#I gave up towards the end

[miguel-owhora]

tf141 but it's trans force 141

soap :333

someone might shoot me for this but i think soap's the hairiest within 141. price is a runner up, but soap takes the cake. he's fucking hairy all over, from the top of his scalp to his toes, this man is a bear, or a hound dog, prancing around the world with no care.

even pre-t he was hairy, and even before he came out lol. he probably has a lot of both older and younger sisters, and i like to think he's their only brother. he'd get so hissy whenever he was forced to shave; he hated how smooth his body felt, how he used to nick himself, how uncomfortable it felt when his hair used to grow back.

when he came out and got on t, he was so smug about not shaving. he's probably the type of person to slap his sister's shaved legs and make some stupid joke about it, grinning when he'd get smacked on the back of his head. some of his sisters are secretly annoyed that their brother doesn't have to shave, and envy that men's societal norms are different for him.

but sometimes soap does think about shaving when his sister's tug at his hair, either on his legs or arms or chest. it reminds him that he's still their younger brother, and they can and will terrorize him.

anyways :3

soap is hairy, and his hair is dark and thick, and it grows darker and thicker further south. he's especially hairy on his chest, belly, pussy, and ass! oh, and pits, too.

rarely does he do anything with the hair around his pussy; if it becomes a bush, so be it. he has good hygiene so it doesn't become 'bad.' but sometimes he'll trim it; not shave, but trim, so it's not poking out of his boxers and not as itchy.

you literally have to pry his lips apart to get to the good stuff, his pubes are so thick and hairy it hides his pretty cunt and even prettier tcock. his cunt is fat and yummmyyyyy

he's probably the type of guy to shamelessly jerk off anywhere and anytime, pulling his pants down and jerking his cock off in front of his teammates who try to pretend they don't notice, but by the end they're all having an orgy or something.

price :333

he also squirts!!! like a whole lot more than creams lmao. he loves not telling any new partner that he squirts, it's like a gamble. either some people are into it or some people aren't, and it's a risk he's willing to take. his tcock is average, it's not too big but not too small.

honestly, it's a tie between price and soap. price is soooo hairy, i mean bro has a beard and all. anyways, unfortunately he comes in second place.

that being said, he's still so fucking hairy it's insane. hair smothers his pecs and chest, and it runs all over his stomach and arms and shoulders and back, down to his ass and hole, around his thighs and legs and toes and at his pussy !!!

pre-t and pre coming out, he definitely used to shave whenever he felt insecure. but once he came out and started going on t, he stopped looking at razor blades. of course, aside from keeping his beard groomed and keeping his bush trimmed so it's not crazy, he doesn't really do anything.

i feel like his ass is hairier than his pussy. it smothers his cheeks and thickens n darkens around his hole, pretty fluttering thing hidden underneath the mass of pubes. so anytime you eat him out, expect for a couple of hairs to end up in your mouth.

i also think he has a bush, but unlike soap, he regularly trims it. not like to the point where he's, like, hairless, but enough to maintain it—much like his beard, he keeps his pussy hair groomed.

i think he has a pretty big tcock. like whenever he gets hard, it swells up and pokes out of its hood, and i can definitely see price leaning back on something, smoking a cigar in one hand and jerking off his tcock with tbe other hfnffbf

i don't think price squirts, he just creams or whatever. he's definitely into fucking people's mouth with his tcock, and praises you soooo good hgngfh, maybe even squeezes your head between his legs.

also!!! i don't price has a naturally slow metabolism, but the reason he isn't fat is because he's in the army and forced to keep in shape. that being said, once he retires and slows down, he definitely gains weight.

hgngh, price having a belly and thicker thighs and sitting on your face, probably drinking some rich whiskey as you eat him out, sucking on his cock GOD

gaz :333

someone's going to shoot me for this but i don't think gaz is all that hairy !!! sure, he has a couple of hairy spots, like his arms and legs, maybe a thick happy trail, but he's not hairy the way soap or price are.

i don't think he shaves but he's not smooth lmao, idk how to explain it but he's perfect, basically.

speaking of perfect, i think his hole is actually pretty hairy, mostly because im into that. and speaking of his hole, gaz's pussy could be hairy, but this mf trims it. not that he isn't into hairy boypussy, he most definitely is, but he just doesn't like when his own cunt is unhinged.

he refuses to shave so all he does is spend time trimming his bush until it's neat and well-put. he's talented enough to make little designs, like that one time he trimmed his pubes into a stupid little skull and it threw ghost off.

this man has a fat fucking pussy, and i headcanon his tcock to be the biggest. even when soft his cock pokes out a bit, which means it stimulates gaz and makes him fucking weetttttt.

he's the type of guy to lead a humping session with someone, or trib idk. he'll pin them down and slot himself between his legs, maneuvering them until their pussies are rubbing against each other. he won't cum until the other person does, and he'd probably talk them through it gooddddd

gaz definitely squirts!!!! only because i like the idea of folding his legs to his chest and fucking his cunt until he's squealing and gushing around your cock GOD the masturbation bonding moments between him and soap would be wet as hell 😭

ghost :333

im going to rip this off like a bandaid and say GHOST IS HAIRLESS

well, body hair wise. i think he has hair on his head :) bro probably keeps it cropped or something idk anyways

HE'S HAIRLESS FHFNFKFKG

i just cannot imagine ghost with any hair. maybe a very light coating, but he's also both 1. white + 2. has blonde hair, so it's barely noticeable.

idk man he's just hairless, including his ass and pussy. god, that just means he's more sensitive. it's easier for him to accidentally rub against something and it'll get him wet as hell, his decent-sized tcock swelling with desperation.

god imagine hitting his pussy; so pale and smooth, it blossoms red under your heavy hand, he'd be soo teary in the face.

i also think ghost is a crybaby during sex. he's so sensitive and it's quick to get him overstimulated, and don't let his tears fool you: he's absolutely into it.

he's also into people folding him in half and fucking him like he's just a fleshlight, and he'd be embarrassed but god he'd let you spread his puffy lips open just to watch your cum trickle out

[spongebob-connoisseur]

Sympathy for the Devilfish

[chickslovemechickensalsoloveme]

Athena suffers dot png

erm so this is a writing for an au @wyrmswears and I made =^-^= ermm so basically. kristoph defends Simon for ur-1 and he doesn’t go to jail and kristoph mentors athena. this takes place post 4-1, pre 4-4.

the corridor of the prison is familiar at this point. smooth grey concrete, off white floors, dingy bulbs from the ceiling with opaque lampshades, illuminating spotlights in the hall rather then every crevice.

perhaps it’s more accurate that way, Athena thinks. spotlights every few feet, usually parallel to a set of bars built into the wall. whenever she walks under one she feels like there are hundreds of eyes on her, watching her walk out hunched and nervous, holding a stack of papers so tight to her chest the edges are digging into her fingers and giving her papercuts.

very few of the cells in this corridor are occupied, as is standerd the closer they are to the solitary cells. the ones that are are the ones she walks a little faster past, with her ears ringing from nerves so much she can’t even hear whatever it is they tell whenever someone walks by.

She reaches the end of the corridor that leads into the detention center, and goes through the normal checks that happen when one enters and exits a prison.

she keeps her chin tucked against her chest and tries to make herself even smaller then she already is while walking to the door. once she reaches the exit, she can breathe.

but instead of a door, she crashes face first into someone else, both being thrown back. Athena lands on her hands and knees from trying to twist away from whatever foreign contact that was while falling, facing away from them.

the reports, she thinks. they have scattered all over the ground, and she can already see a few of them that she landed on have had dirt from the floors transferred onto them. Kristoph will be upset that they are dirty. he won’t take it out on her, of course. but she knows it upsets him by the spike of discord in his heart and the way he purses his lips when he sees something dirty.

Athena tried to gather them as quickly as possible, both in a fleeting attempt to keep them from getting dirtier and to prevent anyone from seeing what it is she is carrying. almost as if on cue, she sees the person she presumably bumped into reach out and pick up the paper that flew out to the right, and had landed somewhere near their foot.

Oh god. Athena thinks. The profile on the new detective. kristoph requested it after the former detective who worked with him was arrested. he said he needed allies outside in order to expose the real truth, and that included in the police department.

the hand now holding the detectives profile leads up to a body and a face that sends Athena’s heart from skipping to not beating at all. the hair is almost identical, and his eyes and nose are the same. But his skin is a little more tanned, and his clothes are far too… rebellious for kristophs tastes.

Her mind reels itself back in as she realizes, no, kristoph did not miraculously break out of his cell to see her fall and drop the documents he stressed are to be kept an utmost secret all over the detention center floor. Instead she is faced with his younger brother.

“Fraulein.. cykes, was it? What are you doing running out of the prison block like a madman?” His tone is neutral, and unaccusatory in nature, but she picks up the spike of emotions from him and sees the same pinched face kristoph made when he was trying to hold back his frustration.

Athena jumps up from the floor too quickly, making herself dizzy in the process. She has collected all the papers but the one the other Gavin is holding, which he is subtly trying to read while also trying to not make it obvious.

She stumbles over her words so much nothing coherent comes out, just mumbled apologies for bumping into him and dancing around the question he asked. She reaches out for the paper in his hand, and sees her hand is shaking.

“Is this.. a psychological profile? Why are you carrying this in and out of a facility like this?” Suspicion creeps into his voice, but now his face shows concern, and his heart is steadily filling with a combination of fear and dread.

Athena tries to stutter out an excuse, “I.. im just holding these for someone- I need to get going, im ah, assisting simon with gathering some things” her voice shakes so much any chance she had a being convincing has disappeared out of thin air, and as she tries to stumble past him.

Klavier Gavin stops her, putting a hand on her shoulder and while not forceful, prevents her from going past him. “Fraulein. Why are you carrying a stack of psychological reports out from the hall that leads to my brother cell?” She can’t see his face anymore. His heart is full of so many emotions that in the state she’s in she can’t parse them out.

Her mind is flooding with panic and fear and so many emotions that it drowns out the small part of her brain still fighting to come up with some excuse that instead tears just start pouring out of her eyes.

she tries to stutter out something, anything, but instead just sobs, and once again drops the papers to instead cover her mouth and start desperately trying to scrub the tears out her eyes.

it’s ineffective, and only serves to make it harder for her to breath through the hiccuping and the snot that’s starting to dribble out her nose. klavier has shifted from standing beside her to in front of her, and from what she can see through blurry eyes has an incredibly distrssed look on his face, any distrust he was harboring abandoned.

Athena continues to just stand in front of him crying, wiping snot and tears from her face only for more to appear. She recognizes a German swear being said by klavier before being given a very, awkward Pat on the back, that leads into an even more awkward hug.

She accepts it and begins to cry into the man’s shirt rather then her own sleeves, and is guided out of the detention center and eventually into a car, only realizing when her newly acquired tissue gently pushes her into a seat before going around the car and sliding into the drivers side.

The car doors are closed and Athena only briefly looks around before being offered a tissue box and instead refocuses on crying. by the time she has finished there is a sizable amount of tissues on the floor board of the passenger seat, and she is still sniffling, and undoubtedly looking worse for wear.

Athena looks back up, remember she is in the presence of someone who just bumped into her and then watched her have a breakdown. He sits there a bit awkwardly, but looking at her with a concerned, if not pitiful look. “Are you alright, fraulein cykes?”

She tries to open her mouth, but fails to find the energy to do that, much less speak. instead, she just sniffle and rests her head on her knees while rubbing at her eyes.

“Ah, It’s fine if you don’t want to talk. although, you don’t look alright. Is there somewhere I can take you? Home, perhaps?”

Her hands grip into her sleeves as she considers her options. Home? She can’t go there. Not in this state. Simon would want to know why she was in this state, and she can’t explain that to him. She shakes her head no, chin bumping against her knees.

klavier is turned away, obviously thinking. “the prison parking lot isn’t exactly the best place to calm down at, speaking from experience..” he trails off thinking. “Uh, I could take you to my apartment, if you are ok with that? I have a dog. Those usually help people calm down, ja?”

“Why? Why are you trying to help me?” Athena asks, throat rough from the crying. “your heart is screaming, and you obviously don’t trust me, much less know me, so why?”

“Mein bruder.. you have known him for years, ja? I’m simply.. extending a courtesy.” He says, trying to sound cheery but instead of just comes out sad.

Athena tears up again, and in an attempt to stop herself from crying once more, averts her gaze to look around the car. she sees the profiles she dropped, stacked on the enter console, crumbled and dirty.

why am I even doing this? why… why can’t I let go? Athena buried her head in her knees again, while klavier struggled to get a seatbelt around her. “I just want to get away from here” she mumbled, trying to make herself smaller in the car.

the engine started up and the car shifted into driver, and Athena leaned her body against the door in an attempt to stabilize herself, with her cheek pressed against the cold window. in the faint reflection she could make out puffy eyes and red and splotchy cheeks.

What.. even is happening? Is he going to arrest me? Interroge me? Put me in jail right next to his brother? Her thoughts spiraled throughout the car trip, and by the time they stopped and she was climbing out of the car her hands were shaking again.

Athena followed klavier up the stairs, and stood behind him while he unlocked the door, hugging her arms to her chest. “Make yourself at home, ja? The couch is more comfortable then it looks” he gestured over to the living room to the left of the door, and went somewhere else into the apartment.

She sat in the arm of the couch, folding into herself as if she could blend in with the couch as some kind of sad decorative pillow. Klavier walked back in, carrying a glass of water and placing it on the coffee table in front of her, not bothering with a coaster.

that’s going to leave a ring on the table. Athena tried to let her mind wander away from the fact that she was sitting in a near strangers living room and instead on the fact that he didn’t keep coasters to set drinks on. kristoph would tell him that he’s going to ruin the wood like that.

“You’re going to ruin the table like that” Athena echoed her thoughts, all while keeping her eyes on the glass of water. she could hear the couch creak and saw him sitting down on the other end in her peripherals.

“you sound a bit like him” klavier said, voice once again neutral. her eyes snap over to him from the glass and see his eyes downcast and lips pursed.

She bit her lip, trying to find something to say. “I’m sorry” is all that came out, breaking eye contact to turn back to the glass. “i. i dont know why I was there. why im doing this.”

“I… are you ok, fraulein? you are shaking like a leaf.” klavier sounded concerned again. Hand hovering like he wanted to comfort her but also was unsure if he should. Athena just continued to stare at the glass, watching water drip down the side and gather at the base.

“he asked me to help him- to help find.. the real truth. he said that he was framed, that he was innocent. that it was wright he killed the server, but he could prove it from jail.” Words started pouring out of her mouth, and she couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

“I wanted to believe it wasn’t him. he- he saved my uncle. he is- was- one of the good lawyers. who sought the truth.” She could feel her nails digging into her exposed knees, leaving sharp marks in their wake. “deep down I know it’s not true. but I just. i cant.”

klavier sat wordlessly, watching while she talked. “He saved Simon. He can’t be bad- I’ve. Ive known him for 6 years. How can you know someone for 6 years and not know they are a murderer?”

“when he asked me to make a profile, I was too scared to say no. i don’t know why I keep bringing them.” Tears started falling down her face again, choking on her words. “I don’t know why im doing anything at all anymore”

she got too choked up to continue, just burying her face back in her knees. she sobbed into herself, while klavier sat silent in shock.

he was frozen in place, conflicted on how to comfort the crying teenager. before he could move, he heard nails click against the hardwood floors and saw vongole trot into the living room, sliding between the couch and coffee table and pressing her nose into Athena’s hand while her tail thumped against klaviers legs

Athena looked up at the sudden touch, and saw a vaguely familiar dog trying to nudge her hand off of her leg and onto his head. she complied, sliding both her hands down his head and scratching her under her chin.

Vongole jumped onto the couch, and Athena slowly unfolded her legs from her chest and let vongole scoot onto her, her tail now wagging aggressively and hitting klavier in the face while he sat silent in shock.

vongole tried to scoot even closer onto her, licking her cheek, and she let out a quiet giggle. “She was Kristoph’s. The dog, I mean. Her name is vongole” klavier managed to say between her tail swiping back and forth across his nose.

Athena slowed, but did not stop petting vongole, but clearly listening to him. “She never really liked him I think, he never let her on the furniture. Made her sleep in a crate. She seems to like you though” klavier continued.

Athena visibly swallowed, and scratched behind vongoles ears. “Yeah. I think she does” her voice was cracking and quiet, but no longer desperate and scared. Klavier gave a quiet smile, while athena buried her face in vongoles fur.

She was still shaking and hunched over, but no longer guarded, vongole successfully knocking down her walls. Klavier looked away and sighed, staring at a blank wall. Kristoph never makes things easy, huh?

[zarpasuave]

🏮✨Xianyun giving her daughters pretty dresses so they can flex those muscles das right.

Based on this🤭:

[dennylachancerights]

Two-Bit/Soda bestie moment (I spent way too much time on this 😭)

[theultracharmingladynoire]

[stationed-radio]

”So, take my tags, and I’ll takes yours, and if I die in this shitty fucking war, don’t tell them we switched; let me be buried under your name - and some fifty years from now, you can be buried under mine.”

[strwbrryfire]

i. promises oceans-deep, but never to keep

peter - taylor swift

[hexesandroses]

When The Night Is Over - Cain x Lane

How much longer could she pretend, how much longer until she unraveled at the seams and revealed what she truly longed for? Even if apprehension kept her desires at bay, Lane knew that none was invincible in the face of a being so beautiful – herself included.

Slight spoilers for the new episodes.

You can also find this on AO3.

Lane couldn't sleep; she was certain that several hours had passed as she lay awake, listening to the sound of Anna’s soft breathing next to her. The silvery visage of the moon shone through the tall windows, and Lane lay enveloped in its glow, restless, exhausted. Countless thoughts whirled inside her mind. Most of them, she realized, centered around the beautiful angel that she spent so much of her time with. 

I can ignore my feelings during daytime, when there are so many bigger issues to worry about, Lane mused inwardly, but never at night.   

She furrowed her brows, feeling frustrated with herself. That day in the library kept haunting her. Too taken aback by Cain tending to the scrapes on her hands, she hadn’t given his words much thought, though they lingered in the back of her head, always taunting her with all their implications.  

“When you understand all this... I’ll be waiting.”  

She turned to lay on her side, one hand tucked under the pillow while the other rested before her face. Lane was no fool; she knew, deep down, exactly what he meant. It was precisely because of that knowledge that she could not bring herself to voice any of her thoughts to him. How could she?  

Yet the prospect of losing his interest frightened her; the childish hope that he would forever stay by her side remained undefeated, even though he had broken his promise once and could very well do so again.  

Weakly, she slapped herself in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts. She needed sleep. She had to stop thinking. 

So she closed her eyes, and... 

To no avail. 

Lane opened her eyes and was met by the flickering flames of the fireplace. Next to her, Anna slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that her squad mate was going through. Were it not for the state of all things, Lane would have considered her lucky. 

She gazed at the fireplace and thought of burning books and seductive touches. There were traces of Cain everywhere she looked. 

Briefly, Lane wondered if he was asleep. She craned her neck and searched for his sleeping bag in the far corner of the room, only to find it devoid of its owner. Curiosity overtook rationality; as far as Lane was aware, Cain wasn’t on patrol tonight. Where could he have gone? 

The library, she thought suddenly, maybe I can find him there. If he hasn’t disappeared again...  

Carefully, she rose to her feet, tiptoeing between several sleeping bags that lay scattered on the floor. She knew Anna and Kira wouldn’t wake up – warm and cozy as they were, cooped up right by the fireplace – and no one would notice her absence. Her only concern was that the general would hear her footsteps, but then again, Lester’s snoring was loud enough to block out any and all sounds in the world. 

Lane quietly ascended the grand staircase and made her way to the decrepit library. She tried to suppress the shivers that coursed through her body and inwardly chastised herself for forgetting how much colder it was on the second floor.  

What am I doing? What am I hoping to find here? 

Indeed, what was she hoping to find? Cain sitting in the library, waiting for her? Why would he even come here at this hour? Even if he was there, what would the two of them do, what would they talk about? Lane always followed that which intrigued her, but she had to admit that this was pure nonsense. None of her thoughts made sense anymore – not the ones pertaining to Cain, at least. 

She collected herself. She’d come this far; might as well go through with it.  

Lane decided that hope was worthless and prepared herself for disappointment, lest she return to the squad in a bad mood. Still, her heart hammered against her chest when she stopped before the door to the library. Wrapping her fingers around the doorknob, she slowly opened the door and found... 

Nothing.   

Lane bit her lip. This was a waste of time; she was acting a fool for absolutely nothing. She would look back on this moment the following morning and feel puzzled by her own thought process.  

She couldn’t leave, though, for the sight of the dusty little library reminded her of careful touches and small, barely contained smiles; of huge, white wings enveloping her and of one earnest plea. 

“If you want me to be kind, then teach me.”  

Such a difficult request. At times, it felt as if he was more human than Lane could ever be.  

She was about to close the door and turn back when she sensed a presence behind her. The change in the atmosphere could be felt – from cold and bleak, to hot and all-consuming – Lane didn’t have to guess twice to know who it was. 

“You should be sleeping.” 

Cain’s smooth voice jumbled all her thoughts. When she turned to meet his gaze, Lane felt her heartbeat pick up the pace; it was hard to think about anything at all when he was around.  

His steel blue eyes twinkled with thinly-veiled curiosity. Lane had never paid much attention to the way he looked at her before, too preoccupied with chasing after answers, obsessing over her goals – but now, she felt small under his gaze. She could almost feel him picking her apart, searching for a confession in her silence.  

“Were you following me?” She asked, to which Cain shook his head. 

“I couldn’t sleep and happened to hear someone pacing the estate,” he said with a small smile, “it shouldn’t surprise me that it was you.” 

If there was even the tiniest hint of fondness in his tone, then Lane pretended not to hear it.  

Noticing that she had no intention of answering, he then added, “were you longing for this musty room in the middle of the night?” 

“I wanted to clear my head,” Lane said simply. It wasn’t really true, but then again, when had they ever been fully honest with one another? 

“What bothers you?” 

You, she thought. Your words, your eyes, your presence.   

But Lane would never say that aloud. “The Book.” 

All warmth left Cain’s expression upon hearing those two words. It was strange – that sudden shift in mood which Lane felt that she couldn’t keep up with.  

His eyes were narrowed in something akin to disappointment. Lane, suddenly fearing that she would lose his interest, offered, “let’s go inside.” 

It seemed that just the offer was enough to soften him, for Cain said, “you’re shivering.” 

“I don’t feel it,” Lane shook her head, even though she had been shivering since the moment that she ascended the staircase. “Will you come in?” 

Cain gave in quicker than she had anticipated. He waited for her to enter first then followed after, careful not to hit his wings against the doorframe. In hindsight, coming to the library, of all places, had been a terrible idea; it was worn down, dirty, and the old windows rattled with the wind, letting freezing air seep through the cracks in the window frames. Lane regretted not going to her and Anna’s shared bedroom instead, but as she stood before Cain, all alone in that terribly cramped library, she found that nothing else really mattered. 

“You shouldn’t stay here for long,” Cain broke the silence first, “you’re not an immortal. You’ll get sick before you know it.” 

Bits and pieces of Cain’s humanity shined through each time it came to Lane and her well-being. Had he been hiding it carefully all along or was he blind to its existence? No matter the answer, Lane felt honored, special for being the one to see it. She smiled before she could stop herself. 

“Are all angels so concerned with the health of the mortals?” 

Her eyes immediately fell to the little spot by the bookshelf where they sat together that day. She could still feel Cain’s long, thin fingers wrapped around her wrist as he tended to the little cuts on her hand – a phantom touch that would never fade. 

Cain rolled his eyes, albeit without any venom. “Does it look like they are?” 

She didn’t need to say something so obvious aloud.  

Talking felt so impossible at night. Lane was afraid that it would only take a word from her lips to pop the bubble they were in – but then again, someone like Cain could see right through her. Did he know that all her thoughts revolved around him? Was that why he stayed? 

“You’re tired,” he broke her out of her thoughts. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and added, “if you’re done admiring this cozy little library, then you should head back to the others. You have a long day ahead of you.” 

“Don’t you?” Lane retorted. The words were on the tip of her tongue: I don’t want to leave yet. I want to stay here with you.   

“I’m not the squad’s only cryptographer.” 

“But you’re its only angel.” 

Cain huffed in amusement. “We have Anhea.” 

Lane bit the inside of her cheek. Why couldn’t she just say it? Frustration bubbled in her chest; this was too much. She could banter with him endlessly during the day, meet him half-way whenever he teased her too much, but now all words failed her and Lane looked like a fool – a sad, desperate fool who did her best to keep Cain’s gaze fixed on her. She felt as if she had failed miserably, and the feeling only strengthened when Cain spoke once more. 

“I’ll walk you to the others. You’ll be safe and warm there.” 

“I feel safer with you,” the words spilled from her mouth before she could process them. Instantly, her breath hitched in her throat, and Lane fought every urge to avert her gaze as she watched Cain’s eyes widened just enough for her to notice. They glimmered red for a moment – a thing so inexplicable yet mesmerizing to witness – and then they returned to their usual steel blue, just like that. 

“I have put you in harm’s way more than once. I could do it again.” 

“You didn’t mean to do it,” Lane murmured, unsure, “at least, that’s what I’d like to believe. If you wanted to harm me, you would have done so already.” 

Cain studied her closely. Curiosity, fascination, desire – all contained in the brilliant blue of his eyes. It took nothing more than a single look for him to understand her inner workings; Lane knew he had her figured out when the corners of his lips pulled upwards in a small, teasing smile. 

“Ignorance is charming. What if I won’t be able to protect you?” 

“You promised.” 

“Is it just my protection that you want?”  

Lane froze. Time stood still as his words rang in her head, over and over. How much longer could she pretend, how much longer until she unraveled at the seams and revealed what she truly longed for? Even if apprehension kept her desires at bay, Lane knew that none was invincible in the face of a being so beautiful – herself included. 

But she couldn’t say it, not yet. The truth would break them out of their ephemeral fantasy and ruin everything that they shared. 

“I don’t understand you,” she lied, hoping that Cain couldn’t see the slight tremble of her hands. He approached with slow, calculated steps until they were separated by just an inch of space, until Lane could feel his breath on her skin. 

Warm, warm, warm, just like that time in the monastery; he was all she could see, all she could feel. Cain was desire embodied, a temptation that Lane struggled to reject.  

“But you’re here anyway,” his alluring tone made it harder to breathe. Lane clenched her fists, doing her utmost to ignore the way his wings wrapped around her form as if by instinct.  

She breathed, “I just wanted to clear my head.” 

To which Cain smiled, “is it working?” 

His cold hands wrapped around her wrists and Lane desperately willed her heartbeat to slow down. Cain was no angel – his touch invited the most lustful of thoughts and his eyes, which bore into her own, reflected a desire for something, someone. 

“No,” Lane said, unable to conceal the truth, “my thoughts are in disarray. I don’t know what to do.” 

Cain’s eyes glinted red. One of his hands slowly trailed her arm, her shoulder, until it settled on her neck. The cold of his palm sent shivers down her spine, but Lane stood still, patiently anticipating his next move. 

How would they face one another in the morning? Would the others notice that something had changed between them?  

Does it matter?  

“If you really don’t understand yet,” said Cain, “then you can return to the others and pretend this didn’t happen – and I will keep waiting until you change your mind.” 

There was a softness in the way he spoke that soothed Lane’s tired, overwhelmed soul. One more word and she would melt against him, place her empty heart in the palm of his hands and ask him to take care of it. There was no use in pretending any longer. Lane had signed herself up for this on her very first day in the estate, when Cain’s breathtaking visage lured her in like a lamb to the slaughter. 

Thus, Lane laced their fingers together and marveled at how quickly Cain’s nonchalant facade shattered. “I want you near... more than your protection. Don’t disappear again.” 

She thought she imagined his breath hitching. 

“Is that so?” 

Lane nodded, noting that his icy hand in her own suddenly felt like anything but. “Just this. I won’t ask for anything more.” 

“You should,” Cain breathed, leaning in closer, closer, “you can ask for anything. I have been waiting for you to ask.” 

“I’m not sure what I want,” Lane confessed quietly. She hadn’t planned this far; this had already gone way beyond her expectations. Still, as if by instinct, her gaze lowered to his parted lips and she thought, oh. Are they as soft as they seem?  

The angel noticed her staring and almost chuckled before he murmured, “it seems you’ve figured it out.” 

Before Lane could protest, Cain closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers in a tender kiss.  

She couldn’t move, at first. Surprise and cluelessness had enveloped her whole for a brief moment – what now? What did she have to do next? Lane peered at Cain as he moved his lips against her own, willing her to reciprocate. His brows were furrowed, his eyes closed shut, his snow-white hair fell over his forehead and he looked every bit angelic. If Lane had known that he could somehow appear more beautiful than he already was – like this, exactly like when he kissed her – then she would have confessed sooner.  

Closing her eyes, Lane tentatively returned the kiss, and immediately the pair of white wings around her drew her body closer to his. She was pressed against his chest – not unlike the time he took her into the sky, but better, so much better. Why had she waited so long for this? His lips were sweeter than wine, softer than the clouds that had caressed her body when she flew straight towards the earth that day – until Cain caught her, because he would always, always catch her. He did it even now, for Lane’s knees were so dangerously close to buckling. She breathed him in, invited him to kiss her deeper; Lane parted her lips a tad more, allowing his tongue to roam the inside of her mouth. Every touch, every movement of his lips lit her body aflame. She could confirm it now: Lane was alive, wholly, entirely alive. Although her mind was muddled, it was all she could think about – I'm alive.  

She wished this moment could last forever: just the two of them, wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing until they could no longer breathe. Would he let her? If Lane asked for it, would he give it to her? Would he do his best to draw another sigh from her lips, turn her pliant in his arms? 

If only. If only there was no tomorrow, no responsibilities that lay like a burden on their shoulders – they would have tried, then.  

Disappointment bloomed in her chest once Cain pulled away. She breathed heavily, gazing at his reddened face all the while, whereas Cain rested his forehead against hers ever so gently. It was all so new; the tenderness, his soft caresses.  

“You stopped shivering.” 

Lane hadn’t even noticed, lost as she had been in the angel before her. 

“I feel warm,” she answered, to which Cain smiled. 

“The general would’ve been disappointed if you caught a cold.” 

“The general?” Lane repeated. “Or you?” 

Cain looked to the side in an almost shy manner– had he always been so endlessly endearing? “Don’t get too bold, Lane.” 

She would have to teach him something about kindness after all. 

[sloshys]

Kids called fungles

[oneluckydragon]

"Suddenly the world was gray and dull and my heart was so heavy I felt like I couldn’t move, let alone make it back to Treasure Town. But because of Echo’s last wish… I was able to keep living.”

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

SORA : (Partner)

Abilities: Justified / Inner Focus

Nature: Gentle / Hardy

Moveset: Aura Sphere / Metal Claw / Poison Jab / Dragon Pulse

[oddthingsndaydreams]

Somedays the artblock wins. Somedays inspiration smashes you like a cadillac on a random dashboard recommend. @transformers-synergize your redesigns are so pretty ;^;

[bannuu]

Wonderland🐰🐱🌹

Finally starting to draw other twst characters!

[jeonqkooks]

Can I request first time obs jungkook realized he started to have feelings for oc?

our beloved summer; a drabble

Jungkook likes lavender and jasmine. He likes navy blue sweaters and a perpetually grumpy face, looking a black cat who’s just been disturbed from slumber. He likes gold rings on dainty hands, black nail polish almost always covering neatly trimmed nails. He likes New York Yankees baseball caps on bad hair days.

Jungkook looks for that intoxicating scent of lavender and jasmine wherever he goes, scrunching his nose in distaste every time he catches a whiff of some overwhelming floral perfume on someone that isn’t you.

At parties, he looks for the dainty hands with the black nail polish and golden rings, wrapped around a red solo cup. It always makes him smile widely in delight when he spots you in a corner, talking animatedly with Taehyung and Jimin.

He looks for that navy blue sweater and Yankees cap whenever he’s on campus, even on days where he knows you aren’t scheduled for class or a shift at the library. If he looks hard enough, thinks about you hard enough, then maybe you’d pop up for whatever random reason - to bug a professor into reading the essay you wrote for extra credits, to stop by the campus cafe because you have a massive craving for their watered down chai latte, to show up just because there’s a certain someone silently manifesting that you would.

Jungkook likes pretentious Moleskine journals and 0.7mm Muji gel ink ballpoint pens. He likes the vivid scowl in your voice when he gets on your nerves and the middle finger you always flip him. He likes the tiramisu from that bakery down the street from Taehyung and Jimin’s apartment, just because you seem to like it so much. Hydrangeas remind him of you, so he likes them too.

Jungkook likes the things you like and he’s not sure why. He likes that these are the things that make you happy, that always bring a smile to your face and he likes seeing you smile. He’s almost never on the receiving end of said smile, but he still likes it.

He lays in bed, bored out of his mind and tempted to seek you out just to be a nuisane but he knows you’re in a class right now. He drifts back to what Taehyung said to him last night after he’d show up to the library, thinking he’d get to spend time with you but had found Taehyung instead.

“The whole ‘boy pulls girl’s pigtails’ approach you have going on is painfully obvious, you know.”

Jungkook isn’t stupid.

(Though if you were there at the time, he has no doubt that you would have argued the opposite.)

Maybe Jungkook does know why he likes the things you like. Maybe it’s because whenever they pop up in his head, you’re the one that always accompanies the thought and takes over his mind completely. Maybe that’s why he finds himself thinking about you before he goes to sleep just so you would show up in his dreams too. Maybe that’s why you’re often the first thing he thinks of shortly after opening his eyes in the morning, wondering if he’ll get to see you around that day.

Maybe it’s an explanation for why he feels so warm whenever he imagines your face even when he’s doing the most mundane of things, like walking to the corner store or putting away laundry.

Taehyung was right. Jungkook didn’t stop by the library on a random Wednesday evening because he wanted some bro bonding time. He wanted to come because you usually work Wednesdays, and the idea of keeping you company under the guise of bothering you sounded a lot better than staying home and daydreaming about you.

He then thinks about what Taehyung said before he left, calling him back just to tell him that like Jungkook, you wouldn’t be going home for the break either.

He doesn’t know why Taehyung told him that. Probably because he feels bad that neither him nor Jimin would be here in case you need them, not that you would admit if you needed them anyway. Or perhaps Taehyung was trying to give Jungkook a nudge in the right direction.

What direction that is, he can’t say for certain.

What he does know is he wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear that you’ll be spending the break by yourself while everyone else goes home to their family, because it sounds like something that would make you a little sad even if you’re not big on the holidays. He’s never seen you sad before, but the idea of it is one that he already hates.

Jungkook doesn’t want you to be alone. He doesn’t want you to be sad. He wants to see you smile and he wants to do everything in his power to make sure that you keep your smile, even if it isn’t directed at him.

No, he isn’t stupid. He isn’t stupid but he might still be a little dense sometimes. He supposes he’s known it all this time, known it for months since the second ever conversation you’ve had together. It’s no one’s fault but his own that it took Taehyung bringing it up for Jungkook to realize why the things you like are so endearing to him, why his heart does dumbass little skips to the mere thought of you.

[onyanjune]

fem yandere x gn reader

cw: implied dub/noncon at the end, my first time writing yan so… yeah.

notes: she’s an oc of an original fic i’ve had in my drafts for a few years now. she isn’t even a love interest but i realised that she has so much yan potential that this basically birthed itself. so i had to get it out there lest it remain a dusty af draft.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who’s been your best friend ever since you reincarnated into the body of an extra in a light novel that you planned on reading. At least, until before you unceremoniously died and woke up at the funeral of the character whose body you were currently possessing.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who cried when she first saw your confused self tumble out of the coffin at your funeral, the cold fingers and glassy eyes of your character’s corpse still fresh in her memory.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who took it upon herself to look after your safety and wellbeing. The family of the character you reincarnated as took care of her when she had to flee her kingdom, so the kind and loving protagonist felt compelled to return the favour.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who persuaded the prince, her first love interest, to let you stay at the palace for protection. After all, the assassin who had mistakenly killed you in her stead may try to take more attempts on your life.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who convinced herself that the fact that you were in closer proximity to her now was merely a convenient bonus. How was she supposed to spend time with you given her job as the princess’ governess otherwise?

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who ignored the prince’s advances in favour of sharing afternoon tea with you instead. Lately, the only respite she’s been able to get was in your company, where your endless musings and intrigue of the world around you managed to drown out the ghosts of her family seeking vengeance. It was as if you were a newborn babe, looking at an entirely new world.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who hates the growing intimacy between you and your personal guard. After losing her family and home, no way was she going to lose your time then your affection to a measly knight.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who comforts you as your fury barred its fangs when it was revealed that your guard was an assassin. He was desperate for money, she croons in your ear, the ever-compassionate protagonist blaming the vice of gluttony for leading your guard astray. Oh the sweet, gentle protagonist. How incapable of wrongdoings she was.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who locks you away once she wins back the throne of her fallen kingdom, conquering yours and the one that tried to kill her in the first place.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭! who dreams of the family she was going to start with you. Her own beloved siblings were as plentiful as the stars in the heavens, so it was only natural that her children grow up in a large family as well. You don’t have to worry about a single thing! She’s been researching about fertility and impregnation magic and technology so just leave everything to her. ♡

[the-woman-upstairs]

Glen Powell is not working his ass off to bring romantic tension and visible yearning back to movies only for his kissing scenes to be left on the cutting room floor!