#I don’t know does anyone else feel this way?

[cybrasigilism]

Thanos (Player 230) Smut Drabble

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warning: smut and all things of the like | lowercase intended | degradation | spanking | protection not implied (wrap it before you tap it) | PiV | reader has female genitalia | not proofread

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: thanks for 50+ followers! i appreciate each and every one of you so much :) i just wanted to say that i was thoroughly surprised with how many people wanted me to do a thanos smut drabble because i personally felt my writing for him was less than satisfactory, i’m just happy i was able to do him justice! also, my request box is open! if theres anyone you want me to write for please drop a request there!

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, readers discretion is advised

you and i both know damn well that thanos, player 230 himself, is an absolute freak.

it doesn’t come as a surprise to any of his partners when he goes absolutely buck wild in bed, dude is willing to try and experience just about any and everything just as long as it involves him inside you.

need him to go down on you? you may have to pry him off if you want his cock because he will get lost in the pleasure. he won’t even just eat you out, he’ll suck and lick on your clit while fingering you, working at absolute god speed just to make you cum. need to dry hump? he’s more than willing to let you grind on his thigh while he kisses and marks up your neck, leaving a cluster of hickeys and bite marks in his wake. trust he will be pulling your hair back to ensure you’re thoroughly marked up, not a spot on your neck left unscathed by his mouth.

when it comes time for you to please him, he will grab a fistful of your hair and guide your head up and down his dick, and rest assured that you will without a doubt be deepthroating him. he’s quite vocal when pleasing you, sure, but when the roles are reversed and you’re doing the work on him? such slutty sounds have never before been expelled from human lips, he’ll go on about how good your mouth feels on his cock, how impressed he is with your ability to take the full length of him between your lips. oh and god forbid you lightly graze your teeth over his dick, if you plan on making him cum through a blowjob god please use your teeth.

“oh fuck girl, yeah..that’s right suck my dick just like that fuck” and “god if you keep going like this.. i dunno if i can take it, shit.” are both phrases you can expect to hear, that’s if he’s too far gone to focus on degrading you. if his thoughts haven’t been totally clouded by how good you’re making him feel, he’ll make sure to mock you and be kind of a dick about the whole ordeal. “finally putting that bitch mouth of yours to good use.” “awe, is it too much? can’t take it? too fucking bad.”

when it comes to actually fucking you, it’s face down, ass up all the way. you’ll for sure be leaving the situation with a bruised ass from how much he’ll be spanking you. the hair pulling carries over here too, he’ll pull you back into it while he fucks you senseless, whispering filthy things all the while.

will 100% call you his “personal cum dumpster” and the degradation does. not. stop.

“how does it feel, huh? to be on all fours like the little bitch you are for me? bet no one else could make you feel this good, huh?”

“fuck, you’re such a good cocksleeve, holy shit”

“god, moaning like such a slut for me, didn’t think you were such a needy whore”

when he’s not spanking your ass or pulling your hair back, his hands are firmly affixed to your hips with such fervour that marks being left behind would not surprise you. the twinge of pain that comes when he digs his nails into the grip is something you find yourself waiting for. he knows you love it, to be honest i don’t think he would do any of this if it didn’t get you as wet as it did. trust he will also rub your clit as he fucks you like this, when you end up cumming, it might be too much to handle with how this man attacks your senses from every angle.

biting, scratches, hair pulling, the whole nine yards can be expected when you let thanos use you like this.

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thanks for reading again! you know the drill, any advice/constructive criticism is appreciated and requested! i’m always looking to improve my writing, and of course, more to come :)

[deonsx]

Hope i’m not too late to request 😭

but i’d love a sae fic where the reader is a very famous hollywood actress, and the content would just be her in japan with sae coming to that u20 meeting, coming to the match, cheering for him, being shown on the big screen while doing so, and fluffy moments in front of the paparazzi

and also how the crowd and especially how the u20 members would react to it all (sendou would be interesting since bro wants an actress gf so bad lol)

i’ve been binge reading your posts the whole day today and i just HAD to request 💕💕 thank you so much 🤭

hiii love!! You made it before the last hours, I loved this request have a good read (also the rq has already closed, thank you to my loves who sent requests still, but I haven't finished the ones in the event yet. I will be ready for a new event) AND THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS(｡◕‿◕｡✿)

Sae sat with the rest of the U-20 team during their pre-match briefing seemingly unbothered by the noise outside. But even his teammates couldn’t resist teasing him “Yo Sae care to explain why she is wearing your jersey” Sendou smirked nudging Sae’s arm “You’re dating her right You have to be. There’s no way she’d just show up for no reason”

Sae shot him a bored look “Focus on the game”

“But-”

“Shut up” Sendou groaned but didn’t stop staring at the monitors where the VIP section was being shown live “Man I swear if I had an actress girlfriend I’d retire from football right now. Goals achieved”

“Good thing you don’t” Sae replied flatly but his lips quirked up ever so slightly. The match began and the tension was palpable. Every time Sae got the ball the crowd roared but the cameras inevitably panned to you. You clapped enthusiastically leaning forward in your seat and when Sae’s shot curved perfectly into the net you jumped to your feet cheering louder than anyone else

The stadium erupted. Fans screamed his name but all Sae could hear even amidst the chaos was the faint echo of your voice. He looked up at the stands and found you beaming hands clasped in excitement. He allowed himself a brief glance just long enough for Sendou to notice

“Did you just smile at her” Sendou asked incredulously running beside Sae as they moved back into formation “Play the game” Sae said but there was a rare softness in his tone

The game ended with a U-20 victory. Sae dominated the field but the post-match buzz wasn’t just about his performance. The cameras couldn’t get enough of you rushing down to meet him at the sidelines. You threw your arms around him unbothered by the press or the dozens of lenses capturing the moment

“You were amazing” you said voice slightly breathless. Sae let you hug him one hand resting casually on your back “You’re loud you know that”

“You like it” you teased pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. The photographers captured every second your bright smile his subtle but unmistakable fondness. Fans online exploded with reactions some gushing about your chemistry others lamenting how ��unfair” it was that Sae got the girl of their dreams

Back in the locker room the teasing was relentless “I can’t believe it” Sendou groaned throwing his towel to the floor “She was hugging you Sae. Hugging you. Meanwhile I can’t even get a text back”

“You’re embarrassing yourself” Sae replied tying his shoelaces “I don’t care. Introduce me. Tell her I’m funny” Sae stood slinging his bag over his shoulder “She’s not interested in idiots” The entire team burst into laughter as Sendou collapsed dramatically onto the bench

Later that evening Sae and you managed to slip away from the chaos and grab a quiet dinner. The restaurant was discreet but a few paparazzi still lingered outside “You’re the talk of Japan right now” you teased swirling your drink “How does it feel to be the center of attention”

He leaned back in his chair the corner of his mouth lifting slightly “I could ask you the same thing” You laughed leaning across the table “Oh please. You’re the real star today. I was just a very enthusiastic fan”

“Too enthusiastic” he muttered though his tone lacked any real annoyance “You didn’t seem to mind when I was screaming your name” Sae’s gaze lingered on you for a moment soft and unguarded “Maybe I didn’t”

Enjoy!

[sugucvnt]

PERFECT ROLE | 2.7k

alcoholic! toji fushiguro x fem!reader

description: you’ve always been his perfect housewife. you’ve been there to keep the bed warm, keep the food hot, and there to cry when he’s been out all night drinking.

tags/warning: angst, crying, kitchen sex, clothed sex, mentions of drinking, implied alcoholic, toji's not a great husband but he is trying, REPOST (from my other account lolol), emotional sex

all of your days seem to start the same.

laundry, feeding your child, cleaning her room, etc. when you signed up for motherhood, you weren’t expecting the redundancy that tags along with it. still, even your bad days feel good and you couldn’t imagine trading motherhood for anything else. you smile a little as you tuck your last child into bed, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead before leaving quietly.

you have no regrets because you love your little girl. and sometimes, you love your husband too. the sound of jingling keys seems to snap you out of your thoughts and you huff out a breath, making your way downstairs. the stairs croak a bit, so you’re aware he knows you’re coming.

it isn’t written on your face, but you are rather upset. you’ve known your husband since he was a teenager- which means you’re aware of things he may not even be aware of. like the fact that he honestly prefers eating with other people. you’ve noticed the man goes a little crazy when you refuse to eat at the table with him. not just that, though, but you know the way his mind works.

toji doesn’t know what a promise is. or he’s got no idea what it means to make one.

he’ll make tons of empty promises that he never intended to keep in the first place, and then he’ll get pissy at you for being upset with him. it’s unfortunate, but you’ve always learned to just accept it and work around that flaw. until now, you’ve never allowed his blatant disregard for your feelings to send you into such despair. your emotions are a tool you’ve worked diligently to keep in place. it’s like a stone wall: they aren’t so easily broken or disturbed. not by just anyone, at least.  the only person who could disturb the artificial peace you’ve created to keep yourself sane is toji.

you’re barely near the man, still leisurely walking down your loud, wooden steps- but you can smell him.

cheap liquor. it’s all you’ve been able to smell this week.

“‘m back,” he calls, the shrinking scar on his lip pulling into a sickening grin. it seems so long ago but there was a time when you enjoyed his smile. there was a time when it brightened your day just to see the stupid little smirk he’d have on his face when you did something for him, or even when you’d wore a pretty outfit he liked.

“it’s late, toji,” you start, finally making your way down the steps and right past your husband. he barely feels like that to you anymore. “haven’t even had work this week but you’re out all night. it’s funny.”

you shoot him a quick glare before brightening up the kitchen a bit when you turn the stove light on.

“don’t be like that, i let you go out when you wanna.” he sits in one of the chairs in the dining area, a sly grin still glued to his stupid face. your eyebrows furrow and your head turns to look at him, your hand anxiously playing with the loose strings of your nightgown.

“let me? toji, you can’t let me do anything. i haven’t even been out to do anything but run errands.” another sigh escaped your lip and you feel like you might vomit. you’ve been up since 6, running errands, doing laundry, and making breakfast. not to mention, crying yourself nearly to death worrying about your husband. is he alright? why’s he been out so much recently? does he need to talk?

you’re worried out of your mind. it’s like your head’s been spinning and your thoughts aren’t even your own. so anxious, you’re nearly on the verge of vomiting daily. toji hardly even notices you said anything before he’s back to picking at the food on his plate.

“you promised you wouldn’t keep drinking.” he’s draining your energy day by day and you’re unsure if you can even keep up. your voice is merely a croak, fingers still widely tangling and untangling in the loose threads of your satin gown. you wanna say good night and kiss him on the cheek? even tell him that you aren’t mad, just worried is all.

you don’t.

you’re about to move past him. you’re tired and irritated- you need some sleep and a long bath and much to your dismay, he carefully grabs your arm. you’ve been with the kids all day. the kids you’d agreed to procreate when he promised a foolish illusion of a perfect family. you won’t regret your children- don’t think you could ever live with yourself if you did, honestly.

but you’re starting to think you chose the wrong person to start a family with.

he doesn’t speak. his presence is so subtle, it’s like he’s holding his breath. you feel a chill run through your back when he pulls you into his lap, attempting to have you straddle him. your energy, the rest of it, has been used up for the night. you don’t have the proper motivation to even fight with him. on a normal night, maybe you’d push him away a little hard and then come back to apologize. maybe on a normal night, you’d just bury your face in his welcoming neck without fighting him. maybe even ask if he’s okay. you wanna know. you gotta.

however, tonight isn’t a normal night. you haven’t had one in a while.

you have enough energy to turn your head to the side. you can barely stomach looking at his flushed face and wild hair. he’s as red as a tomato, with individual strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. you’ve been missing him so much that the images of how happy he used to look simply from being around you and your children flash through your mind, almost as if your own head’s mocking you. like your mind’s telling you how pathetic it is that you’re losing the family you built. going from a loving housewife to your husband’s burden.

does he hate you? is that why he’s been acting so recklessly? you’re no stranger to fantasizing about your life before a family. you often thought about a different career choice or how much free time you’d have if something, anything, had changed. that didn’t mean you didn’t want toji anymore, though. the thought of him hating you or feeling any type of disgust with you caused your stomach to churn painfully, embarrassingly enough. he was still your lover. always had been.

“you know how much i love you, yeah?” he whispers, the scent of liquor heavy on his thick tongue. his words cause you to flush with a bittersweet sensation. loves you? he’s constantly gone and making you worried. you can’t remember the last time he asked about your day or helped out at home.

you pout childishly, stifling an unwanted laugh. nothing about this is amusing to you, but you genuinely can’t help the laugh beginning to escape your lips. “yeah? then i don’t see why you make me worry so much.” you finally bring yourself to face him, tears awkwardly welling in your eyes. blinking them away, you subconsciously pressed your head against his. you can hear his breath hitch in his throat before his hands gently grip your clothed waist. you’ve been doing well at keeping your frustration with your situation at bay, but something about sitting in your husband’s lap just broke you. when was the last time you were able to feel his warmth? it felt nice. you were starting to remember just how much you missed feeling his body against yours again.

god, you were beginning to feel so needy.

“hey,” you hear him start before he quickly stops talking. you assume he’s attempting to rack his tipsy brain for the right words, but it must be difficult in his haze. still, he’s seeming to sober up in your presence. “don’t cry, please. not over me.”

tears still drip from your eyes, your body ignoring his words. how can you stop now? you’ve been crying all day. all week. he’ll never understand what he’s doing to your mind until it’s too late for the both of you. you’re constantly on edge, feeling like you’ll break. he’ll tell you something sweet, claiming he’ll stop or that he’s sorry- but won’t do anything to make you believe it. you’ve stopped trusting him and you hate that so much. hate how much you’re regretting a relationship with him and how far you’ve both taken it.

neither of you is ready to be together.

even then, you can’t leave. you have a child together. and secretly, even if you won’t admit it, you still love him. even if you’re angry and frustrated, and depressed- you’ll always love him. you’ll always be here, keeping the bed warm and keeping food on the table for when he gets home.

that’s one promise you can’t break.

“please, you’re hurting me a lot.” you’re trying to be honest. until now, you’ve held the way you’ve felt for as long as possible, only confronting him when the situation escalates. you’ve been a good woman. a good wife, for him. “i can’t- not by myself. please, toji. please.” you plead with him, bringing the back of your hand up to quickly wipe away your unwelcome tears.

even in the dim light, you can tell how much his face drops seeing you cry. you’re aware of how his mouth opens, but then quickly shuts. his eyes find yours and his hands squeeze your waist a little. nothing is stopping you from releasing a low groan, so you do. poking your lip out while you watched, or rather felt, for his every move.

he presses a chaste kiss to your neck and suddenly, you can’t remember what you were so upset about. the feeling of his scarred lip bewitches you and forces more groans from your lips. your body seems to move on its own, hips gyrating over his clothed bulge in a steady movement. your lips move to his neck now, your brain filling with fuzz while his hands travel over your needy body. goosebumps begin to form along your skin when he touches you, but he barely notices. it’s been too long since you’ve been touched like this.

“there she is,” toji pushes his strands of hair out of his face before gently grabbing your chin. his eyes are intimidating as ever, but you feel a sudden warmth when he looks at you now. the same gentle fire in his stomach you used to feel. it’s dangerous. it’s dangerous because it feels like hypnotism. every worry or stressor in your life seems to become so blurry they’ve disappeared. your feelings are surprisingly at ease, and shoulders that were once tense now drop lazily. “my pretty lil’ housewife. knew you couldn’t stay mad at me…”

his words should snap you out of your daze. they should upset you because now it’s clear he’s either attempting to make a shitty apology or distract you. despite your awareness, you’re unable to bring yourself to stop.

“yeah…” you breathe out hoarsely, attempting to roll your hips against his hardening bulge once again before he stops you, tightly gripping your waist. your head shoots up to stare at him, silently questioning him. his hands quickly leave your waist before silently fumbling with his belt and zipper. you suck your lip into your mouth and nervously pull your nightgown up to your tummy. the world around the both of you seems to fade away, the only thing on your mind now being your husband. toji, toji, toji.

you breathe out a cool breath, shaky fingers snaking down to pull your sticky panties to the side. your husband’s mouth pulls into a grin when he notices his effect on you, blowing some air from his mouth. you watch intently as his thick fingers wrap around the base of his cock. he glances up at you for a split second before he’s rubbing the top of his cock against your wet clit. you shiver, your chest rising and falling dramatically from such a simple touch. you can feel nerves surge throughout your stomach from both pleasure and anxiety, but you ignore it.

it’s painfully quiet, the only sounds being your soft groans and toji’s grunts. he slicks his cock with a mixture of saliva and your arousal before lining it with your entrance. once he pushes in, you can no longer contain yourself. your eyes water again from the stretch, but you’re still moaning. couldn’t stop if you wanted to. your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling to the side while bottoms out in your tight heat.

“been so long baby,” he whimpers, fucking whimpers, in your ear, the familiar feel of his hands now back on your waist. “missed feeling you like this so bad.” you can feel his hips thrust upward, fucking into you in swift movements while you just take it. you feel his cock drag against your sopping walls, the sound of your slick gushing not going unnoticed by either of you. it’s almost awkward the way you just sit there and take what he’s giving you.

his pace slows down now and then, the gentle drag of his throbbing cock sending waves of pleasure through your body. you huff out gentle breaths into his neck while toji has his way with your body for the first time in a while. neither of you feels talkative tonight given the tension, but you wanna cry out to him. your body’s been on fire these nights without feeling his cock filling you up so, so so perfectly.

with a free hand, he makes a gap between the both of you and presses his finger to your aching clit, causing you to cry out loudly. you throw your head back, finally gaining a bit of control. you leisurely rotate your hips, holding onto toji’s broad shoulders as a way to keep your balance. toji never stops moving. he never stops fucking himself inside of you, one hand gripping your ass while the other gently presses down on your clit.

you know he isn’t good at apologies. is this his way of apologizing? you can’t help but wonder.

he could feel your walls gripping him like you were too afraid to let go- and it was driving him insane. you could tell as much, groaning from the way he throbbed inside of you. “gripping me like-” he stops and grunts, pace quickening once again. you can hear the sound of his cock pounding you, along with the sound of your slick continuing to escape your pussy. it’s almost too much, really. “like you want another baby. do you? you wan’ another, hm?”

goodness, no. you don’t need another child in this situation. you wouldn’t be ready and you know he wouldn’t be either. despite that fact, the fantasy of him pumping more children into you was starting to force a reaction from you. your toes clenched tightly while you rode his cock, pulling yourself off a bit before sliding down quickly. the nerves in your stomach were out of control and you broke out in chills. you were almost there. you buried your face in his shoulder while you moaned, riding out your quiet orgasm. his fingers sped on your aching clit, encouraging you to use him for your own pleasure. he was so lovely in bed.

toji whispered how much of a good girl you were for him before he found himself painting your walls in thick ropes of hot cum. he thrusts into you a few more times before halting, hands weakly wrapping around your hips in an attempt to pull you even closer.

he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was sorry.

“‘m sorry i haven’t changed.” his voice was croaky, you’d noticed.

“‘ts okay. won’t leave you. can’t.” your lips were pursed while you lay your head on his shoulder, thinking about your words. there was nothing sadder to you than your own desperation. no matter how this played out, you couldn’t see yourself leaving him. no matter how much you were regretting your marriage, you’d never leave.

you were realizing that maybe you weren’t good for each other after all. the toxicity of your relationship was nothing to laugh at.

but even then, you’d continue playing the role of his perfect housewife.

[puckinghischier]

Going off the exes to lovers w/ Quinn…

You guys are still in the same friend group so sometimes you still have to see each other during gatherings or in passing and it’s just little things that Quinn does or says that makes you realize you never fell out of love with him. Like he knew you were coming out on the boat for the day with them so he stocked up on your fav snacks to put on the boat. Or maybe he heard you were sick from his brothers so he insta carts stuff to your house. Just things that makes it blatantly obvious that he still cares.

oh he’s using every opportunity. you drank too much and need a ride home from the bar? he stopped drinking the second you ordered your third drink.

you mention in a gc you’ve been craving a certain type of food? it shows up at your door in an hour.

your friend mentions that you’ve been feeling homesick lately? your parents, somehow, mysteriously, found the money in their budget for a couple of place tickets to see you.

he would be so subtle, so nonchalant with it you don’t even notice until you look back. it’s like he never left. he’s always just…there. waiting.

it’s not like the two of you had some big, blow out break up. it was more so like you still loved him, but you needed to love yourself more. so you’re still friendly. you still speak when in groups together and you still frequent games.

but it’s like his presence in your life never really faltered, even though the absence is what you said you needed.

so one day, when you pretended to order drinks, you noticed the way his glass stayed empty as long as yours stayed full. you mentioned in a gc without him you were craving italian food, and for once, it never showed up.

you kept noticing all the things he was still doing for you, and against your will, your resolve cracked. you knew he loved you, and you still loved him, but you figured he’d quit paying attention after awhile.

but he never did.

and when you confronted him about it? well…he didn’t even deny any of it. he admitted to it like he was saying the sky was blue, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, why would i stop? you need someone to look after you, and i don’t trust anyone else to do it, so why stop doing what i love for who i love?”

his words were like a punch to your gut, because why, why couldn’t he have just said those things when you two were together?

“quinn, it’s not that simple. you just weren’t…there.”

that? saying he was never there? that made him angry. because while he may not have been physically there, he was always there.

“that’s bullshit. that’s bullshit and you know it. yeah, i might not have been able to be with you all the time, but don’t ever fucking tell me i wasn’t there, y/n, because i’ve always only ever been there.”

he points to your chest as he says it. his outburst surprises you, but it makes you think.

yeah, maybe he was gone all the time, but somehow your car always stayed cleaned and serviced, without you even realizing. maybe he was in a different country most of the time, but there was never a lack of fresh flowers in your apartment. maybe he wasn’t able to be on his phone all the time, but your voicemail was never empty, sweet recordings littering the inbox.

so yeah, maybe he wasn’t always there, but he was never really absent, was he?

as you stand there looking at a red faced and angry, but mostly hurt, quinn, you think…maybe he’s always meant to be there, clouding your thoughts and filling the ache in your chest you forced him to leave.

[cannibalisation]

every inch of me is full of pain

luigi mangione/fem!reader

idgaf how anyone feels abt the ethics of writing ff for luigi, ppl literally be writing for the worst individuals ever so… 🤷🏻‍♀️ and i will add that this fic is not a reflection or representation of luigi, i aim to humanise him in the ways the media won’t. tumblr pls don’t ban me 🙏🏻 (1.1k words)

caution. rpf, reader and lu have matching chronic pains lol, ambiguous relationship (yearnful situationship type 😈), flower symbolism, set before his incarceration.

THE grip held on your own palm is unbearable. The metallic stench of blood breathes through the crevasses of your skin. The pain of the wounds has generally died down now, leaving only the numbing sting of regret.

Luigi is asleep; you couldn’t bear to wake him up.

It was a deal the two of you shook on. If the pain was too much to endure alone, you’d let the other know. It was mutually beneficial, this relationship.

No, you weren’t dating; he introduces you to others as a friend, and you do the same with a racing heart. It was more of an oath, a pledge between two bodies, tied to the earth by a turn of phrase.

His body is warm beside you, rising softly with each breath. His back faces you head-on, the ripples of muscle and skin stretched with growth are prominent in the dim light of your bedroom.

A breath hitches in your throat. How domestic it is for him to be like this. Safe and content in the comfort of your bed. Normally you’d laugh at the scene of him swaddled up in the blush-coloured sheets—teasing him at the idea of the forget-me-not flower patterns. But now, all it does is let guilt pool in your gut.

Your hand trembles under the weight of your form as you press it against the mattress. He is safe here; you hope to keep him safe for as long as possible.

With a dismissive scoff, you pull up off the bed, and it squeaks under the release of your form. These thoughts aren’t good for your conscience; you'd hate to let it make you keel over.

The hallway is dark, but after the past month and a half of living here, you’ve become used to it. While you navigate the length of your apartment, an all-too-familiar pain builds in your lower back.

The winter weather fell short on aid when it came to your aches; you could only pray that the wind wouldn’t shatter you whole.

A faint light bursts through the kitchen curtain, leaving a hollow glow of orange. Regardless of the chilling air, the light brings warmth to the room. Non-fluorescent lights were always a must in your living spaces; they were the most efficient to your mind.

Green tea typically helped with the heated fuss of pain, but you had forgotten to grab some during your last stop at the grocery store. Luigi had been kind enough to offer to go and purchase some for you, but you had declined. It was a rainy day when he did; you wouldn’t ask him to go forth into it just because of your poor decisions.

The effects are more placebo-like in your mind anyway.

Cinnamon has always been a common item in your pantry, on account of your mother’s teachings. Paired with the acidic juice of a lemon, the tea proves worthy to combat the stir of aches and pains.

The water will take a few minutes to boil, and even then it will be too loud. Perhaps it would be best to have lukewarm tea, just so the squeal of the kettle doesn’t wake Luigi up.

He bears a similar inflection to you. That’s really the main reason as to why you both get along so well. There’s a reciprocal understanding, one that is unknown to everyone else. You don’t expect anyone else to be aware of it—nor do you want them to be.

No words have to be shared for the pair of you to understand.

The moment the kettle starts to let out a faint whistle, you pull it off of the stove.

A rich aroma of cinnamon fills the space, and you already start to feel the tension leave your spine. As you reach out for the handle of the refrigerator door, a pair of mellow footsteps sounds out from the dark hallway. Despite your mindful precautions, you still somehow managed to wake him up.

The jug of milk is heavy in your grasp as you briefly lock eyes. His are sleep-ridden and squinty; it almost causes a smile to form on your face.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

The hushed tone leaves your throat, croaky with lack of use. Luigi stands to the side of you, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. The shirt he has on is straining over his shoulders; it’s one you recognise as yours. He had a habit of raiding your wardrobe whenever he was over.

“You should’ve.” Was all he said back, voice equally as quiet. From the corner of your eye, you see as he brushes a hand through his messy curls. He’s stood beside you now, lent down so he could rest against the kitchen counter.

In a show of guilt, you smile lacklusterly. It was a part of the deal to make sure the other knew when it got particularly bad—but something in your heart was telling you to act differently.

How would you know if he were to do the same? How many sleepless nights has Luigi gone through merely because he didn’t want to burden you with it?

The tea is hot against your lips; the cinnamon is overpowering, but you like it; at least that makes you feel something. The liquid is murky; the milk manages to convince you that it’s anything but a placebo-featured remedy. Hot chocolate would be nicer.

You tilt the mug towards Luigi as an invitation. He takes a moment to peer into your eyes, like he’s searching for something so specific it’s unseen to the naked eye. The eye contact makes your heart pound wildly, the intensity of his gaze picking at you like one would whilst analysing a century-old painting.

Unfazed by his own sudden actions, he takes the mug from your hand with a hushed “Thanks,” and you lean back against the counter. You subtly push at your sternum, aiming to quiet your racing heart.

Silence envelops the room once more, and somehow, you couldn’t be more at ease. Luigi has a knack for making you flustered but always manages to keep you sane. His presence beside you is anchoring. It’s a lingering feeling, warmer than any cup of cinnamon tea. You wonder, does he feel the same about you? Does he feel content, just alone, in your company?

The mug is handed back to you with a gentle brush of touch. He doesn’t flinch at the contact, so you don’t either.

“Lu,” you start, teeth tugging at your lips, “I’m.. tired.”

He hums, bringing his hand up past your shoulder. His fingers start to toy with the baby hairs at your neck.

He says nothing, and neither do you.

No words have passed, and yet, you’ve both said all that was necessary.

[kinardsevan]

2 + 49 for the numbers prompt

“This was a mistake,” Tommy mutters as Evan moves off of the couch, searching for his pants on the floor. The younger man whips his head up at his words and narrows his gaze at his ex, ire set into his expression. 

“Oh like that’s shocking,” he hisses as he finds his pants. “You need the god damn cover of nightfall to even call me and fuck.” 

Tommy gulps but doesn’t respond. Evan isn’t wrong. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” Tommy rasps after a moment when he stands. he pulls his pants back up and buttons them, looking around his living room for his own shirt. 

“That’s so fucking convenient for you to say, isn’t it,” Evan growls, stepping into his jeans. He looks over at the other man. “It’s a mistake. We can’t keep doing it. You’re weak and you just, what? Need me?” 

Tommy forces down a breath, keeping his mouth shut still. 

“But apparently not enough to fuck me for the rest of my life,” the younger man grumbles softly. “No, apparently I’m not good enough for that. Just one night stands now.” 

“Hey!” Tommy grips his forearm tightly as he spins Evan around, his face red and his jaw tight. It’s taking everything in him not to let the tears that desperately want to come to actually fall. 

“What,” Evan taunts, anger still laced through his tone. “You said you couldn’t be my last, but you clearly have no problem letting me think I’m good enough to fuck. So is that what it was the entire time, Tommy? I was a good place to put your dick? Work out the baby bisexual while I made you my god-damn human diary? Because you have all my secrets now and-…” His voice chokes off as his own emotions threaten to take over, rage ebbing off of him like steam after a hot shower. 

“Walking away from you is the hardest thing I have ever done,” Tommy rasps at him. “You think I thought you were just a good lay? You’re the whole goddamn package, and I knew I was blowing my entire life up the first time I kissed you, because you were never going to pick me. Not in the end, Evan. No one does that.” 

A small amount of the anger coming off of Evan seeps out of his expression, but Tommy shakes his head, glancing up at the ceiling to keep his emotions reigned in as best he can. Tears are swimming in his vision, and it’s all he can do to keep them from actually falling. 

“You think you know what you want, but six months from now-..” 

“I’m so in love with you that I went to bed thinking about what we’d name the kids every night,” Evan cuts him off. “Thought about what color we’d paint the nursery. If we’d have a two-stall garage or if that would even be big enough for the car lift and the muay thai setup. You think I was being hasty? I was bursting to keep it all inside, Tommy. A-and you think it was just bisexual haze? I never thought about all of that with anybody else. Not Abby, not Ali, not Taylor.” 

Tommy stares at him as Evan goes off, feeling stripped by his statements. He’s heard exes talk about feeling that way when they inevitably found the next person after him time and time again, but he’s never so much as gotten an inkling of it from anyone after Abby, and with her, it was never actually going to happen. 

“You say no one picks you, but I was fucking trying,” Evan tells him. “Not for five seconds, or a year, or two. For the rest of my fucking life. But apparently, that’s too hard for you.” 

Tommy’s breath is shallow as he steps forward, his free hand wrapping around the back of Evan’s head as leans his forehead against the younger man’s. 

“Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Evan,” he whispers, his eyes closed as the tears finally fall. “It’s the losing you part of it that would kill me. When I said I couldn’t deal…” He leans back slightly, his fingers wrapped around Evan’s jaw to push him back a few inches, although he doesn’t remove his hand. His gaze runs over Evan’s face and chest and back up. “It ends at you. There’s nobody after you. I don’t move on from here. I was just trying to find a way to make it out alive.” 

Evan lifts his hand up to where Tommy’s is still on his face. 

“Then meet me in the middle, and believe me when I tell you there’s never going to be anyone else,” he rasps. “And let me love you anyway.” 

[shoopsthereitis]

jegulus | 1k words

lil jegulus I wrote for a secret santa for a dear friend. sirius finding out about jegulus at hogwarts

“James, no,” Regulus insists, pressing a hand to James’ chest in the corridor.

“Come on, Reg, please? No one’s around. It’s late, and I haven’t seen you in days.” James knows he’s being reckless, but he can’t help it. He didn’t mean to run into Regulus, but when he spotted him during his Prefect rounds, he couldn’t resist catching up, feeling drawn to him like a magnet. He’s missed him more than he probably should admit—more than what’s acceptable for two people who’ve been secretly dating for four months.

It all started by accident. A few months ago, James found himself in the library needing to study, but it was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday. He wandered around, searching for a place to sit, and the only available seat was at a table with Regulus. Reluctantly, Regulus let him join, and by the end of the night, James was completely smitten. After that, hallway run-ins where James would change course just to walk Regulus to class, and Quidditch changing room chats became weekly occurrences, and it all fell together naturally. Neither of them had expected to fall for the other, so they’ve been taking it slow. 

Now, four months later, they’re still together, and James couldn’t be happier. But with how protective Sirius is of his brother, Regulus has insisted they keep the whole thing a secret. James gets it, but part of him hates lying to his best friend. He’s been trying to convince Regulus that they should tell him now that they’re serious. Thankfully, Regulus is warming to the idea.

“We could go back to my dorm? I think Remus, Sirius, and Pete are at the library,” James offers.

“After the other day when I was trapped in your room under the invisibility cloak, I don’t want to take any chances. I missed Potions because of that, and Sirius nearly caught us.” 

“But he didn’t,” James grins. Regulus rolls his eyes, the way James loves because he only does it when he has no snarky comment to say back.

“Anyone could find us here, we’re not exactly hidden.” Regulus’ body betrays his words when he steps closer to James, his hands reaching out for his robes. James instinctively brings him in, pulling their bodies flush. 

Running a hand through the soft strands of Regulus’ curls, he tips his head back, their eyes meeting. “Regulus,” James starts, feeling completely lost in his storm grey eyes, “I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

There’s a war going on behind Regulus’ eyes, weighing his options, debating the risks. Ultimately, he gives in, sending James a small nod before leaning up. The moment their lips touch, the rest of the world falls away. There’s only thoughts of RegulusRegulusRegulus.

This is what always happens with the two of them. They get utterly sucked into each other’s orbit, and are unable to notice anything else. Even the other day in James’ dorm, they were much too close to getting caught, not realising the door had clicked open until they heard Sirius and Peter’s voices. Regulus practically rolled off the bed, and James had to cough and stomp his foot to cover the thud of Regulus’ body hitting  the floor as he covered himself with the cloak.

“James, I missed you,” Regulus whispers against his lips, and it makes James' heart sing. It always takes a few minutes for Regulus’ walls to come down, but when they do, when he gets soft and open with how he feels—there’s nothing like it.

Heart fluttering from Regulus’ words and his body lit up from Regulus’ touch, James stops worrying about where they are. Unfortunately, he probably should start paying more attention.

“What in Merlin’s name is this?”

They pull apart, James whirling around to find Sirius. His arms are crossed, a scowl on his face, and he looks pissed. James has half a mind to run, but that thought fades when he turns and sees Regulus, whose expression mirrors Sirius'—scowl and everything.

“What does it look like, Sirius? I’m kissing James,” Regulus says dryly. 

“I can see that, Regulus. What I’m confused about is why it doesn’t look to me like a first kiss,” Sirius responds. 

James’ palms start to sweat. If there’s one place you don’t want to be, it’s in the middle of a fight between the Black Brothers. “Sirius, we were going to tell you—”

“Tell me what? That you’ve been kissing my brother? Cus it sure doesn’t seem like you were going to tell me.”

“I—we—the thing is—” James is floundering. He knows it, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“We’ve been seeing each other for four months. We weren’t going to tell you unless it became something worth telling. Which it has, so surprise! James and I are dating.”

Heart flooding with warmth, James can’t help but look at Regulus, likely with a dopey look on his face. Regulus’ lips twitch quickly when his eyes shift sidelong to James.

“Please don’t be mad, Sirius. I really like him. I wanted to tell you, I swear—”

“Prongs, relax.” Sirius’ expression softens into a small smile as he steps forward, placing his hands on James’ shoulders. “I’ve had a hunch about you two for a while. The way you look at each other? It’s not hard to figure out. Also, you’re not as sneaky as you think. I knew Regulus was in the dorm the other day, why do you think I droned on about nothing for an hour?” Sirius grins. “Honestly, I’m ecstatic. My best friend and my brother? How could it get better? Just don’t hurt each other, and I’m all for it.”

Shocked, James looks back at Regulus before his head turns towards Sirius, a wide smile on his face. 

“You’re really fine with this?” Regulus asks.

“I’m fine with it. I’d just prefer not to see it. And don’t ever lie to me again, James.”

James smiles. “Wouldn’t think of it.How did you even end up over here, anyway? This isn’t on the way back to the dorm.”

Sirius pulls the map from his pocket, waving it in the air. “Next time you try to hide something from me, maybe don’t forget we have a map that shows us where everyone in the castle is.” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk and James laughs.

“You have a map that shows you where everyone is in the castle?” Regulus blurts out in disbelief.

Whipping their heads toward him, Sirius and James share a sidelong glance.

“Shit,” they say in unison.

[empressdede]

The Lyon’s family Christmas

Summary: You lie to your mom and tell her that you have a boyfriend to bring home and begs your best friend Jon to come with you to meet your family.

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Jimmy x Y/N

A/N: Happy New Year and Happy Holidays; I am so so so so sorry that this is so late but I literally worked the entire holidays so this was the best day for me to release. I hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. Guess who’s officially back? 🙂💙

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As often as this was a reoccurring issue, Y/N don’t know why she expected the conversation to take a different direction unlike the very worn out route her and her mother usually seemed to take.

“Do you remember Trent from church? I’ve heard the younger girls were saying he’s single now, and I was thinking about inviting him to our Christmas party. I think he makes for a nice boy, don’t you?" Her mom asked over the phone. And there it was, the same damn conversation causing Y/N to roll her eyes. Thank God her mother couldn’t see her.

Her mom never knew how to stay out of her business, always going out her way to try and set her up with damn near anybody because she thought it was the most terrifying fact that her daughter was single at 30 and have been for the last three years now.

But Y/N valued her peace more than anything, and all her past relationships have not always bought her peace, just heartache. So she wanted to be very cautious her next go round because she was being very serious when she told everyone she only had one more relationship in her. She just wished her mom understood that.

Y/N let out a sigh, "Mom, I haven’t seen Trent in forever. Do NOT invite that boy over for no foolishness. Plus, he’s really not my type." Y/N expressed which caused her mother her scoff.

"And since fuckin when was Trent not your type? I thought you were trying to get with a good man Y/N?" Her mother questioned.

Exactly.

Y/N let out a huff in annoyance, she knew way more than her mom and knew that Trent was definitely not the way go. But she didn’t know want her mom to think she was trying to push at the conversation so instead of being honest, Y/N does the first thing that comes to mind.

“I didn’t wanna tell you like this but Trent ain’t my type because I have a boyfriend now Ma.”

Y/N’s POV

The silence on the phone made me more nervous, why the fuck would I just say that?

“You got a boyfriend? Since when you found a boyfriend? And why haven’t you said anything about him?” The questions were leaving her mouth like quick fire, barely giving me anytime to answer her. But I did the best I could.

“I didn’t say anything because I wanted to make sure this was something worth bringing up.”

“Mmhmm, and how long you’ve been seeing this guy?” She asked

“Five months now, but we were friends before we started dating. I’ve been trying to take it slow.”

Another beat of silence took over the phone and for a second, I thought she knew I was spewing nothing but bullshit just to get her to shut up.

“Hmm, well baby you ain’t getting no younger. Tell this man I wanna meet him, invite him to the party and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She finally replied, but her response took me aback.

“Wait- mom..”

“Great! I’ll see you guys next weekend, Love you baby.” And with a quickness, she hung up in my face.

I was left amuck, staring at the phone in disbelief because what the fuck did I just do?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In retrospect, you didn’t really have anyone to ask but him. You weren’t comfortable asking anyone else but your best friend - who has yet to meet anyone in your family, which was perfect.

Who else would’ve agreed to do this for you?

“You want me to what?” He asked, choking on the fried rice he was eating prior.

Okay, so maybe it’s going to take a little bit of convincing.

“Please Jon, you’re the only person I can ask and I feel like we’re close enough; we could definitely pull it off.” You exclaimed, a small smile on your face; trying to be as persuasive as possible.

Jon was not amused, for all he knew this was another one of your tired ass pranks that he refused to fall for.

“So you want me to lie to your mom for Christmas?” he questioned, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Why don’t you just tell her you’re single? I’m sure it won’t be the end of the world.”

You sigh, shoulders sinking in a bit. “She wants to set me up with some guy I haven’t seen in years. You know how I get with guys Jon and she won’t stop until she sees me with someone.”

You turn to fully face him with pleading eyes. “C’mon Jon, I already told them I have a boyfriend, who else am I supposed to ask?”

Jon watched you with careful eyes, silent as if he was thinking it over. You couldn’t help but keep your gaze hopeful as you guts sat in your living room waiting for him to respond.

You knew it was a big favor to ask but you would owe him the world if he could help you get your mom off your back.

The silence that filled the room made goosebumps litter all over your skin and the anxiety that bubbled in your stomach made you want to throw up. Just when you were going to tell him to forget it, Jon cut you off.

“Fine, I’ll go. But if we do this, we need to get our story straight.”

And just like that, the planning began, and for the rest of dinner, the two of you sat and theorized on how their fake love story came into existence:

Two friends who danced around the possibility of what could be till one night Jon stepped up and asked you to dinner and you agreed and you guys have been taking it slow from that night on.

____________________________________________

Two days after that, Jon surprised Y/N with matching pajamas for this impromptu trip.

“What kind of couple would we be without matching PJs?” Jon had asked when he dropped them off.

It made Y/N more appreciative of the effort he seemed to put into it. Of course Jon would play the perfect gentleman like boyfriend, who else would’ve did this for her?

The night before they had to drive six hours to your mother‘s house, you two agreed that Jon spend the night. This instance wasn’t anything new, Jon was your best friend and he slept over before, but something within your dynamic changed.

It was as if they were falling into the role of a loving couple for each other instead of Y/N’s family.

Jon sat on the bed watching Y/N finish applying her night cream, getting ready for bed.

“Is there anyone I should expect to give me a hard time?” Jon asked and you shook your head.

“Honestly, my mom is probably going to push you to marry me.” You joked causing Jon to chuckle.

“Well, if that’s the case, you ready to be stuck with me for life babe?”

The nickname caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“Babe?” You questioned and Jon sends you a shy smile.

“You gotta start the habit now. I can’t call you that when I get over there, what if I just randomly call you princess and you get flustered?” He slightly teased, and there was those damn butterflies again.

He was right though, they needed to fall into the role of a devoted couple because how else were they going to make everyone believe they were in love?

You playfully rolled your eyes, and respond back, “what if I call you, baby boy and you get flustered?”

At that, Jonathan laughs and shakes his head at you. “I thought you said you wanted it to be believable?”

“How is that not believable?” You questioned as you walks out of the bathroom and towards him where he sat on the bed.

You cupped Jon’s cheek and talked in a baby tone, “Who wouldn’t think you’re my baby boy?” Cooing softly in a joking manner.

Jon decided he’s had enough of your antics and stood up to tower over you. Your hand falling back to your side as you stare up at him, a small smirk slowly formed on his lips as he stared down at you.

“C’mon now, you really think anyone is going to see us and think you call me anything but Daddy?” He had lowered his tone on purpose, and just like that the playfullness was sucked out of the room.

Your breath hitched at the sound of his voice, taking note of how close you guys actually were. Why did he have to do all that?

You felt your cheeks warm up and you couldn’t be more thankful than you are now that your skin had a darker hue to it - but Jon didn’t need to see it to know that you were flustered because your silence gave it away.

His smirk grows, almost tauntingly as he stared down at you. Maybe he knew what he was doing to you or maybe he didn’t and just got a kick out of this, but you did not appreciate his little game.

“Isn’t that right princess?” Even though you knew that Jon was teasing, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your spine.

You squinted your eyes to glare at him, “You’re not funny Jonathan.” You hissed out but he only chuckled at you and shrugged his shoulders.

It was all fun and games until it was his turn.

Just to put the icing on the cake: Jon’s hand lifted up to cup your cheeks, “Say you love being daddy’s baby.” He cooed back causing you to smack your lips and slap his hand away.

Your nerves were still a little rattled as Jon doubled over in laughter.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny; you ready for bed or what? We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow and you’re driving.” You stated, walking past him for bed.

This is going to be the longest four days weekend ever.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The drive to your childhood home to Orlando FL, wasn’t so bad, three hours into it anyways.

When there was three more hours left to go, you became just a little restless, whining about how cramped your legs were starting to feel.

It went to show how much you really disliked long distant roadtrips.

“You don’t think you can wait another hour? We’re almost there.” Jon tried to negotiate but when he turned to face you and seen the pout on your lips, he let out a tired sigh and looked for the closest exit to stop at the nearest gas station.

You flashed him a cheeky smile, “Who knew you loved me so much?” You teased and he rolled his eyes letting you have this little moment because you guys had three more hours to kill and he’d rather you be in a good mood.

Another pro for stopping at the gas station is the opportunity to restock on snacks. After Jon filled up the tank, you both entered the gas station to look for whatever looked good enough to replenish you guys for the rest of the trip.

You both split ways to look for your favorite road trip snacks: Honey flavored chex mix, gummy worms and sunflower seeds since it was Jon’s preference.

Humming along to the Christmas song playing in the store, you went looking for Jon. Your eyes skimming through the isle looking for the tall idiot until your eyes fall on two figures: a girl laughing and holding herself up on Jon’s arm.

You raised an eyebrow at the scene, the feeling of annoyance swirled around in your stomach.

What the fuck was he doing?

You watched as the girl flash him another smile while fluttering her lashes in a flirting manner, and you couldn’t stop the scoff that left your lips. Your eyes squinted into a glare before an idea flashed in your mind.

It barely fully registered in your mind before you found yourself walking towards the two with the fakest smile on your face, “Babe did you find us some drinks?”

Jon turned to face you, a small smirk on his face cause he had watched you walk up to him.

The jealousy that burned in your eyes was very amusing and very apparent for him to see. If he didn’t know you well enough - he would’ve pushed his limit just a bit to see how far he could take it.

But knowing that they had three hours to kill before reaching Orlando, he’d rather not be in the car with an irritated Y/N, no matter how amusing it was to him.

Little did he know it was a little too late for that.

“Uh.. No, sorry babe. But we could go get it together.” He replied, and without bidding the girl goodbye, he locked arms with you to walk you towards the refrigerated section.

The girl watched with a frown on her face, as you guys walked away from her, and you couldn’t help but turn around to flash her a quick smile - almost taunting her before returning to face Jonathan, with the meanest glare, you could muster.

“I could’ve stayed in the car if you were going to be hot and fresh chasing hoes.” You gritted out once you were out of earshot.

Jon just chuckled softly, shaking his head at you while looking for your favorite drink. “She was just being nice.”

You roll your eyes again, “I’d rather you not insult my intelligence Jon.”

The frown was prominent on your face, and Jon couldn’t help the small smile that seemed almost glued to his face. You were cute he could definitely give you that.

A small chuckle emitted from him again as he walks closer to you to pull you into a hug. “You’re absolutely right princess, Daddy’s sorry.” He cooed, causing you to tense in his arms.

“Jon.” You grit out in a warning tone but he completely disregarded you. He lifted his left hand to tilt your head up to face him, and suddenly the air shifted between the two of you like it did back at your house.

“Jon.” You whispered out this time and he still chose to ignore you, his eyes flickering to your lips instead causing your breath to hitch.

“Jonathan.” You repeated, almost pleading with him and his eyes slowly traced up your face to lock eyes with you.

“You forgive me?” He rasps out; goosebumps littered all over your skin at the deepness of his voice.

“Y/N,” He muttered and you hummed to let him know you heard him. “Do. You. Forgive. Me?”

What in the world were you mad about again?

“Yeah.” You breathed out, hoping Jon with snap out of it, but he still didn’t let go of your chin.

“Good.” Was the only thing he stated before closing the gap between you guys. His lips pressed against yours and just for a second you both forget that this was supposed to be an act.

The butterflies that erupted in both of your stomach’s made the moment even more real for you guys. Your lips locked in a slow kiss, Jon’s hand slid down from your chin to grip behind your neck to keep you in place in deepen the kiss, just a little.

Your heartbeat filled your eardrums as blood rushed to your cheeks. When Jon finally pulled away, he seen how flushed you were, despite your darker skin tone.

He flashed you a small smile, “Was that okay?”

You nodded your head to assure him that it was more than okay. After the two of you finished up buying your snacks, you got in the car with childish grins and giggles slipping through your lips, both of you now in a way better mood than you were not less than 10 minutes ago.

You couldn’t help but secretly thank your mom for the invite to your family Christmas party because you don’t think you would’ve been here otherwise; and even though you’re pretty sure there is a conversation that needs to be had, maybe there was something to finally look forward to this holiday season.

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Lmao this was lowkey eh, but I did my bestest😭🫶🏾 Thank you to those who like and read it!

As always please, like, comment and reblog if you feel like and lemme know how you feel.

Tagging the lovelies: @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @blacst4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00

(If you would like to be added to my official taglist please comment and I will add you, and if you want to be removed, please let me know🤍)

[fxnharellll]

I haven’t caught up to Anna’s route yet on my slot but lowkey what was that…

Apparently there’s variations depending on VoG or WoD/ compassion/no compassion etc and I’ve seen ss for one path only so far.

I just don’t get why Anna, who has so far been presented as being averse to looking at women romantically say something like this ? It feels ooc almost idk. You could argue that she’s opening up slowly, and is still in denial over her feelings and/or sexuality and this was a way to open that avenue but it doesn’t feel right to me idk why.

using the word ‘recoiled’ and then saying she wanted to ‘wash herself’ is genuinely crazy bye. look, I would also recoil if someone kissed me outta nowhere (doubly so if I was struggling with my sexuality) but ‘wash herself off’ IS SO INSANE???? as if it’s a dirty act. and before anyone says anything, I know there are people have repressed desires; they can’t come to terms with themselves being attracted to the same gender and they could potentially feel that way. but oh my god, there has been no nuance in the way this has been handled. no deep religious trauma that could’ve molded her this way, nothing that could even potentially explain why Anna would see same sex relationships and attraction the way she does. (someone correct me if I’m wrong pls it’s been ages since I played my Anna route)

Lada and Tata’s budding relationship has been handled so much better. There’s questions from both and you can see they’re both new to this; Lada even questions herself if ‘it’s okay’ to feel that way but it makes her feel happy so she does what her heart tells her to. What kinda reasoning is it that an apocalypse can happen but heaven forbid u wanna kiss a girl

There were so many ways to write a kiss scene between them. Idk if I’m overthinking or if anyone else felt the same way

ITS SO WEIRD. this woman hates lesbians and bisexual players bruh i cannot.

(also hearing that fucking Boris appears today in a vision made me crash the fuck out)

[cherie-doll]

I have this brainrot for a while now

Which cod man would be the most husband material, who waits for the shortest amount of time before getting married? And who would be the one who would be fine with not getting married at all? And where are the rest of them?

How many kids would they want if they want?

I don’t need sleep, i need answers!😭

sorry for the delay my wifi is so slow, we just got a new batch of snow down here and tbh it might be affecting my internet

✧ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ᰍᩚ Price... he's PERFECT husband material. Cut from the finest cloth I'm SO normal about him. You've just observed his behavior closely and he doesn't do annoying things like leaving his clothes lying around on the floor or leaving unwashed dishes in the sink. He def want to get married, but doesn't wait too long nor asks you right away, he'd time it just right. As for kids? Maybe he could convince you to have one or two...

ᰍᩚ Ghost... he doesn't realize he can lowkey be a good husband. He thinks he's not willing to adapt to anyone, given how much stuff he's been through. A relationship isn't the worst thing he's had to go through, he's gone through worse, so why is he thinking about it so much? He doesn't want to enter a relationship with only half a heart, not mindlessly. But he knows his feelings towards you don't come from nothing. His feelings would have to be resolved before you even started dating, so that afterwards everything progresses pretty smoothly. And after marriage, kids? Maybe idk.

ᰍᩚ Soap... he probably had your entire life planned out before he confessed. He knew he loved you, was convinced he wanted to marry you and needed to have kids. So, he waited the least amount of time to marry you. There's lots of things he could improve on as a partner but the good thing is he's willing to make any and all of those changes for you. His respect will never run dry, he won't let desperation take ahold of him, always letting you know one way or another he still cares. It was up to you to decide how many kids you'd be okay with but if it were up to him... yk what better not go there.

ᰍᩚ Gaz... Perfect boyfriend AND husband material. He loves showing affection with the little things, a cup of coffee or tea and cuddling when you feel down or taking care of chores when you need a break. Simple things that he does on the daily that in the long run fortify your relationship. The amount of time he waits before asking you to marry him depends and it's all on how you want your relationship to progress. He's surefooted in his decisions so after the initial stages of the relationship when he's gotten to know you very well, your faults and what he loves about you, he just lets you know that if you want to take that step, he's more than ready to do so. He def wants kids, at least three.

ᰍᩚ Roach... oh my sweet boy ToT. He's such boyfriend material and in time will no doubt grow into a loving husband. He very deeply cares about your connection and how deep it runs between you both. The topic of marriage comes up at a very proper time in your relationship, it's when all he can think of is holding your hand every day, how comforting your presence is to him and how this couldn't ever revert into something casual. Marriage is a definite yes for him. Kids are something he wouldn't think of right away. Maybe a few years down the lane, and maybe one.

ᰍᩚ Alejandro... you made him wish impossible things. How you've made him feel, the sensations not only running smoothly over his skin but finding a way to penetrate deeply, to make him desire nothing else but a life with you. Marriage was the ideal way to continue living in that daydream. How he wishes the days were endless, so he can rejoice for eternity with you. If this was what made him wish to be better, then he was surely husband material. In time, he'd want to start a family with you, to create life, to have little ones to take care of. Three or four kids would occupy his days.

ᰍᩚ Rudy... is THE blueprint for all husbands out there to follow. He's very patient, his voice soothes you, could lull you to sleep. Always listens to you even if you rant, if you point out a flaw of his he works to be better. Never pushed you into doing anything, even when he could already hear the wedding bells ringing, he wanted you to make this decision on your own. In the back of his mind, he most likely already had baby names planned and asked if you wanted kids. He def did and wanted three. He thought it was the perfect number.

ᰍᩚ Phillip Graves... husband material at its FINEST. He's not only charming and a gentleman as a boyfriend but also as a husband. He just couldn't wait to put a ring on your finger so he did want marriage very soon. There is no way he'd NOT want children, he's just as much father material as he is husband material. I've said it before but he was made to father children and I will die on that hill. He loves going everywhere with his son, showing him how to run a company and then he gentles when his daughter is born, doing everything she wants.

ᰍᩚ Makarov... husband material at the core. Deep on the inside he can be genuine and want to care for someone. He likes having someone to depend on him, under his care, leaning on him for that strange affection that isn't found anywhere else. It would be hard to refuse him with the amount of gifts he sends to sweeten you up and coax you to accept his proposal that came too soon for your liking. But look at it this way, he'll always provide everything you'll ever need and want and in exchange you only have to agree to marry him, live with him and... kids. Yes, he wants kids. A numerous family preferably.

ᰍᩚ Keegan... is quite levelheaded when it comes to relationships so he's fine with staying your boyfriend and living with you or becoming your husband when you marry. He could improve on becoming peak husband material but you're lucky if he picks up his clothes from the floor and places it in the laundry basket instead. He thinks having no kids is better until you get a scare thinking you might be with child and he gets excited until you call false alarm. He felt disappointment and then realized he did want kids after all. Would be fine with just one but wouldn't completely be against having another one later on.

ᰍᩚ König... it's not him you have to worry about when it comes to marriage. He's got to watch out for himself because YOU'RE going to wife him up, otherwise he'd never get around to asking you to marry him. Not that he wouldn't want to but he's thinking when would be the perfect moment to ask and he's always thinking, "I'm going to ask them next date", and another date comes and goes by and then another and another... He'd learn to be so loving with kids you just gotta convince him he CAN be a good father. I don't know how many he could handle though.

ᰍᩚ Horangi... he's fun but he's prob best as a boyfriend. Not that he could never be a husband because he can, but he'd be completely fine with not marrying. If you're expecting him to bring up the question and get down on his knee for you... then you're probably setting yourself up for disappointment. It'd take him a while and you'd have to hint at wanting marriage, because otherwise he wouldn't mind just moving in together. I know I used to say he'd want marriage quickly but idk man my perception of him changed. He might get baby fever (rare) and he might ask for ONE kid them, but don't think he's the type for them much.

ᰍᩚ Nikto... if he does open up to wanting a relationship you've got to work with him on the long run. He might be closed off to certain things simply because he might not see a point in progressing in that field, but once he sees that you respect him and don't force anything, he'd def want to marry you. I'm not exactly sure how long he'd wait before proposing to you, honestly it all depends but once he grows attached to a person he wouldn't want to be apart from them so I'm guessing he'd tie the knot pretty soon. The topic of kids is something he's very hesitant of, he rarely gets baby fever, like ever. It'd have to be a lot of convincing on your part. But he might be okay with one or two at most.

[mylovesstuffs]

Hoshi is THAT type of boyfriend !

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Hoshi will randomly show up at your workplace with bubble tea and your favorite snacks just because "I was passing by, and I thought you'd be hungry. Also, I missed you." Spoiler: He wasn’t passing by; he planned it all day.

He’s that boyfriend who will drape himself over you like a warm, affectionate koala while binge-watching Netflix. You’re his personal pillow, and he doesn’t care if his arm goes numb—he’s not moving TT

Hoshi loves to tease you endlessly, whether it’s about how cute you look when you're annoyed or your inability to resist his pouty face. It’s all in good fun until you flip the tables, and suddenly, he’s the one blushing lol.

4. The “Look at Me” Type™, he will do anything to grab your attention. Dancing around the house in a tiger onesie? Done. Random aegyo attacks in public? Absolutely. But the second you look at someone else for too long? He’s all pouty and sulky until you reassure him he’s your favorite. Pls- he's too cute.

Beneath all the jokes and goofy antics, Hoshi is a great listener who genuinely cares about your feelings. Late-night conversations with him often turn into soul-searching moments where he opens up about his dreams and fears, making you fall for him even harder.

He’s that boyfriend who will brag about you to literally everyone—his members, staff, the cashier at the convenience store. "Did you know my y/nie can bake the best cookies? She should have her own bakery!"

When you do something sweet, but his ears turn red, and he starts giggling uncontrollably. Give him a compliment, and he’ll probably hug you so tight you can’t breathe.

Whether you’re chasing a career goal or trying out a new hobby, he’s that boyfriend who’s always cheering you on. He’ll show up to your event with a handmade sign and yell, “That’s my girl!” so loud that everyone knows exactly who he’s rooting for.

Hoshi doesn’t hold back when it comes to showing love. Whether it’s forehead kisses, random hugs, or pulling you close while you’re cooking, he makes sure you know how much you mean to him every single day.

If you’re wearing his hoodie or his favorite shirt, he’ll tease you with, “Wow, that looks way better on you than it does on me.”

He’s that boyfriend who can’t resist touching you—holding hands, resting his hand on your thigh during car rides, or pulling you into his lap when you’re too far away for his liking.

Don’t let his playful side fool you. If anyone hurts you or crosses the line, Hoshi’s protective instincts kick in hard. His usual goofy smile is replaced with a serious, determined expression, and you realize just how much he values you.

He’s the type to shamelessly flirt with you in front of others, only to lose his cool when you flirt back. One playful wink from you, and he’s a stuttering mess.

At the end of the day, Hoshi is that boyfriend who makes you feel like the most cherished person in the world. Whether it’s through words, actions, or the way he looks at you with stars in his eyes, he ensures you never doubt his love for you.

[omgahgase]

Charthur short

Charles breaks his bow and Arthur gets him a new very special one 🥰

hello there! sorry this lil ask took too long, and sorry that it's not short haha. i love the idea of arthur doing anything for charles bc He's In Love, so here's my take of their relationship before getting together. i hope you enjoy!

It’s a well-known fact in camp and by his friends and by just about anyone that’s asked Arthur for any help making anything outside his expertise of shitty knives:

Arthur ain’t no craftsman.

Yeah, he can chip away at a rock and wrap it around a stick then call it an arrow, and he can weave a basket—nothing else, though, that’s about as far as he can get without Jack or one of the girls aiding his helpless fingers—and, sure, he can tie up a piece of line to any broken branch and head on down to the lake with the world’s most God awful fishing pole, but the truth still stands.

If Arthur had to choose between crafting someone an item and not having it fall apart after its first use, or getting shot in the mouth…Well, then, Arthur’s making sure that bullet goes straight through his throat and out the back of his head.

So why, in God’s green Earth, is Arthur making a new bow for Charles after he broke his old one?

‘Because you love him,’ Arthur thinks, gentle in the same way his cheeks redden at the mere thought of Charles, in correction to Eagle Flies’ snarky, “I don’t know, you asked me for help,” that lights up a spark of irritation in Arthur’s gut, makes Arthur want to shove him off the log he’s perched on.

“This may be the most foolish thing I’ve ever done,” Arthur says, twirling the knife in his hand that’s speckled in his own blood.

He stares at the piece of chokecherry wood in front of him, the branch now thinner than when Arthur chopped it off and whittled it down to a poor, uneven shape that hardly resembles a stick let alone a bow. It took a little over a month to get the wood and then season it, this process he wanted to do himself because it’s special, Eagle Flies said, to put your emotions into a piece of Earth and ask the land if it’s okay to take a piece of its tree for his own desires—for Charles, his mind keeps saying. So he can’t screw it up unless he wants to start all over again. Arthur can’t afford mistakes, but his project laughs at him, it seems, and Arthur, finding himself comfortable in his frustration, wants to burn it.

“A fool in love is stronger than any beast or man he encounters,” Eagle Flies says, crafting improved arrows to Arthur’s right. He holds one up to his eye and stares down the line of it. “Your affection for Charles is deep, therefore, your actions are foolish.” He shrugs, and motions for Arthur to keep whittling. “Keep going. You're nearly there.”

“I almost lost a finger.”

“Your lover will thank you.”

Arthur feels his cheeks go from warm to uncomfortably hot. He tips his hat down over his eyes to hide the deep blush spreading over his face. “Charles ain’t my lover,” he mumbles, a correction to a hopeful assumption.

Eagle Flies only hums as he places his arrow in his pile and Arthur kinda wants to fire all of them into the distance just so his friend can feel an inkling of his annoyance. Arthur does understand that Charles will be grateful, however, no matter how shitty his new bow may turn out. Sadie gave Arthur the suggestion, said that it’ll take Charles months to construct a new bow while Arthur can figure something out and get a new one in his hands in less than that, and Arthur—with his squirrel brain that as of five months, two weeks, and six days ago (but, really, who’s counting?) hasn’t been able to keep Charles Smith out of his head—ran with it. He overestimated his abilities in the fine art of craftsmanship (and thinking with any logical parts of his brain when it comes to Charles) and damn near killed himself gathering everything he needed to make a bow.

Arthur sought out Eagle Flies not too long after Sadie planted the seedling of the thought in his head, asking him what it’d take to trade so he could get his hands on any materials ready for bow crafting. Eagle Flies, with a light in his eyes and a kick in his step, rattled off a list of items his tribe needed. Fresh berries from the West Grizzlies, wolf and cougar pelts, big game from The Heartlands, eagle feathers from the highest cliffs of Donner Falls. He even had to wipe out a few rowdy stragglers who were camped up too close to the tribe, something Eagle Flies said about his father not wanting to wander into outlaw affairs so Arthur best get the job done because it won’t be too suspicious if a Van der Linde boy does it.

After choosing his tree and setting it out to dry, Arthur spent the better half of the week hunting and gathering, putting his neck out on the line for anything that can make Charles a bow as good as the one he made himself, and by the time he had everything he needed in his possession, he was more bruised and bloody than a shitty bull rider at the state fair.

Arthur knows it’ll be worth it, though. If it means he can do something for Charles—and maybe crack a smile outta him, Arthur’s a greedy bastard down to his core and he needs to be on the receiving end of just one of Charles’ rare grins—then Arthur will gladly do it all over again.

He huffs, loudly, and gathers up the remaining incentive to keep going. Eagle Flies said he's almost done whittling, then all that's left is to string the sinew, and add little decorative designs along the shape of it because every bow is different, none is ever exactly the same. That’s what Eagle Flies told him when Arthur first started this journey.

‘Every bow is unique in its own way. Make it your own.’

‘But it’s not for me,’ Arthur had said. ‘I’m makin’ it for Charles.’

Eagle Flies only looked at him, wearing the same face Sadie wore when she gave him the idea. ‘Make it for him, then, but give a piece of yourself into every step. Put your emotions into your craft, and make it yours. Both of yours.’

‘Make it ours,’ Arthur reminds himself as he gets back to work.

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

One month, twenty-six days, and seven hours. That’s how long it took him to make a bow.

Arthur has more scars on his hands now than he ever did before he set out to make this gift, which granted him the full understanding of the saying ‘putting in the blood, sweat, and tears’ into something you love. Arthur loves Charles more than he thinks is capable of a man like him, so why wouldn’t he put in all his effort?

He’d do just about anything for Charles, that’s been established a long time, maybe even back then in Colter when Charles suffered from a burnt hand and Arthur did everything in his power to make sure he didn’t injure it any further. That was the start of it all, Arthur believes, and now in the present time, Arthur isn’t tending to his wounds anymore, instead, he’s tending to the ache in his chest telling him to do grand displays of affection. Like crafting an entirely new bow when Arthur is the shittiest craftsman from here to Blackwater.

Arthur sucks in a deep breath to steel the jitters in his hands, his fingers clutching at the leather wrapping of the bow like a lifeline, and walks a little way down to the lake’s shoreline. Flat Iron Lake ain’t that much to look at it in the daytime, the heat of Lemoyne making the sand feel like hot rocks and the water like a warm bath, but in the evenings, when the sun’s setting just right, a blaze sparks across the horizon, makes the bright blue of the water’s surface turn a flower petal pink, then a dusky orange.

It’s pretty, hell, Arthur would even say it’s beautiful, but he won’t. Nah, the most beautiful thing about the lake is when Charles stands at the water’s edge, his features painted in the ever-changing color of the sky, his hair long and wavy down his back, the outline of his frame strong, sturdy like a mountain, and just as gorgeous. He just stares out into the water, soaking it in, eyes soft in the setting sun, and Arthur can’t think of anything prettier.

Arthur swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, then, “‘Scuse me, Mr. Smith,” he calls.

Charles turns, his fair falling in front of his eyes when he sees Arthur, and, suddenly, it’s only them. Call it Arthur’s tunnel vision—hell, even call him crazy if it fits—but at the moment Charles fully faces him, the barest hint of a smile on his face (is he surprised? Arthur hopes so), the lake, camp, everything around them falls away.

“Hello, Arthur,” Charles greets, meeting him halfway along the shore’s edge. He stops just shy of a foot away, and Arthur has to resist the urge to pull him closer. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on that stagecoach job with John?”

“Nah, Martson can handle it.” Arthur clears his throat, then, before his brain can tell him to high tail it back to his tent, he thrusts out the leather wrapping. “I got somethin’ for you.”

Charles’ eyebrows knit together quizzically before he looks down as if just realizing it was there, his lips going all pouty in that way he does when he doesn’t understand something. “What’s the occasion?” He asks, gingerly taking the wrappings and undoing the ties.

“No occasion, Mr. Smith. It’s just—well, I thought that um—” Before Arthur can stop himself, his mind going from overly polite to ‘Don’t say anythin’ stupid,’ his mouth kicks into overdrive and rambles a string of words in a single breath.

“I know you broke your bow last time you went huntin’, and it’s hard tryin’ to find somethin’ like that in any ‘ol store, so I made you a new one—it ain’t as pretty as your last one—shoot, it probably don’t work much better neither, but I made it—for you—so I hope it gets the job done.”

Arthur’s head swims woozy by the time his words fall free, and his gut churns with anticipation as Charles looks upon the bow, his expression hidden by the shadow of the descending sun. Arthur’s feet are leaden to the ground, his hands trembling a shake so violent he hides them behind his back, and after a few seconds of agonizing silence, of Charles tracing the curved line of his new weapon with a delicate finger and tweaking the sinew strings, he lifts his head. Arthur’s heart jumps into his throat.

“You made this?” He asks, marveled, eyes the softest shade of brown Arthur’s ever seen on him.

Arthur clears his throat, manages a croaked, “Yeah.”

Charles just continues to feel it, grips over the leather wrapping of the middle part, and then, as if in a trance, his eyes land on the engravings just above. His thumb runs over it, gently, as if the bison might disappear if he’s not careful.

“You did this too?” His voice is so deep, so soft as if he’s speaking to Arthur in a dream that Arthur almost misses his question.

“Yeah. Eagle Flies helped, a ‘lil. Actually, he’s the one who taught me how to make it. I didn’t—I wanted to do it right.” The ‘for you’ threatens to barrel roll from his lips but Arthur swallows it down, forcing it to the back of his throat. “Bison are important to your family. So,” he shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalant when his body’s buzzing like a hummingbird.

Charles’ eyes land on the second engraving, a buck that sits just below the leather, and something in the way he spoke, like a gentle rustle in the grass, shook Arthur to his core. “Is this you?”

Arthur nods, steps a little closer so he can brush his fingers over the buck too, just shy of Charles’ own. “The lines took the longest. Almost lost a finger while doin’ it.” Charles chuckles, endeared, and he’s smiling, a small barely there upturn of his lips that Arthur wants to sketch and keep in his pocket forever. “Eagle Flies said to make it special, to, y’know, make it my own. It’s yours, though, but I still wanted to have a ‘lil bit of myself there. So it’s—it’s kinda like ours—in a way, I guess.”

Arthur bites his tongue, stopping himself from saying anything else that will make his face redder than a fire ant’s ass. He hopes the flaming rays of the sun can cover his blush, but even his luck can’t make miracles.

“It’s beautiful,” Charles says, so earnestly that Arthur’s heart drops from his throat and does a can-can number in his chest. “It’s like you’ll be with me wherever I go.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you, Charles,” Arthur counters, baffled by the thought that he wouldn’t follow Charles to the end of the Earth. If he asked or not, Arthur’s with him.

Charles stares at him, then, equally as mystified. “You will?”

As if Arthur would be anywhere else. “Always.”

It’s Charles’ turn to surprise him, then, by lunging into Arthur’s person with the force of a bolder. He hugs him tight, squeezes around Arthur’s shoulders, and tucks his face close to his ear. He doesn’t say anything, not until Arthur’s body catches up to his brain and he wraps his arms around Charles’ middle, holding on just as close.

“Thank you, Arthur. No one’s ever given me something like this, or ever treated me this nice before.”

“I will,” Arthur says, his voice muffled by the fabric of Charles’ shirt, but still holding so much weight to it that Charles steps in until the entirety of their bodies are pressed together. “You’re my friend, Charles. I would do anyin’ for you.”

Charles sucks in a sharp breath. “Thank you.”

They separate far too quickly for Arthur’s liking, the sun nearly gone behind the mountains and the moon already high in the sky. Charles continues to stare at his gift as if he can’t believe it’s actually his like he can’t imagine someone going out of their way to give him something as heartfelt.

(In the back of his mind, Arthur vows to break that train of thought, to make Charles believe he’s not just put on this Earth to hurt, but to live, and, hopefully, to love.)

But still, even if Charles likes it, Arthur still has to say, “Sorry if it ain’t as good as your old one.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Charles scolds, his eyebrows knitting together. “It’s perfect.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You and I both know my craftsmanship is shit. You don’t even know how it shoots.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Arthur. You’re more of a wonder than you think you are.” He smiles, then, closed mouth and so sweet that his cheeks bunch up under his eyes, and Arthur officially goes dumb. “Come. Practice with me while we still have light.”

He brushes past Arthur, up the little hill towards the small clearing near camp. When Arthur doesn’t move because he’s too busy reeling at granted something so small and special, something no one else in camp gets to see, Charles calls out to him.

“You coming with me, cowboy?”

Immediately, Arthur is next to him, standing so close their knuckles brush and a spark shoots out somewhere in the distance.

“Always.”

[fandom-go-round]

Hello! If you're still taking requests, I'd really appreciate it if you could please write some headcanons about Emmrich, Lucanis, Neve and Bellara dating a Rook who has pretty significant burn scars, particularly on their back, stomach, legs, arms, hands or feet. The scars are healed now, but they still consider them unsightly so they try to cover up as much as possible. I'd love to see your take on their reaction to Rook's scars being revealed to them for the first time.

Burn scars also come with a lot of complications like having to keep them out of sunlight, they often get pretty itchy and since skin regulates body temperature you can get cold super easily if you have significant burns. So if you want to include any of those factors feel free!

As someone who legit cannot be trusted around hot liquids and has scars from 2nd degree burns, I'd appreciate it, but if you don't want to write something like this I understand. Thank you, and I hope your day is going well!

Thank you so much for a Dragon Age request! I had a lot of fun with it!

Warnings: Burns, Talk of Burns, Previous Injuries, Implied Low Self Esteem, Implied Body Issues

Emmrich Volkarin:

As someone who usually wears layers when out and about, Emmrich doesn’t notice right away you’re covered almost always. He thinks of it as a personal style, at least until you’re exposed to the cold. It only takes one instance of fighting a desire demon and your hands to shake so bad you can’t hold your weapon for him to wonder. He won’t ask you of course, especially when Harding asks if you’re alright and you deflect.

The first time he sees your burns himself, Emmrich has a lot of thoughts. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, not meeting his eyes as you continue to make dinner. It’s the first time he’s seen you in short sleeves and without gloves; you had thought you were alone at the Lighthouse. He wonders where you got the wounds and how but instead, he apologizes for starling you and asks if he can help. You agree to let him help and it takes almost a full hour for the tension to leave your shoulders. Emmrich is happy to wait as long as possible for you to trust him.

The longer the two of you are together, the more you open up about your scars. Emmrich is willing to listen to anything you say and go at your own pace. He’ll go out of his way to buy you embroidered gloves that you adore and has no issues steering the others away from the topic. He’ll hesitate to touch your scars because he doesn’t want to hurt you but once you assure he can touch, he loves kissing your everywhere. Scars are a part of you but they don’t define you.

Lucanis Dellamorte:

He’s one of the first companions to notice, mostly because he has some burns himself. Not as wide spread as yours but Crow training wasn’t kind to him and he sees the way you favor warm over cold and how your legs get itchy after being in Rivani. Lucanis makes sure to cook warm meals and uses ingredients that help with itchiness. He’s a silent supporter from the beginning.

The extent of your scars makes hm angry. He has no way of knowing (at first) where your scars come from and assumes them to be a battle gone wrong. Spite often speaks of hunting the people down who hurt you and he’s inclined to agree. If he finds out the burns are because of an accident he’s going to hover more. If you’re this accident prone he’ll be your silent shadow so you don’t get hurt again. Tell him off if he hovers too much; Lucanis will find something else to help with.

He has no issues touching your scars but will make sure you’re alright with it first. He never wants to make you uncomfortable and watches for your verbal and nonverbal ques. Lucanis will do whatever he can to help you feel better; putting on ointment, buying you new clothing, whatever you’d like. He won’t let anyone talk down to you. He’s protective on a good day and if someone tries to say anything about your scars? His knife is already at their throat.

Bellara Lutare:

Bellara doesn’t realize you have burn scars until you take your coat off, wet from being slammed into the lake. It took her and Davrin combined to pull you out and you’re swearing up a storm as you strip. Davrin just teases you about losing your footing before going to find firewood. Bellara doesn’t catch herself staring until you turn away and she busies getting the camping set out.

She doesn’t bring the scars up until the two of you are alone, checking in. Mostly she wants to make sure you’re not in pain and if you are, she can make burn cream. Someone in her clan had burns like yours that bothered them. You’re surprised by her practical offer and kiss her cheek, thankful for her support. You take her up on the offer, especially when you end up on the coast. The hot air makes you super itchy.

It becomes a habit for her to help you put the burn cream on your back since it’s hard for you to reach. It’s a soft moment inside the normal day to day chaos. Bellara loves that you trust her enough to let her do this and gets to touch you. Her face is red by the end and you tease her but its worth all the teasing to see the soft look in your eyes. Once of these days she’s going to get her nerve to kiss you, she promises!

Neve Gallus:

Neve figured you were using clothing to cover up something. Most people don’t wear as many layers as you and it a toss up between scars or you really are that much trouble. The truth is, as always, a little bit of both. You naturally run cold but it’s more than that. The first time she sees your scars, she’ll admit she wasn’t expecting them. She knows that jobs can go wrong, she just wishes you were luckier.

She won’t talk about the scars unless you bring them up. She understands how it feels for others to judge you based on old wounds; she’s almost punched people because of her leg. Neve does go out of her way to get you warm drinks to hold and buys you long pants as yours get ruined. The detective side of her wants to know how you got the scars but she does her damnedest to keep those thoughts to herself.

Neve can’t help but kiss the scars when she can, almost without thinking. Clothes on or off, she’ll kiss the palm of your hand or rub your shoulder. Let her know if the touching is too much and she’ll back off. She accepts every part of you, scared or not. She likes the flustered look on your face, it isn’t often she throws you off. Neve can and will use it to her advantage.

[artist-issues]

Mufasa Re-Do: Zazu

For my first adjustment; Zazu! Zazu and his interactions with the rest of the cast.

In the Mufasa We Got, Zazu is supposed to be young, and comedic relief, because he is following Sarabi around like he’s on her staff somehow, because the rest of her pride was scattered by the villain. He doesn’t interact directly with Taka or Rafiki beyond flying in the same traveling group as them, and he has one interaction with Mufasa where Mufasa tells Zazu that he can save the day by using his bird wings to cover their tracks so the villains don’t find them. 

They’re inconsistent with Zazu’s characterization, and with what he’s doing in the story. At first, he seems to be dedicated to Sarabi as part of her honor guard, though she mentions he’s just her scout. That’s supposed to be funny, because he’s like a 1lb-bird claiming to protect a 200+lb lioness. But any time there’s trouble while they’re in the traveling part of the movie, he turns into a coward and darts into the sky with a one-liner about how he didn’t sign up for this danger. Even though he had no trouble “confronting danger” when it was Taka and Mufasa. Then, even later in the climax, he seems to lose all cowardice (inexplicably) and has to be rescued because he’s trying to fight three evil lions at once.

None of which has anything to do with the Zazu we know and love from The Original Lion King. 

He has one line at the end where he seems to be a stickler for tradition, which would be in-character for the Zazu we know—he tells Mufasa that he must banish Taka for betraying them. But uh…where does that tradition come from, and how does Zazu know it? He just got to this kingdom ten minutes ago. Also, THIS young Zazu has not demonstrated any personality-bent toward tradition until this moment. Basically what I’m saying is, they just needed someone to suggest banishment in that moment, and Zazu was luckily nearby and they could give him that line. It only fit his adult-characterization by accident. 

In the WHOLE movie, they should’ve been showing that he was a stickler for rules and pomp and circumstance. They should’ve been showing how he was THRILLED to be part of a royal lioness’ staff, and wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him. 

In the movie, however, I love one moment with Zazu, which was totally inconsistent and never gets addressed again, but they should’ve been focusing on it much more and it could’ve been great:

It’s when Mufasa encourages Zazu to use his wings to cover their tracks. 

This scene accomplishes 3 things:

1 - It gives Zazu a moment where he can be validated, and feel useful, as a young bird in the company of royal lions. That could be a real character beat that shows us how he got to the majordomo we know & love in The Lion King. 

2 - It shows Mufasa’s “superpower” as a character; he “respects all creatures in the Circle of Life” and can not only empathize with them enough to see how they can be useful—but he can INSPIRE them to work together for the greater good. He can make a plan, see how someone else can be delegated-to to put it into action, and then inspire them to get it done. You know. Like a good leader.

3 - It shows all the characters around Mufasa, from Sarabi to Taka to Rafiki, that there’s a different way to think; animals of all species can be useful. For Taka, he needs to learn that to become the evil-genius who thinks of allying himself with hyenas. For Sarabi, she can admire the way Mufasa trusts others, and see that they CAN be trusted.

The problem is? The Movie We Got doesn’t lead up to it well. Zazu acts insecure and uncertain, in this ONE scene, until Mufasa believes in him and gives him a pep talk. But earlier, Zazu seemed to have no problem with confidence and self-importance. The other characters’ interactions with Zazu don’t lead up to this moment well either. Actually, they’ve barely interacted with him at all. He’s just flying around saying one-liners to himself.

So! Here’s what I would’ve done.

Young Zazu:

Instead of being all-over-the-place with his characterization, I would’ve made Zazu an intensely loyal bird who thinks he can be useful to the Grand Scheme of Things. Unfortunately, he has way too much confidence in being able to do anything, when actually, he needs to learn that he;s just a bird. He can do some things well, but he won’t fit into ANY place in the Circle of Life—he needs to find HIS specific place. A place where he can be of the most service. (That’s a recurring theme in my idea for the movie.) So, first he thinks he can be a bodyguard for Sarabi, then he almost gets her and himself killed and loses all confidence—then Mufasa gives it back to him by showing him that he can be more useful in a smaller way. Like covering their tracks.

Zazu and Sarabi:

Sarabi’s father did leave Sarabi in Zazu’s care. But it was a panicked, spur-of-the-moment decision. It went like this:

Sarabi’s father heard there were Rogues hunting in his territory and, like a good King should, interrupted their illegal hunt and tried to chase them out. They happened to be toying with young Zazu at the time when Sarabi’s Dad burst in and fought with them. But he was overpowered, underestimating their numbers, and Sarabi’s Dad realized that his kingdom was about to be taken over. So in the middle of what became his last stand, he commanded Zazu, who was still nearby,  to go find his daughter, the Princess, and warn her to run away. But Zazu actually found her after she already escaped, on her own, and insisted that “your father left you in my care!” Then he won’t leave her alone.

And in my concept, she hates that.

 In The Movie We Got, Sarabi was very inconsistent, too, just when it came to Zazu. She’s like, “I don’t need anybody’s help— and nobody’s WOULD help me, anyway.” She acts that way with Mufasa & Taka, she acts that way with Rafiki, and she eventually acts that way when Mufasa wants to get help from elephants. BUT. She does NOT act that way with Zazu. Which is not only inconsistent, but ridiculous, because he is, again, a 1lb-bird, and making her consistently annoyed by his offer of help would have strengthened the story and given Mufasa more of a spotlight, by contrast, because he DOES value Zazu.

Anyway.

Sarabi should find Zazu bothersome, especially because she CAN’T get rid of him. He flies out of her reach whenever she tries to scare him away, but he never goes far, and he won’t shut up. At first. He’s convinced the King, her father, condescended to save his life and entrusted him with something important, he’s thrilled to have that mission in life, and he doesn’t (at first) care what she or anyone says to the contrary.

For most of the movie, Zazu and Sarabi’s relationship is one-sided. Eventually she softens her dismissal of Zazu into seeing him more like an “annoying little-brother,” (because they bond over Zazu’s brief connection to her late father + they spend more time together + Mufasa sets a more empathetic example and it rubs off on her.) 

Then they have one tense moment where Zazu’s bad-fit as her bodyguard really leads to bad consequences for Sarabi, and he loses all confidence, until Mufasa fixes that.

By the end of the movie, Sarabi and Zazu are friends and she’s come around to Mufasa’s way of thinking—all animals in the Circle of Life should be respected in their own right, and Zazu is their first example of why.

But at the beginning, it’s pretty tense. He insists he can be useful and she demonstrates how much she refuses to need help by wishing she could eat him.

Zazu is introduced to the rest of the group like this:

While Sarabi is slinking through the bush, trying to put as much distance between herself and her fallen kingdom as she can, Zazu won’t stop flying overhead, yammering. He’s talking about how danger can come from anywhere, and pontificating on what a good Royal Escort’s policy should be to watch out for it, and she’s shushing him but he’s taking no notice.

 Taka and Mufasa spot him flapping and monologuing above some bushes as they are making their own escape, and when they get closer, THAT’S how they find and meet Sarabi.

Taka thinks Sarabi is beautiful at first sight and tries to pounce on Zazu as soon as he gets the opportunity, kind of to show off and make an entrance. Zazu protests that he is Sarabi’s Royal Escort, and should not be eaten. Sarabi wants him to shut up—she doesn’t know if these two strangers are part of the Rogues that she’s running from, and she doesn’t want them to know who she is (more on that in my Sarabi-focused post.)

But Mufasa? 

Zazu and Mufasa: 

Mufasa hears that Zazu is Sarabi’s Royal Escort and he thinks that’s a great idea. He admires that she works with a bird, immediately. (Remember, in the great Lin-Manuel/Lebo M. Song, “I Always Wanted a Brother,” Mufasa admires birds for their freedom and ability to see more than he can?)

He shows how Zazu can be useful, and eventually convinces Sarabi that Zazu IS useful. This can happen more than once, but the best moment I’m thinking of is Zazu flying to get help when Sarabi is knocked out by the elephants. (That’s scene was almost strong, so I want to keep it.) 

Zazu does this without thinking, even though a moment ago he was downhearted and feeling useless after his Big Mistake Moment. But Mufasa takes notice, after getting Zazu’s message and saving Sarabi. He reminds Zazu of  his helpfulness as a messenger later on, when they need him to cover their tracks, and that convinces Zazu that he really is believed-in by the lions. Then Zazu goes to Mufasa for orders in the climax, further hitting the nail-on-the-head that Mufasa’s True Place in the Circle of Life, where he serves others the best, is as their natural leader.

Because he can see the respectable nature of all creatures, from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope. And it starts with Zazu!

Zazu and Mufasa are fast friends, from the beginning. This is obviously because Mufasa does more than tolerate a bird traveling with them, he actually laughs at Zazu’s jokes and treats him civilly—but he also stops Taka from eating Zazu.

Zazu and Taka:

The running gag for much of the movie is that Taka finds Zazu annoying, as one of his maneuvers to have something in common with Sarabi. Also from an early age, Taka believes other animals are only as useful as they are tasty, or maybe as entertainment. 

Zazu dislikes Taka’s presumption to always be walking alongside Sarabi. He keeps getting in the way every time Taka tries to put the moves on the Princess. Sometimes Taka comedically menaces Zazu, but once or twice at the end of the movie, to show how violent and bitter Taka is getting as Mufasa gets the spotlight, Taka really tries to smack Zazu around. 

Mostly, Zazu serves as a way for Taka to demonstrate how differently he and Mufasa think…and Sarabi is caught in the middle of the two worldviews.

Zazu and Rafiki:

Zazu starts out skeptical of Rafiki and even being a little jealous of him. He sort of unconsciously liked that he was the only non-lion traveling companion of Sarabi—it gave him a sense of special-importance. He also likes things to be proper, and Rafiki seems a little crazy, so their personalities don’t exactly mesh. 

But then I’d hint every now and then at the idea that Rafiki, in their travels, is teaching Zazu about the traditions of the Great Kings, and how lion prides have been run in the Pridelands. Zazu likes that, because in his mind he’s part of Sarabi’s nonexistent court, and now he has rules and regulations to insert into conversations with her.

This way, by the end, if Mufasa needs someone to suggest punishment for Taka, Zazu can believably be the one to do it. And it won’t come out of nowhere. It’ll feel like this was always where Zazu was headed, because now we’ve seen where he came from. 

[puckinghischier]

You know I got to thinking Nico would be so so comforting to you when you’re having an insecure day about your body. Maybe you are more on the curvier side and you feel like you don’t fit in and he could do way better than you, but he reassures you that he doesn’t want anyone but you

i fully believe nico would be the world’s best at reassuring you about anything, but especially something like this. because quite frankly…he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care if you carry a little extra weight here or there. he doesn’t care if your tummy is soft instead of toned.

nico is someone who, i believe, cares infinitely more about who you are than what you look like. he values your mind and your personality, your sense of humor, your kindness. so on days when you feel bad about your body? he’s right there, telling you he doesn’t care about those things.

obviously he would do it in a loving, gentle way, but he would praise your body as it is. he would praise your mind. your ability to love so deeply. the joy you bring not only to him, but those around you. he would assure you that there’s no one else on this planet for him.

you’re his girl. you’re who he wants to spend all his time with. you’re the one his family always asks about. you’re the one who has a stocking in his mother’s house each christmas.

and you have all of those things exactly how you are, because he loves you. he loves you for who you are, not what you look like (although he does love that, too). he’ll always love you, far longer than however long it takes your body to change, your hair to turn gray and your face to wrinkle.

and anyone who has something to say about that? he could care less. they don’t see you. they don’t know you the way he does. they don’t deserve to even be in your presence. so “fitting in” means nothing to him.

you fit with him.

you fit into the space beside of him in your bed. you fit into the curve of his body as he holds you against him. you fit into his daily routine. your hand fits perfectly in his. your lips fit perfectly against his. you fit him.

[undercoveravenger]

Calm

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Male!Reader

Requested: No

Summary: Former barracks bunny Soap coming to terms with having feelings for you.

Warnings: Suggestive, but no actual smut

-----

Johnny MacTavish has always had too much energy for his own good. He’s always had a leg bouncing or fingers tapping or something to tear apart and put back together during briefings, always been running his mouth during transits, always bouncing from person to person because he’s just too much for one person to handle.

He’s had a handful of partners through the years that get close, but no one that’s been able to hold up against his stamina. It’s probably why he’d become something of a barracks bunny in the last few years, shacking up with anyone who catches his fancy for half a second in an effort to curb his libido but he just can't get the same enjoyment out of it that he used to. The enthusiasm of the rookies eager to get a taste of him or the punishing way someone from upper command bends him over just don't do it for him anymore. 

None of them bring that same satisfying ache that you do. 

It’s the sweet way you hold him during makes him feel like he's not just a problem. Not some chore to be tolerated and dealt with and then pushed to the back of your mind to be forgotten about. It makes him feel like he's whole for a little while, at least until he forces himself out of your bed to start gathering his clothes, stumbling his way back into his underwear and cargos on numb legs and wishing he'd hear you tell him to stay but knowing that he can't let himself.

He can’t turn around. Can’t bring himself to check if you’re watching him - hoping he’ll come back to bed. Or worse, what if you’d just rolled over and closed your eyes? Ready to wash your hands of him and let him leave the way he always does?

He pauses then, shirt in hands and pants unbuckled around his hips. You’re the one person who has ever treated him like this. The only one who never bustled him out as soon as the sex ended or pushed him to stay when he didn’t feel like it. The only one who actually wore him out enough that he didn’t feel like he needed to seek someone else out for another round before bed. You’d always been careful to check in with him. Always willing to at least hear him out if he asked to try something without pushing him if he said no to one of your own requests. Always asking if he needed anything from you after.

“Why?” The question escapes him unbidden and it takes him a moment to realize it even came from him. “Why,” he says again, eyes fixed on the way his knuckles go white from gripping his shirt so tightly, “don’t you ever ask me to stay?”

It’s clearly not something you’d expected him to say, not from how long the silence stretches between you. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” You’re looking at him, Soap notices when he turns to face you, whether you were or not before, you are now. Lying sprawled on your side, with one hand propping your head up, and your eyes are fixed on his and he’s not used to the intensity - not used to someone looking at him like that instead of with wandering eyes even when he is trying to be serious. “Everyone’s always talking about how you don’t stay. That you just want a bit of fun and then you go.” You shift onto your back and your breath escapes you in a huff and Johnny can feel his chest squeeze fondly at the sound. “Doubted you’d want me pushing your boundaries.”

He’s not sure what to say about that. That you hadn’t asked because you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. He’d known you were a pretty stand up guy - there was a reason you were the one sent in to deal with victims or newly recovered prisoners, something safe about you that even a stranger could see. 

“And,” he says slowly, forcing himself to continue despite the pit in his stomach, “What if I’d asked to?”

The smile that crosses your features brings an unconscious one to Johnny’s own lips, “Then I’d ask which side of the bed you prefer,” you said, simple and matter of fact. Like him staying wasn’t even something you’d have to think twice to be alright with. 

Johnny nodded slowly, butterflies racing in his stomach as he thought about his options. How he could leave and go back to his usual habits and pretend this never happened, or how he could see how this went with you. He steels himself, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than he ever has on an op as he drops his shirt and kicks his cargos back off, moving to settle beside you on the bed. “Left side’s fine,” he says, grinning as he tugged the sheets back up over the both of you and tucked himself tight against your chest. 

If it gets him more nights like this with you, Johnny thinks he could certainly get used to the calm.