#So I think if anyone’s allowed to throw some shade it’s him

[ssreeder]

Bato took a bite of food and grinned, “You will like Chang, he is one of the good ones.”

one of the good ones, thanks bato you racist ass (affectionate)

in Batos defense….

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: NSFW, dubcon, yandere, bully/mean Gojo

gn reader - fem clothing

“Summer did you good, didn’t it?”

Your ears grate at the familiar voice. So smug you can feel the smirk before turning around to see it in all its pearly glory. 

“Leave me alone, Gojo.” You sigh, taking your drink before trying to slide passed him.

But he stands close – too close, still in the intimate club – so close his thigh brushes yours where you sit on the bar stool. “I’ll leave you alone… if you make it worth my while~”

Your nose scrunches. “Gross. I’d sooner fuck a curse.”

His smile doesn’t drop despite your insult. “I’ve got six eyes, you know…  You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

Your eyes narrow, biting out a “What?” and his smile becomes a chuckle. 

“Short skirts and tight tops. Sitting here all alone.” His black shades dip when he looks down his nose at you, a knowing look in his loud blues. “You’re fishing- and lucky you got me hooked.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you smack your teeth. “And now I'm throwing you back out to sea.”

You try again to hop off your seat, but he leans a hand against the bar and traps you there.

“Who’re you dressin’ up for then, hm?” He continues, getting in closer, bearing down until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering, “You know~  all guys are pigs. I guess you’re happy being slop in a trough.”

You put a hand on his chest, but it doesn’t budge him – and when he leans back again on his own, he flashes an even wider grin at you.

“I mean, hell- If I knew you were such a needy slut, I’d mercy-fuck you sooner- shoulda just said so-”

“Shut up.” You snap.

He tilts his head, feeling undeterred – actually, the opposite, offering another snicker. “Oh? Grown some balls under that skirt, too, hm?”

You make another grimace at his crudeness, deliberating throwing your drink in his face.

“What? A couple of compliments and free drinks, and suddenly, you think you’re too good for me?”

You’re reminded of the gap in your rank – why you should hold your tongue.

You sigh – defeatedly now. “Just leave me alone, Gojo-”

But he’s not done having his fun. 

“You’re nothing.” He flicks his tongue off his smile. “You’re a curseless loser- and you don’t have to have six eyes to see it.”

Hints of hurt flicker through the anger on your face, and your scowl wavers – turning into a pout while you look up at him, trying to hold it together. His grin spreads when he sees it, and his words grow colder, cutting deeper.

“Don’t kid yourself- only reason anyone’s lookin’ at yah twice s’cause it’s real hilarious watching your pathetic ass think you’re anything but a-”

“I get it.” You cut him off, voice weak. “You’ve made your point…”

You slide off your stool, squeezing past him with your head bowed to hide the tears welling in the corner of your eyes – threatening to slip if you waited a second longer.

But before you’re able to disappear into the crowd, you’re stopped once again by a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Before you go, just know… if you ever decide to dress up like a little slut again- I’ll take it as an invitation.”

The tears slip while you look up at him. 

He takes a second to admire it before letting go. Watching you rush out.

You stand outside in the cold and catch your breath. Wiping your cheeks with hitched cries before a jacket is slumped over your shoulders.

“I don’t think I wanna roleplay this anymore, Toru- It’s too much-” You sniffle, curling yourself against his chest with tiny fists balled in his shirt.

“I know-” He coos, wrapping his arms around you while resting his chin off the top of your head, swaddling you. “But it makes me so fucking hard. Feel-” He groans, rubbing his fattened groin into your stomach.

“I’m not in the mood anymore-” You whine in return, trying to nudge him and his boner off.

But he keeps you in his arms, hugging you tight, a whine escaping his own lips. “No- please don’t. Don’t leave me all blue-balled, angel. Please~”

“You’re so selfish.” You pout, allowing it.

“Yeah~ I’m the worst~” He agrees with a snicker, releasing you – holding your hand as he begins leading you to the car, a hurried spring in his step. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You’re not even listening.” You argue, getting dragged along.

He places you against the door. “Please, I need you. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” He moans hotly while kissing up your neck – fiddling for the keys in his pocket before unlocking and popping open the back seat. 

You don’t fight him, getting overwhelmed when he lays you down – his kisses never-ending and hunting for all those soft spots he knows make you weak. 

“Can’t believe people dare look at you-” He breathes, almost in a growl, lifting your thighs up around his torso while nestling between them. Rocking his bump against the thin lace of your panties. Voice growing more and more rowdy. “I oughta go back in and level ‘em all.”

He sucks a hickey into your neck, then a small ring of teeth on your collar. You whine at the bruising but don’t do anything to make him stop. Instead, your small hands reach out to his belt – unbuckling it and unbuttoning him, tugging his pants down until they bunch around where he’s knelt.

He makes the last liberties and finds his place between your thighs with a sigh.

“Buncha small-fries… everybody knows you’re mine.”

You sit in his lap when you’re done. Naked with your dress bunched around your midriff. Nips stiff and perky – too cute to ignore, so every now and again, he bows his head to give them a kiss or two. It never fails to make you squeal.

“You think you can fit into your old school uniform?” He mouths against you, licking kisses from your chest up to your neck – sucking your cheek before placing a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. “I wanna poor milk on yah like I used to~

He’s always so clingy after cumming. You try and wrench away from the neediness, but it’s obvious you don’t give it much effort – mostly just scrunching your face. “You’re such a jerk.”

He hums in agreeance, and you feel his smirk through his kisses and then in his laugh. “Don’t cry, it’s not the type of milk you’re thinking of.”

You blush at the comment, ushering out a curt “Pervert.”

But he only pushes, moaning out a “Please~” while kneading your hip and rubbing your thigh – pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling you with eyes closed and mouth open.

So clingy, you feel embarrassed and ticklish under all the attention. Shaking your head. “It won't fit- it’s years ago-”

He pouts with a grumble. But it doesn’t take long before the smirk returns, inching back onto his lips. “I bet you’d fit in mine, though~”

You grow even more shy at the suggestion. “You’re so weird.”

He only laughs. “And you’re so in love with me~ which means you’re even weirder. Hah, loser?”

You frown at the nickname, again making an effort to twist away from the myriad of kisses and lovebites. “You’re insane.”

But he catches your face in his hand. Squishing your cheeks and turning your head to look back at him. “Damn right, I am.” He agrees, then turns it into a playful threat. “So you’d better never leave me. ‘You think I was a bully in school? Just imagine what a nightmare I’d be now. I’m a god; I’d get away with anything.”

You giggle at his silly dramatics. 

“You laugh, but I’m not joking.” He continues, still with your face in his hands. His big round eyes peeled. “I wouldn’t just stalk and terrorize you. I’d destroy your life if you ever left me. I’d make you lose your job, your apartment, your friends, your clan- I’d make sure you had no one left to turn to, nowhere left to run but right back to me.”

Your giggles die down, leaving a small smile playing on your lips before you press them softly against his. 

“And here I was thinking you’d just settle for sending creepy letters…”

He chuckles under his breath, “Childsplay.” Then kisses you again – this time a little longer. Giving your cheeks a squeeze before releasing you softly. Resting his forehead against yours with your noses touching.

His voice is a little more solemn now, genuinely serious this time. 

“But you would never leave me, right?”

The wet traces of his kisses cool in the absence of his lips while his thumbs feather your flesh so delicately. Holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the entire world.

You tilt your head and kiss him again – chastely and sweet.

“Never.”

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[jolalibrary]

iii. build me furniture

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter three of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

chapter warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. illusions to smut. frankie builds you furniture, and like that deffo needs a warning.

an: thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for letting me bother you countless times about this.

wordcount: 3.7k

He knows he should check the calendar, but he doesn't.

Frankie, instead, throws his hat on the seat, phone into the cup holder, and shoves the key into the ignition before sparking his vehicle to life. Waiting, and waiting, until he hears the distinct beep of his phone connecting before his finger is seeking your name on the dash, pulling out of the car park.

The dial tone echoes through the bed of his vehicle. The silence between each allowing the sound of tyres crunching the road to fill his ears until your voice soon plugs the quiet.

It’s heavenly, all sweet, layered ever so slightly by an edge of sarcasm—What do you want, Morales?

After some back and forth, a slight deviation in his journey, you’re buckling yourself in beside him. His hat in your lap, your perfume filling the car as he pulls away from the front of your house.

He hopes it soaks into the fabric—clings to the interior of his car. A thought, he suspects he shouldn’t have, but allows to swirl and twirl in his mind all the same.

“Bit spontaneous of you, Mr Calendar.”

Shifting in his seat, he checks the mirrors, watching from the corner of his eye as you did your usual. It starts with checking his glovebox, for what—he’s never quite sure—to closing the vents, to fiddling with the station or volume of his radio.

If it were anyone else, he’d kick up a fuss. But, not you—never you.

“I can’t believe you was gonna ask someone else to take you to IKEA.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat—eyes doing that thing. Where they warm him, sizzle his skin under his clothes. “I wasn’t asking anyone, I was asking Will.”

“Still.”

“I thought you were busy. Your calendar was blocked out.”

“So, you’d have asked me first if I was free?”

It leaves his tongue teasingly, and a part of him means it as such. But another, a darker-tinged part—one forever covered in shade, where things fester, and happiness has wilted—means for it to be tainted with bitterness. The embers of jealousy brimming, licking, nipping at the words as they filter out into the air.

“You’re my best friend, Frank. Of course, I’d rather go pick out an entryway table with you.”

“Good job my day opened up then, isn’t it?”

You only hum. It being followed by a smooth, almost comforting silence that falls across the vehicle as he drives. His elbow leaning on the door, fingernails tapping against the window to the beat of a song which thrums through him.

He can’t help it, but his eyes flit back to you—finding you staring out the window, lips moving, whispering along to the words of whatever song filled the truck.

And he shouldn’t think it—shouldn’t even entertain the thought—but fuck you are something.

His hand gripping the steering wheel as the thought undoes itself, it opening itself up within his chest, releasing butterflies and confetti that, in time, will fall absently to the base of his stomach. Because—

“I don’t want anything too big,” you announce suddenly. Your head turns, rolling on the seat as you lift your leg up, present, but eyes unfocusing as you think. “Just near the wall, where the chest currently is—think it’ll look nice.”

Swallowing, he nods. “It will.”

He’s not sure what to do with the way you smile. The way you beam. Illuminating the world on what is already a nice sunny day, adding something extra to it. So, he does nothing. Letting the vehicle fall into silence again. Your foot occasionally taps the floor, muttering lyrics as he lightly thuds his fingers against the roof until he enters the parking lot, hunting for a space.

Frankie has been here countless times.

For his place, for yours—for ex-partners who over-romanticised a trip here. But, it was furniture. A warehouse full of pre-arranged rooms and ideas, accessories flowing out of bins and plants swirling around light fixtures in a zone they try to make look close to a jungle.

“You know what you’re looking for?” he asks, walking in step with you.

Shaking your head, you nudge him with your elbow. “Good job your day opened up, right?”

Nudging you back, he turns on the spot—facing you, walking backwards. “Shotgun pushing the trolley.”

“You’re such a big fucking kid, Morales.”

And, he’d let his cheeks burn under your words, but he sees the look on your face. The unfiltered delight, how it glides from you and lands straight in the centre of his chest.

He’d scribbled the aisle number on the piece of paper three zones previous.

Your fingers had been running over the display table—a little smile etching itself across your cheek as he flicked up the paper, writing the information he needed.

“The pencil looks tiny in your hand.”

Smirking, he stuck it behind his ear before poking your side. “It’s a tiny pencil.”

When you look at him, you’re smirking—a thought running, all restless in your mind. He can tell. Can practically hear your mischievous wheels turning in your brain.

“We done?”

“Nope.”

The ‘P’ pops intentionally, your body turning to face him, hand on the base of the cart—walking backwards, an unreadable smile spreading out over the place your smirk had just lived.

“Need candles, plants—and I would really love your opinion on a new throw cushion.”

“Fuck. Maybe I should have let Will bring you,” he grins, nudging the cart into your side as you laugh sarcastically.

If he was honest with himself, Frankie knows he’d spend all day in here with you. Get to play house in your two’s weird, twisted way.

Because he'd liked it earlier when you called him to come and look at a display kitchen, hand pretending to fry the plastic eggs in the pan as you tell him to check the fridge for OJ. From the twinkle in your eye, you liked it when he called you honey and asked if you wanted to watch the sports channel with him—you hovering in the doorway of the display living area, shaking your head.

If anything, though, it made the knot in his stomach tighten.

The one that’s been loosening and binding since the moment in your kitchen, the moment in his, the bedroom and your sofa.

“Frankie, c’mere.”

Pushing the trolley, he finds you—of course—in a sea of shelves filled with candles. Various shades, an array of scents, some more overwhelming than others, as you lift a left and then a right to your nose, before jutting your head.

“Smell this.”

Lifting the candle to his nose, he inhales, watching you—before his face scrunches, yanking his head back as you burst into laughter. It flows out from your throat to your eyes, nose scrunching, hand clasping his forearm as you lean into him, muttering in half-breaths and laughing that it’s awful, right?

The scent is, but the moment isn’t.

Composure sets in, wiping the joy from your face gradually as you place another back. His hand finding one, a white pot—simple, plain, glass. Lifting it to his nose, he’s immediately transported to your place. A candle he smells so often, it unlocks a host of memories that suddenly balloon inside of him—pulling a smile across his lips, before he tilts it to your face, watching your fingers wrap around his wrist, gently, softly.

“This is the one you usually buy, right?”

Flicking from the candle to him, he almost loses his breath. More so when you let a different smile grace your lips, one that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Y-yeah. It’s my favourite.”

Nodding, he forces a swallow, before he puts it in the bag inside the trolley—your brow arching, smile fading. “It’s mine too.”

“You burn candles?”

Smirking, he tilts his head, he grabs another, and another. “What? I don’t strike you as someone who burns candles?”

“No, Morales. You seem like someone who’d accidentally burn their house down.”

“Yeah, maybe. But, maybe I can buy these and keep them at yours.”

If you’re conflicted, you don’t show it. Staring for a second, and another, until you shrug. Something there, desperate to glide over your cheeks, but he knows whatever it is, it’s forced back. He can tell.

It’s a thing he’s about to point out and poke fun at you for—especially when the two of you haven’t stopped staring. Focused. Entirely too much, if the next second is anything to go by. Because you clear your throat, avert your eyes, turning—rather quickly—not seeing it, the other shopper’s trolley full of poorly stacked packages.

And it’s instinct, he thinks. Tells himself.

The way his mouth curls around your name, but his arm is already reaching out. Fingers first, then palm, until he’s wrapping his forearm around your waist and pulling, twisting you into him. His other hand all quick to follow his movements, grasping your shoulder with the other until your body is flush with his—head, avoiding the other person’s trolley full of long boxes.

Your gasp hits his ears, as your eyes land on him.

They’re wide, wild—painted in surprise, fright and amazement. Your pupils having swallowed all the colour—until you blink, and he realises his chest is falling and rising in tandem with yours.

“Should look where you’re going, querida.”

If at all possible, your eyes widen. His fingers release your shoulder, hovering, half-tempted to brush his knuckles against your cheek—but he drops them to his side.

Even if all he thinks is: this is nice—holding you this close.

It pulsating within him, until he lets go. Watching you step back—eyes still on him, all unreadable and surprised.

“We should…”

“Yeah. Let’s,” he replies, quickly.

Pushing the trolley in the direction you’re heading, feeling his cheeks burn, his ears following not that long behind.

Fuck he looks good.

Your mouth goes dry for the billionth time in the last five minutes. Having already found yourself needing the reminder that you have a glass in your hand—even more so when he looks up at you from his place knelt on the floor.

The two of you had chosen to also buy a set of drawers to match—ones that would fit in the corner, and store the six thousand candles you own. As though he hadn’t played a part in why that amount had grown.

“You listenin’ to me?”

Not at all. “Hmm?”

“Where’s the toolbox I made up for you?”

It’s easy to let your face fall into a two-step. For your brow to arch as his question pulls it, and your lips slide into your cheek. “Wherever you left it when you made it me.”

Your name falls from his lips—satiny, yet laced with disappointment—as he slowly gets up, leaving his spread-out instructions, many screws, and bits and bobs he’d laid out before he could even attempt to build it.

Frankie has always been more sensible—more structured. You’d witnessed him build things before, always following the same pattern, the same checks he’d do—to the point you wonder if he has an order when he flies. Whether he has a to-do list in his head he has to run through, one that doesn’t beat to the same drum as what is needed, but rather a curated one by him, just for him.

By the time he’s back, you’ve downed half your glass, finding—like the last—it does nothing to quench you. Not in the way you’d hoped, least of all when he removes his hat, throws it to the sofa, and you see the dampened edges of his curls.

Your brain betrays you. Reminding you—in vivid shades and high-definition, how you’d liked the feel of them in your hand. How he’d like them tugged, pulled when he was deep, his thumbs digging bruises into the back of your thighs—your hand all desperate for leverage, for something. You’d liked the home they found in his head, earning yourself the trophy of a groan that shot sparks through your already overstimulated body.

Blinking, you shake your head.

Trying to think of something, anything—

“I need to ask you something.”

His eyes lift, fixing on you as he kneels back down—all vast brown landing on you, coating you, smothering you in warmth that only he ever can.

“I’m starving, Frankie. Please, can I order us food?”

It takes a second, two at most. His face shifts into a frown before it smooths out, realisation dawning, crashing out over him.

“To say thank you,” you add, fluttering your eyelashes, face smooth.

Sighing, he licks his lips. “I’ll let you order, if you can keep your hands to yourself.”

Rolling your eyes, you move from the floor. “Yes, Morales. Because cheese dripping down your chin really does it for me.”

Grinning, he wipes the back of his hand against his forehead. “I don’t know your kinks.”

Competency, you quickly think—almost hum it. Especially when he slides another wooden leg into place—not even glancing at the instructions this time. You, your brain follows up with, immediately banishing, forcing it away, storing it in some box marked do not ever fucking open.

His grunts as he builds being added to the same box as you order the food. They’re all punchy, low—and it sparks memories which shouldn’t be present when you’re ordering food.

Not if you want to keep a level head, because you’re not entirely sure what playing field the two of you are on tonight. Prior to today, it’s all been planned—blocked out in both calendars, clear, rooted in the rules the two of you had laid.

The boundaries all spelt out.

But this, today and tonight, is now two people—two friends—who are moving to the beat of their own drum. The same two who hung out like this before the entanglement had begun, and while you know this, something else whispers around the logic.

It isn’t drowned out when you’ve ordered, or when you’re hanging in the open doorway—watching him, ogling him, basking in how normal it is that he’s here.

“Can I build something?”

Smirking, he leans back on his knees. “You can build a drawer.”

“Because they’re the most important part?”

He smirks wider, more teeth—a flicker in his eyes.

Because you know why he’s left you with drawers. Your earlier mishaps with furniture building had set a rule that you should be nowhere near a hammer, nails or flat-pack furniture—especially if you wanted it to be usable.

“Or, you can pass me the bits I need,” he offers.

Simpler, you swear you hear him think.

So you do. You pass each tool, each fixing. Watching in awe as he slowly ignores the paper, not even bothering to turn the pages as the thing slowly becomes an entryway table—a thing which you can store and put things on.

In the time he builds, your face aches from smiling, and your stomach hurts from lack of food and laughter. So much so, you don’t realise the time until the pizza arrives—him standing, all but trying to force money into your hand until you kick him in the shin.

By the time the two of you are back on the floor, the box open, scent immediately filling your home, he’s still complaining.

“Bet I have a bruise.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. Eat ya damn pizza, Morales.”

Grinning, he takes a messy bite.

And you know what you said earlier. Are distinctly aware that the thoughts you’re having are crossing all sorts of lines, even if the two of you never specified rules. Because, you want to trace your tongue over his chin, catch the sauce that’s sat there, climb into his lap, grind your lap into his—

“You’re staring.”

Blinking, you swallow. “Forgot what an animal you are when you eat.”

“You’re rude, y’know that?”

Grinning back, you take another bite. Aware of the way he’s staring now. Feeling the way it runs up and down your body, your fingers brushing against your thumb to remove the dust.

Clearing his throat, he averts his eyes. Focusing on a spot on the floor, toying with taking another bite. You’re so close to asking him why, when his mouth opens, and something falls out you don’t expect:

“You think friends build each other furniture?”

You pause because it’s unexpected. A warmth floods your cheeks when he lifts his stare back to you. Waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

Clearing your throat, you lean back, palm pressing into the floor—rooting you, keeping you stable. “Well. I was gonna ask Will, remember?”

He says nothing. Doesn’t even move to eat the last two bites of pizza in his hand.

“I think friends as good as us,” you say, needing to fill it—the silence, “can do lots of things together, and still be able to…”

“Reap the awards of unlocked benefits?”

“Exactly,” you manage to croak.

Feeling it again. The way the air thickens. Something charging, all electric, lightning and thunder.

“I meant it earlier—about asking me.”

“Your calendar is rather full, Frankie.”

Wiping his hand on the box, he shoots a smile. “Nunca estoy ocupada para ti.”

Your smile pulls itself across your face, chin dipping, ears warming. It settling, the meaning of his words, sweltering in the tension that seems to double until you ask if he’s done. Excusing yourself, mumbling about tubbing up the rest. Letting him continue, not much left anyway, he’d said. It’s why you take longer, tidying—putting things away that have lived on your counters forever.

Because this is new and foreign. All of it.

The way things are flowing inside of you, bubbles of feelings you want to ignore but find them rising up in the sea that’s suddenly ever-present and just fucking there.

“I’m done.”

Your hands spread over your kitchen counter, taking in the cold of them—the feel of them—as you let a big breath fill your chest. Whether for courage or strength, you weren’t sure. But it fuelled you to turn to face him, but not quite enough to settle the fluttering in your stomach as you walk back to him in the living room—finding him standing, admiring it.

Just like you should be.

But your eyes are on something else—someone else.

Lingering up and down. Seeing him differently, things all mixed up inside, jumbled, out of sorts.

“It looks good,” you whisper, aware your voice has dropped an octave.

Even more aware that your shoulder is close to his, a gap barely there between the two of you. And it’s hard not to stare at him. To not marvel at him. How he’s soft and muscular, firm and strong—how you’ve seen his arms flex when he’s between your thighs and when he’s building your furniture.

Licking your lips, you don’t blink when his head turns, and he meets your stare.

You don’t fight the way your eyes drop to his mouth.

Instead, you just move into it. Slanting your mouth over his, tongue brushing over his bottom lip as your fingers slide around his neck, burying themselves in his curls as you become aware that his arms are around your waist. Then, you’re kissing him hard, dizzying.

Heat, all bubbling and ferocious, grows inside of you—spreading, beginning at the base of your spine, until it’s curling up and around everything it can to lick at your throat. Every sense, nerve and thought orienteering and honed in on him. How his body feels pressed against yours, how his mouth feels on yours.

“Frankie,” you moan.

It escapes, his name passing your lips as he buries the sound with a groan of his own. But, you've opened the gate—it flung open now, more escaped syllables and letters following it.

Want you.

Wanted you all fucking day.

Think about you all the time.

Your fingers slide up the front of his t-shirt, darting the tips of them over his stomach, resting your palm against his hip as he walks you back to the wall—stability needed as his hips find yours.

Dios mío, eres tan sexy.

The words have barely washed over you, when you feel his fingers under your chin, lifting your chin, forcing you to hold his stare. Proving a chance to back out. A momentary break.

A get-out to keep the night friendly, rather than whatever the two of you now call the thing you do. But, if anything, you want—

“Bet that pencil would look real small next to your—”

“Shh,” he whispers, cutting you off.

His grin spreading, all large and not easily contained or bit back—ghosting it over yours, the tip of his nose tracing yours.

His fingers sliding further up your neck, his thumb catching your chin and the fire in his eyes almost makes you forget how to think, never mind breathe.

“Really want to fuck you on your new table.”

“You think IKEA build furniture to support how we do it?”

He ponders, you can see it. Sweeping his eyes up and down your frame. The maths running, there suddenly an array of equations in the blown pupils of his eyes as his fingers circle and swirl on your neck and hip. “If I break it, I’ll replace it.”

“You’ll be doing that forever, Morales.”

You see it bloom, his cockiness. It swallowing whatever remainders there were of the shy friend you used to know, replacing him with the cock-sure person who regularly makes your thighs shake and your brain empty.

“Building furniture gets you going, does it?”

The hand on your hip drops, finding a place along the tops of your thighs—and even through your jeans, you can already feel him. The strokes of lightening up and down your body, the way he makes you become putty.

The point is proven when he slides his hand between your thighs, a gasp escaping, easily kissed from your tongue by his lips.

“Not usually,” you whimper, his ministrations halting. “Just you building it. Apparently.”

And fuck, you swear you’re swallowed by lava, from both the look he shoots you and the way his mouth crashes back to yours.

chapter three ->

[vintagesuga]

☆Skz and Your relationship

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Ot8 Stray Kids/ gn! Reader

Warning: none

Summary: How private Stray Kids would be with your relationship. With both Stay and the members.

a/n: I didn't know how to title this, so I'm just rolling with it. 👍🏻

Chan will want to take things cautiously. He would always put your needs before his and if that means not telling anyone he is dating you, then so be it. He would totally ask if it's ok if he tells anyone and if you tell him no, he will respect that. If you are comfortable with people knowing then Chan would only tell the boys. He would prolong telling the media and Stay just because he knows how hard it can be being in the spotlight. Plus he would never want to willingly subject you to all the hate and shade some people throw their way. He wants only the best for you and your guy's relationship. Because this man is absolutely in love with you and never wants to lose you.

Minho would definitely put off telling people about your relationship only because he wants you all to himself. He doesn't necessarily want the media knowing so he will fight tooth and nail, however long it takes, just for your relationship to be private. He just feels like this is the one thing he is allowed to keep to himself. He definitely told the members once you were okay with it because he loves them and he loves you. He wants the people he loves most to be friends so that way he can rant and rave about his wonderful partner. He literally can’t shut up when your name comes up in conversation. Heart eyes and lovesick smile 100%. He doesn’t care if anyone teases him, he is just so in love with you.

Changbin would be like Minho to some degree. He would want to tell the members right away only for the simple fact that he wants them to know how amazing you are. Literally will talk anyone's ear off about how much he loves you. He would like to keep the relationship private from the media and Stay just because he knows they can be ruthless sometimes and he wants to protect you from that for as long as possible. He would ask once if you were ready to publicize your relationship and if you told him no he would wait for you to come to him. He definitely doesn't want to rush it. He has chosen you to be his one and only and he will stick beside you no matter what.

Hyunjin would tell the members right away, even before you two officially start dating. I just feel like he is very open with them. He wants to have an outlet to gush about his partner so for sure the first ones to hear about you were the rest of 00’ line. He would just be so proud to show you off to anyone who asks (and to who doesn't ask). This boy doesn’t let Stay know until he wants to. Hear me out, poor baby had it ruff in the past, going on hiatus. So because of this, I feel like he takes extra care not to accidentally blab about you on live. Even if he really wants to, he just doesn’t want to go through that again. He also loves you too much to lose you.

Jisung would 100% tell all the members the moment you start dating. It was never going to be a secret from them. I feel like when he is in love with someone he would just end up linking everything he does or sees with his partner. They're making a love song and Jisung automatically thinks of you. He sees something cute at a shop, he has already bought all the variations for you. Since he is so open with the members it was only a matter of time before he let it slip to Stay. He would be live and one of the boys would mention your favorite show or something similar and Jisung would automatically be like “Oh yeah me and (Name) just finished rewatching it.” His whole life flashes before his eyes right then and there.

Felix is just like Jisung. He is so in love with you that he just has to tell the members. It’s a necessity rather than a want. Every other word out of his mouth is your name, and he is constantly texting you and calling. He is so sweet and caring he just wants to make sure you know he loves you, since it's hard to see each other sometimes due to his tight schedule. On a live someone asks where he got a piece of clothing or jewelry and without missing a beat he would go, “(Name) got it for me, their so cute.” Felix panic ends the live, and immediately texts you a string of apologies. Only after you guys talk does he do damage control with the company and Stay.

Seungmin’s personal life is an enigma and he will make sure it stays that way. He is determined to keep you to himself and out of the public eye. He is just someone who doesn’t want all of his life publicized, and rightfully so. Sometimes he does feel bad when you guys can’t go on regular dates or post about each other, but you reassure him that you are fine with the way things are. He is so sweet too. His family knows about you but he just never got around to telling the members. They find out when you show up at the dorm with like a pair of Seungmin’s shoes or something. They're like “WTF YOU’RE HIS WHAT NOW!?” Stay definitely doesn’t find out until you guys are like married or something.

Jeongin is also cautious. He tells the members only after maybe a month or two into the relationship when he is certain that it's serious. He would want someone to give him advice because I feel like he would be scared to mess anything up. He isn’t one for voicing it but you could just tell that he is so in love. He buys things that remind him of you and treats you so kindly, soft baby. He wouldn’t tell Stay right away either but he would want to tell them at some point in your relationship. He loves you and he loves Stay so he would want to share you with them and them with you. He is just so sweet it melts your heart, you couldn’t possibly deny him anything.

©️vintagesuga Do not repost.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hazbin Hotel Beach! Headcanons

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Nifty, Lucifer, Adam, Cherri

A/N: Hey guys! I am just so ready for summer to come so I can relax on the beach… so i thought it would be fun to do some beach headcanons for our favorite sinners!

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Definitely the one that organized this entire beach day.

Though this is supposed to encourage relaxation, she is sort of stressed making sure that everyone gets along. 

Very adamant that everyone wears their sunscreen.

Drags Vaggie into the water to play around and try to find fish.

Makes sure everything is as perfect as it can get. Snacks? Check. Tons of water and drinks? Check. Umbrellas and tents? Check. Speakers? You bet!

Once she tires herself out, she takes a very well-deserved nap in the sand.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Spend the trip making sure that Charlie finally gets a day to relax and not worry so much.

The second anyone tries to splash her or throw sand at her, a full blown beach battle ensues.

Will definitely be the one to dig holes in the sand and see how deep she can make it.

Was planning on relaxing and sunbathing, but gave in to Charlie's begging to go swimming (and actually enjoyed it a lot).

The second Charlie takes a nap, Vaggie will guard her to make sure that nobody disturbs her needed sleep. 

Makes sure to put more sunscreen on Charlie while she’s asleep so she won’t get burned.

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

This man is allergic to the sun.

Like, he’s covered from head to toe in sunscreen, wearing far too much clothing given the fact that he’s at the beach, and hides in a beach tent for the entirety of the day. 

Angel thought it would be funny to toss some sand into his tent until Alastor sent one of his shadows after him and he ran away screaming.

Like… Why did he agree to come??

He does enjoy listening to some of the music that Charlie plays until he realizes that it’s coming from a phone and not a radio (Al, who the fuck brings a radio to the beach?).

The only person that he lets come into his tent is Niffty, because she just over exhausts herself and takes a nap in the shade.

🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:

Definitely the life of the party.

Is wearing the most stylish bikini and the cuntiest sunglasses, just a total beach diva.

Though Charlie insisted that the only drinks allowed were water and soda, Angel manages to sneak a couple bottles of Beelzejuice so he and Husk can actually have some fun.  

Builds sand castles with Cherri Bomb, gets extremely upset if somebody messes it up.

Absolutely demolishes the competition in a game of beach volleyball (Having 6 arms comes in handy). 

Also wins any sort of swimming contest that Vaggie challenges him to (Again, 6 arms really gives you an advantage).

Definitely sees some cute guys and fake-flirts with them to get Husk’s attention.

♥️🥃Husk🥃♥️:

He’s a cat demon for a reason, any time Angel tries to drag him into the water, the hairs on his back rise and he hisses in disdain. 

The group eventually gives up on trying to get him to swim, letting him relax in the sand instead.

Drinks almost all of Angel's alcohol stash and passes out in the sand, curled into a purring ball, wings protecting him from being burned.

Angel takes a picture of him like this, and when he later finds it in Angel’s room he threatens to kill him if he doesn't immediately get rid of it (secretly thinks it's sweet that angel cares enough to hang a photo of him in his room.)

After much begging, he agrees to play beach volleyball with Angel, Cherri, and Vaggie. He absolutely sucks and gets pissed if anybody makes fun of him for it (except for Angel. He’ll allow it).

Ends up carrying most of the heavy stuff after they decide to leave.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Decides to bring his Egg Bois, but ends up worried that they’ll literally cook the whole time so he makes a little hole for them in the sand to cool off. 

“Uhh.. Miss Cherri, would you like to build a sandcastle with me?” “Why? I thought we were mortal enemies, old man!” “Uh.. ummm… because I’m asking EVERYONE to build a sandcastle with me…!”

Hangs out in the water the whole time because it’s much easier to maneuver in water than on sand as a snake. 

Built a machine specifically made to drill holes underground, somehow ends up making an entire tunnel system under the sand. This eventually leads to Vaggie walking on a particularly weak spot on the sand and literally falling into the caved-in tunnel. She was pissed off, to say the least, and banned the use of any “inventions” for the rest of the day.

Really wants to impress Cherri and join in on her volleyball game, but is way too shy. He’ll just cheer her on and admire her from the sidelines.

Loves napping in the sun -  being at the beach is like laying under one big heat lamp, so his cold-blooded self delights in it.

🪳🪡Niffty🪡🪳:

Because there are no bugs for her to kill, she will literally hunt hermit crabs for sport. It’s actually horrifying. 

Sir Pentious soon regrets building the whole tunnel system thing because Niffty starts crawling around in it and jumpscaring people at random. 

Somebody has to have their eye on her the entire time, or she will disappear without a trace and just - become one with the crabs?

Eventually tires herself out and takes a nap in Alastor’s tent (Much to everyone’s relief).

Definitely brings up the idea of going out to get a treat after, like ice cream or snow cones, which surprisingly everyone agrees with. 

Ends up sneaking a few small animals back with her to the hotel.

🍒💣Cherri Bomb💣🍒:

Thought it was lame when Charlie insisted on a “sin-free” trip, but had a little hope when Angel told her about the drinks he snuck in. Got extra pissed when she found Husk passed out with all of the bottles empty.

Was the one who initiated all of the athletic games, she just needs an outlet to blow some steam off.

When she’s not playing in the sun, she lays on her towel and makes designs on herself using sunscreen so she can have some cute marks after she’s done tanning. 

Thought it was adorable that Sir Pentious set up his towel and things suspiciously close to her because it was “the only spot where the sun coated him evenly” (Like what? Dude could not be more obvious.)

Brought a surfboard because she used to love surfing before she died and tries to teach anybody who’s willing to learn. 

Sets off one of her bombs underwater to create the biggest wave anybody’s ever seen (it ends up soaking everybody else, and she has to make it up to them by covering the ice cream bill later).

��👹Lucifer👹🐣:

Only came because Charlie insisted that it would be a good father-daughter bonding experience.

Kind of puts everyone on their toes - can they even have fun with the king of Hell watching their every move? (This helps Charlie prolong her nap - nobody wants to joke around or mess with her in front of her dad).

Tensions are high until he joins the volleyball game and shows everyone that yes, the king of Hell can be fun too.

Everyone relaxes after this, but they relax more when Lucifer shyly gives each of them a rubber duck that looks just like them. When Charlie asked him about this, he replied “I guess if they’re your friends, they should be my friends too.”

Has a huge rubber duck inflatable pool float that he brings to float around on.

Claims that he doesn’t like going to the beach, but the matching swim trunks and Hawaiian shirt that he just happened to have in his closet says differently.

🎸👼Adam👼🎸:

Has the original dad bod and will 100% flaunt it and talk about how sexy he is (nobody is listening.)

Wasn’t actually even invited, but he ended up seeing the rest of them there and hoped that he could make them miserable if he hung out just close enough to them.

Steals Cherri’s surfboard and brags about how he’s about to demolish the waves, but absolutely eats shit and will never hear the end of it.

Doesn’t realize Lucifer is there until he sees him glaring at him from a nearby tent and gets scared shitless.

Will deny it if anybody asks, but he’s secretly looking for the perfect seashell to bring back to Heaven and surprise Lute with. 

Everyone genuinely celebrates when he gets bored and finally decides to leave (cue that one duck meme “ADAM!”) 💀

[heauxvibez]

D.U.F.F

warning: none, but it's based off one of my fav movies! Enjoy!

D.U.F.F.

An abbreviation for 'Designated Ugly Fat Friend'. Often in a group of women (usually adolescents) there will be a D.U.F.F. as a means to look better by comparison.

"I'll be back, I'm going to get some fresh air. It's kind of congested in here!" Emage hollered to her friends, her voice barely audible over the booming music. They just nodded, lost in the rhythm, not really paying their friend any mind.

Emage hated parties, and constantly asked herself why she had even attended. 

Oh yeah, because my friends forced me out of my bed and dragged me here.

Yeah, she could've easily left bearing in mind that she had driven her own car there, but her conscience wouldn't allow her to leave her friends, who were most likely drunk, by themselves.

"Can you get the hell out of my way?!" she groaned, shoving past the sweaty bodies that rubbed against her, disgusted by the fact that the perspiration of the random people dripped onto her skin. Gross. The congestion was becoming too much for her and if she didn't escape the overcrowded area, she was sure she'd pass out.

After jostling pass people for what seemed like forever, she eventually found a patio. There were a few people out there drinking, conversing, sticking tongues down each others throat, but she didn't care. She was able to breathe in fresh air.

It was a mystery how her friends were able to deal with people rubbing against their bodies, invading their personal space but maybe it was just because her personal space was something she had cherished. Anyone who had even dared to pass the boundaries she had set for herself, man, they were in for a rude awakening.

Emage discarded the hair tie from her wrist, throwing her sweated-out silk press hair into a ponytail. She fanned herself, exhaling as she leaned against the patio railing. Although she hated being there, she loved the view. It was late at night so the city lights lit up the sky, and the full moon illuminated the night faultlessly.

Clearing her mind, she thought about how she even ended up being at this party. Of course, her friends dragged her here, but how'd they even get invited? It was an enormous house occupied with celebrities, whom she didn't really care for that much. She was pretty sure some of them weren't too fond of her either, being that she had cursed at a few for bumping into her, not even sparing an apology. Who did they think they were? She was well aware of who they were but there was no room for disrespect no matter who they were.

Oh. Now she recalls. Her friend Bree got invited by some famous wrestler. She forgot his full name but remembers Bree calling him Jon, or Jimmy, or maybe both, who knows. Emage wasn't surprised when her friend said the dude approached her after a match she went to. With her beautiful 4a curls delicately resting on her shoulders, doe-like brown eyes, and supermodel figure, she was sure to catch some celebrity's attention.

"Hey, duff." she heard a deep voice call from a distance, breaking her from her thoughts.

There was no way the man was speaking to her, so she continued to gaze at the night sky. From her peripheral vision, she could spot the tall figure stand next to her and lean against the railing as well.

"Hello? Duff, I know you heard me calling your name.." she shook her head, a small smile emerging onto her face. She turned her head, facing him. The young woman had been prepared to tell him off but her words became stuck in her throat.

He resembled a Samoan deity with his strong, chiseled features and full beard. His lips were a soft shade of pink, practically inviting a kiss, and his brown eyes seemed to peer deep into her soul. His white T-Shirt was basic, but it clung snugly to his body, highlighting his divine muscles. The sight of the tall man was enough to melt a popsicle stick.

As quickly as she could, she snapped out of her thoughts before he could see her sweat.

"I don't know who you are, or who you think you are, but I'm definitely not the one. My name is not Duff, so I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't call me that. Thanks," she snapped, her tone sharp.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the man's chest. He found the woman's feisty demeanor amusing, but her words didn't faze him.

"Well, since you don't know who I am," he said, throwing his fingers in the air to create air quotes. "I'm Roman Reigns, you know..WWE st-"

"Listen, I didn't come here to listen to you talk about yourself. I just wanted some fresh air away from the ignorant people at this party. But it seems I can't even get that," she interrupted, showing no interest in his self-introduction.

"Ooo, I've never met such a feisty duff," he remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

The scowl deepened on her face, a clear warning sign, but he couldn't resist the amusement of provoking the short, angry woman.

"Why do you keep calling me that? What the hell is a duff?" she demanded, her weight shifted onto her right leg, arms crossed over her chest, exuding attitude.

"You don't know?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised in mock surprise.

"Obviously not, that's why I'm asking," she retorted, stating the obvious.

"Designated Ugly Fat Friend," he leered.

"Excuse me?" her eyes widened.

"That's what Duff means; Designated Ugly Fat Friend."

What? Did he just? I know he did not just?

Emage was taken aback. He didn't even know her, yet he was tossing insults her way.

"Did you just... did you just call me fat and..and ugly?" Her face flushed with anger.

He shook his head. "No, well, yes, but a Duff isn't always about being ugly or fat, or both."

Her expression remained unchanged, so he continued. "It's about being the least attractive one in the group. You know, the one who makes everyone else look better. Don't worry, every group has one."

Throwing her hands up in the air, she faked a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Jesus, because that makes the term way less insulting."

"I'm not even sure if you're being serious about this. I mean, I'm decent... I-I'm not ugly," she stuttered. He attempted to pat her shoulder, but she quickly brushed him off.

"Of course you're not. You're cute, but your friends Bree and Asia are...sexy," he admitted, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

If she could have reached up to grab him the hair he had slicked into a ponytail and slung him over the patio railing, she would have. What was the point of him coming over here anyway? Did he want to shatter her confidence to the ground? As if she didn't already have insecurities she was trying to work on.

She lunged for a nearby drink, snatching it from the grasp of a random individual.

"Hey, I was drinking that!"

Without hesitation, she flung the contents of the cup all over Roman, the Hennessy cascading over his white shirt, leaving a nasty brown stain.

"What the hell was that for?" he bellowed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the blotch on his shirt.

A heavy silence descended upon the patio as the surrounding crowd observed the confrontation between the small woman and the towering man.

"You need to chill," he chuckled, though the anger was evident in his voice.

She responded by lifting her middle finger before swiftly turning on her heel and exiting the area.

"Oh, yeah. Real mature!" he yelled after her retreating figure.

With a frustrated groan, Roman was left with the nauseating scent of spilled Hennessy under his nose. Feeling the weight of the party guests' curious stares, he glanced up.

"What the hell are you guys looking at?" he demanded, his irritation palpable as the onlookers quickly averted their gaze, earning a devious chuckle from the WWE star.

"Stupid duff..." he muttered under his breath.

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

Umm..200 words turned into 2 million. Lol this is just going to be a plain ole writing challenge at this point. Part 2?

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx @theninthwonder

[reiderwriter]

Thoughts on unsub spencer reid fics?

Hi! I'm not sure if you wanted more of a general answer or meant this as a headcanon or gen request, so I'm just going to go purely on vibes and answer this as a question.

Spencer as an Unsub - Thoughts

Disclaimer: Anything negative said here is absolutely not an insult towards any specific writer or fic. I don't really read unsub Reid fics, due to facts I'm about to get into, so I'm really not knowledgeable enough to be throwing shade 💀 This is personal opinion!

I personally would need a lot of convincing to believe in an "unsub" Spencer Reid.

In Criminal Minds, it's clear from very early into the show that Spencer is very empathetic with certain unsubs. The entire team have their own types of cases that they get more personally involved in (Morgan and cases involving child victims, JJ and apparent suicides, Emily and quote unquote battered women cases) but Spencer is the only one whose personal attachment to cases leaves him empathising with the unsub instead of the victim.

He's the only member of the team who could have seen himself committing violent acts the way unsubs do had his life veered down a different path. And, based on Spencer's background and the psychology of the show, he's probably right to be concerned.

He's a white male, at the peak of the show in his mid to late thirties, with a background of abuse and a family history of mental illness. By season four, we know he's highly skilled with a gun, and by season 12/13, we see that he can be pushed to violence when he is at the very edge of his limitations.

And then they make his character so intrinsically moral that you never question him ever again.

To a certain extent, Criminal Minds is about the perpetual cycles of abuse that human kind can inflict upon itself. Many of the unsubs were once victims, some of them perhaps still are. The heroes of the story are characters who have been able to break the cycle.

Spencer is neglected as a child. He has an absent father abandon him, a mother with schizophrenia who does physically beat him when she is having an episode. He is bullied heavily in school for his high IQ and his lack of social skills. But he is shown to deeply care for him mother and empathise with her deeply instead of coming to resent her like many of the unsubs in that situation. He resents his father, for sure, but instead turns that resentment into drive, leading him to "just keep getting more PhDs." And his personal experiences with bullying allow him to empathise with the unsubs that have gone through similar circumstances.

So I don't think canonically, Spencer is ever in danger of becoming an unsub. He deeply cares about the world and the people around him, and whilst he does have a kill count on the show, he either expresses deep remorse at having to oull the trigger, or it is in the best interest for everyone involved.

Basically, all that to say: I think Unsub Spencer Reid in fanfiction has to be written incredibly carefully, or it runs the risk of being very out of character. To be clear, I'm not too bothered about characters being slightly out of character in fics because it happens. I've probably written a lot of stuff where Spencer is OOC, too. And that's fine.

I do kind of draw the line at grabbing random unsub traits from the show and giving them to Spencer for a fic. For example, Spencer would never end up as a sexual sadist. He probably wouldn't be a spree killer, either. Not that anyone wants my writing advice, but if you're writing an unsub Spencer fic, think about his background and the profiles they generally give for the kind of signature/ crimes you're about to give him.

If this was a request, I apologise for the misunderstanding. But here's a little hint at what I might do with a general "unsub Reid" request.

☆ It would most likely take place after the events of Season 12/13.

☆ It's angst or nothing.

☆ The basic plot: Reid's headaches come back after taking a blow in the field. He tries seeking help for it but can't find any relief. On his next case, because of his chronic pain, he makes a mistake that gets his teammate, the reader, shot. The unsub escapes, but the reader falls into a coma. When it looks like reader is not going to pull through, he tracks down the unsub and beats his to death after a brawl. Massive overkill. The reader pulls through that night, and he feels no guilt for getting that monster off the street. But each time the readers health takes a turn, or they require a new surgery, he is compelled to go back out there and track down and kill another serial killer until the reader finally wakes up.

☆ I don't think it'd be very well received because there would be no morally grey smut. This is some tragic angst shit only, lmao.

☆ please don't put a request for this in my inbox. If I feel like writing it later, I might, I don't have the brain power right now, though 💀

That's all I've got right now, but I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on unsub Reid :)

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S3

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: None

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 13 - First Steps in the Fire Nation

“I think I see a cave below.” Aang observed earning a hush by Sokka. “Be quiet!” Once we landed, our cloud disguise vanished into thin air. Sokka immediately hid by a rock, looking around the place suspiciously. “Great job with the cloud camo but next time let's disguise ourselves as the kind of cloud who knows how to keep its mouth shut.” He turns his head, eyeing the birds near the cave in a skeptical manner. “Yeah, we wouldn't want a bird to hear us chatting up there and turn us in.” Toph replied sarcastically. “Hey! We’re in enemy territory. Those are enemy birds.” Sokka pointed upwards, coincidentally, many birds were resting on that rock. One commedically moves down to land on Sokka’s head, screeching at us. We all laugh breathily, making our way towards the larger cave. Sokka, still having doubts, jumps over us to land face first and looks around the cave for any enemies. I glared at him confusingly, there weren't any traces of anyone staying here. “Well this is it, this is how we will be living till the invasion begins.” Sokka explains. “Hiding in cave, after cave, after cave…after cave…” Sokka gradually laced his tone with dread, putting his head down in exhaustion. “Sokka we don't need to become cave people, what we need is some new clothes.” Katara explained. “Yeah, blending in is better than hiding out. If we get fire nation disguises, we would be just as safe as we would be hiding in a cave.” Aang adds on. “Plus, they have real food out there, does anyone wanna sit in the dirt and eat cave hoppers?” Toph leans back against a rock, throwing her fist back against the cave which unleashed a few cave hoppers. “Looks like we got voted out of the sport.” Sokka looks at Momo munching on the insect, displeased with the idea of eating cave hoppers. “Let's get some new clothes.” Sokka said. “Now where would we even get new clothes? We can't go to the fire nation for new clothes.” I spoke up, leaving the group to think. “I have an idea.” Katara announced.

  ҉   ☾

Us 5 pops out of a small hill of magma, looking at someone's clothes hanging on a wire, clearly out for drying. “I don't know about this…” Aang said uneasily. “These clothes belong to somebody.” “I call the silk robe!” Katara immediately leaps forwards, out of our hiding spot. Determined to get the robe. “I call the cloak.” I happily said, following right behind Katara. Everyone got out of our hiding spot and started running around to find something we liked in the racks of drying clothes. I gathered all the clothes that I wanted, mainly ones that can cover my hair since that would be a dead give away.

I move the cloak against my head, moving it a little to fully cover my hair. “Is this covering my hair?” I ask worriedly, hesitating if I should adjust it again. The cloak I was wearing was see-through until the hood, which was a gradient to a deeper shade of red. Still see-through enough to see the silhouette of the hair, hopefully not the color. “Woaahh it's like your hair is naturally black.” Toph says. “Oh thank the spirits- oh…” I look back at Toph who smiled mischievously and shrugged. I groaned and waited for Katara to finish getting ready. “How do I look?” Katara announced which made us turn to face her. “You look so pretty!” I was complimented. “You too Y/N, oh and the hood covers your hair!” Katara said, walking towards me to adjust my hood a little. “That's good!” I breathily laugh. “Uhh Katara, your moms necklace.” Aang said worriedly. Katara touched her necklace, “oh…oh yeah…” she said sadly and took it off. “Guess it's pretty obvious that I'm from the water tribe, isn't it?” She takes a last look at her necklace and stores it away. 

  ҉   ☾

I buy a sash to wrap it around my waist, which if needed could be used to cover my hair. Just in case I lose this cloak. I wait for the others to finish putting on their accessories that they also just bought. “I used to visit my friend Kuzan here a hundred years ago, so everyone just follow my lead and stay cool. Or as they say in the fire nation, stay flamin!” Aang winked and moved joyfully around. I look at Aang, somewhat confused but shrug as we all follow him. “Greetings my good hotmen!” Aang greeted a fellow fire nation member, who was equally as confused as the rest of us. “Hi…I guess…?” He replied, but moving his attention back to what he was eating. Searching where we could eat, we took a stop at a meatplace, which unsurprisingly only serves dishes with meat. “Oh… we’re going to a meat place…?” Aang said disappointedly. “Come on Aang, everyone here eats meat, even the meat.” Sokka pointed at a Hippo Cow who chowed down on the meat in front of him. Aang grimaced at the animal. “You guys go ahead, I'll just get some lettuce out of the garbage.” We waved off to Aang, silently hoping he manages to get food that's vegetarian friendly and go inside the restaurant.

“I hope Aang is okay, I feel bad that he cant find food that easily here.” Katara said, poking at her dumplings. “Aang will be fine!” Sokka said, clearly not really caring as he chomps down on his chicken skewers. Katara looks at her brother, clearly annoyed. “But still, he’s alone and…” “You talk about Aang a lot.” I tell Katara, slurping on my Noodle Soup. Closest thing to Seafood, as that's in the Noodle Soup. Katara turns a little red, clearly blushing as I giggle teasingly. “Yeah Twinkle Toes will be fine, what's the worst that can happen?” Toph said.

  ҉   ☾

“Where is Aang?” Katara said, looking around frantically. “Relax, he must be at the cave already.” Sokka said, leaning back. “Hopefully he found some food.” I said, tiredly moving towards the direction of our cave. “What if he isn't there?” Katara said. “He must be, where else would he even go?”

  ҉   ☾

“Aang isn't here.” Katara said, which leads the three of us to widen our eyes in disbelief. “He’s the Avatar, he will be okay.” Sokka tries to shrug it off, already crashing on the floor to lay down. “What if he got caught?” Katara says, holding her head in her hands. “I'm sure Twinkle toes can handle it.” Toph picks her nose to lie down next to Sokka. I picked up some sticks and rocks to light up a fire. “It's okay Katara.” I light the fire and go to sit next to Katara. “He can handle himself, it's not like he’s a baby.” I patted her back which made her shoulders go down in relaxation. “I'm sure you're right…”

  ҉   ☾

When the sun was slowly setting down, the more we all became anxious on the whereabouts of Aang. Just as I was about to start looking for Aang, he jumped down and appeared right in front of the cave. “Where have you been?” Katara asked in concern. “We’ve been worried sick!”

“I got invited to play with some kids after school.” Aang casually said, taking off his headband. His whole outfit was a complete mess along with his headband. This made Sokka stand up straight from his lying position. “After what?!” He yelled out loud. “I enrolled in a fire nation school and I'm going back tomorrow.” Aang states proudly. “Enrolled in what?!” Sokka says in complete shock and passes out back on the floor. The rest of us three looked at him with our eyes widened and mouths agape in shock.

“Aang I'm trying to be mature and not immediately shoot down your idea but it sounds…really terrible.” Sokka explains. “Yeah we got our outfits, what do you need to go to school for?” Toph asked with her usual attitude. “Every minute I'm in that classroom, I'm learning new things about the fire nation. I already have a picture of fire lord Ozai.” He pulls out a picture of the fire lord, excitedly. “And here's one that I made out of noodles!” Aang continued as he pulled out another picture, which was just as he said. Fire lord Ozai portrait made out of noodles. “Impressive I admit but I still think it's too dangerous.” Sokka said. “I guess we will never find out about the secret river then… it goes right towards the fire lord's palace, we were supposed to learn about it in class tomorrow…” Aang really knew Sokka's weakness, persuading him with information about the fire lord. Most of us would prefer Aang’s safety but not Sokka with his plan. “I am a fan of secret rivers…” Sokka pondered around, thinking of his answer. “Fine let's stay a few more days.” Sokka agreed which made Aang jump in glee. “Flameo hotman!” Aang cheered, running around happily. “Flam…eo…?” Sokka asked, weirded out by Aang's choice of words. Katara shrugged. “Now what if Aang gets caught being the Avatar, which everyone thinks is dead by the way.” I ask. Sokka shrugged at me as I gave him a deadpan expression.

The next day, we got news that Aang got himself in trouble, in just two days. “Y/N, can you play the part of a mom for Aang?” Sokka asked, which confused me. “Mom…?” 

“They need both parents available.” Sokka continued. I shook my head no. “Sorry Sokka but” I pointed to my hair comedically. “No can do! Ask Katara.” Sokka groaned in irritation “Why can't you just cover your hair?” 

“It's already odd enough for me to cover my hair in the fire nation Sokka, I want to hide my identity as much as possible.” I explained, trying to get Sokka to reason with me. “It's fine Y/N, I'll do it.” Katara said, earning a grateful expression from me. “Whatever would I do without you Katara!”

  ҉   ☾

“That settles it! No more school for you young man.” Sokka yells at Aang, brushing his fake beard. That's the first time I have ever heard that sentence before. “I'm not ready to leave, I'm having fun for once.” Aang got up, kicking a stone while walking towards Appa. “Just being a normal kid, you don't know what it's like Sokka.” Aang disappointingly said. “You get to be normal all the time.”

“Hah hah.” Toph mocked Sokka from Aang’s unintentional mean comment. “Listen guys, those kids at school are the future of the fire nation, if you want to change this place for the better then we need to show them a little taste of freedom.” Aang explains his reasoning. “And how are we ever gonna do that? Give a motivational speech about how they have freedom?” I spoke up, leaning against the rock behind me. “Close! I'm gonna throw them a secret dance party.” Aang does a little dance which made all of us look at him, dumbfounded. “Go to your room!” Sokka yelled, pointing at the wall.

Just as Aang said about him hosting a dance party, we all decided to help him out, oddly enough. I use my water bending to add ice decorations around the cave. I attempted to add fire symbols and crystal-like designs hanging from the ceiling of the cave.“This actually looks pretty, for a cave.” I put my hands on my waist, admiring my work. Hopefully it doesn't melt quickly from the heat. “You did a pretty good job. They hardly don't even look like ice anymore.” Katara complimented me, putting her hand on my shoulder. “I always see the guys do these types of decorating in my northern tribe, I'm happy I got to do it at least once.” I told Katara. “Then you should teach me.” We both giggled till we heard Toph’s announcement. “They’re coming! Everyone stop bending.” I immediately put my hands to my side to prevent me from bending. I look at the entryway seeing all these firenation children walk up in looks of worry. I sat with Katara and Toph on a table, listening to the music while drinking my drink. Watching Aang encourages the group of students to dance traditional fire nation dances with him. “Who knew twinkle toes can dance.” Toph chugged her drink and slammed it on the table. Really, who knew a boy like him would know so many traditional dances. Aang grabbed the hand of one girl and dragged her out to dance with me. I felt Katara getting irked by this, sitting up straighter to take a better look at the two. “Wow! They look pretty good together.” Sokka spoke up which earned a scoff from Katara’s part. “Eh, if that's what you like.” I silently giggled and whispered to Toph. “I think someone is getting jealous.” Which Toph snorts to. “I bet 4 pieces of silver bans if Aang comes up to Katara and- oh-” I look over to see Aang already reaching his hand out to Katara as she hesitantly accepts. I look at the crowd, seeing everyone dancing energetically. I was mainly looking for Aang and Katara however. “So Toph, my coins?” “You never finished your bet, therefore I dont have to owe you any.” I grumbled under my breath as soon as I heard her say that. “I hear the guards coming!” Toph yells, however it was already too late. The guards were in front of the cave by the time she said that. I look over to what they assume was Aang was actually a random fire nation boy wearing the same bandana as Aang. My eyes lit up in surprise as I usher Toph and Sokka to run. “They’re distracting the guards, this is our time to leave.” I whisper, running towards the back of the cave. I see Katara and Aang right behind me and once we all got away, Aang closed off the cave with his earth bending.

 ҉   ☾ All of us managed to get on Appa’s back safely. I exhaled deeply, leaning against the edge of the saddle. “We’re safe Sokka, you can take off the mustache now.” Katara reassured Sokka. He stubbornly shook his head. “Oh no I can't.” Sokka humorously said. “It's permanently glued onto my skin” He continued as he brushed the edge of his beard. “Even though it was a silly idea, your dance party changed them.” I complimented Aang. “Yeah dancey pants, I think you really did help those kids.” Toph added on. “You taught them to be free.” “I don't know, it was just a dance party. That's all.” “Well that was some dance party Aang.” Katara said, leaning in to kiss Aang on the cheek, leaving a tint of red against his cheeks. Toph and I exchanged eye contact in a shocking manner. “Flameo sir, Flam-e-o” Sokka slowly clapped in congratulations. Appa made a sound in encouragement as we continued to fly above with the clouds.

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I APOLOGIZE!! I have been busy lately so I havent had time to write but I promise yall I wouldnt never let this fic go discountinued. Anyways I hope yall enjoy and I apologize that there is like NO ZUKO. It feels like a reader insert more than an x reader, a reader that just ends up with Zuko. I think by CH 19 Zuko should be here and i cant wait to write those scenes, however I hope yall enjoy this fic. Thank you for reading and take care of yourself!! :) Also I have been trying to catch AO3 to this fic as well.

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taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish@pbeckn26@jasminesacademia @kyo-kyo1 @fl9wey @icantwaittoliveandlearn @ddottie

[darkchocolatedimples]

the tortured poets department (sponsored by my procrastination)

excuse my essays for each song the lyrics are so interesting to me so there’s like actual analyzation for each one.

fortnight - dex

that lingering resentment disguised by surface level friendship is that not literally him and sophie come on. “run into you sometimes, ask about the weather” the awkwardness!! “your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her” he was the #1 fitz hater for multiple reasons after all (although i think he was over it by the time keefe became prominent)

the tortured poets department - sophie

this is so keefe from her perspective come on “you’re in self sabatoge mode, throwing spikes down the road, but i’ve seen this episode and still love the show” “i chose this cyclone with you” “sometimes i wonder if you’re gonna screw this up with me. but you told [biana] that you’d kill yourself if i ever leave. and i had said that to [dex] about you so i felt seen. everyone we know understands why we’re meant to be.” also let’s be so real keefes drawing journals + goodbye letters, he’s giving tortured poet

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - fitz

guys he’s just a silly little boy with anger issues, and he’s MY silly little boy with anger issues stop hating him 😞 “the voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild” “he saw forever so he smashed it up” he may have fucked up but it happens!!

down bad - dex

CUZ FUCK IT HE WAS IN LOVE!!! also if i may present to you: “i might just die it would make no difference” in the context that outside of sophie saw no purpose to his own life. he saw himself just as he is presented in the books: as her best friend and nothing more. so in losing that (blaming himself and his own feelings for it) what was left of him? who was left? sophie was also his ONLY friend. not to mention in the context of the fact that when he WAS presumed dead nobody cared, they still cared more about sophie.

so long, london - keefe

no not bc of london actually but because “and you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment” is actually a direct reference to keefitz’ friendship falling apart as fitz got angrier and keefe got more closed off. “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues?” “im just mad as hell cause i loved this place” me when everglen is no longer keefes safehaven. nor anyone’s for that matter bc its haunted by alvars betrayal and alden’s mind break and fitz’ anger.

but daddy i love him - biana

“i just learned these people only raise you to cage you” “i just learned these people try and save you…cause they hate you” “dutiful daughter all my plans were laid…growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.” i hate alden vacker. how do u manage to use and fuck up all ur kids by age 12 like wow. “i’ll tell you something about my good name: it’s mine alone to disgrace” she would 100% say this. she would also 100% say “im having his baby! no im not but you should see your faces.”

fresh out the slammer - keefe

sokeefe or keefitz take it as it comes. “in the shade of how he was feeling.” “as i said in my letters.” “my friends try, but i wouldn’t hear it…for just one glimpse of his smile” “swirled you into all of my poems” it’s so him it is truly.

florida!!! - keefe

THIS one’s about london! “well me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time! yes i’m haunted but im feeling just fine” ethan and eleanor wright who?? “your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in” candle shade/shores of solace type beat “i need to forget so take me to [london], i have some regrets i’ll bury them in [london]” “i don’t want to exist so take me to [london]” aw bae

guilty as sin? - dex

i don’t know how to explain but i just feel like this feeling of i shouldn’t be doing/feeling this the literal guilt and all these delusions and the sheer intensity of it all is just giving me dex. “this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry? i dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” “i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault” this must be the way he loves if he thinks so little of himself and doesn’t let himself have good things. “i choose you and me religiously” because at the end of the day when he makes a decision or chooses something or someone he puts his all into it.

who’s afraid of little old me - sophie

“you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. you caged me then you called me crazy. i am what i am cuz you trained me.” all of it’s literally giving her growing into herself in stellarlune and making decisions on her own. SHE IS NOT A PAWN!!!

i can fix him (no really i can) - tam

idk its just giving him defending rayni with his life when everyone else including linh was like who tf is this girl.

loml - fitz

every sad pining song is fitz vacker to me. esp the refrences to the romance being dead but never buried... "still alive killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried...i'm your holy ghost" the way that sophie switched up on him in stellarlune (although i fully support her) didn't give him much time to recover. "are they second-hand embarrased that i can't get out of bed because something counterfiet's dead" give me heartbroken fitz!!! for once instead of angry fitz just give me tired, resigned fitz. "it was legendary, it was momentary, it was unecessary, should've let it stayed buried" is such a good summary of sophitz imo.

i can do it with a broken heart - linh

linh is so interesting to me as a parallel of fitz: meaning she, just like him, is always angry. however she masks it in smiles and kindness the way he never learned to, he just lashes out. this song feels like it’s talking about that mask: “i’m so depressed i act like it’s my birthday everyday” “i can read your mind ‘she’s having the time of her life’ …i can show you lies” “cause im miserable and nobody even knows” “i can hold my breath, i’ve been doing it since [i] left”

the smallest man who ever lived - keefe

it’s giving a letter to cassius/gisela/alvar. “and i don’t even want you back, i just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. and i don’t miss what we had” “did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?” “in 50 years will all this be declassified and you’ll confess why you did it, and i’ll say ‘good riddance’” “i would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. and you deserve prison but you won’t get time” “in plain sight you hid, but you are what you did. and i’ll forget you but i’ll never forgive.”

the alchemy - sophie

“cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?” aw sokeefe.

clara bow - biana

BIANA BEING COMPARED TO HER BROTHERS AND ALL THE VACKERS BEFORE THEM "the crown is stained but you're the real queen" "beauty is a beast that roars, down on all fours, demanding more...its hell on earth to be heavenly" i love her.

the black dog - fitz

bring back petty fitz!! i think the young girl not knowing the starting line could parallel with keefe not being able to understand things about telepathy that really connected fitz and sophie. i also think we could shift the angle and make it about alvars betrayal and how it sparked his angry trauma response. “you said i needed a brave man, then proceeded to play him until i believed it too.” “now i want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes…even if i die screaming, and i hope you hear it.”

imgonnagetyouback - fitz

he is 100% this delusional. he's just like me. "you'll find that you were never not mine" "even if its handcuffed im leaving here with you." "told my friends i hate you but i love you just the same, pick your poison babe, i'm poison either way"

the albatross - keefe

“one bad seed kills the garden. one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.” “the devil that you know looks now more like an angel. i’m the life you chose, and all this terrible danger.” HE IS THE ALBATROSS. i can’t wait for the movie i want edits of him to this. ACTUALLY I WANT A LOT OF THINGS maybe I’ll make a separate post about that.

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - keefe

you saw it coming. this song SCREAMS KEEFITZ. like- “you said some things that i can’t unabsorb…you needed me but you needed drugs more.” “changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules all to outrun my desertion of you.” “if you want to break my cold cold heart just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’” WHAT THE HECK DUDE IM SOBBING “back to the moment i crashed into you like so many wrecks do” that line solidified this as keefe’s pov for me. in conclusion. SOBBING.

how did it end - biana

i propose to you: not a relationship, but the vacker family falling apart and the way they became a huge subject of gossip in the lost cities. when alden’s mind broke, while fitz had turned to anger biana became depressed, and i think this song could relate to that as well. the whole part of “guess who we ran into at the shops” feels very much like conversations others would have about the vackers at the time and when alvar betrayed them. “soon they’ll go home to their [brothers], smug cause they know they can trust him.” and i think at the end of the day when all of it happened biana was just young and betrayed and lost, because she didn’t see it coming or understand why (who did?) “the deflation of our dreaming, leaving me bereft and reeling” “i can’t pretend like i understand, how did it end?”

so high school - biana

HER VIBES ALL THE WAY she’s so cute and lovely and i want this for her (and dex. specifically dex. not anyone else.)

i hate here - sophie

was leaning dex until “you see i was a debutant in another life but now i seem to be scared of going outside” but the whole idea of escapism applies to both of them. especially to sophie though when she lived with humans and was so alone because even her own family couldn’t understand her, and she canonically is a bookworm and probably found more comfort in those other lives than she ever could in her own. "I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind...i read about it in a book when I was a precious child" "ill get lost on purpose, this place made me feel worthless"

thanK you aIMee - tam

aimee 🤝🏽 the song parents. “everyone knows that my [sister] is a saintly woman. but she used to say she wished that you were dead.” “but when i count the scars there’s a moment of truth: that there wouldn’t be this if there hadn’t been you.” thank you song parents 🫶🏽

i look in people’s windows - fitz

i thought this song sounded so creepy till I actually listened to it and now the idea of like lowkey stalking someone just to see if they still care about you or have moved on is slightly making sense. "does it feel alright to not know me? i'm addicted to the if only." it's giving keefitz (when isn't it?)

the prophecy - dex

"let it once be me, who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?" THIS JUST REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF THE BEGINNING OF STELLARLUNE WHEN HES LITERALLY MOURNING WHAT HASN'T EVEN HAPPENED TO HIS BROTHER YET i need more dex being the oldest sibling and shouldering that burden. the love-hate relationship with his siblings while simultaneously trying to make their quality of life so much better than what he had. also "a lesser woman would've lost hope, a greater woman wouldn't beg" is so him. he is so that middle.

cassandra - tam

"so they killed cassandra first cuz she feared the worst...do you believe me now?" "you can mark my words, i said it first. in a mourning warning, no one heard." tam when keefe joined the neverseen fr

peter - keefe

pls tell me you saw this one coming. "are you still a mindreader? a natural scene stealer, I've heard great things [fitz], but life was always easier on you than it was on me." "promises, oceans deep, but never to keep" "forgive me [fitz], my lost fearless leader...from when we were just kids. is it something I did?" i think I'm just in a constant state of mourning their friendship.

the bolter - keefe

obvious reasons but also "i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone but her own father." "hearts are hers for the breaking, there's escape in escaping." "she's got the best stories, you can be sure, as she was leaving, it feels like freedom."

robin - dex

had to do some research for this one but apparently its talking about preserving a child's innocence! for this reason it reminds me again of dex and his siblings because of the way he really wants to protect them from things that haven't happened yet (especially considering rex being talentless). "way to go tiger" definitely sounds like something he would say to them feeling all sentimental but then, knowing siblings, they'd probably grill him about why he's being nice 💀

the manuscript -

we know the drill by now, fitz gets all the breakup songs because they could be about sophie OR keefe. "afterwords, she only ate kid's cereal, and slept in her mother's bed" while the song is discussing reverting back to childhood habits in vulnerability, fitz's vulnerability made him angry (but it was still a big change from his regular self) "looking back might be the only way to move forward" I hope he does get to move on!!! im tired of the love triangle plot if we're not gonna focus on keefitz' friendship 😭

[mylarena]

EVERYBODY shut the fuck up. coffee shop barista au. soap is a barista and this one guy comes in at the same time on the dot every day and orders the same thing every time. (its straight black coffee with so much added caffeine that soap thinks it could kill a horse.) the man is like, 6′4″ and built like a brick house. soap is a pretty big guy himself, but god does he makes him look tiny.

his hair is blond, light enough that in some lighting it looks nearly silver. it seems to be a mess constantly- wavy locks that curl around the tips of his ears, fringe just long enough to partially cover one of his eyes. just long enough that someone could reach up and tuck it behind his ear. and soap wants to, if not just to get to feel his hair- it looks so fucking soft and smooth and soap wonders what his hair care routine is. (because surely you cant get hair that good without putting work into it, right?)

his upper face is littered with scars; over the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks, under his eye. theres probably more, but anytime he shows up he has a face mask on, one with some dumb skeleton design on it that would probably look stupid on anyone else, but somehow he makes it work.

and his eyes- god, his eyes. his left eye is a brilliant shade of blue with a shock of green at the bottom, something soap has never seen before. the two colors seem to clash and meld together all at once, an enchanting phenomenon that soap wants to study. his right eye is a deep, gorgeous chocolate brown, swirled with a lighter caramel tone that brightens his eye but makes his gaze no less intense. anytime he locks eyes with soap, he loses his breath- hes never seen someone so fucking beautiful in his entire life.

his voice is low and gravelly, a deep, accented rumble that soap swears to god he can feel in his bones. the man doesnt mince his words, but every time he does speak soap can feel himself shiver. he hopes it isnt visible.

the only name he gives for his order is ghost. that isnt enough for soap. he wants his first name- his real name, a name he can place to the beautiful face that lurks in his mind. (and in his sketchbooks.)

so he tries to pry it out of the man. he offers his own name first, john mactavish, but ghost doesnt give him his own name, instead opting nod and hum. he takes to calling soap ‘johnny’, something that soap has notably refused to let anyone call him, no matter how close they are. he allows ghost to call him it, finding the heat it spreads through his body pleasant and welcoming it. gaz, his fellow barista, is disgruntled when he finds out that soap is letting someone call him johnny when he was firmly denied the permission to do so himself.

every day soap asks for a name for the coffee, hoping that one day he’ll slip and tell him, but he never does. its always ghost, you know this, johnny. he keeps trying despite the ineffectiveness.

sometimes he throws out guesses. over time they get increasingly ridiculous, trying to get a huff or a snort out of the man when he looks at his cup. whatever name he chooses is accompanied by some shitty dad joke- one time ghost had told one that was god awful, but soap could see the glee in his eyes when he groaned and complained. he sees ghost look at the writing everytime he hands over the drink, and he adores the amusement he sees dancing in his gaze at the jokes, so he keeps it up.

their banter shifts from friendly teasing to flirting constantly- oftentimes mid-conversation. sometimes its soap who does it, (”the maaask... take it off?” “show my face?” “yes.” “no.” “are you ugly?” “quite the opposite.” “i doubt that.”) and other times its ghost. (”you like tequila?” “could use one right about now.” “id murder for a whiskey.” “you mean scotch?” “i drink bourbon.” “like a good ol’ boy...” “...  i love kentucky.” “yer out o’ yer mind, ghost.” “thats for sure.”)

(gaz is this fucking close to complaining to price about the sexual tension around them. if he has to deal with soap making eyes at this customer for one more fucking minute he thinks hes going to snap.)

[freyanistics]

Comfort~

Miles Morales x Black!Reader

Angst at first but fluff at the end.

This is based off the horror short ‘The Spider Within.’

Spiders.

So many spiders crawling all over his body. One the size of his hand even managed to crawl out of his mouth. It’s pointy legs pressing down on his tongue like pin pricks. Miles wanted to throw up so bad. Feeling disgusted that thing even crawled out. Why was there so many? Why were they crawling all over him? Why why why why

After waking up in a cold sweat in his bed with his heart through the roof he realized it was just a nightmare. He could hear the horror movie his father had originally wanted Miles to watch with him playing in the living room. Clutching his chest Miles closes his eyes trying to calm himself. He had to get some air. Throwing on some random clothes he quietly opens the window slipping out onto the balcony heading down the rickety staircase. He felt paranoid from his vivid nightmare as he kept glancing over his shoulders at any shadow of movement.

He didn’t know where he was headed, just letting his feet leading him down the dark streets of Brooklyn until he reached your apartment complex. You and Miles used to go to school together until he went to Visions Academy. Despite you two no longer in the same school you still were close friends and hung out. For some reason he sought out your presence in his time of need. He just hope you’d be awake.

He quickly scales the brick wall up to your bedroom window landing on the balcony with a soft thud. Your curtains was closed as he saw the familiar light blue shades that you’ve had in your room since first grade. Reaching a hand out he lightly taps on the glass sliding door before putting his hands in his pockets nervously. What if you wasn’t home? Or your parents open the door? What could he even say on why he was at your balcony door at ten pm at night?

Just as he was about to turn to leave the curtains pull back revealing your form. You was wearing a black bonnet to protect your braids. Your light yellow pjs clung loosely on your body as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Miles?” You say opening the balcony door allowing him into your room.

“Hey, I know it’s late I just…decided to stop by.” Miles says sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. Looking around your room he noticed how it still looked the same. Figurines on your dressers, a few posters featuring your favorite bands or singers on the neutral colored walls. Your bed that was placed in the corner of the room with covers pulled back hinting you were in bed.

“Miles? Are you okay? You never came here this late before.” You ask him with hint of worry in your tone. You cared deeply for your friend and you could sense something was wrong by how he was behaving. You both have made a promise to one another that you will be open to each other no matter what.

Miles doesn’t meet your eyes opting to look at the carpet floor. Finally after a few minutes he meets your eyes and you could see bags under them.

“I just feel…stressed out. This new school my parents put me in is amazing don’t get me wrong but I don’t know anyone and just feel like a stranger. My parents want what’s best for me, to succeed in life and I want to make them proud it’s just…” he sighs rubbing his temples as you feel your heart drop.

“You feel overwhelmed.” You say softly and he nods. You understood him exactly as you have gotten overwhelmed with your own personal problems in life. In hindsight you felt a bit jealous that Miles was going to a top notch school while you stayed behind, your parents unable to afford such a school. You knew they were trying their best and couldn’t blame them but it didn’t stop you from thinking you weren’t good enough to get into that school.

Walking over you hug him making him freeze a bit before wrapping his arms around your waist. He had gotten so much taller over the year that you even joked he had to have hit puberty over night. Finally you pull away leading him to your bed as you sit down on the edge patting the spot beside you. Once he sat down you look him in the eyes.

“Miles you’re doing your best and that’s all that matters. I see it, your friends back at our school see it, and I’m sure as hell your parents see it. Things are going to get rough sometimes, believe me I know, but just know you have a good support team backing you in your corner.” You finish with a soft smile. Miles returns it looking away for a couple of minutes.

“Thank you. I really needed to hear that.” His heart was beating slowly as the memories of the dream was already dissipated from his mind. Smirking you punch his arm lightly.

“Think you can still beat me at Smash?” You ask him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “If you have a few minutes we can play a few rounds.”

Miles look out your balcony door then back at you, a slow grin appearing on his mouth. “You’re on but I’m maining Mario.” He says as you start booting up your old wii. “You always use him, even as kids.” You say groaning playfully. Even though you two were going on two different paths you will always find each other in your time of need. And that all matters.

[thetourguidebarbie]

oh my, love is a lie

for @the-road-betwixt. happy birthday. i did some recon on your favorite tropes and i hope i hit close :)

--

"Love is a lie," Caroline declared, throwing back a glass of $418 zinfandel like a shot of tequila and slumping back on the couch in Kol's exquisitely decorated mid-century modern condo. "There's no such thing as soulmates. If I can’t find mine after over a thousand years of trainwreck relationships, it's fake."

"Cheers to that, darling," Kol said, waving his own glass in the air.

"You're so lucky you're not half-wolf," Caroline grumbled.

"Love can be a lie for me too, now. Don't be racist."

"Okay, yeah, but you don't start every relationship knowing that it's probably not right and that your soulmate could interrupt at any time and completely nuke it, so what's the point of even trying."

"I ruin things just fine on my own, it's true," Kol allowed. "But I think you're being a bit fatalistic."

Caroline huffed, propping her bare feet on the coffee table and idly wondering whether painting her toenails a mopier shade would be warranted. Pale grey, the color of the dead corpse of her love life, perhaps?  "The concept of soulmates is by definition fatalistic, Kol. And that's what post breakup wine nights are for. Fatalism, derogatory!"

"You'll find him," Kol insisted, in a rare moment of genuine emotional support. "You have forever, after all."

"Yeah, I do! What if he's already dead? What if I missed him?" Caroline asked, now drunk enough to give voice to the fears that she usually kept compartmentalized in the most out-of-the-way part of her mind. "What if I didn't find him in time and now I'll never have anyone?"

"Ah, we've had enough to invite the entrance of sad-drunk Caroline. A pity."

"Shut up," Caroline whined. "You're not being very helpful."

"I like to think I've been an excellent support system," Kol said indignantly. "I've listened to you mope for centuries and haven't encouraged you to contact an ex-boyfriend once. Do you know how rare that is in this day and age? In the era of looking up your ex-husbands on linkedin because it's the only platform they've not blocked you on?"

"Well I don't have a linkedin or an ex-husband, so that wouldn't be very helpful," Caroline said, glancing at Kol, whose eyes were shifting guiltily. "What?"

"Sorry, darling," he said quickly, chugging some wine straight from the bottle.

"For what? It was a joke," Caroline said slowly, her eyes narrowing.

Kol was being. Weird.

So weird.

"But we've never talked about it," Kol said, avoiding her gaze. "Scrupulously avoided it, in fact."

"Avoided what?" Caroline asked, mystified. 

"I'd assumed it would make you upset."

"That what would make me upset?"

"Mentioning Nik."

Caroline blinked. "Who?"

Read the rest here.

[cherryluvrx3]

Okita Sougo Not SFW Alphabet

Gender-neutral reader

CW: hard sadist/masochist dynamics. He’s gross and a freak, expect the extremes. Mentions of reader getting penetrated. Mentions of him having some nasty kinks.

Do people even care about Gintama anymore??? I just started getting into it and the lack of fics is heart breaking

I don’t even like hardcore sadism (on me) tbh idk why he’s my favorite but I love him soooo much my little Princess <3

———————

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

There’s different kinds of sex that you guys have, sometimes just regular or standard stuff you’d have with any other guy but other times full on BDSM fantasies that would make 50 Shades Of Grey look vanilla. With that being said, the aftercare would depend on what type of sex you’ve guys had. If it was something incredibly taxing and rough on your body, he’d show you a rarely sweet side to him. His hands would be the gentlest ever as he washed you and soothed any bruises he might’ve caused on your skin. He’d clean and tidy up before tucking you into bed. If you mention how nice he was the next day he’d flick your forehead and change the subject.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part might have to be his face. He likes that his cute face hides his true nature well. But he’d also like his hands because they’re rough and calloused from all his training and hard work and they look so perfect wrapped around your throat.

On his partner he’d also like their face. He probably has a folder in his phone just filled with different expressions that he’s brought out of you. Faces of embarrassment, neediness, desperation, shyness, defiance, humiliation, and his favorites being ones where you look utterly fucked out of your mind and brainless.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

He loves cumming both on you and in you. He sometimes has an inner battle on whether or not he should pull out.

Cumming inside gives him a hot, proud feeling knowing that he’s marked you in a way so intimately. He loves spreading you open and watching his cum leak out of you only to swipe it back up with his fingers and shove it back into you, reprimanding you for wasting the ‘gift’ he left you.

Cumming on you, your face specifically, gets him shivering in satisfaction. Nothing strokes his ego more than watching his beloved with his sticky cum dripping down their face. The fact it’s so borderline disrespectful is what really gets him off. The way you’re letting him do this to you. And the sinfulness of it all spreads to your everyday life. He can’t help but think about it while you’re talking to and treating others with a smile like those lips haven’t been coated and defiled with his cum.

He’s honestly a huge asshole and sometimes cums a bit on your hair on purpose because he knows it grosses you out and pisses you off.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s an undeniable fact that he’s the dominant one in your relationship. The thought of anyone trying to top him is honestly laughable and something he’d never allow.

But…

He has on occasion, let his mind wander to fantasies of what it would be like to submit to you. Especially if you’re someone he’s been with for a long time and genuinely trusts and loves. He has a hard time expressing his emotions without reverting back to his asshole ‘I don’t care about anything’ attitude. He wants to tell you he loves you so dearly and that he’d gladly give himself up to you entirely but he can never bring himself to admit it.

So force the words out of him. Force him to admit how much he belongs to you. How his body exists to be used to entertain and please you.

As fast as his mind conjures up these thoughts though, he throws them out the window even faster. He’s so wrapped up in his own pride he can’t even let himself fantasize in peace.

Another thing he enjoys about this scenario is the thought of revenge. After having his body ravaged and used by you, he’d imagine all the things he’d do to you to make sure you don’t forget your place under him. Giving out punishment when you actually deserve it tastes much sweeter and he'd be so excited to pay you back for everything you did to him and then some.

All hypothetical of course! He’d never tell you any of these fantasies. Only way this could happen is if you follow your own selfish desires to have him submit to you and really follow through. You can’t half ass it because even though it’s something he secretly wants, there’s no way he’s going down without a fight.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Depends on how old he is at the time. At 18 he has an idea of what he wants and the things he likes but at 24, he’s pretty experienced and has been around. Not really any serious or meaningful relationships, just ones with masochistic sluts who let him do whatever he wanted

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He has a lot of positions he likes and goes through but if he had to choose one… probably good ol’ missionary. Mainly because he’s on top and can see your face.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He technically does joke but it’s more teasing and mocking you then actually trying to be funny

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s well groomed, he doesn’t like it to be a mess but it’s not something he meticulously takes care of either.

His hair is slightly darker than the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

I guess it depends because like I said before there's different kinds of sex you guys have but usually, he’s not romantic. He’s just fulfilling his fucked up kinky desires.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

If he has a choice he’d prefer not to, he’d rather have you gagging and slobbering on him over his boring hand any day but if you’re not around or willing to, he’ll settle. He has pics of you to get him through it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Ohhh boy…

Jeez I actually don’t want to like… expand on all of them cuz we’ll be here all day.. so I’ll just list them lol.

BDSM, leash & collaring, pet play, spanking, roleplay, choking, exhibitionism, public sex, oral, marking, recording, humiliation, desperation, orgasm denial, bondage, toys, rough sex, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mind break, anal, face-fucking, cock worship, creampie, facials, saliva swallowing, spitting, corruption, degradation, discipline, objectification, crying, handcuffs, sensory deprivation, biting, breeding, wetting, piss drinking, watersports

I know some of these are gross but he’s a freak idk what to tell you I’m just being realistic 💀

I think it goes without saying but this is stuff he’s doing to you.

Also if you don’t like any of these that’s fine, he’s not gonna force it on you. I mean he’ll try to persuade you but if you seriously don’t want to then he won’t be seriously upset. It’s not like he needs all of these kinks to have sexual satisfaction, they’re just things he enjoys and gets off to.

Also.. remember his dirty secret? They’re things he wouldn’t mind you doing to him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Your apartment because it’s a space where you both could prep for some real crazy shit and clean up easily. Since he lives at the Shinsengumi headquarters, there’s not that much freedom or privacy you both could have there. He likes the thought of public sex but understands if you don’t. Plus he’s a cop so he shouldn’t really be doing scandalous things like that anyways.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Lots of things to be honest. He enjoys arguing with and pissing you off so that he could ‘put you in your place’ but he’s also a fan of when you’re obedient. He has a love/hate relationship with bratty types because he likes being in control but the thought of breaking you or forced submission is something he loves. Being super sweet and kind to him makes him think ‘ohh I have to ruin them..’ a sweet s/o would really bring out his corruption kink. Acting clueless to his sexual innuendos and advances will get him hot and he’d be more than willing to give a private demonstration.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

In early stages of your relationship, you dominating him is completely off the table, an absolute hard no. He has to build up his trust in you for you to be able to see such a vulnerable side of him.

Also, I’m kinda on the fence with this, I think he’d hate the thought of sharing you. He might like to show you off, like he’s done with walking that one girl on a leash down the street, but the thought of someone actually touching you would make him sick. He’s a very jealous person, he doesn’t mind people looking because he’s very proud to have you but he’s the only one allowed to use you. They can look, can’t touch.

Also scat and vomit stuff, that’s too nasty.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He lovessss receiving. If he could keep you on his dick 24/7 he would. He loves seeing your mouth stretched open around him while a mix of drool and precum leaks past your lips. The messier it gets the better, he gets so hot and bothered at the thought of ruining your pretty face, having it slick with a crude mix of spit and cum.

He’d totally slap you with his dick too lol like he’d pull out, give a few wet slaps to your cheek and lips before plunging back down your throat.

Oh yeah he’s a big facefucking enjoyer.

If you let him, he’d grab the sides of your head and use you like a fleshlight. He’d lock his legs behind your head and forcefully hold you down, choking you because he’s an asshole. As you struggle and cry he’d just resist the urge not to cum then and there.

Also like I mentioned in C, he loves cumming in and out of you. Usually he doesn’t warn you, you’re just gonna have to guess based on his reactions because he likes giving you evil surprises. Like boom cum down the throat and now you’re choking or boom cum in your eye. If you complain about it enough then he’ll start to warn you because he does feel just a bit guilty of seeing you in genuine pain and peril. Just a bit though.

He’s pretty skilled at giving but he doesn’t do it often. He makes it his personal goal to learn every little weak spot to drive you crazy, he wants to know you better than you do. So eventually he’ll become a pro at making you cum with his mouth but he just doesn’t do it much. It’s mainly like,, an entree or teaser before the real show.

In a situation where you're dominant though… SIT ON HIS FACE! FUCK HIS FACE! USE HIM!! He might cum untouched just from the aggression and thought of being used as an object hehe.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a mix of it all and does whatever he feels like. Usually likes going fast and aggressive to overwhelm you but as soon as you’re about to cum he’ll slow down and mock your whines and begging for him to speed up. When you two are having a sweeter time together though, he’d go slow and deep, trying to enjoy and feel you as much as possible, kissing beneath your ear and neck and starting to speed up once he feels he’s about to cum.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s fine with them, he doesn’t particularly love them but they get the job done when he wants you and there isn’t much time. But he’ll usually prefer to thoroughly enjoy you. Might see it as a personal challenge to get you to cum fast but sometimes if he’s feeling especially mean he’ll go, “I have to be in a meeting in 5 minutes, if you can’t cum that’s your own problem.” And he actually will leave you high and dry.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

There’s a lot of things he’s into and willing to try. He’ll practically say yes to anything unless it changes the power balance between you too. Things like that might take some extra convincing and persuasion but he could also see it as ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’, if you want something from him, you’ll have to give up something in return. Wanna peg him? Then let him walk you with a leash so he could “potty train” you. A lot of times the odds are unbalanced but he’s hard to persuade otherwise.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can probably cum twice, three if he’s really energetic. He has good stamina from training and personal experience but he’s still only human. Most of the time is spent making you cum anyways.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Absolutely. He has so much shit with him you’d think he has a premium membership with the local sex shop. You don’t even know where he keeps it because again he doesn’t have much privacy back at the Shinsengumi headquarters since they have routine inspections but whatever. They’re pretty much all stuff he uses on you, he’s never really bought anything for himself/own personal use (like a fleshlight) and doesn’t really see the need to. He thinks toys should be used on his partner.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ABSOLUTELY!!! Being a massive asshole is his whole fetish. He on a daily basis thinks of shit he could do to piss you off or tease you. Seeing you in tears, whining and crying is like fuel to his existence.

If he ever managed to piss you off to the point of tears, part of him would feel guilty but the other part of him would show through the rock hard boner he has in his pants.

During sex, he’ll ignore his own needy cock if it means making you suffer more. Hell, he might even cum just from the teasing he does to you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s fairly vocal but it’s mostly degrading, mocking, teasing words or commands he’s barking at you. When he’s actually inside you he’ll try not to moan, mostly because he’s shy and a little embarrassed, thinking that moaning is a sign of being weak to how good you feel. He usually covers up his moans with more degrading words and dirty talk.

(If you ever managed to top him, he’d be a very bratty bottom. Talking nonstop shit to the point you gotta just gag him. Only take it off after successfully breaking him so that the only sounds he makes are fucked up babbles and whines of how much he wants to cum)

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Under normal circumstances it would be pretty hard to get him in a subspace or submissive mood but being incredibly loving and doting on him makes it hard for him to tease you. (This is something that would only work if you had been together for a while and he really loved you)

Late at night, laying in bed with him, start placing kisses on his neck and caress his body. If he asks what you’re doing just say “I’m just trying to give you some love,” and go back to smothering him in affection. It’s hard for him to accept at first and his natural instinct is to take control of the situation but if you stay strong and confident through it, by the end you could be on top of him and maybe he’d end up in tears by the overall intensity and intimacy of it all.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s about an average size in length but is a bit on the thicker side. His tip is pretty well pronounced too. Not super veiny- actually he had pretty much only one thick vein you could easily see on the side. It’s a slightly tanner color than the rest of his skin and the tip gets reddish when he’s close to cumming.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, he’s a young active guy who (I think) is a bit hypersexual. A lot of the time he’s capable of control and restraint but sexual thoughts plague his mind often.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends on how long you guys had been going for but usually since he has good stamina, he has enough energy to stay awake to clean up you and the area before he goes to sleep but if you’re topping him, he’ll probably be really sleepy and drained.

[felixravinstills]

I saw an earlier post about Felix poisoning President Ravinstill and it somehow making things even worse.

Tentatively, I'd like to slide forward this suggestion: Felix as President. Or at least as a presidential candidate.

Except he's doing everything to slide the votes to literally anyone else. (It's not working) EVERYTHING he does to make his odds worse comically backfires and ends up endearing him even more to the citizens.

Coriolanus is fuming. None of his poison attempts are working. (Unbeknownst to him, anything poisoned ends up with Clemmie and she has no idea it's poisoned either, so she's going about her day, unbothered by the poison that she's just consumed)

Wow! This is great! It weaponizes my tendency to torture Felix for good (he gets to fail upwards)!

I just spitballed a few ideas below... Just the idea of Felix failing upward is so funny!

Hilarius and Festus fully expecting either Coriolanus or Felix's cousin to win the presidency decide to jokingly write him in as a candidate during the primaries. A lot of their former classmates decide to do this as well, because why not?

There are now three top candidates for the President of Panem.

The only other person who hates the idea of Felix becoming president in this AU more than Felix is President Ravinstill who fears that the office will take away the best parts of his nephew.

He suggest that Felix announce that any supporters he has instead vote for Felix's cousin, Marius. There's a press conference and Felix does so,

Their combined Ravinstill "luck" means that Marius sees the press conference, bursts into tears, and announces that he is actually stepping down to support his "baby cousin" whom he would now like to get to know better.

Marius and Felix's other cousin, Gnaeus, sign on as Felix's advisors and their supporters are quick to back Felix

All over the Capitol, men and women are touched by this display of familial support and maybe decide to vote Ravinstill for that reason.

(I don't think the Districts are allowed to vote for the president if we're being honest here... or maybe certain Capitolites sway those votes. Like maybe the Creeds offer food and other benefits if their candidate wins, so it incentives District 7 to vote a certain direction?)

In an effort to lose support, Felix declares that he's stopping the Hunger Games, because he hates fun (hoping to lose the younger demographic of voters who have grown up with them and love the Games). He states it was a big mistake of his Great-Uncle's administration (he's hoping to lose the traditionalist/older Ravinstill supporters.)

This starts a movement of anti-Game Capitolites who start framing the Games as childish which somehow gains a lot of traction.

His second statement actually sparks self-reflection through a sheer miracle, and older Capitolites start going "they are kind of barbaric, aren't they?"

Pres. Ravinstill would be more upset about how badly their plan to not get Felix elected is going (and also his nephew lowkey throwing shade at his administration) if Gaul five seconds away from throttling him at any given moment.

Coriolanus loses support as he built up his popularity on his Gamemaking experience

Clemensia's been getting a lot of treats lately because she's been helping Felix straighten out an ending the Games plan since it looks like he'll win.

If the Districts can vote, they definitely vote for Felix now that there is a potential end to the Games on the table.

"Here, Clemmie! You've been such a great help! Have some tea! And sweets!" "But you haven't had any? "I'll have some right after I go into the other room and read this live on TV!" "Felix, this says that District 13 is actually not destroyed, and that the government lied to everyone in order to end the war faster, leaving many in financial ruin?" "Yup. Everyone will hate this!" *the next day* Headline: District 13 Wishes to Rejoin Panem Due to the Bravery and Candor of Its Young Future President Coriolanus rips the paper.

Thanks for sending this idea! Always happy to see Felix ideas!

[merbear25]

Hey! Can I have a Germany x Female!Reader for your Spooky Season Event? :D Set in a carnival with a (mayhaps clown themed or something?) haunting. Maybe a rescue and love confession that's SFW or at most softcore! (I watched Killer Klowns from Outer Space recently and I'm still kind of stuck on it, fun movie!)

Heyy!! I'm glad you sent something in for the event! I hope you like what I came up with 💜🧡

Twists and turns down the wet boardwalk, the smell of rain was still lingering in the air. The swirling patterns of colorful lights illuminated the otherwise dark and foggy night. With laughter and music filling the air, there was no reason for anyone to think that something was lurking in the shadows.

CW: SFW, fem!reader, fluff, early stages of relationship, mentions of survival situations, supernatural

Twisted mirrors (Germany)

With the rain having settled, you leisurely walked down the street. Your arms linked and conversation pleasant: the colorful lights danced on your silhouettes as the carnival welcomed the newly defined couple with upbeat music. Rows of games with empty promises of prizes for the strongest and best shooter led to the various rides. Shrieks of giggling joy brought life to the cold night and the crashing of waves in the distance sprayed the salt from the sea.

Your eyes sparkled when you saw a large teddy bear being teased as a grand prize.

“Step right up and try your best! Let’s find the sharpest shooter this side of town!” The man’s eyes fell on you and as a true salesman, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. “Prove your skills and win your special lady any prize of her choosing! Only the best of the best can get all five targets.” The extension of his cane made Ludwig’s eyebrow cock.

“Oh, what about that one!” You were overcome with giddiness. That cream colored bear looked like the softest thing you’d ever seen, and knowing that your boyfriend won it for you would make it that much more cherished.

“These games are such a scam.” His pessimism did little to crush your new dream of owning the stuffed animal.

“Eh? Not so sure you can defeat an old man at his own game, huh?” The man poked fun. “Give it a shot!” He laughed at his own joke after gesturing to the BB guns.

When you turned to give him those sad puppy dog eyes, he let out a long sigh before moving towards the booth. “Alright, I’ll get it for you.”

“Shoot all five of the targets in the center and you get that pretty girl of yours any one of those prizes off the top shelf.” A smile that oozed greed spread across his lips as your boyfriend handed him the money.

The thick paper on the first four gave way at the center perfectly, leaving the fifth one to be the deciding factor of whether or not you’d be cuddling up to the plush toy tonight. A sudden shake of the boardwalk caused him to slip and miss the target completely.

“What was that?” Your question came out in a shaky breath.

“What that was was you two not getting that cute bear.”

“Why should that count? That clearly wasn’t anything to do with me!”

“Sorry but those are the rules. You’re more than welcome to pay for another go.” A laugh that was equivalent to nails on a chalkboard got your boyfriend’s blood boiling. You stepped in to reassure him that you didn’t need the bear, and that you ought to just try and enjoy the rest of the evening.

Leaving in a huff, you allowed him to blow off some steam. He didn’t need much to feel better, though: a quick vent, your loving touch, and a soft peck on the cheek was all he needed. Walking to the “Twisting Wonderland of Mirrors”, a low rumble sounded throughout the area.

“Is that thunder?”

“Sounds a bit too high pitched for thunder.”

Not wanting to let something else throw a wrench in your fun, you both walked up and around the black and lime green checkered ramp. It tilted with each step towards the towering entrance—an open mouth of a pale-faced clown with gaudy neon orange hair.

The cavern-like walls of mirrors were lit with dim shades of purple and green. The floors were checkered swirls of lime green fading to white and black the deeper you explored. As you passed each mirror, the funhouse exaggerations got a few laughs out of you, while Ludwig’s demeanor didn’t really falter from mildly amused. However, watching you get a kick out of the silly tricks of the lights and mirrors had him smiling a bit more noticeably.

“Is that a smile I see?” You teased.

“It’s just another trick of the light.” His eyes lingered on your face before he leaned down to kiss you. With such a young relationship, you hadn’t yet said those three words, even though you both felt it strongly.

You stepped forward, letting your fingers trail off his cheek. Admiring the woman in front of him, he hesitated before following behind. There was another shift in the building, making you both lose your footing. When he looked back up, your image appeared to be distorted, blurred even. Reaching out made his heart sink. Thick glass had sealed him off from you. He pounded on the wall, signaling you to turn around, but whereas he had sight of you, you had none. When you turned to face the banging on the walls, you were met with only a reflection of yourself.

Calling out to each other was in vain. Even after being blocked off, other options opened. Taking any chance he could to get to you, each step still felt as if he was being pulled further and further away.

Deeper into the halls of mirrors released a light fog that billowed past your legs. Its chill made you shiver, but with seemingly no way of turning back, you pushed forward. The dimly lit hallways grew darker and the patterns on the floor became more disorienting. Spirals that twisted the very inner workings of your mind worked their way down to your legs. Vertigo set in as the constant changes of your appearance loomed over you and mocked the feeble attempt you were making to escape.

That low rumble returned, rising to a higher pitch as you trudged forward. A barrier against the now ear-piercing screeching was impossible, your hands could only muffle it so much before you cried out in fear. Sinking to the floor, its swirling pattern coiled around you. Black and white snake-like slithers, bolts of lime green surging through the thickening fog, and an abrupt jolt hoisting you into the air.

Flailing limbs that came crashing down on the slick slide to have formed, your nails and feet dragged across the framed mirrors. A searing heat wafted up the corridor and made you wince in pain as it burned your eyes. The smell of sulfur, echoes of sadistic laughter, and the rising heat, all coming to a fever pitch as the mirror below rattled in anticipation. 

Pounding on the walls returned. “Go away!” The moisture in your throat was drying up, leaving your screams to be replaced with hoarse coughs.

A roar sent the mirror beneath you to collapse in on itself. Tornado force winds whipped your hair towards the fiery vortex. Shards of glass from above nearly sliced your skin as you clung to the sides for dear life. You begged for mercy when a pair of hands gripped your arm, thinking that a creature tied to this hellish experience had chosen you for a satisfying meal.

“Grab onto me!”

That familiar voice, your saving grace. Without a second thought, you grabbed a hold of him, scaling the sides as he pulled you out of the pit. The agonizing cries and screams from being robbed of its victim flooded the building. Clanks of metal and shattering glass accompanied them as the roof began shifting downward. 

Through the jagged frame of a recently destroyed mirror was a flickering exit sign—the only risk worth taking. Flinging open the door to the drizzling outside, the newly wet pavement scrapped at your hands and knees. The raging cries of protest were dying down but would ring in your ears and in your dreams for years to come.

“Are you alright?” He asked while checking you thoroughly.

“Yes, but what about you? You’re covered in cuts.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said breathlessly. His hand went up to cup your face. Stroking your soft cheek with his thumb, his gaze flickered to your lips. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, but there was no stopping the collision of your lips.

He pulled you tightly against him in fear of you being taken away from him again. Murmurs of “I love you” were exchanged repeatedly between passionate kisses.

Hand in hand, you journeyed back up the familiar wooden path. A recently packed and colorful carnival was now riddled with nothing but old flyers. The booths that were filled with stuffed prizes were practically all barren, all except for the one with that teddy bear you had your eye on.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he glanced over at you. “I think this is rightfully ours, don’t you?”

You nodded and accepted the gift in a warm embrace. Your heart-felt thank you was more than he could’ve asked for, but those three words you uttered earlier were still the highlight of an otherwise dreadful night.