#PLEASE feel free to talk to me if I have ever said anything offensive

[itsmarsss]

hunchback of notre-dame [Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader] (Marvel)

You get this ridiculous idea that you just need to mark a huge heart into his back.

Word count: 1,945

Warnings: sexual innuendos and jokes all around, mention of logan being a 'free pass' in your relationship lol, wade having a hard time grasping intimacy that isn't of a sexual nature, wade feeling self-conscious and speaking badly of his own appearance. established relationship. so many ridiculous and over-the-top pet names.

kiiinda loosely based off this ask- "Deadpool with s/o who keeps biting him? Not sexually (mostly) but I need to CHOMP this man."

“Please? Please please please please please please? Come onnnn sweetie-pie. Darling-dear. Baby boy. Baby.”

“Oh my God never call me ‘darling-dear’ again, what is this, medieval england?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Geez Louise why do you wanna do that so bad? Is it like a biting kink or something?”

“It could be.” You shrug.

“I’m listening.”

You roll your eyes at his reply. “‘Course now you are. I just wanna see how it looks!”

“It’s gonna heal in like two seconds, you know that, right?. I’m not sure it’ll even show.”

“Yeah but get this- what if you tried really really hard to stop it from healing?”

“I… don’t think that’s how it works, pookie-bear,” he tells you, booping your nose along with the ridiculous pet name.

You ignore it. “You don’t know that!”

He stops to think for a couple seconds before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. This once.”

“Yes! Take your shirt off. And throw it in the wash, how many days have you been wearing it for?”

“Oh, too many to count, sweetheart.” 

“That’s gross, Wade.”

“Hey now, I’m gonna revoke your biting privileges!” He threatens, but proceeds to take the shirt off as and throw it in the hamper anyway.

“Nuh-uh, no take-backsies.”

“Then stop insulting my habits!” He sits down on the bed and you sit yourself on your legs right behind him. 

“What? When have I ever done that?” You feign confusion, kissing his shoulder.

“Now that’s just gaslighting. You’re a gaslighter. A mean, evil, toxic gaslighter and you’re gaslighting me.”

You laugh. “Oh whatever, grown man who needs to be reminded to do his laundry. You ready?”

“No?”

“Why do you even care so much? You get, like, stabbed on the daily.”

“Yeah but this isn’t… stabbing. Stabbing I’m used to.”

“I can stab you if you want me to.”

“Can you really?” 

“If you’re into that,” you play along.

“Oh you know I am, baby. No but that’s not what I meant.”

You kiss his lower back without a warning, and you can’t contain a smile at the way he shivers. “What do you mean, then?”

“This is… different.” He fidgets with his own hands as he talks, eyes trained on them over his own lap.

“What, not every person you’ve ever dated that’s asked to bite a heart into your back?” You continue kissing your way up his back, up until where you want said heart to start.

“Oh no, everyone asks me for that on the reg actually. I’m actually super mega lucky that I heal so fast, otherwise I’d just have to come home with all those hearts on my back all the time and you would not be happy with that would you?”

You punch his shoulder lightly and he smiles. “You bet I wouldn’t! Only I get to do this, you hear me?” You exclaim, feigning offense.

“Wolvie carved a heart into my thigh once. Hottest thing to ever happen to me. No offense.”

“None taken.” You bite the skin of his back right where you’d just kissed before. Not so hard that it’s meant to hurt, it’s not that kind of night, but not as if he’d break either, since, well, he kind of can’t. You suck lightly on the skin to make sure to leave a tiny mark and it’s a little funny to be doing this with no ulterior motives. “Especially since that for sure never happened.”

“It could have.” 

“If Logan ever carves a fucking heart into your thigh and I’m not there to witness it I will be so mad.” 

“Hey I thought we had a free pass with him!”

“Not if I’m not involved! Or at least get to watch.”

“Aye, aye, captain. Anything else you wanna witness between us, sweetcheeks?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m done, how about that?” You grin before resuming your work, biting and sucking on the scarred skin until you can see the aligned marks almost forming the shape you want them to. 

It’s a shock that it gets him to shut up for even just a few seconds, so it’s no surprise that the silence doesn’t last all that long. “This is…  It’s different… It’s… It’s really intimate isn’t it? Like overwhelmingly so. Is it hot in here, are you hot?”

You stop immediately. “Hey. Don’t freak out on me. I know I insisted a little but I didn’t think you were hesitating ‘cause you were uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have-” 

“No- no no no no no, it’s fine. It’s… Nice. It’s silly, but it’s nice. Just different.”

You stare at him until he manages to get himself to look up at you and nod, easing your worries and letting yourself believe him. “Okay. But only if you’re sure. And don’t call me silly!”

“You’re making it really hard, sugartits.”

“Hey!” You flick the back of his head.

“Ow! What was that for? It’s obvious that by ‘it’ I meant my dick. I was dirty talking. Clearly.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You bite into his skin again. He stays still and weirdly quiet once again, eyes closed and still shivering occasionally as you trace kisses along his back before following them with bites and, finally, the main goal- the hickeys. 

“You done?”

“Almost. Missing three.”

“They all still there?”

“They’re fading, but they’re still there. You trying to keep them?”

He shrugs, very obviously trying his hardest to pretend he doesn’t care. “Well you wanted me to, didn’t you?” 

You smile, cupping his jaw with one of your hands and turning his face to the side so you can give him a quick kiss. 

“Almost done,” you promise.

“Do it harder.”

“What?”

“Bite harder.”

“What, is this you saying you have some sort of biting kink?”

“First of all, you should have guessed that. Second of all, no, I just don’t want them to fade so fast.” 

“So someone’s enjoying the idea now.”

“Enjoying is pushing it. Curious is a better-fitting word.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Making the last of the marks, you lean back to admire the work. “Done,” you announce, tracing the shape with the tips of your fingers. 

“Well, can I see it?”

“Yeah.” You pull him to his feet and lead him to the full body mirror in the corner of the room. Turning himself around so his back is facing the mirror, he looks over his shoulder so he can see it too.

“Oh.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I thought it would… you can barely see it with the… you know. The scars.”

“Of course you can see it! Look!” You trace the shape on his skin with your pointer finger for him to see in the reflection.

“You know what I meant.” 

“I- didn’t want it to make you feel bad. It was really silly anyway. You can let it heal if you want to.”

“It’s not- it’s not that. Fuck, I know this was supposed to be this whole funny haha silly cutesy little thing but I just- I don’t even know why you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Put up with it.”

“What exactly?”

“This. It’s not really the best view in town, is it?” There he goes, unable to look you in the eye again.

“Sorry?”

“Like why would you even want to see this? You just spent like ten minutes staring at my back, which frankly looks like I single-handedly brought leprosy back to fashion and then you- just- like even just my face is enough for people to, like, projectile vomit. Why’d you make yourself do this right now?”

“I didn’t make myself do anything. I had to convince you to let me do it´.”

“‘Cause you wanna prove something.”

“What would I wanna prove with something so dumb?”

“I don’t know. That you don’t see me as a monster or something.” 

“I don’t see you as a monster. But I wasn’t trying to prove anything.”

Letting his face fall into his hands, he lets out a frustrated sigh, as if he hadn’t meant for the conversation to come to this. And he probably hadn’t, really, but he already did so much of pretending to be fine all the time. It sucked to see him like this, but at least he was letting himself be real, be honest with you about the way he was feeling. 

You’ve come a long way to gain this kind of trust. 

“Sorry. Ruined the moment. Way to go, Wade!” He apologizes.

“You don’t have to say sorry, you know that by now.” 

He glances at the mirror again and sees all the marks have gone away already, his mind going elsewhere and interrupting the focus he’d been putting into trying to put off the healing of them. He finally turns around to actually face you. “See? Can’t even have this one fucking silly little thing you wanted. It’s gone already cause, guess what, I’m a fucking freak of nature now. Like The Hunchback of Notre-Dame or something. I don’t know, I didn’t watch the movie.” 

You laugh. “Well I’ll just be Esmeralda then.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Oh you’d find her so hot, dude. But doesn’t matter.” You walk up to him, kissing him gently from his ear to his jaw to his neck to his lips. “Don’t fucking question why I love you ever again, that’s, like, so rude.”

“Oh that was just so sappy, even for you babe, massive sap vibes all over.”

“Oh shut up you big baby.” You place a last gentle kiss on the palm of his hand. “I have an idea.” You pull yourself away from him, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Yeah? Does it involve pity sex? Cause I’m feeling down and I am ready to pounce if you are and-“ He raises an eyebrow in question when you come back holding up something. “That some new vibrator or something?” 

“Can you wait like ten seconds?” 

“Ten seconds? Babe, you know that’s asking too much of me when I’m this horny. They don’t call me The Flash for nothing.” 

“Who is ‘they’? And what does that even mean?”

“Sorry, wrong franchise. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Huh?”

“Back to the vibrator.”

“It’s lipstick.” You turn to face the mirror, taking your time applying the dark red color to your lips. “Kay, turn around, pretty boy.”

“Oooh, kinky! You gonna gimme a rimjob with that lipstick on?  Wait is that another kink? We are full of surprises today.” He quips, turning around as asked. 

“Wade please shut up.” 

“You know I can’t do th- aaahh what are you doing?” He flinches, taken by surprise by the kiss you place on his back, right where the heart you’d marked on him had been.

“Well you can keep these ones a little longer.” This time, he keeps quiet the entire time you take to mark the heart on his back once again, with the lipstick this time, reapplying it before every other kiss so the marks truly showed. 

“Fuuuckkk I’m never washing my back again,” he comments as he admires the reflection in the mirror.

“Don’t even start.” 

“I’m staying dirty forever and it’s gonna be your fault, sweetheart,” he declares as he turns around to face you, and it pleases you to see his mood seems better. 

“We are taking a shower in a couple hours and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“We?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively at the implication.

“If that gets you to actually shower for once.”

“Hey, I shower all the time!”

“Then you can shower without me like a big boy.” 

“Actually I don’t take showers I don’t know how.” 

“Yeah, yeah I figured.”

A/N: hey send me stuff for deadpool i actually enjoyed writing this lol it was v fun and cute!! i hope it isn't much too ooc lol i still gotta get the hang of writing wade

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 18: Spanking

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7590

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, over the knee spanking (my favorite cmdmdmd), paddling with a hairbrush

A/N: I really hope this one isn't too messy, I haven't been feeling super great and I am posting this at *checks clock* 4:26 in the morning skdnfksnf so please be gentle with me! 🙈

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The Duke of Meropide was a truly infuriating scoundrel! 

You’d been arguing with him in his office for almost an hour now and it felt like all you’d done is go around in endless circles. One moment he would in all seriousness shoot down a suggestion or a point you’ve made, and the next he would abruptly ask you about tea or cookies with equal sincerity. You couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and you were quickly reaching the end of your patience with him. Had the topic of reform and rehabilitation of ex inmates not been so very important to you, you’re sure you would have stormed out of his office a long time ago. 

“For the final time, my lord, I care for neither your white tea nor your black tea.” You intone as mildly as you can manage given the state of your nerves. “Please, just listen to me for a moment. That is all I ask.” 

Perfectly casual, Wriothesley reclines back into his tall chair and brings his hands together over the bend of a propped up knee. “I have been listening. Quite attentively too. However, I just don’t see how your proposal is going to work and I think you might be barking up the wrong tree, miss. My apologies for saying so.” 

“No offense taken.” You clench your jaw so tight it hurts. “But why do you think it isn’t going to work? Have I not explained the steps to successful rehabilitation enough for your liking?” 

“No, you’ve been perfectly thorough. Excessive, even.” 

Spine snapping straight at that, you pin him with a furious look you don’t even try to conceal but he just waves it off without missing a beat. 

“The problem is, I don’t think you understand how the Fortress of Meropide functions. It is you who hasn’t been listening to me, I’m afraid.” He continues on, as stony and impassive as ever. “As I already said, the inmates are free to leave once their sentences are served in full. It’s just that the vast majority of them do not wish to return to the surface world and choose to stay here of their own volition. There’s nothing I nor you can do to change that.” 

“But — but that’s because there weren’t any systems in place to help them!” You stammer, desperately rifling through your stacks of paperwork and statistics in search of the findings collected on job and housing placement welfare. Finally locating it with a triumphant puff of air, you jump to your feet and shove it at him over the desk even when he tries to once again wave it off. “The proof is right here, your grace. It should take only a moment of your time to read and understand the data presented in this report for someone as no doubt well informed as you are.” 

Stilling, Wriothesley steadily meets your look of challenge with a cool stare of his own. A beat passes and then, heaving a rather terse sigh, he reaches out to reluctantly accept the sheet from you. “I’ll look at it but I’m telling you, miss. These graphs and numbers don’t mean anything in the real world.” 

“We’ll see about that.” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, impertinently standing over him while he reads even when you know you’re really pushing your luck here. He was a duke, a by all accounts certificate wielding lord in the flesh and blood, and you, a lowly commoner, had no right to try and force his hand like this. Still, you hold your ground though, confident that you knew what you were talking about when you had the data to back it up. It was he who didn’t understand how the real world worked after spending so much time underneath the ocean in this rust bucket of bolts he called a fortress. 

His eyes steadily move over the page, taking in everything at an agreeable enough pace to placate you into silence, and Wriothesley eventually gives his head a curt nod when he reaches the bottom. “I see. It’s just as I thought.” 

You have but the blink of an eye to feel the first dawnings of hope start to crest over your heart and then, unceremonious as can be, he reaches over to neatly deposit the paper into the trash bin. 

“It’s garbage.” 

“Wh - wait just a minute - what do you mean it’s garbage?” You stammer, spit and sputter in white-hot affront so potent you start to feel your cheeks becoming warm. It takes every single ounce of self control you possess not to round on the desk and throttle the life right out of him! “If you didn’t understand the information all you had to do was ask, your grace and I would have gladly taken the time to - -“

“I understood it perfectly, miss, and I am once again telling you that it is your understanding of the situation that is inherently flawed, not mine. You simply can’t make the prisoners do something they don’t want. I trust that you do understand that much, at least?”  

“It is not a matter of making them!” You seethe, hands clenching into tight fists at your sides. “It’s giving them a viable option between spending the rest of their lives trapped under the sea or being able to rejoin their friends and family on the surface. I expected you to have at least a little bit of sympathy for the people under your care!” 

Heaving another soft sigh, Wriothesley unfolds his legs and sits forward to brace his elbows on the desk in the most impolite slouch you’ve ever seen from someone who was supposedly a part of the aristocracy. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I think I care about them a shade more than you do. We’re talking about people who have made a new place for themselves down here and it would be remiss of me to start kicking them out just so you can get your brownie points. This is their home.” 

You jerk as if he’d physically struck you. “Now you listen here - -“ 

“No. I have listened to you enough for one afternoon, miss.” He cuts across you like the crack of a whip without either raising his voice nor sharpening his tone, but the low rumble in it is still enough to stop you in your tracks. 

Eyes widening slightly, you watch him stand from his chair and sedately step around the desk to come loom over you with his imposingly massive frame that leaves you pitifully craning your neck back when he stops in front of you. 

“It’s time for you to listen to me now. I’m sure you had good intentions in coming here with this little scheme you cooked up but I’m telling you it isn’t going to work. The inmates who choose to stay here like the simplicity of life in Meropide and the stability it provides them. So long as they work hard and stay out of trouble they’ll have no problems earning a living for themselves but can the same be said about the overworld? What’s going to happen when they get fired from the jobs you place them in after running late one too many times? Or what about when they fall asleep during their shift from exhaustion? Do you know what happens when either of those things occur down here? They simply don’t get their regular number of coupons for the day but they can always come back and do better the next. Will they have that same security up on the surface?” 

“T - that’s why rehabilitation is so important.” You rush to say. “We can teach them to reintegrate into society so that they won’t have to worry about things like that - -“ 

“Everyone worries about things like that, little miss. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

Your eyes flash at him dangerously. “Do not call me that! In fact, I believe I’ve had quite enough of you at this point! I want to speak to someone else! Preferably a person with something more substantial than rocks for brains!” 

Wriothesley scowls at that, narrowing his own eyes back at you in warning. “You can want it all you like but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. I’m the only person you need to speak to right now … and I would suggest you reconsider how you’re speaking to me.” 

“Hah! Or what?” Riding high on adrenaline and jittery nerves, you impulsively reach out to jab a finger at the center of his big, beefy chest. “You can’t throw me into a cell just because you don’t like the tone of my voice! Is that the kind of operation you're running down here? Maybe when I get back up to the surface I should contact The Steambird about the tyrannical power trip his grace is on!” 

He snorts a brief laugh as if the very notion was a ludicrous one, though you couldn’t tell if it was your assertion or the thought that you might go to the papers that he found humorous. “That’s funny, but I don’t need to throw you in prison just to put you in your place, miss. I’m giving you one final warning to knock it off and calm down.” 

You take an aggressive step closer to him, head tilted all the way back now so you could see his face past the bulky mass across his pectorals. “Enlighten me then, my lord. What are you going to do to me if I don’t bend the knee?” 

“I think I might start by taking you over my knee first.” 

Giving a startled jerk, you go stock still and just stare at him for the span of a single heartbeat. The ice suddenly gripping your veins is instantly replaced by a hot, raging inferno that seems to make your blood boil and, seeing red, you viciously bring your heel down on the top of his boot, grinding it in for good measure. “I’d like to see you try it, you ba - -“ 

His hand shoots up and, much to your squawking surprise, he grabs around the meat of your upper arm to tug you into him, making you stumble and half fall against the bend of his elbow. Before you even have a chance to draw a full breath to berate him with his other hand cracks across the meat of your ass with a deafening whap! The sharp pain is immediate and splintering, rocking you against him with the abrupt impact as your mouth warbles open in equal parts hurt and shock. He gives your arm a tight yank to keep you pressed in against his side when you try to scuttle away, nudging you insistently until you realize you have no choice but to look up at him except … except you’re not sure if you do so with impotent rage darkening your face or if it’s a tearfully remorseful expression he sees looking back at him. 

Perhaps it was a frustrating combination of the two? 

Wriothesley regards you in contemplative silence for a long moment, his own facial expression not giving much of anything away while the blinding sting across your backside gradually settles into a constant burning throb, but you don’t know what else to do other than stand there and wait for him to say something. You couldn’t believe he’d struck you like that — like a child! You’d only just met the duke today so for him to be putting his hands on you like that was beyond ridiculous, and completely inappropriate. But for as mad as you were, even for as much as your body trembles with frantic, clawing anger, you didn’t quite trust yourself to speak just yet … he would hear about it soon enough. In great detail and at even greater length, once you’d recovered enough to not need to worry your voice would crack and waver over your words. Very soon indeed. 

“I told you what was going to happen,” He says at last, perfectly calm and even toned as ever considering he’d just hit you. “Didn’t I, little miss?” 

Glaring daggers at him, you give your body a furious wrench against his hold but he keeps you in place easily enough. His hand was just so big it seemed to nearly encompass the total width of your bicep, allotting him the perfect hold on you that would only cause pain and discomfort if you were to truly struggle which left you with very little in the way of options. Grudgingly, you go still again and petulantly turn your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. You needed to focus on calming yourself before anything else. Acting rash now was only going to get you hurt. 

“I don’t know who you think you are,” You finally manage to hiss. “But you've got a lot of nerve to put your hands on me like this.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” He volleys right back, not missing a beat, and you irritably twitch when you realize he’s thrown your own words back at you. He’d be in for a rude awakening soon enough, if you had any say in the matter. 

“Enjoy your fun while you can, your grace. I was only bluffing earlier but now I think I really will go to The Steambird and tell them everything that’s transpired here today! What do you think about that, hm?” Impulsively, you whip your head back around to pin him with a biting look of challenge, but he just lifts his brows up at you as if in surprise. 

“I think you are indeed a mouthy little brat in need of a good spanking to correct that attitude of yours. What are you going to do at The Steambird then? Take your pants down to show them your red bottom and let them take pictures for the morning paper?” Clicking his tongue, Wriothesley shakes his head as if in disappointment. “You’re not thinking this through all the way, but I suspect that’s a problem you regularly struggle with. Come, let’s get you sorted out.” 

You suck in a horrified, raking breath when he shifts as if to move back towards his chair and quickly dig your heels into the ground to stop it. “W - wait! You can’t do this!” You wail, and a foolish pitter patter of hope skips across your chest when he actually pauses to look at you again. Maybe you could still talk your way out of this. It might cost you some of your pride, but that seemed a reasonable sacrifice given the situation. “Ah, what I meant to say is … I’m sorry?” 

A sudden, clipped bark of laughter bursts out of him. “No you’re not.” 

“I am, really! I’m very sorry for, um, stepping on your boot like that. I’ll have it cleaned and polished if you’d like. Just please let me go. Please?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

Wriothesley starts to pull you into motion again and you reel back against his hold even when it makes his thick, blocky fingers sink into the meat of your arm. “Wait! I promise I’m sorry, I really, really am! I didn’t mean it! I swear!”  

Breathing out a patient sigh through his nose, he gently (surprisingly so) tugs you around to stand in front of him even when you stumble and drag your feet in a blithe attempt to avoid compliance. “You’re only sorry right now because you’re in trouble. I’m going to give you something to think about and a chance to reflect on your actions, and then you’ll really be sorry. Is that clear enough for you, miss?” 

“You can’t do this …” 

“Oh, but I can. Take a look around you and tell me where you’re standing. This is my fortress which means I get to make the rules here. If I decide bratty girls who like to run their mouths even after being told to calm down — repeatedly, might I add — need a spanking to get them in order then that is exactly what’s going to happen. And do let me remind you that I gave you plenty of chances to heed my warnings but you didn’t. You can thank your own attitude for getting you into this predicament.” 

You try very hard to keep your expression in check but you’re pretty sure you fail rather miserably at it, and a flash of that vulnerable fear still manages to creep into your face. “I am not a child!” You insist, shuddering violently. “You can’t treat me like one! That’s not fair!” 

“Oh, I’d say what’s not fair is barging in here like you own the place and not listening to a word I say. You’ve certainly acted like a child so I think I’m perfectly in my right to treat you like one now.” 

Not giving you a chance to think of something else to say and further stall, Wriothesley suddenly swoops down and curls his arm around your thighs so he can yank you right up off your feet. You choke in surprise as much as at the sudden rush of movement, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it when he straightens up with you clutched across his front. Stinging hot tears flood your eyes all at once and you seethe, kicking and flailing, as he effortlessly carries you back around to the desk. It’s like you barely weigh anything in his arms which neither shudder or strain to hold you no matter how wildly you try to fight him. Even when he takes his seat again he still manages to much too easily manhandle you into place across his lap like you weren’t even struggling with every single ounce of strength you possessed. 

In shockingly quick order you find yourself spread across his legs, on your tummy, but still you hiss and twist until his hand abruptly strikes across your upturned ass again. You jump so hard you nearly collapse right then and there but the thick, burly arm now curled over your trembling body keeps you firmly in place when you lurch. Wheezing frantically, you try to push yourself upright but it’s no use, and his palm swats you over your pants again, rapidly draining you of the energy to keep up the effort any longer when it hurt so bad it seemed to rob you of the ability to even think straight. Mewling at the deep hurt, you jerk forward at the next strike and let out a pitiful, broken little sob. 

“I warned you to stop.” He reminds you again, falling into an easy steady rhythm. Whap, whap, whap, whap. One cheek and then the next, each hit somehow worse than the last as the burning sting grows and spreads across your defenseless backside. Even your desperate squirming was not enough to dissuade him from finding his mark as he peppers your sit spots in quick, agonizing succession. “I gave you so many chances too, but you just wouldn’t listen. Why is that, huh? Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?” 

“Please stop — oww! T - that hurts, you damn brute — oww!” 

“Keep it up and I’m just going to keep adding more. When you can’t sit right for the next week you’ll think back on this, I promise you that.” 

Clenching your teeth, you fiercely try to keep the tears at bay so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you cry but the intense, constant crack of his hand on your ass soon wins out and they start to track wet lines down your burning face. You sniffle sadly and weakly kick your legs out behind you, making an attempt to curl them up and shield your already sore behind, but he just roughly tugs you further across his lap. Abruptly finding yourself slipping forward to half dangle over the side of the chair, you gasp and mindlessly stiffen up across his lap to stop your balance from tipping. That quickly proves to be a mistake though when the tense way you’re now holding your body just seems to make it hurt even worse, and you plaintively shake your head with a wordless shriek. 

“Please stop it, your — ah! Your grace! I’m begging, I can’t — oww!” 

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you kept acting up.”

Whap, whap, whap, whap 

“Ow, ow, owowow, ow! You’re … you’re doing it too hard! Stop it!” 

Wriothesley chuckles somewhere far above you, the low timber of his voice blanketing over your muddied senses to make you shiver. “Actually, I don’t think I’m going hard enough yet. Not for the way you were behaving. Not to worry though, all in due time. This is just the warm up, after all.” 

You go stock still across his legs, your heart skipping a long, harrowing beat. A warm up - -

“Yeow! Sto - ah - ahhhp! Please!” 

Whap, whap, whap, whap 

Hanging your head low, you openly sob and kick at the air now, clutching his thick boot with one hand while the other hangs onto the chair leg in a death grip to somewhat steady yourself. The sharp stabs of pain seem to chip away at your consciousness bit by bit, each slap of his massive hand taking with it a little piece of you each time it recedes. You’re so dazed by the constant onslaught that you almost don’t notice when he abruptly pauses and grabs under your arms. 

Then you’re suddenly being hauled up and forced to stand on legs that immediately threaten to give out under you but Wriothesley just guides you around to stand between his legs. Furiously trying to wipe the evidence of tears from your face with a sleeve, you blearily watch as he brings his hands up to unbutton the front of your pants which he unceremoniously tugs down your legs to leave them bunched around your ankles. You can’t help but gasp, your cheeks burning even hotter at having your panties suddenly exposed to him, but you don’t get the chance to so much as suck in a shuddering breath let alone actually voice your protests. 

Just like that, he’s dragging you back down over his lap and you twist against his hold with renewed fervor, clawing viciously at any part of him you can reach. His palm mercilessly swatting you across the back of your underwear freezes you in place though, and you let out a high pitched, keening sound at this new level of hell he’s introduced you to. It’s so much worse without your slacks in the way and just the thin layer of cotton to protect you from the full brunt of his punishing slaps. You’re so caught up in trying to process the extent of it when he shifts over top of you that you don’t even think to shriek at him to stop — but then his unoccupied hand fists the material of your panties and yanks them up to pull firm against your screaming backside. You outright squawk and choke at the sensation only to realize what he’s doing a split second later when he swats your ass again and the hurt suddenly feels like it’s skin to skin. 

Howling in distress, you jerk and writhe against his legs but Wriothesley’s hold on your underwear effectively stops you from crawling away. You simply can’t escape it and the space between your ears is soon once again filled with the sharp swat! of his hand lighting you up. It was easily the worst thing you’d ever experienced, even putting aside the inherent humiliation of being spanked over his knee with your pants around your ankles. 

“Waaa - aahhaaaaaa! Your grace, I - I’m sorry … owwww!” 

“Are you now?” He murmurs, punctuating the soft tone of his voice with two blistering slaps, one to each cheek to leave you withering in his hold. “And what are you sorry for, little miss? Come on, speak up.” 

That was incredibly difficult to do when he wasn’t letting up on your ass for even a moment but, hoping against hope that placating him might make this end quicker, you suck in a haggard, gasping breath to steady yourself. “I’m sorry for - eek! I’m sorry for all the rude things I said to you earlier! Oww! I - I shouldn’t have come in here and - ahh! Ahh! I shouldn’t have disrespected you in your fortress, your grace! I promise I’m sorry!” 

“And what else?” 

What else? What else even was there! 

You desperately try to think, to figure it out, but your head is swimming so fast you start to think you might pass out. Loosing a broken moan, you agonizingly kick back and try to find purchase on the floor, only succeeding in half sliding off his knee. He easily readjusts his hold and rather meanly pulls harder on your panties though, making you squeal when they dig into your cunt and it essentially forces you to straighten your legs instead of slouching away from the continuous barrage of his hand. You choke on some kind of mindless animal sound and try to shove yourself forward in your desperation but he just spanks you even harder for the trouble. 

“Well? I’m waiting.” 

“I don’t know!” You cry out, dancing on the tips of your toes as if that would somehow alleviate some of the deep, throbbing ache encompassing your rear end. “I don’t know your grace, I don’t know but I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

You just barely manage to catch the sound of him clicking his tongue over your wailing. “How can you be sorry for something if you don’t even know what it is? You’re really not taking this seriously, are you?”

“I am!” 

He stops so abruptly you lurch, gasping, as if he’d followed through on delivering the next blow. Shuddering uncontrollably, you warily twist to look over your shoulder with big, wet eyes to watch him fold your panties down over your ass to join your slacks around your ankles. Realizing what he’s doing your fight or flight instincts seem to kick in like never before, and you hysterically wrench against his hold. To your stumbling surprise you actually manage to slip free for a split second, for the span of but a single heartbeat, and then he’s reaching up before you can get your trembling legs to cooperate and he roughly tucks you down across his thigh again. This time with that heavy, corded steel arm locked around your waist. 

“Wait, wait, wait - -“ 

Smack! 

Your ass promptly erupts in splinters, every single nerve ending in your behind vibrating numbly at the impact. It punches the air right out of your lungs, leaves you gasping for even a sliver of air, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully process the hurt. Smack, smack, smack, smack! The crack of his hand across your bare skin sounds deafening now and you shake uncontrollably as you cry out in unrestrained agony. Back and forth between each burning red, swollen cheek, he pays equal attention to both sides until it feels like the tingling flesh is quite literally on fire. You writhe against the blinding hurt and sob so hard the shudders wrack through you from head to toe even as you weakly try to push up and squeeze through his arm. It’s no use though. Wriothesley’s hold is as good as iron and all you can do is wrench at each blistering crack without any way to escape it. 

“Well?” He expectantly prompts, but you’re a little too far gone in the swimming daze to properly respond now, just noising a series of incomprehensible whines and mewls with every strike. Quickly picking up that you were slipping under now, he breathes out a stilted sigh. “If there is but one thing you take away from this,” He intones, still bringing his palm down again and again, and again. “Let it be to pick your opponents more wisely in the future. You don’t just get to walk in here and start calling the shots, do you understand me?” 

You croak out something that might be a yes, incomprehensibly slurred between all the tears and snot running down your face, and the sad little hiccups making your throat constrict. That seems to be good enough for him though, and he just presses on. 

“I was nice enough to invite you to come to Meropide,” smack, smack, smack, smack “Even though I could have turned you down right from the start. I already knew your little pet project wasn’t going to pan out,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I figured I’d at least hear you out first and this is how you decided to repay me? Despite what you probably think, I don’t like having to punish people,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I’m not about to let some upstart little brat come in here and try to tell me what my inmates need. You don’t know the first thing about this place no matter what all your worthless charts tell you.” 

Smack, smack, smack! Smack! 

You flinch, weakly rocking forward when the next slap never comes. Groaning thickly, you squirm and dance on your feet, trying to shake off some of the discomfort even though it’s useless, but still he just sits there. You’re distantly aware of him breathing a bit heavier than before, either worked up from the act itself or the physical exertion of delivering a sound spanking, and you just whine low in your throat at the resounding throb throughout your body. It seems to claw through you and set every single nerve to trembling vibration, leaving you quaking violently in his hold. 

Finally, what feels like an eternity later, Wriothesley draws a steadying inhale. “Have you learned your lesson?” 

“Y - yes …” You croak out with no shortage of effort, but his blocky fingers just dig into your hip to give you a brief jostle

“Wanna’ try that again?” 

Your already strained heartbeat somehow manages to become even more wild at the panic that rushes in to smother over you. What did he want? Would he spank you again if you didn’t figure out the answer? 

“Yes, sir?” 

“That’s better.” He relents, giving your shuddering thigh an amicable pat. Silence descends over the office for a drawn out beat and then he suddenly leans forward, half dragging you with him while he opens one of the drawers on the desk to rummage around. “I don’t think you’re really sorry, not yet. But you will be soon. I know I have that damn hairbrush Sigewinne gave me somewhere.” 

A hairbrush? 

Your blood turns to ice at the implication, and the fresh wave of fear that abruptly grips you in a chokehold seems to clear some of the fog from your head. You could think just a little bit clearer now and you did not like where your thoughts were going, not one bit. Surely he wouldn’t actually take it that far after already abusing your ass so much with his hand. 

“Your g - grace?”  

Ignoring or just not hearing the weak little mouse squeak, Wriothesley settles back into his chair again, grabbing a pinching handful of your inner thigh to drag it over his knee once more. He doesn’t quite force your body across his lap but he does make sure you’re stretched out in a rather inelegant sprawl that leaves your legs embarrassingly spread and you start to shake in earnest now. You hadn’t thought it was possible for the human body to vibrate at such a high frequency but that's exactly what seems to be happening as the crushing reality of the situation gradually settles over you like a shroud. 

And then, the press of something solid and flat touches your burning ass, and you practically jolt right up off his legs altogether. 

Your skin crawls with it making you feel truly sick and nauseous even as you frantically try to twist your neck around to see. He’s got you at such an awkward angle though that you can’t make out much of anything and your panic rapidly starts to ratchet up into damn near a full on attack until he gently taps the object against your behind to pull your attention back into the moment. 

“I’m going to give you twenty spanks with this brush, little miss. I want you to count them, and don’t forget to show me some respect while you do it.” 

“I - I - I can’t, sir, I can’t, I can’t take anymore, p - please, it’s too much - -“

“Hush. I’ve got you,” He coos, unexpectedly gentle and soft, but it doesn’t do much to ease your heaving gasps or the erratic pounding of your heart. Still, you find yourself grudgingly getting pulled into that tender croon and you make a conscious effort to calm down even as you sway unsteadily over his thigh. “You’re alright. You’ll just get yourself all worked up over nothing acting like that. Deep breaths. That’s it. Now take another for me. Good girl. See? You can listen when you want to. It’s not so bad, is it?” 

He offers the pudge around your hip a reassuring, possibly even approving squeeze when your breathing starts to slow to a normal, wheezing pant rather than the thin lungfulls you’d been sucking in just moments ago. You decidedly disliked him a great deal, perhaps more so than you’d ever disliked any one single person in all your life, but you were at least glad he was able to keep you grounded. Never mind the fact he was the cause of it to begin with, you were just thankful it didn’t feel like you were going throw up and pass out anymore. 

And still the throbbing burn across your ass keeps pulling tiny little whimpers from your dry throat. It really was too much. 

“Is it necessary?” You finally manage to rattle out. 

“The brush? In my eyes it is, yes. This will show me whether or not you’ve been paying attention this whole time, if you can be respectful towards me throughout this last leg even though you’ll probably want to curse me to high heaven and back. If you can tell me you’re really sorry when we’re done then it will be over. Does that sound agreeable to you?” 

Groaning in defeat, you hang your head low and just take a moment to think. Your options were regretfully limited but … you wanted to trust him at his word and, more importantly, you just wanted to have it done and over with already. The pain crawling across your backside was immeasurable, gradually receding to a dull, distant, but no less teeth clattering ache that reminded you it was there with every thrumming pulse, and he was right to say you wanted to curse him for it. You would have given anything to do just that but Wriothesley had made it clear what he expected of you. Obedience, compliance, respect. 

Perhaps you should have expected no less from the reclusive Duke of Meropide but you certainly would not be making this mistake again. 

“Yes, sir.” You whisper into the stillness at last, a sort of numb surprise curling over you at the lack of bite in your own voice. You’d expected to hear bitter tears, anger, defensive pride, not … such a soft, almost shaky little note of submission. 

The very idea that his unjust treatment of you had somehow accomplished exactly what it was meant to chills you almost as much as it brings you a strange sense of comfort which he only further enforces by warmly caressing his unoccupied palm over the curve of your bare waist. 

“Good. Then let’s get started.” 

An expectant pause and then — whap! 

You violently lurch, dizzy and disoriented from the sudden intensity of the impact. It was so different from his hand, so hard and unforgiving that it made your stomach feel like it was about to burst right up out of your throat. Reeling and weakly gasping in the aftermath, you futilely arch against the sting, kicking your legs out, but there’s no escaping it or shaking it off. The pain seems to engulf you all at once, making you choke on a haggard, gutted little sound. Like you couldn’t even scream around it and only whimper in breathless, mind numbing agony. 

“O - one, sir.” You finally manage to rattle out to his humming satisfaction. 

Whap! On the other sore cheek. 

“Oh! Oh, oh, oooohhhh, n - nnghhnhn!! Two, sir …” 

Whap! Back to the first. Whap! The second again. 

You can’t quite formulate the words now, just laying there spread out on Wriothesley’s lap while your legs uncontrollably shake and you suck in quick, faltering thin gasps of air in an attempt to reorient yourself. It was like the sharp, oppressively heavy stroke of the wooden brush was knocking your brain around and making it hard just to remember how to breathe. Sniffling back a rush of fresh tears, however, you force your mind to stay focused in the here and now rather than drifting off to some faraway place where you currently weren’t getting your ass beat. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Why he was making you count like this, to keep you firmly planted and present to ensure your attention didn’t start to slip at the first chance and you remained attentive for this final part of your trial. The sadistic bastard. 

“Four, sir …” 

Whap! Whap! 

“O - oooh, gods … s - six, sir.” 

Whap! Whap! 

You have to take a moment to collect yourself, to breathe through the sickening pain that encompasses your backside, and he waits patiently until you eventually lift your head again. “Eight, sir.” 

Whap! 

“Eeekk! Ahh, ah … nine — ahhn, sir!” 

Dazed and more than just a little lost in the hazy delirium swimming around your head, you slowly start to find and grasp at a tiny fraction of your inner strength. Your voice comes quicker, albeit thinner, as you hold your breath tightly over the course of the next few swats of the brush, finally seeing an end in sight just over the horizon. A few more and then you would be done. You could leave this place and never see the duke again for as long as you lived. 

“Fifteen, sir!” You hear yourself blurt out, nearly sobbing in relief only to choke on it when the next swing cracks down on the opposite cheek a second later. Seething viciously, you shake for a moment before gritting out the next number. And the next. 

You’re practically hysterical when you finally get to nineteen, all but blubbering across his lap, but you take the last strike like a champ, squealing a cursory, “Twenty, sir!” And then immediately giving in to the urge to dance on your toes, trying in vain to chase away some of the skin crawling ache by moving around. He leans back into the chair, just giving you a moment to process it on your own terms, before eventually loosening his arm around your middle so he can help you up. You move gingerly and wheeze through the process of getting your jelly filled legs underneath you but, at last, you find yourself standing between the wide spread of his knees and you cautiously reach back to rub your sore bottom. 

You regret it immediately, hissing at the intense heat coming off the abused skin as much as the stabs of pain just brushing your fingertips against the tender area causes. But before you can truly process the full brunt of it, he takes your wrist in hand and tugs it away from your behind so he can hold it between the two of you instead. 

“You’re welcome to try but it isn’t going to do much to take away any of the pain. You’ll have that reminder in the back of your mind for the next few days, any time you sit or your clothes rub against it.” A pause while he studies you with that frustratingly impassive expression, taking in your wet face, the clumps of your eyelashes where they’re sticking together, the distant look in your eyes. He takes it all in and then offers you a small, brief smile. “Are you sorry now?” 

You almost choose petulant silence but, not wanting to tempt fate any further, you slowly nod your head. “Yes, sir. I’m very sorry for how I acted towards you today, and for not listening when you told me to stop. I won’t do it again.” 

“Good girl.” Giving your fingers a quick squeeze, he reaches down to take hold of your hips in both of his massive hands and carefully guide you back a step so he can rise to his feet as well. “Alright, go stand in the corner. Face the wall and keep your cute bottom uncovered.”

Immediately planting your feet into the floor when he tries to nudge you in the general direction of the wall, you send him a flustered look of warning. “You said that would be the end of it.” 

“It was, and you did so well for someone whom I suspect hasn’t been spanked nearly enough in her lifetime. But,” Wriothesley quickly holds up a hand to stop you when you draw a sharp, scathing breath to snap at him with. “It’s usually customary to give you a chance to further reflect on your punishment while the sting settles the rest of the way in. Besides, I need to run down to the infirmary to get a cream for your butt and you can’t very well sit down right now, can you?”

“You are infuriating!” You practically spit at him, fists clenching with the urge to reach out and punch him square in the solar plexus. “What exactly do you think this is, your grace? A fun little afternoon we’ve shared together over tea and gossip? I don’t want your stupid cream! I want to leave this place and never be forced to look upon you ever again, do you hear me?” 

“Oh, I hear you loud and clear.” Wriothesley murmurs with an accompanying quirk of his brow to go along with it. “Gotta’ say though, I wasn’t expecting you to bounce right back to your earlier attitude so fast. Usually brats like you need a bit more time to recoup some of their charge after getting it all out of their system like that.”

You reel back in abject shock. “Brats like me? You have some nerve acting like I’m the problem when you just - -“ 

He reaches up quicker than you can react and abruptly pulls you into the front of him, one hand lifting to cradle your head against the firm, muscular wall of his body while the other curls around your back so you can’t escape. Your skin positively crawls at the contact, lips pulling back in a vicious snarl, but then … he just gently rocks you back and forth, softly petting your hair while he does it, and you go stock still in your surprise. You didn’t understand it. What he was doing or why he was doing it, and you understood even less why it almost made you feel a bit — funny inside. Tingly, almost. 

“There, there,” Wriothesley murmurs, just holding you tightly enough to prevent escape but still soft enough not to smother. “Is this what you need instead? I didn’t take you for the sort but I have no problem giving it to you as long as it gets rid of that grumpy frown for a little while. You’re way cuter when you don’t look so damn mad …” 

You stand there for a long beat unsure of how to react. Knowing you should kick up a fit, fight him tooth and nail, drag his name through the mud for how he’s treated you here today and yet — somehow the heat of his body, the heady scent of his muted cologne seems to drain the fight from your body. It leaves you feeling empty and hollow, and a sudden rush of emotions quickly floods in to replace it all. You don’t really understand it, nor are you entirely sure you want to, but you were a little too tired to keep up the pretense any longer. Not while there was a veritable storm whipping up inside your chest.

Eyes watering with a new, inexplicable sheen of tears, you slowly bring your hands up to clutch at his waistcoat. Maybe it would be okay if you entertained this for just another moment longer … maybe you could attack him when his guard was down after you’d finished fighting back the sobs suddenly threatening to wrack through your body. He’d chipped away at you, wiped the slate clean, so to speak, and now he was filling you back up with a comforting warmth you wouldn’t have expected from him given his icy demeanor. 

You still weren’t particularly fond of his methods but at least there was some amount of peace to be found in his embrace, and you may or may not have liked it just a teeny tiny bit. Not that you’d ever admit that to Wriothesley, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You could certainly keep the secret.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[avatar-anna]

Hiii can you please write a blurb where its hockey player h getting jealous? It can be at a party or maybe at one of figure skater y/ns competitions?

i did that thing where i took an ask in a different direction, so if this was your request, message me and i'll do an actual jealous fic! i apologize, i was feeling angsty, protective boyfriendrry🤭🤭

trigger warnings: light depictions of sa, coping with sa

i don't pretend to know what it's like to be a victim/survivor or sexual assault, so if there is something that you may find offensive or unrealistic or glorified, please know that was not my intention. feel free to message me if you take issue with this fic, and i'll take it down.

all the love💕💕

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

You were quick to shake your head, stepping away from the guy you'd been talking to. It was just a conversation, nothing more, one you didn't even really want to be having in the first place. But the guy had cornered you in the fraternity's kitchen, and you were looking for a polite way out.

"Uh...no. I'm actually here with my boyfriend," you said.

You hoped that would be the end of it, but instead of backing off he stepped closer. "You don't have to play hard to get, Y/n. I'm already into you, so come on."

Dread started to fill your belly. Peeking over the guy's shoulder, you saw that you were the only ones in the kitchen, and with the loud music playing throughout the house, no one would hear you if you needed to call for help. You hoped you wouldn't need to, but it was all you could think about as he leaned in.

"No," you said, trying to sound firm despite your trembling voice. "I said no, so if you'll excuse me—Get off m—!"

His hand was on your wrists and pushed you roughly into the wall hard enough to hurt. While you were still in a daze from being shoved, he made his move. His mouth, which was not at all like Harry's, was on yours before you could say anything. The guy tasted like stale beer, and his tongue kept trying to push past your tightly closed lips. Your skin crawled every place he touched—under your shirt and skirt, the inside of your thigh—and every time he whispered in your ear and his breath unfurled across your neck. You wanted to call out or push him off but you couldn't. You never thought you would be in this position, and now you were, and you just...froze.

When his lips moved to your neck, you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping if you stayed still enough your mind might drift elsewhere. "Please," you whimpered one last time, willing yourself to push back, but you couldn't make yourself move.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Harry's voice, that was Harry's voice. For a moment, you thought his angry tone was pointed at you, that he thought he'd caught you cheating.

"Nothing, man, leave us alone. We're—"

Things were a blur after that, but all you knew was the guy wasn't on you anymore and you felt exposed. The skirt you had carefully tucked into your skirt at the start of the evening was rucked up, the neckline pulled down. You kept your eyes closed, tears slipping out as you listened to the sound of a fight, of someone getting shoved against a wall and plates or cups crashing and fists connecting with skin. You didn't want to cry, you felt stupid for crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"Harry, please."

"Shut up!"

Your eyes stayed squeezed shut, but you could hear the altercation coming to an end as more people came into the kitchen, most likely pulling Harry and the other guy apart. Feeling someone crowd your space again, you tensed and shook your head, completely terrified.

"Hey, it's just me. It's just me, love. Can you open your eyes for me?" Harry said, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, more tears spilling out. "I promise I didn't—"

"None of that, baby. I know what happened. You don't have to explain," he said. Harry reached out to gently push a strand of hair out of your face, but you flinched. "Sorry. I—Should I get Kate? She's here somewhere. I'll—Let me text her."

Kate came in minutes, and she quickly ushered you out of the party and into her car. Everything felt like white noise, and you were seeing without really seeing. You knew Harry was there and keeping his distance, but you just wanted to go home, be alone. So Kate drove you, got you into bed and slept on the couch in the living room, making sure to lock the door when you started to cry and hyperventilate because she'd forgotten.

The next morning you felt marginally better, but not great, and the day after that was more of the same. On the third day, you felt comfortable enough to get out of bed, to shower and scrub at your skin until it was rubbed raw. You were shaken up, but you felt like you were back in your body again. That night you did everything in your power to not be where you were mentally. A few days later, you were more aware once again, not so scared or skittish, but that only meant the memories and the feelings you were keeping at bay returned in full force.

"Harry's at the door. Wants to check in," Kate said, poking your head into your room. You'd been up for a couple hours, watching TV on your laptop after you finally stepped out of the shower, but you hadn't come out of your room yet, hadn't said a word to anyone. Hadn't spoken to Harry since the party. "He's been coming here for the last three days, and I've been holding him off, but—He's worried about you."

You knew he was worried. He called and texted until your phone died, and then he resorted to emails. Harry hardly even checked his email unless he had to message a professor about a late assignment, but he'd been emailing you relentlessly when you didn't answer your phone.

"Did he...hit that guy?" you asked, recalling bits and pieces from that night.

"Did a little more than just hit him, but well-deserved in my opinion," Kate muttered. "Was like one of those brawls he gets into on the ice at games except he had a good center of gravity. That piece of shit didn't stand a chance."

You didn't know how to feel about that. You were well aware that Harry got into fights at his hockey games, you always rolled your eyes when he got sent to the penalty box after shoving a player into plexiglass or taking a swing when she should've skated back to his position. And he was the jealous type, you were well aware of that. Sometimes Harry would glare or kiss your neck when he thought guys stared too long. He was protective and jealous, but a sweetheart on the inside, and part of you liked how strongly he felt for you and that he wasn't afraid to show it. Now...you didn't know how to feel.

"He...He can come in."

Kate nodded and left your room. A minute later, she was back with Harry. He had a split lip and dark bags under his eyes, but other than that, he looked fine. Kate was right, Harry seemed to take care of that guy without much trouble.

"Hi," he said, stepping inside your bedroom. Kate closed the door once he did, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hi."

"How—How are you?" he asked then frowned. "That was a stupid question. Sorry, I—"

"I'm okay. Not okay, but better, I guess."

"Good. That's—That's good. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep."

Harry's hands were tucked into his back pockets as he leaned back and forth on his heels, his eyes struggling to pick something to focus on. He was nervous, you realized.

"You can sit down," you said, bringing your knees up to your chest so he could have space to sit on your bed.

"Right thanks."

He approached the bed, sitting down on the very edge. His hands stayed in his lap, foot tapping rapidly. Your eyes narrowed, a hand reaching out to take one of his hands in yours before you could think much of it. Harry's knuckles were cut up, reddish-purple bruises covering his skin. Ever so gently, you ran a finger over the bruises.

"It looks worse than it feels," he said, probably lying. "I know how you feel about fighting, but I couldn't let him get away with that. He—I saw red, and—Sorry, we don't need to talk about me."

"I didn't think anyone would come," you said. "We were just talking, and then all of a sudden we were alone and the music was so loud. I—I didn't think anyone would've heard me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I went to the bathroom and went looking for you, I—I should've—"

"I don't blame you for not being there," you said. "You were there. I was just so scared, and I—I froze, I couldn't move, and I was so—"

"Hey, it's okay," he said. Harry tried to reach for you, but you pulled back. "I'm sorry I don't want to make you uncomfortable by touching you. I can go—"

"I have bruises on my wrists," you said, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over your hands. "And I don't want to feel ashamed, and I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but—but I do. I feel ashamed of what happened."

When you began to sniffle, Harry looked like he wanted to come closer, but he stayed put. "Can I?"

You gave him a small nod, and he gently took your left wrist in his hands. His touch was so delicate, you didn't even think he was capable of being that gentle. Harry pushed your sweatshirt back, and you quickly turned your head to the side, not wanting to see the bruised fingerprints on your wrists. You felt his thumb brush over the skin, and when your skin began to crawl, your shoulders tensed, and his thumb stopped.

"I went to the school board," he said. "The dean, or whatever. I told them what happened. I—I didn't mention your name, but I told them what happened so that...he could get expelled or reprimanded or something."

Your head had been resting on your knees, but at that, you looked at him. "You did?"

"Yeah, I—I'm sorry if I overstepped, but I couldn't just let him get away with it," he said.

You didn't know what to say. You'd been officially dating for a few weeks now, a little over a month, and things were still new, still fresh. But you liked this new relationship, and you didn't want what happened at the party to get in the way of something so good with Harry.

"I don't feel great, and I may have taken like a hundred showers since, but I think I just want...I think I could use a hug."

"I love hugs," Harry said, a small smile on his face.

You pushed the corner of your bedspread back to let him in, and Harry was quick to kick off his shoes and join you. His body was warm, the smell of his clothes perfect, his cheek against yours perfect. He was perfect. You felt comfortable in your own skin again with him next to you.

"And I could use a movie buddy," you said, opening your laptop again, firing up a rom-com.

"You've been pestering me to watch this with you," he mumbled against your temple. "But I'll watch anything if it means I get to hold you like this."

You blushed and squeezed his hand tight. Harry hissed a little, which made you mumble an apology before gently kissing his knuckles.

"I do hate when you fight," you mumbled, opening up your laptop again. "But this time it was deserved. If I have bruises, so should he. And I'm—I'm glad you told someone. Thank you."

"I wish I had been there," he said quietly, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist gently. "I should have been there."

You knew both of you could go around in circles about hypotheticals about that night, but it would be no use. Something horrible happened, and you wouldn't forget it, and neither would he. But the bruises would fade soon, and Harry was there for you, and so was Kate, and you would be okay. When he kissed your wrist, your shoulders tensed, but your skin didn't crawl, and when he rested his arm on your waist, you felt safe, not trapped, and when he asked if you wanted to get dinner when the credits of the movie rolled, you found yourself saying yes.

"This might be everything that happened and my emotions might be all over the place, so take this with a grain of salt. In the nicest way," you said. "But I think I might be in love with you."

Harry chuckled and helped you out of bed, waiting by the door as you slipped into a pair of sneakers. You didn't bother changing out of your sweats, even though you had to hike up the sweatpants you were wearing every few seconds because they were Harry's. Both of you were more than familiar with walking around in comfy clothes after practice or a training session. You were probably headed to McDonald's and back to your apartment for another movie anyway.

"Then I'll wait to tell you I'm in love with you in a month when we're on a proper date. Until then, shall we?"

"I don't want to feel like this."

"I know."

"I shouldn't feel like this," you said, pulling Harry's covers up to your chest.

"You're allowed to have all the feelings you want, Y/n," Harry said softly, careful to keep his distance on the narrow bed. "We can wait. I don't mind just laying next to you."

"Yeah?" you asked, getting teary eyed for an entirely different reason.

"However long it takes."

You sniffled and reached for his hand, which he took. "Sorry about the uh... unfinished business."

"That? Can't even feel it," he said.

"Liar," you said, laughing a little. "But it makes you a reeeaaly good boyfriend."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "And it'll be reeeaaly worth the wait."

You laughed even louder, even fuller, this time, flicking him on the nose. "Pig."

Harry teased and joked with you, but on the inside, he felt relief. You'd come out of your room and gone back to class the last couple weeks, but you weren't quite yourself. You stayed covered up from head to toe, you stayed home on the weekends, and your heart wasn't in your training. You went and you were brilliant, but Harry could tell. He'd watched you enough to know if your heart was in it, and it wasn't.

So he learned when to be a shoulder to cry on and when to make jokes to make you laugh and when to put on your favorite movie. Harry had never been in this position before, he never thought he would ever be in this position before. But he didn't imagine you did either, so he tried his best.

He wasn't worried, though. You were in therapy and going to class and getting good grades and you didn't flinch anymore when people tried to touch you. Friends, anyway, sometimes strangers startled you. Progress was progress, though. Some areas were better than others, though. Since the party, you and Harry hadn't had sex, hadn't even kissed on the lips. You held hands and Harry kissed your head and cuddled on the couch or a bed, but it didn't go much further than that. And you were fully clothed each time.

But he was more than willing to wait. Harry knew taking time was important and he hadn't put pressure on you to do anything. It was you who wanted to do more tonight. You thought you were ready, you insisted that you were ready, but when Harry tried to take your top off, you pushed him away, feeling sick to your stomach.

"You'll get there. We'll get there," Harry promised, going over to his dresser to get a shirt. He tossed it to you, wanting you to be as comfortable in a t-shirt instead of the top you'd worn out tonight. He grabbed one for himself and was halfway into it when you stopped him.

"Could you maybe just—"

"What?" He asked, coming over to the bed where you were still covered up.

"It's stupid," you said.

"I can promise you it's not."

Blowing out a large sigh, you looked at him. "Could you maybe just not wear a shirt?"

"Of course," Harry said immediately. He shrugged out of the one he just put on and slid into bed next to you. "Not stupid at all."

"I just want...to feel you, but I don't want—"

"To do anything more. I understand."

So Harry let you position him just how you wanted on his bed, making sure not to accidentally lean or lay on your hair. Your hands were feather-light on him, like you were barely touching him at all.

Sometimes, late at night when you were fast asleep, Harry would feel inexplicably angry. Not at you, never at you. At that guy for hurting you the way he did, for violating you in a way that was still affecting you when he probably hadn't thought about it since. Harry could tell you looked for him when you were on campus together. Your eyes flitted to each face that passed you by, squeezing Harry's hand when you saw similar hair or frame. You were terrified to see him again, and seeing the panicked look on your face when you thought you did enraged Harry even more.

But there wasn't much he could do except wait. Wait for you to heal, wait for the storm to pass, wait to kiss you again. All of it was worth it, you were worth it, but sometimes he thought there was something he could've done to prevent all of this.

"You can stop beating yourself up, you know," you said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Don't think I don't know that look, Harry," you said, leaning up on your elbow to look at him. "I have never blamed you for what happened."

"I just wish I could help," he said, feeling his shoulders release tension they'd been holding since that night.

"You are. I don't know how to explain it, but I promise you are," you said, and that relaxed something in Harry too.

He was about to put on another movie when an idea came to him. "Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. I have an idea," he said, slipping back into his t-shirt and a hoodie.

Curious, you followed his lead, putting on shoes and letting him lead you to your car. "The rink," he said quietly, and even though you knew it was closed for the night, you went anyway. Harry didn't say anything, but you weren't really up for conversation anyway. You felt bad that you'd become a burden to Harry, that instead of a girlfriend he got...you. You wanted to be okay again, you wanted him to kiss you and feel you, you wanted to do more than just fall asleep next to him. But you just couldn't get his touch out of your head. You felt dirty and overexposed, and you weren't sure if you'd ever not feel that way again. You weren't sure if you should be selfish and keep Harry shackled to you while you found out.

"Come on," he said when you parked in the empty lot. It was almost midnight, which meant there were no more practices, no more games or private training sessions. It was just you and Harry.

He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, taking you by surprise when one slid into the lock with ease. The front door to the rink opened, cold air immediately hitting you as you stepped inside.

"Why do you have keys to the rink?"

"Being captain of the hockey team has its perks," Harry said with a shrug. "Come on, I want to show you something."

You followed him back to the boy's locker rooms, and past that to where the rink stored the equipment they rented out to local teams or families who wanted to start training their kids but didn't know what to buy yet. Harry grabbed a hockey stick, not quite as big as the one he used, and then a bigger one, and a few pucks.

"Do you have spare skates in your locker?"

"Of course."

"They'll do. We're not gonna actually play," he said, but he wasn't looking at you as he pulled out small nets from the back of the storage room.

When he had everything, he told you to grab yours and his skates while he set up the rink, not giving you a chance to respond. You did as he asked, using the combination he gave you before leaving the locker room to cross over to the girl's. Your spares were old, and the blades could've used a tune up, but they were comfortable and would hopefully work for whatever Harry had planned.

You quickly got into your skates and got on the ice, handing Harry's over once you reached him. "I think you need to get angry, and I think you need a way to just let it all out," he said as he laced up his own skates, which were much clunkier than yours. "So I'm gonna teach you how to shoot, and we'll go from there, okay?"

"Harry, I don't think—"

"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking at you like he wasn't actually sure if you did.

"Yes," you said almost immediately.

"Then let me help you do this."

So you did.

Harry showed you the basics of shooting a hockey puck at the net. He made it look so easy, so effortless, but when it was your turn, you hardly made the puck move. But Harry was patient, quietly telling you what you did wrong and helping you adjust your stance. Eventually, you got the hang of it, and when you hit the first puck with force, you didn't stop.

Harry had been right, you needed an outlet for everything you were feeling, and each swing of the hockey stick had you feeling more than just uncomfortable in your own skin or scared or sorry for yourself. You were furious that this happened to you, that you couldn't do anything to stop it, that this person left you feeling weak and broken. All of that anger went into your movements, and everything else fell away, including Harry, who hadn't said a word since you got the hang of it.

You didn't know how long you stayed on the rink, all you knew was the stick in your hand and the ice beneath your skates. It wasn't until Harry tapped you on the shoulder that you finally stopped. Your cheeks felt flushed and you were breathing heavily, but you felt good, and you hadn't felt good since that night.

"Your arms are gonna be sore tomorrow," Harry explained, taking the hockey stick before skating around to gather up the other equipment. When he made his way back to you, you were still huffing and puffing. Gently, Harry reached out and brushed a thumb across your cheek, then the other. You didn't even realize you'd been crying. "How do you feel?"

"Different," you said. "Like I could sleep forever."

Grinning, Harry said, "Then let's get you back."

Harry had been right, your arms were already starting to feel like jello. You were worn out, but in a good way. You and Harry walked back to the car in silence, though when you looked over at him, he had a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just the way you were hitting the puck," he said, shaking his head, curls falling into his eyes. He hadn't gotten a haircut recently, and now his hair curled past his ears and touched the collar of his shirt.

"What? Do I play like a girl?" you teased.

"No, but, like, you're really graceful about it. It's not a bad thing, just different."

"Well, maybe I could teach you a thing or two about grace," you said, leaning into his side. The rest of the walk to the car was quiet, like both of you were stuck in your own heads. But when you started the car to go back to his place, you said, "Thank you. You've been...more patient than other people might've been, I think."

"You don't have to thank me for being a good friend," Harry said. "You would've done the same for me."

He was right. If something traumatic happened to him, you would've been bending over backwards to help him. Somewhere down the line, you cared enough about him that you would be devastated if he was hurt in any way. It would've hurt you to see him hurt.

"When I'm ready...you're in for a treat," you said, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't want to feel like you were shrouded by a dark cloud anymore. "

Almost like he knew what you were trying to do, Harry played along. "Oh yeah? What can I expect?"

"That would ruin the surprise."

You saw Harry shake his head in your periphery, but it was an amused shake.

This felt right, the teasing and flirting. It felt normal. You weren't one hundred percent okay, but for the first time since that night, you believed that you would be, and Harry knew it too.

[cursingtoji]

🎙️ just saw your post asking about blog recs…step up to the stage bc i need some!!!!

BLOGS RECOMMENDATION <3

— mostly jjk, but also chainsaw man and aot

*taping the mic* okay here are my nominees with some fics recomendations as well

disclaimers!

lemme start saying so plot is everything to me, pwp can be hot but i'll hardly remember it afterwards, that being said here's some writers that can do both great plots and hot scenes.

also while digging i realize i wasn’t following some of those and if you noticed im sorry im dumb but i truly love your writing.

i tried to tag every active blog i could remember but it’s possible i forgot a few since i’ve been reading more jjk recently. if i forgot you im so sorry please don’t take offense.

many blogs i loved were deactivated, rest in piece great works they had.

everything i read i reblog under the tag #recs

@thekillingmoonmoon ofc moon is the first one i think when the topic "best writers" come up, i freaking love her and everything she does its not even fair to pick one thing so im picking 3, this super passionate toji work that i re-read at an alarming frequency (which btw i consider my own personal gift). yakuza choso and yuki aka the hottest duo ever. the cherry on top is her kishibe series (just realized i gotta catch up on)

@rinhaler - luxe is def on my top 3, she comes up with very organic scenes. even if it's a simple plot she can develop it so originally. I recently read her underground fighter!sukuna and i'm still thinking about it.

@laudthingcat has the best headcanons in the jjk fandom hands down, it’s the perfect dose of hot funny and cute, pick anything from her masterlist it’s guaranteed you’ll have a good time reading it. when you moan their name in your sleep in particular gives me butterflies

@meownotgood is obviously the best aki writer out there, you can see the love for aki in their words and how they write him so well and so into character. arrival in tokyo is truly a masterpiece, they also have a +100k words series i've been wanting to read for a while but i want to rewatch chainsaw man first hehe, i'm 100% sure is fire tho.

@kentoangel roma writes choso like she's in love with him and you can tell. shes always on my for you and even her snippets are *chefs kiss* special kudos to stepbrother!choso

@kentopedia i just realized i'm assigning a writer per character and nanami is definitely rylie's. the domestic lovely way she writes him makes me forget canon.

@tojisun another blog that is very often on my for you page. cannot talk about toji fics without bringing up sun, everything she writes about him has me furiously nodding. not to mention simon and konig, just talking about them makes me wanna run to her blog and binge read everything

@chocochipsushi 's bodyguard toji is unforgetable to me, i wish i lost my memory so i could read it all again for the first time. bodyguard toji is the definition of living rent free in my mind, whenever i have to deal with annoying coworkers i immediately think “bodyguard toji would not allow them to talk to me like that”

@suget one of the greatest geto writers for sure, they have so many geto works, i was going through their blog to find the one i read more recently and there was so many others i haven’t seen! another writer i could very easily spend a whole day binge reading. btw this cult leader one was recommended to me and i fell in love with it <3

@staryukis has the cutest gojo drabbles

@tonycries brooklin baby was recommended to me by moon and it had me by the neck! also they have many other works im hoping to read soon as well

@mommypieck isayama created reiner but they created subby reiner

@titan-fodder ‘s the tinniest notion The Best Reiner fic in all the existence of the universe (tw: stepcest kinda?)

@nanaslutt mma!toji made feel every emotion possible so intensely

[andy-wm]

3D by JK (feat. JH) - my take.

Ok, unpopular opinion maybe, and I might get my ass beaten for this (not in a good way 🤣)

Feel free to disagree RESPECTFULLY.

Disclaimer: If anyone comes at me with that cancel bullshit I will block you, because we all get to have an opinion.

If my post enrages you, scroll past until you can be civil, then come back and talk. Or block me. I dont mind.

And don't tell me that because I don't love this song I have to hand in my ARMY card... I'm not going to.

🙂💜🙂

I'll start by saying I love JK so, so much. Adore him. Will always support him.

But for me, 3D is a misstep.

My feeling is Hybe should have reconsidered releasing it as it is.

JK's lyrics are fun and sexy. The innuendo is on point. The melody is great and the chorus has excellent sing-along value. Even though I'm not a huge pop music fan, I like the vibe.

The MV dancers are awesome, and I got a kick out of the fire hydrant metaphor.

And in that jacket with nothing under it, JK looks hot enough to melt asphalt.

However....

Including Jack Harlow's rap IMO is a mistake. It sucks, frankly. Not in a good way.

It not only misses the mark on the tone of the rest of the song but his lyrics are really just offensive. Misogynistic. And racial refrences are just... not cricket. It's 2023 not 1995, regardless of what his hairstyle tells you.

His lyrics sound like an incel bragging about their sex life when all they've ever done is watch porn. From his words, I doubt he knows how to please any person but himself.

His message is gross, but its still just... generic. Like he went to urban dictionary for spicy language and then googled how to treat women like shit. There's nothing original about what he's saying. He's not even being gross in an intersting way. It's gross AND boring.

(Jack, if you're reading this, sorry my guy you gotta do better.)

I've been army since 2018 and this is the first BTS song I have tried to find merit in and given up.

I honestly tried to be into it and i just... can't. It doesn't sit well with me.

This is a new experience for me because even when BTS release something i don't immediately love, i still stream and watch and let it sink in, or I work on figuring out what I am missing and why it's ACTUALLY good even if i can't grasp it.

This... it's just... not good, in my opinion.

I have to clarify here...

It isn't about explicit content, i am totally down for that. If anyone read my post on Seven, they will know my response to that song. In a nutshell, I believe all adults who want to, should happily and shamelessly be doing ALL the horizontal tango. Every type, every day, in every way. With anyone and everyone they fancy as long as all parties are informed and consenting adults who are equally enjoying the experience.

Yes. I am all about getting down.

That doesn't mean treating your partners like a body count or using and abusing them with no consideration. That's not cool.

**PSA: please be safe and use protection. Get tested regularly if you have multiple partners. Don't do anything you don't feel good about and dont stay with partners who harm or manipulate you 💜**

Now, back to the smut.

Some criticisms i saw of Seven were about how dirty it was. A few people were upset because JK said fuck, and because he sang about how and when he liked to fuck. But more criticism was levelled at Letto. Why?

It seemed like it was because she's a woman, singing about sex.

Letto totally owns her sexuality and she knows what she wants. I snorted with delight at how deliciously filthy her lyrics were. Some very clever wordplay made her verse so visceral, and pretty shocking to the pearl-clutchers, without her ever saying anything directly. I really enjoyed it.

She was telling us straight up how good she is in bed. Good for her. She totally rocks. And she wasn't disrespecting anyone. She didn't need to do that to make herself cool AF.

The difference between Letto's rap and jack harlow's is that jack sounds like he's just looking at the women he's singing about as a hole to stick his dick in. Women have fought for long enough for equality and respect. They don't need this bullshit. You can sing about getting down, and you can be absolutely filthy and nasty and wild, and you can do it without degrading your partners.

I did read a theory about this song being social commentary on toxic masculinity. You can find it here and you can read it below:

Its not bad as a theory. At least it wouldn't be if Namjoon or Yoongi or Hobi - or Jungkook himself - had written the song. If that were the situation we'd see some inkling of self awareness in the rap, and maybe a hint of character development. But there's none.

Sorry ARMY, this is not the class of lyricism we have come to expect.

If jack is trying to make a social statement^*, or play a character, he is not succeeding in showing any growth or humanity at all. He's really just that stereotype.

In the last few lines, after he offers to fly his victim from Korea to Kentucky, he says "and you ain’t gotta guarantee me nothing I just wanna see if I get lucky."

How considerate...

All I see is zero care factor about the actual person he's trying to get with. Which is quite different from JK's lyrics, which show awareness that he's interacting with a conscious, living human being, not a piece of furniture.

jack follows with "I just wanna meet you in the physical and see if you would touch me"

Ugh. Not with a ten foot pole, douchebag.

And how about, in his first verse "All my ABGs get cute for me"

Good god, really? Is he seriously saying this?

So its a no for me.

The ONLY saving grace is that there's an alternative version which is pretty fun. It's almost as if Hybe knew we would hate the version with jack harlow. Wow, such insight!

Now, i know that's not the only reason they made an alternative. They needed a clean version for US radio play (let's be real, what possible other purpose can this song serve? *°)

But they could have censored jack's... actually they couldn't. The rap verses can't be salvaged. They genuinely have no merit, the only hope for the song is totally removing them.

What does that tell you?

ARMY will no doubt still chart the main track but personally, I would feel morally compromised if i supported that version. So I'll stick to the alternative and hope for better things to come.

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

^* Stylecaster doesnt think so either. I visited their website to check thr lyrics. They said, of D3, "Meanwhile, Jack Harlow brings the cool with his two verses as he raps about all the women he could pull"

Uh, really? I hope that's intended to be ironic.

*° The MV had only 4.5million views after 12 hours. And we know what brilliant strategists Hybe employs. I am travelling in Korea right now. There was no promo visible here. And it was no accident that it was released at lunchtime on Chuseok - the biggest famiily holiday of the year - when relatively few people in Korea would be available to engage with it. THEY KNEW IT WAS A STINKER.

[jarofstyles]

Flame 4- Blaze

Hello my loves!! Here she is. Flame part 4. Please let me know what you think!

Check out our Patreon!

Warning: smut!! Dirty talk!! Filth :)

WC: 3.4k

———-

For people who were supposedly best friends with benefits, they were acting more like a couple than anything he had ever experienced.

He fucking loved it.

Dates. What used to be hang outs were dates, really. Harry was having a ball planning them. The movies, new dinner places, brunch, walks in the park, a water park, and recently the zoo. But today, it was simply cooking dinner together and watching a movie on Harry’s projector.

She was wrapped up in his arms, in his sweatshirt again. The pasta sauce emergency had been a result of not securing the lid on the blender, meaning there was splatters of red sauce on the ceiling he may never get off, ruined clothing and a stomach sore from laughing. They had cleaned it together, still managed to have enough to use for their hand made pasta and ultimately had beautiful blackmail photos of one another covered in red sauce.

The lights were dim as they watched Pretty Woman. It was one of Y/N’s favorites, so she was relaxed perfectly in his arms. Sitting right between his split legs on the couch, she rested her head against his chest as her hands held his forearms. Boldly, his own hands were dipped under the borrowed sweatshirt, stroking the soft skin near her ribs. It was mindless, gentle, and driving her a bit crazy.

He pretended not to notice, but he did. Harry could read her like a book. Being friends for years and years on top of learning her intimately had a hand to hold in that. Y/N wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, and he felt fucking honored to be the one she chose to be soft with. When she turned the other night and nuzzled into his neck, he about died with giddiness. Harry had been the clingy one for ages, and now she was close to letting it be a battle.

“Why have you never asked me to be your sugar daddy?” His voice vibrated against her back, making her roll her eyes. Harry always interrupted moments with dumb comments like that but she catagorized it as part of his charm.

“Because you can’t afford me.” She deadpanned, not even turning around to catch his reaction. She didn’t have to. The offended scoff and grunt spoke enoigh- but she hadn’t accounted for how close his hands were to her breasts. The slight pinch to her nipple made her squeal, turning slightly in his arms to give him a wide eyed gape.

“Harry, what the fuck?”

“You just said I don’t have enough sugar to be a daddy.” He groused. “That’s offensive and rude. You know, I could very well afford you. We are sitting on a beautiful couch! And you're wearing my Gucci jumper.” The tone made her aware of his jokes, which didn’t help the fact that the action she had tried to be pissed about had turned her on. She never had anyone pinch her nipple before but she could kind of see the appeal of nipple clamps.

“Shut up, moneybags. I meant what I said. I’d drive you crazy. Besides, you’re literally getting the sexy stuff for free. Do you want to start paying my rent or something? Wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Harry wanted her to move in. But even he recognized that was kind of a ‘what the fuck’ thought and way too soon. He just really enjoyed her staying here, being with him, not separating at night. Waking up to her in his bed. Finding her in his kitchen on her laptop when he got home. She had always kind of had a drawer here, but now her clothes- as much as it drove him a bit mad- mixed with his in the drawers. He didn’t feel like splitting the laundry. It was comfortable and it filled his chest with flutters. The good kind.

“I was thinkin’ more like going out to buy some pretty lingerie for you to wear for me. But I suppose I could pay your rent. Just out of spite. Can’t believe you said that.” He muttered, happy when she turned back to lay on top of him. Her open affection without her pushing him off if her anymore was a welcome change. He didn’t feel any sort of hesitancy anymore, wrapping his arm around her waist while the other toyed with the ends of her hair.

“Fine. Both. If you want to talk like a big shot, I want it Venmo’d to me later. But if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna have to at least suck you off.” A playful glint hit her voice, fingers tangling in his necklace and feeling the cold metal wrap around her skin. She. Had gotten him the phallus banana as a joke but he wore it every day with an almost concerning amount of pride. “Haven’t gotten to do that nearly as much as it should be considering we’ve been doin’ all this stuff.”

Harry swallowed the slight tension in his throat as he listened to her words drop to a whisper. Y/N had opened up to him in a completely different way than he had expected since they’d begun to fool around. It was like she was finally letting the more vulnerable parts of her show, even if just for a few seconds at a time. She was still a cute little bully, still called him out on his shit and his bad jokes but… the new softness she granted him had made his emotions a bit more raw. He’d already liked her, loved her, even, before they’d touched in any way besides their drunken make out sessions. Now? The thumping in his chest had intensified. Bigger fleets of butterflies invaded his stomach. Y/N had made him feel things he never had before, ad cliche as it sounded.

“Well, I’ve no complaints. I do think i could go with a a few more blowies, but I like this too.” He mumbled, pad of his finger brushinge tresses from her cheeks that had fallen in her turn over. “Just letting you be a softie and not getting bitten too much.” The bliss of having her lay in his arms was something that he didn’t take for granted for a single second. He loved it. Their dynamic shifting had made him significantly happier. “I like your mouth regardless. Even though you’re a bit of a bully when you aren’t lettin’ me kiss on you.”

Y/N shyly. smiled, leaning her chin on his chest as she looked up at him. “I only bully you when you deserve it. You’re a menace, especially when you get all smug. It’s only hot when you’re touching me and we’re doing dirty shit. Other than that, it makes me want to smack the dimples off your stupidly cute cheeks.”

Yes, it was a bit of an insulting tease but he couldn’t help the light it brought up to his chest, the festering warmth motioning him to pull her up to his mouth and capture the sweet tasting lips for his own. Y/N had been caught slightly off guard with how tenderly he treated her lately, especially with how he had seemed so overjoyed to do it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been clingy and soft in the past, it was just… a lot more now. A lot of stuff that he hadn’t done before. Holding her hand closer to his mouth and kissing each knuckle, stroking imaginary hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Even stroking over her eyebrows as they cuddled which felt strangely more intimate than anything else. He didn’t ever seem to tire of looking at her.

It was living in a state of delusion, perhaps, but it felt so real. So real it almost hurt to think of it as anything but.

“Cute cheeks, hm? A compliment? You’ve been awfully generous with the compliments lately, little angel girl.” He crooned, tapping his finger against her nose. “I like it. Keep ‘em coming. Cause I can return the compliments all day long. I love your eyes. Could look into ‘em forever, really. Prettiest girl in the world. Not even just saying that.” He shrugged. “Always thought that but you used to punch me in the chest for saying your hair clips looked cute. So.” The man’s tongue pointed out at her, making her give him a look.

“Shut up.” Again, she felt a bit itchy under his scrutiny, his compliment. It made it feel even more serious. Not that she didn’t want it, but she felt a little antsy when the idea of it came about, because how did they transition to that? Would she ever have the balls to say anything about it?

“Nope.” His lips popped around the P, sitting up with her on top of him and adjusting so she was sat on his lap, arm wrapped around her waist to keep her stationary as he moved. “You’re beautiful.” Fingers of his free hand stroked down the side of her neck. “So beautiful. Especially in my clothes. I think you’ve been doing it on purpose.” Her eyes were shy when he complimented her like this, dropping to his chest. Harry’s never left her. He could notice all the subtle changes. Any twitch of the lips, the swallow in her throat. He knew her inside and out. “No one compares to you. Mean it.” He lightened his tone but there was the weight of what those words could mean. “Y’know… I know you say aren’t fond of me being my sweet self to you, but you are. You love when I’m soft with you. You’ll never admit it to me, but it’s true.” His lips delicately pressed to her cheek, exhaling through his nose.

Y/N didn’t like how well he knew her. Well- she hadn’t. Now? Now… that glittery, plushy, bubblegum pink feeling in her chest when he littered her with compliments and kisses had her clinging on and craving more. Allowing him to do these things because Harry meant them. He wouldn’t lie to her. Never. Not about things like this. He had taken the lead on being more domestic and sweet but she hadn’t felt even the slightest bit of resistance to it. She decided to be quiet, grumbling as she sagged into him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders while she felt him chuckle under him. Her face tucked into his neck, hesitantly placing three kisses to the hot skin while she tried to navigate these feelings.

Harry’s smile was soft. Holding her to him, hand splaying across her back and rubbing over the jumper as she cuddled him. “I like when you’re my sweet girl. Makes me so happy.” He let the words out quietly, turning his head slightly to rub his nose against her hair. “Not trying to tease you. I really like when you’re soft and let me be nice to you. I enjoy your bullying… but this?” He laughed. “This is my favorite.”

Y/N couldn’t help it. She wasn’t good with words the way he was, so she decided to answer with her body. Pulling from her neck with a soft sound she couldn’t quite place where it came from, she slotted their lips together lazily and kissed him. Soft. So, so, soft and delicate. A simple lip lock in appreciation for his kind words. The only person this type of vulnerability felt okay with. That she was warming up to. That tough shell Harry had managed to crack and pick away the hard exterior for. He had picked her apart piece by piece in a way that hadn’t felt too bad. After a while, she had begun to find comfort in revealing new things to him.

It was just a scary revelation. Being in love with your best friend.

“Dork.” She resorted to a soft insult but the smile against his lips made him return it. She didn’t know how to express it verbally yet, and he was okay with it. “Irritates me cause… now I really want to suck you off.”

“Think I want to be close to you right now.” Harry loved her mouth but… he simply wanted her. He wanted to be inside of her and feel her as close as humanly possible. “Can I have you? Nothing too crazy yet. Just…” he sighed. “Want to be close.”

Y/N couldn’t say no. How could she when she wanted the same exact thing?

It didn’t take too long. Being wet had aided in her preparation, Harry slipping inside of her and letting himself feel the stretch. The condom that had been placed conveniently in the coffee table drawer did little to hide the way she was clenching around him, slowly letting her fall down further on his length as she sat on his lap.

“There she is. That’s my girl.” His words were gentle, the arm around her firm as he looked into her eyes. “Take your time. Feels so good already.” The praise naturally fell from his lips to her. Y/N whimpered at the feeling of him filling her, her body adjusting to him, but it was a delicious feeling. Her nails slightly dug into his shoulders as she exhaled a moan, falling down as much as she could before she began to grind her hips a little bit.

Harry groaned along with her, fingers flexing on her hip as he encouraged her slow movement. “Just like that. Fit me perfectly, don’t you?” He kept his forehead against hers, wanting to keep that closeness. His sweats around his ankles, shirt on the floor and his hand on her now bare torso, this was intimate. There was no rush. Simply enjoying each other. “Like you were made t’be filled with me. Such a perfect girl.”

This wasn’t best-friends-with-benefits type of talk and they both knew it; but neither were ready to admit it quite yet.

Y/N never felt this comfortable with any of her partners. Harry was attentive. He knew her body. The way he fit inside of her filled every inch she had, brushed against the most sensitive spots and made each rock on top of him shot hot sparks of pleasure down her spine. Soft moans left her mouth as she continued the movements, enjoying every second.

“Feels perfect.” She whispered. This was a bit different than their other times. Not as filthy… not as deprived. It was intimate. Soft. Needy in a completely different way. Y/N was sure she would overthink what it meant later but right now, she felt cherished. Adored. This was so wring she wanted to bask in. “Harry-“ the gasp left her lips as he shifted slightly, the angle changing just enough that he was pressed against the spot that had her shaking a little.

“I know, baby. I know.” He soothed, his own breathing rougher as he held the back of her neck, bringing their lips together for a messy kiss. She was tight around him, Harry lifting his hips a bit as she rocked to get as deep as he could and enjoy her motions. Y/N was the best he had ever had and probably ever will. He wanted to keep her. “You feel so good around me. Could stay inside of you forever.” His nose brushed over hers. They could both feel the change. It had been brewing for a while, but right now it was getting to be a lot. Getting to be so much that neither could ignore it- though Harry wasn’t trying to for his sake.

“Stay.” She swallowed the word with a kiss, letting it reverb off his lips. “Stay, stay in me forever.”

Harry couldn’t help take it. Flipping them over so he was on top, gently laying her on the couch and making sure she was cushioned, he began to thrust inside of her. Slow, deep, feeling her cunt flutter around him as she gasped wetly into the air. Her hands clung to him, one buried inside of his hair and the other digging into his back, leg wrapping around his waist to pull him in.

Close. She wanted closer. “Oh my god- oh my god.” She gasped, feeling him deeper than she had before. The angle was perfect, the one lifted leg allowing him to slot right in. “There, there- H, baby-“ she let out a whine as he covered her mouth with his, snapping his his particularly hard and staying still for a moment.

“Baby- angel, please.” He pleaded. “Gonna make me cum when y’sound like that. Feels so fucking good, you keep clenching… trying to milk my fucking cock.” He grunted, almost frustrated. It felt too good like this, her body was trying to take it. “Want to go bare one day. I want it.” He nuzzled against her, the hand returned under her neck and pulled her head up so he could kiss down her neck.

“Want to be the only one you have. Haven’t wanted anyone else… just want to be bare and feel you around me. Want you to be mine.” The words slurred against her skin, Y/N whining with each thrust. The statement aroused her and soothed at the same time, her head nodding frantically.

“Yes- yes, yes, next time. Please- next time, bare. Want to be the only one. You are. Only one I want inside me like this. Harry- please.” She pleaded with him. “Please, please, want you to cum inside me and I want-“ she hiccuped, his speed increasing and the power of his thrusts making her feel so good that her mind was a bit scrambled. “Want to feel you dripping out of me and I want… want you to own it. Want to remember it when I go out or when we go with our friends.” It was what she had been thinking finally dug out by the sheer connection and pleasure. Harry had a knack for getting her to admit things.

“Fuck baby you can’t-“ his sharp inhale was felt against her lips, his hips stuttering as his thrusts got sloppier. “Can’t tell me that. I’ll do it. I’ll fill you, I’ll have you. I’ll be the only one bare inside you, fuck- I’m gonna cum.”’he warned. Usually he lasted far longer, and honestly would probably be a bit embarrassed at how quickly he came this time but… the things she was saying. It struck a white hot nerve in his mind that had his cock throbbing inside of her, ready and eager to give her exactly what she asked for.

“Harder. Go a bit harder and I’ll-“ Y/N didn’t even have to finish her sentence. Pulling her leg up more, he went for it. The timed thrusts, her hand going between her legs and rubbing frantically at her swollen clit, the sheer energy in the room having these confessions had her near the edge. The sound of their skin and his grunts, her whimpers bounced off the walls, the TV long forgotten as they chased their orgasms.

Harry was first. He hadn’t meant to, but looking right into her eyes and seeing the pleasure all over her face, feeling her cunt at the brink of her own release had him spilling into the condom. Imagining it next time. No barrier. Painting her cunt with his cum, making a mess. Letting it slip down her thighs and know that she would feel it- it was too much for him. A deep, guttural groan left his mouth as he unloaded inside of the condom, face pulled up in sheer bliss as Y/N followed.

She shook, clawing at his back with a soft wail of his name as she felt the final slam inside of her, fingers rubbing over her slippery clit as the electricity of their gazes only spurred her over the edge. His beautiful face, his noises, him being the one inside of her. It was everything. Swirls of color behind her eyes as she felt him collapse inside of her neck again, a weak groan of her name solidified it.

This was everything. He was far more than a best friend. This wasn’t just sex.

This was love.

When would they confront it?

[theangelcatalogue]

❝ If you don't shut your mouth, I'ma shut it for you! ❞ ― YANDERE MISCHA BACHINSKI HEADCANONS

→ RIDE THE CYCLONE

→ ROMANTIC

→ GENDER NEUTRAL

→ TW: MURDER, PROTECTIVE BEHAVIOR, THREAT, POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, CLINGY BEHAVIOR, TOXIC BEHAVIOR, DELUSIONAL BEHAVIOR, KIDNAPPING/KIDNAP MENTION, BULLYING/BULLYING MENTIONS, FIGHTS/FIGHTING MENTION, BLOOD, VIOLENCE/VIOLENCE MENTIONS, SENSITIVE TOPICS, BAD GRAMMAR, BAD ENGLISH AND MADE BY A MINOR! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE, FEEL FREE TO LEAVE! PLEASE TELL IF I FORGOT SOMETHING AND ENJOY(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ !

───── ❝ NON-CYCLONE/ALIVE AU ❞ ─────

❝ Hit ya (hit ya) with the (with the) punk (punk) tactics! ❞

★ → Mischa Bachinski, the angriest boy in town, that's a damn of reputation, i mean, he has his motives right? His mom died of uranium exposition, just to be adopted by a couple in Uranium, and also have a shit home life in his adoptive house! This is how he became the angriest boy in town!

★ → But a thing is, when he falls, he falls hard, like, really.

★ → You are probably part of the choir too, and the fact a person didn't care about the rumors or his reputation, you just talked with him, so yeah, after meeting you and when he started to interact with you more, he fell for you! (Really and hard.)

★ → If you ever find a love letter or lyrics in your locker, it was him! Of course, he doesn't sign, he will leave them anonymous, and when you tell him about the letters, how you never excepted to have a secret admirer or something like that, you say that they are really pretty and well written, he is happy internally!

★ → He's very obsessive, thinks and talks about you 24/7, he even has some photos of you in his phone (Some of the photos he may or may not been taken some without you knowing)...

★ → He's also very protective of you, are you being bullied? The next day, the bully is too scared to even look at you, a guy is making you uncomfortable? The guy is beaten up, anyone who does any bad to you are screwed! You are the only one that calms him down.

★ → He has some nicknames for you, maybe some variation of your name, but some of them are in Ukrainian, you don't understand them and just hopes they aren't something offensive (They aren't, he would never say anything bad about you)

- Моя любов (Moya lyubov) - My love - Дорогий( Dorohyy) - My dear - Мій божественний (Miy bozhestvennyy) - My divine

(I used Google in this part! Please tell me if i got something wrong!)

★ → As i said, anyone who does any bad to you are screwed, right? But what do i mean by that? Well, Mischa won't let it slide, threats, violence, even murder? He will use it! He has to protect you, he won't let anyone hurt you, mentally, emotionally or physically, Mischa will make sure you are safe, of course if he murders anyone, he won't let people know, he isn't dumb (YOU HEARD IT RTC FANDOM??)

★ → His thoughts can be delusional sometimes, he already at some point thought of you two wedding, his dream is to have a traditional wedding in Ukraine, he wants you both to visit his hometown, it would be amazing. (He already made his vows. Just warning you.)

★ → Now you ask me, how is he going to confess? Well, probably going to tell you face to face, he means every word he says, he has a way with the words. (Please, we all know that, i mean, you listened to Talia??)

★ → After you two started dating, he is 10 times worst!! Really...like, really.

★ → He is more protective, more obssesive, more jealous, he sends you more messages that he sends you before, if this is possible, because he texts you 24/7.

★ → He already made threats to anyone that thought of confess to you, if he discovers, did he already killed them? Possibly...

★ → If you ever discover any of this and confront him, he would be confused! He did this for you, he loves you! Can't you see, he has a reason! That reason is you!

★ → It could come to a point where he would lock you in the basement with him, he would do this when his adoptive parents aren't home, they don't check the basement no matter what, he would take good care of you.

★ → He would never hurt you. But he would do anything to keep you with him, he would do anything.

★ → Anything.

★- HIT YA WITH THE PUNK TACTICS!

★ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MISCHA!! :D

★ FIRST RTC HEADCANON LET'S GOOOO

★ The brainrot is real guys.

★ HOW ARE U GUYS?? I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS!! :3

[midnightmah07]

Boundaries.

As I talk more to people on this platform I feel a bit of a necessity to state some boundaries just to be safe

- please NEVER refer to me as the b word or anything offensive like that, I can handle aggressive humor with people I get closer with but I don't like when people call me these things even if it's playful.

- if you can avoid curse words please do so!! I personally don't like them because of my religion, so if you can avoid speaking curse words near me I'd appreciate it! This is not a hard rule as I won't mind if you curse a few times, but if you have a really dirty mouth please try to tone it down when talking to me.

- please use tone indicators when making jokes that you believe may be mistaken for something rude, especially if we're not that close.

- I don't like being tagged on stuff by people who I don't know/barely know. It feels like you're trying to force a friendship that we don't have, so I'd appreciate it if you don't do that. I actually don't mind being tagged tbh it's not something that bothers me, but I'd like it to be by my moots/friends or to at least be asked if I'm ok with it.

- I don't mind hearing ramblings, I love seeing how excited people talk about their passions, but please ask if I'm comfortable with you doing so beforehand and be careful with how often you do that.

- please do not flood my inbox. I don't mind people coming to my inbox frequently but if what you're sending me can be talked either in DMs, comments or reblogs, do not send me billions of asks. It makes me uncomfortable and honestly makes my blog a huge mess. If I come to my inbox and see like 10 asks from the same person I will not answer.

- on that note, I may add that you guys do not info dump about your OCs 24/7. I do like hearing about other people's OCs, but a lot of the times that's literally the only thing they're talking about. I'm not a dumpster, I'm a human being with my own interests. If you're just coming to my inbox to dump your OC's lore, and it starts feeling like a monologue and not a dialogue, I'm just not gonna answer until you start talking to me normally again. I'm sorry to sound a bit harsh, but it's tiering when people only talk to me to dump about their OCs.

- don't look down and badmouth my religion in any way, shape or form. Being a Christian is the most important part of me and it defines who I am as a person, so please be careful with what you say. Also, my views, beliefs and convictions are and will always be dictated by my religion, I will not attack you for believing something different from me but respect is a two way street, if you attack me for saying stuff accurate to my religion and faith, you're getting blocked.

- don't talk about political issues with me unless you're willing to be respectful. I've seen a lot of friendships being torn because of how different their political views were and I'd hate that to happen to me and my moots. In fact, if you can avoid this talk, please do so. If you must know my stance politically, I mostly align with conservative values.

- unless you were rude to me or attacked me, if you see I have you blocked/soft blocked, it's probably not personal. This is the internet so I will block/unfollow people who post stuff that make me uncomfortable/I don't think what they're saying is correct. Doesn't mean I don't think they're a good person, just means I don't want to interact with them. I have NOTHING against them if the day ever comes that I block/unfollow someone on Tumblr "at random"

- don't talk about anything nsfw/explicit with me. I might not be a minor but this type of talk still makes me very uncomfortable. If you send me something in my inbox that's nsfw/explicit I will delete it and pretend to not see it, however if you do it because you want to make me uncomfortable or if you do it more than once I will block you.

With that all said, feel free to talk to me whenever you want, just be mindful of these boundaries :))

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

WHAT TERRIBLE THINGS ARE YOU DOING TO MY BUG [mallrad] [i saw ur repost of nhw mal lmao]

I NEEEEED INFROMATION RN PLEASE FEEL FREE TO INFODUMP AS MUCH AS YOU WANT PLEASE

HI KOI!!!!!!!!!! sorry this has taken me forever to answer ive had a busy work week ouagh. but its MAL TIME NOW. well. technically amity time bc im gonna talk about the setting in general because i love it. whatever go my scarab!

IM GOING TO ANSWER THIS ASSUMING U KNOW WHAT NHW IS. IF YOU DONT IM SO SORRY but also the masterpost is HERE which has basically all the context u need i think.

awesome place to start is reading This Post because it basically lays out the essentials for amity in general and gives you a good idea of their whole deal (theres also this one. which is a joke. but its my favorite ever and i think you will appreciate the clarence)

since i mostly ran thru the basics of their plot timeline super quick in that post i can get into details in this one :] putting a lot of it under the cut so its not 12 miles long hehe

i really like leaving a lot of the amity stuff to be mystery partially because it will literally NEVER come up in the "canon timeline" or whatever since it all happened x number of years ago and partially because giving it an air of mystery makes it seem more myth/legend than anything concrete. which!! since its supposed to be the nhw equivalent of the spirit world i love the idea that its vague and mysterious and hard to comprehend that the Chaos Zone (colloquial name for the quarantine area around the city where they keep the trickster trapped) used to be like. a relatively peaceful idyllic city with only a small handful of capes and not a lot of action. that being said i do in fact have clam flavored brain worms which means i cannot help thinking about clarence and mal in so much detail that is SO unnecessary to the rest of the story other than serving to make what happened to them more tragic.

ANYWAY. all that being said that is my excuse for not having any solid ideas on mals trigger event. ive kind of played around with the idea that he's a case 53 (cauldron dropped him into the city mid-ghoul transformation and full of amnesia so he had. basically no identity before then and no idea where or who or what he was so he just kind of started breaking things) but honestly i havent thought abt it all that much bc its just not that important. either way. he started out as an unaffiliated rogue/villain. as ghoul, he was in his brute form like 90% of the time and behaved pretty much like a less cannibalistic venom. just kind of like. causing damage just because he can. really the ONLY two capes in amity at the time were Whisperer (clarence) and Afterlife (duck) (<< first duck mention btw!). Afterlife is a lot more apathetic to things like this (hes old. hes tired. hes survived WELL past the cape life expectancy but theres no real protocol for capes retiring because usually they just. die. so hes still here) and he really only responds to things he deems an emergency, and some rando causing property damage isnt enough to put ghoul on his radar. so that left Whisperer to deal with him. his powers are very nonviolent non-confrontational so his way of dealing with villains is to use his. basically tranquilizer powers to get them to stop doing whatever theyre doing (its a good thing amity is peaceful. this is NOT a. super great awesome offensive power and he can get very easily overwhelmed against more than one target). so he does this to Ghoul and since his he's a new cape and is not fully under control of his changer powers yet, his brute form drops as soon as hes calm and hes just. some sad disheveled looking guy.

so clarence sees this guy who is just. so incredibly lost. whether thats because of case 53 amnesia or like. post-trigger, post-changer state disorientation, hes just. like. pathetic. hes not being a villain because hes evil hes just doing things because he doesnt know what else to do. so clarence, who is way too kindhearted for his own good, offers to help him. and mal, who has probably never given this sort of softness in his life. just immediately fucking melts into it. of course he accepts that offer he has nothing else to do! he doesnt really care about being a hero or a villain or anything like that (having a morality crisis is boring and a waste of time) but this man is literally glowing and offering him a hand to hold and a purpose and something other than just mindless destruction

so mal drops the name Ghoul and gets his changer powers better under control and properly develops his master powers instead of his brute powers and becomes what essentially ends up being Whisperer's sidekick under the new name Purgatory (which. i really made on a whim at the time but now that i have had time to think about it really has a lot of significance to his character and state of mind and it makes me SICK)

mal has a sort of hero worship crush on clarence like. thats His Hero. thats the guy who picked him up off the ground and helped him stand out of the kindness of his heart and they know each other out of costume now and even in his civilian life clarence is funny and laid back and so easy to talk to and. mal is not those things. god he is so down bad. relationship wise i will point to this convo which i still stand by

but i think like. both in and out of costume theyre kind of inseparable. mal is like. suuuper super protective over clarence to the point where its kind of an intimidation factor to other people. scary dog privilege or whatever. i like to refer to it as like... if clarence was a prince mal would be his loyal knight. if mal was an animal he would be a falcon (fast, sharp, dangerous, always returns to its master etc etc etc).

its also really important to me that clarence DOES NOT see their relationship like this at all he is so. oblivious. or if hes not oblivious he just doesnt do anything about it or puts it out of his mind or whatever. i think one of clarences big flaws is that hes almost too laid back about certain things that he maybe should care about a little more? big "itll be fine" in situations where things . PROBABLY will not be fine if he doesnt do something about it. so while he doesnt really purposefully encourage mals weird hero worship with him he also doesnt really do anything to dissuade it either. so thats how we get to. where we get to. with them. ouhghhh boy.

i already talked abt this pretty in depth in the other post but trickster appears, kills clarence in front of mal, and it just BREAKS something fundamental in him. once the trickster throws him out of the city i think the prt has to drag him away kicking and screaming because theres NO way he would willingly walk away from that (ESPECIALLY because... clarence's body is still there. he never got a proper funeral or burial or anything hes just.... there on the street or on the roof of a building like hes nothing). they probably put him in some kind of custody which he inevitably breaks out of and goes out on his own. i think he tries to go back to the city only to find the walls already in place and no way to get in without fighting a LOT of soldiers and ripping through a lot of anti-cape measures. which he is emotionally willing to do, but hes not stupid. he knows he needs backup. so he seeks out the worlds most dangerous most awful notorious capes ever. and thats how he ends up with the slaughterhouse 9! his eventual goal with them is to manipulate them into helping him get back into amity and kill the trickster. which is OBVIOUSLY not how things turn out, but thats his motivation at least.

when wraith ends up in the public eye with the new haven wards and his costume is sooooo so eerily close to the whisperer, mal kind of Leaves the s9 for a bit? hes still a member and everything, he doesnt actively quit or betray them or anything bc thats like asking to get killed, but he stops travelling with them in order to. whats the nicest way i can say this. research? the wards. specifically wraith. that little unhinged piece of his mind that snapped when clarence was killed gives him this horrible idea that wraith is just.. clarence reincarnated. its probably been close to 20ish years since the amity incident at this point, so the timing even lines up close enough for him to be convinced. so that starts his weird obsession with william, which eventually involves him nominating william as a potential candidate to join the s9 in the trials (william has a Complex about this) and other fucked up things like the tide fridge (<< our loving name for when mal kidnaps tide and keeps him in jars or whatever in the spirit world in canon etc)

hes my favorite fucked up little guy!!!!!!! i hate him so much i want to hit him with hammers but also ive had a specific stained glass art piece depicting the biblical purgatory that i really want to draw as him and clarence so like. take that as you will. im obsessed with them i think abt them so much even though clarence has like no bearing on the actual plot of nhw since the whole "william is the next whisperer" thing is nonexistent. i got distracted writing this a FEW times so i maybe forgot some things so if theres anything else u want to know about them... hmu. i love 2 talk abt them so much <3

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Let's Talk BL: My Love Mix Up Th

Ep. 2

Hello!! =D

Welcome back! (I'm the one from the long We Are posts hehe-)

A little spoiler warning for those who haven't watched the original Kieta Hatsukoi, will reference it a little, but it won't be any great big reveals, just small comparisons here and there. This is for the show only, since I haven't read the manga.

Firstly, I'd noticed this in the first ep itself, but forgot to mention, Atom and Kongthap use rao/nai. It's a little old fashioned and often used between lovers. So I'm yet to understand why it's replacing the usual guu/mueng among classmates and friends in thai BL. To make it more polite? To make more Japanese? Hmm...

That look (when they were practicing the show scene) really backfired on poor Atom 😭 Also, Kongthap's oblivious "How do you know? Have I ever smiled at you?" cracked me up right down the middle 😭😂

When he came down the stairs in the traditional scene, Atom was totally, definitely, 100% checking him out.

If it's one thing that Thai BL never fails at is making anything and everything a musical 😭 I mean, yeah, Cinderella is originally a musical, but three (3) whole songs in the span of 10 minutes is to much, even for GMMTV.

I did really love that dance scene though. I mean... the cinematography, the choreography, the chemistry, they all fit just right.

Now, a small little... it's not a critique exactly, just an observation and entirely a personal observation. Please feel free to ignore this.

In Kieta, it was decided at the rehearsal itself that Aoki would play Cinderella. In MLMU, they changed it, and Atom jumping in at the last moment was a little more impromptu and showed how far he'd go for his friend someone he likes. But, I didn't really like how everyone shot him down when he offered to take Mudmee's place.

And after the show was over, when those boys tried to tease Aoki, he got flustered and himself said "how can it be possible-" and went offensive in order to defend himself, even after Ida shot the idiots (derogatory) down. Here, Atom kept denying until Kongthap stepped in, and then reassured Thap that he wasn't uncomfortable, or angry at him. I liked this.

So... one for one, I guess. They changed a scene I already liked in Kieta to one that makes squint my eyes and something that bugged me a little into something I like now.

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOOOOST as much as maroon has taken over every single brain cell of mine, i can’t seem to stop thinking about 24 hours!eddie and reader lately! they still got me on a chokehold!

i was just thinking, like in the long run, were they endgame? i know they’re head over heels for each other but like.....are they in it for the long haul? what would happen if like the topic of getting married or having kids was brought up, how are they both going to react? 👀

i’m not asking or forcing you to write a blurb out of this or anything so please don’t feel pressured, i’m genuinely just curious about their lore!!! 😭 and i also miss them so much lmao might end up re-reading the series again while waiting for the next maroon chapter ❤️❤️❤️

anyway i luv u and i hope you’re having a great day!

wanna know a secret? they definitely still live rent free in my mind as well.

they were definitely end game in the long haul of things. in my mind, it's actually funny, because i've thought about them watching their friends constantly getting into relationships and those relationships constantly ending, and yet they're still there and going strong as ever while everyone is just like "...what the fuck?"

nancy and johnathan would probably end up breaking up in the twenty four hours universe. that's actually canon based on a sequel idea i had. like, we're talking not very long after the events of the main fic. nancy would go to reader and probably rant in the midst of her heartbreak "i just don't get it. i thought me and johnathan - we were gonna make it, you know? i thought we had the perfect relationship. and, no offense, but compared to you and eddie, we did." (which she obviously doesn't mean, but she's just hurt and projecting. we all know nancy was a number one reader x eddie shipper). and reader could grow insecure about it and overthink, but when she ends the day getting to gossip all about it to eddie, he just scoffs and said "excuse me? what the hell does that mean? out of spite, we're definitely gonna end up growing old together. gonna mock them from across the retirement home as i kiss all your wrinkles. that'll show them." and she's just reminded that, oh, yeah. it doesn't matter what other people think. this is her idiot for the long haul. and spoiler: it isn't spite keeping them together. it's the way eddie looks at reader like she painted the night sky just for him. it's the way eddie is the first person reader wants to talk to in nearly every scenario, the way he's the first person her eyes draw to in every room no matter how crowded. they bicker endlessly, they aren't always acting the most lovesick and nauseatingly affectionate with each other in front of others, and there's certainly been plenty of fights where the gang holds their breath for the announcement of a breakup, but they always find a way to make it through. always. they're one of those couples, ya know?

and i could also ramble about the whole marriage/kid discussion, but i actually had a short one shot about it i wanted to write! i think i've avoided posting any of the excess content i had planned for them because i don't want to beat a dead horse, you know? it's been over a year now, and even though i love and adore them, i don't want to seem like i'm milking that universe haha. if that's something y'all would like to see now even though it's been so long, i am finally out of my funk with writing them and could probably post some of those one shots! especially because the way they go about conversations like kids/marriage is so fuckin funny to me.

i luv you even more, and hope you have the most wonderful of days, friend <3 thank you for not letting one, but TWO??? of my stories take up residency in your thoughts. it means the world to me and i'm giving you all the hugs and forehead kisses <3

[kirk-says-wah]

How has Kirk deceived him 3 times? Comforting James is not deception. He touched him in a supportive way. James I think took it as such as well. Maybe they'll become friends since they have no one else to lean on while Lars is lying in a hospital bed. It's not like he stuck his hand down his pants...

1. Deception of character ❗️

2. Getting hard for someone else's husband❗️

3. Knowing that Kirk finds James attractive should make Kirk keep his distance. But he didn't❗️

Talk about betrayal.

No one ever called James a cheater. If anyone Lars is a cheater for kissing James. Kirk getting hard could've been his body's natural involuntary reaction to a heated moment.

In Chapter 5 James kissed Lars. In chapter 9 Lars kisses James to settle him down when they are in the hospital because James is acting erratic. Trying to get out of bed. So no Lars is not a cheater!!! He did that to stop James from trying to go back to Daves. Now show me another chapter where Lars just kisses James because he feels like it. I'll be waiting...

And getting hard was NOT his so-called involuntary reaction to a heated moment. The writer FULLY said that Kirk is attracted to James. It is written!!!! I can copy and paste it.

Do you know how many back-and-forths I've been having with the Klars lovers? Especially 🌚 anon. When me and that anon had gotten into a heated argument we knew it was all just for the story. It was never anything serious. In the same way, it's never serious when other anons come at me for wanting James and Lars together. They never took it to heart. And neither did I. I made jokes about Lars living in the bushes. I know he's not going to live there. But free-spirited people like living their lives a certain way. So that was the joke. You all were making 🗡 and 🛡 emojis about riding for Klars. Then we find out that Kirk finds James attractive and had a hard on for him. So I used the 🤡 emoji because Kirk doesn't just find his lover (Lars) attractive but Lars's husband as well. So all of a sudden it's a problem for my emoji?????

No one's called anyone here names for their opinions. It might be funny to you, but disrespectful to others.

When have I called someone names for their opinions 🤔 and Please don't ✋️talk about the clown one. Everyone else made an emoji so I did too.

And mind you, I have taken some comments myself from Klar's people but I never got upset like the way you are. I know it's the story. Ex) One anon calling my fantasy about James and Lars living out their best lives a fairy tale. Did I take offense no!

You came at me hot! Because of what??? My opinion right! Just like you talked about yours and others! I stick by everything I have said on top!

My deepest, deepest apologies to you that you think I'm being disrespectful. Yet there is no proof of that. You just can't take jokes or humor. But I can. And I have been reading almost everyone's comments on their opinions. And you are the one who has complained.

@ride-the-hammett

🙍

okay I think we all just need to remember this is all about a story and everyone is entitled to their opinion.

Lots of things have been said, and I don’t think anyone has intentionally meant to hurt anyone. This is all just for fun, nothing is serious

Please please don’t argue. I literally can’t cope with any type of fighting.

This is a safe space for everyone, it’s fun hearing you guys fight for your respective ships, and I love that you guys are so invested in the story. Let’s not lose that!

[sodapunked]

☆WELCOME TO MY WORLD (A quite interesting introduction post)☆

I don't think I've even done an introduction post ever since I've made a tumblr here so... you know what? I've made the decision to make one.

Before we start...

WARNING: before you proceed, some of my art pieces contain bright colors, sometimes eyestraining maybe.

(THIS PART IN PARENTHESES HIGHLIGHTED IN RED IS FOR THE IGNORANT SISSIES WHO DO NOTHING BUT COMPLAIN AND WHATNOT: I draw busty woman and somewhat dark stuff when i feel like it, if you have a problem with that, leave, this place is NOT FOR YOU, the block/exit button is right there ➡️🚪If you're going to complain to me about what I draw and what I decide to do with my characters, the answer is NO. your attempts to stop me are futile, come to me if you ACTUALLY have a valid reason. I draw and make whatever I want😏)

First thing's first:

Hello, my name is SodaPunked... or SP or Soda, and I'm a 19 year old self taught artist who's been drawing since... the beginning of my life, and who's been drawing digitally for as long as I remember. I'm just here... making art, characters and stories and showing you guys said stuff.I also love... drawing men. (I also draw women too).

I'm also your very VERY average jew.

MY INTERESTS~☆

- Rhythm games

- Watching true crime, internet rabbit holes, and bad reviews on anything (mostly animated shows, webtoons, movies because it's entertainingly interesting)

- Daft punk my beloved :D

- Splatoon (I only played games 2 and 3)

- Anything sparkly

- Doing art (drawing is my life)

- anything that has an OUNCE of spice and crispy texture (im talking about food to be specific)

- my characters (they're like my children)

- music from the 80s, 90s and some 2000s music

- anything bizarre, maybe a bit dark.

- the colors black and pink

ASK BOX?

My ask box is always open if you're looking forward to asking or discussing with me about the lore/story, characters, and universe I created.. or my webtoon that's based on said stuff. Feel free to drop an ask if you want (it's up to you)

RULES:

- Please DO NOT ask me about politics, or anything sexual. I will NOT respond to asks as such.

RULES BEFORE INTERACTING WITH ME:

- please do not mention anything about politics or anything offensive.

- do not mention anything sexual or talk to me about that stuff, it personally gets me feeling... icky and uncomfortable.

Other stuff~♡♡

☆Instagram

☆My Webtoon

Alright, I think that should be all.

[justanaceattorneyenthusiast]

First Post

Hi! I’m an Ace Attorney fan and have been for like 14 years now (thank you uncensored YouTube access). I just wanted to make a blog so that I can talk about my favourite series.

Anyone who knows me already will probably work out who I am pretty quickly. If you’re one of those people then hello, let me yap in peace 💖

Im sure I don’t have to explain the obvious, but I will anyways:

I’m just doing this for fun. Ace Attorney has been a special interest for me for 14 years now, I don’t think words can ever describe what it means for me, but if I’m not updating loads please don’t force me to because I’m just here for a good time. 💖

All the opinions I post here are my own, I’m entitled to them as are you so feel free to disagree! Just don’t be rude about it. 💖

If you really don’t like what I have to say, just don’t look at this blog. Genuinely it’s so much better if you just close the tab and go find something else to do with your day. I’m not here to get into discourse, I’m just here to talk about cool lawyers and all their friends. 💖

I really try to be good about this so if anything I’ve said causes offense or is wrong, please let me know privately. I’m always willing to learn so that I can be a better person and be better educated. 💖

Boring stuff out the way, now for something a bit more lighthearted!

I’m gonna talk about all sorts of stuff so please if you have suggestions or if you’ve seen something ace attorney related that you think is cool please send it my way. 💖

I hope that even if like 2 people see this blog, I can foster a cool community of people who like Ace Attorney together to talk about what we love. 💖

[abandonedaccount1234]

I am sure people are gonna attack me for this but it needs to be said.

NOTE: I am in no way, shape, or form trying to cancel Tommy Kinnard or Lou.

I like Tommy. He's a good character.

He HOWEVER is a very flawed character. A character who has yet to have any real reckoning for what he did. Helping the crew to save the ship doesn't mean we get to just forget he was racist and misogynistic.

You don't get to just be racist, misogynistic, and honestly even homophobic, come out later in life, and use that as free pass to get away with with you did. That's not on Tommy or Lou (though he really downplayed that to a point of ICK in that cameo imo), it's on the writers. I do acknowledge this is a fictional character.

Even more of a reason as to why IT'S OKAY TO ADMIT HE'S NOT PERFECT. I want characters to be truly human. To make mistakes. To learn from their mistakes. And to say, hey, that was really shitty and I'm sorry.

I am not okay with the show just writing off the discrimination he caused because some years have passed and he's now Buck's boyfriend.

Hurt people hurt people. Yes. That does NOT excuse the behavior. Only explains it.

Past Tommy was the epitome of male white privilege and never being held accountable. Like everyone else in that station. They quite literally fostered an environment of white supremacy and I don't feel like we talk about this enough.

Present Tommy is....? Who the fuck knows because the writers haven't really let us know? They haven't let us see any real growth besides being out and being okay with woman of color now..?

This feels all to similar to growing up in a predominantly white area where people try to act progressive and like they were never once racist in their lives so no one 'cancels' them.

To never acknowledge it and to write it off like it was nothing frankly pisses me off.

Tommy has the potential to be great representation for people who have truly educated themselves and become genuine good people by learning from their mistakes and the discrimination they caused.

There is nothing wrong with saying, hey, I messed up, I made choices that directly hurt you. I will educate myself moving forward and I will be better. All I want is acknowledgement that he knows what he did was wrong.

I say all of this a woman of color myself who very much has faced similar microaggressions (and major) like Hen has.

You don't ever forget what those people said or did. Whether they've grown or changed and become a better person. That shit sticks with you for life. Every. Single. One.

I wanna like Tommy so bad but I just...can't get past this and I refuse to.

You don't get a free pass because you were in the closet or because that was what the times were like or because everyone else was doing it. There's no excuse.

Sorry not sorry 🤷🏽‍♀️

It's 2024. We can own up to our mistakes and be okay.

I think Tommy is great for Buck. I just wish people would stop acting like he's a saint who has never done anything wrong because they're in a relationship. The relationship is a historical moment for television. I don't want them to ruin it by doing what most casually racist people do, and act like it never happened.

It's okay for someone to not be perfect. It's a fictional show, you'll be okay.

There are some people genuinely attacking other people online for holding any criticism against Tommy and it's giving very-no offense-Swiftie energy. You can like Taylor as an artist and acknowledge she made a whole ass documentary about wanting to be on the right side of history and then fails to speak up for any issues that didn't directly affect her or her image or her profits. It's white feminism.

I don't know if there's a word for white feminism like behavior for white queer characters...? But that is frankly what's happening and needs to stop because it's already gone too far.

***Please be kind in any replies or you will be blocked. I have no energy to deal with people who have the emotional capacity of an almond. <3

[ashxllbey]

Poe Dameron x Fem!reader - Mortal Peril (Starman One Shot)

GIF by redheadspark

Word count: 1.3k Warnings: fluff, one or two 'idiots', otherwise none. A/N: Hello there. First of all, thank you for the love on the last chapter. Unfortunately, this is not a new update, as I'm still working on it. But! This is a 50 subs celebratory one-shot, taking place before last chapter, as a thank you for your support. Regarding updates - while I appreciate your enthusiasm regarding this fic, I'm extremely busy and I don't have a lot of free time. Those of you who follow me on AO3 might know that I'm a resident. I'm currently in my ICU rotation and I can't sit down and focus on a 10k chapter, though I would like to. So, please, be patient, and don't 'please update' me. Polite messages are always okay, though! That being said: I'm totally open to writing OS for our two favorite idiots (since it doesn't require nearly as much energy). If there's anything in particular you'd like to see, feel free to message me! I'll keep working on the next update in the meantime. Stay safe, I appreciate y'all!

Taglist for Starman (omg mom look at me, I have a taglist now! Message me to be added/removed):

@a-rose-of-amber​