3 for 💐 (THANKS!):

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“I know,” April shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to have another set of hands, though, does it?”

There’s a confidence in her tone, like she just knows she’s so capable and good at this.