#I LOVE THAT RED MAKES RASH DECISIONS

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff (smut in the next part)

part 1

It's been three days since the unfortunate misunderstanding with Charles and you haven't heard from him at all since.

You were overthinking the whole situation that happened on Sunday and couldn't come to any proper conclusion. At the same time, you were sad because he thought you would bring someone else into your bed, even though it wasn't your shared bed anymore, but you couldn't believe that he thought so little of you after all the years you'd spent together.

And yet on the other hand, you were thinking like any woman, you were glad that he was jealous and that the very thought of someone replacing him bothered him because that only meant he wasn't over you and that he still wanted to make things right between you two. Basically, you were torn between your brain and your heart once again and it was just a matter of what would prevail between the two this time.

Even though deep down you knew you couldn't fight yourself. You broke up over some disagreements that when you look at things more closely weren't worth destroying your relationship and your little family. You were both stubborn, he was a little too possessive, you were lacking in understanding, parenting, you spent most of your time alone with Lou and everything came together and exploded.

Now that you look back on the whole year you spent without him, you know that as hard as it is sometimes to be with him, it's ten times harder to be without him. You realize that you both made a rash decision, but then again maybe it had to happen only to make you realize how much you need each other in every way possible.

It's Wednesday night and while you're preparing tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch, Lou is sitting at the dining room table drawing. Soon your cooking is interrupted by the ringing of your phone on the kitchen island. A strange feeling comes over you as you wipe your hands on a dish towel and look at your phone only to see Charles' name on the screen.

You want to answer the phone, but you don't want the conversation to end in an argument so before you pick up the phone, you take a deep breath and try to calm down and strengthen your voice so it doesn't sound shaky.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." He says it in a completely normal, calm tone and you're grateful for that.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Umm, I'm leaving tomorrow for the race so I was wondering if you could put Lou on the facetime so I can see her since I won't be able to have her for the weekend?" He asks.

"Sure, just let me switch to facetime."

Once you did, Charles face appeared on the screen and he smiled when he saw yours too. You tried to hide the blush on your face and quickly walked over to Lou putting the phone in front of her.

"Baby, daddy wants to talk to you" You said setting the phone in front of her and leaving them alone to talk.

Since the kitchen and dining room were connected, you went back into the kitchen and could hear everything the two of them were saying. You didn't want to eavesdrop, but you kinda did.

"Hey, daddy!" Lou exclaimed excitedly.

"Mon ange, what are you doing?"

"I'm drawing and-and mommy is cooking" She says.

"Yeah? What are you drawing?"

"I'm drawing you in a red car. See" She says putting up the paper in front of the camera for him to see.

"Good job, baby. It looks great!"

"It's for you, I will give it to you when you come get me" She says forgetting that she won't be spending the weekend with him.

"Thank you, baby, but unfortunately we won't be together this weekend because papa has to work, but we'll see each other next week, okay?"

"Oh.." She pouts.

"Don't be sad, we'll see each other very soon, okay? I miss you so much and I'm thinking of you all the time."

Your heart is completely softened by his words and the immeasurable amount of love he has for your daughter.

"I miss you too, daddy"

"Okay, baby. I'll talk to you soon, I love you."

"Bye, I love you too." She says waving her hand as he blows her a kiss.

You watch her from afar and see how her mood immediately changed when she heard that she wouldn't be seeing him. Shaken by emotions, you move closer to her and squat down next to her.

"What's wrong, bug?" You ask her.

She doesn't look at you but frowns looking down at drawing on the paper in front of her.

"I miss papa" She says, hear eyes filled with tears.

"Can I tell you a little secret?" You say and she nods. "I miss papa too." You whisper making her look at you.

"Would you like to watch him race this weekend?"

"You mean on the TV?" She asks.

"No, I mean how about we go and see him?" You suggest and her eyes light up.

"Really?!"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes! And I can give him this!" She says excitedly and you chuckle at how sweet she is.

"Then we have a deal. Now, finish up your drawing and go wash your hands because dinner is almost ready okay?"

"Okay, mommy. Thank you"

Nothing can compare to the happiness you feel when you see your daughter happy. Both you and Charles would do anything for her, and that's why you decided to quickly run upstairs to your bedroom, turn the hoodie right side out.

When a print of an F1 car was visible on the black hoodie, you took a picture of it and sent it to Charles without any additional explanation, because you knew that everything would be clear as a day to him once he saw it.

After just a few minutes, your phone vibrated in your hands.

'Been looking for it for a while now..' Charles' message said.

'I really fucked up this time, didn't I?' He added.

'You kinda did.' You replied.

'I'm so sorry, y/n..'

'You're lucky your daughter adores you so much and you better send a plane for the two of us so we can make it to the race on time.'

part 3

@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

[insertfunkyusernamehere]

vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]

-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-

(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)

word count: 887

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????

god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh

you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.

you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.

you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.

you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.

you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.

"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."

you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!

you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.

"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."

you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.

as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.

it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.

you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.

"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.

was it his fault that he trusted you?

he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.

you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.

your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.

he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.

his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.

he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.

you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.

he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.

he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.

however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.

you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?

he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.

vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.

"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.

vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.

you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.

hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!

thank you for reading!

-leo :3

[glorismorningstar]

IMAGINE: YOU'RE LATE TO THE VEES' HEADQUARTERS ON EXTERMINATION DAY

"Four calls," VELVETTE said as she paced around the living room, running a hand through her hair as she tried to keep herself in check. She had given you a strict schedule to adhere to for today, and the worse has happened. You're late. "Four fucking calls and she hasn't picked up. Where the fuck is she?"

"Y/N's a big girl, Velvette. She's ten minutes late, it's not the end of the world." Vox thought he was doing good, but it only made her more agitated.

She turned on her heels to face Vox, hands firmly on her hips in an attempt to calm herself. "What the actual fuck are you saying? Do you know what time it is?! We have exactly one minute before the angels get here, and I swear to God that if she's not in here by then, I'll go out there and fetch her myself!"

"Before you make any rash decisions-" he couldn't even finish the sentence before the cries of terrified sinners and demons reached their ears. Velvette jogged to the clear window and smushed her face against the glass to look for you in the midst of the chaos.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She gritted in frustration as she felt her breath shudder and stutter, eyes desperately scouring the streets for any sign of you.

Her phone rang and she scrambled to pick up the call, relieved to read your name on the screen. "Where the fuck are you?!"

"Velvette, I'm- ah!" You yelped as you dodged an angel, running through the crowd to blend in and hide. You could see the Headquarters from where you stood. "I'm almost there!"

"Tell me where you are right now!" She demanded, her thick accented voice didn't leave any room for argument or mirth in such a situation. If something were to happen to you, she didn't know what she'd do.

"I'm in the crowd!" You spoke loudly to make sure she heard you through the phone in the middle of all the chaos.

Velvette ran over to the stairs and walked down as fast as possible, hoping to find you and drag you to safety. You could hear her yelling for Vox to find you with his cameras and her frantic stomps down God knows how many flights of stairs.

"Y/N?" She called out, standing on her tip toes to spot you.

You could see her standing behind the glass door, panicky red eyes combing through the giant hoard of sinners running for their lives. She hung up the phone and walked into the crowd, looking for you.

Your heart almost stopped beating when your eyes caught the blue, pink and white flash of her hair. It was dangerous, what the hell was she doing? "Velvette!"

You squeezed through the stampeding sinners and took hold of her hand. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be inside!"

"So should you!" She retorted, leading you back to the building. The way she grasped your hand like a lifeline, posture so tense and eyes wide with alarm as she pulled you to the Headquarters made you feel that she loved you more than she let on.

She tripped on a pebble and dropped to the ground, which made you instinctively shield her from the exorcists with your body. Heaven would never murder one of the Vees and you knew, but with the way the sinner were stepping over you, you couldn't have her getting hurt, especially with how her small stature made her susceptible to trampling. She had also given you clothes that she designed herself with her signature style, yet another of her favourite ways of marking you as hers, so that the angels would see you're with her.

In a moment of bravery, you picked her tiny body up in your arms and rushed towards the door of the Headquarters.

Velvette gasped as you slammed the door open and shut it tightly, pressing your back flush against the cold glass with a sigh of relief. You dropped to your knees in exhaustion and she soon follows, hands flying to cup your cheeks. "Darling, are you alright? Did they get you? Are you hurt? Are yo-"

"My love," you interrupted her rambling, resting a hand on top of hers. "I'm okay. I promise."

She sighed and pulled you into her arms, burying her face in your neck. "Don't do that ever again. You scared the shit out of me."

You press a soft kiss to the top of her head, carding your fingers through her tricolour hair. The pads of your fingers rubbed on her scalp, trying to ground her to reality. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't be late next time."

She smiled and rested her forehead on yours, then planted a kiss on your lips out of relief. She had no idea what she would have done with herself if the exorcists had gotten to you first. She pushed such thoughts away and hugged you tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

NINE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: I have STILL not seen the movie because it hasn't premiered here yet!

“I just think about him a lot. I'm sorry, I don't have the right to do that; I haven't even met him; I just believe I would have really liked him…”

I sat opposite Lotti by her little table with Eric's photo albums in front of us. Sneakily, I had put back the photos I've stolen because I didn't need them anymore.

I shouldn't have been there; I was lying to her in the most awful way, but I also went behind Eric's back to find out things he didn't want to tell me. I had the answers right there, and my curiosity took over.

“You know, I think he would have liked you too. You have a curiosity he would have liked. You feel comfortable with yourself, but with optimism and creativity. He would have liked that,” Lotti said with a smile. She had a good day today and talked about Eric with a smile. I smiled back at her by her words, but the warmth in my chest was from the memory of hearing Eric say “I love you” to me. He had said it that morning on the phone. I would go to him later that night; he worked late that Saturday, so I didn't have a reason to go to him that early, but I had a key to his apartment, so I didn't need to wait for him.

“Can't you tell me more about him? Why do you think he started to take drugs?”

Lotti looked out through the window and smiled sadly. It felt like she had a need to talk about everything, and I was right; my simple question made her tell me stories I never thought I would hear.

×××

Lotti looked at the little boy in the playroom, through the plexiglas. He wore a striped long-sleeved shirt in green shades and red sweatpants. The clothes were a bit big and looked well-used, probably from other kids social services had rescued from dysfunctional homes. He was two years old but lacked the chubby cheeks other two-year-olds would have but also was disinterested in the toys surrounding him. A white rabbit stuffy lay just in front of him, but he didn't give it a look; he just looked around. A young social worker sat by his side and looked at him with wonder. He looked like a doll with his big green eyes, and he sat just as still with his small hands resting on his thighs.

“He can't stand up yet or crawl, so that's probably why he doesn't play,” said the social worker next to Lotti and her husband Eric. They nodded a little even if something else felt wrong.

“Why can't he do that? Does he have a disability?” Eric asked the social worker and looked at baby Eric again. He hadn't moved an inch.

“No, no. He's healthy. Just a little underweight and some rashes. Ehm… We believe he hasn't left the crib very often. Most of his time had probably been spent alone in the bed-”

“What? Has his mother left him in the crib?” Lotti looked between the social worker and the boy, upset.

"Yes, but that is nothing that will shape him. He's so young, so that's nothing you’ll need to worry about.”

The social worker said it with assurance, even if there wasn't any research on the subject in the 90s.

Lotti nodded but felt a lump in her throat.

"His mother is sentenced to six months in prison for drug trafficking, but we believe she needs help with the boy after that too. She must make changes to be able to get him back.”

Lotti was sure. She didn't need to know any more. She wouldn't leave that boy to his destiny. They had room for one more child in their home, and Eric, her husband, earned enough money as a seller in the technology field. It was a business growing every day, and his salary went up with it. He looked at Lotti with a calming smile. He knew his wife had already made a decision, and he felt the same. They could give the boy the security he never had. He looked at the papers, seeing the boy’s name, the surname they shared. It felt like a sign. He wasn't the religious type, but Eric was a family name, a name passed on with love and respect.

The social secretary opened the door to the room baby Eric was in, and the married couple saw him look towards it with a fast movement. They walked in slowly to him, afraid that their presence would scare him, but he sat the same way and looked at them with big eyes. Carefully, Eric lifted up the boy in his arms, and Lotti moved close to them. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking at them. He looked sad but with a calm curiosity.

“Hey Eric, hey sweetie…” said Lotti. He looked at her the same way, but his eyes gave away so many emotions. Lotti dragged a finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear. For her, it was impossible to think that the boy's mom didn't want to take care of him; he had an aura—a much stronger aura than other kids his age had. It was just something with him. Lotti looked at her husband, who had pulled the boy closer to his chest. Both could feel it in their bones, and they could see in the other's eyes they felt the same thing. This boy was theirs. This boy was theirs, and they would do everything in their power for him to only be theirs and save him from his mother and all the darkness.

×××

Little Eric stood on a chair by the sink next to Lotti. He was quite short for his four years but had a personality bigger than other boys his age, and so lovable Lotti could see how others envied her. He stood and washed the dishes with her and laughed while playing with the bubbles. He always wanted to be close to them, always wanting to help.

“You're so good at this, Eric!” Said Lotti with a laugh when he gave her a completely clean glass. Eric laughed again so she could see the deep dimple in his cheek. She kissed it hard and dragged her fingers through his messy hair. In just a few hours, he would go to his biological mother and then come back to them as a shell again. He never told them what happened at his mother's, and that was what made it harder for them to do something. There was no proof the bruises on his little body were from something else than rough playing, but Lotti knew her boy so well, his games well, and it wasn't bruises from the playground.

Lotti woke up from her thoughts when she heard her other son in the living room. He was playing video games and made sound effects for the game. Eric looked towards the living room, and when Lotti did it too, he waved with his little hand, showing that he wanted them to look at what Robin was doing. He always wanted skin-to-skin contact, so Lotti pulled him up on her hip and carried him out to the living room. Robin gave them a bit of an irritated look but wiped it away when his mom dragged her fingers through his hair.

“Are you winning?”

“Yes!” He screamed proudly, and Lotti giggled at him. She looked at Eric, who didn't seem to find the game amusing, and instead looked out from the living room's big window.

“It's sunny…” he said with a small voice. Lotti often got the feeling he didn't dare to use his full voice, and he almost whispered when he talked.

“Do you want to go out? Should we go out and draw a little?”

Eric nodded and dragged his hand over her neck. He was soon five years old but felt both younger and older at the same time.

They moved out to the back of the house, in the early spring sun. She could see Robin through the window and, at the same time, make the last few hours of Eric's time there the best she could. He sat in her lap, drawing whales and colorful birds. He was great at it and could disappear into it completely, but not today. She knew he knew what would happen soon. How they would put him in the car and drive him to the social service office, where his biological mom would get him. She knew he would cry in panic and how the social worker would need to pull him away from her neck. She knew Linda would look smug when she left with their son, not because he wanted her more, just that she was his mom, whatever they said. She didn't need Eric's love; she just wanted to win.

Lotti knew she would cry the rest of the day and think about what Eric did at his mom's place. She wondered in what state he would come home in. Eric hugged her hand hard in his and looked up at her with his big soulful eyes. They were shining with tears.

“I love you, mommy…”

It was a plea, a cry for help, but she couldn't do anything. She took a deep breath so she wouldn't start crying and hugged his little body against hers.

“I love you too, Eric. My baby, my son... I love you most in the entire world.”

×××

It was the third meeting they have had with Eric's school that year. Becoming a teenager was not easy for him, and it revealed sides in him they hadn't noticed before.

He had been such a calm child, and after he stopped seeing his mother, he also started to feel safe and comfortable in his own skin, but instead of those sides growing in him, other things took over.

While some teenagers became a bit moody, he got depressed and had a hard time getting up from bed in the mornings. When he finally was in school, he couldn't concentrate and did things you should absolutely not do in a classroom. Playing with a lighter and burning things up was his favorite, painting on the walls another. Even if all his teachers saw that he was a nice boy with serious problems, they kicked him out of the classroom, and Eric found himself chain smoking and listening to music that matched his mood. He was lonely. Extremely lonely, so when the wrong sort of people stretched a hand out to him, he was quick with taking it.

“We haven't seen Eric for a week now. If it continues like this, we're forced to call social service,” said the principal and leaned against his desk. Lotti looked at her husband and sighed deeply. It was always heartbreaking to hear about how Eric slowly destroyed his life. She knew it wasn't his fault. His biological mother had probably taken substances while pregnant; he had trauma since his childhood with her, and on top of that, he had such severe panic attacks that he had cried for death.

“Eric is a lovely young man and is really appreciated as a person-”

“So why don't you help him more? The only thing you do is throw him out of the classroom! Why should he go to school when no one wants him here?” Lotti said, upset. The principal gave her husband a look, like he thought he should calm his wife down, but Eric felt the same thing and looked at the principal with an angry look.

“We must think about the other students... You haven't thought about maybe taking Eric to a doctor? To get some help with his... problems?”

Lotti looked down at her hands and sighed deeply. She knew they probably needed to do that, but pulling him away to a doctor felt awful. He didn't need that on top of everything else.

×××

Robin always came home from school alone, even if they had told him to drive his brother home. They had given him a new metallic red Mercedes, and it’d been clear that he would give Eric a ride home. Robin always said Eric wanted to go home by himself, and their parents didn't know what to think. Eric liked being alone, but it was a long way home. Lotti looked at Robin disappear to his bedroom with two girls laughing while she sat down by the window. She worried the whole day for Eric and how the medications would affect him. He was such a sweet boy, and she didn't want to destroy that with all the pills he had been prescribed.

She smiled a little when she saw him come walking. He looked like a black raincloud in his black zip hoodie, black jeans, black hair, and black eyeliner around his eyes. He carried his khaki backpack on one shoulder, full of pins from different bands and motifs made to provoke. Still, the kids on the street jump around him. Eric smiled a little while they tried to impress him with their skateboards and MP3 players. Lotti got warm in her chest. It was just something really special with him, and everyone liked him.

“Hey mom!” He shouted when he came in through the door.

"Hey, honey,” answered Lotti and walked out to the hallway to meet him. He had pulled off his hoodie and surprised her with a yellow t-shirt, a sex pistol t-shirt, and he had put his converse neatly on the shoe rack.

He gave her a hug, like he always did when he came home and Lotti took his hand. They needed to talk but were interrupted by Robin's laugh. He came down with his two girlfriends, and Lotti let go of Eric's hand to not embarrass him in front of the older girls. They giggled when they saw him, and he got red in the cheeks and ears.

“Hey Eric,” said one of the girls, and the both of them giggled. Robin rolled his eyes.

“Don't forget to come home for dinner,” said Lotti to her oldest son while her younger son stood looking down on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah!” He answered and opened the door for the girls. Just before he closed it, both Lotti and Eric heard one of the girls say, excited:

“Your brother is so fucking cute!”

Lotti looked at her youngest son, who smiled embarrassed but tried to hide it from his mother. She smiled at him, amused. It was true; he was cute, and she knew he would be more than that one day. She wished she didn't need to have the talk she needed to have with him—let him bask in the girl’s words—but instead she needed to take him to the kitchen, where his medications stood in a row.

“So this is for your ADD, this is the antidepressants, these you can take if you have anxiety, these are for the OCD…” Lotti looked at a note while pointing at the medications in front of them. Eric looked at the medications and dragged his hand over a bruise on his neck he had told his parents was from his karate training. He saw something else than his mom did while looking at the pills.

“You can have them here in the kitchen, in a cabinet-”

Eric gave her a disliking look.

“Robin's friends are always here digging around; can't I just have it in my room?” He said and continued to drag his hand over the bruise. Lotti looked at her son. He was a trustworthy young man, and she trusted him with her life.

“Okay, but you must take them every day.”

Eric nodded, taking the medications in his hands, and walked up the stairs. He would take them every day, but also take more and more for every day.

×××

“That doctor… I can't understand why he felt it was a good idea to give a fourteen-year-old so many medications… But also…” Lotti sighed and looked down at the pictures of Eric. “I can't understand how I thought it was a good idea for him to take care of it all himself. I forgot he wasn't my own flesh and blood so many times…”

I sat in silence for a while, until Lotti sighed.

“But what happened then? I guess you noticed he had taken them all?”

Lotti nodded.

“Yes, and we didn't get him any more medications. He tried to tell us he wouldn't do it again, but we weren't that stupid this time. Then I kinda... Forgot about it all?” Lotti looked shameful. “You must understand, Eric was such a lovely young man with me and others around; I kind of forgot he actually didn't feel well, or maybe I didn't want to believe so? He was just sweet all the time, so we didn't notice he fixed his own drugs instead.”

“Like what?”

“First I think it was weed, then he started with ecstasy and amphetamine... I don't really know when he started to take opiates.”

It was all so sad. They had wanted to give him everything, but his background caught up with him. He had inherited the addiction gene and was also traumatized by abuse. He didn't have a chance. His anxiety had taken over his life, and he still was fighting so hard.

I looked at Lotti while she dried her tears with her floral napkin. I wanted to tell her that the person she loves the most was alive and quite happy, but I didn't dare. I didn't know how that would affect her, and I didn't want to create fights with either Robin or Eric. It was both their choice, and I wanted to give them both respect.

“Did he take drugs all the time after that?”

Lotti looked up at me again and made a loud exhalation. It probably took all her power to talk about Eric, but she continued anyway.

“No, he had a girlfriend that got him to stop, Felice, but when the relationship started to go south, he also felt a need for drugs. And then… With Simone, everything got so much worse.” I looked at Lotti with big eyes. I could feel a stir of anger in my stomach when I thought about Simone, but also jealousy, it was hard thinking about Eric with another woman.

“She broke his heart. Eric was a sensitive boy—so sensitive, and she didn't take his mental health problems seriously. She didn't understand where his addiction came from, so she broke up with him. The next I hear...” Lotti took a break and swallowed hard. “The next…” She swallowed hard again, but the tears had gathered in her eyes and would spill over even if she did everything in her power not to cry. I took her hand in mine, and she let herself cry silently.

“He had overdosed. Heroine. My boy… My little boy…” she cried. My heart beated hard in my chest, and my throat burned like I had swallowed a match. It was awful that she believed he was dead.

“When was this?” I asked carefully.

“Soon three years ago.”

I nodded slowly. It must have been around the same time she had been through her accident, so it was easy to fool her, but that was also what made it even worse. She had also lost her husband around the same time. Why did they do this to Lotti?

×××

The full moon looked at us while we made out. Big and round, it stared at us just like in my dreams, but this time we weren't alone. We sat outside on a cold autumn night after having danced at The Pulse. Four of his friends sat and looked at us while we made out on a teeter-totter on the playground. We had run around there like two kids while his friends passed around a joint.

I had his bomber jacket on top of my own coat while he just wore an oversized t-shirt with a big picture of Courtney Love in a thin neglige. Even if he had so few clothes on, I put my cold hands on his stomach to touch his skin and muscles.

“He's just skinny!” Shouted Jackie towards us, and both me and Eric looked at him amused. Eric dragged me closer to him so he could stuff his nose in my hair and breathe in, and I dragged my hands to his naked back.

“Should we go home?” He whispered, and I nodded. I wanted him to myself now.

“Do you know she stalked you?” Shouted Jackie just as loudly as he had done before. Eric looked at him with a smirk, like it was a bad joke. I, on the other hand, gave Jackie a worried look and swallowed hard.

“Yeah, she had seen you around and begged me for your address. It wasn't a coincidence you met her outside the store.”

Eric looked at me with a confused smirk. He didn't seem to believe Jackie, and neither would I, if it hadn’t been about me.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're going home now,” said Eric, who helped me off the teeter before he stood up himself. While doing that, his sleeve rode up, and I could see the aggressively purple bruise on his upper arm. I saw that Nick looked at it too, but I looked away when he looked at me.

“It's nice seeing you together. Seeing you with a girl. It suits you,” said Nick in a brotherly way, but there was a hint of worry there too. Eric lit up and pulled me close to him. He looked at me with big eyes.

“Yeah. It feels like a dream sometimes.” He didn't let me go with his eyes while his friends started to ‘oh and ah’ and whistle as a joke. Eric smirked at them but then lifted me up easily so I had my legs around his waist.

“Let's go home.”

×××

It was all so good between us, except when his anxiety crept on him in the night, like something heavy lay on his chest, and he couldn't get it away. I could see him touch his neck, like that was the solution. I dragged his hand away and let him lay against my chest and breathe deeply.

“Tell me. What do you think about?”

Eric laid quiet, like he expected the question to disappear if he just ignored it.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I don't know,” he said lowly. “Just shit. Old memories.”

“What kind of memories?” I wanted him to tell me about his childhood with his own words, but he was quiet again.

“It can help to talk about it.”

“I don't know what to say,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “It's just bullshit things.” 

He was just the same as he was when he was four years old. I wondered if he had told anyone what had actually happened to him as a child. I dragged my fingers through his hair until he suddenly talked with a whisper, like he didn't dare to say it out loud.

“It was my own fault... I should have said something, but... I guess I was ashamed."

“You don't need to be ashamed; it wasn't your fault.” 

My comment could reveal I knew more than I should, but he didn't say anything about it; he just sighed deeply and laid a hand over his face. 

“Eric? You were a child; it's okay to talk about it. You don't have any responsibility for this.” 

He nodded a little but didn't remove his hand, so I moved him away from my chest and laid down so our faces were at the same height. 

I waited for him to say something, and at last he did. 

“I had the best parents... My foster parents. I love…” he swallowed hard and looked down at the sheets. “They were the best, but my biological mother... Eh fuck,” he sat up in bed and laid his hands over his face. I didn't move, hoping he would lay down when he was ready. 

“She was just fucked up.” He shrugged his shoulders like that was all. 

“Fucked up, how?” I asked and dragged my hand over his naked back. Eric put his hands on his head and dragged them back to his neck in an uncomfortable manner. 

“Eh fuck Della, I don't want to talk about this.” 

I nodded a little and pulled lightly on his forearm. 

“Okay, of course. Come now, baby, let's sleep…”  

He laid down on my chest again, and I hugged his head in my arms. I was disappointed he didn't want to tell me, and at the same time, I worried so much about him. It wasn't healthy to carry around such things in his chest without processing them. I also felt the bad conscience grow in my tummy. I knew so much about him but pretended to know nothing so he would tell me more. 

Eric fell asleep after having listened to my heart for a couple minutes; he didn't seem to notice it beating harder with anxiety. I was his girlfriend, but the only thing I did was lie. I wanted to be honest; I wanted our relationship to be true, but for that to happen, I needed to tell him I had stalked him, I had fooled his mom and brother, and I had lied to him. He would never forgive me for that. 

I pressed my cheek against the top of his head and breathed in his minty shampoo. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths, but my tears slipped down in his black hair and disappeared. I wished it could be as easy for my lies to disappear. 

 ××× 

I could see that all of my girlfriends looked at Eric with big eyes, even my sister, Desiree. 

We were out dancing at a club, celebrating Halloween, and getting tipsy on tequila shots. Eric was one of the few guys in the club that had some sort of Halloween costume. He had let me do his makeup, and we matched each other, with black tears streaming down our cheeks, and he also had my black lipstick on. He did what he wanted and didn't even think about how people would react. 

“I think you need a glass of water!” He said to me over the music and laughed at my disoriented look. “I’ll get one for you!”

Eric stood up and walked away to the bar. He towered over most people, and it made it easy for me to see where he went. I looked at my friends who also looked after him. He wore a dark gray tank top in a loose model that showed off his arms and muscular chest. He paired it with bleached jeans that sat baggy on his long legs. 

“He's hot as fuck!” Nessa said to me loudly over the music even if her boyfriend sat next to her. I giggled and laid my head against the couch. I was a bit too drunk, but I had the luxury to know I had a boyfriend who would be able to carry me home. 

“He is, but... He looks like a player! Are you sure he is a good guy?” asked Desiree and looked at me seriously. 

“He's not a player! I promise. Don't you notice how shy he is?” 

Eric had said hello to everyone but kept mostly quiet while we talked. He just nodded a little with a smile when he agreed with something. 

“Are you sure he's shy? It can just be a way to win you over,” said Nessa's boyfriend and took a sip of his beer. I gave him an irritated, pointed look.

���You think he has played shy for three months? He's shy! Even if he looks like a bad boy!” I said with a drunken giggle. Desiree shook her head amused and also giggled. We fell quiet when Eric came back, carrying a glass of water for me and a beer for himself. In my toxication, I crawled into his lap with a giggle and kissed his face several times. I was so proud to have such a hot, sweet boyfriend. I could see jealous eyes on us. Eric smirked at me but then pressed his lips against mine. 

“What's your training routine?” Paulina's boyfriend asked suddenly. I had seen him looking at Eric a lot, but I hadn't put so much thought into what it meant, but now I knew. I looked at Eric, who played with my short leather skirt with an uncomfortable expression. He was probably not so comfortable answering that because he trained a bit too much. It was sometimes many hours a day. 

“No, you don't really know, right? You just work out when you want to,” I said so he wouldn't need to answer the question. He looked at me with big eyes, then smiled. 

“Yeah, it's not scheduled, so I don't know,” said he with a shoulder shrug.

××× 

We became even more intoxicated, except Eric, who drank as much as the other guys but was completely unfazed. We were outside of the club, ready to go to the next destination, but we needed to wait on Nessa, who puked in an alley with Desiree as help. Paulina and Amanda looked between me and Eric, leaning against the building further away, closer to the alley. 

“He's super hot... Isn't that hard? I don't mean this in a bad way, but... He's a really hot guy, while you're more... Cute?” said Amanda.

I scoffed and looked at Eric, who had pulled up his tank top to show his abs for the men around him. It was silly behavior and probably nothing they would have done if they weren't drunk. 

“You mean I'm not hot enough for him?” 

“I don't mean it like that! Just that you maybe don't match?” 

I shook my head in disbelief but also wondered how she would continue the conversation, but instead both of my friends just looked at him when he laughed showing off his abs. I was so proud of him. So, so proud of that amazing human, but now I felt worried and jealous. Because of Demi's reaction to him, I had started to believe I was the only one seeing his beauty, but I was so wrong; even the guys stood and gawked at his body. I had been naive, and now I got worried some other girl was around the corner, prepared to steal my man. 

I left Paulina and Amanda without saying anything and walked up to my tall boyfriend. He was the tallest in the group. He was the fittest in the group. The hottest of them too. I wasn't the hottest of my friends; I wasn't even the tallest. 

“I'm tired,” I whined and pushed my face against his chest, acting like I was more drunk than I was. Eric looked down at me with a silly smile and put my hair behind my ear with soft fingers. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked and lifted my chin so he could look me in the eyes. I pouted and nodded like a sour five-year-old. He played with my pouting underlip with his thumb in a teasing way and made the same face himself. 

“Then we go home, yeah?” 

I nodded but lifted my arms, and he lifted me up like it was obvious what I wanted. I could see my girlfriends look at me with some sort of envy. Maybe they just wanted their boyfriends to be more like Eric, or they wanted him. I didn't care, the only thing I knew was that I would never let him go. He was mine. 

××× 

How we ended up on the floor I couldn't remember. I could only remember what I saw right then and there. Eric had my naked leg in a tight grip, slung over his shoulder, while snapping his hips fast. His girthy cock pushed into me fast and hard and I could hear myself moaning in a pathetic way; sometimes I even mixed in his name, something I've never done with any guy before. When I looked up at him, I could see his dark gaze and open mouth. I could see a sweaty chest and abs and a v-line carved with the sharpest knife. He kissed my calf while slapping his hips against mine. He let me often lay down because I couldn't match his strength and stamina, but he didn't complain; it felt more like he fucked me even harder because he wanted to tease me.

“Can I come inside of you?” He said it between his pants, and I just nodded. He had learned he didn't need to do much to get me to come when he had transformed me into a pile of just lifeless body parts, he just pressed down with two fingers over my clit, like it was a button, and rubbed it a few times, then I came together with him. 

××× 

I really needed to start to work out again. Even if I hadn't really done any heavy lifting, I had pain in my thighs the next morning. I was happy my parents had been nice and had taken Odin for a night; in exchange, they could meet my boyfriend. I looked at my boyfriend snoring loudly with an open mouth. He always snored loudly when he had been drinking alcohol. Sometimes he even woke me up. I was nervous about bringing him to my parents. I knew he would be the best boy but I didn't know if my parents would be as well behaved. I don’t even think they had seen someone with as many tattoos as Eric. They would probably be uncomfortable but I hoped they at least would be nice. 

I laid my nose against his neck even if he was snoring and slung a leg over his hip. I just wanted to be close, and I hoped the sight of my pussy so close to his cock would make him perk up when he was awake. I smirked to myself, lost in filthy thoughts, so I didn't even hear the entrance door open. 

If I knew, I would have jumped up and closed the door to the bedroom. If I knew that Robin had taken his own key to surprise me early in the morning, I would have suggested Eric should take a run in my neighborhood. The last thing I would do was lay naked with his brother, who started to get hard in his sleep. 

I thought I heard the sound of keys but waved it away as nothing. Instead, I dug down my nose even further down in Eric's neck and let my pussy push against his hardened cock. I knew it was okay I did that; he just likes being woken up with sex.

“What the fuck?” I heard Robin say behind me in such a confused voice that I didn't even recognize his voice. I turned to the door and met his blue eyes that looked at us upset. First I couldn't move, even if he could see so much of our naked bodies, and when I started to realize what was actually happening, I moved away from Eric and covered us both up with covers. 

“Oh my god, oh my god... Robin, it wasn't meant…” I whined and put my hands over my face in shame. 

“You're fucking with him??” Said Robin, upset and waved with his arms, so he accidentally waved down a vase standing on my vanity table. It was crushed into hundreds of small pieces, but it also crushed Eric's sleep, and he looked up, confused. He sat up, exposing his whole naked torso, and it made Robin look away, like he thought the view was disgusting. Eric looked at Robin in silence than at me in confusion. 

“What, what, what is this?” He stuttered. His big green eyes were full of worry but also hurt. He already knew I had done something stupid that would break his trust in just as many pieces as the vase. 

×

[thyln4gf]

Friends

✞ You and Carlos have been best friends since forever. But is platonic love really everything that you feel for each other?

✞ Word count - 2,5k

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that I associate with this fic - "genie in a bottle" - Christina Aguilera, "friends" - Chase Atlantic, "a rash decision" - Ice Nine Kills, "sonne" - Rammstein, "dont be so shy" - Imany.

✞ Warnings - smut, unprotected sex (wrap the beast before the feast, folks), the influence of alcohol. I also wrote the most of it at like 4am, so pardon the quality of it, thank yewww x

✞ Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

As soon as you step into the house, a soft groan of relief leaves your throat. Your heels immediately get kicked off of your feet, and you dont even bother to fiddle with the straps too much. You had a long, long evening - formal settings werent exactly your natural habitat, but being there with Carlos made them much more bearable. You are his best friend, and he is a famous figure, meaning that he invites you to all sorts of events all the damn time. Speaking of which - he was watching you with amusement, completely aware of the fact that you werent exactly in a huge amount of comfort at the moment.

"And whos not making any sense now? I told you not to wear those." Carlos slips the comment your way, making you roll your eyes only hearing the three magic words. He didnt tell you everything, though - yes, he knew how uncomfortable your heels were. And yes, he also knew that walking in them sucked. But he kept something to himself - the fact that only the thought of those heels excited him, as he had always liked to imagine taking them off for you. He could vividly imagine kneeling right in front of you, taking his sweet time, kissing your skin everywhere that he could reach. He liked the idea of it a little too much, to the point he found himself disappointed when the sight of you kicking them off greeted him.

"I had no choice, and you know it. I had nothing else to go with this dress!" You complain, vaguely gesturing at the dress you were wearing - the tired whine in your voice was obvious. Carlos' eyes slide up and down your body as you did so - he had a chance, and he took it. God, he loved this dress - the red, short-ish dress with a slit on the side - the tattoo on your thigh peeked through each and every time that you moved. He got a sudden urge to bite your thigh right there and then, but he knew that hed be overstepping the boundaries.

All he does is let out an amused, half-chuckle type of laugh. He loved listening to your rants. And boy, could you do that just fine - your mouth never closed. And he loved it.

He started slipping his own shoes off, all while watching you walk into your kitchen - your movements were so smooth, to the point that he swore that you were floating sometimes. He doesnt want to have you out of his sight for too long, so he takes his shoes off just a little faster than he normally would, and following your idea of entering the kitchen. There he found you by one of the counters, pouring yourself a glass of wine. He lets a small smile appear on his lips - he just couldnt help himself around you.

"Tired, amor?" His voice floats through the air, smooth as butter on toast, and just as warm. He always used that specific petname for you, and only you. And youd be a liar if you said that it didnt make you feel some type of way - the tone he used never failed to turn you on just a little, despite you two being... friends? You werent too sure at this point. You just shrug at him as a response, still trying to grab a set of words that were coherent enough. You swirl the beverage in your glass around, eyebrows rising up for barely a second before taking a sip.

Yet another thing that he enjoyed about you - watching all those small habits of yours, which you probably dont even notice. He liked observing you, just looking at you. And he didnt even try to hide it - he'd just wink at you each and every time that you caught him doing so, with no shame.

He wasnt exactly shy, but when it came to you... he felt like he was a teenager all over again. You made his head spin, and it was a much more enjoyable high than alcohol could ever provide. Only the thought of you made his chest tighten, the air threatening to escape his lungs. He shouldnt be so nervous around you, he thought. He could get anyone all giggly in the matter of seconds. Proof? Charles. But you were a special case... thats for sure. The roles were reversed - you were the one that had him thinking about you all day and night, wishing to get out of the friendzone that everyone hated oh so much. He might have had a wank or two with you lingering on his mind - the way you smelled, the way your eyes looked at him. If the dictionary ever needed a picture to describe being down-bad, they should just stick one of Carlos in there.

After a minute of him staring at you with your drink, you look his way. It felt like a routine at this point - you look away from him even for a fraction of a second, and you know that youre going to see his goofy smirk staring right back at you. But this time... this time, something was off. You couldnt tell if it was the alcohol, or something else (you had a pretty awesome night, despite the event being a formal dinner, but thats a standard at this point) - he was looking at you with an almost... hungry look in his eyes. He looked like he was about to drill a hole through your soul, and was particularly enjoying himself, shooting the usual wink your way, before walking up to lean against the counter, right by your side. His thigh brushes against yours, the material of the suit against your skin almost making you shiver.

"You know what would make tonight even better?" He speaks up, his eyes never leaving yours. Hes acting all smooth and smug right now, but you could see him swallowing his own saliva, and his cheeks turning just a tad bit more red.

"Spill it, big boy. Im listening." You reply, your voice sounding just as seductive as his, almost making his brain short circuit - and you can see it from the way his grin makes its way back onto his lips. He had always found your teases adorable, honestly. Hats off for that.

"Well..." Carlos hesitated for a second, which wasnt like him at all - he was nervous, and it was an adorable sight to witness. "We could have the evening to ourselves and..." his eyes moved to your lips for a split second, letting his gaze linger on them for way longer than what he had considered the "safe limit". He only managed to speak again in a second, seemingly collecting himself a little better now. It didnt mean that his cheeks werent heating up in embarrassment, though. "Well, you know."

A chuckle slips from your throat upon hearing his offer. He was beating around the bush slightly, but not like you minded. You had always liked this goofball of a man, and his methods of getting his way. You never let them sink in deep, confused on his true intentions behind his actions. But something about this evening... the alcohol has hit your brain already, and awhile ago, and all you could think about was your friends lips all over you.

You down the rest of your drink, and put the glass down on the counter, a little to the right of you. You turn your head to Carlos, once again. He couldnt be more predictable - youre greeted with a sight of him staring at the hand handling the glass, then your waist. Eventually, up to your eyes. You stare back at him. You raise your finger to trace it along his jawline, his chin, the bottom half of his cheeks. He gulps, getting much more nervous than he was before.

"Youre adorable, did you know that?" You whisper right in front of his face, your warm breath hitting his lips. He doesnt even get to respond, before he feels your lips on his. His brain doesnt even register what was happening at first, but his body reacts way before his brain - his left hand immediately went to your hip, pulling you to his body. The other one is now gripping the counter, and he finds himself hoping that his knees wont give out. He could smell the cherry and cinnamon wine on you the moment you got closer, and he doesnt waste any time - he pushes his tongue out of his mouth, hungry and desperate to taste more. He groans, and your hand slides to his neck in response, gripping it ever so slightly, pulling him closer. He takes it as permission to shove his tongue even deeper, earning a little chuckle out of you.

Quickly enough, his other hand goes down to your hips as well, now caressing them with great intensity. The material of your dress slides up ever so slightly, and he just cant wait much longer - he lifts you without even trying, and places you on the counter. His movements are harsh and desperate, and he doesnt notice the glass. He knocks it over, and it shatters to pieces, right on the floor.

"Carlos..." you groan against his mouth, trying to pull away a little, so you could actually look at what just happened. You earn a sigh out of him for that - out of all the scenarios he had imagined of your first time together... all the circumstances of you moaning his name for the first time were not that. He clicks his tongue, and grabs your chin, turning your face to his, slamming his lips back on yours. It was almost like him saying that he really couldnt be giving less shits. He wanted you, and he was forced to wait for way too fucking long.

His other hand travels down to your thigh, now kneading it like his life depended on it. A moan slips from you, right into his mouth. The grip that you still have on his throat only tightens, causing his movements to become even more aggressive.

He tries to slide your dress up to your waist, but the fabric being trapped between the countertop and your body didnt let him. He lets out a slow groan of frustration. Desperate times call for desperate solutions, no? He leans you against his body, leaning back a little himself. That lets him pull the skirt up. He has barely even brushed his fingertips against your skin, but it was just enough to make your certain area feel a little tingly already.

He wants to take off your underwear as well, while you two are at it. He finds that his back cant take much more of being in this position, but he still hesitates about doing that, his fingers tugging the lacy material ever so slightly. You notice it, and grab one of his wrists to guide him to take those off, almost desperately. You can hear him sucking in a breath, but not resisting anything at all.

Once theyre off, he sits you back down to your previous position. His lips pull away from yours first, something that he never thought that he would be doing. He keeps staring into your eyes, his hands reaching to take his own pants off. This man had his tongue down your throat just seconds ago, and even that didnt make your face heat up more than this.

His pants are off in the matter of seconds. For a second there, he was close to fucking you just like this, through the hole his underpants had in the front. He ended up taking the underwear off as well, and it flied off even faster than the pants did, his boner getting freed as well.

He cant resist looking down to your pussy, already so wet and ready for him. So needy. You had always put up a tough demeanour, which you were trying to maintain even now. Adorable, he thought. He looks back up to your eyes while getting closer to you again, his palms landing on your thighs, spreading your legs just slightly. He was desperate, almost shaking with desire. But he still wanted to get your consent. God, you love men doing the bare minimum so much. All you can manage is a brief nod, and its all it takes him - he almost explodes on you. His lips immediately attack your neck, pressing multiple kisses everywhere that he could reach. He was never a man who liked to waste much time, and it shows - he gave his cock a few pumps before entering you right away, yet still taking his sweet time to let you adjust to him. He earns a gasp out of you, as you throw your head back. He cant help himself, and the kisses on your neck turn into gentle bites. You moan a little louder - feeling him on you, and in you was almost overwhelming, and you could already feel the knot in your lower stomach forming. Though, you werent sure if it was that, or his length hitting you deep. Or both.

He was even closer than you were. The precum has leaked long before he even took his pants off. Honestly... Being near you was almost like keeping an infinite edging streak - sexually frustrating torture. He thrusts into you for a few more minutes, and he already knows that hes about to cum. He groans in frustration (but only because you havent reached your high yet - he was disappointed with himself. But its not his fault that you were so... hot) and is about to pull out, but your legs suddenly wrap around his waist, pulling him closer right before he can do that. A loud moan slips from his throat, the warm liquid already filling you up so good. And you find himself shutting him up with a kiss - the sloppiest youve ever had at this point.

His movements stop, his mind hazy from all the pleasure he's receiving. All he can focus on is you, and only you. You were content with leaving things like this, you were honestly about to cum anyway. Just another minute of him staying inside of you... But Carlos seemed to have gotten a different idea. Suddenly, he's in a kneeling position right in front of you, looking up with his pretty eyes. His eyelashes are longer than mine... what the fuck?

However, your train of thought quickly melts away when his tongue makes contact with your clit. He wanted to go slow just to tease you, but all the pretty sounds you were making teased him instead, and he found himself speeding up just a little, making sure to apply some more pressure as well. And, soon enough, youre riding your own high against his face. Both of your breaths are heavy, and both of you could be found smiling.

You both forgot about the load in you, however. You were still bathing in the dopamine after-high, the satisfaction making both of your heads spin. He looked up at you, again. And right at this moment, marrying your best friend seemed possible - something you never believed in.

[slytherinshua]

slowly realizing more and more that the sm boycott effort is gonna amount to nothing in the end, and this is not the way we should be going about the riize situation.

i loved seunghan when he was in the group, and i am still an ot7 fan. but at a point, i think we need to think of how much of our time and energy we're willing to spend fighting for something that has such a small chance of actually happening. sm is gonna bounce back from any stock lost from the boycott because they are one of the big 3. they have like 4 of the biggest groups in kpop rn: nct, aespa, red velvet, riize. there's just no way either boycotting riize or boycotting all of sm would actually be detrimental enough to get a member who's been terminated from the group back in.

and while i don't agree with the ot6 fans who are being unreasonable, i think some ot7 fans have been just as bad. this fandom is so toxic and rotten, every day it just seems to get worse. and i don't like the narrative that most ot7 fans were spreading about ot6 kfans-- how they were just mad that seunghan was dating pre debut. that isn't why they were mad, they really didn't care about that. it's the fact that he took pictures of him with his possibly/alleged underage girlfriend (it's honestly bad enough with/without her being possible underage, which i don't have confirmation on) at what looks like a hotel and presumably sent it to his friends in a group chat (which was how it got leaked). that's why they wanted him out of the group.

personally, i don't believe that a member should get kicked out of a group or put on hiatus without a proper reason why. and seunghan's hiatus and termination is really messy. but there are valid reasons why kfans weren't too big on him. the problem is there have been many idols kicked out for things they didn't do, and others who have been caught doing really fucked up and nasty things and rightfully kicked out of the group, but it's hard to know which idols are innocent or not when there's no organization. and when we jump on a narrative train and blow something super big out of proportion, the facts and proper investigation of the situation gets lost in the mess of things.

what should have happened was things being properly investigated back in october 2023 before seunghan was ever put on hiatus, and a decision made from there whether to keep him in the group or kick him out based on that.

instead, we have the other 6 members who clearly want seunghan back tired of the state of everything (rightfully so), ot7 and ot6 fans fighting a full blown war every day without logical thinking, and misinformation being spread left and right. there's no organization, there's no firm confirmation on anything, all of this is just such a big mess.

now let me be clear IF it's true that there was anything suspicious going on between seunghan and his girlfriend, then i would obviously no longer support him. as it is, i'm not going to stop supporting him until there's firm evidence. i'm tired of kpop stans making rash decisions based on half truths instead of just being patient and waiting for the facts to come out. staying neutral during unclear situations is a valid stance to take. please let's all stop jumping to conclusions from both sides.

[jenscx]

ATTENTION 36 — a question (half-written)

you giggle at the comment, it had been at least an hour since minji tweeted out your photo but the tweet had already received over five hundred thousand likes. the adoration your fans had for ‘ynji’ was severely underestimated.

“unnie,” you turn around, smiling widely as minji gestured for you to come closer to her. the younger girl was just so cute.

“yes, jinnie?” you shift closer to her on balcony. true to her words, minji had brought you out on an amazing date; flowers in hand when you first met, renting out a whole restaurant to avoid curious gazes and finally…

“do you like it?” minji had asked, eyes glistening with hope as she brought you to a penthouse in a five star hotel near your dorm.

even if there was a stunning view of city lights that you could admire, you wouldn’t mind just staring at minji.

“i love it,” you answer truthfully, “thank you for doing all of this.” the view was breathtaking, minji, the literal girl of your dreams standing against a backdrop of the city’s stunning silhouette. the balcony was beautifully decorated, and so was the bed, you had noted. you truly wonder if minji had specially requested a heart formation of rose petals to be laid out on the king-sized bed…

you wouldn’t put it past the adorably cheesy girl. minji continued to admire the view, and you, continued to admire minji.

“minji,” you open your arms, waiting for an embrace, “come ‘ere.”

the younger girl’s eyes light up even more, you swear you were able to see the whole universe in her eyes. minji ran into your arms in a flurry, sighing contentedly when wrapping her arms around your waist.

“it’s nice being here with just you,” minji says, “i don’t need to fend hyein off from you or be teased by my members.”

you nod in agreement. even though hyein was adorable, you could understand minji’s need for time alone without her members. you felt that way too; even if you loved them to death.

“do you wanna go wash up?” you ask after a few seconds of hugging. minji shakes her head. rolling your eyes, you retract your arms and playfully blow air into minji’s ears before running off to the bathroom.

maybe dives were right when they called you childish. not that you could be anymore childish than yujin.

“unnie!” minji cries out, chasing after you.

giggles erupt as minji tries to run after you around the hotel room, with you ultimately ending up out of breath and conceding when minji threatens to tickle you. as you recollect your breath, you realise that minji is standing awfully close.

before you make any rash decisions, you stumble to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and trying to calm your throbbing heart and red face with the cold shower water. after spending around half an hour just trying to forget how delicious minji looked, you walk out in one of the hotel’s robes. the younger girl perks up when you exit the bathroom.

“go shower, you stinky,” you tease as you flop onto the bed, sighing in delight. it was so comfortable; freshly showered, skincare done, everything taken care of… minji’s face scrunches up in fake annoyance as she walks to the bathroom.

you close your eyes for a short while, finally resting. minji doesn’t take long to shower, it only felt like seconds when she sits on the space next to you. using your palms, you lift yourself up, gazing at minji.

her hair tousled and wet, mouth parting and a water droplet dripping down from her neck to her collarbone…

it makes your mind run wide with imagination. you quickly turn your head away, if you didn’t, you might do something you’d regret. minji, however, doesn’t shy away and instead pulls you even closer to her, if that was possible.

“unnie,” she breathes, “can i ask you a question?”

“of course, jinnie.”

her eyelashes batter, lips pouting and cheeks flushed red. it was such a difficult choice— either staring at her hooded eyes or her mouth parting. you decide to focus on the latter. it’s strange that you have to look up at her slightly, with you being older, it was the first time you felt like you were weak.

“can i be your girlfriend?”

yes. a hundred times yes. you wanted to answer.

to be frank, you weren’t too shocked by her sudden confession. kim minji wore her heart on her sleeve, you always managed to know what she was feeling. and with the way your relationship was progressing now, it wasn’t crazy for her to ask.

“kim minji,” you gently trail your hand from her arm to behind her neck, pulling her ever so slightly close, leaving no room for her to look anywhere else but your face, “you can only be mine if i’m yours.”

the earth is big, and the universe is bigger. but nothing can compete with the adoration that you have for minji.

masterlist | next

TAGS ! @ky-yk @urmom2314 @nasyu-kookies @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @be0mluver @lesleepyyy @eunhhh @edamboon @sewiouslyz @haerinfangs @impossiblesharkcashrebel @mightymyo @dexthzone @pandafuriosa60 @dmndtears @awkwardtoafault @hyehae @haerinkisser @chaerybae @yukianism @urwyf3 @manooffline @yerisdumbass @jeindall777 @jiwoneiric @justme-idle @imthisclosetokms

[thesassypadawan]

Repent (Don X FemReader)

Summary: Your pastor takes notice of your new sinful tattoo and gives you but one option for repentance.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut. Pastor/Religion kink, hint of a breeding one, womb tattoo, implied age gap, and… Don’s big, girthy dick.

Notes: Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡

- “Please, stop by the sanctuary before the party starts.  I would like to speak with you…privately.”  The pastor’s calm, even voice rang throughout your mind; his request hanging heavy on it.

- You would be lying if you didn’t admit that you found the older gentleman handsome.  The way his blue eyes sparkle when he’s speaking passionately, how his smile lights up a room.  And his mustache; the very thought of it, all it could possibly do sends a small thrill run down your spine.  Causes a warmth rise into your cheeks, settle in your…

- Grazing your palm over your lower stomach, you quietly slip through the old oak doors.  Vision taking a moment to adjust to the dimly lit, candle filled space.  Before you silently and stealthily walk up the aisle, towards the alter…and him.

- Gaze sweeps, takes in the sight of your outfit.  “Don’t you make a lovely little angel,” he chuckles softly.  Resting his large hand gently on your arm, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.  “Like you dropped down straight from heaven.”  Lips curling slightly at the corners in amusement or perhaps…

- “Th-thank you, sir,” you reply meekly.  Trying to hide how flustered you were becoming.  How your heartbeat quickens when he trails his fingers, traces over and along where your womb resides.  “But I’m…I’m sure you d-didn’t ask me here to just talk about my cost-costume.”

- “Clever girl.”  Moving in closer, towering above you.  “I noticed something interesting earlier today; a very intricate, heart shape tattoo that you apparently have.”  Don presses his prominent bulge against your side, grinding subtly.  “The one right here…”

- Nails sink in as he squeezes, kneads your sensitive skin through the sheer fabric.  “It’s supposed to represent a ‘curse’, isn’t it?”  Before his hand descends further; digits ghosting, cupping your plump mound.  “One for extreme fertility.”

- “I…I…”  You stutter, stumble with your words.  Body trembling, humming from his taboo touch.  The fires of hell burning hot, bright in your blasphemous core.  “I…can explain…”

- Slouching slightly; warm breath fans, wiry hairs tickle.  “It’s a sin to dabble in the occult…”  Teeth graze, tongue licks your earlobe in a long stripe.  “Perhaps I can help you repent…”

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

- Desperate moan bubbles up from your throat as you wriggle, writhe.  Back arching, nails scratching lightly at the worn wood of the alter floor.  Pressure building, propelling you towards the edge once more.  “Please, I…I…”

- Weakly you clamp your plush thighs around Don's head, hips rolling forward.  Impaling yourself further, divine nectar spilling onto his skilled tongue.  “For-forgive me, my lor-lord…”

- Sticky digits grip, spread you open before him.  Flesh tender, an angry red; brushed, scrapped.  Stinging when the cool, faintly scented air kisses your burns…when he lets a fat glob of spit of drip, seep into the fresh cuts.  “He'll forgive you, my little imp…”

- Slick covered lips map their way up your vulnerable form.  Sucking, nipping…biting; leaving an array of dark purple splotches in their wake.  Groaning at the sound of your pathetic mewls and squeaks.  “Look past your rash decision…” 

- Hands tighten their hold; hitching, wrapping your stubby legs partially around his thick middle.  Bulbous tip prodding, smearing pre on your swollen folds.  Mixing and mingling with your juices, creating an unholy concoction.  “Absolve you of your follies…”

- Fingers trace over and along the inked lines.  “But not until you give yourself entirely to me…”  Squeeze, knead your soft paunch.  “Pledge that each child you bare from this perfect womb will be mine…”

- “Yes, I swear,” you whisper, vow.  Tears of pleasure, pain…of joy, sorrow streaming freely.  “My mind, soul, body.”  While you gaze up into the lifeless, stony eyes of the mother.  “Everything that I am is wholly yours.”

- “Amen…”  Your new husband,  co-creator of your future forbiden fruits mutters reverently, solemnly.  Thrusting forward; tearing, ruining…molding you into his own resplendent  image, his own earthbound angel.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @speaknow-sw, @mathesonlvr, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @ann4zw, @xhunnybeeex, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @t03soup

[softlights-citylights]

offstage harmonies

guitarist!semi eita x singer!reader

content warning none really, fame, fem reader

wc 711

m.list

semi was never the type of guy to make rash decisions, but she made him want to throw all of that out of the window

her friends had pushed her on stage during open mic night, and semi had been ensnared by the pink drunken flush on her face. though the lyrics were slightly slurred, her voice was clear and angelic

he was enchanted the moment he heard her voice. like a siren calling a sailor out to the waves, semi approached her with nerves he had never felt before.

her friends pushed her toward him, encouraging her to step out of her shell. maybe it was the alcohol, but she rashly accepted semi's invitation to join his band.

"so you're semi's new girl?" his bandmate teased. semi told him to cut it out, reassuring her that "it's not like that"

semi writes lyrics for her, and over time she notices that his lyrics begin to shift toward romance and unrequited love.

at first, she thinks nothing of it and continues to sing the lyrics he writes for her.

even outside the band, they spend a lot of time together. semi sits on her living room floor and strums mindlessly at his guitar as she hums. a notebook full of music and scribbles is open on the floor next to semi as he waits for the next wave of inspiration to hit him.

she gets up to move around the kitchen, filling up a glass of water for him. semi's eyes follow her as she picks out a couple snacks from the pantry. she tosses them on the coffee table before sitting on the floor next to him

semi's eyes shift to meet hers before jumping to her hair and trailing down the length of it. how many time had he written about her? written about the way her soft voice echoed through the apartment at night? about the way light bounced off her hair in the morning?

semi stayed over at her place so often he practically lived there. he knew her routine and adapted to it. if she was a morning bird, he'd wake up earlier and refrain from playing his guitar at night. if she was a night owl, he'd sleep in late then make breakfast for her.

was semi in love with just a dream? he couldn't tell, nor did he care.

if she expressed interest in learning the guitar, he'd oblige. semi wrapped his hands around hers, gently pushing her fingers into the right position

the tips of his fingers felt rough, calloused from years of pressing down on unforgiving guitar strings. hers weren't used to playing, so she had to tap out after a few minutes.

semi looked at the tips of her fingers and pressed a gentle kiss to the red indents left by the strings

their fans always seemed to ship them, being more fond of their interactions than that of the other members

she saw edits of semi online with captions like "if my man doesn't look at me the way he looks at her, then i dont want him"

his eyes rarely left her when they were on stage. she looked beautiful, even under the harsh stage lighting.

amplified by the microphone, her voice ran out over the stadium. hundreds of lights in the crowd, thousands of cheers erupted at the end of their last song.

"ENCORE! ENCORE!" they cheered.

semi walked up to her and gently pulled out her in ear monitor. he whispered, "can i do the encore?"

he took the mic into his hands, adjusting it to his height. the band was silent behind semi.

semi confesses with music, a song written entirely for her, in front of an arena filled with people. he isn't sure if his heart is still in his chest or if its jumped right out.

everyone already knows who the song is dedicated to. phones point toward her face then back to his.

in the end, semi puts down the mic and shouts over the roaring crowd. "will you be my girlfriend?"

m.list

a/n i haven't had the motivation to work on any of my original works lately. nor have i found the time to work on 'first on the call sheet'. it does kinda make me sad that sometimes i only have the energy to work in short bursts but i guess we all go thru phases

[confused-since-birth]

Razor's grip - part four

other chapters: 1 2 3

✨Notes: Hiii! I hope you enjoy this part as well, it isn't proofread yet, it might be incoherent in some parts, but I will edit it later. I would love feedback and advice where is needed. 💕

✨Characters: Sylus, non-mc!reader, Philip the shop owner, gang members

✨word count: 1672

✨warnings: men being weird, curse words at some point, death (insinuated), low-key stalking

Sylus wasn’t one to make rash decisions without a reason behind them. He also didn’t want useless elements anywhere near him; after all, the more, the harder to control. In this case, the first time the shop owner mentioned a certain student whose name appeared on very interesting papers Sylus paid no mind. He almost didn’t even recognize your name in some old files from Ever. Curiosity got the better of him and read your file: med student, an internship at Ever that was cut short without explanation. This intrigued him. He tried searching for an explanation on why was the internship so short, why did you give up, only to research protocores and the such.

After some days passed, he got his hands on a report from around that time. It stated that there was an incident regarding a procedure that was supposed to implant low energy protocores in some patients, then slowly raise the level of energy gradually while inside the body through different methods. However, things didn’t go as planned.

But there was no mention of you being present there in that moment.

Soon after, you gave up the internship at Ever, dropped out of medical school and enrolled in the University of Physics and Astronomy of Linkon City. Quite the change, you could say.

Sylus could feel something weird was happening the moment that one day, he came across a photo of you walking down the street, unknowing, and your address in newer files.

If you weren’t there that night, left with no problems, why would they put so much effort in keeping tabs on you?

That was the moment he decided that maybe Philip would appreciate a pair of hands in his shop that could help him. If Ever was so interested in your person, maybe you would prove to be an ace up his sleeve.

The night he saw you face to face for the first time, blood and sweat on your face he felt something close to familiarity. The fire in your eyes, the need to negotiate even if your life might’ve been in danger, startled something in him. He didn’t know what for sure, maybe amusement? Whatever it was, it made him want to see what will you do.

The week passed almost without noticing. You were starting to get used to the change. At first, the only thing you did was write reports and do the calculations for Philip to ease his work. He taught you new things, becoming your colleague and professor at the same time. Then, trying to help him more, you also started to work on the enhancers and repair broken pieces.

Sunday, while almost pulling your hair out because your results were far from the correct answer, you noticed Sylus standing in the door frame, waiting to be noticed. In his hand was a bag.

“I was wondering if, waiting for you to notice me, I will turn into a clothes hanger”, he says almost displeased.

“Did you go shopping and missed me?”, you reply dryly.

His only answer is a half smirk, while walking towards you. Sylus drops the bag on you papers and says:

“Go change quickly.”

In the bag were black dress pants and a jacket. They were beautifully tailored, fitting you like a second skin. The jacket was made a little longer than most would be. It closed with a red leather belt. They were comfortable and looked good. You put your hair in a bun, put on some shoes, and get in the car with Sylus.

“Thank you for the suit”, you say. It was unexpected, but much needed. You didn’t really have nice clothes and most of the time, near him, you feel inadequate anyway. “Where are we going?”

“A meeting”, he answers shortly, leaving no place for other discussions.

A deep sigh leaves your chest and chose to look out the window.

Sylus watches you with the corner of his eye, unbeknownst to you. He didn’t think the suit will look this good on your body. It was indeed simple, black and a speck of red. Did the red of the belt match the red of his eyes? Maybe. Did it stir a form of pride the fact that you wore his colors, while walking with that silent confidence of yours? Maybe. Your presence had a strange calming effect on him. There was only one person who could truly make him feel happy and calm, but it mustn’t be wrong to feel pleased with his employee. After all, you were the ace up his sleeve.

The meeting was held in the same hotel from almost a week ago. Sylus signals with a nod to follow him, which you do. He leads you in a room that would seem pretty cozy – as cozy as it could be in a hotel in the N109 Zone – if it weren’t for the two guys that were already sitting at the table and their bodyguards behind them.

The one whom you guessed to be the boss, looked intimidating – black hair that was kept in place by too much gel, a big nose in the center of his face and lips that were too thin and slim. His eyes got a glint of mischief when looking at you, they trailed over your body in a way that made your stomach want to get out through your throat. His body was too buff for the suit he wore.

Next to this man, was another that looked sickly – pale with long limbs, dark circles under his brown eyes that were partially masked by his round glasses. Blonde hair that looked messy fell in curls on his forehead.

None of them looked trustworthy.

“Good evening, Mr. Sylus! I see you brought a friend”, the buff man says with a tone that perhaps held a little too much arrogance. “Quite the beautiful lady.”

Sylus pulls a chair for you then sits down himself, next to you, taking space not only with his body, but his aura. The air felt a little electric around him, your senses picking up danger flowing of off him just like his intoxicating perfume.

“You may start”, is the only thing he tells them.

Without other setbacks they start presenting what they called ‘very very high grade protocores’ that were obtained in their labs – those didn’t look very high grade. They then started to present the weapons they used them on, how they were the best on the market and so on and so forth. Half way in their speech you zoomed out for a while. The deal was quite simple to understand – they were selling the protocores, weapons and some labs. But there was some missing plot in their fairytale.

The labs were supposed to be very safe and have top technology. Especially, if they used it to enhance and put into weapons as advanced as they were claiming. The personnel of the labs should be composed of top-notch scientists for everything to go this well. Looking at them and what they brought… this was very unlikely. Not to say how much it would cost to have one such lab…

At your core, you were a very logic person or, at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. So, if someone says something, they should bring proof. If you want to sell something that promises so much, you should prove that it’s so efficient – reports. You bet that the blonde guy was one of those so called ‘scientists’ and the files in front of him are the reports regarding the protocores and weapons. You would love to read those.

It wasn’t only the useless talk that wore your patience thin, but the looks the buff man gave you. Your suit and turtleneck were nothing short of decent. He was looking at you like you wore a minidress and poured chocolate on yourself.

Sylus sits relaxed in his seat looking at you from time to time. Your face gives away no emotion, but your eyes were talking. He could see that discomfort was starting to make itself known inside of you by the way you were blinking less, your eyes locked on those two morons in front. The white-haired man wanted to see your assertiveness, how you bite while keeping your voice low.

He knew the deal was bullshit, but he wanted to see you work, keep afloat and ultimately win. He needed to get you out of your shell.

“I think my friend has something to say”, are the words that slip past Sylus’s lips, slightly mortifying you.

“I think that some written proof of this efficiency would make what you say more believable.”, you say trying to keep your composure.

The blonde looks unsettled at his boss who no longer looks at you with perverted thoughts. A scowl blooms on his face.

“How about a pretty girl like you just listens to what us men talk? Stress causes wrinkles, I heard”

“It seems that you might know more about wrinkles than protocores. This doesn’t raise your credibility, though.”

A chuckle can be heard from your left from Sylus.

You don’t know what look did Sylus give them, however it doesn’t really matter as the files find themselves in your hands.

It takes a while to understand them completely, but when you do… they are laughable.

“It might have been alright, if what you’ve brought here today was the real thing, but…reading this I see that you are still making mistakes that are weird for such good scientists. The major problem – actually, one of the major problems – is that you are altering them in unsafe conditions at unsafe rates. You are forcing low grade ones to try and pass them as high grade, while making them unstable. These are real time bombs, nothing else."

Your words sealed their fate. Not only was the deal a bad one, but their intent was to fool him. That wouldn’t do.

Sylus signaled you to leave, which you are very happy to. There are no questions about what happened after you left as gunshots were heard down the hall.

--------

tags: @m00njinnie @allura-miss @phisen

[lightsabergirl]

@genopsychos thanks for asking about lightsaber colours! now I get to yap about them lol

welcome to my NOT simplified list of my interpretation of lightsaber colours (based on the the interpretation that lightsaber colours depend on ones relationship with/interpretation of the force)

warning: if you prefer the theory that lightsaber colours don't mean anything in particular this post is not for you! if you prefer that that's totally cool, I just think that's boring lol

if we take the fact that the three most recognizable and common lightsabers are blue, red and green and base the rest of the colours off of these three "force mindsets" we can make a whole fun range of perspectives! which I love because it allows more freedom for self expression among Jedi :)

so! for a visual aid I use a color wheel

so far these guys are canon :

💙 blue = prefers most to use means of physical combat to solve problems, they can be powerful in the force but they like to use their lightsaber first (I don't blame em)

💚 green = prefers to rely on their force abilities before relying on combative means to solve problems, they usually meditate before making any rash decisions and value the will and their connection to the force very much

♥️ red = a crystal that was bleed, that means that the user has taken the crystal and put all their intense negative emotions into it. hate, anger and grief are all emotions that are used in the process. this is actually surprisingly difficult to do depending on how intense your emotions are at the time, it's also possible to crack your crystal if you bleed it to much, you'd need a modified saber like Kylo Ren if that's the case (if you keep cracking it tho, you'd blow up and die sooo yeah)

💛 yellow = values academia and non Jedi related skills more, they might learn slicing (hacking), code cracking it literally any practical skill, they make the best spies and you're about as likely to see a yellow lightsaber as you are to see a purple one, not because they're that rare to have but because they rarely get to the point where they gotta use em

💜 purple = best described as the middle point between blue and red, an extremely rare balance between the light and dark sides, if the light side is walking and the dark side is running this is speed walking, way harder to do than you think, also these guys are huge gatekeepers and for good reason, you could become consumed by the dark side very fast

🤍 white = a healed red crystal, it usually says a lot about your character seeing as it's not easy to heal something that was so corrupted. characters with white lightsabers usually are a little unorthodox and defer from the more traditional way of the Jedi, that said a Jedi in the order can have this color

🧡 orange = dark jedi most likely this one's a little iffy, it's not possible to 'half bleed a crystal' (in canon anyways but I got my theories), similarly to white crystal users, these Jedi are very separate to the traditional Jedi, except these guys are a little more towards the dark side, not like purple lightsabers where they dance on the line, they kinda just stand next to it.

lime green: yellow and green, balance between force abilities and academic/practical abilities (thank ahsoka's shoto for opening the door to a bunch of hybrid color possibilities!)

let's get to the non canon ones now:

these are totally speculation and vibes

any color but a little more dusty ≈ a disconnection to the force

pink ≈ iconic girlie vibes

magenta ≈ pink and purple, girlie who can balance both light and dark

cyan ≈ green and blue so a balance between force abilities and lightsaber combat

I think the rest are self explanatory since the colours are just combos from now on.

welp thanks for reading if you got this far! 😁. im chill with answering more questions if need be

[wolfy-star1401]

if your comfortable with this

CG!Peter [Your boyfriend] and padded!Y/N headcanons?

CG! Peter {Your Boyfriend} and padded! Y/N headcanons

Peter is very chill about Y/N being Padded {whatever the reason like Necessary, comfort or both}

Y/N is very insecure about it, they doesn’t want to be seen as weak by anyone, fortunately Peter tried his best to reassure them

He always offers Y/N to help changing them, but he would respect their decision if they want the help or wanting to do it themself {https://www.tumblr.com/wolfy-star1401/771773880097488896/caregiver-peter-your-boyfriend-headcanon-he-one}

He made sure to have different types of padding for his little darling, like pull ups, disposable & cloth ones

The diaper bag, he brings along for outside outing. It looks like a regular bag {which is dark blue with red heart patterns} so no one would suspect anything

Poor Y/N gets extremely fussy when getting changed by anyone. Peter always gives them their comfort plushie or something to distract them

If that doesn’t work he would use comforting words to help them

It’s easy to change Y/N when they are asleep {probably deep}, Peter is very careful not to wake them up

He also makes sure Y/N doesn’t get nappy rashes

He mainly changes them on their changing matt

The Bathroom or Y/N‘s room on their bed are the most preferred places for changing places

There are times where Y/N doesn’t want to tell him if they‘re in need of a new nappy due to embarrassment

Y/N mainly wears dresses or oversized shirts, so he can make sure if they had an accident

Peter likes the scent of baby powder a bit, according to him it makes his little baby smell like one {very doting}

After he‘s done changing Y/N, he would pick them up and sit them on his lap, praising them for being brave while hugging them

@nottapossum @h3ll0everybby1 @i-ate-your-children @i-love-the-little-things @babyspace-sfw @dragon-queen21

[theblue6ook]

Other Lovers PT 2

Summary: Y/N and Rachel get to know each other while Bruce makes up for his birthday party fowl.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: This is a SLOW BURN, we are burning slowly. Stay tuned because, in the next part, Y/N’s fiance might not be her fiance anymore, and is Bruce starting to have feelings??? This is also a part of the Out of My League series. [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

Y/N and Carrie sat in Swan, the gaudiest, most expensive fashion boutique there was. It was way uptown compared to what they were used to, but Bruce had booked this as a part of her birthday celebration. Y/N, you can’t go to The Ocelot without a dress, he said as he handed her his platinum card. She called him a snob as she snatched it out of his hand, white in the face. I don’t even want to know the limit to this card if there even is one. Normally, she’d never let him pay for her, but… it was her birthday, so she allowed it, and he had pulled out all of the stops. 

So, over cheese and wine and dresses, Y/N sat and finally came clean to Carrie about what happened with Russ. And Carrie… Carrie was pissed. 

“Y/N/N,” she started, “Now you know I would love and I mean love to spend your birthday dinner with you. Obviously. But what the fuck?”

“Listen, Carrie, I just… I don’t even know what to do anymore.” She sat down her Riesling and shoved a piece of merlot cheese into her mouth, hoping it would numb the sting of her absent fiance. It didn’t.

“He’s your fiance!” she cried out, almost spilling her mocktail out of her hand. 

“It’s just been like this with him. He’s hot, he’s cold. Anything that has to do with my job or Bruce, he just loses his mind!”

Y/N had shifted the dress she was trying on to tuck her legs underneath her. They had been dress shopping for a little less than an hour, but she could tell Carrie was getting tired; she had her treatments a few days ago, so they decided to sit and eat. But now that Y/N had blabbed on Russ, it was like all Carrie’s energy came flooding back to her.

“Can I speak freely?” Carrie had that fiery look in her eye as she sat up straighter. She knew this was something Carrie had been holding onto for a long time, but she wasn’t ever in the mood to hear it. She wasn’t even sure she was in the mood to hear it now, but… she nodded anyway. “It hasn’t been right with Russ for a while.”

“Carrie-”

“Hear me out,” she stopped her, holding up her finger and a piece of cheese. “You know I love Russ; we’ve all known each other since high school, but just because you’re with someone for a long time doesn’t mean you should stay with them.”

Y/N shook her head, “We’re just in a rough patch.”

“Your rough patch started way before Bruce Wayne,” she said, sighing, looking at Y/N, “I’m not saying make any rash decisions. I’m just saying think about it. Think about what’s good for you.”

It felt like pins and needles were in her eyes as hot tears dwelled at the tip of her lashes. She knew it had been rough with Russ, but she hadn’t cried about it, and she didn’t want to. Pulling herself together, she inhaled. “What do you think about the red, backless one over there.”

Carrie grinned.

-

Everyone looked towards the large group of ballerinas that filtered into The Ocelot, entertained, and who was leading them? Bruce Wayne himself. His staff set his table to the left of the staircase, and ironically, so was Rachels. What a coincidence! Harvey Dent had waved to him immediately, oblivious to the past relations Bruce had with his date, while Rachel gave him a knowing look like she already knew what he was up to. 

Harvey stood to greet him with a pleasant, “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you tonight, Mr.Wayne.” 

“Well, it is my restaurant, Harvey,” Bruce shook his hand politely. He glanced down at Rachel, and it was clear she didn’t take the bait and sat patiently in her chair. “I see you know my good friend, Rachel.”

She nodded over at the ballerinas disapprovingly, “I see you brought some friends of your own, Bruce.” 

“She’s always scolding me,” he mumbled to Harvey.

Harvey looked almost disappointed, staring at the group of women, “We were going to see the ballerinas tonight.”

“Were you,” Bruce feigned a shocked look. “I’m so sorry. I offered to take them to dinner for all their hard work.”

“On a recital night?” Rachel said knowingly.

“Well, we can always push out tables together if you’d like to speak with them?” 

Rachel rolled her eyes, aware of where this was going, while Harvey quickly protested as civilly as he could. Placing her hand on Harvey’s arm, Rachel asked Harvey to sit back down and assured him she was sure Bruce had other places to be, but Bruce’s attention moved elsewhere. A tiff was starting not too far from them. The workers were trying to kick two women out; it seemed their reservation had been taken over by his large table. He couldn’t see the women covered by the large group of hosts gathering, but he could hear their conversation. 

“Are you kidding me? Bruce Wayne made this reservation for her himself!”

“You know what? Don’t worry about it.” He recognized that voice. Shit.

Mumbling, excuse me to a babbling Harvey, he walked over to the group of people in strides. Clearing his throat, it was like Moses at the Red Sea. The hosts quickly split down the middle, and all went silent, wide-eyed. The manager, whom he recognized before, became red in the face, but that wasn’t the red he focused on. Turned at the waist, there she was bare-backed, draped in red, and annoyed, as per usual.

Before he could get a word in, the manager rushed to him and blurted out, “We assure you, Mr. Wayne, it’s being handled.” 

She turned fully this time holding the arm of the other woman she was with, whom he could only assume was Carrie. “Really Bruce? The entire Gotham Ballet.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know how your reservation got moved,” he looked toward one of the hosts. “I want them in the green room. Not too far from my table, but far enough the noise won’t be a problem. Anything they want, they get. Charge it to my card.” 

It was like someone had released the doves. White jacketed, hosts and waitresses flew around wildly and without question. Grabbing place settings, table cloths, moving around CEO’s, politicians, and models. Carrie was in awe mouth open. Y/N couldn’t help but feel the same way. Everyday she worked for Bruce Wayne, she was shocked by the power he had. She saw his odd moments. She saw his darkcircles when he came in office. She saw him fall asleep during meetings. She watched him sit behind her and watch New Girl with her while she was on break. He claimed he didn’t normally have time for Television. 

Y/N focused her attention on him, “You don’t know how our reservation was moved, but you invited the entire ballet?”

“Listen, it was a whim,” he grinned.

“Does whim mean Rachel-”

“-and happy birthday by the way,” he cut her off and pulled her in for a hug. Her dress was silky under his fingertips as he slid his hands around her. His hands were cold against her hot bare back. She shivered in his arms, but accepted the hug and slipped her hands over his shoulders, leaning onto her tiptoes. Still hugging Y/N, he extended a hand to the woman Y/N was with, “You must be Carrie I’ve heard so much about you.”

Carrie took his hand, grinning at the two, “It’s so nice to meet the man Y/N has been bullying every day.”

He laughed leaning his head back, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Y/N peeked over his shoulder and spotted Rachel staring at the pair, “Oh is that who I think it is over there?”

Before he could say anything else, Y/N’s staring had caught Rachel's attention. It seemed to finally be the bait she needed to stand and approach Bruce… or should I say Y/N. Harvey, struggling to keep up with her, seemed surprised by the sudden change in demeanor.

“Bruce!” she smacked his arm mischievously. “How rude of you! Introduce Harvey and me to your new lady friends.”

She smiled over at Carrie, but the way she looked at Bruce and Y/N could only be described as suggestive. Y/N stuck out her hand to shake Rachel's. She took her hand in return, eyeing her small, dainty engagement ring placed on Y/N's left ring finger. Anyone else looking at the ring would have immediately noticed it was not big or bold enough to be from Bruce Wayne, cracked with time, and clearly a fake stone, yet she still raised her eyebrow at the pair. Bruce and Y/N noticed the shift and suddenly started interrupting each other, creating some sort of rushed mashed sentence.

“Oh, he’s my boss, I’m engaged-” “She’s my assistant, Rachel-” “We work together-” “I wouldn’t say we’re that good of friends-” “I wouldn’t say we’re anything above coworkers-” “More like work friends-”

The smile on Rachel’s face grew in amusement. Oh, to tease Bruce Wayne. “So you work for him? I hope you’re keeping him on his toes.”

“On his toes and in office,” Y/N gossiped proudly. “Though now, with this ballerina fiasco, I have another thing to add to my plate. I almost lost my reservation because of this shit!”

“Do I have to ask how this is going to affect you?” Bruce asked, and Y/N’s attention completely shifted to him.

“Do you have no common sense? The entire restaurant is going to have to shift their reservations. Who do you think the governor is going to be calling when he can’t get a reservation for his anniversary? You. Because it’s your restaurant.” Y/N turned quickly back to Rachel. “I hope he hasn’t been bothering your date too much.”

She shrugged, “I’ve known Bruce since we were kids. Trust me, I can handle it. It’s so nice to see someone else who doesn’t just fawn over him.”

As they bantered, Bruce looked at Carrie and just shook his head. She snickered. He should have known if Y/N and Rachel ended up in the same space together, shenanigans would ensue.

“I hate to interrupt,” he spoke. No, he doesn’t, Rachel mumbled to Y/N, who grinned at her. “Okay, I don’t, but you should probably sit down and eat before my restaurant closes.”

Bruce had taken Y/N by the shoulder, to which she rolled her eyes, and offered Carrie his elbow, leading them over to the green room. The walls were draped in a deep green floral wallpaper. It was eclectic, like nothing she would expect from Bruce’s restaurant, especially after seeing his family home. There was a large fountain, big enough to swim in, placed in the center of the room and decorated with tigers. A curious thing to have at a restaurant called The Ocelot, she thought. But that’s still not what immediately caught her attention when she entered the room. Their table was to the right of the large gaudy fountain, decorated with a tiered birthday cake, almost as tall as the table. She held her breath, and Carrie gasped. 

He was still behind her, but his hand slipped to her waist. The back of his palm was against the hot skin of her back, and his fingers traced the edge of her silk dress by her hip bone. With a wave of his hand, the servers lit the candles and dimmed the lights, illuminating what could only be described as a frosted tower of light glistening against the water of the fountain. Leaning, lips against her ear, he whispered, “I hope this makes up for earlier. Happy Birthday.” 

To be continued… @pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess

[mermaidlighthouse]

I want to talk for a moment (or a LONG few moments but…) about my special little angel face, honeysuckle, cuppie cake…Stede Bonnet

From the start of the season, Stede is desperately seeking a person who he’s afraid will think he’s not good enough, that he is somehow lacking. He’s afraid he blew his chance at real happiness because he was scared and panicked (as he explicitly tells Ed in Fun and Games) but there’s so much more going on here. He wasn’t just scared and panicked because they were moving so fast during all their time together- he DIDN’T KNOW what they were doing. He didn’t realize they were falling in love because he didn’t know what it meant to be in love.

He was scared that running away to China was just going to be a rash decision borne out of a need to escape - he didn’t understand his value in general but more importantly, in that scene, to Ed. He didn’t understand that the “You wear fine things well” moment was special for Ed - we see that he’s come to understand that NOW in the flashback in Red Flags. He didn’t realize that to Ed, Stede is special. In all the moments that we understand Ed has been vulnerable because he’s willing to open up to Stede, Stede doesn’t have our insight. Not because he’s emotionally unintelligent - I would argue he’s generally well aware of how people see him - the problem is that NO ONE has seen him as worthy before and therefore is very easy to undervalue his significance. 

If we look at all the scenes that we as an audience can tell are meaningful to Ed, from Stede’s perspective he’s either unaware of Ed’s motivations even though the audience is aware (the treasure scene) or can, through the dialogue or lack thereof, discount the importance because of his poor self-worth. For instance, in the bathtub scene, Ed specifically says he outsources the big job - Ed has told Stede he doesn’t kill people not personally - it implies Ed’s decision to NOT kill Stede isn’t all that big a deal or at least to a person who doesn’t see their value (Stede) it would be very easy to write off the idea that Ed specifically didn’t want to kill Stede. Stede is aware that the fuckery has been triggering for Ed - this doesn’t make Ed’s confession any less impactful but it does bring into question the reasons behind his decision to not kill Stede. For Stede, it can easily be explained by saying “Ed has just relived a traumatic moment, he’s currently dealing with a heavy emotional burden, Ed doesn’t kill people (he just said so) and so he doesn’t want to kill me because it would be further trauma. Ed didn’t even see me as his friend so I’m simply a random person who happens to be here.” There, a neat little box of reasons that has nothing to do with Stede - not in any meaningful way, he’s merely a prop in the story. 

On the cliff, that was the first time he was even aware he was having an impact on Ed in any sort of meaningful way. Ed had literally, just walked away, yeah he came back but it’s not that difficult to see how it seemed easy for Ed to leave. Ed opted not to be Blackbeard anymore ostensibly to save Stede but, Stede is aware that Ed’s been thinking about packing it all in for a while now. Stede doesn’t understand how big an influence he’s had on Ed. It would be easy to say that he did ruin history’s greatest pirate because he put Ed in a position where he felt obligated to save Stede. Stede knows that Ed knows that Izzy sold them out. Ultimately, Ed put Stede in the position of being found by Chauncey and his first mate made that possible. It’s not that much of a stretch to assume that Ed simply feels guilty for putting Stede in that position and is saving him from the firing squad because of that guilt. Stede doesn’t see his worth and can’t imagine that it’s him as a person that Ed is attracted to, that Ed adores. That Ed’s quasi- or Izzy’s direct involvement in bringing about the situation has nothing to do with Ed’s decision because that would mean giving himself more credit, giving himself more agency and Stede has routinely been told that he has none, he never earned his status and he never will. The things he enjoys are worthless and weak. 

Stede so undervalues himself that excuses for people NOT hurting him or saving him can’t be due to his appeal or importance. He’s unimportant, therefore Ed’s reactions and decisions have little if anything to do with him. 

This is the repressed trauma that he carries around with him, that he buries beneath the smiles and silliness. He has moments of working through that (“I am adequate”) but that doesn’t remove the deep-rooted insecurities. The fact that he gets up and smiles and allows himself to be silly speaks to his strength of character. The moments when the demons rear their heads are so impactful but the fact that they return below the surface doesn’t mean they go away, it doesn’t mean he’s defeated them. Is it healthy? No. Is it still so courageous? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s simply one of the strongest, most capable, genuinely wonderful characters BECAUSE he does all he does, saving the crew, working against his selfishness (most of the time), trying to figure out who he is and where he fits in the world while carrying this burden of internalizing his worthlessness.

[alneedssleep]

Loki Children Headcannons

Disclaimer: probably obvious from the fact I am talking about his children, but this is myth Loki, not Marvel’s bastardisation. 

Sleipnir 

Sleipnir is the eldest and is non-binary (he/they). 

They are capable of taking on a human form and, when they do, they act like a diva who drinks way too much and complains about Odin using him as a steed. 

If they existed in the modern day, they would absolutely dress like a young woman in the 30s – shawl and all. 

Out of all the siblings, he is somehow the one with the highest alcohol tolerance. 

Loki struggled at first to bond with Sleipnir because they were born out of r*pe (depending on how you interpret the only source we actually have on his conception, it could be seen as consensual or not. I personally think it was supposed to be non-consensual but, because the author was Christian, was vague about it). 

Hel 

Her dead side is only mildly blue and bruised looking like a fresh corpse when she is happy. It becomes more grotesque the angrier she gets. She becomes a full-on skeleton on that side when she is furious.  

Hel is a lesbian and occasionally dates some of the women who die and come to Helheim but doesn’t have a consistent partner. 

She is the youngest of all her siblings but ends up acting like the eldest because the only place they can reunite is in Helheim after Ragnarök where she is queen. 

Loki, Sigyn and Angrboda still baby her though. She will never admit to secretly liking it. At least, not in front of her siblings. 

Narfi 

He is trans. I don’t know why, it's just vibes. 

He is the elder of him and Vali.

He is studious and generally much softer and nicer compared to Vali. 

He is a user of seidr (Norse magic) which he learnt from Loki and even Sigyn a bit. This made him a target of teasing as a child since seidr is a girl's thing. 

He has his mother’s dark hair and darker skin with Loki’s green eyes. 

Vali 

He is gay but started off with a lot of internalised homophobia because he was teased for being the child of Loki, a notorious genderfluid in a culture that saw feminine men as a bad thing, and became unwilling to accept what could make him seem like a girl. 

He is a warrior and is prone to rash decisions, making him a lot like Loki. 

Vali and Loki have a bit of a difficult relationship since Vali is a mama’s boy but he is so similar to Loki in many ways (which a large part of him hates but the rest of him can’t help but love). 

He is very muscular with Loki’s red hair and Sigyn’s black eyes. He has a long beard with he braids and decorates with Narfi’s help. 

Jörmungandr 

His first word was “Ssssssnack!” 

He used to either curl up in front of the fire, against Fenrir or in Hel or Loki’s laps. Those memories are the only thing staving off his pain from being a land serpent in the cold depths of the ocean. 

He and Fenrir used to get into play fights all the time as a pup and hatchling and someone would always end up having to break them up before they broke something. 

He can speak in human tongue, but not nearly as well as Fenrir. He is also the only non-human child of Loki who can’t take a human form. 

Fenrir 

He is a cuddly teddy bear and used to sleep curled up in bed with one of his siblings or Loki, Angrboda or Sigyn. 

He was the gentlest of his siblings before being chained up. Even after that, he remained shockingly kind but became very protective over his family as a result. 

He has black fur with an almost purplish tinge and bright yellow eyes. 

He is able to change his size, going from normal wolf to “able to eat the sun and moon” big. 

He has a human form with long, thick black hair, sideburns and the same eerie yellow eyes.