#I love all the things that make people tilt their heads

[corkinavoid]

Hey, @confused-they, this is for you and for everyone else who wanted more of this AU. Merry Christmas.

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 4]

[<- part 3]

[Written to 'Tantrum' by Ashnikko]

TW: mentioned mild gore (some inside parts become outside ones, nothing graphic)

Tim can't breathe.

Joker's mad laughter is ringing through the darkness of the warehouse, echoing in his head, the screeching sound straight out of nightmares. Hood should be nearby - as in, somewhere in this darkness along with him - but Tim can't think about that, his own maniacal giggles bubbling in the back of his throat, a grin tugging at his lips.

He has to get up. He has to stand, he has to fight, and it really shouldn't be this hard.

But he can't breathe.

Tim clutches his fingers on the fabric of his suit on the chest, distantly wondering if this is how Danny feels when he is more human than ghost. Probably not, he mentioned that breathing is only optional.

He really wants his boyfriend right now. His fiance. Whatever, he wants Danny, he wants his cold hands on his cheeks and the faint, humming purr of his core that Tim finds nice to fall asleep to, and-

Maybe later. He can't exactly summon him now, not in the middle of a fight, especially not in the middle of a fight with Joker of all people.

There's an angry growl somewhere to Tim's left, staticky through the voice-modulator. Then several sounds of gunshots and a gleeful, taunting yell of the madman.

Hold on.

Tim snaps his eyes open - not that anything changes, everything is still pitch-black around him - and blinks.

Why not?..

It's not like Danny is a civilian. Tim tends to pay little attention to the fact since the King of Infinite Realms doesn't hang out with the whole superhero convention on principle. But Tim is pretty sure he won't mind it this once.

Besides, Tim is so done with Joker that it's not even funny.

A few breathy chuckles escape his throat as he lets his body fully slump back on the floor and brings his left hand to his face, placing a quick kiss on the Ring through his glove. He doesn't need to do that, not really, but it's kind of a ritual at this point, and the gesture somehow makes him feel better.

"Danny," he whispers.

For a long moment, nothing happens.

Then, there's a soft, popping sound, and his beautiful boyfriend is floating right over him, faintly glowing and a little sleepy. Tim is momentarily distracted by his bare feet and pj pants with tiny rockets on them.

Danny yawns and tugs the hem of his t-shirt down as it starts to float. "Whas'sup," he mutters, rubbing his eyes and clearly not fully awake, and Tim's heart melts instantly. He loves Danny. He just... He loves him, okay? He loves that Danny didn't question his summons for a moment, he loves that he came even though he was obviously sleeping, and he loves that Danny is wearing a tee he stole from Tim.

Unfortunately, before he is able to get his shit back together, another sound of gunshot ripples through the air, and Danny startles, blinking himself awake and looking in the direction of it. Then, his eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth makes a soft 'O' shape before he turns back to Tim and tilts his head in question.

"You want me to deal with him? The clown, I mean, not your brother," he asks, and it's so casual and off-handed that Tim actually huffs a laugh.

"Sorry, I was just- I'm really tired of his ass," Tim should probably sit up, this is not a talk they should have while he is lying on the ground. On the other hand, Jason is somewhere out there, and he has guns and doesn't have a clear visual around him, so maybe Tim shouldn't sit up.

Danny hums, "Is that a yes?"

Tim just nods. He is pretty sure Danny can see him despite the darkness. "I promise it's a one-time thing, I don't plan on calling you every time one of local lunatics acts up. I just... I fucking can't with him," he admits with a defeated sigh. But, before he can spiral any further into the abyss of unworthiness, Danny's cold hands are cupping his cheeks, and his icy eyes are looking right into Tim's sky blue.

"Love, I don't mind getting rid of each and every one of your Rogues. Granted, it would probably fuck up the timeline, and Clocky would be mad, but I'd do it if you want me to, no questions asked." His voice is quiet, and Tim has never been more grateful for his domino mask, because he can feel his cheeks heating up and he doesn't want Danny to see the exact effect his words are causing.

"I- Okay," he quietly agrees, and then blinks, backtracking, "Wait, no, don't fuck up the timeline. Just deal with the laughing bitch this once, and that's it. We can handle the rest."

Danny is smiling at him in that adoring way Tim recognizes as 'I really want to kiss you, but it's not the time or place'. Then, he nods and lets go of Tim's cheeks, straightening up in the air, and his clothes shift all at once, like a magic trick.

Gone are the stretched out t-shirt and the pants with rocket ships. In their place, Danny's body is head to toe covered in stars and galaxies that hold the vague shape of armor, and there's a slightly shimmering, blueish-green translucent cape over one of his shoulders.

The Crown over his head, the sentient artifact much like the Ring on Tim's finger, appears from nowhere, and, after a brief pause - Tim swears it was debating on whether or not the situation is worth the effort - promptly sets itself on fire. Blue flames cast long shadows on Danny's, no, King's face, making him look older and his cheekbones sharper.

Before, the boy was only faintly glowing, and, evidently, the others present in the warehouse were too distracted to notice him.

But now, with the flaming Crown casting dancing shadows on the walls of the warehouse, it's really hard not to see the otherworldly being making an appearance.

"Holy fuck," Tim hears Hood's quiet, astonished voice, and almost cracks a grin.

Yeah, he wants to say, that's my boyfriend. Although he suspects he and Jason are having vastly different reactions to Danny's presence. Because Tim kind of wants to take all his words about dealing with Joker back and take Danny home, straight to bed.

...He is going to have to strangle Jason in his sleep if his reaction is similar. No, that's a wrong thought, this is so not the time for it.

"Who are you, flying glowstick?" Joker sounds rightfully pissed off by the interruption, "Does Batsy employ alien kids now?"

Danny chuckles, the starry freckles on his cheeks glowing brighter, "Okay, just because you compared me to an alien, I'm not going to completely erase you from this plane of existence."

Tim snaps his head up.

"Wait, no killing," he reminds, not because he actually cares but because B would throw a fit. Danny brushes him off with a wave of his hand.

"No worries, he'll stay alive," he smiles at Tim, and to everyone else, it probably looks like stuff of nightmares, sharp, pointy teeth and lips stretched out far beyond human capabilities. But Tim sees it for what it is: a face of mischief.

"Do I get a vote in this?" Jason's deadpan voice comes from somewhere on the other side of the warehouse at the same moment as Joker screeches in rage, "Who the fuck do you think-"

"Nope," Danny pops the 'p', and Tim is not sure if he is answering to Hood or refusing to listen to the clown's monolog by it. Maybe it's both. It's probably both.

The next moment, Danny is gone, disappeared from the place he was floating at, and Tim hears a wet, very unpleasant sound followed by Joker's scream of pain.

"You see this?" He hears Danny's nonchalant, unfazed voice above the clown's pained cries, "This is your rib, bitch- Hey, quit whining and listen to me, it's important."

There's a slap, a rustle, and a sound of ripping fabric, and Joker's voice becomes muffled, like someone put a gag in his mouth.

"You're like Adam now, you know, lacking one rib," Danny continues, "Only I'm not making you a girl out of this one, I'm pretty sure you don't deserve to reproduce. Anyway, going further down that metaphor, I'm the God almighty in this situation, so if you want to keep the rest of your ribs - and the rest of other things that are supposed to stay inside of you - to yourself, you gotta do a thing for me, okay?"

There's some muffled groans that Joker makes in response, then an enraged growl, a sound of a struggle, another slap, and then that same wet, disgusting squelch.

"Two ribs, wow, okay, you're really being difficult about this!" Danny sounds so innocently dumbstruck about it that Tim suppresses a laugh. "Are you listening now?" There's a quiet, choking wheeze that answers him, and Danny sounds quite pleased when he says, "Great."

Tim debates if he should look. He doesn't exactly want to since the sounds provide enough context, but it might be somewhat cathartic for him.

And then the air around him inexplicably shifts, becoming cold and oppressive, weighting Tim down like a heavy blanket and pushing him into the floor. The dancing shadows and the blue light of flames on the walls twist and churn, like taking aim, and Tim doesn't know what Danny looks like right now but he knows he is as far from human as possible, his voice coming with a staticky, echoing whisper, a threatening hiss slithering inside Tim's ears.

"Play your little games all you want, Fallen Jester, but know that you can not win. The punchline to your joke is long overdue, and your soul has belonged to me for quite some time now," his words are cold and uncaring, and in all the time Tim has known his boyfriend, he has never heard him speak like this: with a sense of lazy power, like he is only humoring the people around him.

Like they mean nothing to him.

"I will not kill you, or at least not here and now. My Guiding Star doesn't want to see my hands dirty with your filthy remains. Besides, death is only a moment, and you don't deserve only a moment of suffering," he huffs a short, humorless chuckle, "But, luckily, I am the Eyes of the Universe, the Titan's Bane, the King of the Dead, and everyone will meet me once their eyes fall shut for the last time," there's a smile in his voice now, full of cold and merciless anticipation. Tim feels a shiver run down his spine.

"So just you wait, Jester, and I will meet you on the other side. Then we'll see how whatever is left of your soul is going to spend an eternity."

Tim's ears are ringing with the pure, somehow gleeful hatred that laces those last words. He didn't know he could literally taste the disgust and the promise of pain, and yet, here he is, with a hint of something sour on his tongue.

And then, the heavy, weighted air that has been charged with power is lifted, the shadows and bright blue lights are all gone, and Danny, wearing his pj's and smiling, is standing over him. His feet are planted on the ground for once, and the Crown is gone without a trace, but his t-shirt is still trying to float up. The boy tugs it down again, offering a hand to Tim.

"Wanna go out for a burger since I'm already here in Gotham?"

Tim had never breathed easier in his life. He laughs a little and reaches up, taking his beautifully unhinged boyfriend's hand and standing up.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[lowkeyerror]

Just Hold Me

Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Notes: Fluff x 100, comfort x 1 million, very soft

Summary: You had a rough day and Rio wants to comfort you, but she wonders if she's doing enough.

An: The yearly fluff I post after Christmas. Soft as a bunny's tail.

Masterlist

Love was such a strange thing. Tangled up in emotions like hurt, betrayal, and longing, but also bathed in happiness, care, and optimism. It was complex enough with normal people, but you had fallen for Death itself.

Loving Rio was like loving a hurricane. It was wild and even if some things were predictable, you couldn’t always prepare for what was to come. Having a trail of destruction behind her was a part of her job.

It was something she only found shame in when she was with you. She didn’t want you to think that of her. The truth being, that you never could. It was what had drawn you to her in the first place. Death didn’t scare you, not at all. Falling into her embrace felt like destiny. You’d tell her, but Rio was never one for fate, she said if anything it was an omen.

She was so scared of the consequences when it came to being with you. She tried to go against her urges, but you were patient. In her mind you’d forget her and move on with someone more suitable, but you never did. You knew what you wanted and it was her.

There would never be anyone to come close.

Rio was a good girlfriend. She was affectionate, and as attentive as she could be. There were still some things that she was uncertain about when it came to her emotions. After all she had only learned them from her limited experience in other relationships and observing others. She had seen a lot, but that didn’t mean she understood it all.

So when she appeared in your home to find your curled up on the couch, hidden by a blanket, she simply tilted her head to the side before approaching you.

“Love?”

You heard her voice, but felt like you couldn’t move or speak. Instead you let out a soft hum in response. It caught Rio off guard, she was still assessing the situation, but it wasn’t looking good.

She stepped into your point of view, crouching so that she could meet your eyes. She was taken aback by the sadness in them. The bags under your eyes were dark and heavy. Rio pouted seeing the red hues scattered in them.

She reaches out cautiously to hold your face in her hands. Her touch was warm, it made you briefly close your eyes.

“What happened?” Rio’s voice was soft, as if she was scared of pushing.

However you weren’t like the lovers of her past. You wouldn’t push her away, so you took a deep breath trying to muster up your voice.

“Hold me,” you managed to murmur.

Rio was quick to shed her work clothes and create more comfortable attire for the sake of both of you. You briefly sat up on the couch, only enough for the Green Witch to slip behind you. Once she was behind you, you tugged her arm over your body. You held it in place keeping her hold on you tight.

Rio places a delicate kiss on the back of your neck, “I'm not going anywhere."

For a while you stay in that position silently. Neither of you break through the quiet. Rio thinks she’s eventually going to hear your breathing level but it doesn’t.

“Long day,” you mumble against her hand.

“I think I know something about those,” Rio threaded her fingers through yours.

You let out a small laugh, “I bet you do.”

You feel the time shift again. You turn to face Rio who scans over your features again.

“Is there something I can do?”

You see the worry in her eyes and it makes your heart swell. The smallest furrow in her brow, the usual mischief in her eyes is gone, her tone is missing the teasing edge.

“Just this,” you bury your head in the crease of her neck.

You inhale deeply, her scent always grounds you. That specific scent of earth freshly hit with rain. You could get lost in her aroma, it almost makes you feel like you’re outside. You can feel her skin cooling, which only submerges you deeper into the fantasy.

Now both of her hands hold you. She kisses the top of your head. Rio is still uncertain about it she should be doing more for you. This didn't feel like enough. She wanted to destroy whatever it was that made your day so hard. Seeing you in this state was tugging at her heart strings.

She began to trace patterns into your back. You didn't mind, you like having her hands on you, being this close together. It helped you feel safe.

“Are you sure it’s enough,” Rio whispers, insecurities gnawing at her.

You pull back just enough to look at her, “Rio Vidal you’ll always be enough for me.”

Your words knocked the wind right out of her, she felt her face getting warm under your gaze, but she wasn’t trying to hide it from you.

“I’d do anything for you, you know that? Legal or illegal. If I need to go fuck up your boss I will. If I need to pop your annoying coworkers tire, I will. If you needed me to hunt down a Karen I-"

“I know,” you cut her off.

“All of the above?” Rio wriggles her eyebrows playfully.

You move to sit up and she sits beside you.

You rub a hand over your face, “Work was fine, I guess. A few difficult customers, but nothing out of the ordinary. I don’t really know why, but today just felt harder to get through than other days. Nothings wrong, I just feel a little… down.”

Rio listen intently as you speak. When you finish she nods slowly, “I think I know what you need.”

“You do?”

Rio nods with a little more certainty, “Let me cook for us. We’ll order some snacks and pop in a movie. We can keep cuddling too. And tomorrow, I think you should call out. We’ll spend the whole day together, I know all the best parks for walks. How does that sound?”

You let out a sigh of relief, “That sounds perfect. I love you.”

Rio places a gentle kiss on your lips, “I love you too.”

Rio reluctantly begins to stand, but you pull her back down, “Just hold me a bit longer?”

She lays her back flat on the couch and pulls you on top of her, stealing another peck.

“Always.”

[kaiser1ns]

#. GIVE ME WHAT I WANT

featuring 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. he allowed himself to feel something he rarely did, peace and love because with you he got everything he wants.

happy birthday to my lover boy kaiser !! and happy christmas everyone !!

More awake inside of his dreams, the loneliness suits him better as he remains the only star in this cruel world. He doesn’t know what he wants but it’s not this, these sugar-coated words don't mean anything when he says them with his lips, tongue rolling with venom when he sees the faces of despair, experiencing the depth of a person’s soul when they have been put in their place. The moment people give up and are left hopeless, desperate for salvation, sacrificing their talent for more tedious lives — they are weak, more or less dead.

Impossible. He hates and loathes upon hearing that word coming out of someone's mouth, which makes him want to prove himself even more. Nothing is impossible. He was the weak person who gave up at any given chance, curling up into a ball to disappear and become invisible, embracing what is dearest to him in all the vast space, a planet that shines brighter than any star, emitting its own light basking in the gravity of football.

I don't know what I want but I know it's not this… A blue rose on his neck traced down with chain-like intertwined thorns that made their way to the crown on his left hand. To remind himself, to never again fall into that weak mindset, a dark and deep rabbit hole that won’t lead you to Wonderland but straight to execution, and it's ‘Off with your head!’. A symbol that shows the impossible, he is the symbol itself, not the tattoo.

Was that really you next to me? It’s cold even under the blanket, it's cold because it's winter … But it’s warm when you kiss him, it’s warm when you love him. Sometimes it makes him sad when he receives a gift because he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react. It’s his birthday and he doesn’t like it. Christmas lights, a decorated apartment, food on the table, and a woman full of love. Giving him what he wants, then again who is he supposed to please?

“Don't you like it, my love? I-I can always return it if you don't…” Kaiser tried to play it off, masking his emotions behind his usual arrogance. But with you, he was different—less rude, less cold. His eyes lingered on the gift he had just unwrapped: golden rings. Promise rings, you had said with a soft smile, assuring him that nothing could ever tear you apart. Yet, your expression betrayed you—your face was full of sadness and regret. It hurt him more than he cared to admit, more than anything else ever could.

He watched as you looked down, fidgeting with your hands, retreating into yourself. You had given him so much more than he deserved. You gave him what he needed the most: a dream to hold on to.

Then, you felt it—his colder, larger hands settling gently atop yours. For someone usually so brash, the touch was rather gentle and tender. He turned your hand palm up, brushing his thumb over your knuckles before sliding the ring onto your ring finger. An arrogant young man with a superiority complex, Kaiser had always been a fortress of pride and self-importance. But beneath it all, he was just a boy yearning to be loved. “I never said anything like that, Engel,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "I’m just… not good at this stuff, okay? Birthdays and gifts, they’re not my thing. Never have been."

He tilted his head, studying your face. His usual smirk returned, but it was softer now, almost boyish. Kaiser knows you are doing this with pure intentions, he knows he has ben truly blessed not on this day, but the day he met you. And even if he hides it, you can see the little boy's eyes waiting to hear those three words.

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips met his, the warmth of your touch seemed to catch him off guard, and he instinctively stepped back. You both paused, glancing up—mistletoe. A sweet kiss for the birthday boy. A loving kiss for the gift you’d received from the universe. His lips were softer than you expected, and he tasted faintly of your lipstick, a reminder of just how sweet your kisses were. He loves you too. You are everything he could ask for: pretty, smart, loving, and caring. You are his.

As he kissed you back, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. The motion brought him off balance as he hit the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him. You landed on top of him, both breathless, laughter spilling into the space between your lips.

“Time to unwrap your other present~” you teased as you caressed his face, and he felt the golden ring pressing to his cheek.

On days like this, angels are said to come alive. But you were born one—his angel, his most precious treasure. For someone who believed the world to be cruel, who found pleasure in proving everyone else wrong, you were the exception to all his rules. You made him want to be better, not for the world, but for you. Who am I supposed to please? He asked, more to himself than to you, repeating the question that haunted him. His answer was clear now. It wasn’t about the world, the people who doubted him, or even his old self. It was you. It had always been you.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[thef1diary]

Been thinking about dirtbag! Danny around the holidays. If y'all went to see your family at say a party or something, would he be the perfect little saint? Or would he be his normal self? And when you two "accidentally" get caught under the mistletoe, would he hold back, or would he ravage you right there in front of everyone?

I'm having so many thoughts

-🐍

— why would you choose dirtbag!danny as a plus one to your family’s Christmas party? Well, you thought he was the best, safest option compared to a random date you didn’t know well, he’s the closest thing to a boyfriend without the label after all. 18+ content below

Daniel was supposed to be your safest option, the perfect fake boyfriend to bring home for the holidays. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but he was charming when he wanted to be—a people-pleaser with a quick wit and a dazzling smile. Your family wouldn’t question him, and you figured he’d play along without a hitch.

But you’d made one fatal miscalculation: Daniel was a menace, a dirtbag to his core.

As far as your family knew, he was perfect—polite, helpful, even borderline sweet as he laughed at your dad’s bad jokes, helped your mom carry in trays of cookies, and even complimented your aunt’s questionable fruitcake.

But the moment he was out of their line of sight, his true colours shone through.

“You look so sweet when you pretend to behave,” he murmured, leaning in under the guise of whispering something festive. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Makes me wanna bend you over the dining table and see how fast I can ruin that innocent little act.”

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a warning glare, but his grin only widened. His hand found your waist, fingers grazing just low enough to make your heart race, and he gave a small squeeze before stepping away, leaving you to stew in the heat he’d ignited.

Later, when no one was looking, he cornered you in the kitchen. His hands caged you in against the counter as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, just below your ear.

“Bet you’re wearing something cute under this dress,” he muttered, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “Maybe I’ll find out later. Slip my hand up your thigh while everyone’s busy singing carols. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Danny,” you hissed, pushing at his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, his grin infuriatingly cocky. “You’re the one who dragged me into this little charade. Might as well make it fun, yeah?”

He stole a quick squeeze of your ass before stepping back, leaving you flustered and furious as he returned to the living room like nothing had happened.

It wasn’t long before someone spotted the mistletoe hanging above the archway, and of course, Daniel wasted no time dragging you beneath it. “Well, well,” he drawled, his grin wicked as the room erupted into cheers and teasing whistles. “Looks like we’ve got no choice, love.”

Danny,” you hissed, your face already flushing as your cousins and parents egged you on, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Just a quick one, okay?”

He smirked, tilting his head, the devil gleaming in his eyes. “Quick? Oh, sweetheart, you wound me.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, utterly unrestrained. He kissed you like the room wasn’t full of your family, like no one else existed. His hands slid down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him, and he groaned into your mouth, deep and shameless.

Someone gasped. Someone else laughed nervously. But Daniel didn’t care. He kissed you like he wanted to leave a mark, like he needed everyone to know exactly who you belonged to.

When he finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your head spinning, and his smug smirk was back in full force. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, quieter, just for you: “Later, I’m gonna have you bent over your childhood bed, biting that pillow to keep quiet. Bet you’ll be thinking twice about calling me a safe option.”

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[kashedelic]

A HAT OF HEARTH - trafalgar d. law x f!reader

SUMMARY: Sometimes if you look closer (to a certain hat), you’ll find that Law loves in ways you didn’t expect.

NOTES: law x reader, second pov, established relationship, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, some possessiveness if you squint, law being lovey dovey, i just need law fluff tbh.

wc: 900

a/n: this is the first fic im uploading and I can’t say that i’m disappointed. currently working on some more fics and i’m hoping to get those out soon, but I cant exactly say when because i NEED those ones to be a little bit more detailed than a silly little drabble like this. and yes, those include the reqs! anyways, I need a law in my life frl.

Be sure to like, reblog, or even follow! Your support means everything to me and helps more people to find this story! Thank you for reading!

The hat was an emblem that Trafalgar D. Law, the Surgeon of Death, was capable of loving. Sure, the man was never too forward with how he showed love, but who said love had to be overt? Could it not manifest in quieter forms? What was wrong with loving in silence? Was it such a sin to care, to praise, to cherish quietly before daring to be bold? “We’re headed into a colder climate, wear this.” The clipped, brusque command might make anyone else think he was chastising a petulant child or begrudgingly tending to a nuisance. Yet, with the way his eyes flickered over your face for a moment longer than necessary, and the subtle brush of his fingers against the side of your head, the truth was far from that assumption.

Law was a doctor, after all - one fully capable of nursing you back to good health, but just the mere thought of seeing you feverish, voice weak and body frail, made his chest tighten with unease.

Even if your falling ill meant more one-on-one time together, he’d never risk it. He would rather see you well than selfishly enjoy your dependance on him. However, in the scenario that sickness did strike, Law would be readily beside you, caring for you every step of the way.

Law cared.

“Take care of it for me, will ya?” He hastily flopped the hat on your head, slightly askew, its brim tilted awkwardly. Your fingers instinctively reached up to adjust it, bewilderment etched into your features. Law, who rarely ever parted with his signature hat, had entrusted it to you. There was a small pause, a moment of lingerment, before he adjusted his grip on Kikoku and dashed back into the fray.

You watched as the blade caught and reflected light, clashing against a formidable enemy. The hat sat heavy on your head, a reminder of its significance. You didn’t know too much about the hat’s origin, but you know one thing: Law didn’t part with it lightly. 

The thought of joining the battle crossed your mind - you were perfectly capable to - but something about the weight of the hat felt grounding, as though it was urging you to stay. Something in your gut told you that it wasn’t just a token of trust; it was a silent request to hold down the Polar Tang, to handle any threats to the ship. In that moment, you weren’t merely entrusted with just the hat, but you were entrusted with Law’s entire livelihood. That alone made it more symbolic. It was a quiet testament to how Law trusts.

“Need to cover yourself more,” he muttered, tugging the brim down until it shaded your face. It was definitely larger on your head than on his and if his expression hadn’t been so grumpy, you would have joked about his supposedly “mega-sized head.” The hat swallowed you whole, but he would rather it that way. In fact, if it were really up to him, it would come with a veil to shield you from every prying eye. 

Law didn’t care - he wanted to protect. Law often thought the world didn’t deserve you. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he deserved you. In his eyes, your smile put the sun to shame, and all your curves and edges made him think that there’s another place that he wants - no, needs - to explore. Though again, he won’t admit that to you and he reluctantly agreed with himself to put those thoughts aside and instead focused on the desire to shield you.

He knew you were pretty, too pretty for his liking - at least when it came to the crooked world around him. The thought of anyone else noticing, of anyone else having thoughts about you, grated on his nerves. He hated the way men stared when you dressed up, hated the way his chest tightened and his breath caught when you twirled in new clothes, showing them off to Bepo. “They've got beady little bird-brain eyes,” he’d grumble under his breath, his hand tightening around Kikoku’s hilt whenever anyone started a second too long. Still, even as he kept his guard up, the hat stayed on your head. A silent declaration, a mark of who you belonged to. 

Law protected.

“Didn’t know I got us a clown on the Tang,” he chuckled, placing the hat on your head once again - this time even more lopsided and deliberately so. He turned away, and leaned his back against the ship’s railing, one leg crossed over the other. Taut muscles flexed as his elbows lazily rested against the bar, his chest tattoos peaking through the wifebeater he donned. Law lets you humor him as he humors you back by sloppily placing the hat on your face. You scowled at his teasing, but Law snickered at your ruffled appearance, finding you endereaning despite the exaggerated frown on your lips. 

Law humored.

The hat rests carefully in your hands, the fluffy material caressed between your digits. You hadn’t meant to look into the hat so much, but now, as he silently slipped the hat onto your lap  before heading off to shower instead of placing it on a shelf like usual, you couldn’t help but reminisce on all the fond memories associated with the hat.

You noted that this hat would not only bring heat to your head, but to your heart too, because Law loved.

Please don’t repost, translate, or redistribute my work without permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. All rights to One Piece and its characters belong to Eiichiro Oda and respective copyright holders. kashedelic 2024 ©

[darlingsfandom]

It’s all “Acting”

anon: I was wondering if you could write a request for cnc with Cillian, where he and reader are doing a hot scene for peaky blinders in a different scenario (like the one with lizzie in the canal), but the scene gets too steamy irl?

TW: CNC, age gap and people watching

It started with just a small kiss behind the scenes one night, it never meant to end up like this. You stood face to face with Cillian, lipstick smeared with your hands on his shoulders. Cillian had his hands on your waist as the two of you stood making eye contact.

“This isn’t actually happening…” you whispered before a small chuckle left his lips.

“But it is darlin! It’s been six months since we started working together and you, you are perfect.” He looked at you like a lovesick puppy. It was a secret that the two of you had started dating only after three months of working together , but when you spend all your time with someone on and off set it wasn’t hard to imagine.

“I know I know, but it’s just crazy! I mean you’re old enough to be…”

“I know I’m old enough to be yer father .” Cillian playfully rolled his eyes while fixing your lipstick because you two were about to walk onto set as normal and shoot a scene that would be sensual. You shook your head before he helped you fix your nightgown and snuck in a little kiss on your shoulder making you giggle.

The two of you walked onto set, Cillian let you walk on first , wait a minute or two and then come in himself that way no one would know none the wiser. You were laid up in the sheets with an old book in your hand pretending to read when he leaned against the door frame with his forehead against his arm as he watched you. The thing was that the scene hadn’t even started shooting and he wanted nothing more than to ravish you right then and there. The glow of the lighting, the perfume you had on and how soft you looked was driving him mad.

“And … action!” The director yelled out making you shiver because you knew what was coming.

Cillian straightened up, walked forward and stopped at the edge of the bed with a raised eyebrow. “That was quite a stunt you tried to pull during dinner darling.” He stepped towards you , grabbed the book from your hands and set it down. You tilted your head with a bit of a sour expression.

“You think that was a stunt? Oh my love you are mistaken. I promise…” your finger tips trailed up his bare chest, “that what you called a stunt will have that investor back here by tomorrow morning.” His lips curved into a smirk before a laugh left his throat .

“Oh you better hope so …”

“Or what? I might not be an intimidating man but a Shelby woman and that is even more dangerous!” Your lips brushed against his before he cupped your jaw.

To those shooting the scene the two of you were just doing your job but what was really happening was between the two of you.

His hands grabbed your hips while pushing you back onto the sheets. The two of you locked lips, kissing lovingly , carefully nipping at each others lips while he grabbed the blanket to cover the lower halves of your bodies. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had actually got into the scene so he knew what he was doing.

“Relax.” He whispered into your ear as his mouth moved down the side of your jaw, across your throat and inbetween your cleavage. Soft whimpers left your lips to which he nipped at your skin to remind you that you’re not alone. Cillian kept his face between your breasts inhaling your perfume as his hands worked their magic below the blanket.

His fingers trailed slowly up your thighs, breath hitched in your lungs as you felt his fingers tease the lining of your nightgown before lifting it up enough to look at the fact you did not put anything under neath. He furrowed his eyebrow a little but still kept a straight face that way no one would know. Cillian swiped his fingers through your wetness that had been dripping slowly down your thighs since he had kissed you. You cheered your cheek while he slid two fingers into you easily since he knew you could take it.

He watched your face closely as it twisted while he twisted his fingers inside of you. Cillian didn’t take it easy either, he worked his fingers faster inside of you making you buck your hips so the rough palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. Your toes curled into the sheets while he pressed down your pelvis. Cillian adjusted his boxers so he could easily pull out his cock and pumped it slowly before he pulled out his fingers, licked them clean and lined up the head of his cock to your swollen folds.

“Fu…” His lips attached to yours before you could finish that thought. He always stretched you out at first when he fucked you but not this time! It hurt more than normal, but that’s probably because you had to lay there and just take it. You couldn’t spread your legs, no wrapping them around his waist or throwing them over his shoulders, you had to be a lifeless doll in a sense. Your hands grabbed his arms as he pushed his cock all the way inside you. His own moans were swallowed up by your kisses.

Cillian gave you a moment before he started thrusting into you. Luckily this scene did call for it to be a little rough, however Cillian knew if he got rough it would be a dead give away of what was happening since you liked it rough. Your hand slid up his arms and around his neck, applying some pressure which made his eyes roll back into his head with a sly smile on his face. His thrusts did pick up a little and you whimpered just enough that made Cillian squeeze your hips until they bruised .

The two of you kept eye contact as he pushed his cock deep inside of you harder. His hands moved up your stomach , over your breasts and put them on either side of your head for balance as his mouth hung open. You wanted to scream his name but you couldn’t. He couldn’t hold back his thrusting anymore and actually started to fuck you hard making your eyes roll back as your lips parted. He wanted to let loose and give you everything he has in him but he can’t. Normally he wouldn’t care like that time in the bathroom while having diner with your friends or the time he fingered you during a script reading, or just like last week when you woke up from your nap with his cock deep in you as he was filling you up with his warm load but this was a tv set after all with cameras which reminded him that he needed to ask you about making a sex tape but that was later, this was now and right now he was enjoying how good his cock felt being squeezed by your warm wet cunt.

You could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were getting sloppy, how his eyes were closing and how he was trying to hide his face into your neck. Your nails scratched his back as your own orgasm was sneaking up on you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you bit your bottom lip and relaxed enough to cum on his cock. The feeling of you cumming had Cillian panting hard into the crook of your neck while his own orgasm washed over him. His hot load filled you to the brim, the liquid dripping down your legs as he hugged you tightly.

“And.. Scene! Very good, very realistic.” The director clapped as the two of you laid there with smirks on your faces.

“It’s called Acting.” Cillian chuckled before he looked at you and gave you a playful wink.

[jaggedamethyst]

that will be enough (matt murdock x reader)

pairing: matt murdock x reader

content: reader has holiday anxiety (me lol), angst, some fluff if you squint

notes: I have missed matt honestly...but this is something short while I work on some other things. if you also have holiday anxiety...sending love. as always, I dont believe in proofreading.

full masterlist linked here

For Matt, the holidays were yet another reminder of the love he had in his heart—most of all for his dad. The love he had for you was intense, yet differed from the emotion held for his late father. While having laid the great Jack to rest, the feeling of doing so always persistent in his mind, he could forget it was there. With you, the warmth consistently filled his body. It made sense, then, that he was exceptionally in tune to your every action. 

Matt dreaded his somber mood during this time of year. He quickly noticed, too, your feigned enjoyment. Whether it be a mindless repetitive tapping, or a grimace at the sight of even more holiday decor—the disdain was clear. 

You’d forced yourself to accept invitations, RSVP, and show up to events this year. With each one, you were reminded of how little you actually had. Not financially, per say, but the lack of family. It was easy to say that that intimacy could be found anywhere, but people sucked. It was officially true that with your low tolerance for bullshit, you had girl bossed your way into having no friends, no family to see, and nobody to love—besides Matt. The thought made you pull away from him. The thought of placing all of this onto Matt alone—to be the only important thing in your life—was a lot. So when you found yourself at another winter soiree, Matt attached at your hip, it was easy for him to notice you weren’t okay. 

He tried to talk to you a few times, you hadn’t responded. Not purposely ignoring him, he noticed, but regressing into that state you would sometimes when you were overstimulated. There was so much happening, you couldn’t process everything. The music was meant to be the obligatory party soundtrack. You let out a huff at the ambience seemingly blaring in your ears. Your head was pounding. There were too many people. Too much talking. Not enough quiet. 

You felt a hand on your back. You turned to see Matt there, as always. You tried to hide the immediate response your body had to him, but you both knew that he was aware. 

“You okay?” His voice the only thing making sense was common for you. He’d say the same about you. When you didn’t respond, he continued, “How are you feeling?” He rubbed a few circles into your lower back, before resting his hand on your waist. 

You nodded, a hesitance there, “I’m o-okay.” You turned your head away, embarrassed by your inability to say two words without choking up. 

Without a word, Matt grasped your hand and pulled you from the table you’d be standing at. You followed him, always willing to do so, you’d go wherever he went. Shut up. You quieted your own thoughts. How pathetic it was to be so incapable and reliant on a man. Your lip quivered. Matt turned to you, again, sensing it all. He moved to grab your coats—sliding on yours, then his. 

“Come on.” 

Your feet were moving on their own. You let the feeling of his arm pulling yours lead you into the elevator. You sniffled, still not much on your mind other than the immense failure you were. 

“Hey,” Matt turned to you as the doors closed. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” 

You felt the tears building, the pressure burning your eyes. “It won’t.” 

He was in front of you now, the twinge of salt in your tears hitting the air and his lips. Matt turned swiftly, hitting the stop button. You stumbled at the jolt and grasped for the wall for support. 

“Matt! What are you doing?”

“What are you feeling?”

“Nothing, I’m good.”

He tilted his head as he did, “Lie.” 

“I hate you,” 

“Another lie.” 

You turned to face the elevator wall. You sucked your teeth at your reflection. He was always so in tune, whether good or bad you still were not sure. It was times like this, where you let as if you were crawling in your skin, that the thought of explaining that phenomenon made you feel ill. 

He interrupted the thought, “It’s okay.” Don’t get yourself worked up. 

A split second later you spoke frantically, “I don’t think I can live without you.” The words blended together, the embarrassment increasing with every letter that left your mouth. 

He smiled a bit, nodding, “Thats good to hear…seeing as I don’t really plan on going anywhere.” 

The sound of you inhaling and exhaling slow filled the elevator cart. You looked at him, then. “What I mean…meant…is that…I am overwhelmed right now.” 

An arched brow and a nod encouraged you to continue. 

“I have nobody,” He opened his mouth to interrupt. You quieted him with your hand up, “…except you. Which isn’t…ideal.” There was sympathy, but silence still. He allowed you the space, here, to say everything. “Whenever we’re out…when I’m out…I feel so lonely. It’s like this time of year just heightens that feeling I have that everything should be perfect. But nothing is. Nothing can be.” You paused, “But I want it to.” 

“I miss my dad.” Matt stated plainly. “And I don’t really talk to my mom.” It was your turn to nod this time. “I have a few people I care about, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. Especially during Christmas.” He went to lean on the opposite elevator wall as you were standing. “I imagined myself having years way beyond what I had with my dad. In church on Christmas, or maybe watching movies with him…I didn’t get much of that.” He stabilized himself, removing his red frames with one hand. “I don’t want you to feel burdened by the expectation of what a cookie-cutter life should be. Sometimes there’s other plans for us…and honestly…if we only have each other, forever, that will be enough for me.” 

You nodded aggressively, trying to make sense of that. You tried to drill the words into your mind so as to never be in this state again. 

“I hate Christmas.” 

Matt moved to hit the button, “Me too, babe.”

There wasn’t much said on the way to his apartment, nor when you’d both crawled into bed. After a while, Matt grabbed your palm and kissed the back of your hand. He spoke into your now intertwined fingers. “I can’t live without you either, by the way.” 

“Good to know that we’re both extremely helpless individuals.”

He chuckled, “We truly belong together”

You hummed. The intense feeling hadn’t completely left you, but rather been satiated by the knowledge that despite its existence—Matt would always be there, too.

[httpsdana]

Can you do promo 14 and 21 with kenan on how he never thought about actually dating until he met her and how she changed his opinion on dating

When It’s You~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

14-“I never planned to fall in love, but here we are.”

21-“I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say.”

Kenan Yildiz had always been a bit of a skeptic when it came to love. His focus had always been on his career, his goals, and his dreams.

Relationships, with all their messy emotions and potential distractions, didn’t fit into the plan. He was the type to scoff when his teammates talked about love, rolling his eyes at their lovesick grins and romantic anecdotes.

But then he met her.

It wasn’t a thunderbolt moment or an immediate spark of realization. It was more like the quiet breaking of dawn—slow, steady, and impossible to ignore.

He noticed the way she laughed, genuine and hearty, as if she weren’t afraid to fill the room with joy. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions. How she always managed to bring out the best in him, even on his worst days.

Kenan found himself seeking out her company, making excuses to talk to her, and eventually, he couldn’t ignore the growing warmth in his chest every time she was around.

One evening, the two were sat in his living room , the movie playing on the TV flickered in the background, its plot long forgotten. Kenan sat beside her on the couch, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor as if lost in thought.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, nudging his leg lightly with her foot.

He looked at her, startled, as if he hadn’t realized she was paying attention. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just thinking,” he said simply.

She tilted her head, studying him. “Thinking about what?”

Kenan hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee. “You probably don’t remember, but the first time I ever talked to you, I told you I hated pineapple on pizza.”

She laughed, the memory instantly coming back. “Of course, I remember. You ranted about it for ten minutes. I thought, ‘Wow, this guy really has strong opinions about fruit.’”

His lips quirked up into a small grin. “It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“Well, I thought it was cute,” she said with a shrug.

He looked at her, his expression softening. “I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say. I didn’t think anyone listened that much.”

“Of course, I listen,” she replied, reaching over to rest her hand on his. “Everything you say matters to me.”

Kenan turned his hand over, threading his fingers through hers. He stared at their intertwined hands for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against her skin.

“you know...I never planned to fall in love,” he admitted, his voice low. “But here we are.”

The sincerity in his tone made her chest tighten. “Kenan…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “I thought love was something other people did. Something that would just get in the way of my plans. I didn’t think it was for me.” He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “But then you came along, and now I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. “Well, I’m glad I changed your mind.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You didn’t just change my mind. You changed everything.”

And in that moment, with his hand in hers and his words still lingering in the air, she knew that she had done the same for him.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[leighsartworks216]

The Calm After The Storm

Sylus x gn!Reader

I know it isn't Christmas anymore but the vibes persist in my notes app

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, Christmas, alcohol, drinking, kissing, cuddling, some family drama

Word Count: 834

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You scrub a hand down your face, as if it could wipe away all the stress and overwhelm from the last few days. Booking flights, packing bags, wrapping gifts, dealing with your parents' nagging and your extended family's... whole deal. You can't wait to go back home.

Sylus sighs as he settles down beside you. His arm immediately wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side where you belong.

He's been your rock through all of this. When you start to lose your head to the holiday season, he's there to reel you back in. It was a real catch 22, though. He could be there to block your family's questions and interrogations, but that only brought more questions to the surface.

How did you two meet? How long have you been together? When is he going to propose? Will we finally have some grandkids? Why isn't he with his family? How big is he? (Asked by your great grandmother, utterly shamelessly.) And on, and on, and on.

For all the headache it brought you, he didn't seem too phased by the excitement. With all the grace of a businessman, he deflects, redirects, and obfuscates just enough to satisfy their questions without giving them too much of a rope to tug on.

Now that you've finally got a moment to yourself - all your relatives gone, your parents off to bed - all you want to do is sit on the couch and come down from it all.

Sylus is quiet. You know it's for your sake, to give you all the (metaphorical) space you need. All the power is in your hands to start a conversation. All he does is hold you close, rub circles into your arm, and offer you the wine glass in his other hand.

You grin wryly as you accept it. It's fruity, sweet - definitely not to his tastes. "Is this the one my nana got you?"

"Mhm," he hums. "It's a nice gesture."

You chuckle. "She had no idea what to get you. I mentioned that you like to drink, but she's... Well, she tends to gift other people things she likes."

You settle deeper against him, cradling the glass to yourself as you lean your head against his shoulder. He presses a tender kiss to your head.

"Is it always that chaotic?"

"No." You tilt your head up to look at him. "It's usually a lot worse."

He chuckles lowly. "I'm glad they were on their best behavior for me, then." He brushes his nose against yours, drawing out the peace of the moment just a while longer. He's had to severely cut back on how affectionate he gets to be with you to avoid encouraging even more marriage and children questions; he really wants to savor this for as long as possible.

The lights of the Christmas tree in the living room dance across the planes of his face. Every now and then, the red catches on his iris. Or the gold does, and gives him a draconic look. He's beautiful. Ethereal. Your cousin took one look at him, at his arm lazily wrapped around your waist, and gaped in awe at you. The only reason she couldn't get a chance to get Sylus alone and try to steal him is because he was too insistent on staying by your side through it all, whispering teasing remarks in your ear and making sure you weren't about to have a panic attack.

It felt really good being able to put her in her place at dinner, when she purposefully vied for the seat beside Sylus's. He'd ignored her the whole time, save for a politely dismissive phrase or two. After she stole your boyfriend from you in 9th grade pulling the same stunts that she tried tonight, you had no sympathy for the teary-eyed pout she pulled on her way out the door.

You lean up that last little bit. He ducks his head down to ease the strain on your neck, meeting you in a honeyed kiss. Sweet, warm and unhurried. You taste like the wine, hints of the bitter alcoholic sting softened by the fruity sweetness clinging to your lips. This may be his new favorite wine, if only for the way it tastes on you.

You pull away slowly. He leaves a few chaste kisses on your lips, chasing after the lingering sweetness, before finally humming his satisfaction. As soon as you both get home, he's going to make up for all the lost time. For now, he tucks your head under his chin, holds you in front of the tree, and basks in his first Christmas spent with you.

"Merry Christmas, Sy."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." He can't wait to celebrate with you again next year, crazy family and all.

You take a slow sip of the wine, basking in the silence for all of one minute. “Sy?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re taking the jet back home. I can’t be sat sandwiched between two screaming babies again.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[gingerteafairy]

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 (𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Rumors start flying at the Heffley's chaotic family dinner, and what was once just a joke turned into the realest thing you’ve ever had.

tags: fluff, no smut but it's suggestive, f!reader, christmas party. words: 1.4k

It was Christmas, and Rodrick Heffley kept banging on his drums like they were the only thing keeping him sane during that chaotic family dinner. Greg was off messing around with Rowley, and Rodrick couldn’t do a thing about it in the name of "holiday spirit." To make things worse, Heather Hills had rejected him two weeks before, and she was now a guest at the dinner. Meanwhile, his mom couldn’t stop dancing to those ridiculous Christmas songs, while his dad stood there, practically dying of embarrassment.

Sneaking through the door, you spotted Rodrick giving his best aggressive solo, admiring how talented—and pissed—he could be, just like the goofy kid he was. You knew him from music class, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with the way he played. You definitely had a thing for drummers—it was obvious with all the school crushes and band posters you had. But Rodrick was different. He wasn’t your average rockstar; he was a cute, emo boy trying to look dark and mysterious, and that made you smile.

"Escaping the party?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe, the clinking of plates filling the air.

Rodrick paused, lifting his hand to silence the drums. "What’d you say?" he asked, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow, his ears still ringing from the loud music.

"Escaping the party?" You repeated, grinning as you stepped closer and plopped down on the small sofa in the garage.

"Yeah, that’s torture," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he slid off his stool to sit next to you. The overwhelming scent of his cologne, too strong for someone his age, hit you like a wave. You tried not to wrinkle your nose.

"I agree. My parents won’t stop saying embarrassing stuff about me, and my little sister’s acting all sweet like she’s not the literal spawn of Satan," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Don’t you just hate that?" He chuckled, crossing his left leg and settling more comfortably on the couch. "Younger siblings…"

"It’s like their job," you laughed, adjusting your oversized sweater to make yourself more comfortable.

"How'd you escape the sweater curse?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Rodrick grinned proudly. "I told my mom that if I wore a sweater, I’d torture the guests with a live band performance and body odor." He leaned back, clearly pleased with himself.

"Ugh, I wish I could pull that off. I’m stuck wearing this ridiculous thing," you sighed, leaning your elbows on your knees and propping your chin in your hands.

To be honest, Rodrick thought you looked kinda cute in that sweater two sizes too big, but there was no way he was gonna admit that out loud. Pfft, a rockstar liking a sweater?

"I think you look cute," he whispered, breaking every rockstar rule just to get a smile out of you.

"Thanks," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush a little.

"Hey, how ‘bout we go to my room and listen to something that’s not this Santa nonsense?" Rodrick suggested, standing up abruptly. "I mean… if you want, of course. Not like it’s mandatory or anything. I don’t wanna force you to do anything…"

"I’m in." You grinned, standing up and stretching. "But, uh, how do we get past all those people?"

Rodrick rolled his eyes dramatically, a grin playing on his lips. "Pfft. Relax. I’ve got the perfect plan."

"And what’s this brilliant plan, Heffley?" You crossed your arms and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. We run." He grabbed your hand and tugged you along, sprinting from the garage, through the living room, and up the main staircase, weaving through all the older relatives and kids in the room.

"Rodrick!" Susan shouted from across the room, causing you both to freeze mid-step, caught like deer in headlights.

"Great plan, huh?" you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him, turning to see Mrs. Heffley glaring at you both from the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you think you're…" She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to your joined hands, and a sly smile spread across her face.

"Oh, no. Mom, it’s not what you think," Rodrick stammered, quickly letting go of your hand to take a step down.

"Uh-huh." She held up a hand to stop him, her eyes flicking back and forth between you two, pausing to focus on how red your face had become. "I know exactly what my little darlings are up to. Why didn’t you tell me you brought your girlfriend for Christmas, Rodrick? This makes me so happy."

"Girlfriend?" You both said at the same time, exchanging a look.

"Everyone, come here! Greg, Manny, sweetie, I’ve got great news!" Susan called, skipping happily toward the living room.

"Let’s go," Rodrick said, practically dragging you down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you both. He wedged a chair under the doorknob to make sure no one would burst in.

"Wow, I almost died back there," you laughed, placing a hand over your chest and walking backward until you collapsed onto his bed, your feet swinging off the side.

Rodrick ruffled his hair in a slightly awkward manner before lying down next to you, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed. "Damn, sorry about that... my mom..."

"It’s fine," you reassured him, glancing up at the ceiling. "She and my mom are probably still talking about it."

"Yeah. You being my girlfriend," he teased, rolling his eyes.

"Girlfriend. Can you imagine? What a joke," you laughed, staring at him, your gaze lingering on his dark eyeliner. His eyes were so beautiful, so expressive.

"It’s a joke. Girlfriend…" he repeated quietly, his gaze softening as he took in your face. You were so beautiful, so real, so...

Before he knew it, his lips were on yours in a desperate kiss, his hand finding its way to your waist, which you immediately responded to, your fingers tangled in his hair.

It felt perfectly right. His lips were soft, and you tasted just right. The way your bodies fit together, the way your tongues danced together, and how his hands knew exactly where to touch you. It was awkward, sure, but that was what made Rodrick special—everything he did was so real.

The kiss broke, and you both stared at each other, neither of you needing to say a word to know that you should have done this much sooner. But then, your laughter broke the silence, a burst of awkward giggles that filled the room.

"I’m such an idiot," Rodrick laughed, his body shaking with the movement, and you couldn’t help but laugh along. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket by the fire.

"You are. What even was that?" you said, still laughing, the sound echoing between you two.

"I don’t know. But I liked it," he admitted, stopping his laughter for a second to look into your eyes, his expression soft.

"I liked it too," you smiled, leaning in for another hug, the warmth of his embrace pulling you closer. "But I think we just made a rumor come true."

"Damn, it’s true," he muttered, biting his lip to stifle the next burst of laughter, which escaped when you smiled again. "How about we keep this rumor going for a bit, until we’re actually boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Rodrick Heffley wants to be my boyfriend?" You teased, and he couldn’t resist pinching your cheeks.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice a little unsure, but hoping for the best in return.

"I do too. Maybe. Want to be your girlfriend," you said, giving him a sly smile.

"Cool."

"But I think we should leave the room before we start another kind of rumor," you giggled, gesturing toward the door. "You know... that kind."

"I wouldn’t mind if the rumor was true," he teased, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe before focusing on your mouth, and then your eyes.

"I wouldn’t mind either," you whispered, your eyes falling on his lips. And that was enough for Rodrick to do what he did best—go in for another kiss. That night, you both made sure to live up to all the Christmas rumors that might swirl around the table, especially when you came back wearing that worn-out sweater, messy hairstyle and Rodrick had eyeliner that clearly belonged to someone with a lot more experience. Yeah, for the first time, you were grateful rumors existed.

@bernardsbendystraws divider

@ikkyfics this one is for you honey

[the-writerwoman]

Happy holidays 🎅🏻🎄🎁☃️ I bring you the gift of angst!

Another 4am brainrot as my baby kept me up most of the night.

In this one, Logan and Wade fight against a mutant, not knowing that they can go through time and send people through time. Logan ends up getting sent back in time. To 2016, but he doesn’t know it until he tries to regroup at Sister Margaret’s and Weasel doesn’t know who he is. He waits for Wade anyway, but instead of the red leather clad weirdo he was used to, in walked the unblemished, full head of haired mercenary. Before he met Vanessa, before he got his cancer diagnosis. Logan was in trouble. Especially when Wade finds out that Logan is the very wolverine he’d admired as a kid, and he declares them soulmates and tries to chase after him and if Logan’s not careful, then the whole of Wade’s future could be changed.

This scene is after Wade finds out Logan is from the future, and what the consequences could be if the future was changed.

Hope you enjoy!

——————————

The tension in the room was suffocating as Logan stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. Wade’s chest felt tight as he waited for Logan to say something, anything, that could make sense of the situation.

“I don’t know,” Logan said finally, his voice raw. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. The timeline is delicate, Wade. If you decide not to go through with the program, or if you don’t fall in love with Vanessa when you’re supposed to, everything changes. Everything goes wrong.”

Wade frowned, stepping closer, his voice low. “What does that mean, Logan? Why does it all matter so much? I don’t even know a Vanessa.”

Logan hesitated, the pain in his eyes evident as he looked at Wade. “Because if you don’t become who you’re meant to be, you won’t be the man who saves me. You won’t pull me out of my universe when it matters most. And if that doesn’t happen…”

Logan’s voice cracked, and he looked away, his hands curling into fists. “Then I stay in my world.”

Wade tilted his head, his chest aching at the sight of Logan’s visible anguish. “What’s so bad about staying in your world?”

Logan let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the question. “If I stay in my world… I spend the rest of my life hated. Hunted. Spat on. I’ve worked on it. I know I’m not to blame, but in my world, the X-Men were attacked while I wasn’t there. I came back to find them all… gone.”

Wade’s heart sank, his breath catching as Logan’s voice broke.

“Jean, Scott… even the kids,” Logan continued, his voice trembling. “All of them. Dead. And I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Wade’s stomach twisted painfully as Logan paused, swallowing hard.

“I lost it,” Logan admitted, his voice thick with guilt. “The rage took over, and I… I killed people. People who didn’t deserve it. I let it consume me.” His shoulders shook slightly, and when he looked back at Wade, there were tears glistening in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter how much time passes. I’ll always be the man who let them die.”

Wade couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled Logan into a hug. Logan froze for a moment, his breath catching, before his arms wrapped tightly around Wade. He clung to him as if Wade were the only thing holding him together, his breaths shaky against Wade’s neck.

“It’s not your fault,” Wade murmured, his voice soft but firm. “None of it is your fault, Logan.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but the way his grip tightened spoke volumes. Wade held him closer, his own chest aching at the thought of this version of Logan, so broken, so weighed down by guilt and grief.

After a while, Wade gently pulled back, his hands resting on Logan’s shoulders. He tilted his head, pressing a soft kiss to Logan’s temple, a quiet, comforting gesture. Logan closed his eyes at the contact, his breathing still uneven.

Wade’s lips hovered for a moment before he shifted, catching Logan’s lips in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a question rather than a demand. Logan didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond either, as if he were frozen in place.

When Wade pressed again, Logan responded tentatively, then with more certainty. His hands found Wade’s waist, grounding himself in the moment. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right.

But then Logan pulled back with a sharp breath, his eyes wide. “We can’t,” he said, his voice strained.

Wade blinked, his heart pounding. “Why not?”

Logan shook his head, though his hands didn’t leave Wade’s waist. “Because… if we do this, if I let this happen, it could ruin everything. The timeline, the future, it’s too risky.”

Wade’s jaw tightened, and he reached up to cup Logan’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Logan, listen to me. I’ll do it. Everything I’m supposed to. The program, the torture, hell, I’ll even fall in love with this Vanessa when the time comes, if that’s what it takes. But don’t push me away. Not now. Not when I have you right here.”

Logan looked at him, his resolve visibly crumbling. “Wade…”

“Please,” Wade whispered, his voice trembling. “If this is all we get, if this is all we’re allowed, then let us have it. Just this once.”

Logan closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. Wade didn’t give him time to argue. He leaned in again, capturing Logan’s lips in another kiss, more desperate this time. Logan groaned softly, his hands gripping Wade’s waist as he finally gave in.

[stopaskinf]

Sexy/Romantic things BTS men do:

Genre: FLUFF‼️‼️‼️These bitches are WHIPPED, GN! Reader for the most part

CW: None really

A/N: I really just be on here huh. I had this idea awhile back , and I’ve finally gotten around to posting it. Hope yall enjoy ✌🏾

———————————————————————————

Yoongi & V: Stares at you intently

There lies a man absolutely entranced by you. He stares so hard that it could burn your skin. He’s examined you so closely that he could tell you every detail of yourself. How your brows furrow and your lips pout whenever you can’t find the word for something. Your lips curve into a smirk whenever you say your “s” . Your upper canines peak out mid sentence whenever you rant like a mad dog; meanwhile your hands make grand, sweeping gestures that make everything you say seem like a grand adventure. When you inevitably catch them in their unsubtle act, they continue staring. After all, they would never wanna look at anything else.

Jhope, Jin(?): Buys you things

Mr. Moneybags. He has money just for you to spend. A man who will want for nothing, but will serve the world to you with a gold leaf. Luxury restaurants with names neither of you can pronounce. Shoes painted crimson on the sole with ruby rings to match. Nothing is out of your reach with him.

Namjoon, Tae, Jungkook: holds your hand and rubs his thumb on your knuckles

Comfort exists solely within this man. Soft hands with only slight calluses that hold yours in a featherlight grip. His thumb rubs over your knuckles in small circles and figure eights. He’s hardly aware that he’s doing it. He’s ingrained it within himself to be your haven.

Namjoon, Jimin: Text you things that remind him of you

Frogs. Lilies. Marigolds. Daisies. Bright red mushrooms with dots. Poems addressed to a long-ago lover. TikToks with love confessions playing in the background. Slow ballads soothe you with their lavender voice and adoring lyrics. Events for things you’re interested in. A photo of you asleep on his chest he took of you last night. A stranger’s poodle called Pepper. Knitted cardigans covered with embroidered stars and moons. The moon standing next to the sun during a pink sunset. A small Polaroid of you smiling that he found lying in the back of his studio. These things fill his camera roll until he inevitably sends them to you. He needs you to know that he always thinks of you.

Namjoon, Yoongi: Send you paragraphs and poems

“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

“Speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life”

Sentences strung together by loose words and ends in the late nights when he has you on his mind. A painful yearning that existed before you that you dissipated with your being; though it comes back stronger when you leave. Love poems written by him or long dead writers to help him release his emotions. His devotion towards you needs to be known by you in simple language and consciousness. If not, he’ll ruin himself.

Namjoon, Jungkook, Tae: Always has his body facing you

A physical sign of devotion. “My attention is always on you” Head slightly tilted to better catch a glimpse at you, shoulders and back slightly slouched in a relaxed position, his feet facing towards you; his eyes half lidded as his pupils bounce from your eyes, lips, and nose. He tries his best to keep his hands steady, lest he grabs you. He could be in a room full of people and there would be no mistake as to who he’s looking at.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Tae: Asks if he can kiss you

Consent king.

“Can I kiss you?”

Simple. Straightforward. Nerve wrecking. A small question that holds so much vulnerability and weight. Displaying his need to communicate his scorching love through his flesh, but wishing death on himself before he makes you uncomfortable.

“Only if you want to.”

A sign that he’ll put any desire back if you don’t reciprocate it. You’re the only one controlling his world; he won’t forsake you.

Jin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Tae: Answers your texts right away

He’s never been a bad texter, but there is no wait when it comes to you. The thought of making you wait for anything has never entered his mind. He knows how doubt and anxiety can cripple the mind. He does his best to ensure you don’t have to face that with him. Texts sent a minute ago will get a reply in seconds. He’ll never keep you waiting.

Tae, Jungkook: lays his head on top of yours

His warm embrace. Long arms wrapped around you tightly as if he lets go for a moment you’ll vanish like a sweet dream. Your sweet scent mixed in with his cologne, cigarette smoke, and natural musk. Your face is in the crook of his neck; your nose and long lashes tickle his nape. He feels your hot breath warm his skin, but hates how his face feels detached. His eyes can’t bear to look at the wall ahead of him when he has you. He lays his head down into your hair, smelling the crown of your hair; he closes his eyes and snuggles further into your locs. If he could, he’d crawl into your skin and never leave its warm, suffocating embrace; however, laying his head on yours will do for now.

Yoongi, Namjoon, jhope: gives you stuff

Gift-giving couldn’t be considered his first love language; although, he can’t help but attend to you. Old books covered with dog tags, highlighted passages, and small handwritten notes. A beaded bracelet he made on live. A whale-shaped cutting board that you can’t bring yourself to use out of fear of damaging it. All things he gives to show how much he thinks of you.

[peacockrulz]

I'm sorry to anybody who expected me to post smth normal but. /j

these doodles are entirely based off the text of the fic Cyn's Night Out. which is a part from a series of fics that I haven't actually read but!! this particular part of it I have so jdskfjsdkf

I dub these two,,, StillKicking (get it? because,,football?? and Cyn never fucking dies????) anway here slightly more sketchy doodles under the cut:

Your Honor. I need More Of This.

[ef-1]

girlhood

[wildsaltair]

currently so obsessed with Russell Crowe’s ability to emote so subtly yet powerfully. I just marvel at how naturally good he is at it

[todayisafridaynight]

and when i think of daigo telling mine he loves him i scream and cry and need to kill to feel normal