#This guys magic would normally be red.

[comrade-slugcat]

the first sign of the plague is crumbling antennae and erratic behavior

[bunnieswithknives]

Were there a couple minutes before Rowen died where David was just panicking, or did he die immediately? This is very important to me for no reason other than “how traumatized was David by this particular incident”

You know, I hadn't really considered it before as anything other than an instant kill movie. Even if Red did survive being stabbed the adrenalin would have been high enough that David just kept on bludgeoning him, its not until after he's dead that David like 'shit, I didn't want that actually'. It would have just been a more drawn out and gruesome death.

[holland-vosijk-antari]

i bet white london vine/tik tok would be absolutely insane

[bunbunlovestowrite]

How the Hashira men react to your neighbor asking you to be quiet

Characters: Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku, Obanai, Gyomei, Giyuu,

Additional shit: Swearing, Sanemi fighting said neighbor, Rengoku being blunt, mentions of sex, ooc mot likely :p

Tengen

He couldn't care less

His whole thing is being flashy and loud so he wants you to be loud

Like it's not his fault that dick is magical

After he shoos your neighbor away he makes sure to be as loud as possible that night

He's pounding into your cunt and you swear your gonna break when he whispers "okay now scream exactly how big my dick is. Don't forget the tip color-"

He gets cut off by you hitting him with the pillow

Way to ruin the mood

But that doesn't stop him and instead he goes harder, making sure the bed creaks loud ASF for your neighbor

"Not my fault he doesn't know how to please a woman." Is his main reason for doing so

He really wants you to scream his name so it's imbedded in your neighbors head

"Morning N/N!" Him to your neighbor from the balcony while your trying to get out of bed and failing

"Actually die." Both you and your neighbor to Tengen

Sanemi

Cares alot

Why the fuck is that limp dick biscuit talking to you and him? Who does he think he is?

You were the one who broke the news to him thankfully cause if Sanemi was the one who opened the door then you'd have to see your husband through glass in a prison

Just kidding. The Slayer corp would get him out of trouble if he didn't do it himself.

Anyways

Sanemi made it his goal to piss your neighbor off as much as possible

Your under him, practically creaming on his cock, and he's slamming the wall yelling "This loud enough yet?! Huh!?"

Not kidding I can see him doing that

He quite literally had you against a window where your neighbors could see him destroying you just to make them mad or uncomfortable, hopefully both.

But then he'd get pissed someone else would see you all naked and fucked out so he settled for the wall next to the window

One day your neighbor, finally having enough, bangs on your door yelling and guess who opens it...Sanemi!!

Good Lord was he waiting for this

It took one punch and the guy was out

Kinda what happens when you put a normal dude against a guy who kills demons for a living

Rengoku

He's a good neutral between caring and not caring

Like he doesn't wanna make your neighbors mad but he also loves hearing your screams

So he tries to keep you quiet during sex but fails since he gets to into it to give a fuck

The next days his loud ass voice wakes you up

"IM SORRY FOR MAKING INCREDIBLE LOVE TO MY WIFE!" He's not being sarcastic thats his genuine apology

Your facepalming and you want to die when you see your neighbor and she can't look at you

"PERHAPS SHES MAD BECAUSE HER HUSBAND CANNOT PLEASE HER!" Rengoku says casually and you know she can hear you from outside in her garden

"Inside voices!" You place your hands over his mouth to try and shut him up.

It works for a bit before he's yelling again

You love your husband but holy shit you wish he would speak normally sometimes

He's actually quiet in bed though

So your the problem (real)

Obanai

I'm not an Obanai fan so forgive me for how bad his section will be

Obanai is a quiet mf, and you're not even that loud

It's your neighbor who was the problem

A little old man whose hearing aids apparently had the power of 67 suns

You and Obanai found this out when he was outside training and your neighbor came over

He was so sweet and polite and even chuckled at Obanai's redness

Obanai cared at first but got over it

You? You make sure to not make a PEEP in bed

Okay that pisses Obanai off but he understands your reasons

At least make a gasp or sum cause he's over here like "Wait does this feel good? Can she feel it? Did I forget where the clit is?"

Brother is STRESSING

Then you cum and he's like "ah"

Then he's like "Did you take it?"

You have to keep yourself from murdering him cause how tf would you fake squirting

Gyomei

Babe I'm not gonna lie, you're a screamer

Gyomei is built like a house and your telling me your just gonna whine and whimper?

NO

Your over here crying and screaming into his chest, neck, the pillow, anything.

And Gyomei loves it!

He can't see your reactions so hearing and feeling them let's him know he's doing good

Gyomei isn't loud but he's not quiet

He'll grunt and moan and praise you, but he's not gonna cry out.

Well he'll cry but you can never tell from what

When the pussy so good you start crying 😭🙏

When your neighbor politely asked you to be a tad bit quieter Gyomei actually laughed

Not in a 'nah we'll keep being loud' way but more of a 'sorry we'll be quiet' way. He also found it hilarious how you actually died of embarrassment.

Don't worry he thinks its endearing

Yet it was kinda hard for him since he enjoyed hearing you

But your touches and now quieter moans made that better

And then there's also you literally drawing blood from his back you were scratching so hard

Giyuu

Holy shit you have never seen him so embarrassed

Like you could shade match his Haori to him and get the exact same color

He was the one your neighbor told and he stopped working when 'loud' and 'moaning' left their lips

If a demon doesn't kill him then his own actions will

Giyuu isn't loud, and he loves that he can make you feel so good that your loud for him.

But he didn't want your neighbor back over at your house so he tried to keep you quiet

You were super confused when he held his hand over your mouth in bed and he just pointed to your neighbors house. Then you got it.

So you nod and try to keep quiet.

You know in school when the teacher tells you and a friend to shut up but they look at you funny and you break?

Yeah that was you

You were riding Giyuu one night and you were loud so he was like "holy shit I love you but please- I can't look our neighbor in the eyes anymore."

And you couldn't help but laugh

Like howling

You calmed down obviously but sex was very giggle filled after that

You've never seen Giyuu so panicked

But give him a week and he'll stop caring

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPXDC Yeah, Mechanic.

Danny is a good friend of the Wayne's, they met in Extenuating Circumstances TM and he's in the loop about the Batman Thing and they know he's Phantom on the side. He works in WE R&D department as an engineer but gets called up to the Watchtower to repair busted vehicles and such. Danny's worked on Kon's Sphere, the various superhero themed motorbikes, and on one memorable occasion Megan's Bio Ship.

Due to being kinda dead and having done so much random ass somewhat magic shit, he has this aura anyone just past the point of normal human can feel. He emits the same ominous vibes as the Lazarus to the Bats, itches in the back of Constantine's skull the same way a powerful demon would, and to the speedsters standing next to him has the same wrong, tense feeling as tearing through the time stream.

But he's just a mechanic.

.

Red Tornado: ...

Danny:...

Red Tornado: Who are you?

Danny: Danny Fenton, mechanic.

Red Tornado: You don't seem to appear on my heat sensors, you were brought here as a mechanic?

Danny: yeah, *already turning around* mechanic.

.

Danny: Please step away from the bike.

Beast Boy: *puffed up like a cat* Don't touch my bike man

Danny: Do you want it fixed or not?

Robin: Dude stop harassing him, he's the new mechanic.

Beast Boy: That guy's our new mechanic??!

Danny: Yeah, mechanic.

.

Kid Flash: So,, who are you?

Danny: *half way under a disassembled vehicle* Danny Fenton.

Kid Flash: And what are you doing?

Danny: fixing your messes like normal

Kid Flash: What was that last bit???

Danny: Like a normal mechanic.

Kid Flash: 0_0

[j-psilas]

Will we ever get anything quite like Code Geass again?

I don't think it's possible.

Code Geass is Japanese nationalist propaganda disguised as a global political drama, disguised as a military mecha show, disguised as yaoibait, disguised as a teen melodrama, disguised as a high school romcom, disguised as a Pizza Hut commercial...

...except those layers aren't layers at all, but are instead comingled in a giant snake ball of insanity.

The lead writer, Ichirō Ōkouchi, only ever worked as an episode writer for other shows prior to Code Geass, and never took the helm of an anime series ever again. And it shows. [EDIT: Several people have pointed out his other lead writing credits to me. So I misread Wikipedia—sue me. I maintain that this guy is a better episode writer than he is a lead writer.]

The minute-to-minute pacing is impeccable from a mechanical standpoint, with tension and stakes rising to ever-higher peaks, balanced out by the slow simmers of the b-plot and c-plot. It keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat at all times. Meanwhile, the large-scale plot is the most off-the-wall middle school nonsense I've ever seen, continually surprising the viewer by pulling twists too dumb to have ever have been on their radar—and therefore more effective in terms of raw shock value.

"Greenlight it!" was the mantra of this anime's production. It must have been. It has, in no particular order, all of the following:

Character designs from CLAMP, the foremost yaoi/BL group in Japan at the time—for characters who are only queer insofar as they can bait the audience, and only straight insofar as they can be more misogynist to the female cast.

Speaking of the female cast, hoo boy the fanservice. We've all seen anime girls breast boobily, with many cases more egregious than Code Geass, but there's something special about it happening immediately after—or sometimes in the middle of!—scenes of military conflict and ethnic cleansing.

Pizza Hut product placement everywhere, in every conceivable situation. High-speed chases, light slice-of-life scenes, intimate character moments, all of it. Gotta have Pizza Hut.

The anime-only Pizza Hut mascot, Cheese-kun. He wears a fedora.

The most hilarious approximations of European names—which I would love to see more often, frankly. Names like, I dunno, "Count Schnitzelgrübe zi Blanquezzio."

A depiction of China that is wholly removed from any modern reality, with red-and-gold pagodas, ornamental robes, scheming eunuchs, and a brainwashed child empress. There's a character named General Tsao, like the chicken.

Inappropriate free-form jazz in the soundtrack, intruding at the most unexpected times.

A secret cabal not unlike the Illuminati, run by an immortal shota with magic powers, holding influence all across the world, at the highest levels of government. They matter for approximately three episodes.

An unexpected insert scene of a schoolgirl using the corner of a table to masturbate. She's doing it to thoughts of her crush, the princess Euphemia—because she believes Euphemia to be as racist as she herself is, and that gets her off. This interrupts an unrelated scene of our protagonist faction planning their next move, which then resumes as if uninterrupted.

Said schoolgirl, in a fit of hysteria, threatens to detonate a worse-than-nuclear bomb in the middle of her school. She then goes on to develop an even more destructive version of that bomb, and become a war criminal, in a chain of cause-and-effect stemming from the moment she finds out that Euphemia wasn't actually that racist.

A character called "the Earl of Pudding."

A premise that asks us to believe that the name Lelouch is normal enough that he didn't need to change it when he went into hiding as an ordinary civilian. "No, that's not Prince Strimbleford von Vanquish! That's our classmate, Strimbleford Smith."

The collective unconscious, a la Carl Jung, within which the protagonist fights his villainous father for control over the fate of humankind. After this is over, the anime just keeps going for about ten more episodes.

An episode in which a mech tosses a giant pizza.

A gay yandere sleeper agent who can manipulate the perception of time.

Chess being played very badly, even to the untrained eye. Lelouch frequently checkmates his opponent by moving his king. This goes hand-in-hand with the anime's crock of bad chess symbolism.

A fictional drug that can most succinctly be described as "nostalgia heroin."

Roller-skating mecha in knightly armor, and some of the most sickass mecha fight choreography that I've seen.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. This anime is what the average Westerner in 2006 thought anime was, and it was made in a confluence of factors that cannot be replicated. I've never had so much fun watching something that I found so... insulting. Repugnant. Ridiculous. Baffling. I love it sincerely.

Catch me cosplaying Lloyd Asplund at a con sometime, or maybe even the big gay loser himself, Lelouch vi Britannia.

[nouearth]

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter… 

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it. 

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more. 

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end. 

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was. 

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

 “oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“ 

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy. 

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen. 

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you. 

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change. 

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face. 

you. that was all he wanted. 

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look. 

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then.  not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.  

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now. 

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,” 

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur. 

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise. 

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you. 

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it. 

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment. 

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress. 

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch. 

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

 “i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster. 

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it. 

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor. 

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.  

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed. 

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more. 

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off. 

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean. 

nothing was wasted. 

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[temiizpalace]

☆┆TEND TO MY WOUNDS !

SUMMARY: red alert! he’s injured! it’s alright, for the prefect of ramshackle is here to save the day.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil, rook, idia

(i spun a wheel to try and write other characters.. jamil and leona just love me teehee)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: the boys get injured, but nothing is life threatening. — cursing — MENTIONS OF BLEEDING (not fatal)

ROMANTIC, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“shit! ow—“

leona groans, feeling the stinging pain of alcohol rubbed onto his forehead. spelldrive didn’t go as it usually did.

everything was normal. practice was going well, and everybody was doing the proper training regiments. it was all fun watching leona and everybody practice by a nearby tree. except leona wasn’t practicing this afternoon.

today, he felt like napping right beside you. he laid his head in your lap, sound asleep. this all goes south when some freshmen decide to mess around, sending the disc flying in your direction.

typically leona would’ve been able to divert it with magic, but feeling a little hazy from barely awakening, it hit him straight on the forehead.

now here you both are, present in the infirmary, leona sitting on the cot, and you being his own personal doctor. “i can’t believe the great leona kingscholar got hit by a spelldrive disc. it is truly an honor to witness it first hand.” you joke, causing him to roll his eyes.

“tch.. whatever— FUCK.” it’s funny to see leona in such a state. one where his tough guy act isn’t all the way up. you thought he’d brush off the pain like a man, but surprise! we learn something new everyday.

“haha.. wait here. i need to find bandages.” you walk over to the cabinet, only to find all the boxes of bandages empty. except for one. a bandaid box. you snicker at the sight of them and take a couple out of the box. leona raises a brow as he heard your giggling in the back til you made your way back towards him.

you stood in front of him and placed the bandaids on his forehead. he liked the close proximity. he likes being by your side. you caring for him like this is actually one of his deepest desires. he won’t ever say it aloud of course, but he hopes you take the hints.

“you are now officially cured.” you grin, finally applying the last bandaid. he stood up, looking you in the eyes. he wanted to thank you. wanted to thank you for helping him. wanted to thank you for caring enough about him to do this. to help him.

but leona being leona cannot say thank you. “..I don’t wanna owe you any favors so,” he pulls out his wallet from his pocket and throws it to you. you catch it, nearly dropping all the thaumarks inside on the floor. “go buy somethin’ while you’re at it.”

he ruffles your hair, walking out of the infirmary. you flip through the wallet, it barely closing due to the amount of cards and thaumarks inside. rich boy privileges go crazy. ruggie wasn’t kidding when he said leona was stinkin rich. all you could do was stand there, shocked.

leona walks back out to the field, hearing the team laugh as he approaches. he looks at them with a puzzled look, the laughing becoming unbearable. “oi, what’s so funny? mind tellin’?”

“cute bandaids ya got there, boss. shishishishi..” ruggie chuckles, looking at leona’s super cute and silly unicorn bandaids on his forehead. at first, he’s confused. then he rips a bandaid off and looks at the patterns.

start running <3

🐬┆JADE LEECH

“jade, stop moving!”

you sigh, trying to place a bandaid on jade’s cut. you wanted to help him cook today since mostro lounge has been extremely busy lately. azul had been working him to the bone, so he used his time off as a way to spend time with you.

only to end up back in the kitchen, but whatever. since you’re there, it’s all good. while chopping a mysterious vegetable, (it’s a mushroom..) he accidentally cut his finger. he wasn’t paying attention to where he was cutting. cause he was looking at you.

normally somebody would wince in pain, but jade is jade. so. “oh my, this is unexpected.” he says, as his blood gets on his gloves and contaminates the mushrooms. “oh my what— OH MY GOSH, JADE.” you yell, as he’s abnormally calm about the fact blood was all over the mushrooms.

so now he’s sitting at one of the barstools in mostro lounge as you try to patch up his finger. anytime the bandaid gets remotely close to the cut, he squirms and jerks his hand away. you can’t tell if he’s messing with you or if he’s just sensitive to touch because he still has his dumb polite smile.

“jade. stop. moving.” you grunt, trying to grab his wrist to hold his hand still. “fufu..” his stupid chuckle is usually very nice but it’s just growing irritating.

for some reason he still has the impulse to tease you. even when injured. all you want to do is care for him, so why is he making this so difficult?! is he waiting for something?

oh. that’s an idea.

“jade, may i see your hand?” you ask, putting the bandaid on the counter. he raises a brow, but complies nonetheless. “of course. do be gentle though, im wounded.” well no shit.

you held his hand gently, raising a finger up to your lips. you place a gentle kiss on his finger. not on the wound exactly, but near it. his eyes slightly widened and his cheeks tinted slightly red. he loses his composure for just a moment, giving you time to apply the bandaid onto his cut.

you smile in victory, standing up from your seat. “there, all better!” you winked at him before making your way back to the kitchen. he sat there, dumbfounded. how curious.. if that’s a way to get free kisses..

“oh dear, it appears i had just cut my lower lip. what a shame. it appears i am in need of some assistance.” this wasn’t even five minutes later.

🐍┆JAMIL VIPER

“you scream like a girl.”

you laugh as jamil looks away from you. he couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. a little earlier, the both of you were sitting in the lounge of ramshackle as comfortable silence filled the air.

he was flipping through pages of a book while you leaned onto his shoulder, playing a game of some sort on your phone.

“..AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

that silence was interrupted as you heard a high pitched scream next to you, turning your head to see jamil absolutely mortified and panicked.

“JAMIL?! WHAT IS—“ then you spotted it. the wretched cockroach crawling on the table. he shut his book and threw it at the table, missing. now he’s grabbing all nearby objects to kill the insect.

“JAMIL PLEASE CALM DOWN, PLEASE! FUCK, JAMIL—” he ended up using his magic, but used a lil too much. as you held him back, his leg bumped against the table, causing him to scurry back to the couch.

confirming that the roach had cleared the premises, you sat next to him and checked the bump on his leg. his breaths were heavy and a sweat was across his brow. you would’ve thought he looked insanely attractive if it weren’t for the incident just before.

now he’s embarrassed, his hood is pulled over, and he’s pouting as he looks away from you. “i think you got a small cut, but it should be fine. i’ll go get some bandaids!” you hum, getting up from the cushions to find the box of bandages.

he completely humiliated himself in front of you. he was weak in front of you. and he hates that. “im back and here to repair your boo-boo.” you came back with the box, sitting back down and opening it. you remove a bandaid and slowly apply it til you hear him mutter something.

“sorry.”

“hm? sorry, couldn’t hear ya. mind speaking up for me?” you heard him perfectly fine. he irks before speaking up, his tone hinted with annoyance. “sorry.”

“all is forgiven, my love.” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. he sighs, reciprocating the hug and leaning onto you. “please forget you saw that..” he mumbles, his face practically burning.

you chuckle, playing with loose strands of his hair as the both of you now lied on the couch. “no promises..” he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, but placed a quick kiss on your cheek. he shuts his eyes, needing to recharge.

“mhm. love you too, jamil.” you whisper, allowing him to rest on your chest. he fell asleep in no time flat. let him rest. or even better yet, join him!

🏹┆ROOK HUNT

“how’d you fall?”

you ask, seeing as rook lied on the ground. i don’t know how to explain his pose, he’s just a theatre kid.

“never mind the details, ma chère. all that matters is that you had rushed to my rescue!” he smiles as you stood there. the most deadpan expression on your face. “i’ll just go get you bandages and not question it.” “merci!”

you rush to the infirmary, grabbing the bandages and rushing out. if nobody knew better, they’d all have assumed that rook was dead. he hasn’t moved an inch.

“where’d you injure yourself?” you ask, crouching down and inspecting his arms. “non, non. you must guess!” he laughs, sitting up right away. you groan as he initiated such an idea. “rook. im not going to guess—“

“if that is the case, ill be stuck in everlasting pain! it’d be unbearable.” he sighs dramatically, causing you to furrow your brow. “fine. did you injure your leg?” you grumble, checking each limb.

he shook his head, smiling like an absolute idiot. “here, allow me to give you a hint.” he grabs your hand guiding it to the place of the wound. of course he can’t do it without teasing you a little.

he places your hand on his shoulder, his hand, his neck, til eventually he stopped on his cheek. “my injury can be found around here.”

you look at his cheek, but there is no cut, scratch, or bruise to be seen. you raise a brow at him, but he has no shift in reaction. “rook, are you lying to me?” rook shook his head, looking you in the eyes. “I wouldn’t lie to you, mon amour. perhaps you need a closer look.”

before he could even explain what that meant, he pulled you towards him. causing you to fall onto him. “can you see it now?” he asks, staring at you lovingly.

you sigh, pulling a bandage out and placing it onto his lips. his eyes widened, but he wasn’t mad. not in the slightest! he wrapped his arms around you. taking this opportunity for a cuddle session.

despite your “annoyance,” you smiled and laughed slightly. “you’re impossible, rook.”

he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, humming happily as you spoke. his fingers intertwined with yours as the sun hit both of your figures. creating a scene resembling one of a fairytale.

💀┆IDIA SHROUD

“you can’t lock yourself into your room because of this.”

you slightly chuckle as you patch up idia’s knee. moments before, his PE class had to do the sprints. looks like he went to class on the wrong day.

while he was running, he tripped on a conveniently placed rock and fell on his knee. ortho quickly went to find you and bring you to idia so that you can comfort him.

he had tears coming from his eyes, which caused ortho to panic. you both carried him to the infirmary since he had an inability to walk. you situated him onto the cot and grabbed some bandages from the cabinets. “don’t worry niisan! the prefect will take good care of you!”

ortho chimed, trying his best to comfort his brother. idia felt his stress lessen, but that doesn’t change the immense pain he was in. “thank you, ortho. but i don’t im ever gonna to go outside again.”

he mumbles, causing ortho to pout. you come back with the bandages, smiling as you sat to the side of the cot. “im gonna have to go explain to coach vargas why you’re not here! hang tight, niisan!”

you waved to ortho, leaving just you and idia in the infirmary. “idia, you’re not going to die because of this.” you smile, placing the bandage onto his knee. idia groans, picking at his fingers. “i looked so cringe just now. definitely not my moment.”

“you didn’t look cringe, idia. you got hurt.” you grabbed his hand and held it in yours. he smiles slightly as you tried to reassure him. it was endearing to him. “thanks.. but i want to lock myself in my room for like ever after this..” he quickly mutters, hoping you wouldn’t hear that. surprise! you heard him.

“no idia, you can’t lock yourself in your room forever after this.” you sigh, realizing this was the man you fell in love with. “what? you can come too. you’d be free from all the normies surrounding you.” he stated bluntly.

“..no.” you hesitantly said, squeezing his hand slightly. you both sat in the infirmary for a few more moments before you sat up and let go of his hand. “can you stand?”

“no.” he quickly replies, not even bothering to try. you stare at him before exhaling deeply. “i’ll bring your switch then. wait here.” he smiled as he watched you exit the room. he appreciated how understanding you were. how you knew what he wanted before he even had to ask. ..well, most of the time anyway.

when you came back, you sat next to him on the cot. you both played smash bros together, playing until the console runs out of batteries. lucky for him, his console lasts for almost an entire week before it runs out of power.

let me just say, he beat your ass in smash bros.

A/N: this sat in my drafts for a very long time. i had to brainstorm A LOT to see how idia could get injured.

date published: 1/27/24

© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!

[steventhusiast]

modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

-

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.

[erosiism]

OBLIVION | YANDERE CROWN PRINCE X M!READER

prompt: very lazy (oblivious) reader x yandere crown prince who basically does everything for him. reader is clueless about his friends disappearing around him, historical setting where MC is a pampered son of a noble family 

character(s): yandere crown prince, lazy!reader

warnings(s): mild violence, yandere themes. still considered rather fluffy and sfw

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, as far as this goes this guy is too green to be really called a yandere lol. his possessive and violence tendencies are not to be glorified regardless, loose use of magic, not beta read 

Your biggest enemy is hard work, and your favorite hobby is sleeping. You can’t help it—you are spoiled, no doubt about that, and because you got lucky enough to be born into a prestigious family who dotes on you. Your social life is almost non-existent, but ever since you were young, your friend has stuck next to you. 

Your friend, who happens to be a crown prince.

People say he’s scary. You doubt that highly—is His Highness Cassian not the one who has brought you sweet treats from young? Is he not the one who littered your skin with tiny kisses because he likes showing affection? Is he not the one who allows you to laze around or nap? Rumors tend to be untrue, and you feel almost sorry towards the prince for having to deal with that.

(“I heard that if you mess with him, His Highness has the ability to kill! Haven’t you heard the disappearances lately?”)

You asked the crown prince questions regarding the rumors. All you got was a surprised, flippant reply: kill? That’s ridiculous, [Name]. I haven’t even mastered my mana skills yet.

So you don’t trust the rumors. It makes sense for people to be jealous, after all: he’s the crown prince. He has objectively good looks, and he’s an amalgamation of everything someone would covet: wealth, prestige, brilliance, and skill.

“You slept in class again?” A voice tears you out of your thoughts. You’re lounging on the bench in the school garden, and your legs are propped up on the sides. Your bag is thrown loosely to the ground. Inwardly you wish you had the physical capability to be agile enough to scale up a tree—because god, the place up there looked amazing—but unfortunately, you didn’t.

You face him. Cassia raises an eyebrow, and his fingers reach out gingerly to touch your cheek gently. You don’t recoil. It’s become normal.

“I can see words imprinted on your face. How long did you sleep? Or rather, how long was your class?”

It takes a few moments for you to process the prince’s words, before you squint your eyes. There’s a red smear on his cheek that seems hastily wiped off. It’s not too obvious, not to others, anyways, but you’re so used to Cassian's face looking normal that you immediately notice it.

“What’s that red thing on your face?” You ignore the question. You know that he can guess the answer.

“…Red thing?” Cassian immediately narrows his eyes, pausing. His fingers leave your face and go to his own. It looks like blood; which is odd, and definitely not possible.

“Is that…” you mull it over for a second. It can’t be blood. Or lipstick.

Cassian, though having received multiple marriage proposals, didn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. 

Strange, it doesn’t even seem like he likes women. So the only plausible thing is—

“—were you drinking tomato soup earlier?”

Cassian blinks his eyes, before a look of realization dawns on his face. And if you see correctly, there’s almost the tiniest hint of relief. Cassian’s lips tug up into a smile—he laughs, the prince laughs, the sound bright and mirthful and irrevocably fond. Your parents have teased you once about the prince nursing a crush on you. But this is how he has treated you for as long as you can remember.

“Tomato?”

“Looks like a tomato,” You furrow your eyebrows. “Hey, do they serve tomato soup in the academy? I really want tomato soup. It’s easy to drink, and…”

“I’ll get you some later,” Cassian says affectionately. He ruffles your hair, and you relax. “Don’t worry too much, alright?”

You shrug loosely. “Alright.”

.

.

[ before ]

He stares at the dead body on the ground. There aren’t a lot of rumors of you, but your laziness is well known. Some see it fondly, almost endearingly, but there are the rare few who view you with disdain because of your apparent lack of diligence.

Caspian doesn’t like that. He’s fine with rumors of his own—but of you? But of sweet, innocent, lovely you? He loathes it.

“Stop talking,” he smiles. “…You can do that, can’t you? After all, you’re already dead.”

A head lolls about and blood drips off a blade.

What, Cassian thinks with that sweet softness he has reserved for you, smiling gently, should I get for [Name] today?

shitpost since i had this lying around. lowkey cringe

[zephyrchama]

I was reading your period one. The funny thing is, I am pretty sure human guys might smell periods too? I'm not really sure...call me crazy but like, my boyfriend can smell my period room it's probably from him being around me 24/7 so it's why he can smell it a small bit i think, so I get more chocolate. Weird thing, huh.

(In reference to this post)

Some people absolutely can! I have a friend who describes it as a faint rotten metallic smell, he's always spot-on at telling when someone is on their period. He has to be within a couple feet of them, but he can tell even if he hardly knows the person. I think my friend is a super rare case though, and like with your boyfriend some people might be able to tell if they're really close? In a vast majority of cases people can't tell, or they don't care enough to think about it.

~

Solomon being able to smell it right off the bat seems too powerful. MC going to him for assistance is already awkward, it doesn't exactly feel normal to talk to acquaintances about personal menstrual cycles. But if he can't smell it, he'll need someone who can to help with their experiments. Otherwise, how can he tell if the spell is a success?

"You can't bring in Luke or Simeon, absolutely not. Never." MC is adamant about not involving anyone else. They hadn't noticed the angels reacting in any way to their period, but if it turns out they could also smell it all along? That's just too embarrassing. Let MC keep their perfect image of the angels intact. "You can't tell them about this, either."

"One of the brothers, then?" Solomon asks.

MC hmms and haws. They know for sure the brothers can smell it, but... That's not ideal, either.

"How about I summon Asmodeus or Barbatos? I can make sure they keep their lips sealed."

Barbatos is sure to keep quiet even without being asked, but MC doesn't want to involve anyone else. Especially not...

"Lord Diavolo? We can ask him? It has to do with his exchange program, after all," Solomon teased.

"We are absolutely not asking the crown prince of the Devildom to sniff my period blood." MC pressed their hands against their eyes. "I'd honestly rather perish on the spot. Can't you do anything? Invent some kind of sensor or a magic litmus test? Or... something. Make your nose better? I don't know." They didn't even know magic was real a few months ago.

"You know, you're right." If Solomon can't naturally smell it, a simple sense enhancing spell would do the trick. "You'd be okay with that?"

A few seconds of thought go by. "If it's you, yeah. I've already troubled you this much. Thanks for letting me rely on you."

Solomon says a few things faster than MC can catch and taps his nose. Suddenly, he's sniffing the air in an embarrassingly familiar way and MC's face turns red.

"I see." Solomon grabs a pen and starts jotting something down on a random page of an empty book.

MC curiously tries to look over his shoulder. Though, they're careful not to get too close. They still have dignity and want to mitigate their smell as much as possible. "What's that? You've already thought of a spell that can cover it up? You're a genius!"

"Hm? Oh, no. I thought of that ages ago. I'm taking notes on what you smell like. It's pretty unique now that I can sense it." All in the name of science.

Fighting cramps and lethargy, MC dives for the notebook and snatches it out of Solomon's hands. No way they're letting a record of this exist.

[inbabylontheywept]

The Condom Bomber

The crux of the story is Brother Dean. Brother Dean was…is…a hate preacher. Red or blue, everyone agreed on that. His origins and his motivations, those were a little more mysterious. Different groups had their own legends. I had a class with a guy that was part of the campus pro-life movement, and the tale he gave me is the one that I give the most credence to. According to him, Brother Dean had started out as a “normal” pro-life preacher. He’d gone around campus, led parades, given speeches… And then he’d gotten punched in the face.

This led to a lawsuit against the school. Something about failing to provide adequate protection? The main result was that he got something like half a mil. Half a mil is an incredible amount if you’re still working, but he’d tried to use the money to fund a sort of pro-life career, and it had just… trickled down. Ten years later he was running dead low on funds, and had taken to the particularly dumb strategy of trying to get punched in the face again. You know. For economic reasons. It had become kind of a vicious cycle: He’d started off saying some objectionable shit to try and goad someone into taking the punch. The worse the shit he said was, the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, and the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, the less he had to lose by saying really objectionable shit. Throw in two years of living on ramen, and he was so desperate to get punched that he was quoting the Westboro Baptists. If you know, you know. The pro-life group, to their credit, hated him the most out of anyone. They viewed him as the ultimate sellout, someone who was actively making their positions and beliefs look worse by the day, solely for his own enrichment. The other conservative groups held him in the same regard. The rest of the campus hated him for simpler reasons. It would be difficult to find anyone more detested anywhere else on site. Brother Dean’s antithesis was the Trojan Warrior. TW was a normal student by day, but maybe once a month or so he’d don his hoplite armor and roam around, handing out free condoms. Trojan condoms. It was kind of his shtick. Between the costume, and the whole character that he had going on, most people didn’t really recognize his alter ego. I myself am pretty good with faces, so one day I noticed he was behind me in the foodcourt and decided to thank him by paying for his smoothie. Small tangent, but if you’re looking to get good stories, buying lunches for interesting people works like magic. TW decided that he was going to thank me for thanking him by giving me something like 10 feet of condom roll. I was mortified, aggressively single, and on SSRI’s. He was not sure how many of those were permanent. I wasn’t either. He wound up giving me just a handful, and said that if nothing else, they could probably be used as water balloons. I accepted. Who doesn’t like water balloons?

I finished my lunch with the warrior and left, considering targets for the "balloons". I passed by Brother Dean near the main commons and had my lightbulb moment. I spent a few minutes watching him from a distance, trying to find the optimal angle to get him without getting caught on camera (he always had someone filing in the background, it was a necessary thing for his hopeful future lawsuit). The time delay was useful for helping me realize that it really wasn't worth it. The sun had been bearing down so hard that the glue in my shoes had melted, and getting him wet would be a favor that day. 

So, mildly disappointed, I shelved my dream and left. 

A week later the monsoons hit. I left one class and ran to a campus computer commons to try and get some shelter and study between classes. Just before I got through the door, I saw Brother Dean, umbrella in hand, setting up his speaker and mic. He wasn't technically allowed this far into campus (the commons were owned by the city) but he'd gone to where his audience was and security was probably holed up somewhere cozy. I could hardly blame them. 

I made it up to the second floor and started studying when the mic picked up. All glass buildings are not very soundproof. He was loud, and he was annoying, and he was outside a library, under a balcony, and-

And I had condoms. Water balloon condoms. 

And he was under a balcony. 

I put my laptop away, pulled out my condom roll, and went to the bathroom. I wasn’t sure how big a condom could actually stretch, so I just kept filling it until it was about the size of basketball. Maybe a smaller watermelon? And thus armed, I waddled my way out into the halls. I cannot emphasize enough just how unsubtle this was. I was cradling this big, overfilled condom like some sort of phallic ghost baby, and it was so heavy that I sort of had to squat as I went. People saw me. Lots of people saw me. I passed by one room full of computer science students, all learning C++, and three of them waved at me. And I waved back in that my-arms-are-full-but-I’m-excited-to-see-you-too way, where you jut your wrist up a little bit and flap your hand around excitedly. I did, eventually, make it to the balcony. The building’s high ceilings made the second-floor thing kind of a misnomer: I was easily forty feet up. I scooched my way to the edge, and the view I had… it was perfect. Brother Dean was directly underneath, thank God. If he’d been even seven or eight feet out, I’m not sure if I could’ve shotput the condom-bomb far enough to hit him directly. Better yet his cameraman was only a few feet away from him, far too close to catch any action going up 40 feet above. I managed to wrestle the payload onto the balcony, and with a gentle push, I sent it and Dean to destiny. I realized that I’d made a mistake almost as soon as the condom began to fall. You know that sound that bombs make in cartoons, that long drawn out whistle? The condom made that sound. I had a second education in the seriousness of my mistake when the condom hit Dean’s umbrella. It did not pop. Of course it didn’t pop. I had no experience with condoms, I swear to you, I promise, I did not know how much they could stretch. You can fit your whole leg into them. You can fit them over whole park benches. A gallon and a half of water was nothing compared to that. It broke Dean’s umbrella. It hit the top, and it snapped the stem like a twig, and then-

Violence. Unspeakable violence. It clipped Dean’s shoulder and stretched down to his knees before recoiling back to its original shoulder height. It did not bounce. It floated in space, no wasted energy in the collision. One hundred percent of the kinetic energy, all 3300 Joules of it, were discharged into this sad wretch of a man. He did not collapse. There was no time for that. He rotated on his axis. It was as if the hand of God had reached down and grabbed him about his waist, only to twist. In a fraction of a second, his head filled the space where his ass had been and his ass filled the space where his head had been, and then his cheek, carried by the shuriken motion of his body, slammed into the pavement with a noise like Shaq slam dunking a porkchop. Maybe wetter.

He did not move.

I panicked.

I want to make it clear: I did not mean to assault this man. I meant to get him wet and embarrassed. But I also have to confess that this was a beating. Mike Tyson himself can only put about 1600 Joules into one of his punches, and if he hit me I would bounce off five walls before I fell. I would not wish 3300 Joules upon anyone.

I walked into the building and sat myself in the back of the C++ class. The people next to, to my immense and eternal gratitude, did not question why I was wet.

A minute later, Brother Dean stormed into the building with his microphone.

He yelled. He screamed. He hollered. He informed the entire world that he had been assaulted, with a condom, by someone on the second floor. I was ecstatic that he was alive. 

Every person in that class knew who had brought this hell upon them. Every single one of them knew it was me. And if I’d done this to someone else, some Steven Crowder, some Ben Shapiro, someone would’ve thrown me to the wolves. It would have only taken one person in that room of sixty. But Brother Dean was hated by everyone, literally everyone, and so the entire class sat in silence.

Some of that silence was gleeful, and some of it was bored, and some of it, a very small amount, was directly disapproving, but even the disapproving silence carried an understanding. A note of, “Yes, yes, that was very irresponsible, and you should not do that again, but who could blame you? Something needed to happen. Not that something, but…something.”

Security could be given grace to ignore the man when it was raining, and he was just outside the building, but they were not given such grace when he was inside with a microphone. Just a few short minutes later, a golfcart pulled up, and he was summarily marched out. There was maybe a minute of silence after that before the professor announced that his class was not open to visitors.

I left. He’d made his point.

It was a few weeks before I saw Brother Dean again, and his black eye still hadn’t healed all the way when I did. He was, however, still preaching the same old things as always. Percussive maintenance works better on vacuum tubes than human brains. I will say that he definitely made a point to stay away from balconies after that. And the next time it rained, I actually went out to watch him put his speaker and his mic into the back of a wagon and wheel it off the campus.

It appeared that he’d developed some opinions about the kind of weather he was willing to preach hate in.

[thecryptidzenith]

Alright. So this episode was great, but in terms of themes & setting the stage for the rest of the story, this line really stands out:

"You feel something. You look, the Night Yorb twinkling. You've spent your whole summer chasing this. You know all the things you've missed. Your whole summer vacation, all of your friends. Some of you had birthdays on the road this adventure, and yeah, there's lots of adventure, but all of you feel a tiredness in your bones knowing that the reward for saving the world yet again will be going back to school and having another year of working just this hard forever."

This monologue from Brennan is the most thematically/foreshadowy thing we get in the episode, and it does set quite the stage. This is a story about exhaustion and the price of adventure. It's a story about what the hells these six people are going to do with the rest of their lives.

Fig releases something at the end of the episode. Some piece of magic that will certainly mean something later. This is how it's described:

"You've been holding onto a piece of magic for a long time... If you take me, you know what you would save. And you smell something sour and curdled."

"There is a flash of light, a kind of lemony yellow creamy light that flashes out over the hangvan."

Pay attention to that word choice. The magic is "sour" and "curdled" and "lemony yellow creamy." Is it reminiscent of anything?

Gilear's connection with yogurt is established pretty early on in Fantasy High, and yogurt in general serves as a symbol for everything that Gilear is. A sad, pathetic adult and A Normal Guy. Brennan is very insistent when reading out Gilear's stats for the first time that he's just a guy! Some people have to be normal!

But our Bad Kids aren't normal. That's the whole point of them. They've saved the world. Falling to Gilear's level is terrifying. It's literally Fabian's nightmare.

From that part of Pirate Brawl:

"You hear a voice behind you" [Gilear!Fabian] "say: 'It's all going to be all right... I know it seems very far off, but there is a way for you to be happy.'"

And of course, the yogurt, the symbol of mediocrity, is here too. "The yogurt curdles in your stomach." Curdles. The same word used to describe the magic coming out of Fig. The yogurt that Fig gives to Fabian while he's having his breakdown in Leviathan is lemon flavored too.

Of course the primary conflict seen in the trailer is about difficulty graduating. That's a normal problem. That's a normal concern for normal people.

The fear of mediocrity can be strong. Especially for people as exceptional as the Bad Kids. But the fear that you'd be happier taking the easier path, that the road less traveled isn't inherently better, that your hardship is for nothing... that's even worse.

The reasonable thing for Fig to be releasing would be the red growth seen on the minis in the trailer. But no. She releases something lemony and creamy and sour and curdled.

[milaisreading]

hi hi hi how are you? i hope you're warm this winter season <3

i saw you were accepting yandere blue lock requests and i wanted to request one🥺:

yandere ness with his sweet/bold gf and kaiser turns yandere for her later on

🌱🩷: SURE! I hope u like what I wrote and thank u for the request!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. It's a yandere fic, so please don't read if u don't like those themes. Requests for Yandere Blue Lock are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"Huh? Who is that?" The 9-year-old (Y/n) asked done of her classmates as they were leaving the school grounds. The two girls next to her turned to look in the direction (Y/n) was looking at, only to find a magenta-eyed boy playing alone in the snow, making some weird circles in the ground.

"That? That's Alexis Ness, he is in the same year as we are. Just a different class. Why do you ask?" A brown-haired girl asked.

"He seems... lonely. Should we go and play with him? It is a sad thing to play alone in the snow."

"What?! No way. (Y/n), he is a weird guy. Everyone stays away from him." A blonde girl said back, surprising the girl.

"Weird? He seems normal." (Y/n) said back as the brunette friend from before shook her head.

"You are way too naive, (Y/n). Trust me when I say he is weird."

"I heard he thinks he is a wizard and looks at some weird curse books. He even asked one of our teachers if our library has spell books." The blonde girl said as (Y/n) tuned them out for a bit.

'Spell books? He likes magic, too?' The girl thought in excitement as she observed the boy more. Suddenly, Ness looked up at her, his eyes widening in surprise. Smiling at his look, (Y/n) raised her hand, waving at him.

"Hii!! You have pretty eyes!" She yelled loudly, surprising not only her two friends, but also Ness. The boy blushed a visible red shade and said something, but nobody understood him since he was way too quiet with his reply.

"What are you doing?" The blonde girl scolded her silently, pulling her on one of her arms.

"He is giving me the creeps. Come on." The brunette girl added in, pushing (Y/n) away while the other dragged her by the arm.

"Hey! Don't be like that, he looks nice. And his eyes are pretty."

Ness watched the three girls leave, his eyes fixated on the (h/c)-colored girl as she repeated the same comment about his eyes. The boy's cheeks turning even redder as she repeated those words.

"My eyes... pretty?" The boy mumbled to himself, his heart hammering against his ribcage. A sense of disappointment hit him as the girl disappeared from his sight.

"As always..." The boy said, going back to playing in the snow. His thoughts were haunted for the rest of the day by the girl.

A week had passed since that incident, and Ness tried to forget about the whole incident. After all, nobody stays with him for too long. Why would that girl have-

"Hi! You are Ness Alexis, right?!" The boy jumped a little, looking up from the snowy ground and at the girl that was talking to him. The boy blushed a little, not used to this kind of attention from anyone, especially from a girl.

'It's her again?!' Ness gulped and slowly nodded his head.

"Y-yeah, that's me. How do you know me?" The boy asked cautiously as (Y/n) crouched down, looking at the small circles Ness drew into the snow.

"My friends remembered your name!" (Y/n) said, smiling at Ness. The boy's face grew even redder, slowly nodding his head.

"Why... why are you talking with me? Everyone finds me weird, you know?" Ness spoke up again which caused the girl to raise an eyebrow.

"Weird? I don't see it. You seem normal to me. What are those circles about?"The girl wondered, pointing at the snow. The boy stayed silent, face red as he mumbled something eventually.

"Huh? What did you say?" (Y/n) blinked, looking up at him in confusion.

"It's... Uhh to summon things." Ness repeated as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Huh? How does that work?"

"Are... are you really interested to hear that?" The boy gulped nervously.

"Yep! Show!" (Y/n) cheered as Ness slowly nodded his head.

And that's how their friendship started. Ness didn't know what exactly he did to make her interested in being his friend, but he wasn't going to complain. He found her curiosity cute, flattering even. Finally someone tried to understand him, unlike his siblings, parents, and kids in school. And although her friends tried to talk (Y/n) put of hanging out with him, she rejected the idea, even stood up for him.

Moments prior....

The classes had ended for the day and Ness went to look for (Y/n) in her classroom, she was always the last one to leave. The boy was in a quite good mood and couldn't wait to show her a new spell book he found.

"I am serious, (Y/n), that guy is weird." Ness stopped as he heard a feminine voice coming out of the girl's classroom. He knew that voice, it was the blonde friend. (Y/n) mentioned the girl's and the other ones name, but he never bothered to remember them. Partially because he felt slightly uncomfortable when her attention wasn't on him.

"He isn't. Please, give him a chance. Ness is really nice." The boy felt his cheeks heat up as he listened more.

'She thinks I am nice...'

"You say that now, but watch him pull something weird soon. Please, we worry about you. Why do you like playing with him?" The brunette friend said.

'What does she mean by that?' Ness was offended now.

"I like him, and he is fun to talk to. You guys don't have to be friends with him, I won't force you. But I won't stop hanging out with him."

Ness felt his cheeks flush once again. Nobody ever did that for him. Nobody ever opted to hang out with him after confronted by others.

"(Y/n)...." Ness mumbled as he felt a strange warm feeling fill up his chest.

Present time...

"Ness! Ness!" The boy jumped a little, startled by (Y/n)'s.

"Y-yes?" The boy wondered, surprised how close she was now.

"Are you alright? I was calling your name for a good minute." She asked in worry, which made the boy all giddy inside.

'She is worried about me!' Ness thought, nodding his head.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about a lesson."

"Oh, ok!" She smiled in relief.

"You wanted to show me something. What was it?"

"Yeah, I found a new spell that I wanted to show you!!"

A few weeks later...

Ness was used to the feeling of sadness, fear and loneliness, but rage? Rage was an emotion he never felt... until he saw (Y/n), his one and only friend get punched in the face. What was worse is that she got punched because of him. A group of boys had started insulting Ness and (Y/n), being as protective of her friends as she was, started arguing with them to stop. The verbal arguments slowly got more intense and in the end (Y/n) got punched. Ness was glued to his spot, eyes wide as his breathing grew heavier. The shock slowly turning into something he never felt before. He felt like destroying something, or rather someone.

"You got quite a big mouth for someone who hangs out with that weirdo over there."

"Don't say that...." (Y/n) glared back while holding her bruised cheek.

"What? You are a loser and he is a weirdo, maybe you two should hang out-"

"Don't say that about him!" (Y/n) yelled back now, punching the boy back. That caused him to fall down.

"He isn't a weirdo, you dumbass!!"

Ness watched in terror as the two started fighting, while the other 2 boys went to get a teacher.

Later that day...

Ness and (Y/n) sat in silence in the nurses office as the woman went to look for some bandages. The boy looked at her bruised face in guilt and anger. How could he not do something? How dare that guy hit her? Were some of the thoughts Ness had in his head. The boy clenched his fists and held back a few tears as he spoke up.

"Why did you do that? Why did you get hurt for me? I am used to those words, you shouldn't have jumped in-"

"You shouldn't be used to that, Ness!" (Y/n) yelled back, glaring at Ness. But, she wasn't mad, she was sad that he was used to it.

"I... I just don't like seeing you like this. You don't deserve it. And I would do this again for you, Ness."

"Ah..." The boy gasped a little as he stared at her with wide eyes. Something... Something definitely shifted in Ness that day.

Years had passed since then and both (Y/n) and Ness grew a lot closer since their elementary school days. During those years, Ness had developed a love for football, and while (Y/n) didn't understand much of it, she supported him in his passion. And while she was developed her own interests in art and fashion,Ness would be the first one to tell her to show her mentors the recent idea she got. Ness dubbed himself her #1 cheerleader, after all.

One thing that came to a surprise to (Y/n) was Ness confessing to and asking her out after he got scouted for Bastard München. The boy had worked up a lot of courage that day, and was over the moon that she said yes to him. He worked really hard on not only building up his courage, but also om getting rid of potential love interests of (Y/n). That part wasn't really that hard, now that he thought about it, a few intimidating words with his signature smile were enough to scare people off.

Ness already had planned out their future. (Y/n) will move in with him as soon as he got an apartment, then he will ask her to marry him, and they will live a happily ever after. But... Ness failed to see one person coming into their lives. His name would be Michael Kaiser... Bastard München's star striker.

It wasn't until his and Kaiser's first official game with the team that they met, and when they did... Ness was less than happy.

"Goo, Alexis!!! What a great assist!!" The magenta-eyed boy smiled as he heard (Y/n)'s loud voice and he turned to wave at her.

"Nothing but the best for you, (Y/n)!"

Kaiser, who was a few meters away, raised an eyebrow at the boy's words and the kiss he sent her.

"Hm? Who is that, Ness?"

"Huh? That's my girlfriend, (Y/n). She is so sweet and her smile is as beautiful as the sun." Ness sighed dreamily as he waved at her again. Kaiser pretended to puke and he grabbed the back of Ness' shirt.

"Focus on the game, idiot."

"Yes Kaiser, but don't insult me like that."

While most people didn't pay attention to the exchange, (Y/n) did. Her eyes narrowed at the blonde.

After the game had ended, most of the players went to change and take a shower, Ness, Kaiser, and their coach stayed behind for a while, which (Y/n) used as an opportunity to sneak up on Ness.

"Alexis, you did such a great job! I loved every second of it!" The girl cheered as she hugged the boy from behind. Ness blushed madly and turned so that he could hug her instead.

"You think? I was a little nervous in the beginning." Ness chuckled as (Y/n) nodded her head, kissed him on the cheek a few times.

"I couldn't be prouder of you." She smiled, causing the boy to stop and look at her for a moment.

"Really?" He asked with a red face.

"Ye-"

"Can you two stop that? You look so dumb." Kaiser's voice interrupted the two from talking further.

"Uh, Kaiser-"

"And you look like the rejected version of the Beast, what now?" (Y/n) said back, narrowing her eyes at Kaiser. The boy stopped for a moment and turned to look at (Y/n) as Ness tried to calm her down.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me." She rolled her eyes at his act.

"Now, mind your business." (Y/n) gave him a short fake smile and turned her attention back to Ness.

"Oh! I made you some dinner as well, since you told me you didn't eat anything. Come on." She said while pulling him towards the benches.

"A-ah... sure. Thank you, I completely forgot about that one." Ness blushed again. Kaiser was left both confused and shocked by what had happened. Not only did someone act like that towards him, but Ness didn't stop it either.

'(Y/n)... just what is wrong with you?' Kaiser thought as he looked at her for a while. He didn't even notice that he was staring until Ness glared at him.

'Weird... does she mean that much to him?'

For the next few weeks Kaiser spent some of his free time searching for (Y/n) on social media and observing her when she would visit Ness during practice. And every time she would visit, Kaiser would start an argument with her. It didn't even matter what the subject was, the weather, the clothes, the grass, they would argue. Ness would stop the arguments rather quickly, not wanting to get in trouble, but also because he wanted (Y/n)'s attention for himself. He deserved it! Kaiser won't steal those moments from him. He needed to stop whatever Kaiser had planned for (Y/n).

"Can you stop obsessing over my girlfriend, Kaiser. Get yourself another girl to fawn over." Ness asked, or rather demanded from the blonde as they changed in the locker room.

"What are you talking about, Ness? I hate her guts and you know it." Kaiset spit back as Ness sent him a side glare.

"Don't lie to me, Kaiser. I know that look, many guys had that same lovesick look around (Y/n), and all of them failed dating her."

Now, Kaiser wasn't usually the one to be confused, but this statement from Ness really took him by surprise.

"You must be stupid or blind, Ness. I do not like her, you can have her all for yourself. She just pisses me off." Kaiser repeated back with a much harsher tone. The magenta-eyed boy stayed quiet as he finished changing and then slammed the locker shut, surprising Kaiser.

"You better stay away, Kaiser. I won't let anyone get in the way of my happy future with her." Ness sent Kaiser a warning glare and left the room. The blonde stayed silent as he watched Ness leave, feeling even more frustrated now.

"That dumbass, can't he listen? I don't like that thing he calls his girlfriend!" Kaiser gritted his teeth.

"Her and that stupid know it all attitude. That stupid voice and those perfect eyes... and soft hair. The cute frown she makes when talking- What am I saying?!" Kaiser stopped himself as he realized where his thoughts were going. Slapping his cheeks a few times, Kaiser shook his head and continued charging into his clothes.

"I don't like that dumbass. She is just an annoying nobody. Ness can have her for all I care."

The blonde mumbled, trying to ignore the annoyance he felt from the last part.

That encounter happened last week, and Kaiser still to this day couldn't get Ness' words our of his head. Moreover, he couldn't get one particular line out of his memory.

'Can you stop obsessing over my girlfriend, Kaiser.' Repeated in his head whenever he caught himself looking at her pictures for too long, or whenever he found himself thinking of her. It was so weird, and it started affecting him to the point where he nearly injured his ankle. What was it about her that he even obsessed over? Maybe her personality? Or looks? It frustrated him to no end.

'I will end that dumbass once and for all-'

"Here." Kaiser's thoughts got interrupted by the same girl that was plaguing his mind for weeks.

"What is that?" The blonde wondered as he eyed the white container suspiciously.

"It's just some gel that is good to use for your muscles. Alexis said you nearly ruined your ankle the other day." (Y/n) replied back as she held the container in front of him.

"Why? Were you worried for me? I am touched." Kaiser smirked up at her, which made the girl a little angry, but she held herself back from yelling.

"No, I wasn't. I just don't want Alexis' team to lose because their star striker was too Charles's to look out for himself." She bit back.

'Because you idiot won't leave my head!' Kaiser wanted to say, he really wanted to put all the blame on her! But, he just couldn't bring himself to.

'Why?' The blonde wondered. (Y/n) stared at his silent figure, really curious as to what he was thinking, but she kept silent as well.

"Hmm... Alexis is back." She announced as the boy walked out of the locker room.

"Here, take it or leave it. I don't care. And, take care..."

Kaiser was shocked as he heard the soft tone in her voice and the gentle look that she sent him for a few seconds. The blonde looked back on the container that was put on the seat next to him. He hesitated for a moment, but then eventually grabbed it.

"Hmm..." Kaiser mumbled as he held the item and looked where (Y/n) was hugging and kissing with Ness. The blonde tightly grabbed onto it as his breath hitched up and eyes narrowed. What was this rage he was feeling? Kaiser bit his cheek as he kept on staring at the duo and wondered what it would feel like if (Y/n) kissed him like that.

'I wonder what her lips would feel like? Where they as soft as they looked?' Kaiser gulped, a red blush spreading across his face.

'And being so close to that scent of hers...'

Kaiser wanted to get lost more in his thoughts, but was interrupted as Ness opened his eyes and looked back at Kaiser, never breaking the kiss.

'Back off.' He could hear the boy say as he hugged (Y/n) tighter. And, in that moment something snapped in Kaiser. He didn't know what it was, nor did he care. The only thought running in his head was that he needed (Y/n). He needed her to be his. And his only.

[aliidarling]

i searched male manipulator music to find a song for this post LMFAOO anyways guys i dyed my hair burgundy:3 i’m in my red hair era

i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame ♡

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader

part 2

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: you get taken by the CRM by total coincidence and reunite with your lover who you haven’t seen in years, only to find out he’s only a fragment of the man he used to be

tags: p in v, praise, gaslighting, toxic!rick, manipulation, i’m bad at tagging

nsfw content below !!

You were lying barely alive in a field, bleeding out from your stomach. Your eyelids were heavy as you struggled to stay conscious, not wanting to die. You had so much to live for.

Everything was a blur, the blood staining your clothes. His name echoed in your head. It had been years since you saw the man you fell in love with. Ever since that day the bridge exploded, the day you lost him.

It had been almost eight years since then.

You supposed a normal person would have moved on by now, but his face and voice still haunted you, keeping you up during late hours and not allowing you to rest.

It would only be fitting that he was the last person on your mind during your last moments. You only could hope you were one of his before the bridge took his life.

Everything started to fade slowly, your ears ringing. Your eyesight was spotty. All you wished for was to reunite with him in the afterlife.

As you finally went still, the loud noise of a helicopter nearing went unheard by you.

You had no idea what was going on. You were being carried by two large soldiers wearing all black, holding you up by your arms as your body dragged on the floor. When you awoke, you were in an infirmary, all bandaged up and feeling better.

It was like they worked magic on you. The bandages around your abdomen were the only evidence of the stab wound that was once there.

“Where the hell am I?!” You yelled, your voice almost scratchy. They ignored you and continued dragging you towards a door in the hallway.

“Listen to me you fat fucks!” A screech left you as they shoved you inside the room, slamming the door behind you. You stumbled into the room, quickly regaining your balance as you clutched your side, the aggressive treatment opening your stitches slightly.

“Jesus, what the f… Your words were trailed as you looked up and realized four people were staring at you, all of them seated in a row with one empty seat in front of them. You blinked slowly.

One of them calmly smiled at you and motioned for you to sit. You gritted your teeth, looking around the room. Soldiers were standing by the walls, guns in their hands.

You sighed and hesitantly sat down, giving them a blank look.

It had been a week since then. They explained the overall situation you were in, and how they had found you half-dead in a field and saved you. You felt a little grateful, obviously, but you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling this place gave you.

The way they didn’t let you leave no matter what you said was what freaked you out the most.

“What do you mean I can’t leave?!” You snapped, raising your voice at the tall man before you. He had introduced himself as Okafor and was one of your superiors. For the last week, you had been dragged outside by the gate, handed a sharp spear, and instructed to kill walkers without any choice in the matter.

He rolls his eyes at you and frowns, staring down at you.

“Why would you want to leave? We’re giving you a place to stay with a small fee for some labor.” He scoffs, ushering you off back towards the fence.

“You’re being brainwashed.” You grumble, reluctantly setting your spear back up and pulling your mask down.

Another few hours of just stabbing walkers in the head passes, tiring you. You’re leaning against the gate, blood all over your clothes and the jacket they supplied you with.

“Good job, rookie,” Okafor comments playfully, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You grumble and push him off.

“This place sucks ass. I just wanna go home.”

Okafor hums and shrugs at you.

“Sorry to break the news, but there’s no chance. Only one man in history has attempted to leave, and even he didn’t make it.”

This sparks your interest for a moment before you sigh and turn away.

“Am I done for the day?”

Okafor grins and immediately shakes his head, making you groan and cross your arms. You had been in the heat for half the day now, you were sweating and all you wanted to do was go home and wash all this blood off you.

“We have a commander coming to do a check-in. He’ll be here in around ten minutes, so stay put.” The words leave him smoothly, not giving you even a second to complain before he turns away and starts talking to another one of his men.

With a groan, you picked up your spear and started stabbing the walkers again. You felt like that’s all you’ve been doing recently, other than planning on how to escape this place.

A few long minutes later, you hear a name being yelled that makes your heart stop.

“Commander Grimes!” Okafor yells happily as a tall man in a tactical suit walks up to him, his back to you. Your blood ran cold as you prayed that it was some coincidence.

Even still, if it was a coincidence it would still make you feel sick. The universe always had its way of making fun of you, and now it was making you hear his name everywhere.

You stared at the man’s back, silently praying that when he turned around it would be him. Or wouldn’t. You were confused with yourself— you didn’t know if you wanted to see him alive if it meant he was working for this corrupted military.

But your heart ached, even if the cons weighed you down. You found yourself staring, walkers long forgotten.

Okafor notices you staring and frowns, turning his attention from the commander to you with a wave of his hand.

“C’mere, rookie. You gotta meet Commander Grimes.”

Oh fuck.

Your legs felt wobbly like they could buckle from underneath you at any second. With your legs working on auto drive and your mind racing at a thousand thoughts per second, you found yourself walking towards the two men.

Once you reached them, the tall man slowly turned to look at you. It felt like should have been in slow motion, but in reality, it was all going way too fast.

The commander turned to look down at you, his blue eyes and curls making you want to vomit. It was him. Of course, it was him.

His eyes were emotionless, his face completely blank. He stared at you like you were any other person. Like you weren’t the woman he shared a bed with for years. The woman who helped him raise Carl.

“Sweetheart, your mask,” Okafor comments mockfully, making you grimace. That’s probably why he’s staring at you like you were a piece of dust.

“S-Sorry, sir.” Your voice cracked slightly as you quickly pulled your mask off, your hair getting tangled slightly. You quickly brush it out of your eyes, blinking rapidly. Gulping down the nausea, you looked back up to meet Rick’s eyes.

He was frozen, his lips parted and eyes wide, not making a single noise. His back was turned to Okafor, so only you could see the expression he had. The expression of shock, realization, and recognition.

After a long moment of silence between the three of you, you held your hand up to your temple and saluted him, your fingers trembling.

“Commander Grimes.” Your voice shook as you pressed your lips together.

He stared at you for another long few seconds before nodding, so subtle you barely noticed. Everything in his body was on fire, alarms blaring and his heart pounding.

There you were. Standing in front of him. Saluting to him.

“Welcome to the CRM, consignee..” He trailed on.

You held back a laugh before muttering your name, glancing at him, the ground, and then back to Okafor.

“Am I free to go?” You said rather harshly, your fists clenching.

Okafor gave you a once-over, judging your dirty clothes stained by walker blood and messy hair from the mask. He hums before waving you off.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll see you here at 8am tomorrow morning.” He mutters before going back into casual conversation with Rick.

As you walked away, you could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole into your back.

Just later that night, you were in your given apartment. It didn’t feel like home, like Alexandria. Your mind stayed on Judith and RJ, freaking out about whether they were alright or not.

Judith had stopped answering you a few days before you got captured. You knew a part of you was delusional for going out on a whole entire journey to find your lover when this whole time he was living luxury at the CRM. He was a commander, fuck.

What were you doing? Staying here? You needed to escape now, find Rick, and ask him what he was doing here. You wouldn’t leave without him, that was for sure.

You crawled up on your bed, hunching closer to the window. It led to a fire escape but was sealed tightly shut. For a place that says they never had anyone want to leave, they’re pretty cautious with these types of things.

Glancing at the mini kitchen, you got an idea. You grabbed one of the knives and got back on the bed and kneeled down next to the window and started to slide the knife between the slits, hoping to hear a crack or any type of noise that would alert you you’re going in the right path.

Not even mid-way through your little escape attempt, your door suddenly slammed open. You shrieked and dropped the knife, sitting up and turning towards your door.

Rick stood there, staring at you with a panicked expression. He shut the door, locked in, before turning back to you. He was wearing dark clothing still, but not tactical. Instead, he wore a button-up paired with jeans, with a leather jacket on top.

He rushed towards you and grabbed you, cupping your face with shaky hands and trembling lips. You immediately leaned back into him with the same expression, happy to finally be with him, and happy he still cared for you.

“You- you— why—“ He furrowed his brows as he patted you down in a panic, not believing the fact you sat before him. His hands were shaky as he cupped your face again and leaned down towards you, scanning every detail on your face.

“Rick, Rick— is it really you?” You gasped softly, sitting up further and pulling him in by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He places one hand on the back of your neck while his other stays on your back, pushing you into him.

“It’s me, baby, swear. S’me.” He soothingly brushes his fingers through your hair before gently placing his other hand on your chin. His thumb picks at your bottom lip.

“What are ya’ doing here, sweetie? How’d ya’ find me?” His voice was soft and gentle, lowered. His thumb gently pulls your lip down before leaning his down. He breaths onto your lips.

“I-I— I’ve been, I’ve been looking. I swear. Almost died and CRM took me.” You muttered shakily. Rick frowns and massages the back of your head gently.

“You almost died?” He mumbled and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. You whined softly, wanting nothing more then his lips on yours. Your hands clawed at his jacket. He giggles and pushes you down onto your bed, crawling over you and pressing your body down with his.

“You’re okay, now, right? Good girl, keep being good for me.” You nod in response as he kisses your neck, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands gently tug at his hair.

“Missed you.” You whimper into his ear, a soft moan leaving you as he nuzzles his beard into your sensitive flesh. His hips grind down on yours, the two of you desperate for each other.

“God, can’t even describe how much I missed ya’, gonna fuck you so good.” He almost whines. His hands come down by your sides and grab at you. He presses his lips against you hard.

A muffled moan leaves you as he sits up over you slightly. He pushes one of his knees between your legs and puts pressure against your core, his hand going to your shirt.

“I’m not gonna let you leave this time, kay’?” His eyes darkened as he said this, making you shiver. With a hesitant nod, Rick starts to pull your shirt off. Once you were topless underneath him, his lips pressed gentle kisses against every inch of your torso.

His breath brushed against your breasts. Your bra was the only thing separating him from your breasts. Without another second to spare, he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra.

This was all going so fast.

“Wait— Rick,” You whine softly, trying to sit up. He shushes you, cupping your breasts and pushing you back down, colluding his lips with your neck.

“Haven’t seen you in eight years, sweetheart. Nothing you do can get me off you.” He chuckles darkly, nuzzling his scratchy beard against your sensitive throat before pulling away and lowering his predatory gaze to your breasts.

A small moan left your lips as his hands started to massage your breasts, his warm palms gliding over your chest. Your nipples hardened, making him chuckle. He leans down, tweaking one of them with his finger and gently taking the other in his mouth.

Your eyes flutter as you find yourself being pleasured by the man you’ve been dreaming of for years— your body being treated like a vase. He was so gentle and soft with you, kissing every inch he could reach. His hands were soothing as they caressed you.

It still felt odd though. Something about his dark gaze and his possessive words had you shivering under him, looking up at his eyes. The new scars on his body had you wondering what he went through.

He was holding you close to his chest, hugging you tightly and humming soft little praises into your ear. His cock was buried deep inside you, your walls fitting him like a vise. He moaned into your ear, holding you so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up with bruises.

His hips rocked smoothly, pushing himself deeper and deeper, wanting all you could offer. He wanted every inch of you and never wanted to let go.

“Good girl, so good for me, pussy so tight around me,“ He groans into your ear. His voice was raspy as his hands tightened around you, one on the back of your neck and gripping it. He held your face towards him so he could lean down to give you kisses whenever he wanted.

His other hand went down to work at your clit, humming approvingly as you clenched down at the pressure and let out an adorable little mewl under him.

“Wanna cum? Hmm?” He coos, gently rubbing your sensitive spot, leaning closer, and nuzzling into your neck. His thrusts get harder.

“P-Please, Rick, love you so much—“ You choke out, grabbing at him to steady yourself as he batters your insides. Your toes curled as your eyes rolled back, broken whines leaving your throat.

“Oh, oh, oh God— p-please! I’ve been so good..” You cried out into his ear as your words started to slur together. Your lips were quivering as he kept slamming his cock into your tight hole over and over again, sending you right over the edge.

“Yeah, you gonna cum? Mmm, good girl, just like that,” He whispers softly as he pounds into you more as you spasm around him. He feels your little cunt go tight around him and let out your juices. He grunts at the feeling, burying himself as deep as he could as he closes his eyes and leans his head back, relishing in the feeling of cumming inside you for the first time in eight heat.

“Yeah, sweet little baby. So good for me.” He groans as he fucks you gently through your orgasm, listening to your shaky moans and cries as your release keeps getting dragged on and on, more cum leaking out from your hole.

With a shaky sigh, he makes sure he has completely milked you out before slowly pulling out, small squelching sounds filling the silence. Your breaths were shaky, and so were his, both of you exhausted after the passionate love-making session.

“Rick..” You mumble tiredly, looking over at him. You lay limp on the bed, your pussy a mess with both your cums dripping out.

He smiles and looks over, now standing up and reaching for his boxers. He leans over you and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, his thumb squishing your cheeks together.

“I’ll clean you up, kay? Gimme a sec, hun.” He says sweetly before pulling away once again and walking off to your bathroom.

A few minutes later the two of you laid in your shitty bed together, the mess between your thighs cleaned up. You were currently receiving a back massage from him, oddly enough. You laid on your belly as his large hands worked on your back muscles.

He stared down at you, admiring every little change in your body. He wished he was there for you all those years he wasn’t.

“What happened?” You asked softly, peering at him from over your shoulder. You felt him press his thumb down on a knot in your shoulder, making you whine softly.

“…You want me to start from the start?” He chuckles dryly. You give a hesitant nod.

“…Anne found me.. half dead on the riverbank. She was working with the CRM and turned me in, saved my life.” He spoke with a small hint of gratitude in his words, masked by his deadpan tone.

You continued to lay there silently, enjoying the back massage but still wanting him to explain everything. Was that all he was gonna say?

“..And? Did they— did they force you to stay? Did they hurt you?” You stuttered, wanting some type of explanation why he never came back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it if you found out he had willingly stayed here for eight years.

He was silent for a moment, his palm pressing down on your shoulder blades and rubbing in small circles. His eyes gaze down at you, wondering what to say to make himself not sound like the bad guy.

“No.” He mutters after a moment.

You felt like your entire world had shattered again, like he was being ripped from your arms like that day on the bridge.

“Why didn’t you try to come back?” Your voice cracked, making him realize he had screwed up. He hesitates on what to do before quickly pulling you into his arms, rubbing your back gently, and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I did, sweetheart, promise. Tried a few times, but they stopped me. Made me realize what this place was. It’s life-changing, baby, you gotta give it a chance. I want you to stay here with me, kay? For me? Please, you gotta do it. If you loved me you’d stay, wouldn’t you?” He whispers soothingly, his words like daggers as he holds you tighter with every passing second.

“W-What? Rick? No— I can’t—“ You attempted to pull away, making him growl and push you down on the bed, crawling over you and planting his arms on each side of you.

“No, you gotta listen to me.” He says firmly, his eyes dark. Who was this man? Why was he treating you like this? The Rick you knew would never speak to you like this.

“Rick—"

He shushes you.

“You’re staying here with me, got it? It’s safe here. You’ll be safe. Don’t you wanna stay with me? Don’t you want tonight to happen over and over again?” He whispers, his dark tone turning into a sickeningly sweet one, his hand coming to cup your cheek and gently caress your skin.

“I can't, Rick. What about A-Alexandria? Judith? Maggie and Daryl— they’re all— you need to come home! This place isn’t good, good for you, good for us.” You attempt to plead.

Your words fall on deaf ears as he shushes you again, the dark look in his eyes coming back. He stares down at you in an almost offended manner.

“Are you trying to manipulate me?” He scoffs, sitting up and giving you a disgusted look. You freeze, quickly sitting up and attempting to reach for him. He clicks his tongue and pushes you away.

“I cant believe you sweetheart, just got me back, and is already trying to fall for your words. I thought you loved me?” He whispers slowly, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

Your heart stops as his words settle in your throat, your eyes wide. Panic overtakes you as you quickly pull him back in and hug him tightly, trembling now.

“N-No, no, I swear— I wasn’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Rick, please don’t leave me.” Your words are small and fearful, fearful of him leaving you after you just found him.

His eyes soften as he keeps the sick grin from overtaking his face, his hands going to gently cradle you in his chest. He hums sweetly, rubbing your head.

“It’s okay, I know you’re just a lil’ confused. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart. I love you, okay? I’ll keep you safe and sound, just gotta stay here with me, can you do that? For me?”

“Y-Yea— yes, yes, anything for you.” You stammer, curling into his arms with watery eyes and shaky limbs. You didn’t want him to leave you, not again.

“Good girl. Knew you’d snap back to reality.” He chuckles dryly. His large hands hold you close to him, humming gently into your ear and rocking your small body.

The two of you lay there for a long time until you were asleep and gently snoring, and he was staring down at your vulnerable form, thinking.

You weren’t gonna go anywhere, and he’d make sure of that. He had searched for you for too long to let you slip away now, he’d rather die than watch you leave. He just needs to find a way to get Judith here, and you’ll all be the happy family you once were.

He’d make sure you had nowhere to go, even if it meant hurting you and twisting your sight on the world.

lmk if u want a part 2? idk what i could make happen but there's def potential

[cosmerelists]

Conversations Happening In The Stands When Kaladin Broke Relis' Shardplate Through A Kick in the 4v1 Duel

As requested by anon. :)

This anon wanted me to imagine what people said when Kaladin--just a normal darkeyed guard so far as anyone knew--freaking cracked a dude's shardplate by kicking it during the 4v1 duel. So here are some conversations I think might have happened in the stands!

1. 

"Storming hell--did you see that? That guard just kicked that guy and now the guy's shardplate is cracked!" "Oh…..okay. This makes way more sense now." "It…It does??" "Yeah! This is obviously staged." "….Staged?" "Ha ha, come on! You can't KICK shardplate into cracking! That can't be real shardplate. It's clear this whole thing is staged. Probably some sort of machinations that Dalinar and Sadeas came up with together." "Man, if you start with that stupid conspiracy theory again…" "I'm TELLING you! Their FEUD is FAKE and they are DATING!" "…Just watch the duel."

2.

"Uh…was that cracking sound the man's legs or the Shardplate?" "It must have been his legs! Poor guy." "No! He's getting up! I think…I think it was the Shardplate!" "He….he broke the Shardplate by KICKING it?" "No…it must have already been cracked...right?" "He did knock the Shardbearer over, though. With the kick." "Y-Yeah….I guess he never skips leg day…" "…" "…" "This duel just keeps getting crazier!"

3.

"Ugh. I don't think Relis is ever gonna live this down. Imagine being knocked over by a dude with no armor and a spear." "A darkeyed guy with no armor and a spear." "Yeah…humiliating." "We gotta uninvite him from brunch." "That's harsh but fair."

4.

"Hey, uh…just how strong are darkeyes' legs?" "They appear to be very, very strong." "Do you think I should treat my employees better?" "That's your takeaway?!"

5. 

"I didn't realize Relis' shardplate had grown that weak! Even a kick could crack it!" "Ha ha, yeah! And that guard was TOTALLY knocked over even so!" "Shardplate is so strong and magnificent, but if you strike it when it is very, very weakened, even normal human strength can do it in." "That is definitely my takeaway too." 

6.

"I knew Bridgemen's arms must be strong from, like, carrying the bridge. But I didn't realize their legs were so strong too!" "Well, what do you think they were using to run all that way?" "Still, though!"

7. 

"Oh Almighty I think he broke his legs!!!" "No, no--he's fine! Look!" "But…I could have SWORN they bent weirdly for a second." "Don't be ridiculous--what, do you think his legs just magically healed?" "No…that would be ridiculous." "Ha ha yeah!"

8.

"I can see why Dalinar chose a bridgeman to be his head guard." "Yeah." "I'm afraid." "I'm afraid too."

9. 

"I can't imagine caring that much about my job." "Hmmm?" "If my bosses' sons were in danger like that, I'd be like, 'Whelp, good luck with that.'" "That man's a guard, though." "I'm a guard." "Oh…right." "And I'm telling you. I ain't kicking any enemies in Shardplate for my boss." "That's just a healthy work-life balance." "Do you think we should give Stormblessed one of our pamphlets?" "If he survives, then definitely."

10.

"[sighs]" "…Why are you sighing dreamily?" "It's just--imagine being the sort of man where if you see a fully armed Shardbearer heading for your beloved, you immediately attack! Even if you have no armor or weapons and your life is on the line!" "He has a spear." "Spears don't count as weapons in a Shardblade duel." "Well but -- wait. Did you say 'beloved'?" "Um, yeah. What fight are YOU watching?" "Ugh. If you start in with that STUPID conspiracy theory again…" "I'm telling you! Adolin and Stormblessed are DATING and that red-haired chick is just their BEARD!" "...Just watch the duel."