#I mean like I guess it makes sense after going through so much shit?

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 12

Summery: Something seems to be going on with Jason. Instead of pushing him, Y/n lets him be and talks to friends.

Warning: swearing

I Tag list: @teapartydreams @adorabluesposts

ao3 Series master list

A/n: Happy holidays! Have a filler, it’s a little angsty but it ends in a happy. I know I've been just posting just this pic. I'm having a bit of a hard time ending the other fics but hope to get them done in January. That is my goal.

—————

March 22

Y/N (7:37 am)

How’d it going today?

Y/n (8:58am)

I burnt my breakfast

I don’t even know how that happened

I looked away for a minute and the next thing I know

The smoke detector went off and there’s smoke in the kitchen

D:

I’m so sad

Now I don’t have anything to eat and I’m late for school

Y/n (10:00am)

I am not sure why I thought getting my engineering degree was a good idea

Nothing my teacher is saying is making sense

I want to go home

Y/N (1:28pm)

So, classes are done but now I have to work

With the amount of sleep I didn’t get

Work is the last thing I want to do

Y/n (3:43pm)

I made another fire again today

Downside, they docked my pay a little

Upside, I get to go home early today

So there’s that

Y/n (4:39 pm)

I hope you’re doing okay

Y/n (5:04 pm)

Hey Steph?

Is Jason okay?

Stephanie

What do you mean?

Y/n

I don’t know

I haven’t heard from him today

I just want to know if he’s okay

Stephanie

He hasn’t talked to you at all today?!.

Y/n

No, and we didn’t get into a fight

Did something happen?

Stephanie

Yeah, but I don’t think I’m the one who should tell you

Y/n

Yeah I understand

There are some things he hasn’t told me

I know that much

Stephanie

I’m sorry

Y/n

No worries

But could you tell me if he’s doing okay whenever you see him?

Stephanie

Of course

Y/n (5:14 pm)

Do you think you’ll see Jason today?

Roy

Um, I’m on my way to him now

How’d you know?

Y/n

Wild guess

I know he’s dealing with something but I don’t know what

Could you tell him I’m here for him if he ever needs me?

Roy

Why can’t you tell him yourself?

Y/n

He hasn’t been talking to me today

And I didn’t want to push if he doesn’t want to talk

The last time we went no contact, we both pushed each other away

Roy

That asshole

Y/n

Just be nice when you see him

Roy

I was

But now I should give him shit for what he’s putting you through

Y/n

No don’t

This is nothing compared to whatever Jason is going through

Roy

If I didn’t know better

You already know what’s he going through

Y/n

But I don’t

I just know that it’s bad if he’s not talking to anyone right now

Roy

You really care about him huh?

Y/n

I’m not afraid to admit it

Roy

Good

Jason needs someone like you on his side

I’m glad he has you

You threw your phone on the couch after reading Roy’s message, and bit your thumbnail in thought. Roy’s words had a deeper meaning now then before you knew the whole truth. And wondered if they would hold the same weight after they realized you went behind Jason’s back to find the truth.

It wasn’t something you needed to worry about now. There was something more pressing and you weren’t sure what to do but wait.

Sighing, you stood from the couch and made your way to the kitchen. After eating supper, you retrieved your laptop from your room and set it on the table.

Staring at it for a good minute or two, you made up your mind and turned it out. Once logged in, you went through the motions and found yourself in the Batcomputer again.

There was nothing for you to do but watch and wait. And that’s what you did for the rest of the night, you watched and listened as they talked out plans and watched as Oracle fought against the Calculator.

Scared of being discovered, you were debating whether or not you should leave. But you couldn’t, not until you knew Jason was okay.

But the decision was made for you when Oracle forced both you and Calculator when she rebooted her system. You gave her credit and wondered why she didn’t do that earlier.

With nothing to do, you slumped against your chair and hoped everything turned out in their favour.

“Jason you have a minute?” Roy called as the Outlaws made their way out of the building with Riddler in tow. Jason nodded, and the two of them branched off from their friends.

”What’s up?” Jason asked when they were far enough away from prying ears.

“Have you talked to Y/n lately?” Roy asked, and Jason flinched at the mention of you. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Are they doing okay?” Jason asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Roy shrugged and said he didn’t know. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Exactly that, I don’t know,” he answered, “I just know that they’re really worried about you and wanted you to know that they’re there if you need them.”

“I’ll always need them,” Jason said without a second thought.

“That’s probably something you need to tell them, not me,” Roy said and looked towards their friends. “Look, everything seems to be okay here now. And I doubt Batman needs our help right now.”

“Probably because he’s being a stubborn asshole,” Jason muttered and Roy ignored it with a shake of his head.

“Why don’t you go see Y/N?” Roy suggested, “it would ease their mind a bit.” Jason shook his head at the thought.

“Not yet,” he said, “not until we deal with Joker. The last thing I need or want is for Joker to find Y/N.”

“Fair enough. Then at least answer their texts,” he said, “that’s something you can do without Joker knowing.”

“Suppose you’re right,” Jason said, sighing in defeat.

“I’m always right,” Roy said, gaining a laugh out of his friend.

“Not always,” he said and walked off towards his bike. He pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his messages, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Jason (12:35 am)

You set two things on fire today

One might think you’re a pyromaniac

Y/n (1:09 am)

:O

I am no such thing

i set ONE thing on fire and burnt my eggs

There is a difference

Jason

No I don’t think so

It’s the same thing

Y/n

Well then I guess your seeing a pyromaniac

Jason

I’ve dated worst things

Y/n

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

What could possibly be worse than a pyromaniac?

Jason

A serial killer

Y/n

YOU DATED A SERIAL KILLER?

Jason

Okay, not technically

Y/n

What does that mean?!

Jason

Means she was apart of the league of assassins

And given that their job description is basically their title

It's the same thing

Y/n

I can feel you shrugging like its not a big deal

But it is

And I worry for you and your taste of women

Jason

There’s nothing wrong with my taste in women

Y/n

Says the guy who dated a women who kills for a living

And me, who’s and I’m quoting here

a ‘pyromaniac’

Jason

Nothing wrong with a little arson

Y/n

My goodness

Judging by that statement alone, I think you’re the pyromaniac

Jason

Well, I mean I have done a little arson myself

So I’m not one to judge

Y/n

……

Jason

Wow, six dots

I must really made an impression

Y/n

You’re lucky your pretty

Jason

I knew it

You’re only into me because of my looks

Y/n

-_-

I’m going to bed

Jason

No, no no wait

I went a little to far, I’m sorry

Y/n

You’re forgiven

Can I call you? Or are you too busy for that?

Jason

Not busy persay, just I’m with my friends and I’m not yet ready for you to meet them

Y/n

Afraid I’ll run away?

Jason

Something like that

Sometimes they can be a little too much

And protective

Other then that, I wouldn’t mind hearing your beautiful voice

Y/n

Oof, maybe I should go to bed

I’m red like a tomato

Jason

Sounds like a sight to see

Y/n

I’m sure it is

…

Are you okay?

And don’t just saying something cheesy like

Jason

I’m better now that I’m talking to you

Y/n

You son of a bitch

I told you not to say something like that

Smooth fucker

Jason

But I am telling the truth

Something came up last night that triggered something

I had to leave town for the day, but my friends showed up and we talked.

Roy said something about you being worried

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you

I just, I needed to deal with it before I could see you or talk to you

Y/n

No I get

Probably didn’t help with all my messages

But I’m glad you’re feeling better

Still dealing with it?

Jason

Yeah

But once it’s done, I’ll come and see you

Promise

Y/n

Take your time with it, I don’t mind the wait

I’m just glad you to hear from you

Jason

I’m so glad I met you

Y/n

Me too

[ananxiousgenz]

just finished part 24 and ngl I'm kinda disgusted with arthur right now!!! john is an inhuman fracture of an eldritch god of madness and he is behaving more human than arthur is rn!! what the fuck dude!!

[shidoukanae]

Chapter 75 and 76 have been so funny for male lead characters suddenly spouting red flag lines.

Paris's is expected because the narrative has always been honest about how he's got a screw loose but seeing the 2nd lead syndrome guy pining hopelessly after Lyla seemingly imply he was trying to make her unhappy with his presence is ???? huh????

like im aware my very loose translations are probably scuffed as fuck and there's room for further interpretation but man is this manga a ride lmao. It never feels like a chapter is wasted and that there's always something more to be learned about this world, its story, and its characters. And it means every chapter is never a letdown because there's always SOMETHING happening and it makes me !!! to see

[holytrickster]

sitting there like has my art gotten better over time or do I just add way too much unnecessary detail now

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! Can i request for reader x batboys where they’re dating but reader doesn’t know they’re vigilantes. One day they ( as vigilantes) flirt with her then reader tells them that she’s happily taken. Thank you!

I’m only doing dick and Jason cuz my brain doesn’t know what to put for Tim or Damian. And this is probably a boat load of words that make no fucking sense when reading it, so I apologise.

Jason

‘You look lost sweetheart.’ You heard from above you only to see the silhouette of the vigilante red hood.

‘I can assure you I’m not.’ You replied straightforward, wanting nothing more to get home and cuddle up to Jason in your shared bed, after all it had been a long day and you weren’t in the mood to be chatted up by anyone, you were loyal to Jason no matter what.

‘I’m only trying to help.’ Red Hood tells you as he dropped down from the roof and landed safely in front of you before standing up to his full height.

‘I understand that but when you added sweetheart I’m naturally going to assume you’re attempting to hit on me.’ You said with your arms crossed over your chest. ‘I’m more than happily taken by the sweetheart man I’ve ever known.’ You added as a boast because it was more than the truth, and you could spend the entire week talking about how much better Jason was then any other man in existence.

Jason could feel his heart melt when you said that and was half tempted to rip his helmet off to kiss you senselessly, but he decided to be cheeky and milk this for all it’s worth if it meant hearing you speak about him in high praise. ‘Oh yeah? Does he treat you right?’ He asked as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, reading himself to hear whatever you had to say.

‘He treats me as though I made the stars in the sky and looks at me like I did too,’ you began smiling as you remembered the fondness in Jason’s eyes whenever you did something mundane, ‘I could just be standing there in a plain shirt and a pair of his boxers, looking like absolute shit but he would still tell me I looked stunning.’ You added as you felt the smile stretch further across your lips.

God you loved that teddy bear of a man so much you didn’t know where to put it most of the time.

You noticed that Red Hood didn’t say anything but that was because beneath the helmet Jason was fighting through urge to hold you in arms and never let you go, smother your face in kisses because of how fucking cute you were being without trying, however he knew that he better get back home before you did if he ever wants to do any of that and so he clears his throat and says. ‘It’s good that he does treat you like that, you deserve it more than you know, I bet he’d be devastated if something were to happen to you, go to war even.’

You furrowed your brows as Red Hoods words before shrugging. ‘I mean…yeah I guess, he’d do anything to get me back. I hear him whispering it when he thinks I’m asleep.’ You add as you felt a sense of familiarity from the vigilante but decided to brush it off when you checked the time on your phone and winced. ‘I should get going and I’m sure you-‘ you went to look over to where you saw the vigilante last, only to be greeted with the sight of nothing. ‘-do too…’ you trailed off before shrugging your shoulders and continuing on your way home.

Unaware of the fact that Jason was still watching you from the rooftops above, knowing damn well that he would indeed go to war for you, his beloved little chipmunk.

Dick

‘What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this? It’s dangerous you know.’ Nightwing practically purred.

‘I’ve walked through here multiple times before and I can tell you it’s safer than most in Gotham.’ You told him, crossing your arms, unamused.

Nightwing raised his hands in defence. ‘Just trying to look out for a cutie like you is all, no need to bite my head off.’ Dick had a feeling that something might happen on your walk home tonight and decided to keep constant tabs on you the entire night as Nightwing. He could tell you were tired and just outright done with everything but he’d rather you be safe on your journey home than not, regardless of how safe your route home was.

‘I’m pretty sure there’s other people you could be saving instead of flirting with me. I’m taken for your information, and happily so by the most prettiest and albeit goofiest man alive.’ You told him with a smile as your mind drifted to imagining Dick sitting in your shared bed with Hayley in his sleepwear, snoring loudly despite trying to stay up for your return.

‘Pretty? How so?’ Nightwing asked as he eagerly leant in forward to hear you. Dick just wanted an excuse to hear you gush about him without knowing that he was right in front of you.

You sighed at the aspect of having to spend even more time with a vigilante that seemingly didn’t take the hint. ‘He’s got a smile that could light up an entire city for future generations, a laugh so pretty and addicting that you’d be more then willing to make yourself look like an idiot just to hear it again, and he’s got a beautiful set of eyes that you could get lost in no matter what because they’re just so…enriched in colour.’ You finished, the image of Dick’s gorgeous eyes embedded into your mind that left you feeling seen and loved.

Dick couldn’t help but smile at your words, not knowing what to expect when he asked you about how pretty he was, now that he had he could feel a burst of warmth within his chest that now encased his entire body. You were too sweet and kind for your own good and Dick just wanted to keep you safe from everything that Gotham represented, whether it was out of his innate selfishness to keep you for himself, to keep a bright light of his own in a twin as dark and depressing as Gotham he wasn’t sure but all he knew was that he wanted to keep you in his life as long as he possibly could.

‘Sounds like you love him very much.’ He says after a brief period of silence.

‘I’m more than anything.’ You replied without hesitation. Your hand reaching into your coat pocket, thumb caressing the cute charm Dick had bought you to add onto your keys, it helped you calm down in certain situations because it meant that no matter how far apart you may seem you still had a piece of Dick close by. ‘Which is why I really want to get home, so I can see him and our darling dog Hayley.’ You add with a smile when the blue staffy came to mind.

Dick remember where Hayley was before he left to watch over you, fast asleep on your side of the bed, which meant that when you came home you’d have to cuddle up to him as it was proven difficult to wake Hayley up when she had made herself comfortable. However if this meant that Dick got the chance to hold you close to his chest, he’d gladly let Hayley sleep on your side of the bed more often, and he did on multiple occasions.

‘Then I best let you go, don’t wanna keep either of them waiting.’ Nightwing said and you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic at the thought of finally getting to go home to your little makeshift family. You didn’t know how much longer you were willing to stand there when you knew Hayley was waiting for you impatiently with a boat load of face licks with your name on it.

‘That’s probably for the best because both of them can tend to get a little whiny when I’m even a second late.’ You laughed to yourself as dick couldn’t help but internally pout at this, he didn’t get whiny when you were late did he? He pushed this thought aside and smiled as he watched you walk away, keeping his eyes on your for a couple seconds longer to make sure you were okay, before realising that he should better beat you home before you find him not there in bed and quickly rushed up to the rooftops and ran like his life depended on it.

He wanted to keep his secret safe for a little while longer before admitting everything to you just yet.

[jazzyoranges]

Introverted

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you’re not much of a talker. that said, your lack of words doesn’t get in the way of meeting your (girl)friend’s sister

Words: 1.4k

A/n: mostly told through the pov of Sam cause i was feeling extra freaky and wanted to do something super crazy and unseen before

Warnings: alcohol consumption, that literally might be it

Sam was trusting her gut. Her gut said you were good for Tara but her past experiences said you couldn’t be trusted. Luckily she listened to nobody but Tara when it came to you. After all, Sam did promise she’d let sister live her life without her constantly looming over her

So Sam trusted Tara instead. Of course, the older Carpenter sister was still weary of you when her sister wanted you to come over and hang out with the core four, as Chad liked to call them. The name was never officially adopted but nobody ever stopped the boy from calling them that

She’s heard of your name through stories her little sister has told her. Sam was already aware of how you didn’t like talking. You watched and listened, always aware of everything around you. Not to mention you’re scary as shit - Tara’s words not hers. Countless times have there been when a protective arm around Tara’s shoulder and a glare were enough for anyone to back off. Sam’s thought of getting a dog for its scary privileges but it seems her sister already had scary friend privileges

A knock on their door sends Tara running to open it with Sam not too far behind. You were early. Wanted to make a good first impression, Sam guessed

“Thank you for giving her a chance, Sam. this means a lot to me.” Tara gives her sister a quick hug before opening the door. Sam doesn’t expect you to bring a gift as well

You tower over Tara. Maybe it was because you were tall, maybe it’s because her sister was short as shit. There are two wine bottles of a brand Sam’s never even heard of in your hands and Tara gives you a hug while you reciprocate with one arm

“This is for you. Thank you for letting me into your home. Your hospitality is appreciated.” You give a small bow before handing her the bottle. It catches Sam off guard. She didn’t want to admit it but she was already impressed. Or her expectations bar was set at an all time low. Probably the latter

Tara led you to their living room before coming back to Sam

“That was good! She usually only says hello when she meets new people. I think she might’ve said more words to you than Mindy and Chad combined”

“Really not a talker then, huh?”

“Definitely not. Will you open the door for the other two?”

“Yeah I will. Go spend some time with her”

The twins arrive ten minutes late but in their defense they were getting pizza for the night. Mindy almost immediately whistles at the wine you brought and opens it up

Sam finds you and Tara, well, just Tara laughing about something. Her sister said you weren’t much of a talker - not even talking to the twins very much - yet it seemed you were in deep conversation with Tara. Sam’s sister senses were tingling and they were very rarely wrong

The night continues without much falter. Everyone drinks, board games and video games alike are played, and nothing seems to be different. Other than you of course. You were so quiet sometimes Sam forgot you were there in the first place. You had a way of disappearing but always coming back when Tara talked to you. Sam’s sister senses were really tingling

You’d whisper something in Tara’s ear and she’d smile like she’s holding in the biggest laugh ever. Hell, after a few hours (and probably the wine) Sam saw you giving her sister small smiles and tiny laughs of your own. She couldn’t lie, it was astonishingly cute how her usually chipper sister was so amazed by someone so opposite of her.

Even later into the night, your little conversations with Tara seem to stop. It was around the time the twins stopped forcing you to play games and they settled on a movie to watch. Sam watches her little sister as she tugs on your shirt and whispers something in your ear. You nod and before she knows it, you walk out to their balcony that looked over the busy streets

“Why’s she out there?” Sam asks Tara after you’ve left

“She needs to recharge her social battery. Give her some time, she’ll come back”

//-//

You haven’t come back inside their apartment for about an hour, Sam notices

Tara’s accidentally fallen asleep on the couch while Mindy and Chad seem to be binging the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe with a bowl of popcorn cradled in between them. Sam didn’t remember buying popcorn but then again she also believed the twins were somehow magical when it came to food. Popcorn was probably the least of her worries

So Sam took her chance to talk to you. Walking to the sliding door to their balcony, the older Carpenter makes sure to not make any sudden movements. You’re leaning against the metal railing so Sam decides to join you

“You feeling okay? You haven’t come in for a while.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Silence passes. Sam hopes it isn’t awkward for you

“(Y/n), I’ve got a question.” Sam doesn’t get a verbal answer but she does get your attention and a nod to keep going

“How’d you meet Tara?”

“Someone was looking at her weird at a party. I scared him off. He was known for not being a good person.”

“You’re observant, huh? That’s a good trait to have.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want her to make a mistake.”

“Thanks for scaring him off.”

“Anyone would’ve done it.”

A few beats of silence pass before Sam talks again. She didn’t expect you to start the conversation, which was alright with her. It gave her more control

“Can I ask you another question?” Another nod from you.

“Tara said you didn’t like talking much. Be honest, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No. You want to know more about me because you care about your sister.” You pause. “I’m also a little drunk.”

The older Carpenter lets herself laugh. Big sister like little sister, she guesses.

“I like your honesty.”

“There’s no point in wasting breath on a lie.”

“Well, I hope we’ll have more conversations in the future.” Sam gets up from where she’s leaning on the balcony, moving to the door

“Why’re you leaving? I assumed you wanted to ask me more things.”

“You’d be okay with that?”

“The conversations in our future will only be answered by me nodding my head or not. I’m still drinking, you may as well ask now.” Swirling around your wine, you take a long sip. For courage, you know?

“You’ve caught me off guard here. That was all I planned.”

“We can just talk.”

“About?”

“Anything. Maybe Tara. We have her in common.” Your eyes glance back to the younger Carpenter fast asleep on the couch while Chad and Mindy were laughing about god knows what. Sam follows your gaze

Looking at you as you stare at Tara, Sam recognizes that look. She’s seen it before but a little different. It’s how Sam looks at Tara. It was always adoration and protection with the older Carpenter, but for you there was something different. Somewhere in your blank eyes and your monotone voice, you loved Tara. Sam could see it almost clear as day.

“You’re right. We do have her in common, don’t we?”

//-//

“C’mon, it’s not responsible to drink and drive. And I thought you were the one always telling me to be safe”

“I’m not too drunk. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to stay” Sam buts into you and Tara’s conversation. “You can sleep with Tara or I could set up the couch for you?”

“I see. Only if you’re positive I can stay.” You look away before meeting Sam’s eyes. “I’d like to sleep in Tara’s room for tonight. We’ll… keep the door open.”

“No need.” Sam winks before going back to her own room for the night. Fuck that felt weird. She should go to sleep before she tried to be the cool sister again

//-//

“I hope I made a good first impression.”

“Are you kidding? That was great! You did great”

“Thank you. I want Sam to like me.”

“Where was this attitude with Mindy and Chad?”

“They’re knuckleheads. Your sister isn’t.”

Sam’s never been happier the walls of their apartment were like paper. Not much of a talker her ass.

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡

ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)

Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 

He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.

You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.

There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.

“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 

His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”

He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.

“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”

He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”

You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 

You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”

You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 

His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 

“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”

—————

He’s a menace.

Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.

He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 

Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.

“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”

If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.

His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.

“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”

He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.

“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 

“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.

Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”

You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.

Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”

[beanarie]

of course

in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat

(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)

~

Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"

Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."

"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."

"There's nothing else?"

"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."

Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.

He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.

He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.

Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"

"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"

"Was it Evan, for any of them?"

God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.

"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"

"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.

Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."

"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."

Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."

There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"

"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."

"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"

"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."

Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."

He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"

Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."

"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"

Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"

"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"

Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.

"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."

The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"

The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.

"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.

"Tommy?"

Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.

A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."

The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.

"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."

Half a millimeter.

One quarter.

Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.

"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."

Micrometer? Is that it?

Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.

"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."

Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.

[yovrnewromantic]

CULT OF DIONYSUS

billy loomis x reader x stu macher

Let’s get mischievous and polyamorous!

Or in which Stu Macher really wants to fuck Billy Loomis’ girlfriend, and he doesn’t feel the same

warnings: talk of smut but no real smut. billy and stu lowkey hate each other.

Dipshit: guess whos alone w your gf😊

               meeee 😩🍆💦

Billy’s phone pings in his back pocket. Frustratedly, he maneuvers the bagged groceries in his hand. Reaching to grab his phone, he expects a text from you, asking him to grab something you had forgotten to put on the list or a needy i love you text.

Instead, he frowns at the message on his homescreen. The IMS shadow covers one of his faces on the stack of black and white polaroids of you and him on his wallpaper. Quickly, he slides his phone open, typing furiously. 

What the fuck do you mean

Dipshit: 🤷🏼‍♂️

Stu.

Dipshit: srry gtg busy

“Shit,” Billy hisses, forcing a hand through his hair. It was no secret that Stu wanted to fuck you. Stu had practically begged him to just let him watch him fuck you— in person or on video—and he got on his knees attempting to somehow sway Billy to let him cuck you. 

Yeah, not going to happen.

The drive to your shared apartment feels agonizingly slow, an unrelenting doom gnawing in the back of Billy's mind. His knuckles turn white from their tight hold of the steering wheel.

Tires skirt as he swerves into the parking lot, heart racing much more than he would like to admit when he takes the keys out of the admission, front wheels diagonal on the yellow lines they're meant to be inside of.

His pulse is in his ears when he reaches the door, hands clumsy for the keys before he realizes the door isn't even locked. The acknowledgment sends a new sense of dread down his spine because ever since Woodsboro, you listened to him, and you always locked the doors.

With half the mind to grab the knife that he buried it in the potted plant in the hall to castrate Stu-- if he was even there and didn't just want Billy to kill him in his sleep.

The door creaks open deathly slow. Billy's boots are loud against the wooden floors as he steps inside, listening intently. His eyes are frantic, dancing to any open space for your presence. He doesn't see you.

"Y/N?" he calls, his voice steady despite his panic.

It's quiet.

What position does he have you in now? Tied up and gagged so you can't make a sound as Stu pounds into you. Billy swallows his own bile, hardly convinced to continue his search downstairs before heading to your bedroom. If he can get to the kitchen, he can grab a butcher knife and go Michael Myers on that motherfucker.

"Boo!"

He's genuinely startled when he turns the corner into the kitchen, taking a step back and staring at your beaming form with wide eyes. Standing in front of him, perfectly clothed may he add, you cackle, your entire body shaking as you struggle to point a finger at him, too consumed with pure unaltered joy. "I--" you wheeze. "I scared you. Finally, I actually did it."

Despite the small part of him that's a teensy bit pissed (any other day he's punching a wall) that you finally got the best of him, Billy smiles, hands seizing your waist to pull you into his chest so he can hold you after the stress of a lifetime. Your fingers slide across the back of his neck, and it feels like a glimpse of heaven: having you, his girl, and his girl only in his arms, grinning ear to ear.

His fingers find your chin and he makes you look into his eyes. "You got lucky, babe."

While you divulge into another laughing feet, burying your face in his neck, Billy closes his eyes in bliss, savoring the moment as he hugs you. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. You're okay. You're safe. You're his. Billy opens his eyes, sighing quietly. And Stu is nowhere in sight--

What the fuck.

Elbows propped onto the granite island; Stu is smirking like a dead man.

Arms locked around you, Billy stiffens. You pull back, and to your boyfriend's displeasure, out of his arms.

The kitchen is covered in white flour like winter had come early and a blizzard swept inside your windows. Stu's sweater is coated in the flour as well and now that he thinks of it, he can see the powder on your cheek.

"We tried to make cookies," you explain joyously, taking a half-glance between him and Stu. The latter saunters towards you and Billy smugly. "Stu's not very patient."

"Not at all," he purrs, throwing an arm over your shoulder at tugging you into him. You laugh, oblivious to the heated exchange that was happening just above your head.

Billy was going to kill Stu if he kept looking at you like that, his eyes flickering between Billy and peeping down your shirt. Goodbye to their sequel.

You break him from his reverie. "Billy, baby, where's the groceries?"

"Yeah, man. Where are they?" Stu tilts his head.

"In the car," he deadpans although he forgot about them in the first place, abandoning them accidentally. He grabs your wrist, tugging you away from Stu's grip, fuming. "Let's go get them."

THIS IS SO BAD. will def rewrite but seeing this in my drafts was giving me a headache

[borathae]

Tenderness

"Jimin has a hard time accepting that people don't want to hurt him. Something about you makes him ease up however and because of it, he asks you to cut his hair. You help him gladly of course."

Pairing: Jimin x f.Reader

Genre: slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: Jimin has trauma, he's scared but she makes him feel at ease, like please give this man a hug, innocent skinship, also they're just friends currently but idkkk there is so much tension between them, god i'm going insane actually

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: i'm actually so sad :( also listen. the hug was inspired by the way Jimin hugs :( i fucking want a Mimi Hug no JOKE </3

You are in the back garden, pruning the roses when someone suddenly steals the sunlight from you. It had once warmed your skin. The air feels chilly in the shadows all of a sudden.

You stop working, lifting your eyes at the person.

Jimin. Dressed in a long arm shirt and flowy pants, he walked through the grass barefoot and with his long hair tied back. The fabric of his shirt is striped in black and white. He is hiding his eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses. 

“You’re in my sun”, you tease.

“The sun doesn’t belong to you”, he throws backs sassily.

“I’d still prefer it if I had sunlight.”

“Too bad. I’m here now.”

You scoff in amusement, straightening up by rolling your shoulders. Such bickering is normal between you and him and amuses you these days.

“Do you wanna help me?” you offer him your second pair of pruning scissors, which he declines with a shake of his head.

“I have a, uh, favour to ask of you.”

You are working on the rose as you talk to him. He watches your movements with his eyes just slightly zoned out. 

“What’s up?” 

“Okay so, don’t laugh at me, but I talked to Tae and he said that you’re really good at cutting hair.”

“Yeah, I am. Nobody in this family wants to trust me, but I’m so good at cutting hair, like so good.”

He scoffs in amusement, reaching out to play with a rose leaf mindlessly.

“Sure you are.”

“Mh-hm, I am. Why did you ask him?”

“It’s just, I was wondering, uh, if maybe you want to do my hair.”

You stop working, studying him in surprise. You didn’t expect such a request.

“Your hair?” you make sure

Jimin nods his head. 

“Sure, uh, yeah I can. Just...why me?”

“Because you’re good, I already told you. And because Tae can’t cut hair. He thinks that he can, but he is shit at it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m not better than a professional though. Wouldn’t a stylist be better than me?”

“No, uhm.” He shies away, touching his own neck in soothing. “I’m not ready to, uhm. It’s hard for me to have strangers touch me. I, I don’t know them and, and I… uhm, they could hurt me. Uhm, it’s hard, I guess.”

“Oh”, you realise, “gosh Jimin, I’m sorry that you feel this way. I understand your feelings and I’ll gladly cut your hair.”

“Thank you”, he whispers, “see you later then. In my wing. Bye.” 

And with that, he flees, keeping his head low in embarrassment. You know that it wasn’t easy for him to share his feelings right now. He is a lot like Yoongi in that regard. Although Jimin is definitely that way because he was never truly allowed to feel. In more sense than one. Not only was he forced to keep his emotions off, he was also punished for any show of emotion which didn’t benefit his abusers. Sharing his feelings equalled being hurt to him in his past. So of course he fled the second he did it. You are still so proud of him for sharing his feelings. It means that he is healing. 

You finish garden work and take a quick shower. Knowing Jimin, he meant the evening hours when he said “later” so you don’t feel too stressed about going to him. 

After the shower, you have early dinner with Yoongi and Jungkook where you tell them that you will cut Jimin’s hair later and they show their expected surprise. When you tell them his reasons however, they react with empathy. They leave for a hunt after dinner, needing their own vampiric meals. You kiss each of them on their lips and wish them a good hunt, then you make your way upstairs to Jimin’s wing. 

He always keeps his doors locked because he feels safer this way, resulting in you having to ring his doorbell.

All of you have doorbells installed, which makes it a lot easier to visit each other. It was Taehyung’s idea and Yoongi had to be the one to install them. He did it gladly, gloating about how easy it was once it was done.

Jimin opens the door after the first ring. He is in different clothes and judging by the slight pearls of sweat on his forehead, he has been dancing. 

“Is it a good time?” you ask him.

“Yes. Come in.”

You step out of your house shoes once inside, while Jimin locks the door.

“Were you dancing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. How’s the studio?”

“Good. I love the natural light in it.”

“It’s already dark though.”

“For you, yes. Not for me. The moonlight is better than sunlight”, he says and hurries past you, “wait in the living room. I need to shower.”

“Alright, will do.”

Jimin’s living room was once a guest bedroom. The one you stayed in during your first night at the estate to be more exact. Yes, That Night where Taehyung had actually planned on eating you before you, unknowingly, managed to change his mind. 

The room once smelled of oakwood and myrrh, but smells like orange blossoms and clean wood these days. The walls changed out of their outdated grey coat into a cherry red dress. White ceilings and a decorated voute seem to practically glow next to the red and the ivory curtains give even more lightness to the otherwise warm-coloured room. The furniture is antique, but in perfect condition and throughout the room, Jimin placed vases with fresh flowers. He isn’t afraid to show his sensitive side these days. It reflects in how delicate the decorations in his wing feel.

You lie down on his sofa. Its red pillows swaddle you, inviting you to close your eyes for a while. It is so comfortable here. 

You probably would have dozed off for a post-dinner nap if Jimin hadn’t woken you again. His steps are quiet normally, but the floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked to you.

You sit up, “I’m awake.”

“Sure”, Jimin says sarcastically, eyeing the deep dent you left in his throw pillow, “just so you know, that pillow is a hundred years old and the stitching is delicate.”

“Huh? Hm?” You look at the pillow, smoothing it out. “Sorry. Nothing happened, I swear.”

“Don’t sweat it. Can we start? I wanna get it over with”, he says and leaves the room again.

With a grieving heart – a nap sounded so good – you leave the comfortable couch to follow him. 

You find him in his bathroom, sitting by the powder table in only his towel. The silver scar on his back contrasts against his black tattoos. He is tracing the entrance point of the scar on his chest mindlessly, but lifts his eyes when he senses your presence. His hand lowers, the self-disgust disappearing from his eyes. He shifts in embarrassment, clearing his throat.

Knowing him, he wants you to ignore his scar. He can’t stand it when people mention it. It is already awful enough that he has to look at it each time he undresses. 

“Anything in particular you wanna get?” you ask him as you close in on him.

“Just shave it there and give it texture on top”, Jimin says, lifting up his hair to show you his neck.

“So undercut with some length on top?”

“Yeah. It’s hot and I need air.”

“Right? It’s so hot lately. This summer is insane”, you agree, picking up the shaver, “should we go with the setting you have on?” 

“Yes. But make sure the fade is good.”

“I will, don’t worry. Is it okay for me to touch you?” 

Jimin glances at you. Surprise and gratefulness. He can’t keep up eye contact, lowering his eyes at the table as he nods his head. 

With his consent, you touch his hair. You run your fingers through it, eyeing his hands. They ball to fists at the first contact, tightening with such strength that his knuckles pale. He is scared.

“Did you practice choreography?” you ask him in hopes of distracting him.

“No I.” He clears his tightened throat. “I guess I just danced.”

“That’s nice too. I’ll shave it to up there. Is that alright?”

Jimin inspects the point you show him and nods his head. You pick up the shaver and turn it on. Jimin moves his head away when you put it close to him, flinches and moves back again.

“Sorry”, he whispers, glancing at you in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Did you change your mind?” 

“No.”

“Alright. Want a break?”

He shakes his head silently.

“Alright. Just tell me if you need it”, you say and put the shaver against his neck.

Jimin is tense during the first couple of shaves, but relaxes soon when his traumatized mind realizes that you genuinely don’t want him harm. He even opens his fists and begins playing with his bracelets mindlessly. Only around his ears, a certain stiffness returns to him and his eyes ghost over the shaver fearfully. 

So you give him a break, soothing him by tracing his ears softly. 

“Gotta clean you up”, you tell him even though both of you know that this was just an excuse to mask the gesture of comfort you give him. If you didn’t mask it, Jimin would get way too embarrassed however. 

He is tense at first. His eyes switch between your hands, your face and the shaver you put aside. 

You reach the spot right behind his ear where the harder point of his shell blends into the softness of his lobe. You rub it slowly. Jimin’s lids flutter, his head sways back just once before he fixes it again.

Another rub of the same spot and Jimin’s head rolls back again, lids closing halfway as goosebumps cover his skin. Yet another rub and he breathes so deeply that his chest lifts and sinks visibly, eyes closing for just a second before he forces them open again.

He straightens up, glancing at you in embarrassment. You act oblivious for his sake, giving his shoulders an innocent rub.

“There we go. Now you’re clean. I’ll continue.”

“Yeah. Okay”, he whispers, staring at you in the reflection of the mirror. He can’t truly make sense of the emotions in his chest and what they mean. He also can’t stop them and so he stares.

Jimin doesn’t flinch away anymore when the shaver touches him. You can finish the shaving without any more obstacles. He even stays calm when you shave him around his other ear. Only for a split second his neck tensed up, but relaxed within a breath because he felt safe more than he does troubled in your presence. 

You place the shaver on the table and use a fluffy brush to sweep away any stray hair. The sensation sends shivers down his spine. He tries to cover them up as best as possible.

“Do you like the fade?” 

“Yes. It’s, uhm, it’s what I wanted”, he speaks quietly, looking at himself with sparkling eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he is gazing, too mesmerised his new look has him. 

“Nice. That’s good to hear. I’ll just do the texturing and then you’re done.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

His words are honest, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Of course.” You pick up the scissors, showing them to him. “I’ll use these.”

You give him time to observe the potential danger. He nods his head in consent. You begin. He doesn’t tense because you gave him the opportunity to prepare. 

“Your hair is fun to work with. You’ve got so much of it.”

“Thanks. It’s hot during summer.”

“I can imagine. Should I take some length too?”

“Yes, please.”

You can finish the cut with no obstacles, moving on to the last step instantly. You clean him and then style him with a light mousse. He lets you with gratefulness in his eyes. Truly, he can’t stop looking at you. It is as if something about you has him captured. You don’t notice his eyes on you because you take your job as his hair stylist way too seriously and are blind to anything but his hair.

“There we go. Now you’re done. How do you like it?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes. For but a moment, your breath hitches. He never looked at you like this before. “Uh..”

Jimin clears his throat and shifts his eyes away. The air is charged between you and him, but neither tries to talk about it.

You take a step back. Jimin looks at himself for a while. His expression is stoic and if you didn’t know him better, you would think that he hates the haircut. In the end however, a small smile hushes over his lips and he nods his head.

“I like it.” 

You smile proudly.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

He shimmies on the chair awkwardly, touching his new undercut.

“You can, uhm, leave now if you want to.”

“How about we clean up and then show Tae your new style?” you suggest because you know he doesn’t actually want you to leave, but thinks that you already want to.

“Yes. Okay.” He turns away to hide the giddy smile. “Do you think we can get him to watch a movie with us?”

“I think that he’ll be the one to suggest it.”

Jimin laughs. You laugh with him.

“Yeah, that actually sounds like him”, he agrees. 

“I bet he wants to watch one of his boring French movies.”

“They’re not boring, you just have no taste.”

You laugh, “no I do. His movies are like five hours long. That’s way too long.” 

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Oh honey, I do. He knows and teases me for it.” 

You and Jimin share laughter. Your eyes meet. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.

His smile drops. 

You stop laughing, feeling tight in your chest for but a second, “what’s wrong?” 

Jimin stands up and turns to you so he can close the distance.

You instinctively take a step back, but Jimin still pulls you close.

He hugs you. 

“Oh?”

Jimin hugs as if he is overcome with adoration. Jimin hugs as if he needed the other for his survival. Jimin hugs as if he thanks the universe for the other’s presence. He doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it is spilling over with his honest adoration.

You didn’t expect it right now, but can’t deny that it melts you. He has one arm around your waist strongly and cradles the back of your head with his other hand, while his cheek rests on your shoulder with his face hidden in your neck. You can even see from the reflection in the mirror that he has his eyes closed. He hugs just like him. With his entire heart and soul. 

You hug him back with just as much tenderness, rubbing his back slowly. Goosebumps follow your touch. He melts into your embrace. 

“What’s that for?” you ask him quietly.

“Haircut.”

You chuckle, “do you like it that much?”

He nods his head and gives you a squeeze.

“Thank you”, he whispers. 

You know that he doesn’t only speak of the haircut. That he thanks you for giving him the space and time he needed to realise that the haircut won’t end in pain for him. You smile fondly, squeezing him back.

“Of course. You can always come to me for help.”

“I will.” He holds you so close and breathes your name. Nothing else follows. Just your name. Said with just as much heart and soul as his hug carries.

[celestie0]

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

[san8ny]

Honestly, GeekSquad! Ellie

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s really got nothing going on for her other than updating her LinkedIn picture here and there, alternating between her college ID photo and a the default flower.

GeekSquad! Ellie who spends her days sitting in uncomfortable swivel chairs, and having to tiredly explain over and over again to elderly women that the promotional sign outside does NOT mean ‘hand in your old phones and get free smart ones!’

‘No ma’am, we don’t take Nokias.’

‘But the sign said give one, get one free!’

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s eyes squint in confusion when she sees you enter from the slide doors, arms crossed as you curiously look around for any standby employees. She doesn’t really ever see hot girls at her location.

GeekSquad! Ellie who practically knocks over some USB stand in her pursuit of getting to you first, which is uncommon since she’s all the way in the back.

GeekSquad! Ellie who notices your pursed lips and teary eyes as you show her your broken laptop.

GeekSquad! Ellie who takes you over to the little stand-by bar, setting your device down, which, let’s be honest, was a lost cause from the start.

‘W-will you be able to fix it? I have my senior thesis on there!’ You practically choke up, the mere thought of months of hard work going down the drain making you tremble.

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s suppose to give you the generic capitalistic answering of, ‘Well, you can always make a membership with us and get 20% off a future purch—

“I’ll fix it.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s now being held in a warm embrace by you, your tears now soaking her blue polo workshirt. It’s bad enough you’re pretty, but a pretty crier?

“Thank you so much! God, you don’t even know how much trouble you’ve saved me!” You stumble over words, disoriented as you begin to let go of the lanky girl.

GeekSquad! Ellie who waves a hand in dismissal, scoffing as she leans on the counter, “That thing? Pfft, i’ve done harder things.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s lied, and has likely lied to also get this job—but that’s beyond things!

“I just,” You say breathlessly, looking around, “I went to the other branch? Downtown? They said it was over!” You whisper to her, all doe eyed, “you really are amazing.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who blankly stares down at you, she’s always had a thing for frazzled girls such as yourself; the ones who just say the very shit Ellie only watches in cheesy movies.

‘Right..guess you’re in-luck you came here?” She probes, typing your name and number into the system to get you all checked in for an appointment.

‘So lucky.’

GeekSquad! Ellie who after her shift, goes home and makes a bee-line for her room, slamming it shut and shedding her clothes, needing to fuck herself to you while the interaction is still fresh, and the night is still young.

‘S-she said she’s—mm, lucky! f-for me..’ She whimpers, pumping 2 fingers in her drenched pussy, and her other hand busying her perky tits. Her eyes are furrowed, and her teeth threaten to break the skin of her lips from the way she’s biting them; Her messy cunt squelches from the speed she’s going at, cum trailing down her thighs in a sluggish matter.

GeekSquad! Ellie who switches on over to her tummy, raising her ass up as she relentlessly slaps at her swollen pearl through her plethora of orgasms— she thinks you’d do it like this, giving yourself something to cry about. It makes sense to her. She wants to practice on herself to perfect it for you.

GeekSquad! Ellie who, once tired out, realizes how fucked up this just is. I mean, she’s so..perverse. So nasty.. so..so..

so GeekSquad! Ellie

[kekeke32]

TOUCHSTARVED trailer theme theory??

Hi guys, hi everyone. Hope we’re doing well!

SO the full version of the trailer theme is finally out on YouTube and holy shit??? It goes so HARD!!! Give it a listen here.

After rewatching it over and over again, I noticed something so I’ll map out which lyrics appear with which character for y’all to see:

Wish I could’ve added more ss but I’m on the mobile app 🥲 Anyways, I really don’t think the dev team added the characters photos randomly ‘cause check this out:

In Ais’s part, the lyrics are about a certain weakness (ik the lyrics “my weakness” refer to a person but I chose to ignore that jskdksk) and survival. This may be a reach BUT doesn’t this reminds you of Ais’s official character description? Specifically of this part: “Ais seems capable of curing you...but a sick sense of dread surrounds him. He's beginning to suspect that he may not be as in control of his powers as he thought. Can you save each other, or will he drag you down to the abyss with him?" This so-called “weakness” could be his very own powers and he’ll need the player to help him, to “survive”.

Now, about Vere’s part, I don’t have much to say tbh other than the fact that the lyrics “Cause everytime we touch” appear for the first time in his part and I guess you could say it’s related to his frequenting at the brothel? (iykwim 😏) Oh! And you could also see him being touched by a lot of different hands in the trailer. Besides that, his part ends with the lyrics “need you by my side” sung softly by the singer hmm…

Kuras’s part on the other hand, starts strongly (I suck balls at describing music so pls listen 4 urselves, you’ll know what I mean😭) and at 1:59 mins the lyrics are “Cause everytime we touch” then his face darkens a little and it stars an instrumental interlude. I don’t know what that really means but he’s sus

Mhin’s part is sung very softly as well and the lyrics “We’ve been through them all. You make me rise when I fall” are so sweet more so because I think in their route they’ll open up more to the player after going together through incomprehensible horrors and we’ll learn how to support each other <33

Finally, Leander’s part!! Now, LISTEN. His part is the reason why I even made this post in the first place lmao This mf is way too sus but first of all, the building synth progression at 2:58???? oh my god I got CHILLS. literal chills. *ahem* Moving on, his part, starts strongly the same as Kuras’s part did. Their parts are the only ones sung like that… Weird, huh? Anyway, after the lyrics “I can’t let you go. Want you in my life” at 3:49, the song gets SUPER intense and starts sounding very desperate ig?? (kudos to Dan! love his voice frfr) and Leander’s part ends with “Need you by my side”. Okayy y'all… Y'ALL. THIS IS CRAZY. In his part we have both the lyrics "I can't let you go. Want you in my life" AND "I want this to last. Need you by my side". AHHHH Leander you obsessed little bitch (affectionate)

In conclusion, there’s no fucking way the red spring team didn’t assign the certain parts of the lyrics very and I mean VERY purposefully to each LI. The parts suit them specifically well so I highly doubt it’s random but it could also just be me reading too much into this

Whatever!!! Good morning/Good night to this fandom only ^_^

[ifiguredyoudloveme]

Book Boy

timothée chalamet x female!reader

summary: ever since timothée saw you at the store, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. once he finally sees you again walking down the street, he can't help but ask for your number.

warnings/tags: 18+, nsfw, sub!timmy, dom!reader, bondage, p in v, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, cum makeout (?), dirty talk, use of the word mommy

words: 3,198

a/n: i haven't posted in so long but timmy's look as marty sparked some very ungodly thoughts and i just had to write something. (this is far longer than i intended it to be.)

Timothée wanders into his favourite book store one rainy afternoon, searching for something romantic, and well...sexual. He feels like he's being spied on as he skims through the romance section, looking behind his shoulder as if anyone knows, or cares, what he's searching for.

Upon walking in he was greeted by the store owner – an older, chubby man with a large, grey moustache – and asked whether he needs help finding anything, to which Timothée replied, “Just browsing, thank you,” in a tone far higher pitched than he was going for.

He pulls out a book from the shelf and flips it around, skimming through the blurb on the back. His eyes widen, and he quickly hides it in his jacket. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a girl speaks over his shoulder.

“I've read that one,” she says in a friendly, innocent tone. “Oh, shit. Didn't mean to scare you,” she giggles.

Timothée turns around to face her, the book still hidden in his jacket. “What one?” He asks stupidly.

She giggles again, pointing at his jacket. “The book hidden in your jacket..?” She crosses her arms. “You're not planning on stealing that, are you?”

“Oh, this?” He says, pulling the book out. “Of course not.”

“Good,” she smiles, and turns her attention back to the shelves.

Timothée stands next to her awkwardly for a moment, swaying back and forth on his feet.

“Is it good?” He asks, voice cracking. He fakes a cough into the back of his hand.

She turns back to face him, her eyes looking into his with a glint of something he can't quite place. “I guess it depends what you're into.”

Timothée gulps. “Okay. I'll– I'll get it,” he croaks, before turning and walking back towards the front of the store. He places the book in front of the kind man and he gives Timothée a knowing smile before placing the book into a brown bag. He quickly hands the man some cash and rushes out of the store.

That night, Timothée lays on his bed, stomach down, and reads the book. The first page alone is a sex scene, and he's already humping his mattress. He can't help but imagine the woman in the story is the woman he saw in the bookstore and the man is himself.

The man gripped her breast lightly, so as not to hurt her, and teased at her soft clit with the tip of his tongue.

He imagines her reading this and his hips speed up.

She arched her back from the bed, the warmth from his mouth too much to bear. But only when his finger slid inside of her did her breathing halt and her body convulse, the eruption of orgasm flowing through her and out of her as a moan.

He cums, shaking, his face buried in the pages, the scent of aged paper filling his senses. He wonders if this is the exact copy she borrowed.

Out of it, he throws the book at the wall. The book itself is unarousing, he realises. Far too formal. He'll return it tomorrow.

Later, after cleaning himself up, he walks outside on the balcony of his apartment and lights a cigarette. Leaning on the railing, he watches the bustling street below, still erupting with life despite midnight.

That's when he sees her – in the same outfit, only with a jacket this time, wandering on the other side of the street. He immediately opens his mouth to call out for her but realises he doesn't even know her name.

So, he bolts inside, grabs his own jacket, and rushes out the door, making his way down the windy stairs and finally, into the night. He looks around frantically before spotting her again, turning right at the end of the street. He runs.

Once he's in front of her, walking backwards, he can hardly catch his breath. She looks at him with that same adorable smile.

“Book boy,” she says, pointing at him.

“Yep,” he responds, adjusting his glasses. “I saw you from my apartment and I—”

“Did you read the book?” She interrupts, that same glint in her eyes again.

Timothée gulps. “Uh, yeah. A little.”

She teases her bottom lip with her tongue, then stops walking. They stand still for a moment, facing each other, before she takes a step forward. She's so close to him he can feel her soft breaths against his face.

“Were you thinking about me when you did?”

Timothée's jaw goes slack. He can only nod. She smiles, then steps back. She fiddles through her purse for a pen, the takes Timothée's hand in hers and scribbles her number onto his palm, and under it, her name.

Then, she walks off into the night.

Timothée reaches out, goes to call her name, but decides against it. He turns, smiles, and walks back to his apartment.

In the morning, after writing her number and name from his palm onto a sticky note then drifting off to sleep, he immediately calls her number.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, naked, chewing at his fingernails, he waits for her voice. The call connects after three rings and he almost drops his phone in nervousness.

“Hello?” she says politely.

“Uh, y/n? It’s me…” he’s about to say his name but realises she doesn’t know it, “...book boy.”

“Oh!” she exclaims. “You called.”

“Of course.” He stands and starts to pace around his room, a smile growing on his face. “I was, uh– I was wondering if you’d like to meet for coffee today. At noon.”

“That would be lovely,” she agrees. “I’ll come over to yours.”

“Oh, but I—”

“Shh,” she giggles. “I know where you live – don’t think I didn’t see you on your balcony.”

Timothée clears his throat. “Alright, that…that sounds good. I'm in number 106. However my apartment is quite small and in a mess—”

“So is mine,” she says.

“Okay, good,” he replies, cringing at his response. “So…noon?”

“I'll be there. Bye!”

The call ends and Timothée lets out a deep breath he didn't realise he was holding. He checks the clock on the wall. Eleven a.m., it reads. His heart jumps; he hadn't realised he'd woken up so late.

He rushes into the bathroom and runs the shower before grabbing his toothbrush and squeezing a generous amount of toothpaste onto it. He scrubs his teeth and hops into the shower, the warm water temporarily calming his nerves.

Leaning his head back, the water wets his hair and he scrubs a thick lather of shampoo into it. He smiles as he imagines his hands are hers, massaging his scalp, and he almost starts purring like a cat. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, embarrassed by himself, and takes his hands off his head in shame.

Once he's done, he dries his hair vigorously with a towel before sprinting into his closet and fetching his nicest suit. He pulls on his clothes and nearly trips while putting his pants on, then rushes into the bathroom to do something about his hair. It looks ridiculous, all spiked and wet, so he picks up a comb and combs it into a somewhat presentable style.

He places his hands on his hips and stares at himself in the mirror loathingly. The doorbell rings, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

Breathing deeply, he steps out of the bathroom and walks to the front door. He lifts his hand to the handle, takes a deep breath, and opens the door.

All his nerves go away the moment he sees her, and all he can think about is how beautiful she looks. Her hair is tucked behind her ears with white hair clips, and she wears a beautiful silk light blue dress paired with white gloves and white heels.

“Wow,” is all Timothée can say, and y/n grins widely.

He moves out of the way for her and she steps inside, her heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. She looks around the place as he closes the door.

“It's lovely,” she says. “I expected piles of trash and inches of dust but this…” she runs her hand along his red sofa, “...is gorgeous.”

Timothée scratches his cheek. “Well, thank you, I– it's home,” he smiles. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she says, sitting on the couch and crossing her legs. “I have three sugars with mine, if that’s alright. I have a sweet tooth.”

Timothée nods as he brews the espresso. “So do I,” he says flirtatiously. He has no idea where his sudden confidence has come from. Catching on, she blushes.

After he's made their coffee, he places them on the coffee table and sits beside her. Being so close to her zaps most of his confidence away, and he falls shy again.

She picks up the mug and takes a sip, moaning at the flavour. Timothée gulps. “This is great, thank you,” she smiles, before leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek. He nearly has a heart attack.

“Are you going to drink yours?”

“No, I don't– I don't like coffee.”

She gives him a funny look and laughs. “So why'd you make yourself one?”

“I'm not sure,” he replies honestly, shrugging his shoulders. She laughs harder, and he laughs along with her.

Once they stop laughing, she places her coffee down and leans back, facing her body towards him.

“I like your glasses,” she says.

Timothée feels insecure at this. He's only ever been made fun of for them.

“Really? You'd be the first,” he says self-deprecatingly.

“What do you mean?” she asks genuinely. She reaches out and places her hand on the side of his face, lightly swiping her thumb under the thin metal. “They're very attractive.”

He bites his lip and looks at his lap. “You think so?”

“I do,” she replies sweetly, leaning back again.

She observes him once again. He feels exposed, as if she knows all of his secrets, as if she can read his mind. If she could, she'd know how desperately he wants to reach over and kiss her, run his hand over her smooth thighs…

…his cock begins to harden.

“You're drooling,” she says.

He chokes on his own spit and coughs into his arm. “Pardon?”

Laughing, she leans her elbow utop the back of the couch and rests her head in the palm of her hand. “You're not very good at hiding it, you know. You wear what you're thinking in your eyes.”

“Do I?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“Mhm,” she hums with a nod, picking up her mug. She looks into his eyes as she takes a slow sip, then places it down again.

Picking up his own mug, he attempts to repeat her actions but gags the second the lukewarm dirtmilk – as he calls it – hits his tongue. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, placing the mug back down. She laughs again, her hand gripping his shoulder.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment while she finishes her drink. Timothée can't help but look at her – her gorgeous face, the way the silk of her dress hugs her body, her smooth legs – and undress her with his eyes. He thinks back to the book that now lays on the floor of his bedroom and how, just last night, he was breathing into it in orgasm, thinking of her.

She places her mug down, empty, and as if on queue, says: “Where’s that book?”

Timothée shakes his head, stumbling out of his explicit thoughts. “Hm?”

“The book you bought yesterday. Where is it?”

“Oh, I– shall I get it?”

She nods, so he stands, striding to his room. He retrieves the book from the ground and inspects the mark that throwing it had left on the wall, before returning to the living room.

He hands the book to her quickly, shyly, and sits back down. He watches her as she pulls off her gloves and flips to a very specific page, twenty-three, and hands the book back to him.

Taking it from her curiously, his eyes meet the page and his heart immediately beats at a faster pace. He looks at her with wide eyes. She only smiles, innocent.

“Read it,” she whispers.

So he does.

“‘The woman—” he croaks. “‘The woman sunk down onto his cock. The tight– The tight soft walls of her cunt encased him wholly and he tried, through the ropes tight around his wrists, to reach out and touch. Muffled moans through the gag in his mouth signified something he had tried so desperately to shove away; that he was hers, but she was not his. Lust given into to the shame of God. A forbidden love. The—’”

Timothée's breathing quickens as she crawls over and straddles him, her soft lips against the side of his neck. He holds the book in his right hand and wraps his other around her waist, not taking his eyes off the page.

“‘The bondage rubbed against his skin painfully and he hoped that it left permanent marking, a reminder of this night, forever. Fuck God, he thought. What a horrible thing to think. He should be slapped. Smack! Her hand against his cheek as if she'd read his mind. What a rewarding thing to think.’”

Her lips connect to his and he drops the book. His eyes close. He drinks her in, his hands running up the back of her thighs, her ass, her back, pulling her dress up as he goes. Their lips part for only a moment as he pulls her dress over her head and onto the floor, then their tongues find each other again. She pulls off his jacket and unbuttons his dress shirt, discarding them somewhere.

Before his hands can touch her skin again, she grabs onto his wrists and pins them over his head. She smiles against his mouth then pulls away, her hand falling from his wrists to his belt. Timothée makes sure he doesn't move his arms. She frees the belt and crawls off of his lap then instructs him to face away from her with his hands behind his back. He does so without a second thought, as if by nature.

After tying the belt around his wrists securely she asks him to sit back down, and of course, he does so immediately. It's as if he's in a trance, willing to do anything and everything for a woman he only just met. She could demand he lick the ground that she walks on and he would, happily, oblige.

As she gets on her knees in front of him and begins unbuttoning his pants, he stares at her like an obedient puppy, waiting for a treat. She grips the waistband and pulls them down. In his hurry, he'd forgotten to put any underwear on – she grins up at him, delighted.

A shuddery breath escapes his lungs and his fingers flex in their restraints as she grips the base of his cock and licks at the head, lapping up his sticky wetness. He's fully hard – painfully hard – and the tip of his cock is a deep reddish purple.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groans as she, without warning, swallows him down to the hilt. He leans his head back and his back arches and he wants, desperately, to free his hands and run them through her pretty hair. His forehead, neck, and chest are already glistening with sweat, his abs flexing and rippling as his tip repeatedly hits the back of her warm, wet throat.

The sounds of spit and soft gagging fill the room and he has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from cumming. Spit dribbles down and coats his balls, pooling under them. He gets close, too close, and impulsively places his foot on her shoulder to nudge her away. She falls softly on her ass and his cock springs free with a pop, slapping lewdly against his stomach.

His muscles relax, and he feels like he can breathe again.

“Was it too much?” she asks, crawling onto the couch beside him, snuggling into his shoulder.

“‘m sorry, y/n,” he says quietly. He almost called her mommy. “I was so close.”

His brain feels mushy. He doesn't know what it is, but he likes it.

She connects her soft lips to his and wraps her hand lightly around his cock, stroking it up and down rhythmically. Their tongues dance together and Timothée moans in both arousal and contentment.

“Are you ready to feel my pussy, baby?” she asks after pulling away from his lips and standing, towering over him. He can only nod, unable to speak.

She reaches behind her back and unhooks her white lace bra, dropping it onto the floor. Her tits are perfect and plush and a line of spit trickles down Timothée's chin. He's actually drooling.

Then, she hooks her thumbs through the waistband of her panties – white and lacey like her bra – and pulls them down, stepping out of them. He stares at her pussy that's covered in a neat blanket of hair and whines, a somehow deeper hunger erupting through him.

“You like what you see?” she asks, smiling, and he nods quickly.

Straddling him again, she grabs his face and kisses him deeply. His cock throbs pathetically between them and she grabs it, sliding his length between the lips of her wet pussy.

He struggles in his restraints. “Please, I need—”

“You need what?”

“Need to feel you, please—”

With that, she sinks down onto his cock, his length filling her up like a hand in a glove, a perfect fit. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he bucks his hips upward without meaning to, letting out a desperate, guttural groan.

She rides him, her hands in his hair and her head thrown back in pleasure, the speed of her hips increasing by the second.

She leans down and kisses his lips repeatedly. “You're so fucking big, baby. So fucking big. Gonna make me cum. Gonna make mommy cum.”

The way she called herself mommy almost makes Timothée faint. His hair sticks to his forehead with sweat and he doubts he can hold on for any longer, his orgasm being drawn closer and closer as her warmth tightens around him. He can almost see stars.

“Fuck, fuck! I'm cumming, I'm–”

She quickly climbs off of him and ends up on her knees again, jerking him off, his tip on her tongue. His vision goes black, his entire body tenses, and he releases, coating her tongue in sticky white mess.

Once he finishes, and before he knows what's happening, she connects their lips, swirling her tongue around his. His own tongue is now covered in his cum as they make out, exchanging a concoction of spit and release.

Their lips disconnect after a moment and she collapses onto his shoulder, their chests rising and falling. His own cum is dripping down his chin. He swallows.

“A forbidden love,” she whispers.

It's only one in the afternoon, and she doesn't even know his name.

[imperator-kahlo]

OK what even is happening with the Crows

I’ve just been trawling through the wiki and World of Thedas for a few hours trying to figure out what we (a) know, (b) can guess, (c) can speculate wildly about the inner workings of the Crows during the Dragon age.

(I am by no means an expert on the lore so please let me know where I have wildly missed the mark).

I'm definitely not trying to propose any kind of fanon consensus, where's the fun in that?! Just trying to figure out a timeline that makes sense to me. Possibly also toying around with a pre-canon Rookanis fic.

Loooong and probably insanely disorganised text post under the cut. I should have been in bed hours ago but I am hyperfixating on this and will not sleep until I hit post.

Spoilers, so many spoilers below: Veilguard, Tevinter Nights, The Silent Grove, Origins, Awakenings, the entire franchise basically.

So, a speculative timeline. Events in black are fairly or very well supported by the lore; events in blue are inconsistent/uncertain in the lore; events in purple are guesses that I can sort of back up; events in red are me throwing a dartboard at the wall.

Note: The wiki puts the events of "Eight Little Talons" in 9:44 Dragon, but I can't find any source for that. I would have guessed a little later, but let's roll with 9:44.

Also, I'm pretty unclear on the guildmaster/grandmaster distinction. I'm just going to say 'head of house' for whoever is in charge of a Crow house, or Talon if they're head of one of the eight Talon Houses.

Blessed Age

8:70 Blessed - Caterina born (she's described as well into her 70s during Eight Little Talons and as around 80 in the data-mined character descriptions for Veilguard, so give or take a couple years this seems right).

9:00 to 9:29 Dragon: House Arainai Shenanigans

9:00 Dragon - Antivan civil war, beginning of the "much maligned" Three Queens era (Codex, History of Kirkwall - Chapter 4). Unclear exactly what happens or over what period of time, but seems like the Crows would be in the thick of things.

9:05 - 9:10 - Caterina maybe reaches Talon status (not First, though). Around 8:98 Blessed would be the absolute earliest she could get there given Teia's holds the record (youngest Talon at 28). But I think Teia was at least three or four years younger than any previous Talon so I'd put it somewhere around here, if not a few years later.

9:12 Dragon - Zevran, aged 7, is purchased from a Rialto brothel by House Arainai. The House is led by First Talon Talav Arainai and described as rolling in coin after the "Three Brides" contract - they purchase 17 other slaves that year, including Taliesen (World of Thedas, vol 2, p. 96). I think based purely on vibes that House Arainai is fairly secure in First Talon position and has been there at least a couple years, probably longer.

9:15ish Dragon - Teia born (she's described as 28 in the data-mined descriptions, but she's already a Talon in 'Eight Little Talons', which says she was the youngest ever to reach the rank at age 28. I'm assuming she got there a year or two before the events of the story. See 9:17.

9:16 Dragon - whoops, sometime over the last four years it all went to shit for Talav Arainai! The House dropped to Second Talon, and he was executed in 9:16 after trying to take back the seat of First. Isadora Arainai takes over, and the House hangs on as Second Talon... for now. Rinna joins House Arainai and immediately works well with Zevran and Taliesen under the mentorship of Eoman Arainai (World of Thedas, vol 2, p. 96). This would be the earliest that Caterina could reach First Talon, but I'm not sure I'd put it this early. I think the latest she could possible reach First would be 9:25ish based on my guesses about House Velardo (see below).

9:17 Dragon - Lucanis born (described as 36 in the data-mined character descriptions. I know I threw out those descriptions for Teia, but I think we can be pretty certain Lucanis is mid thirties).

9:17 Dragon - Teia born. I was going back through Eight Little Talons and my initial read was wrong. Teia is 28 during the events of the story.

9:24 Dragon - House Arainai, having the sort of shitty luck they absolutely deserve, falls entirely out of the rank of Talons when Second Talon Isadora dies. They wallow amongst the cuchillos (minor houses) for a few years (World of Thedas, vol 2, p. 96).

9:22 - 9:27 - House Velardo attempts to usurp First Talon from House Dellamorte? The resulting war kills all of Caterina's children and grandchildren, save Lucanis and Illario. My reasoning here is this: Lucanis says he and Illario would have ended up with Caterina to train, but being orphaned sent them to her younger than anticipated. Zevran was purchased at age 7, so we know Crow training, at least for House Arainai slaves, begins very young. Perhaps the non-slave children of influential house leaders start later, but I would guess not much. So I'm assuming they end up with Caterina sometime between ages 5 and 10?

9:25 Dragon - King Maric is thought lost at sea, but is in reality being held by Third Talon Claudio Valisti in a Crow prison on behalf of a Tevinter Magister, Aurielion Titus.

Side note: I had the same reaction to finding out the Crows have a super-fun torture prison as I did to finding out Weisshaupt has dungeons. Just... why? That feels like mission creep? Does the assassin skill set at all overlap with the prison guard skill set?

9:26 - 9:28 - Eoman takes over as head of House Arainai. He eliminates House Ferragani, which was Eighth Talon, thus clearing the way for Arainai to claw its way back into power. Unfortunately, he needs the support of Third Talon Claudio Valisti to take over the position. Valisti wants Rinna Arainai dead (cult / royal bastard reasons) and Eoman tricks Zevran and Taliesen, her lovers, into doing it. This was a very stupid decision (WoT vol 2, p. 96).

9:30 to 9:43 Dragon: Zevran's Revenge

9:30 Dragon - Zevran, depressed and angry about Rinna's death, bids for the contract on the Warden's life. House Arainai is said to have accepted this contract because they believed Loghain to be the best person to defeat the blight (WoT vol 2, p. 96).

Side note: This sort of, if you squint, reconciles the contract on the Warden's life in 9:30 with the memento found in Veilguard that says the Crows had treaties with the Wardens to fight the "next blight". But also they tried to kill the Warden-Commander in Awakenings, too. I guess one could argue a new blight was unlikely so soon but like. Come on, guys. Is your word to the Wardens worth anything or not?

9:31 - 9:34 - If Zevran survived, he comes back from Ferelden with a spring in his step and murder in his heart (and possibly a Warden on his arm) and wreaks absolute havoc on House Arainai. Eoman is first to go, then like half a dozen more of their top people. The House loses Eighth Talon and falls once more into obscurity. The Crows call Zevran (or an unnamed assassin if Zevran is dead) the "Black Shadow" and speculate that he has allies among the cuchillos (WoT vol 2, p. 96).

9:34 - 9:43 - Where the fuck is Zevran?

9:37 Dragon - Corypheus is freed (Legacy DLC). The Venatori will start to be a thing in the next few years, so Lucanis is going to pick up his nickname between now and, say 9:50 Dragon. I'd put it between 9:45 and 9:49 because of vibes (and because he talks about not immediately specialising in mages. Crows get started very young, but I dunno. I see him starting on mages in his mid twenties because, again, vibes.)

9:38 - 9:40 - Events of The Silent Grove (comic - I haven't read it in a while but I'm throwing it in here for complete-ish-ness). Alistair, Varric and Isabela break into the Crow archive and Velabanchel prison (which side note is a totally heinous operation). Isabela kills Claudio Valisti (Third Talon passes to Ezio Valisti). This, for me, raises the question again: Where the fuck is Zevran (sob). Valisti was implicated in Rinna's death, so either Zevran never found out or he couldn't get to Valisti while he was cleaning house.

9:44 Dragon - Ongoing: We're Entering Our Freedom-Fighter Era

9:44 Dragon - The events of 'Eight Little Talons'. Briefly: Caterina calls all the Talons together to plan for the imminent invasion of the Antaam, but a whole bunch of murder happens. Turns out that Fourth Talon Emil Kortez made deal with the Antaam and was trying to wipe out the Crows' leadership. He was killed by the survivors and Viago suggests--correctly, I think--that Caterina will wipe out the whole house.

The following Talons are killed but it seems like their houses will probably retain their status, with somebody else taking over as Talon:

Dante Balazar, Second

Lera Valisti, Third

Giuli Arainai, Eighth (having only just managed to lift that fucking house back up to Talonship, shame lol)

In addition to Caterina, Viago, and Teia, Sixth Talon Nero Bolivar survives, but he um, isn't much help. I would guess that Caterina, in a pretty strong alliance with Viago and Teia and with all the other Talons being new, might fuck his shit up and try to get someone more solid in before the Antaam invade?

9:44 - ongoing - WHERE THE FUCK IS ZEVRAN???? He can't have taken control of any of the eight Talon houses, because he's not at the summit in 'Eight Little Talons'-- and however much he damaged House Arainai, they've clawed back some power by 9:44. Is there a breakaway faction of cuchillo houses that Caterina won't even dignify with an acknowledgment? Is he not interested in any kind of Crow power and is just fucking shit up for them - we can assume House Valisti has had a lock on Third Talon since at least 9:28 (Claudio or Ezio Valisti pop up periodically in this position), and my guess is House de Riva have held Fifth a decent period of time, but as far as I can tell we know nothing about Second, Fourth, Sixth and Seventh Talon Houses in this period. So maybe Zev is toppling houses left, right and centre? Seems like that sort of instability might have changed Caterina's approach in 'Eight Little Talons', though...

9:51 - Lucanis imprisoned in the Ossuary.

9:51 - Antaam invasion of Antiva, starting with Treviso. The Antaam rebellion begins in 9:44 and is ongoing; the failure of Kortez in 9:44 delayed the invasion somewhat. I wouldn't have thought it would delay it this much, but I'm pretty sure that it happened while Lucanis was imprisoned, right? So since we free him in 9:52 after a year in the Ossuary, the invasion must have been delayed until 9:51? Maybe very late 9:50?

"Conclusions"

(I haven't read the comics in a bit and I know there's some Crow stuff that goes down in there beyond the Silent Grove... but as best I recall its just Teia and Viago running into Varric and Harding, and some stuff setting up Solas and the Antaam. Please let me know if I'm mistaken!)

I think it's safe to say the Crows are in chaos for pretty much the entire first half of the Dragon age: Arainai are causing chaos from 9:16 to 9:25, then they pass the torch to Velardo, whose war against House Dellamorte must have lasted a few years if it wiped out almost all of Caterina's family. Zevran is on a murder spree at least between 9:31 and 9:34, and possibly (much) longer depending on your headcanon.

After, at very best, a decade's peace, 9:44 sees the plot to wipe out the Crow leadership, which fails but does kill half the Talons and lead to the elimination of at least one, maybe two of the Talon Houses. Half a decade after that the Antaam invades.

I've been completely on board with the critiques of Veilguard's portrayal of the Crows, but I think writing it all out like this has helped me reconcile things a little bit? This is a deeply chaotic network of feuding families, and no single Talon is going to have the secure political power to make sweeping changes. Which isn't to say the child abuse that was definitely still occuring in Houses Dellamorte and de Riva during Rook and Lucanis' childhoods is just fine. But it makes more sense to me now that Houses Dellamorte, de Riva and Cantori could have wildly different ideas about slavery and torture prisons than, say Houses Arainai and Valisti--and have extremely limited power to shift the culture of competing Houses. Even the First Talon's position is deeply precarious.

Whew. Good night!

(Just realised as I was tagging that I haven't slotted The Wigmaker Job in anywhere. I thiiiiink Viago mentions in 'Eight Little Talons' that Lucanis is currently in Tevinter for a job, maybe a sly reference to Wigmaker? But I cannot possibly get sucked in any deeper, my dog is losing her entire mind at me STILL being at the computer.)

***

Waking up and editing to add: At some point in her time as a Talon (probably First but I guess maybe not?), Caterina wiped out another house so completely that Teia doesn't even recognise the name, Gaspari, when Viago mentions it in 'Eight Little Talons'. Given House Velardo was the one that made a play for First Talon, this is a whole 'nother big intra-Crows conflict that slots in somewhere on this timeline. Caterina is ruthless, y'all.

***

Editing again a few days later to report that I was flicking through WoT and spotted a WHOLE-ASS ENTRY on Claudio Valisti that I’d managed to miss. I was… not happy. I’m begging you BioWare, no more information. I cannot reconcile it.

Anyway. World of Thedas, vol 2, p 44, has Claudio Valisti taking over from his father as Eighth Talon in 9:34, quickly getting the house to Sixth Talon and appearing to be going places. This appears to contradict p. 96 of the same, which has a Third Talon Claudio Valisti helping House Arainai in 9:28, as described above.

I thought very carefully about tearing the page out, burning it, and forgetting I ever knew this particular piece of lore.

Instead I have decided fuck it, we have a father-son pair here. Senior helped out Arainai in 9:28. His house later fell to Eighth (in my incredibly unwieldy and underdeveloped headcanon this is partly because helping Arainai really pissed off Caterina). Claudio Senior dies in 9:34, Claudio Junior inherits. By the time Junior dies to Isabela in 9:38-40 he’s got the house properly back on track, so the loss of a leader doesn’t destabilise them too badly.

Ezio Valisti is Third Talon in 9:41, according to the Winter Palace announcer in Inquisition, and the house still holds the third seat in 9:44.

(Also edited Teia’s birth year from 9:15 to 9:17; I misread Eight Little Talons. She’s 28 during the events of the story.)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Another thankless day of serving cold cuts and cheese to the general public as you ready to tear your hair out. You don’t see how anyone could make such a fuss about a trip to the deli but the locals have a way of exacerbating any simplicity. You’re just happy to be free. 

The bus is late. You stand at the curb and bounce on your heels. You just want to lay down. The lack of sleep is starting to split your skull. 

You yawn and watch a truck blow by. It’s a sleepy old town, nestled between farmland and stretches of dirty roads. The sort of backwoods you don’t drive through after dark. It’s so dull you could fall asleep on your feet. 

A sudden gust of air rips through the sky and the unusual whirlwind circles you. You look up through slitted eyes as dirty speckles across your face. You furrow your brow as lights and flames glow as a red figure lands in front of you.

The electric blue haze goes out and your faced with the suit of crimson and gold. You grip your purse strap and gulp. You haven’t checked your phone yet. You couldn’t have predicted this. 

“Shit.” You mutter. 

His helmet snaps back and he smirks. The silver streaks in his dark hair puff out and he smooths them down. He puts his hand on his hip and scoffs, “name’s Tony Stark, thanks.” 

You cringe and cross your arms. “We met.” 

“Yeah, I remember you. Nearly forgot before everything blew up. You know, this thing...” he pauses to take his phone out. “Hasn’t shut up all fucking day. I got lawyers down my throat--” 

“Your phone is blowing up? My house blew up.” You sneer. 

“Okay, relax. It was a trailer. I said I’d replace it--” 

“Then do it.” 

“Ooh, spicy. I didn’t guess you to be the type but after seeing your little online storytelling, I shoulda guessed.” 

“It’s the truth. That’s it.” You turn to watch for the bus. You’re aware of the few people slowing to stare at the man in his techno-suit. 

“I mean, a little gratitude here, honey. I’m more than happy to slap a new box in the lot but you don’t gotta be this way about it.” He derides. You look at him from the corner of your eyes and scowl. “At least a smile. Bet you’re gorgeous when you smile.” 

He winks and you flinch. Really? 

“Fine. Once we have a new trailer, I’ll delete the post. Sounds pretty fair to me.” 

“Now. Take it down now and then we can go shopping for a new train car,” he chirps. 

You frown and face him. “It’s just a post.” 

“I got a reputation, sweetheart. I’m important that way. I know you might not be able to fathom that but one busted up hellhole is nothing compared to what I do for this planet. Didn’t you see me on the TV, handing out lollipops to hurricane survivors? What are you doing besides whine on the internet?” He stares you down, his expression turning sinister as his grin fades. 

“If it’s not a big deal, then it shouldn’t take much, should it?” You challenge. 

“Wow, you sure are mouthy, aren’t you?” 

“I’m tired.” You peer down the street again. “I worked a full shift and my feet hurt. You wouldn’t know about that, would you? With your penthouse and your dad’s money.” 

“I earned my company.” He snarls. “You watch where you’re stepping, sweetheart. I’m being nice. I flew all the way back to this ditch, so let’s not play dirty.” 

Your heart races. You don’t know why you’ve said so much. Maybe because you’ve worn a customer service smile all day and you’re all out of fucks to give?

And what do you have left to lose? A family that treats you like a gnat flying around their heads and a musty old futon. Your life wasn’t great before but damn if he didn’t make it a whole lot worse. 

“You do whatever. You’re Tony Stark. Iron Man.” Your tone is deflated and monotone. “I can’t do anything about it, can I? Just whine on the internet?” 

You step further down the sidewalk and stare at the approaching headlights. The bus is finally there. Even if he really means to replace the dusty old shithole, you don’t need his self-aggrandized kindness. Not if this is how it’s delivered. 

You pull out your bus fare as you sway beneath the sign. A sharp noise tweaks your ear and you’re seized in a metal vice. Your arms are trapped against your sides as Tony zooms up into the sky, the air whipping around your face as you holler in horror. 

“What-- are—you—doing?” You shriek as you wriggle, kicking into the empty void around you. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice rises from behind his helmet. “You’re gonna wanna be still. If I drop you, you’re gonna hit the ground like a bug on a windshield.” 

“What the fuck?” You exclaim and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Just givin’ you a lift home. Like a nice guy would do.” He chuckles. “Now don’t breathe too heavy up here. At this altitude... well...” 

You put your head down, shielding it against the shoulder plate of his suit, and you bend your arms to cling to him. You have no other choice but to hold on for dear life.

You get his point. Tony Stark is more than money. He can do whatever the hell he wants.