#Hold on i need to get a screenshot of their names they were good

[grenade-attack]

Another day of missing my Arch.

Lately I’ve been thinking back to old messages, and looking back to the ones I still have left of him (screenshots and such, and photos of him). I still miss him alot. If by chance he comes back to Tumblr some day, whether under a different alias, I hope we will find a way to speak once more. The friendship and caring love I felt with him during our short time together shifted my perspective in some ways. On the surface, he seemed horrible, how he portrayed himself and how he described himself was nothing less than unsavory. But, underneath all of that, was a guy who just needed a good friend. Still, I’m glad I could bring him comfort and support when he needed it most. He’s sincere, caring, and ultimately a great friend. Though our time together was cut short, I still consider him a dear friend and one I won’t forget about. Atleast I still have remnants of his presence. Something that sticks with me is when we were matching Halloween outfits, and sent eachother photos. I took a photo of me and his name on a slip of paper, and he loved it. I still have the paper folded in my wallet, yeah corny I know. I don’t know why I’m grieving over someone who’s (hopefully) not dead. Whether he got interrogated by the Feds or FBI, I hope he’s safe and gets the help he deserves. He opened up to me, and for that I’ll always be grateful for. I will never consider him an "old friend" or "ex friend" because a piece of me will always cling onto the hope that he will return, and I'll have my Arch back. Though I can't feel his pain, I think of him everyday. I saw a pureness in him that nobody in his life cared to see. I wish I was more outwardly affectionate, more loving. I just wish we could've spoken one last time. I wish I could’ve told him how much he meant to me, that all the struggles and burdens he carried he didn’t have to go through alone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“And you never knew how much I really liked you. Because I never even told you, oh and I meant to”

Come back home Archie, I miss you dearly.

These are all the screenshots I have left of him, but I hold so many more memories in my heart and mind.

I’d give anything just to see him again, just to talk to him again.

[superbellsubways]

to the 3 trans people me and my friends ran into during the sheldon challenge 3 TIMES IN A ROW i am so sorry i promise we love trans people

[brainrotzora]

recent ffxiv livetweeting. spoilers through the end of arr patch quests btw.

[joonipertree]

tags: fluff, just fluff, kenma being a #streamer. i love streamer kenma it scratches that itch in me that craves a parasocial kind of love.

"Kenmaaaa" you drawled while opening the door, leaning heavily against the doorframe of your boyfriend's office room.

It took you five seconds to register where Kenma was sitting, which was in front of the computer unsurprisingly, and the camera that had a red light on. The second monitor to his left was showcasing Kenma on the screen while the third one had an onslaught of comments popping up.

oh shi--

You jumped back, mostly out of surprise.

"Yes, honey?" Kenma spoke, one side of his headphones off as he turned towards you. "The camera won't pick up on you, don't worry."

You crept back in, feeling nervous even though the camera wasn't even on you.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were streaming."

"Nothing to apologise for. What's up? Need me for something?" He urged you forward and you padded your way inside, the only comfort being in proximity to your boyfriend.

"I-uh- didn't feel like cooking so I thought we could order something?" You were halfway through your sentence when Kenma picked up his phone. He was nodding along, opening an app in it.

"What are you feeling?" He murmured, completely ignoring the eruption of comments blasting on his screen. There was a lot of yelling. You tried not to look at it but it drew you in, most of it was gibberish and question marks. You could make out the words 'WHAT' and 'DATING???' a lot.

"I'm not sure? Feeling indecisive today." You probably had an idea but it had vanished a couple of minutes back.

"Want burgers? Pizza?" Kenma didn't even seem to care at that point, solely focused on his phone. He did take a hold of your hand though, running his thumb through your knuckles.

THAT caught on camera and the gibberish got louder and faster.

"Burgers sound good." You snapped back to him, letting his hand ground you.

"That burger place you like?"

"Yes please."

"Honey mustard one?"

"Yes."

"Mh-hmmm." Kenma dragged out the sound before placing in his own order.

"Wanna get ice cream? Been craving it." He worked quick to add it in, knowing what you wanted but still asking in case you changed your mind.

"I can pay for the---"

"Shut the fuck up." Kenma murmured with only an upward glance at you, a small smile on his face when you pouted.

You finally took a look at the main monitor, a pretty sunset with the main character looking off into the distance on the screen. "What game you playin?"

"It's a fantasy game. Pretty new, haven't even started yet. You'd like it, it's very pretty." Kenma turned the monitor a bit so you could see it, pressing play so some more of the graphics would come on screen. You let out a little gasp, taking it all in.

When you realised that there were a lot of people waiting, you blinked out of your revery and threw an apologetic look at Kenma.

"Sorry, you were busy and--"

"Never too busy for you." Kenma murmured again and scooted towards you till he was just out of frame, his lips puckering up while he craned his neck upwards, too lazy to stand up.

You laughed and gave him a peck on the lips, then the nose and then the forehead. He grinned widely, adjusting back into the same position he was in before.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" You call out and walk back.

"Okay, baby."

You were about to close the door when you head a very disgruntled, 'shut the fuck up.' from Kenma. Curious about what he would say, you listened in from the hallway.

"Yeah I am dating someone. No, I'm not saying their name....we've been dating for a while now. I am not soft for them....okay chat keep the screenshots between us....what do you mean they're already on twitter??? Ya'll are annoying. No, Kuroo I'm not buying you food. Yeah, they are special, dumbass."

You grinned so wide your cheeks hurt, already scrolling through twitter to see if people actually posted anything...

.....Kenma's name was trending

And oh the thread of pictures after pictures, of his eyes turning into liquid, his smile, the hand holding yours that. It was enough in the frame for his thumb to be seen. The person that posted it was SCREAMING about how soft he is.

Then there was a screenshot of him tilting his head upwards and your hair was the only thing that showed up as you kissed him. There was a fire hazard in the comments. It made you chortle. You saved all of them to use as leverage. Seeing as Kuroo was retweeting some of them, he had them too.

A/N: second day in a row im posting kenma hehehehehehhehehehhe hyperfixation tyme

[dolicekiss]

♡: i got this request but i accidentally deleted it :[ thankfully i took a screenshot so ill post it here n get to it. also love the idea of hannigram murking alana as a display of affection

Delicious Envy

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannigram x Jealous!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, threesome, oral (male receiving), fingering, hair pulling, throat fucking, murder, slight gore, blood mentioned, dominant hannibal, soft dom will graham, sick murderers who only care about their darling, usage of petnames; (darling, bunny, bun).

SYNOPSIS: When your lovers began to show more attention to their colleague under the name of manipulation, you couldn't handle it but somehow Will always comforted you though one day, enough is enough and you snapped. Attempting to leave, your lovers show you just how obsessed and in love they are when it comes to you, going as far as to getting rid of the only problem between the three of you.

Envy had overwhelmed you like it was the only feeling you had known ever since your birth.

To be honest, you were a little creepy and too possessive when it came to your two lovers but to them it was perfect. You were perfect.

They didn't mind when you expressed your urges to kill everyone and anyone that even laid their eyes upon them or when your clinginess to them grew in heft amounts — to the point you had accidentally expressed your wish to live inside their skin.

Will was slightly take aback but Hannibal fell more in love with you. The idea of cherishing you inside their skins was captivating to them, all the more fascinating.

Things were going good for the three of you, so when Alana Bloom entered the picture, things went haywire. You'd never liked how she flapped her wings like an eager little butterfly around the two men but what you hated the most that now both your lovers were playing more attention to her than they were to you.

It angered you.

Will had comforted you.

That this was all to toy with her, mess her up between Hannibal and Will. Break apart the layers of her mind and confuse her to ridicule her. All in attempts to draw her attention farther from the murders commited by your lovers.

It worked.

For a short period of time, Will’s comforting words worked like magic and he serenaded you but it didn't last long. You'd grown restless, not liking how both arrived late at night. At times Hannibal would be nowhere to find and he'll tell you he was out having a fucking beer with Alana to steer her attention from the drink of suspicion she'd pour over them.

After a heavy amount of restlessness and patience, you snapped and here you were — standing outside Will’s office. Eavesdropping on the conversation as someone had told you that I could find both Will and Hannibal in Will’s office with Alana fucking Bloom.

“Alana, the killer is sharp. Look at these pictures, look at the way he has performed pieces of art with his victims.” Your stomach flipped with jealousy, not fond of the way Will spoke to her. Carrying such gruesome discussions with her.

When was the last time the man took you hunting? Teaching you how to lure in your prey, haunt them, catch them, all of the rules that lead to gaining a prey.

You could hear a sigh. It was Alana.

“Will, if there is a killer and he kills with such passion, he is not only dangerous but should be caught as soon as possible.” Palms becoming sweaty, you swallowed as your fingers ached with proper need to go inside the room and smash Alana’s head against the table and break her fucking skull.

But you controlled your impulses.

Feeling neglected, abandoned and ignored.

You turned around on your shoes and made your way back home. Holding back your tears was a difficult task but you still managed ti pull it, as you made it across the rout which lead to your apartment — or Hannibal and Will's. It didn't matter anymore.

As soon as you made it inside the apartment, you began to pack your items. This behavior was not normal, leaving over something so minor, you knew that deep down but you felt like you were betrayed. Lied to. There were other ways to get rid of Alana, why dedicate all their fucking time and effort to manipulating her and playing mind games with her?

Why play games with her when they had you?

Willing and pliant?

Submissive and eager to please them.

Angrily, you tossed your little frill skirts and dresses into the suitcase sprawled across the bed. Eyes continuously glossing over and over again, lips shivering from multiple times to keep your tears at bay. You heard the front door open and realized it was probably your lovers, coming back after being in Alana’s company for so long.

Two hours.

Two fucking hours.

Discussing what? Murders? Why the fuck did it matter so much? Why were they giving your share of attention to her too? It bothered you, displeasure coursing through you like rippling water. You continued packing your stuff, not bothering with the men who's presence was all powerful behind you.

“Going somewhere?”

It was Hannibal, his tone impassive. You continued rummaging through your closet, packing your items in a hurry and giving them silence. Your chest was rising up and down from how swiftly you were moving around the room, Will and Hannibal watching you almost in awe but also confusion.

“I asked you something.”

You didn't respond.

Will had enough of this so he reached over and grabbed you by your arm, pulling you with the force pull of one arm. Your body collided against his and you looked–no, glared up at him. Seeing the anger be this alive and incinerating in your gaze was a heart gutting sight for them both.

“Let me fucking go.” Your fists were quick to slam down on his chest and Will only tightened his hold around you. “Hey, what's wrong? Talk to us, pretty girl. There's no need to throw such a fit.”

Your brows furrowed. “Throw a fit? A fit? You're kidding, right?”

You were close to breaking apart. Eyes glossing and both men took notice of that, exchanging glances between them and communicating silently. You pulled your arm out of Will’s grasp and continued throwing your items messily into the suitcase. Having had enough of this back and forth situation with Alana. Just how much did they need to manipulate and gaslight her?

“She's jealous, Will.” Hannibal stated, with utter confidence. Like he'd sniffed the envy boiling inside you. Will tilted his head to the side, confused for a split second, before realizing that you indeed were envious.

“Just go to her. Next thing I know you'll both be fucking her under the name of manipulation.” Your tone was spiteful, your little dress bunched up in your fist. You tossed it inside the suitcase and swallowed, to preas down the tears.

But they flowed like a waterfall.

“We would never do that, bunny. You know that. We could never touch anyone other than you.” Inside you there was a heart and that soft heart wanted to believe the gentle words of your lovers but your evil brain didn't allow you to. Holding you hostage as you didn't listen to them.

Your teeth sinking into your lip.

“Shut up.” You spat, fingernails grazing against the bottle of perfume which belonged to you. “I heard you in the office with her. Why do you speak to her, why do you speak to her like that?”

Your gaze laid upon Hannibal, who stood there in complete silence as if he was waiting for you to calm down. Your tears fell in tiny streams and the moment he took notice of that, he walked over to you. Arms extemded to circle around your small waist, face burying in your shoulder.

“Darling, relax a little please.” Hannibal’s voice was so sweet, his words almost working like magic on you. Before you could throw more profanities of anger, Hannibal had already pressed his lips against the apex of your shoulder. One hand unwrapping around your waist and trailing up to your hair, to brush away the locks behind and expose more of your skin.

“You can't leave us.” He murmured, his eyes shut as his gentle kisses of love evolved into bites on your skin. “You know we won't let you, so why even bother.”

Your body shuddered, Hannibal’s kisses left goosebumps in its wake as he unwrapped the arm around your waist. His hand reaching for your hair to slide it back, revealing more skin for him to kiss. You shook your head and tried to step back, but you hadn't realized Will had slid himself behind you, trapping you between the two.

His chest pressed up against your back.

“She means absolutely nothing, especially in comparison to you. You're always going to be above everyone else for us.” Hannibal muttered, fingers clasped around the curve of your waist while leaving kisses up to your exposed neck. Will from behind kissed the other side of your neck, his hand roaming all over your body.

You didn't want to give in.

Especially when you were mad.

But it was difficult not to give in when you were sandwiched between two, beautiful men who you loved. You felt Will slowly drag you back, whilst taking a seat on the bed. Settling you across his lap. Hannibal kneeled before the two of you on the bed, his brawny hands finding your thighs and caressing them.

Will grabbed you by your neck, forcing you to face him and captured your lips in a rather passionate and fierce kiss. His soft lips were in stark contrast to his prickly stubble against your chin when he kissed you. You could feel Hannibal pry your thighs apart, palms settled over your knees. Your eyes opened and saw him already staring at you as his hand inched closer and closer to your seeping cunt.

Hannibal felt the arousal — the proof of your desire and allure. He brought your panties down in a single tug and discarded them aside, along with his own blazer. Your back arched into Will’s chest when the Lithuanian man entered his finger into your opening, your desperate hole clenching around that single digit.

Will’s hands fell down to your breasts, fondling with them. Thumb and fingers tugging at the hardened nipples through the knitted fabric of your dress.

“Filthy girl. Walking around without a bra, hm?” Will purred like a seductive animal against your lips and you whimpered. Fully reveling in the sensations these two men were bringing you.

Will’s one hand crawled back upto your face as he tapped his two fingers on your lips, a innuendo for you to open up. You parted your lips and his fingers entered your mouth, swiftly trailing along your tongue. He pressed onto your flaccid tongue and you stared at him, lips agape and teeth grazing against his fingers.

“Want me to fuck your little throat, slut?”

You nodded desperately, panting like some fucking dog in heat. Will grinned and began to slip his fingers past the little piece of flesh hanging from the roof of your mouth. You whimpered upon feeling his fingers enter the sensitive area.

You wanted to cough out.

But you didn't.

Tears emerged on your waterline, a few rolling down. Hannibal added another finger and then curved it, fucking into you deeply. His aim was to make you cum, right on his fingers before fucking you. Both men were fucking you, one fucking your cunt while the other fucked your throat.

Will loved the feeling of your tight throat against his fingers, feeling the flesh everytime he caressed your gummy walls when he fucked your throat. Enjoying the way it felt. Like he was intimate with you beyond average human understanding.

“Hannibal her throat feels so nice, so fucking delicious.” Will commented, staring at Hannibal who plunged his fingers inside you with utter determination. “Almost makes me want to cut it open and peek inside.”

Your thighs squeezed at that, cunt squeezing in Hannibal’s fingers. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “You won't believe it. She squeezed me in when you said that, Will. Our girl might be as filthy as us.”

Will laughed, mocking you in a way. You choked around his fingers when they slipped deeper, coughing out but that didn't stop Will from ramming his fingers inside your tight little throat. Hannibal fucked you, coaxing a releas out of you and soon you came.

Your thighs squeezing shut, cunt pulsating as tears and sobs escaped you. Such a pretty vision you were and the two couldn't wait to ruin you more, to prove it to you that they only had their eyes for you.

There was no one who could take your place, ever.

You came down from your high soon and as Will retrieved his fingers, you immediately voiced out your despair at that, whining desperately. He smiled at you, running that same wet hand over your cheek. “Patience, baby. You'll get what you want soon.”

You nodded your head obediently.

“Will, put her on the bed. Let's show our pretty girl how much we truly love her.”

The brunette nodded and pulled you on the bed, after sitting down against the headboard of the bed. Hannibal crawled between your thighs and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. Will stripped himself, removing his shirt and pants — exposing himself to you. Your face immediately nuzzled against his revealed, hard cock.

Cheek brushing against it.

“No, she doesn't get to suck you off. You want to see how much we love you, right? Today will be all about appreciating you.” Hannibal’s strict words not only made you pout but even Will was a little disappointed. As he was looking forward to your mouth wrapped around his cock.

You whined, knowing that this was all a subtle way to reprimand you for the way you'd behaved with them both, while also appreciating you and showing you they loved you. Hannibal was a cruel, cruel man but somewhere you loved how domineering he was.

Hannibal aligned his cock against your hole and then slowly sunk in. Your lips parted and you nearly had wrapped them around Will’s cock but Hannibal didn't allow you. Fists curling your locks around it, tugging your head back. You stared at Will, his large hand moving to cup your face.

“Our beautiful darling.” Will swiped his thumb over your lower lip while Hannibal continued to sink into you. His cock caressing the inside of your pussy as he fucked himself into you. His hips moving in a gentle rhythm, delivering the most sensual of thrusts to your frail little body.

You parted your mouth open, an invitation for Will’s thumb. He slid it in, pressing it along your tongue. There was desperation swimming in your blurred gaze and Will knew exactly what you craved. What your sweet little mouth craved.

So he used his own pretty privilege to his advantage.

“Hannibal, let me fuck her throat.” He said, looking at him. “Need to show her that her throat is the only throat I'd fuck. The only tight little throat I want my cock in.”

Hannibal’s grip tightened on your locks at Will’s sensual words. He couldn't help but already imagine you making the prettiest of gagging sounds on Will’s cock while he fucks you like a beast from behind.

You felt him thicken up inside you.

With a nod of approval, Hannibal started to pick up his speed. His thrusts grew more violent and firmer — as Will rubbed his thick cock head over your glossy lips. You parted open and immediately tightened your lips around his cock, sucking him in.

You hollowed your cheek but allowed Will to use your mouth however he pleased to pleasure you.

“Yes—fuck. I'm barely down your throat and I already feel like I'll cum anytime soon.” Will said through gritted teeth, open palm laying atop your head to force it down on his cock.

Hannibal dug his nails into your waist from behind, making sure to leave bloody crescent moons into your flesh. Every time Hannibal thrusted forward, your mouth inched closer and closer. Taking Will’s cock down your throat, feeling it slip past that forbidden barrier.

Will loved it when you sucked his cock.

His little cocksucker Darling who swallowed his dick like her life depended on it. You were usually so pliant, so obedient and well mannered but your envy always got the best of you.

He enjoyed this side of you though.

You were better than them. Possessed far more self control than they did. If someone had even tried to breath the same air around you, Hannibal and Will would've buried them ten feet into the ground.

They wouldn't bother serenading their death.

You sputtered around his cock, feeling saliva accumulate at your lips mixed with the salty taste of his precum. Hannibal violently used your cunt, his hands releasing your hips to move to push your head down over Will’s cock. Pressure so tight and firm, he drove your nose right into Will’s pelvis — feeling his neatly trimmed hair tickle your skin.

You tried to breathe through your nose as Hannibal fucked you from behind, akin to a wild beast. Each thrust was delivered with the potent intention to make you feel loved, wanted and needed by him.

You gagged around Will’s cock and he lost restraint, finally taking control and fucking his cock into your mouth. Repeatedly snapping his hips up and feeling his thick cock caress your gummy, wet walls. His veins sliding over your saliva tainted tight throat.

Tears slipped out and made more of a mess on your face. Will extended his hand, brushing a tear away with his finger before holding your face with both his hands, driving himself deeper into you.

“Oh her throat’s so fucking good. You take me so well, bun. You're made to take my cock.” Will panted out, teeth grinding together as he felt his stomach flip.

Hannibal drove his cock right into your stomach, hitting that bundle of nerves over and over again. You sobbed, small hands pressed tightly into Will’s clothed thighs for some support. Both men took you like beasts but you felt truly loved and needed.

This is what you wanted.

And only you deserved this.

Not Alana, not someone else.

Hannibal lifted your hips up, bringing you on your knees. It was so easy for him. You barely weighted anything for him, akin to a small pillow he could easily toss around. His chest rumbled with pure desire as he felt his cock twitch and his balls throb.

Your own stomach was flipping like crazy, shoulders taut and thighs bearing a tremor in them.

“I'm gonna cum, gonna cum in this tight little throat and you better swallow it— you're gonna swallow it, yeah bunny?”

You nodded your head, staring at him through your saturated lashes. Tear drops sat like tiny pears on your lashes, sliding down each time you fluttered them.

Will was fucking obsessed with you. A delicious sight you were. His stomach tightened as he finally spilled his cum into your mouth, forcing it down your throat. You closed your eyes, flushed cheeks hollowing to milk him dry. The act of suction made Will whine out — back arching as his hips stuttered.

His fist grabbing a hold of your soft hair, tugging on the roots tightly to release all of his load into your mouth.

When Hannibal heard Will’s moans and how you gagged around him, his own thighs shivered and he felt himself near.

The fact that they both had taken you at the same time made you feel giddy, even a little dizzy. Like some teenager who's crush had finally noticed her.

Will pulled his cock out. “Open your mouth. Show me, my beautiful Darling.”

You quickly nodded, parting open your mouth and sticking out your pink tongue. You'd swallowed all of his cum and he let out a satisfied hum, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your nose.

“I'm not done yet.” Hannibal said, rolling you over with his arm. You landed right on your ass and he was quick to pick up your thighs, bending them and entering you back in.

A whine erupted from you as Hannibal rammed his cock into your little cunt, all while Will watched. Your tears continued rolling as your little hands reached for Hannibal, to wrap around his nape.

“Feel loved now, d-don't you, Darling? Told you, we loved you and you only." Hannibal was unstoppable. He tore you apart, showing you no mercy. He loved you, he adored you, obsessively but your bratty behavior was anything but polite.

You dug your nails into his nape, leaving red marks of your upcoming climax and your thighs shivered. “H-Hanni, ‘m close. Please, please. I'm-I'm so close.”

Hannibal’s balls slapped across your cunt as he finally pulled your orgasm out of you. You let out a whine as your eyes rolled back to your skull — body nearly ascending to the false incarnation of heaven. Your orgasm blurred everything out, only the panting of both men could be heard.

You felt Hannibal fill you up, his load heavier than Will’s. His cock pumping you full of hot cum and you sniffled, feeling it just reach your womb. Hannibal wasn't satisified so he started to fuck into you again, all while releasing rope after rope.

“Oh my god—” You cried out, moving your head to glance at Will who looked completely awestruck. Like you were some painting hanging in a museum. Made with love and passion.

When Hannibal was done, he pulled out of you and fell right next to you. Your frail body could only take so much, especially when they were this determined to express their profound love for you.

You felt Hannibal’s arms crawl over you like vines of nature, pulling you in his warm and sweet embrace. You buried your face in his chest and then another pair of arms found their way around your waist, holding you from behind. Will’s dark curls tickled your nape and you let out a exasperated giggle.

The three of you still tried to catch your breath.

“We love you, Darling.” Hannibal whispered and you felt a smile break out, cheeks warming up. “I love you both too. I'm sorry, I couldn't control my jealousy.”

Hannibal delivered a chaste kiss to your head and tightened his hold. “Don't you worry, she will not be an obstacle anymore.”

You raised your gaze. “What do you mean?”

“He means we'll be giving you a present soon.” Will responded, glancing at Hannibal and nodding his head.

— ♡ —

You watched Alana, from behind the wall of Will’s hallway as the two men engaged in a conversation with her. They'd told you to stand there and watch and you could already feel your restraint slipping away, not liking how she accidentally crashed into Hannibal and touched him.

You bit on your lower lip, peeling off the skin while your nails tugged at the skin around them in sickening anticipation.

“Alana.” When she turned around, Will slammed a baseball bat down her head and immediately the frown disappeared from your face.

Replaced with a bright smile.

You watched as the blood from her cracked skull splattered over Will, staining his face and glasses. You wrote down a mental note to clean both of your lovers after they were done getting rid of the woman.

You stepped from behind the wall and Alana looked at you, still conscious. Her blood had made a mess everywhere, droplets staining the furniture though you knew how to rid the interior of her blood. It wasn't the first time you had taken part in the bloody dates your lovers had taken you on.

“Y-You.” Alana stuttered, eyes still wide open from the blunt force of the baseball bat.

You only walked over to Will, to hug him tightly. The blood were not an obstacle as it didn't bother you. Hannibal squated down next to the writhing woman, staring at her before raising his eyes to you.

“Do you want us to kill her or make her suffer, precious?”

You contemplated.

For a moment and then you shook your head.

“Kill her. Don't waste your time on her.” Your wish was Hannibal’s command. He retrieved a blade from his pocket and stabbed it into Alana’s neck — sliding it across and watching the woman finally succumb to her pain and injuries.

You leaned forward, still In Will’s embrace to press a kiss to your lover's lips. “Thank you, thank you. I love you both so much.”

You were a giggling mess. Cheeks red from how much you were blushing and clothes splattered with blood but it didn't matter. You had your lovers by your side, nothing else mattered anymore.

And they had proved their loyalty once more by getting rid of someone for you.

[canon-in-too-deep]

Free Grimms' Fairy Tales Typeset

I am so very excited to present free typeset #33: Grimms' Fairy Tales, by, of course, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. (Apologies for this being quite a long post, but I really wanted to show pictures of what's available in these typesets!) When I saw this in my ask box, I knew I had to do a typeset for it. But there were so many individual tales, and I wanted to do something a bit unique for each of them. But I also wanted to use a lot of color. And throw in some art. And that might make the typeset not so super printer friendly for some folks, so....

I made two versions of this typeset! Two different designs and color options. Both pdfs are available for FREE here and are sized for half letter (letter folio).

Grimms' Fairy Tales typeset version one is the full color version with a lot of little details and different art/motifs for each story (most of the art I used was by Maurice Pillard Verneuil; his stuff is so pretty).

And for the second version of the typeset (which I dubbed the Black and White, Hold the Art Alt in my google drive archive--I need a shorter name for that. The Deep Drive? Drivechive? Googachive?--I went black and white printer friendly, with prominent featuring ornaments and a more simple design.

You can see the differences clearly above. Both these typesets were a lot of fun to make, and I hope they print out well for people wanting to use them. It's one I hope to be able to print out soon for myself, to have as a personal physical copy. I kept stopping in the middle of typesetting just to read a few tales. (Cat-Skin and Snow White and Rose-Red are my two favorite tales (I just love the changed appearance lover trope), though The Juniper-Tree has a a solid standing with best revenge death.) Anyway, use these typesets as you wish! If there's any issues with the files, feel free to let me know! Just please leave credit and consider tagging me if you use them, or reblog if you can! More details and interior shots of the first version are below the break!

So the black and white version has pretty much the same design across all the different chapters, while the color version has a different swatch of art featured next to each title, to give some flair to each individual story. The whole double border around the drop caps was inspired by another (much more talented than I) member on Renegade Bindery, but I added in the extra picture frame for the motifs and changed some things around to get the sort of clean, classic, elegant vibe I was hoping for (originally, I was going to use good ol' IM FELL English and go with a much more gritty, vintage-y design, but changed it after seeing how well Crimson Text worked for the fairy tales (like I've said before, Crimson Text is a special occasion sort of font). Here's some more screenshots of the chapter beginnings (albeit a bit pixelated. Dang screenshots and their low quality):

The table of contents is pretty fun as well, extending the same borders and motifs design to full three pages:

And the fun also extended to the last page with info on the Brothers Grimm:

All in all, this was one of my favorite books to work on. If you have any suggestions for future typesets, my ask box is always open! Edit: also, the borders/frames going around the dropcaps were inspired by a design I saw done by the talented @teleportbooks!

[karlachismylife]

i told myself i'll take a break in my failing attempts to write a couple things on Karlach x Soap in english and go back to writing a couple other things in my first language for the upcoming fandom combat deadline

so here's a thing i wrote instead and it's neither of those :D

Very much inspired by my precious friend that is obsessed with some datesim I know nothing about and talks my ear off about her sexy chinese dudes while I make her listen to me simping for my dead scottish ADHD meow meow. We don't know shit about each other's fandoms but we're so excited for each other... Also excuse me if this idea has already been done (I swear I thought of it on my own, but I will tag anyone who's done this before if you send me a link) + my English writing still sucks.

I also encourage you to check out these smaus, they're brilliant and I somewhat looked at them when wrote Kyle's text messages and this wonderful thing about Ghost and Animal Crossing that also inspired me to look into these silly military men and mobile/video games.

Task force 141 and their reaction to their S/O playing dating simulator games

CW: gn!civilian!reader (if I slipped into one or the other gender somewhere, please tell me & I'll correct), mostly fluff with a bit of spice, pet names, mild cursing, unserious jealousy and banter, long-distance (Gaz), describing nudes and mild sexting (Gaz), soft Ghost, mentioned spanking (Price), mild dom!Price, alluded reader recieveing fingerng and oral (Soap)

Word count: ~5k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

That silly app you downloaded because its (very compelling) ads were repeatedly shoved in your face became surprisingly convenient when Gaz got deployed and wasn't within reach for weeks. A slightly clay-looking guy on your screen didn't hold up in comparison to the smoothest bastard sergeant with the tightest grip on your heart, but a cute feature with app notifications stylized as loving text messages from the virtual boyfriend somehow helped cope with the radio silence from Kyle. You knew he would be fine, how could he not? You gave him a very proper goodbye kiss (and goodbye sex that was a bit more improper) for luck, and he was too damn good at his job to fail. You weren't going insane from worry, at least not more than usually.

But the loneliness, the fucking loneliness was a little bit more bearable when you still got your "good morning beautiful xx" and "thinking about you before bed" even though the font was wacky and some phrases were clearly poorly google translated. To unlock these little snippets you opened the app every day, usually tapping mindlessly on all the required interactions before going to sleep and eyeing some of the ingame wardrobe options that wouldn't work too bad on your man. In fact, you even took a screenshot of a nice suit - if tailored right, Kyle would look in it sharper than the tactical knife he knew so well. You just needed an opportunity to show it to him.

And the opportunity barged in with a sudden surge of texts right when you were already getting ready for some shut-eye.

Three weeks of muffled unease wiped out and replaced with that never-tiring giddy feeling bubbling inside as soon as you saw Kyle's name pop up on top of your screen.

"hi baby"

"finally can text, miss you terribly 😘"

"what are you up to angel?"

You could feel your own cheeks strain with the stupid smile plastered on your face. No doubt, Kyle texted you at the first opportunity - he was there, he was okay and he missed you. All sleepiness in your body withered away, leaving you energized at eleven pm, squirming in your bed as you rolled over to start vigorously typing back. You never knew how much time you both have to chat, unstable signal or simply never-ending duty could interrupt you at any given moment, so you had to get your fill of premium class Garrick right there and then - no matter how drowsy it would make you the next morning.

Eventually you sent him the screenshot you took without second thoughts:

"btw thought you'd look good in smth like this baby, what do you think?"

Instead of a normal reply on the topic, though, you recieved an immediate jab followed by short pause:

"the fuck is that baby? 🤣"

"wait i think i know"

"replacing me with a vr boyfriend already? jesus fuck angel i haven't been away even for a month"

"i'm wounded, truly. he doesn't even look that good and can't spell correctly. what a downgrade 😔"

If only you could communicate the muscle-straining eyeroll you had through text. Chuckling and snorting, you immediately came to defence of your pixel prince charming, simply for the sake of it.

"how dare you. he's not a mere replacement, this is true love, garrick 💕🥰❤️✨"

"look at the top, we're already level 29 intimacy"

"gonna get him to send me nudes soon, they unlock at lvl 30"

Gaz could probably hear your bratty giggles on the other side of the globe, sheets rustling as you wiggled in your bed, absolutely proud of your impeccably fine-tuned wit and properly excited for the upcoming smartass comeback, since Kyle would rather die than let you have a win. But you've already calmed down with your cheeks mildly flushed, and the messages were still left on read.

Weird. It wasn't the first time your chatting ended abruptly, but usually Kyle had time at least to tell you he had to go - maybe even exchange little "ily"s. Did the signal cut off? But it was good enough for him to download a picture even, surely he'd notice if it started lagging and tell you. Did something bad happen? An emergency? An ambush?

A slight frown etched in your face as you started unwillingly thinking of the worst. Then - in a moment - that little green circle signaling Gaz was online came back. And still no answer.

Did he... get actually upset? Over a fucking datesim app?

It was hard to believe. Impossible, even. Kyle was never prone to jealosy fits, smug bastard definitely knew how secure you two were. But maybe... maybe it was the fact that you were seeking comfort he couldn't provide? Being told you needed a whole ass app simply to tell you goodnight while he was god knows where, unable to hold you and cuddle you to sleep - that could sting.

Shit, you shouldn't have started this. Gaz wouldn't outright admit he felt even the slightest bit insecure over an unblinking 3D monstrosity with a sexy Korean voice. He'd think it was stupid - and he would be right, frankly, but in this case this wasn't completely unreasonable.

Already anxious, you put your thumbs back on the phone to type out a careful question, but before you could even think of a right way to formulate it the chat chirped and loaded in a bunch of attachments.

Absolutely scandalous. Hastly unndone uniform, sweaty shirt pulled up and - you knew it even if it was outside the frame - clutched in his teeth, bared in a self-assured smirk, belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops of pants pulled down just a bit; just enough for his hand to slip inside and gather into a delicious grasp around the bulge you knew was straining against his boxers. Fucking tease, pulling the elastic band with his thumb to let you see just the base of his cock - you had to swipe several mouth-watering closeups on his chest, v-line beautifully adorned with dark hair and that bloody hand you already ached to feel on your thigh, before you finally got your reward. Hard just from the thought of you, tip glistening with the pre-cum he definitely smeared all over specifically for that picture.

"wanted to ask if your pixel bf can beat these"

"but i think your silence already says enough 😏"

You groaned, belly warm with the familiar longing. What an angel of a man, finding time to somehow snap packs of perfect nudes in the middle of wherever he was. Already turning over to slide your hand down your body, you sent a very sulking "hate you garrick. first made me worried and now horny, shameless bastard" and got an obligatory "sure you do. i'll fuck that attitude outta you as soon as i get back angel".

Somehow all the need in a virtual replacement vanished after this chat. Not only did Kyle text you more regularly - sensing a competition maybe, huh? - but you also got yourself enough material to be comforted before sleep. Sure, you'd rather have your man there in person, but no perfect-looking anime prince could offer a view better than Kyle's flexed arms or a cheeky sneak peek of his plump ass and a smooth back arch snapped over his shoulder.

No wonder you two threw yourselves at each other when Gaz finally showed up home, tired and a little roghed up, but very much alive and pent up for you. Once you were done relieving some of that frustration and cuddled up after a nice, hot shower, though, Kyle nipped your earlobe teasingly.

"No such level to unlock this experience, huh, angel? Something your app boytoy can't provide."

He caught your arm before you could elbow him playfully and grasped you tighter aroung your waist, using his free hand to get his phone and hold it in front of your face.

"Besides, I think he likes me more."

"How the fuck did you get to level sixty, Garrick?!"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Twilight was peaking how many years ago? And they still have this stupid choice everywhere."

Simon, the unmoving domestic shadow spread in a comfortable sitting position on your couch for the daily quiet together time, turned his head lazily and gently squeezed your thigh, careful not to disturb your legs thrown over his lap as he leaned a bit closer with a mildly interested "Hm?"

"It's this dating game. They're making me choose between a vampire and a werewolf. Can't think of another conflict for the last decade, really? Why not elves versus orcs? They never make stories about sexy orcs. But there's a market for it! Why stick to the same broken record all the time? Or, I don't know, invent beef between fairies and mermaids!" You huffed in exasperation, waving your phone in a vague gesture meant to express your disdain for the lack of creativity in the supernatural romance visual novels department. Ghost's usual intense stare boring into your face could mean anything - from him silently judging you for lacking respect for the culturally impactful vampries-werewolves feud to a wordless question whether you were in the sexy orc enjoyers market.

But when he finally spoke, scarred lips slightly curled upwards in a hint of an amused smile and eyebrows raised, he asked what seemed to catch his attention much more than what fantasy creature you would like to bang.

"A dating game?" His smirk became more prominent, eyes narrowing as an indicator of him looking for a way to quip in the most unbearable way possible. "What's all that about, love?"

The fact that he didn't know wasn't that surprising, you'd be much more astonished if Ghost did know what a dating simulator game was, but the need to explain still caught you off guard, forcing you to pause with the expressive phone gesturing and actually try and describe the phenomenon.

"Well, it's a mobile game, where you, like... have to play through a story with the main thing being befriending and romancing characters. It's mostly reading a story, really, but you get dialogue options to unlock special scenes with your chosen romantic interest or you can give them gifts..." A stolen glance at Simon told you that he was surprsingly paying attention. "But there's often a plot too. The one I started recently is about, well, vampires and werewolves... a Twilight ripoff, basically, but the player gets to be Bella." You paused, gauging his reaction, but other than his calloused fingers kneading the meat of your thigh Ghost didn't even move, leaving you to look at him with suspicion mixed with amusement. "Want me to show you?.."

Finally, his hand stopped its methodical massaging, only to pat your thigh approvingly and help you sit up, cozily snuggled up to the man whose hoodie you shamelessly stole just to wear around him. Wrapping his muscular arm around you, Ghost leaned his head against yours and prepared for the highly educational lecture on the world full of opportunities to get turned down because of having too low approval with the character.

You showed him the exact story that got you so riled up, explained the quite primitive mechanics behind gaining attraction points with the characters and rehashed the entire plot up to the point where you were stuck now - the one where it was obvious the game wanted you to pick a side. Simon listened carefully, gruff chuckles at some of your grumbling and a lot of very insightful commentary on each and every character ("that one's got Johnny's fucking mighty schnotz" and " 'course he's a fucking twat, look at his bloody necktie, a hemp one would be an improvement on 'im"), inculding your own avatar that you spent considerable time making to look like you wanted.

"That supposed to be you, love?" He didn't even try to mask the snarky tone, and you definitely prepared to be offended. You put so much thought into the character looks! So what if they didn't match your real ones fully? It's the game limitations, not your fault. "Hmph. Maybe good enough for these two muppets to fight over. But I reckon I like my version better. Comes with high-quality visuals."

His arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you up for a short and sweet kiss, rough thumb stroking your jawline tenderly and pressing up under your chin when Ghost pulled away with a crooked smirk, shattered with scars into an artful mosaic.

"Trying to get your approval higher, sir?" You teased, eyes darting between his smiling - what a view, honestly - eyes and ready to be kissed again lips. His response was predictable. "It's working, innit, love? Think there's enough for a special bonus scene yet?"

Despite you clearly pretending to think and count his imaginary attraction points, Simon already started pulling you up into his lap, holding you securely and running his fingers along the curve of your back. "Might need a little more convincing, gamer. You didn't even bring a special gift to this date." Ghost's half-lidded eyes sparkled with hidden competitevness and his chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he reached out to take your phone out of your hand softly.

"Gave you the hoodie. It counts." Ignoring your not very convincing protests ("It's mine already, of course it doesn't count!"), he tapped something on your screen and then put the phone away, wrapping his arms back around your form and slowly leaning into a tangled cuddlepile in an almost lying position. All your squirming successfully restrained with a bearhug, you huffed and placed your chin on Ghost's chest, looking up at him. He was there, with you, but deep in his gaze you noticed a certain swrling cloud of thoughts. Reading Simon's eyes was a must with him, he knew you could and didn't ever hide them from you.

"What are you thinking about?" You carefully inquired, running your hands over his shoulders and squeezing gently, a habit helping both of you to ease some tension. Simon blinked, tilting his head slightly, and let out a small sigh, seeking the right words. "You're not playing that game because I'm not doing enough, are you, lovie? 'Cos if you are, I'd rather you tell me what's wrong."

Always straight to the point. At least, when he finally decides to speak up. The big, scary dog worried about a silly mobile game as his competition? Cute. But the seriousness in his eyes called for a proper answer, not a teasing joke or a simple "aww, don't worry".

"You're doing more than enough, Simon, and you know it. It's a game, just living out my fantasies as the main character. But I can delete it if it makes you uncomfortable, it's no big deal, you know?" The tiniest bit of tension you felt underneath your fingertips disappeared, leaving Ghost sinking even further into the couch with you properly wrapped in his protective embrace.

"Nah, gorgeous, you keep playin' whatever shite you wanna be playin'. Just promise to keep me updated on the bloke so I can upstage him in every way." His voice got muffled since he buried his face in your chest, eyes closed peacefully and pure bliss written in all the relaxed features. Cradling his head, you hummed in agreement, but then perked up again.

"Wait, what bloke? You picked one of them for me?" - "Mhm." - "Oh come on, Simon, what happened to the freedom of choice!" You could feel his smile get more prominent despite being hidden in the softness of your chest covered with the thick hoodie material. "Which one did you choose? The vampire 'cause he's wearing all black?"

"Nuh-uh. The other one. The mutt."

You giggled at his choice of words and let out a quiet "oi" when Simon pinched you for disturbing his calm enjoyment of a "bonus scene" with the chosen romance option, that being you.

"Why? You're a Wolf Man fan or something?"

"'f course I am, love. He's British."

Captain John Price

When you saw the notification that the game you got sucked into with the active help of your friends got a "sound update", you knew what that meant - they finally added English voiceover lines for every single hunk of a man you had in your virtual harem, and you couldn't wait to hear what voices they gave your favourites. Given the nature of the game, you decided to put your earbuds on and started listening through the whole voicelines library, busying your hands with mundane tasks like folding laundry. John was sitting in the kitchen, fully immersed into his reading - potentially work-related. Or at least enthralling enough for him to miss your flushed cheeks or periodical giggling.

But no matter how important his reading was, what he couldn't miss was the sultry male voice coming out of your phone with a whispered "Wouldn't you love that, bunny?". Of course the parinig connection between your phone and the wireless earbuds had to get interrupted exactly when you were pouring yourself a cuppa and couldn't even drop the kettle in order to shush the suggestive purring of your digital fave.

You could feel Price staring at you. You could practically hear his bushy eyebrows slowly rising as he patiently waited for you to say something first. You were fully contemplating brewing yourself some poison instead of tea to avoid getting confronted by your man who just heard someone call you bunny on the phone.

So when you didn't start first, John, more amused than anything - he knew you too well to read through all your tiny microreactions and conclude that this wasn't hardcore evidence of an affair, but something much more suitable for future teasing (were you listening to porn or something? a naughty audiobook? oh so many golden opportunities to make you squirm under the steel gaze of the captain) - asked very nonchalantly: "What was that, darling?"

"What?" There was no point in pretending you didn't know what he's talking about, but you still tried. If anything, it allowed you to stall while you very hesitantly turned around and saw John and his smile, not even a hint of sterness in the round plumpness of bearded cheeks and little crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. "What was what, honey? You want some tea too?"

A futile attempt at deflecting and bribery rolled into one. You were lucky you were not his subordinate. You were unlucky the voice of some other man, dripping with mirth, came back into your ear once the next voiceline loaded in and the connection with your earbuds got restored. This was equal to admitting your crimes in front of the judges, but you slowly took your phone out of your pocket and hit pause.

"Does the tea come with an explnation who's the bloke whispering in your pretty ears, bunny? 'Cos if so, I'll take a cuppa, thank you very much."

He was beaming. Leaned back in his chair, knees wide apart and burly arms folded on his chest, Price wanted to have a wee little pause in his serious reading, and watching you squirm was the best distraction and brain-reloading he could ever get.

"I-it's not like that, I promise." Was that a bead of sweat running down your nape? John grunted, cocking an eyebrow and pushing his chin into his chest to stare at you from an angle that best conveyed that "I am not convinced, love" look. "It's just a little game, John, promise. Not a real man, just a made-up character."

Those piercing eyes narrowed even more, silently measuring you up for potentially bullshitting him, and then a heavy hand patted the broad thigh. An order, not an invitation (an order you could always disobey, though...)

"Show me."

Forgetting the option to disobey with little consequences, you hung your head down and dragged yourself and your fresh cuppa over to John, settling in his lap. The tea didn't even make it to the table, he snatched it from your fingers, careful enough not to spill, and sipped loudly, patting your side condescendingly. Any more stalling could result in various stages of burning buttocks, so you complied with the demand without Price repeating himself and opened the app, disconnecting your earbuds in the process.

He clearly wanted to hear that embarassing shit.

Your explanations of what a datesim was seemed to amuse John greatly - knowing his love for farming games, you made sure to mention all the best ones mixing the two genres, clearly trying to sweeten the deal.

"So wha', sum muppet in your phone callin' you bunny and you like 't? Maybe I should start too, huh?" You had to close your eyes to stop the internal screaming, and John's gruff chuckle hit your burning ear with a gentle puff. "But these, erm..." - "Companions." - "Riiight, these companions, they ain't whispering something... naughtier, are they?"

There was a hint of seriousness in his question, so you opened your eyes again and turned to look at him. His face was still smiling calmly, but the expectation was that of an honest and direct answer.

"Well, they do have more explicit scenarios and voicelines..." - "They talkin' dirty to you, eh? Guess I should step up my game." He flexed his jaw and leaned even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips over the tender shell of your ear, soft beard tickling you and leaving you helpless. "Can't have my sweetheart wooed by sum app game fockers, can I? C'mere you little bunny, Imma show you sumthin' to hop on."

He stood up suddenly, lifting you with a soft grunt and dragging you away from the forgotten phone and empty cup. No amount of "John!" squeaked out could save you from that bear of a man groping your ass before throwing you onto bed and climbing on top. His weight squeezed the air out of your lungs as he roamed his big palmes all over your sweet body, even more enthusiastic about the impromptu break in his work.

"Ugh, fine, Johnathan Price, I won't be listening to the spicy dialogues! Just let me finish my-" Absolutely futile, your plea to get back to housework you had planned got cut short by a deep kiss, John's tongue sliding in your mouth as the most efficient (okay, maybe, second most) gag he could use on you. Your hands, previously pressed against his furry chest in an attempt to push him off, relaxed and buried themselves in his thick hair, ruffliing it and tugging him closer by the strands. A low grunt let you know what you already knew and felt much lower - John fully approved both that and your promise to keep away from the horny digital harem.

"Why even bother with 'em bloody games when you can 'ave the real thing, huh?"

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Whit are ye smiling at there, bonnie?"

Before you could even process the question and come up with any answer (excuse) about the silliest giddy smile that a cutscene in your chosen romance route got out of you, your massive - the only way to not be thrown off by Johny "Can't Sleep Still" MacTavish - bed creaked underneath the impressive weight of a fine Scottish specimen. Like a curious pup, Soap squeezed his head through the loop of your arm, earning himself a choking cuddle in the process, and stared into your screen.

"No, Johnny, piss off! It's personal!" You scrambled to turn your phone away from him and held it to your chest, a traitorous warmth in your cheeks threatening to give away what kind of personal it was. Of course, Soap caught on immediately, playful glint in his eyes as he simply yanked the phone out of your grip and turned over onto his back, shamelessly using you as a pillow while he unlocked your screen (why the fuck were you two so trusting and shared passwords!) and looked at the animated cutscene.

And why did it have to be the first spicy one you finally unlocked?

"What's tha'? Didnae peg ye fur a hentai type, bonnie." Soap watched the looped animation for a few more seconds while you wrestled against his heavy fucking carcass helplessly. With a single tap he closed the cutscene and let out an amused hum when met with the continuation of your unlocked chapter. "Och, so ye're reading smut too? Naughty."

You squirmed visciously, fighting for your dignity as he started reading aloud through the desciption of what didn't make the cutscene. The experience was downright horrible, humiliating and arousing at the same time as Johnny's thick brogue and mocking tone killed every ounce of spice in the steamy scene and somehow added new ones. Along with his stuttering. This lad... you even tried to grab his arm and chew on the meaty muscle in hopes of distracting him, but he didn't even flinch, simply pulling his limb out of your grasp and putting it behind his head comfortably. Outraging.

"Slender aristocratic fingers squeezing supple..." he smacked his lips so loudly that you groaned, "...flesh nae hard enough tae leave marks, but enough tae el... elicit pleasure, his breath hot in yer ear, whispering... Hauld yer horses- how come is yer name 'ere, bonnie? Who's writing this fur ye?" You nearly bounced off the bed when Soap suddenly sat up straight, relieving you from his (quite welcome, to be fair) burden, and frowned at your phone, scrolling through the erotc piece as if he could figure out who was the author just from reading it carefully enough. The pout he turned to you with was nothing short of absolutely heartbreaking. "Who's tha' "Laird Sebastian" prick writing a' kinds of nasty shite he wants tae dae tae ma' leannan? Am ah nae enough fur ye, bonnie? Dae ye wanntae leave me fur some posh bastard wi' a stick so far up his arse tha' it pokes outta his yapper?"

It was so obvious that Soap was just taking the piss, but his bottomless puppy eyes with the longest lashes fluttering as if on the verge of tears were working their dark magic, crashing your train of thought like a whole gang of outlaws from the Wild West and coercing you into making an apologetic expression and reaching your arms pleadingly for a hug. "Aw, come on, Johnny, it's just a-"

"Ah dinnae think tis a good idea, love. Ah dinnae have slender aristocratic fingers, wha' if a'm awful lot o' a commoner tae yer tastes..." Soap tilted his chin up, a perfect depiction of dignity suffering horrible offence, and turned away defiently, immediately peeking back at you from the corner of his twinkling blue eye. You knew those little smiling creases too well to miss them forming despite him holding a pout quite successfully, so you scoffed, still slightly flushed from being caught red-handed, and rolled your eyes, snuggling up to Johnny from behind and starting to kiss behind his ear.

"I'm so, so sorry, love of my life. No posh bastards come nowhere near you, you're my favourite commoner. Fuck Lord Sebastian-" You realized you chose the wrong wording when Soap couldn't hold back a snort. "Aye, well, seems lik' ye were planning on doing exactly tha-" - "Oh shut the fuck up, MacTavish!"

Shut the fuck up he did, turning back to face you abruptly and tackling you into the sheets, lavishing kisses with his searing hot lips all over your face. A real mutt pouncing the handler he has no respect and all the love for. There was no choice left for you other than wrap all your limbs around Soap and writhe underneath him, nearly missing that very inconspicuous way he reached his arm out and dropped your phone on the nightstand before cradling your head for much deeper, sloppier kisses.

"Gonna show tha' laird sod how tae fuck mah bonnie real good, aye? Mak' ye come wi' thae fingers right 'ere, nae aristocrat bullshit." Lapping up your neck with his wet tongue, Soap planted a greedy kiss right underneath your jaw and sucked at the soft skin until it showed a little pinkish hue. The bastard was set on making you sing for him, big rough palms grabbing handfuls of your flesh, squeezing and massaging while Johnny kept decending down your body with clear determination. "C'mon, leannan, let me hear ye. Say yer ol' Johnny's better than tha' bawbag Sebastian."

Sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, you held his nape before tugging on his slightly outgrown mohawk, your own head falling backwards in an exhausted yet adoring sigh.

"You know it's just a game, right, loverboy? A dating simulator, not a real thing? Oi, watch it!" A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Soap chomped on your side and immediately nuzzled into your stomach to blow raspberries into the soft plush, catching you once you started squirming and giggling. No intention of letting you catch your breath until he heard what he wanted. "Fine! Fine, Johnny, you are so, so much better than Lord Sebastian."

Satisfied, he loosened his grasp on you and lifted his head, grinning like he's just won you over from somene actually threatening in terms of romance. Hooked his fingers into your housewear bottoms, slowly tugged them down and started trailing hot-mouthed kisses down from your solar plexus, sky blue eyes glazing over with the never-satiated hunger for your taste on his greedy tongue.

You held your breath. A joke was itching inside your mouth, begging to be let out, dancing on the tip of your tongue...

"You're lucky I didn't choose Duke Aaron's route. That's some serious competion."

"Och, away 'n bile yer heid, bonnie!"

Thank you for reading! I appreciate all interactions, likes, reblogs, comments and requests (send in anything for now! I can filter them myself, but I am open to smut, including rare kinks and some dark themes. Keep in mind though that I am limited by my skill & overall prefer sugary fluff. I will write for any of the task force 141 and baldur's gate characters, including parings, poly, x reader and x OC), I will write drabbles, headcanons and whatever else formats you can think of.

Also any corrections are welcome as long as you're not being mean! Thank you <3

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Her Father Comes to Visit

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: I adore this series with all my heart Summary: Her father visits Luke unexpectedly Warnings: None? Word Count: 1,692

It has been far too long since he has gotten his haircut, as he has been traveling tirelessly. He’s been everywhere but Jersey since April. It wasn’t his intention, it was pretty much how his summer plans ended up being.

But here he was standing in the bathroom staring at the nearly shaven sides of his hair. He was constantly battling with what haircut he preferred but he liked the way it looked right now. He was flying to Las Vegas tomorrow for the NHL Awards. He was mainly going to support Quinn, already holding the knowledge that he wasn’t going to win the Calder. Especially since Connor was going to win no matter who else was named a finalist. It was still could to feel recognized. 

He ran his hand across his chin, feeling small stray pieces of hair that he needed to trim off of his face. He sighed as he began to pull out the razor and his shaving cream. The doorbell rang as he furrowed his eyebrows harshly. 

He wasn’t expecting any company, neither was Y/N. She wasn’t even home. She was at work for another hour. He cautiously placed his razor back onto the bathroom counter before he cautiously walked through the pristine apartment. He had spent all morning cleaning before he went and got his hair chopped off.

He walked towards the door, hesitantly gazing through the peep hole to see Y/N’s father standing outside the door. He quickly pulled his head back, his eyes widening. Suddenly, he could hear his heartbeating rapidly as a wave of nausea flowed through his body. Pressing his lips together, he took a deep breath as he carefully pulled the door open.

Luke smiled a tight lip smile as he swallowed hard, “Y/N’s not here, she’s at work for another hour,” Luke choked out as he stepped to the side, opening the door a bit wider.

“Good, I came to see you,” he mumbled as he walked inside, without asking. Luke delicately shut the door behind her father as he nervously fiddled with the handle as he watched him look at every inch of the apartment he could see. “You didn’t add many decorations,” he observed.

Luke dropped his head as he took a small step towards the center of the apartment where he was standing. “I just had some photos that I framed,” Luke let out shyly, “And like clothes and stuff,” he continued, but he wasn’t sure why the words were leaving his lips. Her father nodded slowly as he continued looking around the apartment.

He took a few steps towards the new collection of photos of Luke and Y/N. He walked up to it, getting a good look of every single one.

The first one her father looked at was a mirror selfie. She held the phone, a wide genuine smile on her lips. He had a hold of her face, his hand held her chin and jaw in place as he passionately kissed her cheek.

The second one was a photo of Luke laying on her chest, his eyes looking up towards her, puppy dog like. She was smiling sleepily as she met his gaze. It was a FaceTime screenshot that her sister took while they were FaceTiming several months ago. The live photo of that moment is Luke’s lockscreen. Every time he misses her he looks down towards his phone and holds his thumb down against the screen and watches the short four second moment.

The third photo was a photo of Y/N and Luke standing beside one another holding the overflowing vases of roses. Luke was smiling a genuine wide toothy grin as she was crying tears of joy. She’s spent their whole time together admiring those roses, but seeing them bunch together had her sobbing.

The fourth and final photo was a photo of them together after Luke’s final game as a rookie. They didn’t win the game but Luke still had a wide smile on his lips as he looked down towards her. His hand was low on her waist as she was pulled tightly towards him.

“She smiles a lot around you,” her father let out finally after what felt like many unbearably long seconds. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her smile like that.” He soon spun around to meet Luke’s gaze, unsure of what to say next he points towards the couch. Luke nods as the pair awkwardly sits on the opposite ends of the couch.

“I’m stubborn,” her father continued, he took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You two living together is like I’m losing my daughter. I mean clearly I’ve already lost her long time ago if I can’t remember the last time she’s smiled like that,” He said as he pointed towards the photos on the wall besides the TV. 

Luke chewed his lip for a moment before he sat up straighter as he rested his hands onto his knees. “Y/N’s my first girlfriend. I was always so focused on hockey and trying to beat the best that I never wanted a relationship. But then I met Y/N and I will swear by this until forever that the world literally got brighter when she smiled at me,” he expressed, a soft chuckle leaving his throat. 

Her father laughed as a smile formed to his lips, “I said that in my vows,” his father let out shocked at his own words.

“Actually?” Luke forced out. Her father nodded as he took in a sharp breath. Luke tilted his head back as he clenched his jaw nervously. “I’m terrified that us living together has ruined your relationship with Y/N. I know how important it is to her that you like her boyfriends.”

“You’re the first one that’s made her happy. I knew that the second I saw you two walk into my house. I liked you from that moment. I don’t like that you’re a professional athlete, but I see that for eighty-two games you kept your promise that you told my daughter at the beginning of the season,” her father said as he pointed towards the vases of flowers. 

“She told you about that?” Luke asked. Her father nodded.

“I needed time to mourn that my daughter isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s happy and in love and I can’t stop that. I can’t stop her from growing up. So I got mad, I do that sometimes, I got mad at you guys. But you make her happy so I can’t be mad anymore. Which is why I needed to talk to you first,” her father expressed. He slowly stood up from the couch, holding out his hand. Luke quickly followed in pursuit as he shook her father’s hand. 

The apartment door was pushed open as an excited Y/N walked inside, “Lukey Love, I got done with work early, so I brought you some-” she stopped short as she rested the two pizza boxes on the counter, “Dad?” she asked softly. 

“Hey sweetheart, why doesn’t Luke have more decorations, it’s his apartment too,” her father said as he walked towards her. He stared towards her dad suspiciously as she shifted her gaze towards Luke. Luke simply shrugged as he excitedly jogged past her father and Y/N towards the pizza. 

“He didn’t bring anything, not my fault,” she mumbled with a grin as she excitedly wrapped her arms around her fathers neck as he hugged her. “So-so you’re okay with this?” she asked as she glanced towards Luke who was already half way done with the slice he had grabbed. 

“I want you happy, he makes you happy right?” he asked, eyeing Luke. 

“So happy, Dad,” she mumbled as she glanced towards him, nudging him slightly. 

“Sorry, starving. There’s enough for you too, Mr. Y/L/N,” he expressed as he lifted the cardboard of the pizza box again. Her father chuckled.

“Better grab a slice before this kid eats it all,” he joked as he took one. Y/N blinked away the happy tears forming in her eyes as she watched her father and Luke interact. 

~~~

She sat on the bed, the blanket covering her lower frame as she clicked through the collection of movies on Hulu. She sighed as she watched Luke walk into their bedroom, black sweatpants low on his frame as he ran his fingers through his damp curly hair. She shifted her gaze towards him, her cheeks heating up as she scanned his shirtless frame. 

His lips curled up in a small smirk as he stood beside her at the bed. “You okay?” he asked barely above a whisper as he ran his hand across her jawline. He forced her gaze towards him. She smiled as she met his gaze. 

“I’m happy,” she mumbled. He smiled as he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her lips. He pulled away for a moment before he pecked her lips once more. “I love you,” she whispered. 

He hummed happily as he climbed over her body as he plopped down beside her. “I love you more,” he whispered as he slowly climbed under the comforter. She clicked a random movie before she cuddled into Luke. Resting her head onto his bare chest, she could hear his heartbeat. Slow and content. “When your dad showed up earlier, I thought he was going to beat my ass,”

She chuckled softly as she ran her fingertip along his chest, drawing small circles. “He can’t hurt a fly,” she teased.

“Tell that to my head, still hurts from the panic attack I went through,” he said half joking. She lifted her head up, looking down towards him. She lifted her hand up as she caressed his cheek slowly. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. Lifting his hand up, he took a hold of her neck, her hair cascading over his hand. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” she muttered, a teasing grin on her lips. “My pretty boy,” she whispered before she leaned towards him, kissing him softly.

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back. (college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

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taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles @hardlystrictlystarwars @migueloharastruelove @fruityfucker @kingtwhiddleston n @nappingmoon

chapter seven: an interesting observation of your stupidity and insensibility.

series

Pissed would be an understatement if you were to describe Miguel's reaction when he found out.

“Whoa, whoa –” Peter’s expression changes to concern as Miguel emerges from his bedroom with a look of pure irritation on his face. Peter leans against the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal in one hand. “Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

“Did you know someone put my car up on craigslist?”

“What?”

“My car.” Miguel emphasizes, his tone growing thick with impatience. “Why the fuck is it up for sale?”

Peter frowns. “I don’t– I don’t understand, what are you talking about?”

Miguel sighs, unlocking his phone to show Peter a screenshot that Gabriel had sent.  “Look.”

“And that wasn’t you?”

Miguel curses. “Of course it wasn’t me! Why would I sell my car for 69 bucks?”

It takes everything in Peter not to let out a laugh. “Well, it wasn’t me.” He attempts to defend himself with a mouthful of cereal. “ Miguel , I swear I had nothing to do with it–”

“I know.” He cuts off, waving a hand to dismiss him. “You’re too idiotic to do something like this.” Miguel squints, inspecting the ad; there’s even a fake email with his name attached to it. “I just– I don’t know anyone who would do something like this.”

 “Anyone you can think of? Maybe anyone you pissed off lately?”

Miguel shakes his head, glancing down at the ad again. Other than Peter there’s no other person who comes to mind. Just when Miguel was about to suggest reporting it to authorities, Peter speaks up.

“ Oh , maybe it was your friend.”

“What friend?”

“The one who works at the cafe.”

Miguel holds back a scoff at the thought. You , his friend? He barely even considers you an acquaintance. 

“She’s definitely not my friend. Never was and never will be.”

 Miguel gives Peter a clear look implying that he should elaborate nonetheless. Peter swallows, taking another bite of his breakfast before speaking. His words are muffled by his chewing – a pet peeve of Miguel’s – but he can just about make them out.

“She told me that she was friends with you but she needed a favor from me. And then, she told me that you were picking her up somewhere but she didn’t know what your car looked like and she didn’t have your number so, moi,” he pointed at himself with his spoon, “being a very good friend gave her your number and got a picture of your car for her on your behalf. I think she’s in your genetics class or something, right? But I did that because she said she wouldn’t be able to see you for the rest of the week and then she saw me at work and found out that I was your roommate which is why she asked me in the first place. Anyways, because I helped her out I finally got MJ’s number which was what I was meant to tell you yesterday but you were in a mood and—”

What?

At this point Miguel blocks out Peter as he rambles on, trying to comprehend his side of the story.

It was you. Of course it fucking was. He should hardly be surprised. 

Miguel storms away without another word, his face struck with anger.

“Hey, where are you–”

The door slams before Peter can even finish his sentence.

“And I didn’t even get to tell you the best part.”

/

Okay…so maybe he wasn’t too serious about reporting you to the police. But could you really blame him? 

His week was already heading for the shits when deadlines after deadlines began to be set. Not to mention the stress of lab work with two incompetent idiots who refuse to do anything, resulting in Miguel doing it all himself. Then the incessant texts from Gabriel begging him to talk to mamá, which only dug up memories of Miguel’s last unforgettable conversation with her which therefore reminded him of the upcoming anniversary . 

And then there was you .

You were the sickeningly sweet cherry on top of the dog pile of shit; causing an inconvenience to his life which only seemed to be full of inconveniences. 

At this point Miguel’s beginning to think that going to college was more of a curse than it was a blessing; perhaps bad karma for his behavior before he left home.

Either way, you were his last straw.

For the remainder of the day, a sullen expression was glued to Miguel’s face. Those around him actively avoided him, walking around him as if he were some sort of minefield; tiptoeing to avoid accidentally setting him off.

It wouldn’t be the first time. From a child through to his early adolescence he was used to being alone. Sitting in a corner by himself with nothing but a ‘simple introduction to all things science for teens’ textbook to keep him company . Throughout his childhood, his withdrawn demeanor caused him to stand out from the others, constantly being told by teachers to ‘smile more.’

But back then there was nothing to smile about.

It wasn’t until Jess approached him that afternoon that he actually considered letting off steam. He was surprised at first that she was coming to him, only noticing her a few times in his cells and molecular seminars.

“Wanna come out for drinks with us tonight?”

He hesitates at her question, his mouth slightly ajar; dumbfounded that she was addressing him directly.

 “You look like you need it.” She adds on.

He’s caught in a moment of insecurity, almost surprised that his social life is taking off. In that same moment he remembers the words of his seventh grade teacher echoing in his mind: ‘How are you going to make friends, Miguel, if you keep pushing them away? Give it a chance.’

And so he did. Ending up in a club a few blocks away from campus with shitty music and too many college students. The stench of sweat causes his nose to scrunch up as he squeezes past a sea of bodies just to make it to the bar.

Did he regret coming here tonight? Maybe. But it was better than staying cooped up in his room all night doing a piece of lab work that his classmates should have done.

Miguel waits his turn at the bar, eyes scanning the club as he does so. Strobe disco lights bounce across the walls, changing color in beat with the pounding music. If he stares for too long his eyes begin to hurt so instead he squints, still studying the room as he tries to remember the orders he was given. His lips move a little, mumbling to himself. “One gin and tonic, margarita and— 

His sentence cuts short, body freezing at the recognition of you. He didn’t notice you at first, the lighting of the club being too dim to make out anyone’s face. It was only as you turned towards the bar, standing directly across from him, that he noticed you.

He watches you from afar as you wave the bartender down but then you pause for a split second, sensing a pair of eyes on you and glance back at Miguel.

He feels your sense of panic as you look at him. He too silently curses himself for meeting your eyes. You look away as quickly as you can, the bartender now approaching you. 

As much as he hates to admit, he can’t tear his eyes off you as you lean over the bar– drunkenly he notices– to shout your order to the bartender.

Just at the sight of you, anger grew from the pit of his stomach. After your conversation earlier he had sworn that he wanted nothing to do with you. By now, you’ve probably already removed the ad but that still doesn’t excuse your actions. 

Despite his rage, Miguel just can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you; he watches as you pull back from the bar, stumbling a little. He can sense you actively avoiding his eye contact; just one look at him and your face cringes with embarrassment. 

He can’t remember what sparked his body to move closer to you. Maybe it was some left over resentment or pure concern at the sight of watching you drunkenly attempt to look as sober as possible. Even reflecting back, he’s still not sure what made him gravitate towards you. Maybe curiosity? Maybe boredom?

 or maybe he just wanted one last petty dig at his nemesis.

For a guy of his stature, it’s easy enough to push past the sea of people in his way who immediately make room. Just a few meters away from you, he sees the bartender pass over the two shots you had ordered.

 Miguel frowns. “Don’t you think you should slow down a little?”

You’re clearly caught off guard, nearly spilling shots in surprise as you turn your head to see him. 

Miguel’s brown eyes take you in, pouring over your outfit; a tight dress that suits your skin tone; it’s a little short but he can tell you’re playful with it, accentuating your curves and tits but his eyes move away quickly. For a second, he’s grateful about the club’s dark lightning as you miss the way that his face heats up.

“And don’t you think you should mind your business?” Your pronunciation sounds heavy, no doubt due to the alcohol, yet Miguel can’t miss the lethal tone as you speak. “How long have you been watching me?”

He’s caught off guard, stammering quietly but you don’t notice due to the music in the background.

“I wasn’t watching.” Is all that he could come out with.

You scoff a little. “Right.” You say sarcastically before taking the shots; one right after the other. Miguel raises a brow as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, wincing a little at the taste. “And I’m totally not trying to get black-out drunk.”

“Any reason why you’re doing so?”

You snort after his question, holding back a laugh. “Why are you even talking to me? Shouldn’t you be busy calling the police on me?” 

You fiddle with the empty shot glasses in your hands and Miguel senses your ever-growing frustration as you glare. He hesitates, unsure of his reasons for both questions. You turn around once you sense he has nothing more to say.

 “I’m going to get another shot so if you don’t mind please leave me alone.”

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?”

The words leave his mouth before he can even think. No , he doesn’t have your schedule memorized. He’s just noticed that whenever he has a genetics lecture at 9am, you’re usually on shift that day too. Miguel notices your face fall at the realization, your confidence soon draining out of you.

You shrug halfheartedly. “So what?”

“You need to go home.”

“And you need to leave me alone.”

Miguel stops himself from scoffing. You look like you can barely stand, trying to lean back on the bar for support. He repeats his words again, his voice a little more stern as a crease appears between his brows. “And you need to go home.”

“I said—”

The rest of your sentence was interrupted by your phone buzzing, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess what you were going to say. Closely, he watches your expression turn from frustration to a sense of dismay, eyes glued to your phone. You begin to chew on your lower lip with Miguel silently observing your dejection, managing to lip read the words that slip quietly from your tongue.

Someone’s not coming back?

At this he takes his chance. 

“I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words abruptly bring you back to reality and you snap your head back up at him in surprise as if he’s just grown two heads. You let a small pause pass through before coming up with an answer.

“Uhmmmm, no.”

“Why–”

“Because.”

 “That’s not a reason, nena , you can barely stand.”

“Because I hate you and I want nothing to do with you.”

The second your venomous words leave your mouth, he’s taken aback, eyes widening a little. It takes him a second to reconcile his thoughts. The words leave Miguel’s dry throat in an empty tone.

“You’re drunk.” 

“Drunk enough to know that I still fucking hate you.”

The second time that that word leaves your tongue, a chill runs through his spine; and as if you’ve set off a trigger, faded and blurry memories suddenly begin to resurface through his mind.

There’s a voice in his mind from his distant childhood, where the words “I hate you” were constantly thrown at him in another language. That same voice conditioning him to think that all he caused was screaming and shouting throughout the house.

You don’t hear Miguel repeat his words a little quieter. “You’re drunk.” 

You don’t mean it, he thinks. Internally, he tells himself a little more sharply. You don’t mean it. Of course you don’t. You don’t even know his past. It’s not the same. You’re just drunk.

“I should be the one hating you. You tried to sell my car.” As soon as that reminder slips from his lips, Miguel knows he’s accidentally set off a trigger. 

Your expression turns to rage, pointing at his chest furiously. “Because you were a fucking asshole to me and wrote a fucking mean ass review about me!”

Miguel quickly notices multiple eyes suddenly looking in his direction. Fuck , he does not want to be attracting too much attention right now. 

He lowers his tone a little, drawing in closer to you so that you’re the only person who can hear his words. “You did all this because I was rude to you?” Por favor, dame fuerza. ” He lets the ‘r’ roll off his tongue, fingers grabbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

He needed to get out here. He can’t do this. He can’t fucking stand you and your nonsensical behavior. Miguel’s chest begins to rise and fall a little more heavily; he was beginning to get overwhelmed. Your loss of temper, your words and the resurfacing memories were all getting a bit too much for him. A migraine was beginning to catch on with the pounding music only seeming to grow louder with every song.

“So when your boss criticizes your work, you’re just gonna go out and break the law for some petty revenge?”

“You’re not my boss, that’s the difference.”

“And if I was, I’d fire you in a heartbeat.” He snaps, locking eyes with you. For a moment, it seems like everything stops. The noises, the people, the flashing lights all fade into one hazy background as the two of you stare at each other with mutual hate and anger. A whole ten seconds seem to pass by before you succumb to his gaze and glance away.

You don’t understand him and he doesn’t understand you. He doubts he ever will. 

“I hate you.” You mutter. 

“Ditto here, nena .”

The little nickname has caught onto him. It’s become a habit that he can’t shake off. He says it more out of spite rather than a term of endearment. Miguel remembers when he called you ‘nena’ for the very first time. He noticed how your nose scrunched up and how you tried to ignore it, unsure of the exact meaning of the word yet you didn’t miss the sense of ridicule in his voice each and every time he said it. 

“I’m going.” you announce, turning away from him and camouflaging into the crowd. Miguel grits his teeth out of frustration as you disappear. Although, with his height he can just about make out your figure. It’s not until he sees you snap back at a stranger and spill his drink that he rolls his eyes.

Here you go again. You can barely go two minutes without causing a  problem. 

From just a few meters away, Miguel can see your expression change from annoyance to fear as the stranger begins to shout in your face, edging closer to you. Squinting, Miguel notices your wrist being held by the man and without thinking, he steps in.

“Maybe you should keep your hands to yourself then, compa .”

He scans the man up and down. The figure sways back and forth, an ugly drunk expression written all over his face. Ah, he’s one of those guys. The ones who get riled up over jack shit and want their egos validated by taking it out on others. 

Miguel turns his back on the figure, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Quick, before he gets angry. I think this asshole’s drunk.”

A mumble leaves your mouth as you turn to leave. 

“I’m taking you back to your dorm room. No ifs or buts.” The two of you easily weave in and out of the crowd, thanks to Miguel’s height.

Soon spotting Jess, he leads you over to her table.

Jess opens her mouth to scold Miguel for taking so long with the drinks before realizing that he hasn’t got any in his hands. Instead, a hand is latched to your arm as you stumble drunkenly next to him.

“Jess, I’m going to take her home.”

“Whoa, whoa.”

“Ay, por dios– not my home. I’m taking her back to her dorm room, she’s someone I know and her drunk ass is going to pass out at any second.” Miguel scrunches up his nose in disgust. 

God , no . It would never be like that. You’d have to be the last person on earth to even think about that. No, not even the last person. He’s confident in his decision to let humanity go extinct rather than…that. Despite his dislike for you as a person  right now, there was a part of him that was enough of a decent human being to make sure that you got home safe.

Of course, that was the least he could do. 

/

“I hate you Miguel O’hara.”

“Uh-huh, you keep telling me that.”

He’s learned to face your words a little more assertively than before but they still dig into his skin a little, despite him telling himself that you’re not in the right state of mind. 

You’re mostly using Miguel for balance as the two of you walk across campus to get to your dorm. Your heels echo off the walls of closed campus buildings, the  late October chill running through Miguel’s body. But despite this, he’s still rather warm. Whether it comes from his pent up anger from earlier or because his body hasn’t adjusted to the chill of the night just yet, he’s unsure.

“Just making sure that you won’t forget.” you say, a cloud of warm air leaving your mouth and dissipating into the late night.

“I sure won’t.”

“You ruined my life.”

“You did it to yourself, nena .”

His words are harsh but true; Miguel doesn’t fully realize the extent of his words after a long pause between the two of you. 

“I did, didn't I?”

“Oh, please don’t start crying again–”

It had taken Miguel a full fifteen minutes to get you to stop crying earlier after your near clash with the stranger.

“Who’s gonna buy him a drink? Oh my god, he’s gonna find out where I live and–.”

“He doesn’t even know who you are, you’ll live.”

Unfortunately Miguel’s words die on deaf ears as you begin to break down. He sighs, letting go of your hand as you cry for the second time tonight.

“I’m such a bad person, I-I-I ruined my life by trying to sell your car and I nearly got fired at my first ever job and I lied to my mom…” You pause, reflecting on your words. “I lied to my mom.”

Miguel shrugs. It’s not the worst thing in the world, compared to his relationship with his own mother, it seems pretty insignificant. 

“We all have, haven’t we?” His words have a slight tone of regret, the memory of his harsh conversation with his mother arising again.

“I lied to my mom about having a boyfriend!” you exclaim. “And-and-and I’m a terrible daughter and I deserve death! and– and—”

Miguel’s eyes widen at your words, he doesn’t hesitate in scolding you for your language. “ Hey , hey , don’t say that about yourself.”

He’s not really sure about what you’re talking about and he’s not going to ask, but the last thing he wants to deal with tonight is a drunk and self-destructive college student. 

 Maybe he should’ve stayed at home and done the lab work.

“But I lied and now she– she’s expecting me to bring someone over for thanksgiving and I don’t have anyone because I’m a liar and a criminal and I’m going to prison!” You kneel down against the pavement, an endless stream of tears running down your face.

Awkwardly, Miguel watches you break down. For a second, he panics, scanning around for any person nearby to help him. He’s not really the right person to be helping you with…this. A street light flickers nearby, the only sound on campus is you sobbing and the faint sound of a siren across the city.

Miguel doesn’t even know why you’re being so dramatic but he blames it on the alcohol. So you lied about having a boyfriend?  So what? If anything, he’s done much worse. But he’s not even going to ask. He doesn’t want to be involved with your shit. Whatever problems you have, he does not want to be a part of it. 

But he does want to get you out of here as soon as possible before anyone comes across him standing awkwardly next to a girl sobbing in the streets.

He crouches down, trying to meet your eyes.  “C’mon, let’s get you to bed and you can sleep and forget that this never happened.”

You lift up your head, tears dripping from your chin. “No. I- I won’t forget, I’ll just remember it all over again and– and –”

“Hey, look at me.” Your eyes meet his and he makes sure that his tone is more mellow than before. “I promise you’ll go to sleep and forget all about this okay? I promise.”

“Do you pinky promise?” You hold out your pinky in front of him. 

“I pinky-promise.” He sighs.

You shake your head, pouting. “No, you have to link with me.”

Internally, he curses; rolling his eyes before finally joining your pinky with his.

Slowly but surely he manages to get you to stand up again, leading you to your accommodation block. You’ve now gone silent, only letting out a few hiccups here and there. Miguel asks if you’re alright and you let out a nod. Soon enough, you make it to your apartment building and he  carefully helps you up the flight of stairs; a hand gripping onto his large bicep for support. He says nothing about it, now letting you lead the way to your dorm room.

The two of you stand awkwardly outside your door, silence infiltrating the entire corridor as neither of you know what to say. Miguel soon decides to break the silence.

“You think you’ll be okay?” His voice is still soft.

 A small part of him wants to ask more about your…dilemma . But he soon reminds himself that it’s none of his business, that he shouldn’t even care. He just wants to get you home and leave you alone. Hopefully, never having to speak to you again after tonight.

You don’t let out a reply and instead ignore him, heading inside without so much as a last glance back to him. The door slams shut in his face, echoing loudly down the soulless corridor. A faint thump of music and muffled conversation are heard from the dorm rooms on the floor above.

Miguel’s mouth is slightly agape, his chance to recommend water or aspirin is now lost.His mouth closes slowly and he exhales through his nostrils. Letting out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders dropping. 

Pulling out his phone, eyes search for the name ‘Lyla’ . He sends a text to make sure that you get the support that you need tomorrow morning. Sure, you’re not his favorite person in the world right now, but he knows what regret feels like in the form of a pounding headache.

Miguel moves to lean next to the wall beside your door, tilting his head back as he closes his eyes. He’s beginning to feel a migraine come on. Ever so softly he can hear little shuffles behind your door, no doubt you trying to drunkenly make it to your room. 

This night had to be one of his worst nights in college so far and it’s not even the end of October yet. 

He hates you, he thinks. You irritate him with the way that you talk and the way that you somehow attempted to sell his fucking car. You irritate him in a way that he can’t stand, making him swear that he wants nothing more to do with you. In fact that’s what he told himself today, after your conversation at the cafe. Tonight was just an anomaly. A situation of him doing the bare minimum so that you’d end up without regret tomorrow morning. 

Only now, does he finally get a chance to respond to the multiple remarks you’ve spat at him the entire night.

“I fucking hate you, too.” he mumbles, the words barely audible from his lips.

reblogs are much appreciated, thank you for reading!! lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

[skzdust]

A Lesson in Patience

THIS IS SMUT. MINORS DNI.

Had soooo much fun writing this! It's a bit longer than my usual stuff, but let me know if you guys like it! This was a request, check my masterlist to see if requests are currently open!

Summary: Your boyfriend Jeongin likes to keep tabs on your apartment with security cameras when he's out, and one evening you're touching yourself when he's told you not to.

Pairing: bf!Jeongin x afab/fem!reader

Includes: masturbation, "good girl", "slut", "fucktoy", praise, praise mixed with degradation, face fucking, unprotected vaginal sex (PLEASE use condoms and pee after sex), penetration, sleepy sex, kisses, cuddles

Word count: 2.3k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife, @tsunderelino

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

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Jeongin isn’t paranoid; that’s an extreme word. Cautious, maybe. Careful, definitely. The worst it got was the cameras he’d installed at the door and windows to your apartment, and one in the living room, where the door opened into. You don’t mind, it’s good to be safe, and he’s the only one who has the app that connects to them. You trust him. Most of the time you don’t even remember they’re there.

You don’t remember they’re there when Jeongin leaves for dinner with his friends, kissing you on the cheek and winking as he walks out. You don’t remember they’re there as you fix yourself some food. You don’t remember they’re there when you think of his instruction not to touch yourself, because he wants you desperate for him when he gets back—that was the whole point of spending an hour teasing you before he left. You don’t remember they’re there when you decide to disobey.

Jeongin will never know, right? It’ll just take the edge off the sexual frustration. And then you’ll be ready for him when he’s back.

You wiggle off your shorts, leaning back on the couch and getting comfortable before moving a hand down. You’re wetter than you had thought you were, although it doesn’t surprise you, with the way your boyfriend had been working you up.

Your finger begins to circle your clit, and you close your eyes, sighing heavily in both pleasure and disappointment.

It feels good, but it’s not him.

“Jeongin,” You say softly, imagining he’s there. “Jeongin, please.”

You keep going, your voice getting whiny, despite the lack of response. “I need you, need your cock in me, need it now.”

He’s been working you up all afternoon, and now is your chance to cum before he gets home. You feel dirty, getting off in secret like this, even secret from your boyfriend, to whom you tell everything. It’s turning you on even more, and you know that even when you do cum, you’ll be ready for more from him.

As you approach your orgasm, your breathing gets faster, heavier, your voice rising. “In—in me, please, please, inside me…”

You’re only touching your clit. You want to feel the stretch of Jeongin’s cock, want to hear his voice as he fills you up, want to see his face as you—

Your hips buck up as you cum, and you yell his name, your voice sounding even louder in your empty living room. But, fuck, all you can think about is him.

As you lay on the couch, breathing hard in the aftermath of your orgasm, your phone buzzes beside you.

Jeongin.

I’m almost home.

The attached picture is a screenshot of Jeongin’s alarm app, showing you, half-naked on the couch.

Your heart leaps. Fuck. You remember they’re in a restaurant on the same block you live on.

You drop your head back on the pillow with a groan.

A few minutes later, there’s a noise. You sit up, pulling your shorts back on as quickly as you can. The door opens, and Jeongin locks it before holding up his phone and looking at you. “Wanna explain why I got a noise alert during dinner?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, not looking at him, still adjusting your shorts.

“Oh, I think you do.” He steps towards you, gently tilting your chin up. You meet his eyes, and you’re taken off guard by how sweetly he smiles. “Baby, you’re not good at being subtle. I know how needy you are when you’re turned on. Which is why I wasn’t surprised by this.” His hand finds your pussy, and you moan as he begins to slowly rub on top of your shorts. “But I am gonna have to teach you a lesson.” He pulls his hand away just as quickly, raises his eyebrows. “You understand, right?”

You’re breathless already. “Yes.”

“Good.” He steps away. “I’m going to go change, and I’m expecting you to be ready when I’m out of the bathroom. “

You nod and stand to follow him to your bedroom. He disappears into the bathroom, and you rush to get on a set of lingerie you know he loves and arrange yourself on the bed.

He walks out of the bathroom in a simple sweatshirt and boxers, but all you can think about is his body underneath that, his chest, his arms, his—

“Aw, baby, look at you, so pretty for me.” His voice is soft, which you know is more dangerous than if he were hardcore degrading you from the beginning. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

The words send a rush of arousal through you, and you wet your lips with your tongue. “Please do.”

“Mm… why don’t we start with you choking on my cock? And then we’ll see if you’re a good enough girl to get fucked.” He gently tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. “On your knees, baby.”

You can’t get to the floor fast enough, kneeling beside the bed and parting your lips.

“Aww, doing so good already, aren’t you?” Jeongin’s voice is getting a hint of mockery, saccharine sweetness dripping from his words as he slips down his boxers, freeing his cock. His hand slides into your hair at the back of your head, and his fingers tangle there. He pulls back, making you tilt your head up towards him, and he puts two fingers into your mouth. You’re buzzing with desire as he slowly fucks your mouth with them, looking into your eyes.

He removes them, and you start begging. “Please, can I have your cock?”

“Are you gonna touch yourself while I fuck your face?”

You shake your head. “No, sir, I won’t.”

“Good girl.” He caresses your face, clicking his tongue once. “Such a pretty face. I’m gonna use that little mouth, and you’re gonna be a good girl and take it.” He pauses for a moment. “You remember your colors?”

“Mhm. Red, yellow, green.” You nod.

“And if you can’t speak and you need to stop?”

You tap his thigh three times.

“Perfect. My perfect girl.” He hums, beginning to guide his cock towards your mouth. “My perfect slut.”

You moan, letting your mouth drop open. His degradation always gets to you, and he knows just what words to use to turn you needy and desperate.

“Good.” Jeongin thrusts into your mouth, and your eyes flutter as you taste him.

You begin to fall into a rhythm with him, gasping for breath when he’s out of your mouth and choking on him when he thrusts into you. He’s making little noises that drive you crazy. One can only be described as a whimper, and you’re reminded that he’s not just dominating you in bed to get off, but that he’s yours, your man, your sweet Jeongin who wants you just as bad as you want him. He’s treating you rough because you both like it; he’s not using just anyone as his perfect slut.

Thinking about that is only turning you on more, and it’s becoming a struggle not to touch yourself. You concentrate on what he’s started to say.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me, such a good slut, such a perfect little fucktoy…” He mutters, pushing himself into your mouth to punctuate each name he calls you. You moan, so horny you can barely think about anything but the ache between your legs.

“Can you take my cum, baby, can you be so good and swallow all my cum?” He practically pants, going faster. “I’ll give you a reward for being such a good girl. I love you, baby, I—ngh!” His hand tightens in your hair, and you keep your mouth open, trying to swallow as much of his cum as you can.

He sighs, and his hips still. He pulls out of your mouth. Both of you are breathing hard, and you know there’s spit and cum running down your face, but you don’t care. All you need is stimulation, now.

“Sir, please will you fuck me now? Please?” You look up at him, and you know you look pathetic, but you hope that’s helpful in your attempt to convince him.

He pushes his hair back. “Get on the bed, slut.”

You jump up, laying on your back and spreading your thighs.

“Oh, baby, you’re so needy.” Jeongin pulls off his sweatshirt, and no matter how many times you see them, his abs are still incredibly hot. He takes off his boxers, too, and climbs on the bed to lay next to you. “What if we just go to bed, hm?”

“Nooo,” You whine. “I need you to fuck me, sir, please.”

“Well, I already came, so I see no reason why I’d need to fuck you again.”

“Please?”

He ignores you. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”

“Please, Jeongin, I need something, I need you!”

“You need me?” He turns to look at you. “Why would you need me when you can just touch yourself on the couch?” A grin plays at the corners of his mouth.

You groan. “Is this my lesson?”

“It is. A lesson in patience.” He gets a finger under your bra strap, running it up and down your skin. “How about this, baby. You did so good just now, so we’re gonna go to sleep now, but in the morning, I’ll wake you up with my cock.”

“In the morning?” You whisper.

“Mhm.”

“That’s so long!”

“That’s the point.” He shifts onto his back with a smug smile.

“I hate you.”

“Would you rather I not?”

“No, no!” You rush. “Please, please do.”

He laughs softly. “Alright. Then goodnight, my love.”

“‘Night.”

You roll onto your side, trying to quell the need burning through you. You don’t succeed, and dirty thoughts of Jeongin calling you names, teasing you, touching you, fucking you persist in your mind late into the night. You tighten your thighs, searching for any respite from the arousal, but you know that at this point nothing but Jeongin’s cock will provide that.

Eventually, you fall into sleep, although it’s nothing but sex dreams that a part of your sleeping brain knows aren’t real.

It’s definitely not morning yet when you swim awake at the sensation of a hand on your back. “Mm?” You move your face towards Jeongin.

“Shh, relax, baby, let me make you feel good.” He whispers, his hand gently moving across your skin. “Let me fuck you real good.”

You moan softly. “Please.”

“Aw, my good girl, my good slut, gonna make you feel so good.” He continues, rolling you onto your back. You spread your legs, mumbling something that’s mostly incoherent with sleep.

“What was that, baby?”

“Said I want you inside me.” You repeat, taking his hand and leading it down.

He swears. “You’re all wet already.” His voice takes on a slightly teasing tone, but it’s still heavy with desire in the dark. “Have you been thinking about me?”

“Yeah.”

His fingers circle around your clit a few times. “Good girl. You’re gonna feel so nice around me, aren’t you? All tight and wet and warm…” His voice tightens. “Perfect little slut. I’m gonna fuck you so good… you’ve earned a reward.”

You whimper quietly. “Please, Jeongin, can’t wait, need you now.”

“Needy baby.” He presses a kiss to your temple, then moves over you, teasing your entrance for a moment before pushing a finger inside you.

Your lips part. “Fuck, need more.”

“Like I said. Needy baby.” He adds another finger, fucking you slowly.

You look at him, his blond hair falling over his face, his eyes on yours, both of you still sleepy. He’s beautiful in a million different ways, and your chest suddenly feels too tight to hold all the love you feel for him.

He pulls out his fingers, wiping them on your thigh. He helps you out of your underwear and props a pillow underneath your hips. “Ready?”

“Mhm.”

It feels like Jeongin presses the air out of your lungs as he feeds his cock into your hole, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You savor the his stretch. The way his fingertips feel on your hip. He’s half-suspended over you, his body encompassing yours, and you arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him.

“Fuck.” His voice is low and husky as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. He takes a moment to pause, push your hair back from your face. “Beautiful baby, taking my cock so well.” His thumb moves over your cheek. “You really are beautiful, you know that?”

You hum. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He gently rolls his hips back, then pushes back into you.

You moan. “Just like that, Jeongin, please.”

“Your wish is my command.”

He fucks you gently, showering you in sleepy kisses and muttered praises. It’s not long before you cum, and not long after that that Jeongin cums, too.

He pulls out of you, cum leaking onto the sheets.

“We’ll get it in the morning.” You wave your hand in dismissal.

“It is technically morning.” Jeongin reaches for his phone, squinting at the light. “It’s 3:27 AM.”

“We’ll get it when we wake up.” You correct yourself.

“Not so fast, baby, you’ve gotta clean up.” Jeongin kisses you.

“Ngh.” You roll facedown in the sheets. “I wanna go back to sleep, though.”

“C’mon, we can go to sleep right after, I promise. You can wear one of my shirts.”

You smile into your pillow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He ruffles his hand through your hair. “We can cuddle all night.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

You get out of bed and clean yourself up in the bathroom, blissed out from your orgasm and ready to go back to sleep with your boyfriend. Jeongin helps you into a soft T shirt when you come back out, then goes to clean himself up. You barely notice when the bed dips with his return, already near sleep. He curls around you, and you melt into him.

“Goodnight, sweet baby. I love you.” He whispers.

“G’night, love you too.” You’re out practically as soon as the words are.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Actually I might as well add onto my thoughts and opinions on what's going on with skk right now.

[ID: A screenshot from Bungou Stray Dogs Season 5 Episode 10. Dazai sits against the metal wall, holding his injured shoulder. His blood is spattered on the wall behind him. He looks up at Chuuya, who is standing before him with a gun to his head. End ID.]

I still think the drowning in 101 was a trap set by Dazai for Fyodor before he knew Chuuya would be there - it would be weird for him to sacrifice his partner and I see no reason he would flashback to some of their memories and have such a choked voice otherwise. Dazai is not like Mori. This has been long established since Dark Era - he is selfish, and thus bad at actually making the sacrifice play with someone he has an actual connection with. I think the trap was set, Dazai had no choice but to follow through, but hoped that Chuuya would break control and escape. He tries a speech which seems like it's going to be a very genuine farewell... only to switch tacks and play it off as though he doesn't care. I do think there was a possibility Chuuya could've died in that scene... but Dazai was deeply hoping he wouldn't.

Seems a silly thing, for Dazai to be relying on hope so much as a master strategist, but you have to remember that Dazai has a near unshakeable trust in Chuuya. He thinks very highly of him, and has a "Chuuya can push through anything" kind of mentality that he's had since they were teenagers. Of course Chuuya can break through the vampire brainwashing! He just needs the right impetus!

So we have Dazai do what he does best - try to piss off Chuuya. The "sorry there weren't any", the goading him into punching him - this is very typical behaviour for these two, and it might've actually worked if it weren't for Fyodor's intervention.

"Good-bye!" is probably a plan. It's the same name as one of Dazai-sensei's works (his last, unfinished work, in fact...), and we know Double Black's plans are named after the author's stories/poems. Note that it comes right after the first goading he does, when Chuuya is more likely to be agitated and thus aware. But also note that, if this is indeed a plan, then it's a little strange for it to be named after only Dazai's story, without incorporating Chuuya's. Their plans are named after combinations of their works' titles, remember? So, it can be reasonably assumed that this plan is solely Dazai's, that it's possible he came up with it on the fly, and that he is desperately trying to get Chuuya on board.

Unfortunately, the usual goading isn't working, so Dazai turns to something he only very rarely uses, and rarer still to Chuuya's face - and that is sincerity. He's trying to reach him, and I really think that's genuine. He's changing tactics, trying something else - because a) this plan won't work without Chuuya, and b) Chuuya is being mind controlled and you cannot convince me that Dazai isn't still royally pissed off about that. He needs to snap him out of it, now.

Even if this is a plan Dazai came up with on the fly, Chuuya will be able to catch on quickly and go along with it - but only if he is actually conscious enough to do so. Double Black's plans can only work when they are both on the same page, and right now - that's more than a little ambiguous. Dazai actually has no real way of knowing whether or not Chuuya heard him, or even if he did, if he is capable of acting on it - but Dazai's faith in Chuuya is so strong that he naturally assumes Chuuya can break through it. Having him shoot him like that came as a genuine shock.

Fyodor implicitly accuses Dazai of underestimating his partner... but I think it's the exact opposite. Dazai is so used to Chuuya being able to struggle through anything that for him apparently not to be able to in this situation is genuinely blindsiding.

It appears that Dazai, too, has been relying on Chuuya's strength.

Tldr: There is a plan, but it is solely Dazai's, not a typical joint skk plan and he has been trying to communicate it to Chuuya and break past the brainwashing - which means Dazai is actually being horribly genuine right now. Unfortunately... it doesn't seem like Chuuya is conscious enough to participate in this plan at the moment (though possibly conscious enough to, like Akutagawa, prevent himself from making a killing blow).

[ominoose]

𝐏𝐫𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧'𝐬

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x GN!Reader Summary: You make a smash or pass spreadsheet with friends, Nathan finds his part. Warnings: Reader made fun of slightly but turns out well in the end, its just silly :) WC: 836

It was a silly, fun little game. A night to let loose with friends, not hold back, no thinking or worries. Just a light-hearted tease. Simple.

It was not supposed to lead to Nathan Bateman storming up to you like a man on a mission, pupils blown wide in fury behind gold frame glasses. Ordinarily he wasn’t a man to be trifled with, even on his best days (as far and few between as they were), and everyone that worked under him, no matter how distant their role, knew to tread lightly.

Nathan was not treading lightly. The crinkle of paper clutched and creasing in his fist was all that accompanied the stomps of his boots on the carpet until silence reigned as he stopped in front of you, nostrils flaring.

“'Arrogant, rich asshole'?!” You’d never heard his voice so angry, so loud from the get go, and if your blood didn’t go cold at the quote you would have had the good sense to be more scared.

"‘Chewtoy biceps’, ‘Condescending in a sexy way’, Sexier Elon Musk!". It wasn’t looking good for you.

The group Google Doc wasn’t even your idea, listing the singles in your lives with the pro’s and con’s of sleeping with them in a “Smash or Pass” group call also wasn't your usual friend-groups past time, but you didn’t need much persuading to join. Nathans name being added to the pool hardly came as a surprise, but you boldly stamping Smash next to his name was.

It was a night of giggles and gasps, losing self respect in the name of forging deeper bonds, like girls at their first high school sleepover. It was not meant to get back to him.

“Mansplaining snob?!” The sharp words snap you back into reality from where you’d rabidly been trying to recall the words you typed that would now serve as your death sentence.

“I-”

“It’s not mansplaining when I have to dumb down simple fucking concepts for you to understand, sweetheart.” Despite the pet name, the way he waves the printed out screenshot in your face made it clear he’d kill you by death of one thousand cuts if he could.

How could you get out of this? You couldn’t, there was no way you’d come out of this with a job or reputation intact. It was a miracle he didn’t wait until you were in the middle of the office cubicles or a meeting to humiliate you. Then again the fact that he was furious enough to come straight to you with fire at his heels was equally terrifying.

“Wanna know what’d I’d say about you, hm?” His weight shifted on his feet, shoulders squared as he used every inch of his height to leer over you.

“I-I didn’t say this to your face!” A pitiful attempt at reasoning, as if the word mercy wasn’t something Nathan Bateman boxed for his morning work-out. Technically it was his own fault, he didn’t own Google, he shouldn’t be snooping in his workers private documents.

“Oh, okay then.” A higher pitch, raised eyebrows, the ghost of a smile. God, you were absolutely fucked.

And then he walked away. No stomping, no clenched first. It was the strut of Nathan that had just had a breakthrough.

This was off script.

The next few days were absolute hell. It was paranoia akin to living under witness protection after whistleblowing a major government conspiracy. Every email that came, every task assigned had you tensing and assuming this was it, this was the deathly blow.

Turns out the deathly blow was even less exciting than an email. It was an A4 piece of paper left on the centre of your desk, perfectly straight and ivory white.

‘Cons: -Overly sensitive -Acne marks -Didn't go to Harvard -Needs validation -Buys shitty clothes, probably from Temu’

Maybe being simply fired when he first confronted you would’ve been the easier option, that or death by the thousand cuts.

Nathan was never a man to mince his words, if you had a weak point he’d punch it and blame you for having it in the first place. You also knew you weren’t perfect, this was a job you’d clawed your way to, losing several nails in the process. Half your mental capacity was spent simply trying to keep above water, who could blame you for wanting a little ‘Well done, good job!’ every once in a while. Clearly, Nathan could.

The paper became blurry, hot tears trembled in your eyes, threatening to spill right in the middle of the office buzz. And how would you explain? Getting fired while having every flaw listed by your incredibly wealthy, accomplished, genius boss?

Blinking back the tears, there’s only half the letter left to read and getting it over with sooner was better than later.

‘Pros: -Funny -Can keep up -Nice ass -Annoying smile -Not materialistic -Honest’

There was only one word left at the bottom, one line above a phone number.

'Smash.'

[drowninginblox]

Online After Hours...

Pt: 1, 2

Kurt felt his phone buzz just a few minutes before his class. At the time, he didn't pay it any mind, Ororo just said she was covering Y/n's class and to not bother her until after 6. Fine by him. So he continued on with his day. He wasn't worried until Logan of all people texted him asking what was going on a few minutes before lunch. He assumed that lunch period would be the two of them hanging out, not Logan acting uncharacteristically nosey about his relationship with Y/n.

"Listen here bub- you were the last to talk to them, what's going on?" Kurt put his hands up. "I have no idea mein freund! They were fine until they weren't!" Logan just stared at him. "Kurt," Kurt raised a brow. Logan never used his real name unless he was pissed or it was serious. "When was the last time Y/n took a full sick day?"

Kurt's eyes widened a little before his brows furrowed. He leaned back in his seat as he tried to think of a time when that was the case. "They've taken sick days-" "Half days." someone corrected behind them. Logan smirked a little, Kurt looked up to see Scott looming over the conversation. "Y/n has never taken a full sick day. It's always been half days." Logan nods from Kurt's perifery. "Y/n insists they're fine until either class is up or we hassle them. Stubborn kid." Logan agrees. Kurt looks at him "Seit wann sind sie ein großer fan von ihr?" He mumbles. Logan scoffs, leaning onto the table as he does. "Do not change the subject. What did you do, furball?" Kurt glances up at Scott for any defense but he's crossing his arms, presumably waiting for an answer for himself. He glances between the two before sighing. "I-I don't know." He admits. "We were just joking like usual and... the next thing I know they're telling me they feel sick. I asked them if I'd done something wrong but they said it wasn't me. Ich weiß es nicht. I honestly have no idea." Scott sighs from above. "What were you two joking about?"

Kurt looks at him, confused. "What- nothing?" Scott leans down on Kurt's chair, holding onto the back of it for support. "Kurt." Kurt glances at Logan, who looks moments away from showing his claws. "Okay okay! Honestly, it was nothing too serious!" He takes out his phone and pulls up a screenshot of the original post. "I learned recently about the amount of fans I had-" Logan groans. "And I look through them to see how crazy they can get. It's funny sometimes, how diluted they are. I pray for them." Scott holds the bridge of his nose. "Are you serious?" Scott of all people growls. Logan crosses his arms and leans back into his chair only to take out a cigar when he sees Kurt try to defend himself. "Me and y/n laugh about them all the time. It's only the really crazy ones! Like the ones that think they genuinely have a chance and know me!" Scott takes out his hand. "Show me." Kurt raises a brow. "Are you sure? This one-" "Give it." He growls. Kurt hands it over and raises his hands in defeat. "Okay okay- don't tell me I didn't warn you."

Scott glosses through it. Although the glasses obscure his eyes, the fact that he leans into the screen is enough of a tell. "Oh... Kurt." He looks at him, his mouth slightly open. Logan perks. "What is it?" Scott glances between Kurt and Logan before tossing the phone to Logan. In a stroke of divine intervention, Kurt isn't fast enough to intercept. Logan catches it and reads. He furrows his brows. "Is this?" Scott stares at him, nodding ever so slightly. Logan smiles cockily at Kurt in between drags from his cigar. "You are so fucked." Kurt looks between the both of them, more confused than before. "What? What is it?" Logan slides the phone across the table. Scott looks at Logan knowingly. "Jean wants to talk to us after dinner." Logan's brows shoot up "'Bout-" Scott smirks "Yes."

Logan slowly smiles before looking back at Kurt. "Good luck furball," He says while getting up. Scot clasps Kurt's shoulder, making him jump in his chair. "You're gonna need it." Scott finished. The pair walk out of the teacher's lounge together, the impending scolding of Logan's smoking habits echoing through the halls while Kurt is left in the dust of what they might have meant. He looks back at the picture, staring at it for a moment before noticing the username. It seems familiar... somehow. "Kurt!" Someone shouts from down the hall making him jump in his seat for the second time today. He turns to see his sister Rouge. "The hell did you do to my girl?"

If he could pale- Kurt would. "Marie- I can explain-" But she was already rearing for a fight. She lurches at Kurt, who immediately teleports to a portion of the ceiling. "Hör zu, Marie! Listen! I can explain-!" He damn near begs, shaking when he sees the rage burning in her eyes."Get your furry ass down here and get your lumps!" He squeaks and teleports out of fear into the hall. "KURTIS!!!" Rouge wails from somewhere else in the mansion, far enough away where Kurt can breathe though. Breathe and think. He takes out his phone and starts to walk. Where? Anywhere.

As he walks he looks over the screenshot. He's read this thing multiple times. What is so special about it? He groans, closing his eyes and racking his brain as to how this might have upset Y/n. It's not like it's th-

He opens his eyes, looking back at the screenshot. It can't be them- "Oi! Furball!" He turns to see Gambit striding down the hall, cards in hand. Kurt makes a noise somewhere between fear and screwed. "Oh ChER!" Gambit calls loud enough for Rouge to hear as he throws a card Kurt's way. Kurt manages to dodge just moments before it explodes mid-air, the impact sending him to the floor. "Remi- I know you two might as well be brother and sister but-" Gambit throws three more cards his way. "Sit your ass down, mon ami." Kurt bmft's further down the hall only to hear the battle cry of a pissed-off best friend. "KURTIS!" Kurt turns to see Rouge flying around the corner. With nowhere else to go, he bmft's to his room, praying no one breaks down the door after he locks it and puts a chair in front of it.

Once he feels he is... oh who is he kidding he won't be safe from his sister's wrath. He only sighs, holding his hands to his head as he paces. Thoughts race through his head. It can't be them, it just can't be. If it were them.... he..

He slumps as the implication and the following realization hits him. His phone buzzes with enraged messages from half the team but all he can do is pull up that damn screenshot. He reads through it again, and again, and again. Just like that night.

When he found the post, he was scrolling through Tumblr. He told you that he was looking at the weirdos- at one point it was. But as he lingered on the shitty site night after night, he found himself fascinated with the absolute creatures that inhabit this hellscape. The fantastic artists, the writers that genuinely do have talent but somehow dedicate it to Wolverine and him kissing for some reason, the inside jokes, the history, the seemingly daily celebrations of the weirdest and most beautiful things this world has to offer- it's wonderful. Scary, but wonderful! In a way, he made it his main social media. Reblogging, liking, laughing, and learning about all the things these people think in the dead of night while his laptop died.

When he saw the post, he was looking through the Nightcrawler tag. Not to make fun of anyone. He's honestly desensitized to the amount of ways people wished he would use his tail. He was looking for a confidence boost. TikTok had thurst traps, Instagram had art, and BlueSky was mostly Portugees- but Tumblr- Tumblr had genuine flattery in the form of fanfiction, absentminded thoughts, well-thought art, and active conversation in notes...

Horniess aside- it was nice on days when he lingered in the mirror, contemplating his singularity.

When he found your post, he thought it was touching. As touching as a fan could be to a celebrity of course.

In the way, it was realistic but endearing. The writer knew they didn't have a chance with him, which was nice. Anytime he saw someone seriously understand that; he gave them kudos. But the more he read the more he felt... understood? Like- he's not the kind to lead someone on out of desperation for a partner, he's not cruel. But at the same time, the wholesome thoughts that this person held toward him were... nice. Romantic even. These thoughts that he himself considered whenever he thought about what he would look like if he passed as human... Thoughts of what it would be like to be like anyone else. To be unabashedly kissed, to hold hands without worrying about the 3 to 5 ratio of fingers, to dance with anyone without the pretense of them being understanding of him sticking out like a sore thumb. He read it. Multiple times.

In a way, it gave him hope that someone like this... someone who wished for things like this without the pretense of idolization, was real. Was obtainable. He thought about printing it out, but the printer was a public thing. He would rather die than chance someone see it. He thought about following. He thought about DMing the person behind this- posing as a fan. But he always talked himself out of it. If that person even had an inkling that it was him- It would be over. So... he just screenshot, favorited the photo, and just... looked at it whenever he felt alone.

When he showed it to you, it was because he saw you change. Not for the bad- you were amazing! You glowed or something. It was like you were given the meaning of life or you figured out the cure for cancer- you were so happy. Confident. Everyone could see and everyone loved it. He just wanted a reason to joke with you and... the post was a little cheesy so...

But now, in his room. Alone, afraid, and absolutely ashamed... all he wanted to do was take it all back. If he knew you felt this way... "Was habe ich getan?"

The gravity of the situation made him curl to the floor, the cold floor was what he deserved. He wrapped his arms around his folded legs and hid in his knees. His tail curled instinctively around himself, looping up his ankle. He wanted to yell, scream, beg, but he didn't deserve that. So instead, he wept. Not for him, he doesn't deserve that either

. But for you. You- the one person other than Rouge, he felt comfortable enough with to hold him. When he felt ugly or lost, it was you who swooped down like an angel- assuring him that he was beautiful and amazing. You- who aided and covered for him every time he was overwhelmed with work after missions. You- who by all means deserves love- set him up with people you felt would mesh with him. When you were right there- waiting in the wings. "Ich bin so dumm… Gott… erschlag mich für meine Sünde gegen sie, bitte. Bitte… Bitte, Gott… Ich bin nur ein dummer Kobold. Sie sind ein Engel und doch lieben sie mich… und ich habe alles weggeworfen, ohne es zu wissen…" he weeped.

A hand clasped at the crucifix around his neck.

"Himmlischer Vater, gib mir die Kraft, alle meine Fehler zu korrigieren. Und lass mich Buße tun, um meine Sünden gegen sie wiedergutzumachen." He looked up to the open air. "Gott, ich weiß, ich verdiene sie nicht, aber bitte nimm mir diesen Engel nicht weg. Du weißt, dass ich fromm bin. Du weißt, ich lebe für dich, aber Gott… ich lebe auch für sie. Ich liebe sie mehr als Eva den Apfel. Ich liebe sie wie die Sterne am Himmel… Ich liebe sie mehr als… nein…" He closes his eyes. "She cant love me after this..." He lays his head back on the floor while the pool of his tears grew.

If only he knew you heard his prayers.

[the-thing-of-worms]

EVERYONE SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!!

Check this out this is the greatest entertainment in history

So, here's how it started:

This anon sent me an ask telling me my good friend @annotated-catastrophe was homophobic and racist, and that I should block her. You can see how I responded, wanting proof. This is the next ask I get:

These are some pretty bold claims you know! I asked for proof in DMs, and, excitingly enough, they came into my DMs with a burner account!!

I don't have many screenshots for this next parts, but me and @/redracecars start talking. They're still making a ton of really bold claims, saying Catastrophe is homophobic and "doesn't care about mental illnesses" but this really isn't enough to alter my opinion, kids, never believe someone you don't know just off of their word, even someone you do know shouldn't be trusted just off their word, that's why I asked dear redracecars to provide me evidence! A screenshot of a conversation, it's all I needed really, I even told them I would post the screenshot to show all my friends, and I'm sticking true to my word! I hope you see this from your main redracecar, I'm keeping my word.

Here's what they sent me after about 30 (?) minutes of waiting.

Annotated Catastrophe, under the side blog "Blueracecars" (where have we heard that name before??? 🤔🤔🤔) sent a ton of messages to our poor Redracecars.

One issue though, these were sent TODAY October 24th, 2024. AND WAIT- GASP - THESE MESSAGES WERE SENT AFTER I RECIEVED THE SECOND OF THE TWO ASKS??? SAY WHAT?? HAS ANNOTATED CATASTROPHE FINALLY MASTERED TIME TRAVEL?? ARE WE DOOMED WITH THE DREADED ANNOTATED CATASTROPHE AS OUR IMMORTAL TIME LORD??

Oh, wait,

Redracecars? Buddy? Did you not see that your messages with Blueracecars were timed to today, after when you first sent me an ask? Are you.... GASP??? A FAKER??? NO IT COULDNT BE!! REDRACECARS HOW COULD YOU!!! *Sobs and faints like a Victorian*

Hold on, hold on, let me see what blue race cars has on their blog, knowing Annotated catastrophe as I do she'll definitely have a lot of writing posts on this side blog... Huh... Wait

THESE ARE THE ONLY TWO POSTS ON THE BLOG? ANNOTATED CATASTROPHE WOULD NEVER! AND WAIT- SHE'D NEVER TALK WITH CURSE WORDS, SHE HATES SWEARING!! Redracecars you didn't even do a good job of disguising yourself! This is awful buddy, real embarrassing too, it really is .... It really sucks though because I started to realize what you were doing, trying to make a transgender person believe that one of their friends is a terf, trying to convince me she's racist, homophobic, transphobic.... Buddy are YOU a transphobe?? You blocked me before I could ask this but, Why are you so dead set on convincing me, a trans man, that my friend secretly hates me?? That's incredibly mean of you. The only thing in your heart, redracecars (or should I say purpleracecars since your red AND blue?) is malice. You only want to make people unhappy, is it because you're unhappy buddy? I'm sorry if that's the case but leave other people out of it, go touch grass, or better yet, go talk to a therapist about whatever you got going on. Your behavior IS NOT NORMAL!!!

And rest assured I'm sending this to my mutuals so they all know that there's some troll running about and trying to hurt people, because that's what you're doing, you're hurting people and I just KNOW you live for it. Go get a better life bro.

[henneseyhoe]

My Big Three As Boyfriends|

Trevante♡

You wanna have the perfect balance of a country boy and a city boy rolled into one? He’s the man for you!

His love feels like coming into a warm house after shoveling snow.

The first time you two ever kissed, my lady by Tyrese played in the background and since then ‘my lady’ with a brown heart has been your contact name.

He’ll sing any song you ask him to even though his ass can barely hold a tune in all seriousness.

Uncovering your ears, you start laughing. “Yes, sounds just like how Tyrese sung it” He smiles and takes a bow.

You try not to be the clingiest since he loves his space sometimes, but he definitely has his moments where he needs you near him like some kind of support teddy.

Hates when you all up on him when it’s time to sleep but always ends up damn near on top of you by the morning.

“Move, Bae, it’s hot” he groans. 8 hours later. “Tre…Trevante…baby, you crushin’ me!” You huff, trying to push his arm and leg off of you so you could go pee.

He’ll blame you as if your little ass can move him from one side of the bed to the other.

Expect booty slaps every time you walk by, and don’t let him be upset with you prior, cause it’ll be harder this time.

“Tight ass shorts” he’d say as you walked around the house as free as you wanted in the Nike shorts HE bought you.

Often play fighting and roughhousing until he accidentally hits you too hard and has to be soft with you for the rest of the day.

“Awwnnn, cmere, I didn’t think it was gonna land that hard” he holds you as you pout, rubbing your now sore arm. “That actually hurt, Tre. Like seriously 🥺”

He makes fun of the Erotic books you read, but you caught him peaking over your shoulder once and following along with one of your favorite stories.

“Don’t get too hype, I peeped something and the shit was interesting!”

Has a habit of putting his hand up your shirt when you two are cuddling.

He hates when you leave for work because he works mornings and you work nights. Sometimes on his day offs(though a bad idea) he’d stay up at night and bother you on the phone all throughout your work, dropping hints that you needed to come home on your snack break for a real meal.

-you’d brush him off and sneak off to the bathroom, sending him a titty pic to hold him off till you got home.

-‘oh wow. I just might take a trip instead actually’

-He’s definitely already taken trips up there a few times to get you right, as he should.

Michael♡

A REAL certified loverboy

If you told him to jump, he’d ask how high.

He would never admit it but he is CLINGY. He wants to be with you and all up under you as soon as those paparazzi cameras turn off.

Also certified double texter.

‘babe’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘babe’

‘don’t act like you don’t see these texts’

‘WHAT boy’

‘I miss you’ ‘wyd my love’

‘working. Something you should be busy doin’

‘I finished already’

‘Fast reader you are. Here’s a gold star⭐️’

‘What can I say? You’re engaged to a smart man’

‘Engaged?’

Boo🩷 has unsent a message.

‘Forget you read that till further notice’

The man can’t hold water, as you can see. Which is why you don’t tell him anything that’s meant to be a secret.

He literally can’t sleep without your leg thrown over him some kind of way.

He remembers all the cute little shit you like year around so he already has a laid out plan of gifts for Birthdays, Valentines, and Christmas.

A good bit of his camera roll is just you and screenshots of things he wants to keep tabs of.

Can’t organize for shit and that’s exactly why his phone storage is about to explode

Begged you to organize his work stuff, so you agreed, until you saw NOTHING was put where it’s supposed to go.

“how do you work like this?!”

“I honestly don’t know…I- I do not know” he responds, staring at the unorganized files.

“Your assistant doesn’t take care of this stuff?”

“I don’t like to bother her like that”

“Nigga, she’s an assistant, she’s supposed to be bothered!”

Thursdays were self care days for you two. Wether you were just sitting around and watching a movie or doing actual things to improve the body, it was still self care to y’all.

Both of you are foodies, but he’s more adventurous, so he always tries to get you to try new foods when out together.

“would you ever try live squid?” He asks, looking through the menu the restaurant provided for them. “Uhh..I dunno. I don’t think I’d like it, but I’d probably try. Just have to ignore the memory of that story of that man who ate a live squid and it killed him and crawled back up his throat” he stares at you for a moment then looks back down at his menu. “Never mind then…”

Soooo protective of you and thinks you don’t stand up for yourself enough so he always makes sure you’re heard in any and all conversations.

Takes any chance to show you off. Was it cause he genuinely loved you or was it cause he liked showing niggas what they’ll never have? Both actually.

“Oh, and y’all know my girl, right? My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend” he grabs you by the hand, and kisses the top of it, pulling your attention away from your drink. You smile and look away, feeling extra appreciated.

Gentlemen in the streets, freak nasty in the sheets.

You ever came so hard that it took a few seconds for your vision to come back? Yeah.

Yahya♡

The dynamic between the both of you is just very unserious. He is truly your bestfriend who also happens to be your boyfriend

It’s hard to get anything done when the both of you are constantly cracking jokes back and forth, a con of having the same job.

“Yahya, please, my stomach hurts!” you spoke in between laughs, tears prickling the both of y’all’s eyes as you tried to make it through a SINGULAR business email. “How the fuck do you misspell so much shit on a business email?!” He howled, wiping tears from his face and slouching in his seat, you still crying.

He blames you for when he doesn’t get much work done, but he knows damn well it’s his fault for being the goofy mf he is.

When you two were just friends, your mutual friends would tease him by calling him “boy Y/N” because you both had so much in common.

He’s your reminder to eat like a normal person

“What’d you eat today?” Yahya questions, reading over his weekly to-do list. You glare at him then look back at your computer, not answering because you didn’t wanna hear his mouth about you forgetting to eat. Sighing, he gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you something quick.

At first the relationship felt like you two were still just friends, but you both grew into being a little more intimate with each other.

You both can’t help but create small(but healthy) competitions. You were both a little more competitive than you’d like to admit, but you both had competitions so often that basically everyone you guys hung out with knew of them.

“Damn” You sigh as you watched your paper ball miss the trash basket. “Hm” Yahya hums and gets up, picking the paper ball up. Instead of throwing it away right then, he went back to his seat that was a bit farther back and took a shot, the paper effortlessly making it in the basket. You look back at him with a squint and he smirks. “Okay, bet” you whisper.

Ten minutes had gone by and you both were throwing balled up paper that you needed in the trash. To make what point? Neither of you knew, but you both were entertained.

Theres a box in his closet with Polaroid pictures of you two throughout the five years of dating each other, most taken by Yahya himself because in his words, “I just love looking at you. Pictures don’t even capture all that I see, but damn, baby”

The man could easily make you melt like some chocolate. He was just as smooth as he was when you first met him.

Once you both got more into the relationship, he was honestly the most romantic and caring person ever. He’d do anything to make you feel those butterflies.

Sent you on a corny little riddle game for Valentine’s Day once which lead you to some of your favorite places around the city until the last clue brought you home to three bouquets of your favorite flowers and a ring the size of your brown eyes.

Alexa, play whatever you want by Tony! Toni! Toné!

Some niggas don’t trick, but Yahya? Oh he’s gonna step. In the end, if you’re happy, he’s happy.

The night ended with something else a little more eventful that had the neighbors thinking to call the cops for the third time that month.

He plans on staying with you for the rest of his life, and made that know.

And he’s determined to put a baby in you one of these days, with or without that damn ring.

✮✮✮✮

Looks and bias aside, who would y’all pick as a boyfriend? 🫣 I think I’d pick Yahya 😭

[irrealisms]

diptych || a c!crimeboys web weave

[sources and IDs under cut]

The first collage is a collection of 14 images.

Image 1: A human hands a raccoon a gun. It is the same image CC!Wilbur sent CC!Tommy with the caption "Me passing the dirty crime boy title to you."

Image 2: Question 4 of 15 Do you love your brother? Answers, please choose 1

Image 3: WILBUR: This isn't just a silly river delta to me anymore, it's got a name, it's got a story, it's— it's L’Manberg, and it's … to me it's, it's you.

Image 4: A painting of Cain and Abel. Cain holds a club in one hand and Abel's wrist in the other as they walk forward. While it is in the background and mostly covered by the other images, their faces and hands are visible.

Image 5: Question 5 of 15 Liar. You feel guilty, don't you? Answers, please choose 1

Image 6: A screenshot from The Fall by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder and is leaning forward to speak to him. Tommy looks anxious.

Image 7: "Am I my brother's keeper?"

Image 8: A piece of paper pinned to the wall, reading "Someone is looking up to you. Don't let that person down." In the context of the collage, it is pinned onto Wilbur's sleeve/upper arm from the SAD-ist screenshot.

Image 9: Question 6 of 15 But you're the one that left him. Answers, please choose 1 [check mark next to the selected answer] I wanted to and I wanted it to hurt him so he could let go of me.

Image 10: WILBUR: I’m glad, Tommy! You know what, I’m glad! Because me and you were never good for that server. We just weren’t!

Image 11: When I close my eyes I'm climbing in the dark Trying not to fall apart Sometimes I get so high Falling is the only out I see And I don't wanna take you down with me

Image 12: a softer world comic. the text reads "At my worst, I worry you'll realize/you deserve better./At my best, I worry you won't."

Image 13: Question 7 of 15 Do you think your brother loves you? Answers, please choose 1

Image 14: WILBUR: Tommy, come over here, please, I— Tommy, I was scared I wouldn’t see you again if you didn’t forgive me. And I didn’t want to not see you again.

The second image is a collage of 11 images.

Image 1: WILBUR: You love it, don’t you, Tommy? You love… L’Manberg…

Image 2: a softer sea comic. the text reads "You're my brother and I love you./That's it./No punchline."

Image 3: A painting of two men standing next to each other. they look similar. the one on the right puts his hand flat above both of their heads, sheltering them; the one on the left has his hand up to touch the hand of the one on the right. the painting is titled My Brother's Keeper.

Image 4: I will stand in the dark for you I will hold you back by force I will stand here right outside your door I won’t see you disgraced I will protect your name and your heart Because I miss my friend

Image 5: A screenshot from Final Waltz by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy looks up at him.

Image 6: In essence, the entire Bible is written as an affirmative response to this question.

Image 7: TOMMY: I believe that everyone’s got a little bit of good in them. And I know that Wilbur had good in him. Alright?

Image 8: This is no garden. This is my brother and I need a shovel to love him.

Image 9: A collage of an open book with forests, butterflies, etc. the text reads: i care for you still and i will forever.

Image 10: A painting of two young boys wading in the ocean and holding hands. The smaller one has spiderman swim trunks.

Image 11: TOMMY: It’s not about chances, Foolish. It’s about making sure you don’t give up on the people you care about.