#He is saying his body should trying to exist then

[dr-flipflops]

*panic*

Uuuuuhhh nothing!!!

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[tactical-jellyfish]

The Mistakes That Have Been Made

Part two :)

Warnings!: Angst, angst, and more angst. Reader will be MAD sad for most of this. Poorly-practiced, unhealthy polyamory. Reader will experience a LOT of gender and body dysphoria over the course of this (though I will do my best to keep it gender-neutral throughout, bear with me), but there WILL be comfort over that.

You spent most of the night following the surgery in a light doze, after a certain man named Gary walks you to your room, only slightly entertaining your efforts to walk upright on your own two legs.

Of course, he can't stay, he's got things to do, and he's not your fucking nurse, but he still makes you unlock your phone and watches you set the timer so you take your antibiotics first thing in the morning.

He still leaves to fill up his own water bottle, and sets it by your tiny, shitty nightstand, and he still brings the thing to your lips to make you take a couple sips, even as you try not to drift off right then and there.

When you look up with tired eyes, he offers a small, sympathetic smile, and leans down to gently bump your forehead with his own.

It's... an oddly endearing gesture, considering that's a grown-ass man, but your delirious smile seems to inspire more of that gentle treatment, because when his hands are free again, he's finger-spelling to you once more.

I googled some stuff for the recovery. Should I send you the links to the articles?

You melt, just a little bit, but nod, tiredly resting your heavy head on the pillow beneath it, just really soaking in not feeling like you're dying. Feels great, you've gotta say.

"Yeah. That'd be real sweet of you, luvie. Thanks for all the help."

He beams at you. You hate to admit it, but you smile, too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day after is slow for you. Seeing as you're one organ down, it feels perfectly fit to work quietly in your own small office space, finding more information for prospective ops down the line.

It's comfortably-paced, much unlike how you'd been before your mistake. Back then, you were frantic, under a deadline you knew wasn't realistic trying to find documents that didn't ever exist.

Your job feels so much better without Price and the team on your ass. They never understand how discovery works, they think it just happens in a way that's frankly, stupid.

And, you're no liar, you'll say that getting periodic texts from your new friend really does brighten your mood.

Roach was a riot. And you forgot how it felt to be with that energy, the spark of new meat that you had felt yourself losing in the team.

He's a good lad, might have to get him a dinner, as-

Your train of thought is (rudely) interrupted by your door opening, without a knock or anything, and an irritated Johnny standing behind it.

"Mind tellin' me why ye werenae runnin' feckin' drills today? Ye said ye'd fuckin' spot me."

You're not surprised that his voice is supremely annoying to you right now. Normally, that Scottish slang is a comforting noise, a reminder of the company you hold, and how they've always had your back.

This time, you kind of want to knock him in the jaw for it.

This anger, it will pass.

Maybe.

"If you've got an issue, go to Price. It's not my job to fill you in on every little detail of my life, and I have a job other than training that I need to be up-to-date with."

The metal of Gary's water bottle makes a quiet noise on the textured plastic of your desk as you raise it to take another sip, effectively silencing Johnny for just a second as you hear him sputter to himself.

"Th' fuck are you- you're not drinking coffee."

Of course that's the thing he notices. He can't notice when you're on death's door begging for help, but he knows how you take a morning beverage.

You really wanna punch him now.

"Detox."

You answer is terse, not quite like you, and he furrows his brows.

"Ye're hidin' somethin', ain't ye? S' it 'cause of the mission? 'Cause that was a stupid call, an' you can't fix stupid."

What a way to make amends, Soap, show up at my door and insult me after a brief interrogation. Charming.

"My god, would it kill you to shut your mouth just once? Is that too big an ask, now?"

Harsh. That was harsh. You know it was, and that it was a mistake, but when you open your mouth to apologize, Johnny beats you to it.

"Fuck you."

The slam of the door makes you cringe, and look back down to your documents, the little notes you've drawn in the margins and the highlighter that's smudged the pen just a little bit.

Before you dwell too long, there's a quiet ping.

A small, stupid looping video pops up when you open the offending chat.

It's a poorly-rendered cockroach, spinning is stupidly whimsical circles and turning colors as a song you don't care to name plays in the background. The text under it is what makes you soften.

medicine checkk in!!! take the medcine if you havent :)

His spelling is amateurish at best.

You're really fucking screwed, with that one, and you know it, but still, you set the phone down, and open a new tab.

British Sign Language basics. You could do that.

Part One | Previous | Next

[kdollikesthighs]

The last time: part 1

Itzy Lia x m reader A/N: Like all my itzy part 1s I'm trying out, this has no smut yet. Just fluff. Smut will come in the next chapters. Word count: 2,568 words

The music is loud, but not loud enough. This place smells like sweat and cheap alcohol, the exact same mixture you can find at any college party. People shout over each other, cups crinkle under people’s dancing feet, and everyone is touching everyone.

You should be enjoying yourself, but even the loudest distractions can’t prevent your eyes from being locked on to Lia.

She stands near the edge of the room, far away from the life of the party, arms crossed, tears swelling in the corners of her eyes but refusing to spill over. Her boyfriend—the eternal class act that he is—leans in close, probably spouting some bullshit. His expression is all smooth confidence, but hers is hurt. You don’t need to hear what he’s saying. You already know. You saw him, lips on another girl, bodies flush against each other like Lia never existed in the first place. And now, he’s feeding her some excuse, no doubt in his mind that she will just swallow it like she always does.

But something’s different this time. She’s not buying it, and she’s not giving in. And then, just like that, he sighs, throws up his hands, and walks away. No fight, no desperation. He just walks away from her like she was never worth the effort.

You don’t even hesitate. No time to. She’s your best friend after all. You move.

Lia barely reacts as you step in beside her, but when you nudge her arm, she exhales, already privy to your antics. “Not now.”

“If it’s up to you, it’s not ever,” you correct. You don’t wait for permission. You snag a bottle of whiskey from the counter next to her and pop the cap. “Drink with me!”

She hesitates. She’s reluctant. “I don’t feel like drinking.”

“And I don’t feel like letting you mope tonight.” You take a swig straight from the bottle and hand it to her. It burns, but it’s bright and distracting. “Come on. When was the last time you lived a little?”

She eyes you, then the bottle, then you again. Something shifts in her expression—anger, defiance, something that reminds her of memories long buried. She snatches the bottle from your grasp and takes a drink. It burns, and she coughs, but she doesn’t hand it back.

You grin. “That’s the spirit!”

She scoffs through the coughs, but the corner of her lips twitch. “Shut up.”

You’re already scanning the party, looking for something to pull her out of her own head. There’s a group playing beer pong, hyping each other up like they’re at the Olympics. Perfect.

You drag Lia along with you, as you approach the would-be champions. Without warning, you grab a ball off the table and line up a shot. The guy who was about to throw blinks at you. “Dude, what the hell?”

You ignore him and flick your wrist towards victory. The ball arcs, bounces once, and lands straight into a cup. The crowd reacts with a mix of cheers and protests, but you don’t care. You turn to Lia, smirking with satisfaction, and hand her the next ball. “Your turn.”

She stares at you. Her body is shrinking, and it looks like she might retreat into her shell. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re up.”

Lia glances at the crowd watching, the challenge hanging in the air. She looks at you, your smile going from one ear to the other encouraging her to partake. She takes a deep breath, takes the ball, straightens her shoulders, and throws. The ball drops into a cup flawlessly.

The room erupts. The guy whose game you interrupted throws his arms up in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Lia doesn’t gloat. She just picks up the cup, downs the beer inside, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand like she’s been doing this her whole life. Then, she looks at you.

You whistle. “Damn.”

She smirks. “What can I say?”

You step in close, voice level adjusted to be just for her. “This is fun, isn’t it?”

She exhales, something loosening in her. “Yeah. It kind of is.”

But you’re not stopping here.

You scan the room for the next move. You spot it, your next target—an old speaker, unattended and inviting on a counter, playing the same overplayed pop song. With Lia in tow, you stride over and connect your phone. The music cuts off, and a few people groan, but you just open your library and hit play.

A completely different song blasts through the room. Something more obscure, something wilder.

People react immediately, some booing, others cheering. Lia’s eyes react instinctively. “Wait, this song—”

“You like this song,” you fall in, leaving no doubt about the reason for your choice.

She laughs, the sound light, unburdened but restrained. “I do.”

“So dance.”

She hesitates, but you grab her hand, spinning her once. She stumbles into you, laughing despite herself. The party moves on around you, but for a moment, it’s just the two of you, caught in your own little world.

You can see it on her face. For the first time tonight, Lia isn’t thinking about him.

But the moment shatters. Your efforts were beginning to bear fruit, but they were spoiled too soon.

From across the room, he approaches. Her boyfriend’s voice, loud and annoyed, pierces the carefully crafted atmosphere. “Lia, what the hell are you doing?”

You don’t even have to turn to see him pushing his way through the crowd, eyes locked on her, clenched fists like he was preparing for a fight. The fun, the freedom, it all fades from existence, from her face—hesitation, guilt trying to creep back in.

Not this time. You’ve seen it happen countless times before now.

You lean in close, voice out her boyfriend's reach. “Let’s get out of here.”

She looks at you, uncertain of it all.

Then, her boyfriend calls her name again, sharper this time, as if she’s making another mistake. But she knows better.

Lia grabs your wrist in her first act of defiance. “Let’s go.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You let her lead you outside the house, but once outside, the roles reverse. You don’t let her pause, let her stop here. Instead, you take her even further away from the party to the first and best thing your mind can think of.

The arcade is alive with flashing neon lights, the chaotic symphony of electronic jingles and mixed reactions filling the air. You shove a few bills into the token machine, spilling a handful into your palm before tossing a few to Lia. She catches them like it’s a practiced act, but her expression is skeptical.

“You seriously dragged me to an arcade?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at your great escape.

“You seriously gonna tell me you’re too cool for this?” You grin, nudging her towards the air hockey tables. “Come on, we’re settling this once and for all. Air hockey. I used to smoke you all the time. Loser gets a punishment.”

Lia chortles, but there’s a flicker of amusement behind her eyes. “You’re on.”

You pick your table, and from the second the puck drops, it’s war. Lia is fast, but her shots are wild. She misses easy blocks, fumbling the paddle once, but she’s so caught up in the fun she doesn’t notice how you start easing up, letting her slip goals past you. When she scores the final point, she throws her arms up, victorious.

“Destroying you has never felt better,” she teases, gloating as if she just settled a lifelong rivalry.

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “Alright, alright. Fair’s fair. What’s my punishment?”

She taps a finger against her chin before smirking. “Close your eyes.”

You sigh but comply. You’re not a sore loser, not after choosing to be one. A few moments later, she presses a cold can into your hands. You pop it open and take a sip—immediately regretting it. “What the hell is this?!”

Lia bursts into laughter. “Carbonated milk. Consider it payback.”

You sputter the concoction, wiping your mouth of its filth. “That’s foul.”

Her grin is as proud as it was mischievous. “Exactly.”

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself. You’ve missed this. Missed spending time with her. “Alright, let’s move on. I’m winning you something.”

You drag her to the claw machine, and she crosses her arms, unimpressed. “Please, these things are rigged.”

“Not when you’ve got my skills.” You crack your knuckles, putting on an exaggerated show of focus as you deftly maneuver the claw. Lia observes your performance, still skeptical, until the claw actually snags onto a small stuffed bear and holds on long enough to drop it into the chute.

You scoop it out and hand it to her, the bravado of a man who won a teddy bear ten times the size you just had. “Told you.”

She takes it, eyes softer than before. “I… didn’t think you’d actually get it.”

“Guess I’m full of surprises.”

She holds the bear against her chest for a moment before stuffing it into her bag. “Alright, I’ll admit. That was kind of sweet.”

“Kind of?”

She rolls her eyes in the same mock annoyance she must have learned from you. Or was it you who learned it from her? Either way, she doesn’t argue any further.

Eventually, you both step out of the arcade looking for your next distraction, the night air cool against your skin. Lia stretches her arms over her head, exhaling. “Alright, what’s next?”

You glance around, spotting a near-empty grocery store parking lot, an idea sparking in your mind. A childish smile spreads across your face. “I think I see our next challenge.”

Lia follows the direction of your gaze to an abandoned shopping cart and lets out an incredulous laugh. “No way.”

“Oh, come on. You trust me, right?” Your rebuttal is tempting, tempting enough to get her to hum as she considers it.

She shakes her head but, to your delight, climbs into the cart. “Alright. Just don’t kill me.”

You take a running start, the wheels rattling as you push her through the empty lot. Lia shrieks high pitched and filled with life, clutching the sides as you pick up speed, laughter bubbling past her lips. It’s reckless and stupid, but it feels good—feels free.

When you finally slow down, she’s breathless, her face suddenly inches from yours. She doesn’t move away. You don’t want to either.

The cool air becomes heavy, something new unraveling in the little distance between your eyes.

Before you can say something you didn’t stop to think about, Lia clears her throat and looks away. “We should—keep going. What’s next?”

You nod, shaking off the moment just as easily as it came. “Let’s go find something else to conquer.”

You end up outside a rundown photo booth near an old convenience store, its flickering sign barely hanging on. The joy on your face says everything Lia needs to know. She eyes it, then you. “Seriously?”

“Come on. Gotta commemorate the night somehow!”

She huffs, exhaling air through her nose in a quick burst but follows you inside. The cramped space forces you close, her shoulder pressing into yours as she scoots barely into frame. The first flash goes off as she makes a face, sticking her tongue out.You paint a big smile on your face for the picture, throwing an arm around her to pull her into the frame for the next one.

Then, right before the third flash, you can feel Lia’s body tense up against yours. She’s planning something. She looks at you, really looks at you, before smirking mischievously. You can’t help but wonder what prank she has planned to pull on you, but you’ll let it happen nonetheless. Cheering her up was worth it all.

And then, instead of some grand, over-the-top stunt, she does something quieter. She leans in, sliding deeper under your arm, her head resting against your shoulder. Her fingers interlock with yours, and she doesn’t let go.

The camera flashes.

You glance down at her, your chest squeezing tighter then when you were pushing her around in a cart. She doesn’t say anything, just stays there, close, warm. The playful air shifts—becomes something calm.

She doesn’t move away, doesn’t laugh it off. Just holds your hand a little tighter, waiting. You rub your thumb over hers. It’s soothing. You’re just friends. You had never even considered Lia as something else. But what if…?

The next flash of the camera captures the sudden stillness, the quiet storm brewing between and inside of you.

You let out a breath, finally looking away. “Come on,” you murmur, squeezing her hand once before standing. “I know where we can go next.”

As you step out into the night, Lia doesn’t let go of your hand right away. She lingers, thumb brushing against your skin before finally, hesitantly, letting it slip away. Neither of you comment further on it.

After a few moments of walking in silence, you glance at her. “You remember the old jungle gym?”

She blinks, then lets out a soft laugh. “From middle school? The one we used to sit at, talking about nothing for hours?”

“Exactly, that’s the one! Haven’t been there in years.”

Lia tilts her head, considering. Then she smiles, a green light signal to go ahead. “Let’s go.”

You climb to the top of the jungle gym together, the city humming in the distance, but here, beneath the stars, everything feels still.

Lia stretches out, staring up at the sky absentmindedly. “It’s weird. I can’t remember the last time I’ve done this.”

“What? We used to climb this thing all the time.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “No, not that! Just… let go like this.”

You watch her, the way her hair falls against the worn metal, the way the moonlight catches in her eyes. “We used to do that too all the time,” you remind her. “Back when we had nothing better to do than waste time here.”

She smiles faintly. “Yeah. Before everything got… complicated.”

You don’t say anything, only offering a smile that reaches half of your lips. You just watch her as she rolls onto her side, propping herself on an elbow facing you. “Why are you doing this?” she asks suddenly, eyes searching yours as if they’ll provide the answer.

You blink, caught off-guard by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”

“This.” She gestures vaguely around her and towards you. “Dragging me around, making me forget about him.”

Your throat tightens. You think about saying something inflammatory about her boyfriend, but don’t even want to let a thought of him taint this place. “Because I hate seeing you like that.”

She studies you, her gaze flickering over your face. She looks down. Her smile is small but real. Like she’s happy she’s here now, but already mourning the fact that it won’t last. “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s easy when you’re with me.”

When you’re starving, and you have a bite, you only end up craving more. That same hunger is consuming Lia right now. She’s feasting on this moment, indulging in every reckless, fleeting moment like she's been starving for it. Watching her like this, so alive, enjoying each minute she has—you can’t help but feel the hunger too.

[minorlyatfault]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 ! j. todd x f!reader

𝒮ypnosis: after a rough(er than usual) night, jason peter todd seeks comfort in your arms.

𝒲arnings: ooc jason todd (?) grammatical errors (?) (my poor attempt at being poetic & my writing while half asleep.)

𝒩ote: reader is slightly(too) girly(im sorry), reader has a bunny named mr. bugs bunny. the pastel color of reader's bed was not specified, so you decide which shade of pastel reader 's bed is.

jason's already spent by the time he opens your apartment door. his body is lead, bruised, scraped, & he has no idea what the hell else he beat himself up over tonight. his leather jacket weighs him down more than it should, his boots drag along the floor, & all he wants to do is collapse into something soft and forget the world exists.

& that's just what he does.

&, for some reason, the moment he catches sight of you curled up in bed, wrapped in your cocoon of pastel blankets & surrounded by stuffed animals, something about him just… melts.

your(that is now 'ours') room is ridiculously cute. like, embarrassingly so. fairy lights dangle in the walls. everything is surrounded in this gorgeous warm pink light. there is a bookshelf full of novels, tiny knick-knacks, & far too many candles. scattered around on the floor, there are pastel pillows, &, of course, mr. bugs bunny—the oldest stuffed rabbit there is, right next to jason, chilling away.

it was nothing like anything jason had known. nothing he was familiar with. nothing he's used to.

he would feel out of place in your room—big, scarred, forever covered in blood & gunpowder. but somehow it doesn't. it couldn't.

it just feels like home.

he exhales, running his hand through his hair before shedding his jacket, letting it flop over the back of the chair. his boots land on the floor with a thud; he rubs a tired hand down his face. normally he would try to shake off the weight of the night before getting into bed. and normally, he'd have to take a shower. he refuses to be close to you by the end of the day, & he, having the scent of smoke.

but tonight he just doesn't have it in him.

the mattress dips as he climbs in beside you, & you stir, blinking up at him sleepily.

"jay?"

your voice is groggy, soft, & he feels his chest tighten just hearing it. you barely open your eyes, just enough to see him, & instead of saying anything, you just lift the blanket in silent invitation. an invitation for him to get closer.

& jason doesn't think twice.

he slides under the covers, the blanket's & your(mostly yours)warmth immediately surrounding him, & instead of pulling you to him like usual, he does something he rarely does—he rests his head on your chest.

usually, it's you who rests on his chest, as it makes him feel like he's protecting you, even when unconscious. it allows you to feel vulnerable while he guards you (in the most non-sexist way, this man KNOWS not to underestimate a woman).

but this time, he lets himself be the one who is protected, the one who is vulnerable. & you never felt prouder than when he does this, trusting you—not that he already doesn't—to witness a side of him where it's him who is asking for protection.

it's quiet for a moment. the only sound is your heartbeat, steady & slow beneath his ear.

& holy hell, jason almost melts on the spot as your arms wrap around him, fingers threading into his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

it's ridiculous how good this feels.

"you okay?" you murmur sleepily.

jason just hums, nuzzling further into you, like he can bury himself in your warmth & stay there forever.

your fingers continue tracing lines through his hair, slow and gentle, & every once in a while, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. he shudders a shaky breath, some of the tension in his muscles; disburden.

rough nights are normal for him. he's used to them. but this? this—you, your warmth, your heartbeat steady against his ear—this is not normal. it's… something else. something better. and gods, he loves it.

"bad night?" you ask after a while.

jason sighs against your skin. "something like that."

you hum softly, rubbing slow circles into his back. "wanna talk about it?"

"not really."

you nod, "fine." you don't push, don't ask for details. you just keep holding him, keep running your fingers through his hair, & somehow, that's better than anything else you could say.

& jason?

jason lets himself sink into it.

because he doesn't get this often. he doesn't do this often. letting someone hold him, letting himself be held—it makes him feel vulnerable in a way that still freaks him out. but right now, he just doesn't care.

right now, he just wants you.

& you want him to realize that he can experience this as much as he wants. you will make him realize that he's always welcome.

"you know," you murmur, voice teasing now, "for someone so big & "scary", you make a pretty good teddy bear."

jason groans, tucking his face further into your chest. "don't start."

you laugh, & he can feel your laugh vibrate beneath his cheek.

"just saying," you say, your fingers brushing through his hair again. "the red hood, gotham's biggest badass, currently snuggled up in a pastel colored bed, cuddling a stuffed rabbit—"

"i am not cuddling the damn rabbit."

you tilt your head a little, gazing down at him with a smug little grin. "jay. you literally are."

jason scowls, shifting slightly, &—goddammit. sure enough, mr. bugs bunny is half-squished beneath his arm. he glares at it like it personally offended him.

you snicker. "guess that makes him your new best friend."

jason lets out the heaviest sigh of his life. "i hate this."

"you love this."

"no."

"you love me," you sing-song, dragging your fingers through his hair again, making him shiver.

jason groans dramatically. "yeah, yeah. that, i do."

you giggle, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "then you’re just gonna have to accept the fact that you & mr. bugs bunny are besties now."

jason huffs, but instead of responding, he just pulls you even closer, tucking his face into your neck.

you smile & wrap your arms tighter around him.

& then neither of you say anything.

gotham is cold & dark & loud. so dull. with so many bloodshed. so many crime. but in this ridiculously pastel bed, in the fairy lights & pastel blankets, all pressed against the one person that makes him feel like he has a place—everything's warm.

everything's quiet.

he is safe. you are safe.

& jason, for once in his goddamn life—

lets himself rest. in the arms of the woman he cherishes.

call it what you want, but at long last, the knight who has silently stood watch over his beloved princess falls onto his sword, surrendering himself into the softness of sleep. he allows her warmth to be the one protecting him. trusting her to guard him as well. & she, his guardian, holds him with such care, in safety, & one day, the norm will be reversed.

© minorlyatfault

[maxiine]

Heavy

This was inspired by Kaye’s animation

TW: PTSD, depression and survivors guilt.

======================================================================

There’s blood on his hands.

Or at least, there should be.

Bakugo stares down at them, flexing his fingers, waiting for something—anything—to feel real. But his skin is clean. The scars, though, are deeper than before, twisting like phantom pains up his arms, over his chest—through his heart.

He shouldn’t be here.

The thought is a constant hum in his skull, like a bomb that never stops ticking. It follows him everywhere, through the sterile halls of the hospital, through the weight of his friends’ worried glances, through the endless nights where he wakes up choking on the taste of ash.

He remembers dying.

He remembers the pain—sharp, white-hot, and then nothing at all.

He remembers looking up at the sky, the battlefield collapsing around him, the cold settling into his bones.

And then—

He was here again.

Breathing. Living. Existing.

A second chance. That’s what they call it. Like it’s a gift. Like it’s something he should be grateful for. Like he isn’t drowning under the weight of it.

He shuts them out. The extras, his friends—hell, even the damn nerd. The ones who keep knocking at his door, trying to drag him back into a world that feels heavier than ever.

“Is someone banging at my door? ‘Cause I just wanna be alone.”

He hears them, but he never answers. Because what is he supposed to say? That he can’t look them in the eyes without feeling the ghost of his own death? That every time he closes his eyes, he’s back there—watching himself bleed out, watching Shigaraki grin, watching his body give out while everyone screamed his name?

He clenches his fists. His heart beats, steady and strong—a cruel reminder that it shouldn’t be.

It isn’t fair.

Someone else paid the price for his life. Someone else had to die because he wasn’t strong enough. Because he wasn’t fast enough. Because he was reckless, selfish—stupid.

His chest tightens.

The world outside keeps moving, but he’s stuck. Trapped in a moment he can’t change. In a war he already lost.

And for the first time in his life—

Bakugo Katsuki doesn’t know if he wants to fight anymore.

======================================================================

[what-have-i-unleashed]

counting stars

oops forgot about this for some reasons.... hey pspspsps @qin-qin16 come get your food i promise this has no allergies at all :3

“how do you like the stars?” killer asks color as they both lie in the grass, staring up at the night sky. killer has his arms folded behind his head, a contemplating noise in his throat before he continues.

“i know you’ve got some poetic stuff to say about it, hippie boy. something about hope, love, destiny, or whatever.” he plucks and rolls a blade of grass between his fingers, then flicks it away. “me? i hate them so much. i don’t think i’ve ever told you, huh?”

silence. killer takes it as a cue to keep talking.

“they all look so bright and near each other in the sky. but the reality is, they’re just there all alone in the vast universe. distant. cold. burning their last embers of life on their lonesome. or worse, existing in vain while a black hole slowly consumes them. nothing pretty, really.”

color still doesn’t speak, leaving killer to simmer in the cold night air. normally, this would be the part where they argue. color would insist that there is beauty in the world, that there is meaning if you just look hard enough. and then it would devolve into some self-righteous rant about the goodness in people, about how killer is never beyond saving. all misguided belief that killer has tried to beat him out of again and again to no avail.

it is kind of cute actually, how much color actually believes in it.

killer will never admit it though. because that would be a weakness, and weakness is a liability, something to be gutted out of in order to survive. in this world, it’s kill or be killed. and yet, some people don’t seem to get the memo – color being one of them. always reaching out to killer, always trying to drag him towards an ideal life that doesn’t exist. killer should feel annoyed, but it actually feels kind of nice, knowing there is someone who cares for him this much to put up with his flaws. to be willing to reforge him back into a shape they desire. even if it’s futile. even if it’s stupid.

to be loved is to be changed, after all.

and maybe, he’s just started to be primed for change right now. a steel knife thrown into a furnace ready to be reshaped.

“you know…” killer hums. “we’re enemies, so i never tell you this. i like having you around, i think. you make me feel real.” his hand searches for color’s. it’s as cold as his, but it makes him feel warm inside. “when we try to kill each other, i never feel more alive. i have someone who cares enough to look at me, at my ugliness. so… thank you.”

the breeze stills.

“say something, damnit.”

killer turns his head.

color lies there, in the grass, his face slack, his body unmoving, specks of dust flowing around him. no twitch. no soul beat. nothing. just stillness. silence.

the eternal smile on killer’s face doesn’t fade, but it turns sharper, more rigid. he waits, expecting color to stir, to light up his eyes and confirm this is not just a dream. but color doesn’t. color never will.

the wind whispers through the soft grass, brushing against killer’s cheeks like a caress of something long gone.

“oh.”

his voice comes out flat. emotionless.

he should feel something. he should feel many things. grief, regret – anything really. but there is just... emptiness. a hole in his chest where something should be. and yet, nothing comes out.

is he broken?

he looks back up at the stars. they shine just as brightly as before, as if mocking him. as if taunting him with their brilliance, with the fact that the light of his life has been snuffed out.

one more reason to hate stars, really.

"guess you finally gave up on me after all."

[the-barefoot-hatter]

pediatricians are hard to find.

you aren't broken and other important things a triangle needs to hear

[aestheticitii]

the double chrom feature on this month's remix (one of them at least) has reminded me of best husband once more

but specifically, RKC

specifically, how, before he released, i wanted a chrom that was able to articulate his every thought and simply thought he awoke from a long rest, to the sight of his beloved wife who nursed him back to health

why? how? he doesn't know.

all he knows is that they're somewhere far away, in the desert still, but validar is dead and the shepherds managed to get away

all he knows is that once they get back to ylisse, they'll be able to resume their normal lives

and then he dies to a grimleal, who catches up to them.

then comes a chrom who vaguely remembers what happened and is told by a tearful robin that she managed to revive him using dark magic, turning him into a risen capable of thought and speech, likely because she's grima's heart, who begs him not to force her to kill him

they just won't tell anyone, they decide.

but when they get to ylisse, they stay in a little cabin and robin disappears for a bit. when she comes back, she's injured, but hides it well, and tells him a sob story about how lissa refused her

chrom dies at a tearful frederick's hands, before he's able to "clear" her name

he dies many more times after that, but robin refuses to go back to lissa.

sometimes he dies to the grimleal, quite often actually. they seem to think his blood compels their master to follow him; that even with falchion gone, he can still exert his influence on her

(he can.

about minuscule things like dinner and what clothes to wear. not about talking to lissa, not about becoming a family again).

once, he dies to tiki, who tracks robin down, who tells him the truth, and kills him as a mercy, but he never remembers it.

once, to a man with red hair, who clicks his tongue when he sees him and talks about someone called "princey" before that.

once, to a kind elderly dragon who can't bear to see him in such a state, in the deserts of plegia after them both.

once, to his brother-in-law, who he takes with him, leaving his sister to grieve another family member.

(for a few weeks after that, he gets pecked by crows a lot, until henry is made a risen as well)

once, to his son, even, by accident—the inciting incident that spurs the young boy to align himself with his mother

and then he stops being able to recognize his wife. her eyes are redder than they ever have been, and she nurses a grudge against their pre-teen daughter and his sister

she sends him on missions with their son, who she cares little for beyond the fact that he looks like him, to kill the people he's meant to lead, and he's unable to overcome her commands. all he can do take hits for little morgan and steadily lose sight of who he is

the worst is when lucina takes up falchion.

he simply can't hurt her, not when his heart fondly remembers his beloved daughter. so all he can do is tell her that morgan lives and that she needs to save him and—

he kills himself that time, as he senses his wife approaching, to spare her the trouble and buy her some time

(that's why lucina's particularly concerned about her father. and also why she never brings up marc before he appears, bearing his sister's name, because she believes him and his twin to be both dead and her greatest failures.

officially, she never learns who grima really is, because chrom does his best to spare her from what he can.

unofficially, she knows all along and only stays her sword because she desperately wants to indulge in such a fantasy.)

he's also partially how and why marc manages to lose his memories. because he implores marc's twin, morgan, to save marc as he's dying to her

(unfortunately, she takes after her mother, so she tries to free marc by recklessly gambling her own life away but fails.

chrom saves her at the last minute and she's able to flee to mount prism, shortly after the kids have all left, and gets sent back in time.

but the element of surprise he had is now gone and "robin" exerts her control even more strongly than before.)

(marc gets to the past thanks to grima, but a little interference from tiki, who now guards mount prism, means he loses his memories.

he does manage to recall his mother and the girl who looks like him, though.

and the name "morgan")

he, of course, is dragged into the future. he has no choice in the matter. he has no will or free thought—beyond an understanding that his wife is gone and grima has taken her over, he has nothing

until he runs into the younger robin, once, while he's meant to be fetching marc.

it should spark an old memory, of a meeting just like this, down to the same horrified expression she's wearing, just before he dies. it should spark a memory that stays with him, that revives some of the optimism that young chrom has about who exactly the woman wearing his wife's face is

it doesn't

but after that, "robin" simply can't take any more chances. he's nothing but a common risen, for someone who's meant to be king.

so she traps him away from where the battle ought to take place, in hopes that once she takes over this world, she might be able to stitch back a whole chrom

he fades alone, not knowing that his children must be safe now and that his wife must be in peace now—he simply thinks grima got tired of him or that she has no need of him anymore. he's given up so badly that he doesn't even register the warmth that floods his body, and when he does, he attributes it to the same weapon that brought him to a foreign land

but there's no lingering question of how much the woman who ruined ylisse was his wife and how much was the fell dragon rumored to bring destruction to the world because that one memory sparked a whole flood

and when he meets her again, there are two of them.

one, the same as the young woman who tearfully killed him

the other, the same as the woman who controlled him and killed his lived ones (though she has no memory of it)

[mantisgodsdomain]

We're going to talk about our cool vampire guy headcanons again. We like to set Monsieur Scarlet as a member of Solenopsis invicta, albeit a very unconventional example of the species. As a fire ant, technically, he is venomous - however, he's not actually had venom production online for decades, and at this point the cost for Making That Bite Work Again far outweighs the perceived benefit.

Would it be directly useful for his survival to be capable of injecting people with venom that causes intense burning sensations? Yes, probably, especially since he's at a scale where the swelling induced would probably take out an arm for hours at a time. He's just not going to fix it, because that takes life force that he could be using for other purposes, like breathing, or keeping his heart running, or having an emergency teleportation stock so that he can fling himself a metre or two in any direction when need be.

[giantkillerjack]

My secret to making people do what I want? Easy. Listen up! For I, Jack, am a master manipulator!

My secret is that I find my mark, and I convince them I am actually very sweet and kind. I tell them that what I want from them is for them to do what makes them happy and comfortable; I tell them I want them to be safe and loved.

And THEN - and this is the most important part, so listen up:

THEN I continue to act in a sweet and kind way to them forever, and I use my words and actions in a way that helps them feel empowered to practice enforcing their boundaries with me as I cheer them on and help where I can while they slowly work to build a better life for themselves. Yet little do they know that that's what I wanted all along!!!

Those fools think we are friends and I want to see them happy! When in fact we are friends and I want to see them happy!! They are playing right into my hand!

One of these days they're gonna look around and realize that their life is more beautiful than it was before and that they always deserved a better and brighter life. And there's a good chance ol' Jack is gonna be there when it happens, grinning ear to ear and saying how proud he is and meaning it. 😈😈😈

They'll never even see it coming.

[todayisafridaynight]

The bookmark tag was #holder until i think of a tag for these asks but To Be Real even I forgot what it was...

BUT YEAH thanks so much for reading and I'm glad it's :] Intelligible At Least :] obviously I would be up for reading anything that came to mind after putting you and your followers through All That but understandable... A lot of people I've shown the checklist items or pointed out specific behaviors to have actually said similar [i.e. I'm In This Picture And I Don't Like It], so I totally get what you mean, too!

I think a lot of my picks wound up being generalized trauma responses/aftereffects of abuse or neglect [hence I meandered off into just talking about Jo's father half the time], so I guess it's to be expected a lot of them don't read as being CSA-specific or are broadly relatable; it's not like he's supposed to be read that way, after all. I just wasn't able to zero in on many of the more specific ones because I've Never Seen Jo In This Situation Chief I Don't Know What He Thinks About His Name Or His Body Or Mirrors Or Sex Or Affection I Don't Know How Well Or Poorly He Sleeps [Presumably Poorly Though He Has The Second-Reddest Eyes In The Whole Game]

I don't really think I'll have anything to add though unless Infinite Wealth goes off the rails or I actually continue reading the book... so that will have to do... I originally was just riffing on RGGJo's attachment issues, self-destructiveness, and specific entwinement of sexuality/aggression/romance, and his portrayal in my fic lined up pretty closely, so I thought it'd be interesting to apply the same lens to Y7Jo...

But Yeah x2 thank you for the opportunity to talk about it and I'm Glad It's Intelligible At Least x2

THANK YOU i really should change that tag to something better... <- i will immediately forget to do so like a jackass

BUT YA OF COURSE OF COURSE i was truthful when i said it was a real good read (but once again. i have -5 speech skills so i can't properly word SHIT) and was a thorough examination of jo's trauma and how it manifests in him and how it's exhibited through his actions. ALWAYS a big fan of that :)

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.

“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”

Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.

The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”

You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.

He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.

“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”

“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.

“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.

He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”

“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.

“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”

Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?

“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.

Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.

Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.

Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest. 

“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.

He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.

“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”

You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”

He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.” 

You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.

“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”

That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.

So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.

“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”

You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.

When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.

Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”

Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.   

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone. 

That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.

“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.

You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.

As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.

Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.

“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”

He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.

“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”

He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!” 

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day sixteen.

Breeding Kink (3.2k words)

summary: Since the moment he met you, Lando knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children, and that feeling only intensified when he saw taking care of your nephew.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talking, breeding kink.

To anyone else, and as people would expect, seeing your significant other with a child should warm your heart; it should give you a soft spot for the person you’ve vowed to spend the rest of your life with. 

Lando did feel like that when he saw you interact with any kid, like when you were walking in the paddock and a kid came up to him and you always made conversation so they wouldn’t feel so shy, or when a driver brought their kid to the race and you immediately leaned down to talk to them, sometimes even holding their tiny hands as they swore they had the coolest thing to show you.

That was the first few times, at least. But he will never forget how everything inside him shifted when you first met his niece. She instantly fell in love with you, and she needed to drag you everywhere. Who could blame her, really; that’s just the effect you have on people.

But god, the effect you had on him? That was another level, because the way he felt that weekend when you picked up a motherly role when you were with her made him feel something he had never felt before, something he never imagined, and quite honestly, he couldn’t explain it. That was until you were saying goodbye and the little girl nearly cried when her mother took her from your arms, and his hands instinctively landed on your tummy when he walked you back to the car.

The thought of you carrying his child and taking care of them the same way you did with his niece — now that is a fire he could never put out, not until it became a reality. He wanted- no, he needed to make you a mother; he desperately needed to put a baby in you in a way that was almost primal.

You and Lando have been together for years, and it was common knowledge that he wanted kids. Sure, you have talked about having a family one day after getting married, one day, but sometimes he just wishes you could skip all of that and make a baby once and for all. 

For months, he kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to ruin what you had just because he couldn’t contain his desire buried for a little longer; that was until you babysat your 5-year-old nephew, Charlie.

He came back home sometime in the afternoon, eyes tired and body aching for the intensity of the past weeks. He wanted nothing more than to be with his girlfriend and forget about the world, but as soon as he stepped into your apartment, he heard the TV and loud chuckles coming from the living room.

His brows frowned in confusion as he dropped his bags next to the door and followed the noise, his heart nearly stopping when he spotted you playing with the little kid.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” He said with a huge smile.

“Oh hi, you’re home,” you sprinted towards him, hugging him tightly when he caught you in his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple. “And how is this little guy doing?" Lando walked towards Charlie, kneeling next to him to be at the same level. 

“Good, we are playing with the puppies,” he exclaimed, his tiny finger pointed at the TV. 

“Yeah? Are they fun?” He just nodded and ran closer to the glowing screen, completely forgetting about Lando’s existence and jumping again as his tired eyes followed the dogs.

“Don’t worry, my sister will pick him up in a couple of hours.”

“It’s fine. He seems happy.”

“And very tired. I think it's time for a nap, what do you say?” You walked towards him, trying to pick him up, but he refused.

“No! I wanna play racing again.” 

“We can play some other time, I promise.” 

He looked up at you, the corners of his mouth turning down as his eyes quickly filled with tears. He shook his head and ran back to Lando, who was still on his knees, as he caged himself in his arms.

“I wanna play racing,” he repeated, this time to your boyfriend, sniffling and wiping his tears.

“Yeah? We can play for a little while.”

“Lando-” The way he just betrayed you, you would never forgive him.

“He’ll want to go to sleep soon, don’t worry.” You saw them walk to Lando’s streaming room, Charlie skipping as he held his hand.

You rolled your eyes and followed them, crossing your arms as you rested against the door frame. Lando tried to pick him up, intending to sit him in the sim, but he nearly lost his mind, as if Lando had no idea how playing racing worked.

“No! Auntie.” Lando freaked out and out and put him back down, looking at you as he begged for your help with a single look.

“I’m right here, sweetie.”

You stepped closer to them, sitting on the chair as you picked him up and put him on your lap. He was happy again, his little feet kicking in the air as he gripped the steering wheel.

“We’ll do one more, okay?”

“Yes!” He happily exclaimed.

Lando watched the both of you in awe as you started the game, showing Charlie all the cool cars he could choose from.

“I want the blue car again!” He said, pointing at the Red Bull. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lando joked. You giggled at this, but chose the Red Bull for the race.

It was a free practice session, so you weren’t actually racing other cars, but you still got to drive it super fast, which is exactly what he liked. 

As the session started, you placed your hands just below his. You were doing all the work, but the illusion was still there. 

It was a little harder to drive like this, but you still managed to put up a few good laps without messing up too much, but even when you did, he was enjoying it, giggling and pointing at the screens as he turned to Lando to ask him an excited “did you see that?” Any time something happened, and every time, Lando would just nod and match his enthusiasm.

The session ended, and just like you did earlier today, you congratulated your nephew for his amazing driving. He took the compliments proudly as if he just won a championship, but his head soon fell on your chest, yawning as he snuggled closer.

“Okay, time for a nap.”

He didn’t resist this time. Instead, he nodded as his eyes closed. Lando helped you get up as you held Charlie close to you, walking towards the guest room; that was the room he preferred, saying your room was too scary and probably haunted.

You carefully laid him down, taking his shoes off and covering his body with a blanket. How was he already in a deep sleep? You had no idea, but you envy him.

While he was asleep, you took the time to clean up the mess he made earlier, picking up all the toys he brought and putting Lando’s helmets back where they belonged. You loved your nephew, you really did, but man, it was really challenging to take care of a child. Not only were they messy and unpredictable, but they had so much energy you could barely keep up. You often wondered how your sister did it. 

Once you finished up, you dramatically collapsed on the couch. “I need to sleep for like a week,” you joked, your boyfriend laughing at your antics.

He made his way to the couch, sitting next to you as he pulled you in a warm embrace, hands caressing your sides as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “Me too, and I was only here for like half an hour.”

“Imagine! I’ve been with him since this morning. I’m never babysitting again.”

“No? But you love Charlie.” He looked at you expectantly, trying to decipher if you were being serious.

“I do, but it’s too much sometimes. I honestly don’t know what we’ll do when we have our kids.”

Our kids. Two simple words that opened up a can that you would never be able to close. He stayed silent, mentally cursing the tent forming in his pants for betraying him in such an innocent moment.

You didn’t think anything of it, nor did you realise what those two words did to him, so you just reached for the remote control and browsed the channels. You ended up picking a cooking show, paying attention as if you would ever cook anything like that.

The entire time, Lando was paying attention to you — all of you. He admired your face, your hands, your hips… your tummy. He couldn’t stop himself from placing both his hands on your stomach, imagining what you would look like carrying a child. His child. He was well aware he was getting ahead of himself, but after witnessing today’s events? God, he needed to do something about it.

Another hour went by, and you were already catching up to your boyfriend’s intentions. To you, everything seemed normal at first, but the lower his hands got and the way his thumb was rubbing soft circles on your stomach, it clicked. You knew how Lando felt about having a family with you, but it never crossed your mind that seeing you with kids affected him so much. Though it all made more sense now, any time you were near a kid, even if you didn’t interact with them at all, his hands would be all over you, and when he got you alone? That’s another story, but you never connected the dots until now. 

Suddenly, a phone call made both of you jump. It was your sister calling you to let you know she was in the building, ready to pick Charlie up. You gathered all his things as Lando greeted your sister, walking her in and guiding her to the guest room.

“Aw, he looks so peaceful.”

“Well, you should’ve seen him two hours ago,” you joked.

“I know,” she laughed with you. “Thank you for taking care of him on such short notice, you saved my life today.”

“It’s okay, I love spending time with Charlie, and I’m happy to do it any other time.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. He honestly loves you, you have no idea how happy he got when I told him we were coming here.” Your sister was about to carry Charlie in his arms, but Lando offered to bring him down to the car. 

Okay, now you got it. You had to admit that seeing Lando carry a little kid did things to you, and since your realisation a few minutes ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about a family; how did you suddenly get your own case of baby fever? Sure, you were still young, and that probably wouldn’t happen for at least a few years, but fantasising couldn’t hurt anyone. 

You walked back to the apartment holding Lando’s hand, his grip so tight you thought he could break your hand if he squeezed a little harder. As soon as the door closed behind you, he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around, his lips crashing into yours in an intense kiss.

Kissing him back, your arms wrapped around his neck as one hand played with his hair.

“You looked so pretty today, taking such good care of the baby,” he mumbled against your lips, biting it sofly. You couldn’t contain the moan that left your mouth, only encouraging him further. 

He carried you to your bedroom, immediately throwing you in the bed and hovering over you. He pressed himself further into you, making you very aware of his hardening cock as he nudged his bulge into your lower stomach. You moaned again, your legs going around his torso to pull him down.

“I wanna put a baby in you. God, you would look so perfect.” He didn’t know what to do with you. He wanted to kiss you, bite you; he wanted to touch you everywhere, his own mind making him feel overwhelmed. 

After quickly taking off your shirt, he started kissing you everywhere, a trail of wet kisses making their way down your body. His touch was electric, making you nearly squirm beneath him as your fingers kept a tight grip on his hair, and his words only made the feeling intensify. 

“Lando,” you moaned, he hummed in response, “do it,” you simply said. God, the way everything inside him shifted is something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. He looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger and desperation you had never seen before. 

“Yeah? You want me to put a baby here?” He asked you, his big hand falling on your lower stomach as he kissed it. 

“Mhm, yes.” Your heartbeat was as strong as ever, and you were already having a hard time focusing. You needed him to do something and you needed it now. 

“Fuck,” he breathed as his hips involuntarily thrusted into the mattress. His lips kept exploring the lower part of your body as his hands worked on getting rid of your joggers, hands falling on your thighs immediately after to move them to rest on his shoulders. 

“Please, I need you so bad,” you begged, and he assumed you were asking him to pay attention to your poor pussy, which you were, but his mouth is not what you needed right now, so you stopped him after one firm lick. “Inside me.”

“As you wish, my love.” 

He got off the bed to quickly discard his clothes as you did the same with your bra, falling back on the bed as you eagerly waited for him. You felt like his gaze was piercing you as he lowered his body, pressing himself against you.

You moaned in anticipation, your arms wrapped around his neck as you felt your pussy starting to drip with desire. He moved his fingers along your sides and all the way down to your hole, collecting your wetness and spreading everywhere, finally getting to your clit as he rubbed soft circles for a moment.

He moved his mouth to your chest, taking one of your nipples into your mouth as he whimpered, and his mind instantly went to how sensitive and full they would be once you were pregnant, and he couldn’t wait any longer. “You look so fucking sexy tonight, sweetheart... I wanna fuck you so bad.” He was practically drooling as his fingers left your pussy and grabbed his cock, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it to your entrance.

You couldn’t help your gaze dropping to his member, already swollen at the tip and bubbling with precum. It seemed impossible, but you were sure you had never needed him this bad.

He pushed into you, making both of you moan loudly as his eyes met yours for a moment before pressing a kiss on your lips, whispering a little “I love you.”

He didn’t give you that long to adjust. His hands went under your ass, moving you up and down his cock. As if your sex life wasn’t already rough, the intention he had in mind just made him go crazier, because the way he was thrusting into you was bound to leave you sore for days. 

The room was filled with whimpers and slick noises the whole time, moans of each other’s names joining from time to time. “Gonna fill you up so good,” he breathed, his hands squeezing your ass, “fuck, can’t wait to see your tummy grow.” All you could do was moan, the words leaving his mouth putting you under a spell that you could never escape. “Do you want that, love?”

“Uh- huh,” you managed to spit out, fingers drigging into his strong biceps.

“Wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck- ah. I want you to put a baby in me.” You replied, eyes focusing on what your words did to him.

His hips began to speed up, thrashing your head against the pillows as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot deep inside you. He was so deep you could practically feel him in the pit of your stomach.

“Harder,” you whimpered, and he immediately started to drill into you, the air nearly getting knocked out of your lungs as his grip tightened. 

“You feel so good around me, so so good for me,” he pants, looking down to where you were connected. “Fuck.”

“Ah- Lando.” It felt so good. So good that you are too far out of reality to form any thoughts; you could only think about him and how good he looked above you, with his mouth hung open in pure pleasure as he panted.

One of his hands made its way to your tummy, pressing down where he could feel himself. It was so simple yet so effective; he could feel his cock moving deep inside you. He gragged it further, his fingers catching your clit.

“Fuck,” you let out a broken moan, “just like that.”

He smirked at this; it was like you were begging him to get you pregnant as you began to tighten around him. He knew you were close; he could not only feel it but see it, the way your eyes were squeezed shut as your legs started to quiver.

“You wanna cum? You wanna cum while I fill you up?”

“Fuck,” you screamed as your head frantically nodded. 

“Cum with me, I’m gonna put a baby in there.”

With that, your orgasm began to take over, squeezing around him tighter, triggering his own release. He slowed his movements down and both his hands took a hold of your waist, keeping you in place so you wouldn’t waste a single drop.

Both your moans were even louder as he did his best to continue pushing into you through his orgasm, wanting to pump as much of his seed into you as he possibly could. When he physically couldn’t keep going, he stopped, keeping his cock deep inside you as he tried to catch his breath. 

He looked down at you, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at the mess he made. Slowly, he pulled out, his fingers quickly replacing his cock as he pushed his cum back into you, making you squirm and whimper at how sensitive you were. 

“Gonna have to squeeze for me, love, you gotta keep it inside.” The sight almost made him want to fuck you again; he couldn’t believe how pretty you looked filled up to the brim with his cum.

His eyes locked with yours, fingers going inside his mouth as he licked them clean. He had lost his mind; you were sure of that, but fuck, you couldn’t deny how hot that was.

With a satisfied smirk, he fell next to you, pulling you into his arms as he kissed you once more. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

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[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.

[beloveds-embrace]

Part two of monster!141 x chubby reader

Part One.

CW: reader isn’t in a good place mentally and it’s affecting her reactions and the 141 absolutely take advantage of it. This is definitely not accurate in terms of reality. Reader has a lot of self-esteem issues, especially regarding her weight.

The thing is, you know you should be panicking way more. You know you should be fighting back, trying to think of an escape plan.

But you don’t. Exhaustion clings to you like a second skin, and you simply decide you don’t have any energy to do anything much- especially against shifters twice your size at the minimum. If they want to kill you, so be it. You doubt there’d be anyone to miss you; your parents only ever cared about your other siblings, your friends weren’t exactly your friends apparently, and you ex…

“Penny for your thoughts, dove?” The harpy whose lap you are perched on murmurs, wings fluffing out around you, the feathers soft and warm. You haven’t been on any couches or cushions ever since you woke up here, always in one of their laps. You had been terrified at first, and fear still lingers even now, but all they do is hold you tight and occasionally sniff you. Nothing more.

“Not worth much.” You whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. The feathers around you rustle again, tickling your skin ever so slightly, and you can feel him nuzzle the crown of your head.

“I disagree,” Kyle says, voice musing.. The arms wound around your waist tighten, and you are pulled impossibly closer to him. Your head still finds it hard to believe just how strong they are- easily maneuvering someone even of your size like your weigh nothing. Your ex never bothered; often just made a passing mention that maybe he’d carry you like that if you hit the gym and lost a few pounds. “Worth quite a lot to me. To us.”

You don’t have a reply to that; it’s still weird and unbelievable to you. Soulmates. What a joke. Even if they existed, you doubted anyone would like you like this. Not to mention the soulmate of a harpy, a werewolf, a dragon and a wraith? It sounded like a crappy plot you’d find while scouring the internet, written by a college student driven insane in their last year.

But they insisted they were right, and refuse to let you go, and now here you are being cuddled to one of them while the other three thud about upstairs. You can hear their voices, but not what they are saying. Though it sounds like they are quite busy.

“You cold, dove?” Kyle asks when he feels you shudder again, at last wrapping his wings fully around you even before you can answer. The feathers are so soft, and he smells so nice, like jasmine and vanilla. You almost felt hungry, simply smelling him.

“No.” The answer is quiet, croaked out tiredly. Sleep tugs at you even though it hasn’t been that long since you’ve woken up, the pounding, hungover headache long since dissipated.

You hate this syrupy slowness that lets you remain snuggled against him. You hate how safe you feel, despite your mind screaming at you otherwise. You don’t know these men, don’t know anything about them except their names, and yet your body has never felt quite this comfortable.

“Sleep, precious.” Kyle croons, his hand rubbing down your back. He buries his face in your hair, still crooning, and leaves a trail of kisses across your temple. “Sleep. You are safest and soundest here, with us.”

And so your eyes flutter shut, and your breath evens out; sleep comes to you as easy as breathing, and for one, ephemeral second, you don’t worry about your weight being too much for him.