#I don't really think it brings me closer to my types I literally just like meat

[logansdoll]

jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

[appleblueberry-pie]

Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

[cutielando]

the fam | c.l.

synopsis: in which you finally meet his family

my masterlist

Meeting the family of your boyfriend freaked out every single girl on this planet, there was no denying it.

But meeting the famous Leclerc family? 10 times more nerve-wrecking.

Ever since you started dating Charles, you often found yourself nervous every single time he would mention his family.

It's not that you had a problem with them or anything, it was far from it actually. You just knew how close they were to each other and didn't want to intrude.

Charles had told you all about his previous girlfriends and what kind of relationships they had with his family, so you wanted to impress and make them like you.

Hence why, with 10 minutes before you had to leave for Pascale's house, you were freaking out and losing your cool.

"I can't do this" you told Charles, pacing around the living room with your hands gripping the roots of your hair.

"What do you mean, amour?" Charles asked, coming from the kitchen and seeing you having close to a panic attack.

"I don't know if I can meet your family. What if they don't like me and then we have to break up because they don't approve of us? I don't want to break up, I don't want them to think I'm bad for you, what if they think we're not right for each other?" you rambled, only stopping when Charles took your face in his hands and kissed you.

You melted into the kiss, your muscles slowly relaxing and the tension you had been feeling disappearing for the moment.

"Amour, my family already loves you. They've loved you ever since I told them about you. It's just Christmas dinner, they want to officially meet you instead of getting to know you through me. Maman sometimes tells me she likes you more than she does me" he said, the last part making you chuckle.

You've spoken to his mother on the phone a couple of times when Charles would call her to check up on his family, but this was such a bigger deal than just talking over the phone. You would be in her home, with her entire family. You were allowed to feel a little intimidated.

"I just want everyone to like me because I love you and I really want a future with you" you said, pouting a little.

"I know, mon amour. Believe me when I say everything is going to be okay. You have nothing to worry about, I promise. Everyone already loves you"

You nodded and leaned up to peck his lips once again before you finally decided to get ready to leave for Pascale's house.

Your heart, of course, still threatening to beat out of your chest.

♡♡♡♡♡

"Maman?" Charles called out as he opened the door to his mother's home, holding your hand and pulling you inside with him.

"Charlie, mon amour!!" the woman squealed as she set eyes on her son, bringing him into a tight hug.

Charles let go of your hand as he hugged his mother, leaving you to stand beside him awkwardly because you didn't want to intrude on the moment.

Once Charles pulled away, he came to stand by you once more and wrapped his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his body.

"Maman, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my mother" he didn't even get to properly get the words out before Pascale jumped at you literally, bringing you into the same type of hug she had just given Charles.

"Oh, it is so good to finally meet you. I've been dying to have you over for dinner for so long" the older woman gushed in your ear, making your nerves dissipate and you felt how you started to calm down and embrace the woman's warmth.

"It's nice to finally meet you as well" you said, giving her a wide smile as you pulled away from the hug.

She ushered you into the living room where everyone else was already seated, the chatter stopping when the three of you entered the brightly lit room. Everyone's eyes were fixated on you and Charles, all eager to meet the woman that had stolen the young driver's heart.

After introductions had been made, Pascale announced that it was time to everyone to make their way towards the dining room for the festive dinner.

"Y/N, I have to ask, how do you put up with my brother?" Charles' little brother Arthur asked as you all chilled in the dining room after the amazing feast Pascale had prepared for the night.

"Hey, I'm right here!" Charles said in a hurt voice, but he knew his brother was only pulling his leg.

"It's tough, if we're being completely honest" you joked, laughing when you saw the pout that had made its way onto Charles' face. "All jokes aside, I'm really lucky to have him by my side, he's a real gem and I can now see where he gets it from" you looked all around the room, your heart filling with love for the family that had so warmly accepted you into the family.

♡♡♡♡♡

As the night drew to a close, you figures it was time for the two of you to also make your way home.

"Thank you for having us, really. It's been a pleasure finally getting together like this" you told Charles' mother as you waited for him to finish getting ready to leave.

"Nonsense, you're welcome here anytime with or without Charles. We should spend some time together after the holidays, have some alone time without the boys breathing down our necks" she joked, making you chuckle with her.

"I would really like that" you said as Pascale handed you her phone for you to type in your phone number.

"Amour, are you ready to go?" Charles asked as he entered the hall, all dressed and ready to go.

You nodded and bid your final goodbyes to the entire family before stepping out into the warm Monaco weather. 

As you made your way home, you couldn't wipe the smile off of your face the entire ride over. Charles noticed this, which warmed his heart.

"So, how did you feel tonight?" he asked, squeezing your thigh to get your attention.

"It was amazing. Thank you for taking me with you" you smiled, taking his hand in yours and planting a kiss on the back of his palm.

"I told you everyone would love you, you're part of the family already whether you like it or not" he said, making you giggle.

"Oh, your mom and I made plans to hang out after the holidays pass, just some girl time" you told him excitedly, your eyes sparkling.

He smiled to himself, his heart bursting with happiness and love that the two most important women in his life got along.

Neither of you could ask for more in that moment.

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[toomuchracket]

tiny bikini (office nerd matty x reader smut/fluff)

day 23 of summer75. matty really loves his girlfriend's tits. enjoy <3

the first thing matty hears when he wakes up is the sea, crashing softly outside the apartment. the first thing matty feels when he wakes up is warmth, balmy heat sending the odd bead of sweat rolling across his body, even though he's lying on top of the bedsheets. the first thing matty sees when he wakes up is you, hair splayed out across the pillow like a mermaid, soft body curled into his and pretty face beaming up at him.

the first thing matty does when he wakes up is smile. how could he not, alone on holiday with you and the sea and the sand and the sunshine?

“hi,” you whisper, blinking (adorably) sleepily and melting his heart. “i think we slept in.”

“we did?” matty cranes his neck to look at the alarm clock. half 12 in the afternoon. “fuck me, we really did,” he buries his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo and smiling when you giggle. “reckon we needed it, though, after how mental things have been at work.”

“yeah, we've been busy,” you stretch, and matty does his best not to be obvious about the fact he's staring at your boobs. “speaking of - agenda for today?”

“hmm,” he trills his lips, mind racing through a rolodex of potential holiday activities. a gentle breeze brings the sea air into the bedroom with it, and suddenly the answer is clear. “we could go to the beach? only if you want to, that is, we can do something else if not, i actually don't mi-”

“baby,” you gently place your index finger on his lips to shut him up, and a sense of total peace washes over him. “that sounds lovely.”

he kisses your finger, a feeling of pure love bubbling inside him when you laugh and snuggle even further into him. there's complete tranquillity for a moment, nothing but the two of you entwined and the summer day, your lips pressed into his chest and his hand gently skimming the soft skin of your back, stopping when it reaches the base of your spine; after maybe three skims, though, the tranquillity is marred slightly by your voice. “for god's sake, matthew, just put your hand on my arse. i know you want to.”

matty feels his cheeks redden, a smidge of embarrassment at being clocked so quickly flushing through him too. but it dissipates as fast as it comes on when he sees the smile on your face, a smile he matches. “sorry, darling. s'pose it's the art critic in me,” he quips, obliging your request (with unabashed glee). “first thing they tell us is that we shouldn't touch masterpieces, after all.”

he grins - no, cheeses - while you hide your face in his neck with a groan. “oh, babe, that was awful,” you shuffle so you can rest your arms on his hard chest, looking up at him with sparkly eyes and the shy smile you only seem to give him. fuck, you are beautiful, so beautiful that it actually gives matty a little bit of a heartache; worth it, though, to get to look at you. “but i kinda loved it. and you. i love you. a lot.”

“i love you,” matty kisses your nose, heart healing completely at the way you scrunch it cutely in response. “my sweet girl.”

you hum contentedly, pressing your forehead against his. “time to get up?”

“yeah, let's do it.”

admittedly, it does take you both a minute to get out of bed - a series of kisses take priority first, the head-melting breath-taking type of kisses matty dreamed about having with you since quite literally clapping eyes on you at work - but you're up and getting ready within the hour, sipping lattes and eating grapes while you potter around the apartment. another forty-five minutes after that, matty finds himself stood at the end of the bed, waiting for you to leave the bathroom and preoccupying himself with putting extra cartons of sangria in the beach bag. “darling, you almost done?”

“yeah,” your voice gets closer. “not sure if this is the right bikini, though.”

“come on, sweetheart, you know you look good in any…” his voice trails off as he looks at you stepping out into the bedroom. “...thing.”

good is an understatement, actually. the understatement. of the fucking… ever. matty's seen you in swimsuits before, practically fucked the life out of you in your gold leia birthday moment, but this is next level - the shimmery, claret fabric looks gorgeous against your glowing skin, the high cut of the bottoms makes those fucking legs of yours look a million miles long, and the double-strand ties on your thick hips actually make his mouth water, make him want to sink his teeth into you and mark you up.

and that's before he even thinks about your tits.

when he does finally manage to tear his eyes from your lower body, matty momentarily forgets how to breathe. the two triangles of fabric on your chest are doing very little to cover you up, exposing an amount of soft underboob that would have absolutely sent him into cardiac arrest had he seen you like this six months ago. as familiar as he is with your tits, though, matty wonders - as best as he can through the lack of oxygen in his brain - if that's actually hindering his ability to function properly; the sight of the fading heart-shaped hickeys he left on your inner boob last week is sending him even more insane, a reminder that this fucking goddess in a swimsuit before him is actually his to know and hold and love.

the room spins for a nanosecond. when it rights itself, matty feels the mattress below his back, sees your pretty face contorted in worry - when his brain retunes itself a bit more, he can hear you frantically talk. “matty, baby, are you alright? did you faint? oh my god, we need to get you some food. hold on, let me-”

“angel, m'okay,” matty strokes your face, smiling when you visibly relax. “just got a bit lightheaded, is all.”

“why, though, sweetheart?” you shuffle a little, and matty has a momentary flash of mortifying realisation that he's fully got a boner and you're sat square on his lap. in a bikini. fucking hell. “you thirsty?”

technically, yes. “nah.”

your brow furrows. “then why did you swoon like that?

matty giggles at your word choice. “well… same reason anyone swoons, i reckon.”

“what… oh,” your eyes light up, so much that it makes the mortification of the situation worth it. “you got woozy because you… find me so attractive?”

“um,” christ. his cheeks are burning. “yeah.”

your smile widens, and you nod knowingly. “it was my tits, wasn't it?”

he's not quite sure whether to be even more mortified, or touched that you know him so well. regardless, he thinks, he can at least be honest. “it was your tits.”

“d'you wanna fuck them, then?”

for the second time in just over as many minutes, the instinct to breathe completely abandons matty's body - the nonchalance of your question knocks the fucking wind out of him. it also, he notes in some stupid horny autopilot part of his brain, makes his dick practically jump in his shorts, and after a moment or two he becomes vaguely aware of the fact he's nodding in agreement.

he might be too horny to function, but he's not stupid.

you lean forward to kiss him, tracing your tongue around his lips and smiling into him when he whimpers. “let me lie down, babe, yeah?” you murmur. “actually - be a good boy and undo my top for me, first, please.”

the praise shocks matty into movement, and he dutifully unties the halter neck and back string of the bikini top. when the fabric falls off your body, he's barely chucked it out of the way before he's mouthing at your chest, kissing, sucking, biting, licking up the sweetness that seems to radiate from your skin, spurred on by the soft moans tumbling from your lips; by the time he pulls back, guided by your hand in his curls, your chest is glistening wet, and - it has to be said - ripe for fucking.

“god, i love your mouth,” you beam, climbing off your boyfriend with a kiss and lying down. matty takes the hint and moves to get rid of his shorts, getting even more turned on (impossibly so) at the way you bite your lip at the sight of his dick. “fuck, babe, get up here.”

he obliges, cracked whine leaving his lips when you sit forward and lick up the length of him; when you take him into your mouth, the whine becomes a groan, the feeling of your lips and tongue and throat on him almost too much to bear. “shit.”

matty whines again when you laugh around him, the vibrations going right to his brain and chipping away at his sanity. luckily, he thinks at least, you pull off quickly, settling yourself back against the pillows again and pushing your tits together so seductively his knees quake. “well, matthew, what are you waiting for?”

there's no need to ask twice. compelled by something indescribable other than primal, matty takes a tit in each hand to guide himself, and slowly fucks the tight little space between them. “oh- oh my god.”

you beam. “feel good?”

“s'fucking amazing,” a bit more used to the feeling (what would teenage him think if he knew that?!), he speeds up his thrusts, gasping when he finds the perfect tempo to turn his brain to mush. “fuck, darling, thank you.”

“sweet boy,” you coo, hand coming to hold his on your tit; you whimper when he squeezes it, and the sound goes straight to his dick. yeah, he's not lasting long at all. “look so beautiful above me, fucking me like this.”

“you're beautiful.”

“gonna look even better when you cum on my face,” you smirk, tongue flicking out to catch the head of your boyfriend's cock when it nears your lips. the feeling has matty's hips jerking, has him moaning staccato; when you take the head into your mouth properly and suck on it like a lollipop, his thighs start to shake, and he moans so loudly that you hear birds in the trees outside take off en masse. of course, you love it. “you're gonna do that for me soon, aren't you, darling? paint me all pretty, finish your masterpiece?”

he doesn't even have time to warn you that he's going to cum before it happens - as soon as the words leave your lips, matty's finishing all over them, hips stuttering to an eventual stop as he cries your name and cums harder than he thinks he ever has before. you moan his name in reply as he does, sticking your tongue out to catch as much as possible and doing him in even more in the process.

fuck. what a holiday this is turning out to be. and it's only day one.

the thought, along with everything else that just happened, has matty bringing his hands to his face, lightly pushing his palms over his eyes to try and focus a little bit. which, in hindsight, is a really detrimental move - he opens his eyes to see you, smiling and beautiful and covered with his cum, and he can feel his cock twitch. thankfully, you don't seem to notice, too busy gazing up at him so adoringly he's actually feeling self-conscious. “did you enjoy fucking me like that, baby?”

“yeah,” matty breathes. “dreamed about seeing you like this, you know, darling.”

you laugh, and everything is right in the world. “what, my face all messy because of you?”

“exactly,” he smiles. “there's a partner dream to it, and all.”

“there is?” you shuffle onto your elbows, curious. “what happens in that?”

matty hums, moving to settle himself on his stomach on the bed, pretty head inches from your visibly-wet core. “i make you do the same to me.”

[cainsau]

Midnight || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Hughie Campbell x GN!Reader

Summary: You left something at the office, so you go back there, not expecting Hughie to be there too, crying quietly in the dark.

Warning: [Spoilers?] I like to imagine that he's crying about his dad (in S4E5), but there's really no mention of it, so it could be about anything if you want

Author's Note: The fic writer's curse is so real, i literally got a fever while writing this lmao

You never believed in ghosts, and you're not scared of them whatsoever, but it's a different story when you actually get to encounter one. For example: the faint cries from the other side of the door, you hate to admit, makes your heart beat faster. It takes a while for you to gather up enough courage and enter. Fortunately, there are no ghosts in sight, only Hughie, and yet your stomach still drops when you realize he's sobbing into his jacket near the window.

"Hughie?"

He takes a glance at you, and quickly tries to wipe the tears off his face.

You're reminded of an article from somewhere, stating that in this situation, some people would want to be left alone, while others would want to be comforted by another person. You try to guess which type he is, probably the former since he's sitting alone in the dark like that, but your body doesn't care and moves on its own, taking you closer to him.

"Are you okay?"

"No, not really, to be honest." He chuckles.

"Yeah, that was a stupid question. I don't know why i even asked." You let out a small laugh along with him.

He gives you a sad smile and tries to change the subject, "So, what brings you here?"

"Right." you head to your desk awkwardly, "I forgot something," you then pick up the thing you came for, showing it to him, "My charger."

He chuckles again, but it sounds a lot like sobbing. You're not sure whether to laugh with him or not. "You forgot your charger and decided to pick it up in the middle of the night? Seriously?"

"Well, yeah," You look down, at the rolled up charger in your hands, "My phone was gonna die. I didn't want to miss any emergencies."

You meet his eyes again. They sparkle with sorrow, reflecting city lights from outside the window.

"And this qualifies as an emergency, i believe." You say as you step closer, "Do you want to tell me why you're here like this?"

He stays silent, thinking about it for a moment.

"Or I can leave, if that's what you want."

Still no answer.

You take a deep breath. To be honest, you're worried about him, but if he doesn't want to talk about it, then you can't force him to.

"Okay, i understand." You say as you take a step away.

"Wait." He stops you, his voice cracking, "Actually, can you.. can you stay?"

"Of course."

So, you carefully sit down next to him, your legs crossed and your back against the window. He's still breathing irregularly, wiping away tears with his jacket sleeves every now and then. You can't rush him, so you wait for him to talk more, but he doesn't say anything.

In order for you to say the right things, he needs to tell you what's going on, but without such information, all you can do is gently pat him on the shoulder while he weeps. Since he doesn't thwart your hand away, you assume he's not bothered by your attempt to comfort him, which is good. But, you wish you can do more for him.

After a moment of silence, you decide to speak. "It's okay. Everything is going to be alright. It must've been such an exhausting day for you."

"I just-" he stutters with a sob, turning to face you, "I just wish things were different."

"I'm sorry." You feel a pang in your heart as you listen to his words. "I can't pretend to know what you're going through." You reply, "But, just know that i'm here for you, and i will always be, yeah?"

He nods, and pulls you in for a tight hug, whispering, "Thank you."

[delilaha]

Midnight Snakes

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Ponyboy wakes up in the middle of the night starving, and when he goes into the kitchen for a snack, he finds an unwelcome guest.

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Hi everyone! This is my first post on Tumblr. You can find more of my works on ao3, wattpad, and ff.net where I’ve posted a lot of other things (usernames are in the description). Unfortunately, if anyone here recognizes me from ao3, i’m currently on a 30 day suspension because of a requests page (which i literally took down in july) that wasn’t allowed to be up because it wasn’t an actual story. So i decided to start posting here as well! Everything i post will be put up on ao3 eventually, though <3

Also a little later on in the story there will be descriptions of a snake being killed so if you don't like reading that type of stuff (or just snakes in general) you probably shouldn't read this lol

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When Ponyboy woke up in the middle of the night in his pitch black bedroom, the first thing he processed was the ravaging hunger in his stomach. And it wasn't the type of hunger you'd feel when you're just simply hungry after a long, few hours of not eating. It was that sharp, stabbing pain in your abdomen that makes it feel like something is about to explode if you don't get your hands on something edible in three seconds.

So Pony clambered out of bed, being careful not to wake Sodapop in the process, who was snoring away. He put his hands out in front of him, trying to avoid anything that he could bump into on the way to the door because his eyes hadn't adjusted yet and the room around him was still completely dark. He felt his way to the door and opened it slowly, slipping through the doorway because he knew if he opened it too much it would let out a loud creak and wake up the whole house. He shut it tightly when he got to the other side, satisfied when he didn't notice Soda's snores wavering.

Ponyboy then walked down the hallway, rather fast for someone who just climbed out of bed a minute ago. He cringed when he stepped on a creaky floorboard, squeezing his eyes shut and saying a quick silent prayer that it wasn't too loud. But Soda could sleep through a tornado if he was allowed, and it's not like Darry would crucify him if he caught Pony up looking for a snack. But they all know how grumpy he gets when somebody wakes him up when he doesn't need to be awake. It's almost funny really, and Soda and Pony love to tease him in the morning for it. But not so much in the moment.

He continued moving when he didn't hear anyone stir, sharply turning around the corner and into the kitchen, ready to feast on the first thing he could get his hands on.

Then, through the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes landed on the toaster. And suddenly, the thing Pony was really craving was toast. Something short to make and not necessarily loud either. Perfect!

Ponyboy walked over to the counter and pulled out two pieces of white bread from the little bag, placing them haphazardly on the countertop. He went to grab the toaster with two hands, to bring it out more from where it was pushed more towards the wall, when suddenly, his fingers grazed something that seemed to be coiled behind it. For a split second, he thought it was just the plug and was about to pull it out farther, until from the corner of his eye he saw the actual plug laying to the side of it through the darkness of the room, nearly falling off the edge of the counter.

This set off a million different alarms in his still sleepy mind, and he ripped his hands back immediately. Pony didn't feel anything move, but he swore he felt the scaley, thin tail of... something. He didn't even want to think about the possibilities of snakes right now. So instead, took two apprehensive steps to the side closer to the wall, and reached a little bit behind him to flick the light switch on.

He blinked rapidly to let his eyes adjust as light flooded the room, and caught sight of the toaster. It looked so innocent just sitting there on the counter, but he could've sworn there was something hiding behind it. After all, this wouldn't be the first time they've found scaly creatures in the house, especially around this time of year. But even then, it was usually just a common house gecko that sprints away at the speed of light if you even went near it. Ponyboy silently pleaded that it was just his imagination just playing tricks on him as he inched back towards the toaster, planning to snatch it away to reveal whatever's behind it.

When Pony stopped he was still relatively far from the counter, his arms elongated just enough to grasp the front sides of the toaster. He took a deep breath, and held onto it tighter, a little more at ease when he didn't see anything shoot out from behind it.

But that pinch of calm washed down the drain in an instant when he pulled away the toaster to reveal a dark brown colored snake, coiled in on itself. And huge, at that, despite the fact it was curled into a ball. Ponyboy just stood there and stared at it for a second as it lay unmoving, and he wondered, hoped even, if it could be dead. But all of the sudden, the toaster plug smacked the ground as it fell off the counter completely, causing the snake's head to shoot up from where it was buried in itself, and Pony flinched so hard he practically jumped.

'It's awfully ugly,' he thought as it stared at him for a second that felt like hours, its black, beady eyes, unblinking and unmoving. But obviously it woke up and chose violence because it quickly opened its mouth to bare its fangs and hiss, showing off the white of its mouth. Oh, God. A Cottonmouth.

Ponyboy dropped the toaster with a loud bang and let out a short, shrill yell when the snake's head snapped forward a few times, chomping it's jaw down as if it were imagining to be biting down on Pony's flesh.

In seconds, stumbling could be heard from one of the bedrooms, probably Darry's. His bedroom door slammed open and his heavy footsteps came running down the hallway. He practically skidded into the kitchen, hair tousled from sleep and muscles tense expecting to find an intruder. But instead, he found his baby brother shaking in his boots with the toaster at his feet, staring at something Darry couldn't see from where he was positioned.

"My God, Pony, what happened? It's three in the morning, what are you doing-" Darry began to lecture him, but cut himself short when he saw the limbless spawn of satan on the counter.

"Holy shit," Darry muttered under his breath, grabbing Pony's shoulder and taking him back a few steps.

"I was up looking for a snack and I found it behind the toaster... I'm sorry I woke you up," Ponyboy told him, voice shaking slightly and eyes blown wide, still fixed on the snake.

"Just.. okay, just stay put." Darry said, raking his hand through his hair. Pony nodded and started to chew on his fingernails, watching as Darry tried to inch past the snake to cupboards under the sink where the pots and pans were held. But the snake striked again, narrowly missing his forearm after it silently slithered to the edge of the countertop when he went to reach for the knob to open it.

This caused Darry to screech and fall back onto the ground, something that would've been funny if they weren't facing a deadly predator. The noise scared Pony out of his skin and caused him to scream too, possibly louder than the first time, as Darry scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the stupid toaster that was still on the ground. He grabbed Pony by the shoulder and dragged both of them back a few feet, watching as the snake slithered around the countertop.

Just as soon as they were back a safer distance, the familiar sound of a bedroom door slammed open and footsteps ran down the hall.

"What's going on?" Soda exclaimed, darting into the kitchen pretty quickly for someone who probably woke up literally ten seconds ago.

"There's a damn snake that nearly bit my arm off," Darry said, pointing to the snake on the countertop, the other hand splayed out in front of Ponyboy to keep him away from it. Darry looked away for one second to meet Soda's face, when suddenly, Pony let out a gasp.

"Look!" He said, pointing at the snake, which was starting to make its way off the countertop, half of its body dangling off the side. Darry whipped his head back to see the snake staring right at them, a murderous look in its small, black eyes, and its pink tongue sticking out every few seconds.

Darry was about to give up, he figured he could just hole him and his brothers up in his room for the night and call some guy to find it and kill it in the morning, until Soda shouted "I got it!" from behind them.

He was just hardly able to get him and Pony out of the way before all of a sudden, a random, white dinner plate was flung through the air and hit the snake head on. Glass shattered everywhere and the snake flopped to the ground instantly. They stood around in silence for a second, watching to see if the snake would make another move, but luckily it never did.

"Well, you're welcome," Soda spoke, posing with his hands on his hips like he just saved a baby from a burning building.

"Jeez, Soda, don't you think that was a little violent?" Pony asked, crouching down where the remains of the glass plate and snake lay, Darry following in suit.

"What? It was a quick death. Plus, he was threatening us." Sodapop said matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders.

"You still hungry?" Darry asked, flicking away a piece of snake carcass that was on the floor and smirked at Ponyboy, who grimaced and shook his head immediately.

No, he was definitely not hungry at all anymore.

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[user2772636]

So American

Oh God, it's just not fair of him

•○●$☆$●○•

•○●$☆$●○•

When your french boyfriend loves to tease you about how "american" you are, you just think you should write a song about it.

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Actor!Joseph Descamps x Singer!Reader

Warnings: none but flufffff

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Joseph Descamps wasn't fond of the fact that "the americans" drove on the right side of the road or that the wheel was on the left side of the car. But you grew up here, and he trusts you.

It helped him relax, knowing what you were wearing. His famous brown leather jacket with an "I ♡ Paris" shirt on the inside. You looked like a tourist in his country, but he guesses you look "trendy" here.

He places his hand on your thigh, and it's warm enough to make you shiver in relaxation.

To you, Joseph Descamps was the dream boyfriend. He's pretty, tall, smart, funny, fashionable, and even more. What you liked most was his accent and the way he speaks his mother tongue. He's almost too perfect, like a man you'd only find in poems.

Every time you cracked a joke, he'd laugh uncontrollably. He understood every one of them, clinging on the words like a ladder.

When he saw an american flag in the back of your car that you hadn't taken out since the fourth of july, he teased you about being so american. You could only roll your eyes, planning on kissing those teasing lips later.

Every time you kissed, it felt like so many emotions filled you up, but you absorbed it in every type of way. It felt so nice, it felt so good. He made you feel like this and only him.

Being honest to yourself, you'd marry the man. Sure, you're young, and sure you've only been together for a year, but you love him, and he loves you.

•○●$☆$●○•

You get a call from your producer and long-time best friend, asking if you were free over the week, having come up with an idea for a single.

"Well, I think I do. You know how I've been with Joseph these past few months since my break? Well, he's just so perfect. I mean his fluffy hair, his pretty eyes, his pretty pink lips, and his accent, God, his accent. He's so well read and so well dressed and he-"

"Hun, you're rambling again." Fuck. This is the 5th time.

"Sorry."

Plus, every time you lie on your bed, planning on taking a nap, it's so hard to do when he's literally right beside you, available for kissing and cuddling and loving. You're so in love with the boy you sacrificed your beauty sleep. Imagine that.

Okay, so this might be a bit much a bit too soon. But if love ever came up, he'd be the first in my mind. I haven't said I love you yet, and he hasn't either, but I know deep inside me I do. I really fucking do.

•○●$☆$●○•

"Joseph?" He tilts his head up from his paperback, raising his brows.

"Yes, mon ange?" He scoots a bit closer, bringing his arm around my shoulder.

I smile to myself, thinking of a game. "Think of a number."

He smiles back, this game all too familiar for him. "Okay." He pauses. "1, 2, 3..."

"6."

"I love you." I whisper, looking into his eyes from below.

He only stares, lips slowly turning up into a smile.

"I love you, too." He pauses again.

"Je t'aime, mon ange. Je ne peux pas respirer sans toi. Chaque fois que nous sommes séparés, tu es toujours dans mon esprit. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime." He kisses my lips after every I love you, and my breath stumbles at his confession.

"I don't understand what you're saying!" I laugh, kissing him back on occasion.

"Good." Another kiss. "It's too much for now. Just know I love you." The next kiss lasted longer. It was gentle, it was hungry, it was love.

•○●$☆$●○•

When "So American" came out, it hit the charts. Everyone loved it, and everyone supported it.

That's when they started to get the idea you, famous pop singer Y/N L/N, was dating famous french actor, Joseph Descamps.

Well, we'll see how long we can keep it from them.

•○●$☆$●○•

2 in a row?!?!??! So crazy rn. Its literally 2 am here and im sweating balls over the summer heat. This is hella short sorry but i wanted this so bad.

[hibischush]

Hello! Have you got any kissing headcanons for Eiland, March, and any romanceable you'd like? Thank you! :3

Ohhhh yes yes I do! I did the "spin the wheel" for the rest of the romanceables because I literally couldn't choose they're all so lovable already. Adeline was the chosen one so I guess we have a sibling special today lmao 🌺

Also, some of these are a bit suggestive, so⚠️minors proceed with caution!⚠️

Eiland

at first I feel like Eiland would be very gentlemanly when kissing you

Like after one of your first few dates he definitely leaned down and kissed your hand

bro is literally courting you like its the regency era

I think that it would take him awhile to gather up to kiss you

But I wholly support the idea that you initiate your first kiss

Like this is an outta-nowhere-unplanned-spontaneous kiss

Because Eiland would be the type to plan out extravagant dates to be memorable

I think you would kiss him for the first time when he's busy explaining (in great depth) the history behind an artifact at the dig sites

His eyes were just so bright and his voice was so animated and passionate and his lips were just

irresistible

You cut him off with a quick chaste kiss and oh man

His expression was priceless

He was so shocked and his face immediately heated up

Eiland was speechless for longer than you expected and you asked if he was okay

"I...yes! Of course! I just..." he pauses, thumbing the bottom of your lip while leaning closer and whispering, "I want to properly kiss you this time, with my full attention."

Once kissing became as natural as breathing air, Eiland kisses you more confidently

He almost always uses one hand to cradle your face and another to pull you closer by the waist

His favorite place to kiss you is your lips, but he is not picky in the slightest

When things heat up, I think he would be a... lip biter

BLASPHEMY I KNOW. A NOBLE LORD SUCH AS EILAND?!

He'd also kiss and nibble on your neck as long as you're fine with it

March

March 100% kisses you before you both are official

Bc he's a silly impulsive little tsudere

and to be clear its obvious that March likes you at this point, and you reciprocate

You want him to bring it up though because he will deny that he likes you lmao

Like you both were hanging out near the fountain in town and the tension is so thick that you could slice through it with a sword

heavy eye contact, fleeting touches, sly comments, etc.

you are breaking this man down

"You are so cute, March," you giggle, shoving him aside playfully

He blushes and pushes you back, almost defensively

"S-shut up. You just don't take me seriously, idiot."

Alright. This guy--

You're tired of his bs

"God, March," you groan, "you want to kiss me so damn bad it makes you look stupid!"

He fumes, before grabbing you by your shoulders and hesitating for a second

before you can say anything, his lips crash against your own

it was short but passionate

"Not so stupid now, huh?"

Anywhoozies

March is a very passionate guy, especially for you

While I believe he is a rough kisser when feeling extra...loving (purely out of desperation btw)

I think his favorite place to kiss you is on your nose 🥺

Especially as goodnight kisses

Adeline

Prefacing this with Adeline is lovely kisser

She always kisses you with purpose and emotion

You're her favorite person, and you help her relax when she can physically love on you

Your first kiss with Adeline was after a nice candlelit dinner after you two had been dating for awhile

Also just another hc I'm going to throw in here:

I think Adeline really enjoys ball room dancing

She used to do it more when she was younger and didn't have to watch over Mistria

So afterwards she asks if you would like to dance (ofc you accept)

While dancing and enjoying such a tender moment with Adeline, you noticed that she faltered and slowed to a stop

You quietly ask her if she was alright, and she looks at you with such warmth it made your heart race

"May I kiss you?"

When you nod your head yes, she smiles, wrapping her arms around your neck, as her eyelids flutter close and she gives you a soft lingering kiss

Afterwards you both kiss often, often short but sweet

Like kisses on the cheek in passing since the both of you are often busy

Adeline loves to kiss you on your cheek!

And she loves to receive kisses on her forehead

When you both have the alone time to be intimate, Adeline kisses you like you're her first breath of air after resurfacing from water lemme tell ya

The pair of you don't get much alone time together so she makes the most of it!

In conclusion, I am in love with them all. I honestly don't know which romanceable I'll go for in my first playthrough, I guess we'll all have to wait until August 5th 🥲

Side note: what is the God in this game. Using "God" just sounds weird as an interjection

[mayuichi]

how do you think Tighnari would deal with a crush where he walks in on this conversation? Collei says to crush “Oh please don’t think too harshly of Tighnari. I know he sounds harsh. He actually is very nice”. And crush looks so puzzled, “what? He was being harsh with me? I think he’s sweet”?

First I'm really sorry I took forever to answer you! Sickness kicks in for the past two weeks and I literally have no strength at all! But today's the day I'm going to answer it the way I think it'd be!

I hope you'll be happy and satisfied with how I made it And thank you for the little scenario you made me have about it~

In the peaceful scenery of the forest, your best friend passionatelly talks of her studies. You know Collei for a long time now, and you're well aware that she isn't the type to have lots of days off... So when she asks if you want to hangout, how could you refuse?

You don't know as much of the Avidiya Forest as her, your knowledge on it is only about what you've heard through your friends, or when you'd get scolded by the Chief Officier himself.

Sitting in between the trees, her voice trails off, and she turns to look at you. “By the way...„ your head snaps up at her worried tone. “I know Tighnari can become somehow a tyrant when it comes to the forest but...„

You stare. Tighnari, a tyrant? It's true you aren't too close of him, but it isn't because you think badly of him. On the opposite! You find it endearing and amazing that some people are willing to take care of nature. You just don't need to see him everyday.

But when he comes by the city, he always makes a detour to come visit you. He enjoys your talks, and so do you. How could you not anyway? He brings you some sweet flowers when he stops by, and if he forgets, he apologises.

“A... tyrant?„ you question quietly, a silent chuckle escaping you. “I-.. I mean! The other day, I saw him scolding you pretty badly! I don't want you to think he enjoys doing so! He just cares both about the forest and the people!„ she corrects herself.

It's true. You came around last week and, unfortunately for you, you've done such a silly mistake! And that under the very eyes of the fennec boy. It didn't took many seconds before he helped you and took the occasion to scold your stupid behavior.

“And... That was supposed to be bad? I found it... Nice of him. I never saw him as harsh.„ you reassure her. She sighs in relief and leans closer to you. She's an idiot to think you'd see Tighnari poorly, isn't she? But you won't mention it. Instead, you let her rest her head against you and appreciate the moment.

But little do you know...

The little fennec fox man is on patrol, and overheard the conversation you just had. His cheeks flashed pink and his ears flattened on his head. Did he heard this right? Poor baby has always been anxious you'd think his duty as a Forest Watcher aren't separated from who he truly is!

He's fast to make a runaway from the crime scene, though. If you or Collei would see he eavedropped on you, he'd be dead on the spot! He reaches his tent rapidly, deciding he'd just fill some reports instead.

So when a few hours later, he hears yours and Collei's laughters ringing in his ears, he stands up to sneak to his door and watch you. Collei's about to depart and call it a day. And you'd do the same... If he would've not called for your attention.

“So... You like my scolding?„ he teases. How could he not? If he doesn't, he'll just stutter and be incapable to say a thing. But now, you're the one stuttering.

Rolling your eyes to try and ignore his words, you scoff. “As if! I just know you don't do it because you enjoy it.„ you deny, even if a part of you has to admit... You like his scolding. And he could see right through you. “Wait! How do you even know that?! Did you listened to us?!„

His eyes widen, forgetting about that fact. He clears his throat and gazes away. Now, your cheek took a pink tint, just like his. “... If you don't say I did, I won't mention to anyone you like my scolding.„

Hesitantly locking your eyes with his, a silence takes place until you take a few steps back. “I keep your secret, you keep mine... And that's a deal. Now I'll, erhh.. get going!„

You don't even let him answer you and flee. You've never felt so embarrassed before, but something in it made it so nice. You're eager for it to happen again.

Both of you have a crush on one another, and you know it. But he loves that cat and mouse play way too much, just like you, to be the one to confess first.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[fictionplumis]

Dreamling: Arranged Marriage AU

This idea won't leave me alone until I write it. A Dreamling arranged marriage AU where Night decides her children could stand to be a little closer to mortals lest they end up like their father and completely separated from them, so she decides one of them needs to take on a mortal consort--who would then become immortal, no she does not think this would eventually compromise the integrity of her idea. Ideally, all of them would have a mortal consort, but even she recognizes the problem with that. Destiny doesn't meddle in mortal affairs at all, Death is far too busy, Destruction has been pulling back from his duties and neglecting his realm (he's still there, for now, but they all know he's not really doing anything anymore, they just don't know how to bring it up to him), Desire is far too immature, making a mortal spend eternity with Despair would be cruel, and Delirium would drive her spouse insane.

So it's decided that Dream (this is about Sandman, not the YouTuber, if this post breaks containment PLEASE understand this is about the Sandman NOT the YouTuber) is the only suitable candidate, and the others will just have to experience mortals through their sibling-in-law. Night declares it, says she doesn't care how it's done as long as it's done, the end. 

(I'm sorry all you people that want Night and Time to be good supportive parents, but I read Overture, they fucking suck. Night will not show up to the wedding because she's already written off her children as selfish and ungrateful anyway, this is in part a way to punish them and to punish Dream, and Time finds this ridiculous but knows it will happen, has already happened, is happening, and he doesn't really care.)

Dream hates this. If he had his choice he would pluck the first mortal up, marry them, and promptly forget about them and go back to ruling his realm. That's why his siblings decide that he cannot, under any circumstances, be in charge of this.

Instead they decide on a friendly competition. They will each (all except for Destiny, who already knows the various different outcomes and has decided to observe but not participate) pick a candidate for Dream. The Endless don't really abide by silly things like linear time and whatnot, so it could literally be any mortal they nominate. They will each then devise a trial to test what they each believe to be an important quality necessary to marry Dream of the Endless and become Prince Consort of the Dreaming. All candidates will be put through the tests until there's one remaining. 

(I'm sorry, Calliope will not be in this because I can't think of a realistic way she would be eliminated and she's technically not mortal anyway.)

Death finds her candidate in a dingy tavern on Earth, circa 1389, when she overhears a drunken snippet of conversation. A man boldly claiming she's stupid and he's going to live forever. It's a jest, she knows. He doesn't actually believe he'll live forever, but there is the desire to within him and in thirty seconds he's proven himself a natural storyteller. It's a whim that she approaches him with an amused, "Did I hear that right, you intend to live forever?" 

The table goes silent. Hob's companions are smirking between him and the woman suggestively and Hob waves them off with a laugh. "Aye, that's right." 

"I believe you and I need to talk, then. Somewhere more private." 

There's some immature tutting from his mates, and Hob looks surprised and thrilled all at once, because she's very beautiful though why she's interested in him when her outfit implies she's chaste-- But hell if he's going to pass up the opportunity, so he goes with her, tries to make a move on her the second they're around the corner and she laughs in his face, easily bats him away, and goes, "You're cute, but not my type, Robert Gadling. No, I'm here to offer you a chance at immortality." 

He grows wary at first. Asks if she's the devil, but she just stares at him patiently until he realizes who she is and stumbles back in fear and surprise, only to be laughed at again. Kinder, this time. 

"I'm not here to take you, though..." She eyes the tankard in his hand with raised brows. "It is a shame you didn't lay off the ale sooner." He quickly sets the tankard down and steps away from it. 

The deal is this. He'll be part of a competition, though he won't know it or remember this conversation. Should he win, he'll be immortal. If he loses, he'll be returned to his life right before she approached him, to live out what few hours he has left, never remembering any of this. She leaves out how he'll become immortal, leaves out that he'll end up marrying her sullen little brother and becoming Prince Consort to his realm, but what are the changes he'll win anyway?

Dream is surprised to find that each of his siblings picks someone that does, on some level, appeal to him. He's a romantic at heart, it's hard not to fall a little bit in love with each other of them as he watches how this plays out.

The competition is this: 

Each candidate will live what they perceive to be four lifetimes in a dream. For the most part, they're just going to be jumping from important decision to important decision, with the blanks filled in for them through false memories to make it feel like it's been four lifetimes and not a few days at most. At the end of each lifetime, they'll be asked if they wish to continue living. That is Death's trial, because anyone marrying an Endless must be resilient enough to keep going. 

The first lifetime is Despair's test, in which the candidates discover that they won't age, they won't die, that their life may very well be unending. They lose their families, their friends, and realize that they always will. They don't know if there's any way to opt out or not, so for all they know, one day in the very distance future, they will be the only one left. Despair wants to make sure the idea of Endlessness is not a curse for Dream's spouse to bear, though she herself would thrive off that, personally.

Ironically, it's Despair's candidate, the queen of the first human civilization, that falls to this test. Nada lives the first lifetime without ever knowing true, passionate love. She's pushed into marrying someone who is a good ruler for her people, and when they pass, she marries someone else who is also a good ruler for her people, and she sees that there are those besides herself who have the judgement necessary to rule. She's proud of the city she's created, she's proud of her people, and the idea of eventually watching them die and come to an end as all things do, it kills her inside. It doesn't matter that it might be millennia from now. When a gentle voice asks one day if she wishes to continue living, she contemplates it, contemplates her current husband, closes her eyes, and says, "No. I think it's time for a new queen to rule my people." 

Hob, on the other hand, has spent his lifetime fighting, mostly, a bit of highway robbery when he couldn't find a war. Lots of brothels. He's eaten stuff he shouldn't have, gotten himself mortally injured more than a few times, bounced back from it, and now he's into this printing thing. No guilds to restrict it yet, it pays well, and he's been teaching himself how to read. He's sitting in an inn, drinking ale next to the hearth, no smoke in his eyes, and thinking about swindling the table next to him in a round of cards to pay for some more ale. When the same voices asks him if wishes to keep living, his eyes get bright and he answers, "Oh yes." The thought of what his immortality might mean never really crossed his mind. He lost people, sure, but he would have lost them anyway, and there's always more people to meet. This is amazing. 

The second lifetime is Desire's test. Desire, who actually cares on some level, in their own way, and knows that if their big brother marries an idiot, they'll have to put up with them, so they have to make sure Dream marries someone halfway decent. Someone who might keep him busy. Someone who desires things strongly, but is not so ruled by them that they'll give up their duty to chase distractions, nor will they give up if Dream doesn't desire them the way they wish--which is very likely. In Desire's test, each candidate is given people to love, fully and completely, with all their heart, and are forced to watch that thing die violently and terribly only to be asked right afterwards if they still wish to live. 

Delirium's candidate is Killala of the Glow, who finds out that the beautiful green star of her solar system, which is the cause of her power, is a conscious, living thing. And he loves her. He is everything she ever wanted. With him, her powers grow. She learns to use them better, to get stronger with them, to understand them and herself. It shouldn't have happened so soon, they should have had millennia together, but something happens and he has just enough time to warn her, to explain that he's dying and that she needs to be strong and use her powers to shield her world from him or his death will raze it all to the ground. She doesn't understand how this could happen, she can't concentrate through her grief, her planet is destroyed and as she's floating amongst the burning cold heat of her lover collapsing in on himself, she's asked if she still wishes to live and she says no. 

Hob meets Eleanor, who is charming and funny and matches him wit for wit. She doesn't ask about his past or how he acquired his money. He's never been in love before. He thought he would continue finding his companionship in brothels and had felt perfectly content with that, but now there's her, and he wants so very badly to marry her, to be her escape away from her traditionalist of a father who stifles her wit into silence. So he does. And he has a son, a beautiful baby boy that he promises the world to. Then there's the promise of another child, and he's thrilled. 

He's there in the room, holding Eleanor's hand, terrified when she goes into labor months earlier than planned. She's in so much pain. The baby isn't crying. The midwife is trying desperately to stop the bleeding. The blood is still warm on Hob's skin and clothing as he holds Eleanor's lifeless body and sobs. His son needs a mother. Needs a father but he knows, in that moment, that he will be a useless one to the boy like this. Robyn has his temper, he'll die too young and Hob will have failed him. 

When he's asked if he wishes to keep living, he thinks of how the blood is still warm on his skin, and how ashen Eleanor looks in his arms, and he brushes her hair back from her face and says, brokenly, "Someone has to remember her. She wouldn't... She wouldn't want me to give up, now would she?" 

Delirium knows better than any endless how pain and suffering can break a mind. Dream is the Lord of Nightmares as much as he is the Lord of Dreams. Or maybe she was just feeling particularly sadistic because she doesn't understand why she can't get married, she would love to get married, she could turn her spouse into bubbles and they would look so pretty floating around her realm, or maybe even glitter, or frogs! But no, she's not getting married, Dream is, and Dream is mean sometimes, so maybe she just decides to be mean to whoever he gets to married. It's hard to tell if even she knows her own motivation. 

But the candidates suffer for her trial, pushed to their breaking points and then past them. 

Destruction's candidate has never really known suffering before these trials. Or living, really. See, Destruction hadn't actually gone out to try to find someone for Dream, he had been busy trying to learn how to carve a piece of marble into a shape without reducing it to rubble. Once everyone else had found their candidate, he went to Desire and was like, "Hey, so..." 

Desire sighed, and rolled their eyes, and was like, "Fine, I'll help you. I'll construct a woman to be your candidate. If I don't win, maybe you will." 

Thus Alianora was created. She's strong, smart, and while she can handle loss, she was created to be a lover. To be loved. To be a partner. Under Delirium's trial, she is alone, she suffers alone, no one pays her any mind or they hurt her worse, and she withers. She grows morose, she grows desperate, she grows hysterical in her isolation. She loses her mind. She never does answer the question of whether or not she wishes to keep living. It's questionable if she can answer the question, if she even fully understands it. Unfortunately, there is no coming back from such a thing, even if they fix her mind and these trials became like just a dream to her. There's no place for her to go now that she's lost this trial, no home for her to go back to. She's the only true causality of this game and Dream, aching for her and bitter over Desire's causal indifference, makes a Dreamscape for Alianora to live in where she'll never be alone. It's the least he can do.

Hob goes a touch insane himself, but the cracks in his mind are strategic. Like crumple zones in a car, it's to survive what comes next. He's drowned as a witch. Over and over, rocks tied to his ankles, tossed into the water, and every time he surfaces they catch him and do it all over again. Again and again. Dirty pond water filling his lungs, his chest fit to burst, throat and nose raw from inhaling liquid, skin clammy and near rotten. He lets himself break so that when the moment for real escape presents itself, he's not so gone that he misses the opportunity or that he stupidly cocks it all up. 

He does escape, but he's lost everything in a world where value is determined by wealth. He sleeps on the street, mutters to himself, has arguments with made up people in an attempt to kept his mind sharp and to distract himself from the decades where he starves and starves but never dies, his stomach endlessly digesting itself and he throws up what little bit of scraps he can get his hands on, which just makes it worse. 

When he's asked if he still wishes to live, he tosses his head back and laughs, startling a couple people walking past him on the street, who walk a bit quicker, and he asks, "Are you crazy?" Dream is leaned in where they watch these dreams projected above the family meeting table, and if one paid attention they might see that his eyes were rimmed red, thinking that Delirium's trial would claim another. At least he could be fixed, and would soon after go to the Sunless Lands to live in peace. He deserved that. They all did. 

"Death is a mug's game! I have so much left to live for!" 

And now there are two left to face down Destruction's trial. 

Destruction may not have put effort into finding a suitable candidate, but he did devise a good trial. While his brother did need someone strong and resilient, they had to be what Dream lacked as well. They needed to be flexible. They needed to learn and grow from their mistakes. They needed to have compassion. All of these things to teach Dream the same, to encourage these things during the moments that Dream lacks them. His trial isn't about pushing the candidates into choosing Death, there's a very clear answer to his and if the candidate does not find it, they fail, whether they want to continue living or not. 

Desire's candidate has yet to break. She has no intention of dying. She's more than willing to let go of what she desires if it means furthering her ambitions. Suffering doesn't break her, it only pisses her off. Dream isn't sure what to think of this woman. He doesn't really like her on a personal level, she would be nothing but trouble actually, but there is a certain appeal to her. He would never have to worry about hurting her unintentionally, at least. But she's greedy and she doesn't care who she hurts to get her way. And when Destruction's test rewrites her memories to have it where her immortality is granted to her through the blood of other witches, of her sisters, killed by her and sacrificed to the Hecate, the Three-in-One, the One Who is Three, and that more will die by her hands to keep living, she feels a twinge of grief and guilt. 

So Thessaly simply decides to not think about it. She misses them, but it's just proof that she was stronger than them. Smarter than them. That she deserved to be here instead of dying out with them. And if she's able to continue making these sacrifices, if no one is able to stop her, then clearly it's just more proof she deserves this. 

She fails, and no amount of Desire calling bullshit on Destruction's verdict changes his mind. 

Hob, meanwhile, has rebuilt his life. His fortune. He's living well again, he's at no risk of starving, no need to fight in anymore wars because he has pockets of money all across the world he can run off to at the first sign of trouble. He has connections and a successful business. 

He's talking with someone about said business only to have them eye him judgmentally. He's told, "It is a poor thing to enslave another." 

He's a bit rankled at being called out on it. He shrugs, says that's just how it's done, because it is. It is. And at first it looks like he's going to fail too and this whole venture will have to be start all over, new candidates found, but as they watch him, the words aren't easily pushed from his mind. He dwells on them. He starts going through charters and logs. He gets restless sitting at home, surrounded by his newly regained wealth. He starts contacting his ships, digging into their practices that's never really taken the time to learn the specifics of before. A captain offers to let Hob sail a round with him so he could show off how safe the investment is, fearing that perhaps Hob is only questioning because he's afraid of potential repercussions.

He's shown how people are collected. Chained together. The conditions they're kept in on ship, the treatment the sailors give them. The captain explains that if they're pursued, it's easy enough to dump the cargo into the ocean, the chains ensure they all sink, no one is the wiser. 

They don't leave port until everyone is loaded off the ship, and Hob demands they go straight back to England. He contacts every ship in his business and puts a stop to it. Cuts every shipping tie he has and when captains tell him he'll never make another quid, he tells him them he doesn't care, it's not worth it. The guilt still eats at him. It's not enough to make him forget the imagined faces of all the lives he's destroyed, drowning the same way he had, again and again, or resigned to a fate worse than death in most cases. He drinks himself into a stupor most nights. 

He's drunk when he's asked if he still wishes to live. It's not the kind, understanding woman's voice that usually asks. It's a man's, soft and deep, curious, and Hob swirls his glass of brandy, contemplating whether he deserves to or not when he was responsible for the death of so many innocents. They weren't killed in a fight, they didn't have anything worth taking from them, it was just cruelty against helpless people. He swings back the rest of his drink and mutters, bitterly, "History has a way of erasing these things, doesn't it? It forgets what it doesn't want to remember. Someone needs to remember. Someone needs to remind people of this. It won't ever be enough to make up for what I've allowed, but this is something I must live with. To die now and let the world forget would make me a coward shirking responsibility for myself." 

Just like that, he's sober again and standing in a room that's a mix of the time periods he lived through in his dream. It's warm, inviting. There's a four poster bed, a large hearth with piles of comfortable pillows in front of it. An oak wardrobe simply carved but beautiful. Rugs over stone floors. There's a large balcony that lets in plenty of natural light, and it overlooks fantastical mountains in the distance, and a harbor filled with ships of every kind, and sea serpents lazily winding their way through them. Hob had never given much thought to what his perfect room would look like, but he knows he's standing in it. 

The dream he lived through feels like a dream, it's hazy and indistinct, disconnected from the emotions that he once felt were so real and consumed by. But he's not the same man he was when it started. He's retained the lessons learned about living, about compassion, he's more mature, he still remembers how to read. It's all still there, but the loss and grief and guilt are distant now, more like a story he read than a life he lived. 

And Death is there with him, dressed in black jeans and a tank top, smiling proudly at him. He suddenly remembers the competition and has a brief moment of panic, blurts out, "Oh god, I lost and drunk myself to death and this is heaven--" 

"No, you won, Hob!"

"What?"

"You won!" And then she has to explain that while yes, he technically will be immortal, it's only because he now has to marry her little brother. They move out to the balcony and she explains that they're in the Dreaming and what that means while Hob looks around in awe. "He's not bad, my brother," she assures. "He's a bit distant, mostly. A stickler for his rules. He's prideful and can have quite temper if you insult that. It's wise to remember that he rules dreams and nightmares here. But at worst, he'll probably go back to his work and forget you exist, and you'll have the whole of his realm to explore. Unfortunately, you can't back out now." 

"Oh, I wouldn't if I could," Hob assures quickly, waving the concern off. "Marrying a nightmare sure beats rotting to maggots in the ground. I'll take it. What's expected of me?" 

She tells him that he probably won't have any actual duties, and Prince Consort will more than likely just be a title. Theoretically, Hob could hold sway over the Dreaming nearly as much as Dream did, but that required getting close to Dream. "Consummating your marriage," she tactfully puts it. "Each time you got closer to my brother, each time he lets you closer and as his trust and care grows, you would find the Dreaming responding easier and easier to you. The Dreaming is an extension of him, after all. And it's better that way, because you're immortal but still human, and suddenly having awareness of this would be way too much to pile on your mind all at once. But I doubt you'll have to worry about it. My brother seems curious about you but he's stubborn and easily distracted."

The wedding happens that night. 

Hob hasn't met his betrothed yet. 

Death dresses him in a stunning white suit with gold accents. His cravat is the finest woven white silk, embroidered in gold. He has a halo of gold light. There's a bloody cape. It drapes like heavy velvet but it's light and sheer and glitters like stars. He's a nervous wreck and she laughs gently and assures him that he'll know what to do when the time comes. 

Everything that dreams attends the wedding. It shouldn't have been possible to fit so many people in a room, but they're there. It should have taken years for Hob to walk down the aisle to the staircase to the raised dais and the throne, but it was a short walk and the whole time Hob can do nothing but stare at the man standing in front of the throne who has his chin raised, his dark eyes a host of starlight. He does seem vaguely curious. And haughty. And prideful. And beautiful. He's dressed in a similar suit of black, his sheer cape swirling with galaxies and nebula, and there's a sword of obsidian glass in his hands, the point resting gently against the stone floor. 

Hob knows intuitively to kneel the second he ascends the last stair, but he can't quite manage to duck his head like he knows is proper because he can't look away from this creature. Thankfully it produces something startlingly close to amusement in his betrothed. 

"Robert Gadling," he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying, the same one that had last asked him if he wished to live. He holds out his hand, a ruby ring already on his finger. "Swear your fealty to me." And then lower, softer, just between the two of them, "Do not be nervous, the words will come." 

And they do. A bit breathless, but they come after Hob reaches for the hand and presses his lips to the ring, his eyes still on the entity soon to be his husband in what has to be the weird marriage ritual of all time. "I swear my undying fealty to you, Morpheus, Lord of the Dreaming, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories and Shaper of Form. I swear to reside at your side, to give my loyalty to you and this Realm first and foremost, and to never raise a hand or support any threat to the denizens here. I am yours, Dream of the Endless." The words tighten through his chest like a binding and good lord, there's the smallest little smile on the Lord's face and he doesn't have a halo but the way the light from the stained glass windows behind him shines, it looks like he does and it's beautiful. 

Dream takes back his hand. He raises his sword and taps both of Hob's shoulders. At the second one, Hob feels the weight of a ring on his own finger. "Arise, Prince Consort of the Dreaming." 

Most people leave after that, they wake up and go about their lives, knowing something changed but not sure what. Some stay, and there's some mingling, and a reception dinner, and Hob barely gets a second to say two words to his husband. He's introduced to family, to Titania and motherfucking Lucifer. A librarian gives him her congratulations, a scarecrow with a pumpkin heads does so with a bit more reluctance and wariness, a raven with a white breast chats with him. She explains that she retired not too long ago, and nods towards a larger raven currently trying to figure out how to get his head into a champagne glass, explaining that he's her replacement. Despite how stupid he looks, she assures Hob that he's a good raven. 

There's a murder at one point. A man is stabbed through the eye with a serving fork. Some blond man in sunglasses looks intrigued by the turn of events, but he's the only one that bothers to react. The murderer tells him not to fucking try it, and then drags the body off. His husband merely tells him that it's normal and fine and that's pretty much the most he says aside from introducing Hob to people and staring at him from the corner of his black eyes. It's a whirlwind night and Hob ends it champagne drunk and passed out alone in his bed in his private quarters, not realizing until morning that he doesn't even know how to find his way around, let alone where the fuck his husband's room is. 

But when he stares at the ruby on his ring in the morning, he knows that he won't stop trying to woo his husband until they are properly, happily married, because one glimpse and Hob Gadling or whatever his surname was now, was most definitely head over heels in love. And thus begins the long and arduous process of courting his husband, the most stubborn man in existence, who is terrified of falling of in love and potentially being too much and would just rather keep his distance thank you very much. He makes it hard for Hob, until Hob remembers Death explaining that the Dreaming was an extension of him. If getting closer to Dream makes him closer to the Dreaming, maybe getting closer to the Dreaming will make him closer to Dream? It's worth a shot.

At the very least, Dream definitely takes note of the way everyone in his realm seems to be so smitten with his Prince Consort all of the sudden.

And that's it, that's all I have. I'm yeeting this out there to get it out of my head and now that you have it, you're free to do whatever you want with it. Change it up, write it, draw it, whatever, I don't care, you can have it now, just tell me if you do something with it because I wanna see okay thanks byee.

[max-nico]

"Well, what do you like, Shadow?" Sonic asks, staring up at the cloud covered night sky.

Shadow finds himself pausing, his eyebrow furrowing in contempt. "I liked Maria."

"Duh, I'd be concerned if you didn't, Shadow. I meant what do you like now?" Sonic huffs through an exasperated grin. "Like–If you could only bring three things with you on a deserted island, what would you pick… or do you like dancing or are you more of a cooking type-a guy? What would your perfect day be like? If you had to choose between a cottage or a penthouse, which one would you buy? Do you prefer warm temperatures or cold?"

"As the ultimate lifeform my body temperature is always perfectly regulated, I have no need to think about that."

"It's not about what you need Shadow–" Sonic sighs, flippantly gesturing his hands. "–It's about what you like, about what makes you happy."

"What makes me…happy?"

"Yup."

Shadow thinks for a moment, his head now turned toward Sonic, who's still not looking at him. Though in all fairness, Shadow himself is more looking toward Sonic's direction than at the hedgehog himself. He's lost in thought, focused on finding something he genuinely likes on this godforsaken planet.

Shadow opens his mouth to answer.

"And don't say something that Maria liked, I'm asking about you."

Shadow closes his mouth. Back at square one he supposes.

It's hard to think of something he genuinely enjoys. He's spent so long preserving life for Maria, growing plants for Maria, saving people for Maria, eating for Maria, living for Maria. What begins with him and what stops with her is a giant mess. It's a tangled ball of raw emotions that he can't even begin to decipher, let alone understand.

"C'mon dude, I know you have some good memories in there." Sonic finally turns to Shadow, his whole face lit up in some amalgamation of amused and disbelieving. "Better than having no memories at all, am I right?"

To that, Shadow's introspection halts. His face flattens at the joke as he doesn't find it funny, and he remembers the absolute dolt he's talking to. God, this whole conversation is stupid, isn't it? He has to wonder why he's talking about literally anything with the hedgehog next to him, he's a moron on top of all other morons.

Sonic has enough emotional competence to at least be apologetic as Shadow gets up to leave. A hand coming up to stop him before he can get very far, and a repentant look to accompany it as well. Shadow simply deadpans in response.

"Too sensitive? My bad." Sonic looks down at the grass. "I've been trying to get better with… that."

Shadow tries to pull away, his counterpart doesn't let him.

"I won't make another joke like that, promise. Come sit back down."

For a reason unknown to Shadow himself, he complies. He takes the same place he was sitting before, Sonic is a little closer now, but it doesn't really bother him. The grip on his arm doesn't either. At least not enough to make him do something about it.

"Now, you still haven't answered my question."

"Have you considered the possibility that your question is stupid?"

"Humor me. Just a little bit longer."

Shadow sighs, rolling his eyes and looking back up at the sky. It's easy to fall back into his reappraisal and forget about the blue hedgehog all together. It's easy to focus solely on Maria too, but it's hard to think of himself. Not being able to answer Sonic's question makes him feel dumb in a way he's never experienced before, shame is probably a better word for whatever he's feeling, but it's even harder to admit that then think about himself.

He repeats the question to himself a few times, as if that will magically give him an answer. Repetition makes him irritated, God he's so irritated right now. Stupid ass hedgehog asking him stupid ass questions.

"I'm tired of thinking about this. Let me leave."

"Aw c'mon, Shads." Sonic frowns. It's an odd look on his face. It makes Shadow uncomfortable. "Look, I'll try and help. You like Rouge and Omega don't you? I've seen you walk out of Tails' garage before–which was a little surreal for me by the way–but I assume you enjoy hanging out with him, right?"

This makes Shadow think. Sure, he's okay with Rouge, grateful to her at least. He's been staying with her for the past few weeks, and though she lives on takeout, talks enough to make him deaf–don't even get him started on her attitude, and hoards like she's never had anything of her own before, he's truly indebted to her. He would never say this out loud of course, she would hold it above him and never ever let it go. Rouge is annoying enough without him giving her leverage.

She's oddly kind though, in her own special way. She doesn't touch his stuff unless asked to, makes sure to order enough take out for him to eat too, she's even allowed him to put up the few portraits of Maria he has. Rouge constantly gives out mixed signals because of this unfortunately, so it's hard for Shadow to get a read on her.

All of this being said, he wouldn't call Rouge a friend, but he wouldn't call her a foe either. Rouge is also way past the acquaintance stage, but not nearly close enough to be called family. Their whole relationship is completely out of Shadow's depth.

Omega's is easier to classify. Not with one word, nothing that simple, but it makes sense in his head. Simply put, he and Omega bond over their mutual love for blowing shit up. If they talk, they're discussing bombs and war tactics. If they're hanging out, they're testing explosives. Sending messages? You guessed it, they're talking about how funny it would be to bomb GUN.

They're like… bomb buddies or something. He thinks that's how Tails referred to them. Omega would think it's stupid a name though, which is fine, because Shadow also thinks it's stupid a name. They work well like that.

They're still not friends though.

Now, as for Tails, that's another complicated case. They both enjoy engineering and talk shit about Sonic when he's not around. They both enjoy learning, and find space fascinating. They both enjoy mutual silence as well, making talking to him easy with no pressure to keep the conversation going.

He still doesn't think Tails qualifies as an answer though, because the whole reason he even began to give the kid the time of day was because of Maria. Young, hopeful, naive, bright blue eyes, golden hair. He was like a bucket of water while being surrounded by wildfire. He still is, because Tails reminds him so much of Maria that it hurts sometimes, but the nostalgia feels like a reprieve from all the newness so the pain is welcomed. The pain is greeted, given a tour, and then shown its bedroom in his mind.

So sure, he'll give Sonic this one, the fox is his friend, he genuinely likes the fox, the kid is easy to talk to and incredibly sweet, sue him. He neglects to say this out loud anyway, both because it's not a valid answer, and telling Sonic he found companionship in his kid brother makes him want to keel over. He'd never hear the end of it, and the hedgehog already talks enough to power the sun.

"I think I like when it rains." He says instead, just barely catching a distant flash of lightning behind Sonic's head.

"That's a good thing to like, Shadow." Sonic accepts Shadow's answer easily, shrugging his shoulders. "I like the rain too."

"You hate the rain."

Sonic smiles, letting go of his arm. "Yeah, I just didn't want you to feel bad."

Annnddd that's it. This is pre-sonadow technically, but I wrote it with platonic intentions lol. This is pre all Shadow relationships.

I am incapable of not giving Shadow and Tails a wholesome relationship sorry not sorry.

Anyway, this fic is titled I Think I Like When It Rains on AO3. I posted it there a while ago so I decided to put it on Tumblr bc why not.

Please feel free to hit up my DMs or askbox, though if you're requesting I prefer my askbox lol. I am a multishipper if ships are your jam, but I mostly post Sonic and Tails being brothers (NOT A SONTAILS SHIPPER PLEASE DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT THAT LOL)

[hiskillingjar]

i am so obsessed with ur writing 🩷 this is actually really tame but i feel weird requesting it lol. could i get ren (or anyone really) with a reader who has a small chest (boobs? breasts? tits??). havent felt insecure about them in so long until recently and im spiraling. u can go from there with whatever u want. thank u!!

thankl you!! i've been literally all about boobs lately so....yeah alright!

900+ words, fem mc, chest referred to as breasts and boobs. you know how it goes.

Your entire life had a subtext now, which you were beginning to learn during your imprisonment.

You were watching placidly as Ren put together a new anime figure, his little, pink tongue poking out as he carefully lined up each notch of shiny plastic and pushed them together, all contributing to the elaborate diorama that he had probably spent way too much money on.

You might have rolled your eyes at his childish indulgence, his total lack of awareness as he put together a model of a busty cat-girl trying to hold a towel to her heaving chest, had you not been having a slightly…well, self-conscious moment about your own body.

Because there was that subtext now.

The lingering thought of not being good enough for Ren, so much so that he had to fulfil what you couldn't give him with perverted toys and crudely drawn pornography.

"You don't…really like girls like that, do you?" You mumbled, idly chewing the inside of your cheek.

"Hm? Like what?" Ren asked, not looking up from the task at hand as he slid a miniature plastic towel rack into place on the thick base.

"Like," You sighed and rolled your eyes, almost annoyed at yourself for asking. "This character…do you really think she's that pretty?"

"Yeah, of course I do!" He said, looking up like you were saying the obvious. "She's one of my favourites for a reason, you know, she's a total cutie pie. Like, she's depicted as heavier in the manga, obviously, but I really like that the anime was mostly faithful to her body type and skin tone." He was rambling now, as his eyes went back down to his figure and he smiled even wider. "Cus, ya know, you don't tend to see anime with chubbier girls, let alone anime that merchandisers pick up on...."

"Mph," You looked to the side, embarrassed that you had been so self-conscious to begin with. "R-Right…of course."

"What, are you jealous?" Ren then asked, his golden eyes on yours again and a coy smile on his face

"I'm not jealous!" You said quickly, looking back towards him. "It's just…well, i-it's typical that you'd think like that." You huffed and crossed your arms. "You don't actually care about…well, representation or whatever. You just like girls like that."

"Girls like what?" He grinned again, his fox tail wagging as you stammered and over-explained.

"Like…" Your cheeks flushed. "Big boobs and stuff."

"Mm, that sounds like you're jealous. Jealous over a girl that doesn't even exist, hah!" He barked out a hyena-esque cackle and leaned over his desk, bringing his face closer to yours. "Well, what's wrong with liking curvy girls? Obviously, it's important that Kitten-Chan is heavier, for, like, body positivity stuff or whatever, but…I do just think she's really cute. What's wrong with that, huh?"

"Whatever…" You rolled your eyes again. "Forget I said anything."

"No, no, this is way too cute" Ren laughed, pacing to the other side of his desk, and pressing his chest to yours in a close (and non-consenting) hug. He raised his eyebrows with a smile, looking at you more closely. "You're all flustered and stutter-y. It's pretty fun to tease you like this."

"What are you teasing me for?" You murmured, as his hands drifted down your hips, toying with the tie of your pyjama shorts.

"Because it's cute, and because I want to, duh," Ren replied with another little titter, keening in closer and rubbing his nose against your jaw, down your neck. "And you're such an easy target for it too. I mean, look at you." He leaned in and pressed his mouth to your neck, giving you a quick little nip. "You're even defensive about your boob size~"

"I-!" You yelped at the bite, cheeks flushed and your hands trembling down at your sides. "I'm not…defensive about that..."

Ren then raised his head to look you in the eye, his expression nauseatingly smug and his ears raised high.

"Oh, you're not?" He asked, raising a brow. "Sure is looking like it to me, sweetie…"

He then reached upwards for your chin, lifting your head and holding your gaze as his own narrowed, his expression hot and hungry and dripping with that unspoken subtext between you.

"You have no reason to be self-conscious, you know…" He murmured, the hand on your hip reaching up to your chest, idly pawing at you. "I mean, I like curvy girls, sure, but I like you too." He chuckled again and lowered his lips back to your neck, kissing the spot he nipped as he slid his hand down the front of your tank-top and palmed your breast roughly. "You're the one here, after all."

"You say that like it's a good thing…" You sighed, your hands still trembling from the effort you were putting in not to reach forward and grab his hips like he had to you.

"I think it is…" He replied, running his thumb (his claw) over your swelled nipple, and relishing in the little gasp you let out at the contact, the way you jerked and trembled. "And I think you think so, too."

You bit your lip as he reached forward and pulled the front of your tank down, the barely-there heft of your breasts not enough to keep it rolled down completely.

"Don't be so insecure, sweetie," He crooned, both hands now squeezing and groping at your chest indulgently. "I like your small boobs a lot…they're just so cute."

"Mm," You bit your lip to hide a fuller moan, your face flushed and your eyelids fluttering with pleasure as his claws dragged over your nipples again.

"And so sensitive~"

[sunshine-scented]

So, I have a bunch of smut fics coming up (oh dear) and I don't wanna overwhelm my poor readers with too much sin :(. With that being said, here's some cute fluff about Azure Lion! (I wanted Nezha but I didn't think y'all would like ANOTHER Nezha fic hehe, my bad~)

❀ My Big Kitty~ ❀

: How dating the one and only Azure Lion would be like

: Azure Lion x gn!reader

: Fluff!!

Azure Lion

Big calm blue cat!

He's definitely the type of guy who just smiles affectionately whenever their partner is doing some dumb stuff, God forbid what's going on his mind

Always looking out for you, like asking if you ate today, how are you feeling? did something interesting happen?

Loves to listen to you ramble about literally anything, he'd be there attentively taking note on what's making you go on and on so he can bring it up again for you to talk more for him

Finds it really cute when you lay all your weight on him, he's there laying down reading a book and you just plop yourself onto his chest, making him chuckle and start petting your head with his free hand

You never fail to make him smile, if you're baking and some flour got onto your nose, or if your just playing some video games and you panic when you're about to lose

He just likes to stare at you, cause everything you do is so endearing to him ♡

Holds! your! hand! every! time!

He has to bend a lil just to peck your cheek making you laugh on how ticklish it feels, which leads him to putting more kisses all over your face just to hear you laugh more

Loves it when you mess around with his mane ♡ always leans in closer to your hands whenever you start running your fingers onto his head

A gentleman!! He does little things like making you always walk at the right side while he stays left, holding things for you, attentively listening to your rambles whenever you feel like talking his ears off, he doesn't mind doing all this things and I don't think he ever will

Treats you like absolute royalty

You know those love tropes? If Sun Wukong is the Energetic boyfriend and Macaque is the Cat like boyfriend. The Azure is the Worshipper boyfriend ♡

Hand kisses!!! Everytime he greats you he always reaches for your hand and placed a chaste kiss onto your knuckles with a smile

You're the best thing that ever happened to him, and it will stay that way for forever ♡

Okay, time to do all those smut requests. Lord, forgive me for what I'm going to do.

[stonedstargazer666]

More stoned head cannons

So I am stoned once again, and was talking to @ghostlygothicgay Hi BBY ily! And they just gave me "Thinking about date nights with the Sleep Token fellas." and my mind zoned out. So this is literally copied and pasted from the chat lol.

So all of them: Constantly touching your arm, holding your hand. Listening to you talk. and nerd out. Definitely brings you your favorite flowers and chocolates or whatever sweet you like. They Rizz you tf up if you wear a new outfit or style your hair differently for said date. Now here's where they differ Vessel: Little day dates. cafes, mall dates. But on the really special ones he loves to sit slightly off center from you if you're sitting across from him. He likes the way the light bounces off your eyes at certain angles, especially if you're wearing glitter or sum. Reaches over the table to brush hair outta your face, even if you don't have hair in your face. He just thinks that you feel so soft, and he likes it. If given the choice he would rather stay in, have you away from prying eyes. Who needs to go out when he has the greatest meal sitting next to him? II: Goes all out on the date. Table reserved at your favorite restaurant. New outfit laid out on your bed, some new accessories as well. He makes sure you feel so sexy and just like eye candy. He loves showing that your his, arm around your waist, hand resting against the small of your back. If youre sitting across from him, expect constant puppy eyes filled with adoration. If he's sitting next to you, II will pull your legs into his lap. One hand on your thigh squeezing lightly, other hand propping his head up as you talk, or just tracing lazy shapes into your calf. Slowly making plans for later after you two get home. He definitely needs to save room for dessert. III: Now III LOVES showing you off. Makes a spectacle of it really. Will rent a limo, with the works. He is always getting you new outfits and like to match with you in some way. Always. He even takes you on a tattoo date to get matching tattoos. that's way you always match no matter what. HE loves playing footsie under the table, sometimes nudging a foot between your legs just to apply a little pressure before moving away just before the waitress comes. III will drag the date night out, just to tease you. The dinner at the restaurant? oh love, that's only the appetizer. IV: Now IV rolls differently I think. He's more of a late night run to a book store type of guy. He'll still make it a slight deal, wanting you get get a lil dolled up. But nothing extravagant. He purrs when you wear a certain neck accessory. He loves it when it gives you confidence. He loves watching you browse through books, carefully choosing the ones you want. Of course he helps you carry them, making mental notes of books you stare longing at, what books are in a series, etc. It doesn't matter what you're doing, if he stares for too long. His usual calm, relaxed demeanor starts shifting to dominate and possessive. Especially if someone else looks at you the way he does. He immediately moves closer to you, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. Leading you to the register, promising to bring you back. Right now, he needs to get his little bookworm home and lay his claim.

[sunnyie-eve]

21 | Gotta Pick

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Fuck, Marry, Kill game

| MASTERLIST |

Today the guys were filming for a car video and originally Dani wanted to stay in bed and not be in it but the constant begging bugged the shit out of her so she gave in.

"I posted a thing that said car video topics ideas. What do you want us to do? So someone said have one all about Dani. So we have a ton of questions for Dani." Nick tells the car.

"I'm scared." Dani holds herself.

"Just a bunch of random Q&As." Chris tells her.

"Hopefully they won't be too rude or wild." Matt adds.

"First question, what's the stupidest thing you've ever done?" Nick reads off of his phone.

"Change how I dressed for a guy I liked."

"Did it work for you?" Chris asks her, "Or did you look like an idiot?"

"Little bit of both actually." She laughs thinking back.

"Your favorite triplet?" Nick reads them smiles at her so they all look at her.

"Obviously Nick. He is my spirit animal I wish to be at times. You can make me laugh at literally anything." She answers, "I love you two too but Nick takes the trophy." She pats the other two in the shoulders.

"Fuck, Marry, Kill; Sam, Jake, and Corey." Nick laughs reading off to her, "That's funny for you."

"That's actually so unfair." She tells him.

"Just..." Matt starts

"Ahhhh!" Dani yells.

"Colby is gonna love this." He tells her looking back in the mirror.

"That's like if it was you three." Dani groans, "No matter what I answer I'm screwed."

"Just say it." Matt laughs, "Super fast."

"Matt!"

"What?" He laughs more, "I'm trying to help you."

"You're trying to help me?" She gives him a look, "Fuck it. Jake, Sam then Corey." She gives an answer. "I hardly talk to Corey anymore sadly so that's why I killed him. I choose to marry Sam because he like a brother so I know he would treat me well. And just yeah for Jake." 

"Dani, I'm so sorry but the three of us is the next question." Nick looks up at her as her jaw drops.

"Noooooooo!" She whines throwing her head back.

"So you gotta kill one of us." Nick tells her, "Who will it be?"

"Can we label each one different so no one has to die?" She asks so Matt cheers, "And maybe change fuck back to kiss?"

"How about we make it Kiss Marry and Ignore for a week?" Matt suggests for her.

"Can we change kiss to hug?" She asks with a smile.

"Gotta have something to make it still a little difficult." He tells her.

"But why?"

"We can keep it OG?" He tells her.

"Might as well." Chris adds.

"No matter what way I go I can't pick a Nick for the first two options." Dani stats.

"Cause I'm gay."

"Exactly, so I can't kiss/fuck or marry you." She shouts, "I'm so not your type."

"So it's ignore me for a week/kill me." Nick stats.

"So that leaves two of us." Matt laughs.

"What if don't answer?" Dani sits up to lean closer.

"Have to,"

"Convince her why she should pick you to marry." Nick tells the two in the front.

"One, I'm slightly taller than Matt." Chris makes Dani laugh, "Two, I'm funnier. Better looking too." He adds his reasons.

"Why bring up height?" Matt laughs at him too so Dani says that why she laughed, "We're both taller than her anyways so it doesn't really matter to her."

"But I'm still taller than you so hush." Chris tells him.

"But I clean and drive compared to you." Matt points out.

"I drive my husband around." Dani laughs, "Excuse me, I have to go pick my husband up from work. Yeah, I'm his Uber." Dani jokes around making them laugh, "I'd also do all the cooking and cleaning too."

"I'll have my license by then." Chris looks back at her.

"Chris is not winning her over." Nick laughs.

"Honestly, like if I didn't live with you or know you well... I'd pick you for kiss/fu-, I can't even say it." Dani stops herself so they laugh at her, "I refuse to say it while it I look at you." She covers Chris's face with her hand so she can't see him.

"That's fair so you're marrying that thing." Chris nods his head towards Matt so turns with a smile to look back at Dani.

"Don't look at me like that." She laughs as he keeps smiling, "But yeah, I'd marry Matt out of you three. Unlike my reasons with Chris, I pick based on knowing Matt." She explains, "We relate with some things."

"I agree." He nods his head.

"Dani who is your favorite brother?"

"I don't have a favorite nor can I pick out of Colby or Gage." She explains to them.

"But if you had to choose? I'll even mute the audio." Nick tells her so she covers her mouth so no one can read her lips.

"Gage," She says so the guys try not to react so big.

"What to go into detail?" Chris asks so Dani slaps him.

"No, I will not, thank you."

Nick smiles at the next question knowing he shouldn't really bring it up but he wanted to just for fun, "Which Sturniolo is the best looking?" He looks over at her, "You've said to each of us we're good looking but who comes out on top?"

Both Chris and Matt look back at her making her look between them trying not to smile, but it was more like of put on the spot awkward smile. "Umm would it really matter? You're triplets."

"Dani you know we aren't 1000% identical and you have said that yourself." Matt laughs.

All three brothers were waiting for her to give them an answer and she was dreading because how fans would react and take it so out of context. Hell, Colby would lose his mind as well hearing the video.

"Fuck it, I hate you guys. I pick Matt since I'm a Matt girly. When I first saw you guys online, I became one. Now I'm ready to run away." She says then gets out of the car causing the three to crack up.

"Well, that's the end of the car video." Chris keeps laughing, "We have to go get Dani because she literally started walking off from the car." He adds as Nick shout for her to come back.

"BYE BYE!" She shouts still walking away from the car.

"Hopefully we can get her back in the car to go and hopefully she'll be in the next car video as well." Nick says before Matt stops the recording.

[youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars]

PRONGSFOOT SMUT DRABBLE

tags ig: making out, mlm, smut, frottage, coming in pants, hickies, biting, thigh riding, um pet names but the good ones (love/sweetheart), james/sirius, marking, possessiveness (it feels both very obvious and very subtle), slight dom/sub but only a little bit i feel, very self indulgent on the foreplay, choking, dialogue heavy i suppose

This was literally purely self indulgent (i'm a whore for this type of shit don't judge me)/a dare from my other half so...enjoy?

also my first time writing anything like this so don't tell me if it sucks i'll cry (lie if you have to)

•••••••••••••••••

•••••••••••••••••

It was all just a bit of fun really.

Or, well, that's how it started anyway.

"You ever kiss a bloke James?" Sirius had asked, second beer bottle in hand as he sat back on the sofa, legs spread wide–the picture of nonchalance.

"No I suppose I haven't. Just girls," James had replied, sitting crosslegged on the sofa with his back resting against the opposite arm, also on his second beer.

Sirius wished he knew how to think before speaking. Maybe the combined forces of his years long crush on James and the alcohol induced confidence is the reason he didn't keep his mouth shut.

"Would you like to?"

There was silence.

"Yes."

---

It started off innocent enough, Sirius had moved closer to the center of the couch, James doing the same.

"So, what do I do? Do I jus–" James questioned, looking at him with poorly concealed excitement and slight nervousness. Sirius shushes him, smiling reassuringly before leaning in until their lips were a few inches apart.

"Just close your eyes," He whispers, his breath softly fanning James' face. Only once his eyes have fully slipped closed does Sirius carefully close the gap between them, softly pressing their lips together.

It was only a quick press of lips, but Sirius' breath still caught in his throat at the feel of his best mate's lips on his. They pull away, Sirius slowly opening his eyes to meet the slightly blissed out expression on James' face. Seemingly remembering himself, James' eyes flutter open, mouth parted slightly in awe.

"Can I uh-" James licks his lips, dragging Sirius' gaze down to the movement, "Can I do that again?" he breathes, eyes almost slipping closed at the thought.

"Yes please," Sirius replies, breathy. James surges forward to connect their lips again, Sirius catching himself on his hands as the force pushes him back a bit.

James kisses him with vigor, and he finds himself melting into it. A soft moan escapes his throat, encouraging James, who pulls Sirius in by the waist until he was kneeling on the couch, towering above James.

Now with free hands, Sirius brings them up to cup either side of James' face, his glasses pressing into his cheek from the angle. James' arms wrap tighter around his waist as he tilts his head to the left a bit and–

Fuck.

Sirius moans at the change in angle, and James lightly drags his tongue across his bottom lip. Sirius opens up easily and the taste of James floods his every sense.

Their tongues meet and James has to stop himself from letting out a whimper at the sensation. Fuck he wants to devour this man. He brings his hands up to cup Sirius' face before dragging his fingertips lightly down the sides of his throat. Sirius grabs his waist, pulling on the bottom of his shirt, cold hands finding purchase on his warm skin. James shivers at the contrast.

"Can I try something else?" James asks, mouth ghosting over his best mates. Sirius nods once and James lets out a quiet "tsk" in disapproval.

"Words love," Sirius' rolls his eyes as he lets out a soft "yes" in response. James smiles then tilts his head, leaving feather light kisses across his jawline. He grips Sirius' chin in his right hand as he makes his way down the right side of his neck.

Sirius' breath hitches as James reaches a particularly sensitive spot, his eyes falling closed. James grins to himself and closes his mouth around the spot, sucking harshly. He quickly pulls off.

"Fuck-wait-I don't wanna leave a mark you have work tomorrow," James looks at him, concerned.

"I couldn't give less of a shit. Leave as many as you want," a light kiss on James' lips, "please," Sirius moans. James stares, an unreadable expression on his face. Sirius looks at him, brows furrowed.

"What's wr–"

"You're into that aren't you?" James asks, his hand slipping from Sirius' chin to find purchase in his hair. James almost melts at the softness of his long, dark curls. Sirius raises an eyebrow.

"Into what?" James tightens his hand in his hair, pulling just slightly, not missing the way Sirius' breath catches as he tries to maintain eye contact.

"Don't be a brat, you know what I mean." James leans in closer, breath ghosting along Sirius' face, "Being all marked up for everyone to see, showing the world you belong to someone else? You like being owned by someone?" James whispers, giving another light tug to Sirius' hair, who's eyes finally roll back as he whimpers.

"Fuck–I, yes. Yes," Sirius stutters out. James groans, tilting his head back down to the pale boys throat, biting harshly at the junction between his neck and shoulder.

Sirius moans, hands tightening on James' waist, nails digging in to the soft flesh of his sides. James hopes they leave marks.

"Fuck James," James scrapes his teeth across the sensitive area, biting and sucking anywhere his mouth could reach. He felt his blood rush south as his cock twitched in his pants at the sounds Sirius would make every time he bit down. Who knew it felt this good to just give?

Sirius tugs on his hair, making him moan as his grip tightens around Sirius, not wanted to stop.

"James, let me-please" he gasps, tugging on James' hair again. James groans in disappointment as he pulls his mouth away from Sirius' throat.

"James?" James can't pull his eyes away from the absolute mess that is Sirius' throat. Adding the utter debauched look in his best mates' eyes to the rapidly blossoming hickies on his neck, ranging from a light pink to a deep purple (even some with prominent bite marks), he could fucking come right then and there just from looking at him.

"God look at you," James groans, dragging is fingertips over Sirius' throat, pupils blown wide, "i've wanted to decorate this pretty throat of yours for months," Sirius whimpers at his confession, his hand tightening in his hair as he bites his bottom lip to muffle his sounds. James presses his thumb on the edge of his lip, pulling down until Sirius lets go. He surges forward, catching James in another bruising kiss.

James brings his arms tight around Sirius' waist and pulls, dragging Sirius into his lap. Sirius goes willingly, planting his knees on either side of James' thighs. James pulls him closer, gripping tightly by the hips, and the two boys moan loudly as their clothed cocks brush together. Sirius brings his hands up to either side of James' face and pulls away, smirking.

"My turn."

James doesn't get a chance to properly react before Sirius tilts his head and descends upon his throat, returning the favor. Sirius is slow, taking his time making sure every part of James' neck is kissed and bit and sucked. James tilts his head back, letting it rest on the back of the sofa as Sirius continues his assault on the front of his throat. When he reaches a particular spot right above his collarbone James lets out a high pitched whimper, bucking his hips, grip tightening on Sirius who moans in response, sucking harder.

James lets go of Sirius' hips, hopefully covered in finger-shaped bruises, and he rucks up Sirius' shirt just enough for him to get his hands on his bare back. He splays his fingers out as far as they can go, wanting to cover as much of his canvas as possible as he slides his hands up.

He drags his nails down the expanse of Sirius' back as hard as he can. Sirius unlatches from James' neck, throwing his head back as he keens loudly, gripping the back of the sofa hard enough his knuckles turn white, and grinds down hard into James' lap.

"Fuck," James groans, eyes fluttering shut.

He leaves one hand splayed on Sirius' lower back while the other snakes into his hair once more, pulling him down into another kiss of tongue and teeth.

"Oh fuck James," Sirius breathes, hips grinding down to meet James' but hands back on his hips stop him from getting far. Sirius whines in disappointment and James bites his neck in a slight reprimand before moving his lips down to the joint between Sirius' neck and shoulder, sucking harshly. James drags his teeth up the side of his neck, grazing his earlobe just so.

"Say my name again," James whispers, breath tickling Sirius' ear.

"Beg," Sirius grunts in response, grinding down. James stops any and all movement, chuckling harshly.

"You're in no position to make demands sweetheart," He mocks, holding Sirius' hips off his lap.

Sirius groans desperately, rocking his hips but James is holding him an inch or so above his lap. Sirius' eyes roll back at knowing James is strong enough to hold him up without effort. His mind wanders to what other manhandling he could do. Sirius is broken out of his thoughts by another harsh bite on his shoulder.

"James," he moans loudly. James drops him back into his lap, guiding Sirius' hips to grind ever so slowly against his own, "James,"

"Good job sweetheart," James moans bringing their lips together. Sirius licks at his bottom lip and James opens up eagerly.

"James," Sirius chokes as James thrusts up particularly hard.

"Tell me," James whispers, dragging his lips across the shell of Sirius' ear, "tell me what you want,"

"I want," Sirius breathes, eyes fluttering as James trails his lips down the expanse of his neck, leaving a feather light kiss on a rather large hickey on the middle of his throat, "oh god,"

"Mm try again love," James teases, pulling him closer so they're chest to chest. He could feel Sirius' heart beating erratically. No doubt his own would feel the same.

Sirius untangled his hands from James' hair bringing them up to rest on James' cheeks. He leaned down resting his forehead on James', their breaths intertwining between them.

He grinds down into James' lap uttering a quiet "please" but James quickly moves his hands to Sirius' hips, stopping him.

"What did I say?"

"I wanna ride you," Sirius pleads, desperately attempting to rock his hips again, but James' grip held strong. Fuck, they're definitely exploring that later, Sirius thinks.

"My cock or my thigh love," James questions, tilting his head up to capture Sirius' lips in a short kiss. Sirius groans.

"Oh god. Thigh," Sirius gasps, stealing another kiss, "please, I don't think I could make it to your cock,"

"Good boy," Sirius shudders at the praise. James groans, shifting Sirius so he was straddling one thigh, his knee resting against James cock. His eyes nearly roll back as he moans at the pressure.

"You like that sweetheart? Like being called my good boy?" Sirius moans loudly, burying his face into James' neck, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as he moves his hips.

"Fuck that's it love," James groans, dragging out his words between breaths as Sirius' knee ruts against his cock, "Wanna see you get off on my thigh."

Sirius throws his head back, eyes fluttering shut at the sensations filling his body. James hands grip his thighs, throwing his own head back as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh god-fuck-please!" Sirius cries out, grinding faster and faster. James brings one if his hands up to hold Sirius' throat, not squeezing, just resting there. Sirius stutters in his movement, whining as he moves his hand onto James' resting on his throat.

"Please," Sirius moans, squeezing James' hang on his throat. James groans at the sight.

"Say my name," James grunts. Sirius' squeezes tighter on the hand holding his throat but James remains still.

"James please," he begs, "James, James, Ja-" He stutters out a moan as his mouth drops open, James hand tightening on his throat. The pressure on his already thoroughly bruised neck makes him whimper. He grinds down with renewed fervor, thighs shaking as he gets closer to coming undone.

"C'mon love, be a good boy and come for me," James says, thrusting upwards into the delicious friction Sirius' knee provides.

Two thrusts later and Sirius comes with a long moan, eyes rolling back as his vision whites out. James lets go of his throat and holds onto his hips, working him through the aftershocks.

"Fuck sweetheart what a sight you are," James groans, pressing a quick kiss to Sirius' forehead, "that's gotta be one of the hottest things I've ever witnessed," he rubs a comforting hand up and down Sirius' thigh. Sirius laughs lightly before noticing the still hard cock straining against his knee.

"You're still hard," He notes.

He reached down, pressing his palm against James' dick, but keeps it still. James hisses through his teeth.

"Fuck, Sirius I'm so fucking close," James stutters out, head thrown back against the sofa. Sirius hums, turning his head to kiss along James' neck as he starts slowly dragging his palm across his cock. Sirius can feel how big he is even without the added fabric and the thought of that inside him makes his cock give a pathetic twitch. He moves his palm faster.

"C'mon baby, now it's your turn to come for me," Sirius whispers in his ear before pulling him down into a harsh kiss. James thrusts into his palm a few more times before he's breaking the kiss with a groan, hips stuttering as he comes. Sirius continues to palm him softly, working him through the aftershocks as James comes down from his high.

"Fuck."

"Agreed."

James laughs, bringing an arm around Sirius' back as he kisses him lightly. Sirius sighs into the kiss, wrapping his arms back around James' neck.

"For an amateur you sure knew what you were doing," Sirius says playfully. James chuckles lightly.

"I said I'd never kissed a bloke, not that I didn't know what I was doing," he retorts.

"Evidently," Sirius smiles. He goes to shift and then grimaces. "Think we need a shower after that I reckon," James smirks up at him, quirking a brow.

"Round two?"

They rush to the bathroom.