#a few moments can be saved but it was a bad time in general and i'm in the process of gaslighting myself into thinking it never happened

[cherrygarden]

,

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS Spicy Headcanons | 18+

Well I did generalized headcanons for the boys, now we need to get into the spice headcanons. Which honestly is one of my favorite things to write. I regret nothing when it comes to Rafayel's part.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: 18+ Headcanons, Cockwarming, Consensual Somnophilia, Sexting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bathtub Sex, Mentions of Oral (M!Receiving), Non-Human Anatomy

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

One of the kinkiest men you will ever meet. Is willing to try everything at least once if given the option. The worst part is he doesn't seem like the type at all until you're in the bedroom with him and you realize you might be in danger.

He is normally on top, but doesn't mind being a switch, especially when he's tired. If you want to take charge and pamper him, then by all means. As long as you don't tease him too much he'll let you do just about anything. If you tease him though...well you won't be on top for very long. The moment he loses control you'll be bent like a pretzel.

Xavier has more length than girth, and god damn is he able to use that to his advantage. If anything his dick is actually kind of pretty, with a few prominent veins on it and a soft pink tip. Now how he uses it...he will learn your body so well that he can perfectly angle himself inside of you and make you see stars. There is no saving you at that point.

Xavier can't say he has a favorite position when he's taking you. As long as he can be inside you in some way, shape, or form, he's content. If he had to choose though, he likes being in a spooning position with his cock buried into your heat, his hand on your hip and face in the crook of your neck while he whispers the filthiest things in your ear.

Despite having a larger sex drive than most would think, he doesn't masturbate as often. Anytime he's in the mood he might start, but if he doesn't have you with him it's not as exciting and he often times finds himself wanting to doze off. Only time he'll finish himself off in his own hand is if you're with him, or on call with him and he can hear you moaning as you touch yourself to the sound of his voice.

Xavier can and will send you spicy text messages while you're at work. He's a lot more careful with sending photos though since he'd hate it if you opened an image of him in public and had someone else see on accident. Not because he's ashamed of his body, but because he hates the thought of embarrassing you while you're working. He will, however, happily accept a spicy photo of you at any point in time. He even has a privacy screen on his phone so nobody can accidentally see it.

While Xavier is pretty kinky, he does have a few he is partial to. He likes cockwarming, especially after you two finish. If he had the choice he'd fall asleep with his length still deep inside of you. Another one would be somnophilia, as long as both parties consent to it of course. Xavier feels bad he's always sleeping, so if you ever wanted to use his body he'd be more than happy to let you. Not to mention it would make an amazing wake up call.

Zayne

Out of all three love interests, Zayne is the most tame when it comes to kinks. While he is happy enough to indulge you with whatever you want to try out, he is very much content with plain vanilla if that's what you request. Honestly whatever works out for the both of you is what he likes.

Now despite him being fine with vanilla sex, if you suggest trying something a bit more out there, he's probably all for it. Especially if you ask him to dominate you. He's already the top when it comes to sex, even if you're riding him he's holding your hips and controlling the tempo. If you ask for more Dom/Sub dynamics, he'll research it heavily before trying anything.

Zayne's dick is an absolute monster. Not only is it girthy, there's also quite a bit of length there as well and the veins lining the length only add to the sensations. It's the kind of dick that you have to whisper "Never back down, never give up". You won't be walking straight for days. It's the kind of cock that might put you in a wheelchair. It's a damn good thing he's a medical professional because his dick might actually destroy you, and yet you'll still be begging for more. Half the time he doesn't even put it in all the way so that you'll have a chance at being able to go to work the next day. And good luck sucking him off, not even a master could fit his entire dick down their throat.

Zayne's favorite position would have to be you riding him. He'll sit down on a couch with you on his lap, your chest right in front of him so he can nip and suck at it. His hands having an almost bruising grip on your hips as he guide you up and down on his length. Your small whimpers as he tells you how good you are for him. To Zayne, literally nothing can beat the view of you bouncing in his lap.

Zayne hates having to take matters into his own hands, literally, but sometimes if he doesn't have you with him he needs to do something. Memories of your nights together will be going through his head until he's painfully hard and can't sleep or work. He's not vocal when he masturbates unless he's on call with you, and even then it's small grunts here and there.

Zayne will avoid sending you pictures that are explicit. He might send more teasing photos to you every now and then, but nothing too bad. He's also careful about sending steamy messages. Normally if he does, it's to inform you of what's to come later in the day and it doesn't go too far. When you two are away from one another for long periods of time, he will video call you for some play time. Sometimes he'll even edge you, telling you not to cum until he gets home (which is torture for those business trips that last literal weeks).

Rafayel

As long as you're willing, Rafayel is more than happy to explore certain kinks with you. Of course only after you both look into it together. He loves teasing you about them while you two look into it, his body draped over your own while his hands explore your exposed skin, asking if you wanted to try the kink you're reading about right now.

He's a switch without a doubt. When he's bottoming he's nothing but a brat trying to be a power bottom and take control of the situation. When he's on top he is a huge tease, coaxing you into begging him for his touch. Either way, sex with Rafayel is always fun. Normally it's a small battle of dominance to decide who tops and bottoms.

Rafayel has more length than girth, and can definitely be called above average in that department. He isn't huge though, but just the right size to make you feel completely full. He also knows how to use it, making you whimper out his name as he slowly drags his length against your warm walls. His dick is pretty smooth as well, the veins not being very prominent. It is extremely sensitive to your touch though, and it's so easy to get him riled up just by running your hand over his pants.

To nobody's surprise, Rafayel likes to take you in the water. Whether it be in the pool, his tub, or the ocean. He has to admit you look amazing while the two of you are in the tub, your hands gripping the edges as you slowly ride him. His hands playing with all your exposed parts, teasing you and slowly bucking his hips into your own. Watching you cum and collapse onto his chest, panting his name as he continued fucking into you while you cling to him until he finishes, sometimes dragging another orgasm out of you.

Rafayel can and will masturbate to the thought of you whenever he has so much of a dirty thought. He's so down bad for you that he can't help himself. Just remembering how your skin feels against him, or how you whimper his name is enough to get him hard. He's not afraid to admit he's had to escape to the bathroom at one of his exhibits before just to get it out of his system. He can and will inform you about how it's all your fault and how you need to take responsibility.

Speaking of how you'll be informed if he masturbates, he will send you photos when it happens. His hand wrapped around his cock while in a closet during an event. Sometimes you'll see the cum dripping from the tip as he tells you n detail what you do to him. If he's at the studio, he'll call you up moaning your name, asking when you can come over. Of course this doesn't happen daily, but it is smart to make sure to have a privacy screen for your phone as well as headphones when you answer one of Rafayel's video calls if you're in public.

Lemurian Form

Rafayel is significantly more sensitive to touch in his Lemurian form. Feeling your hands tracing over his delicate scales will send shivers right down his spine.

He has two...and they're not small either. He has a slit in his tail that's softer than the rest and if you play with it enough, his cocks will come out. They're stacked, one on top of the other. The bottom one is about the side of his normal dick, but the top is significantly bigger.

They're tapered as well, coming to a soft point at the tips. The base of his cock has soft scales that are extremely sensitive (touching them the first time made him cum instantly). The rest of his length is a soft blue color that gradients to a more flesh tone at the top.

His cum is bioluminescent.

[kissedloveletters]

hand holding , multi. ₊˚ ♱

♱ note . aaa hi my loves ! sorry for the lack of inactivity (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞.. i’ve got a few fics in the drafts to make up for it! here is part one.

♱ characters . muichiro , inosuke , zenitsu , genya , tanjiro

♱ warnings . head canons, angst on genya’s part if you squint

muichiro’s hands are tough from the consistencies of training and hard work, didn’t became a hashira in 2-3 months for nothing. but it isn’t sandpaper bad. cuts liter his palms often — also gets some what clammy

his hands are average in size for his age, or even dainty. he has slim fingers with average sized palms.

his nails run a little unkempt and are sometimes cracked, his cuticles are a little roughed up from fighting. also doesn’t care much for nail care but likes it when you take care of it for him, or even tells you to do it — he likes the feeling of your hands on his; the warmth radiating from your hands is pleasurable.

he gets a lot of cuts often, sometimes when he’s reading he gets on purpose to ask you to help him tend them or bandage his wounds, he likes your touch, a lot.

extra. physical touch is actually one of his love languages and quality time, which is why he does these on purpose.

if you scold him he would have puppy eyes and say it won’t happen again ( it will ).

^ but is happy you care for his wellbeing!!

defiantly plays and / or massages with your fingers. traces the wrinkles on your hands, oh and also kisses your fingers one by one so very gently and lovingly, like if he pushed down too hard you’ll shatter like glass

his fingers are cold but not uncomfortably so it’s comforting to feel on a warm day

swings your hands when your holding hands

his grip is soft and he likes intertwining your hands, he gets this stupid little smile and can’t stop staring at both your hands intertwined

he doesn’t care who stares or comments he loves holding your hands so it happens often, if he can’t for some reason he’ll hold your inner arm or a piece of your clothing ( most likely your hoari / back of your shirt )

genyas’s hands are on the rough side, but his touch is still just as gentle despite the textured skin. because of him eating demon flesh gives the after effects of his skin being more thick and hard.

especially his fingers from using a gun instead of a kitana

his hands are above average with wide fingers, most likely from him eating demon flesh. but nevertheless his hands temperature can go from warm and cold, it mostly runs on cold though.

he has a few cuts littering his fingers but they disappear as much as they appear.

when he ‘becomes’ a demon his nails grow more than his average and more sharper, has a hue of yellow and black — naturally, his nails are sorta uneven and short.

he likes it when you offer to cut his nails and take care of it for him, it saves him trouble but feels bad he’s letting you take care of it and not him, so he tries to help the best he cans.

his hands are clammy when you hold hands cause of how flustered and nervous he is, but you don’t comment or mind it.

his grip is loose, but tender. it firms up at times—like while in a crowd so he won’t lose you or in vulnerable moments

sanemi used to hold his hands when younger and those memories come around his minds when he spaces out while holding your hand, it usually causes his grip to firm up and if you comment how hard he’s squeezing your hand he’ll apologize and stop

he’s flustered and embarrassed holding your hand in public but is proud of himself if he initiated it first. generally way more affectionate in private but still gets red

extra . you two could be watching fireworks at a festival and then he goes in and holds your hand while your looking at the fireworks aaa

so by that, holding hands with him is somewhat rare, unless if your overly affectionate then it would be way more, he doesn’t mind it or anything he’s just shy doing pda — you could just hug him and he’s tomato red.

tanjiro’s hands are pretty rough for the high amounts of training and combats he’s endured especially after the hashiras’ training, but nothing like sand paper bad like inosuke’s. there’s a few cuts littering his fingers but it isn’t major

his hands are above average with slightly slim fingers.

his hands run on the slightly above average size, his hands run warm; good for the winter!

his nails are taken care of, not as much as it was before. trims his nails short from time to time since they grow a bit long since he neglects nail care often.

but offers to do yours! if you aren’t good at taking care of yourself cause of your living circumstances as a demon slayer then he’s happy to do it for you even if you can for yourself — he’s happy to help you.

likes it when you do it for him also, the touch of your hand will always be a enjoyment for him!!

tanjiro’s grip is tender yet firm, you’re one of his reason to live and fight for and would do anything to protect you at all costs. he squeezes your hands especially if either of you came back from a mission.

hand holding with him is regular, if you are a demon slayer then he holds your hand while walking to or back from your missions. he also holds your hands for comfort, expect in serious situations.

inosuke’s hands are rough, he grew up on the mountains so his hands are somewhat close to sandpaper texture, though his hands get clammy. he has scars and cuts on his hands—one or two bruises—cuts regularly pop up.

his hands are above average with big palms and thick fingers, it’s regular for his hands to have dirt on them

his nails and cuticles aren’t the greatest compared to when you took care of them for him, he does a lot of training so his hands’ appearances take the brute of it.

more times than none he’ll accept your help on keeping them trim and dirt free, but he doesn’t really try much to help since it feels a tad pointless to him, but he likes your hands on his.

while training he’s prone to a lot of nail crack/breaking and half the time it slips his mind unless it scratches his skin or something. in which he stops training to search for you to help him clean it.

extra . the same actually goes to muichiro and genya ^ lmao

inosuke’s grip is all over the place, his hold is clammy and there’s always dirt involved to an extent. he’s not really sure how to do the whole hand holding without squeezing too hard and breaking your hand or holding it too loose he loses your hand

he gets jealous if you hold someone else’s hand for helping them and will turn it into a competition for the other person of who held your hand the most, and the person is like : ????

you can scold him but it doesn’t sound very scary coming from you, but it makes him feel fuzzy when you express you care for him.

extra . probably ruins the pure moment by saying lord inosuke can handle anything and then you go along saying that you forgot he’s the the king of the mountain and that he can endure anything LMAO

holding hands with inosuke he’s secretly touch starved so he’ll sometimes take to holding other parts of you if your hands are busy or he really tends to silently hug you

zenitsu’s hands are average in size, they run stupidly warm and occasionally clammy when he’s flustered.

his cuticles and nails are unbothered, surprisingly his nails are cut since he takes care of himself often.

LOVES it when you take care of his nails and you both talk about everything and nothing, or just a silence is so nice with your hands on his — and defiantly looks at you with a awe expression

holding hands with zenitsu is common. he’s lovesick and touch starved, especially for comfort or reassurance when he’s scared.

when you first held his hand was probably for reassurance, his hands was clammy during the time since he was flustered by your action — and scared of the demons — but it was nothing you minded

another one who would swing your hands ^^

saying he will protect you while holding your hand tightly and eyes moist, threatening to almost sob from fear.

extra . he probably feels ashamed because all he did was cry and then you reassure him it’s alright since it’s literally flesh eating demons and you both were about to piss your pants

defiantly sees couples comparing hand sizes and intertwining their hands slowly, then has a thought of wanting to do it with you. ( you both did )

his grip is firm and soft, he knows how to hold a woman’s hand and treats you delicately, though what i said before he does hold your hand too tight, apologizes if he thinks it’s too tight but sometimes doesn’t notice because of the fear he’s accumulating

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Thinking about (Series)

God Gojo who couldn't care less about the mortals and Goddess Reader who couldn't care more about the mortals.

God Gojo who considers you a friend, maybe more he's not sure and he doesn't want to be sure. If his feelings for you was love then it'd be a taboo, you only see him as a friend- he's not in love, that was just a hypothetical situation. The uncomfortable, bubbling in his stomach when he sees you cheerfully talk with other Gods wasn't his problem neither was the tiny clench in his heart at the sight of your smile.

God Gojo who's actually worried about the mortal realm this time because the situation was going from bad to worse, the drought on the mortal realm was killing everyone and everything. A disruption in the balance of life. Though omnipotent Gods they were, they needed worshippers.

Worshippers that were rapidly decreasing.

So he watches in horror as you volunteer to be the sole individual to go down and save the remaining mortals, your kind heart no longer able to ignore their prayers and cries.

"Your golden blood is hardly fit to step on that defiled land." He urges you to change your mind but all you do is shake your head with a smile.

It was your duty you say, your responsibility as the Goddess of Life and that he should know better as the God of Heaven and Earth to stop you.

God Gojo who gives in reluctantly, unable to refuse your plea to do your job, it was only right.

So he grasps your hands in his as he makes you promise him to come back. Back to him once everything was done and over. All he remembers is the adoring smile on your face, the squeeze of his hand and the two words whispered back to him before he watches you descend. Your back towards him and the scent of life fluttering in the air, the cheers of the crowd all but silent when your presence finally disappears from the ethereal abode.

God Gojo who can't help but smile to himself when he sees the dying earth blooming with life again after a few decades. Living up to your name as you single-handedly bring forth the very thing you were sent for, speckles of pride blossoming in his chest when he hears praises of your name resounding from every corner of the the once dreary place.

New temples erecting in your name, the population growing ever large and kingdoms rising to it's fame again. All he can do is excitedly wait for your return and perhaps start preparing a small welcome back party? Nothing grand, of course. He'll just invite half of the heavens and maybe some more. It'll be very small. A very, very small gathering.

God Gojo who can't seem to sit still, tossing and turning in his seat uncomfortably in the middle of his work as his heart clenches painfully- too painfully. His skin crawls with invisible bugs and dread as his assistant, a lower God in-training, hurriedly rushes in.

The mortal abode was no longer occupied, he says breathlessly. Worry etched in his face at the sight of the stone-faced God in front of him.

"The mortal abode is available to be entered again, the Goddess of Life's presence is no longer"

God Gojo who doesn't wait for a moment longer, pushing past everyone as he rushes towards the gate separating the mortal and ethereal abode. Their screams to stop all but a buzz as he crosses the gate, quickly falling down to Earth with his heart in his throat as his feet touches the soft grass beneath him.

He needs to find you. You're either dead or in the demonic realm, dead or kidnapped. He wishes for the latter- exactly who does a God pray to? He doesn't know but he prays, he hopes, he wishes that you're anything but dead because he'll come to save you then, even if it means war.

God Gojo who wanders the mortal abode in a human form for a year, searching the ever changing gate of the demonic realm only to hear of a King who struck gold. Enough gold to last him till generations forgotten, they whisper, which was impossible.

He knows every gold vein, had personally counted the amount of gold deposits in the mortal abode, that shouldn't be possible unless-

♡

God Gojo who can't believe his eyes, his six eyes not doing justice to the sight in front of him as he stumbles forward to your ancient temple's courtroom in the far end of the world. His body weighing heavy at the sight of your lifeless body hanging upside down, hands tied behind your back and feet binded by coarse ropes to the ceiling, hanged like butchered meat for sale- drops of your sacred golden blood splattered below you and on rusty buckets besides you.

All life drained from your body. All blood drained from your body. Your beautiful blood of gold, the rosiness of your cheeks, the large slit in your neck- all he can do is shakily claw at the rope with blurry eyes, desperate mutters of no's pouring out of his lips as he hugs your cold body and presses his face against your stomach.

Gently undoing the ropes and bringing you down, he traces the indented marks in your hand as he brings it up to his lip. Kissing it and quietly curling into a ball with you on the cracked marbled floor- he doesn't know for how long, he doesn't care. All he can do is mutter gentle incoherent words and caress your bluing cheeks.

All humans have two choices when they die, the demonic realm or the ethereal abode but what about a God? Where does a dead God go?

God Gojo who finally brings your body back to the ethereal abode, placing your body in a glass case between the Calla lilies and chrysanthemums in his castle's garden - away from eager eyes to see an actual dead God. He personally sees to the appointing of the new Goddess of Life who suspiciously resembles you- no one dares to point it out, his mood is bad enough as it is.

God Gojo who declares war against the mortal and demonic realm, dead set to personally see to the extinction of your murderers and instigators entire bloodline.

Blood for blood, no drop will be spared.

__________________________________________________

Tryna get my groove back 😔

Masterlist ♡ Serieslist

[coca-lastic]

How would the MHA characters make the tiktok trend about ranking kisses?

If you don't know what trend I'm referring to, here it is

Characters: Hawks, Bakugo, Denki, Kirishima

Hawks is a sweetheart, we all know that. Additionally, he has a very strong presence on social media.

In the event that your two relationship is already public, he would record the tiktok as soon as you ask and publish it. If it's not public, then he would just test the filter and then save it to drafts.

He loves doing this type of things with you, he thinks it's an excellent mix between quality time and body touch, so when he has time he will please you with these types of activities.

Now, how was the kisses ranking?

1. Neck kiss: Do I have to explain? He just loves to get between your neck and kiss every spot. But he loves it more when you do it to him, it relaxes him and he likes the sensation of tickling and pleasure that it causes. I do not have doubts.

2. Lip kiss: Oh he loves your lips, and you love his, that explosion of love is just his second favorite.

3. French kiss: Ok ok, this was a battle against the kiss on the lips. I mean, they look a lot alike and I think Keigo loves both, but he thinks that the French kiss doesn't express as much feeling as a kiss on the lips can. The French kiss almost always indicates a specific thing, u know?

4. Forehead kiss: It seems to him a very tender sign of love, it is not as profound as the previous ones, it is just a small act that for someone as observant (and sensitive) as him can be the reason for his happiness for the next few hours.

5. Earlobe kiss: He likes the tickling sensation it generates, he finds it a very funny but hot feeling at the same time. He also likes it because he can hear your voice close to his ear.

6. Spiderman kiss: He probably just realized that that's pretty cute, but I firmly believe that after doing this trend he would appear from time to time flying above you to kiss you just like Spiderman does.

7. Cheek kiss: A bit the same as the kiss on the forehead, but the reason why this one is lower on the top is because normally you prefer to kiss him on the forehead, there is something about his hair and his eyes that makes you have the tradition of doing it there and not on the cheek.

8. Hand kiss: He doesn't do it very often, but when one of the two of you decides to do it, he finds it a mix of elegant and sexy, he likes it.

9. Nose kiss: Cute, just that, he finds that just cute.

10. Air kiss: "If you want to send me a kiss, come and give it to me on the lips"

Well, let's say you had to force him to do it. I mean, he likes spending time with you, but he prefers to keep it between the two of you, maybe watching a movie or just talking, but getting all those kisses didn't seem like a totally bad idea to him.

Of course, he didn't publish the video, once again it's because he prefers to leave his romantic moments private, he likes it intimate.

But, his top was like this:

1. French kiss: He likes it when you give him kisses like that, he finds it sexy on your part, and he also likes the combination of roughness and gentleness that exists in that kiss.

2. Earlobe kiss: He likes to be able to listen to you while you show him affection. Plus you usually do it when he's so focused on something that he doesn't listen to you, so it's a surprise to put your lips on his ear, he likes that.

3. Neck kiss: He finds it relaxing when you do it. And as we well know, this boy is not very relaxed, so in times of stress he likes that gesture.

4. Lip kiss: It's the classic one, u know? He can't just not love it. Normally he is the one who decides to kiss you on the lips, he thinks it is simple but at the same time a way to show you his affection without having to get too cheesy. "Your lips taste good."

5. Hand kiss: Call me crazy, but I feel like when Katsuki uses his quirk more than he should, his hands get burns. So I think he likes that you love his hands so much and that you show them that little affection.

6. Top of head kiss: He likes your hair and you're surprised at how soft his is. So for both of you it is a very frequent gesture, usually while you are lying in bed he will give you one. HE LOVES YOU TO TOUCH HIS HAIR.

7. Air kiss: He thinks you look beautiful when you make that gesture, he will never tell you but he loves how your lips come together to pretend to be kissing and how your eyes seem to shine.

8. Bite kiss: Normally one of the two of them does it when they pretend to be upset, and he also does it when he wants to camouflage his blush face. They are just small bites, sometimes on the cheek, nose or hands, just a silly gesture.

9. Cheek kiss: He's not much for enjoying very cheesy affection, but he does like a kiss on the cheek from time to time, just so that spot knows your lips too.

10. Butterfly kiss: The filter made he meet it and nah, in his own words "what is this shit? we look like idiots".

Denki was probably the one with the idea, I mean this guy looks like someone who spends 15 hours on tiktok.

And probably since he's in a relationship with you, his fyp is full of things he wants to try (and probably post) so you should be open to his requests.

And his top was like this:

1. Lip kiss: This man will get together with Mineta, but just look at him, he is a sweetheart, I think Denki likes even the smallest details of affection and love, so when you give him a kiss on the lips for him it is like a moment of pure happiness. "Can you kiss me again? I'm just not sure where I should put this," he said just to get a little more.

2. Cheek kiss: Again, he loves the little details, the little displays of affection, so when you're just walking or talking and you decide to surprise him with a kiss on the cheek it makes a blush cover his face. So yes, a well-deserved 2nd place.

3. Spiderman kiss: "Just imagine baby, I'm lying on the couch, and you come up behind me and kiss me. IT WOULD BE SO SEXY!" He loves it when you grab his chin to lift his head back and join your lips with his.

4. French kiss: I have to explain?

5. Nose kiss: AAAAAAAAAA, he loves it, he does it every chance he can, he finds it so tender.

6. Earlobe kiss: He just can't. He squirm at the sensation a little, but he loves hearing you laugh at the feel of it. It's true that he loves soft and loving, but something spicier doesn't hurt, I mean, he hangs out with Mineta anyway.

7. Neck kiss: The same thing, he love it buuuuut, earlobe>>>>

8. Butterfly kiss: He finds the sensation nice, it tickles him and it makes him laugh to see you so close, he thinks it's a nice way to laugh like the fools that you are.

9. Forehead kiss: He likes it but still prefers the previous ones for the simple fact that the forehead is not such a sensitive area or an area where he can fully feel your lips. "If you want to kiss me, lower your face a little more, you know?"

10. Foot kiss: No words.

This man. If you ask him for something he will do it, it's that simple. If you hear him do this trend he will probably already be bringing a ring light, a top quality camera and a green screen, just in case you need that too.

But when it came time to rank the kisses it was like this:

1. Cheek kiss: Simple is more. With a kiss on Kiri's cheek she would smile like the happiest person in the world. To him that seems so cute, so loving, so soft.

2. Nose kiss: He really likes to do it, it is everyday that to greet you, thank you, say goodbye or simply at any given moment he rubs his nose against yours.

3. Top of the head kiss: He thinks it's cute because that's not habitual. Because of his hairstyle, kisses are normally on the forehead, but when his hair is wet or simply without tons of gelatin, receiving a kiss there is the most beautiful thing he can wish for at that moment.

4. Lips kiss: MAAAN, he loves it, he just loves a little peck before any activity.

5. Forehead kiss: Now yes, this is more common for the two of you and especially for him it is very nice.

6: Hand kiss: BRO, HE'S A GENTLEMAN. He obviously loves kissing your hand like a real man, he's perfect for that, and he also loves when you try to imitate him and give him a kiss on his hand.

7. Neck kiss: I mean, he likes it but you guys don't do it all the time. In fact, they leave that type of affection for more private moments, and in fact at the beginning of their relationship they were too shy to take the initiative in it, but when the time comes he likes it.

8. Air kiss: He thinks it's cute when you throw a kiss and he catches it, it always makes him smile.

9. Butterfly kiss: meh, it's cute but no that much.

10. Bite kiss: JUST A NO.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 1

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.

Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.

#

A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?

Fuck, he misses them.

#

After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.

The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.

Instead he just wishes he were.

Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helicopter goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.

Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?

Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.

As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.

It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.

Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—

Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.

“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”

You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.

He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.

Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.

A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”

“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.

“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.

“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.

“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”

“Alright.”

“Fuck off with yer alright.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.

“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

[thefrogman]

Froggie's Mailbox Adventures

I have been wanting to tell this story for a while now. This all happened right before my birthday and then I got sick for 4 weeks and didn't have the energy to talk about it.

So let us take a trip into the recent past to hear a tale of woe and triumph with a bunch of extra woe interspersed throughout.

It all began on the 4th of July.

Some neighborhood rascals ruined my old mailbox with a baseball bat.

They also destroyed my brand new mailbox sensor that lets me know when there is mail so I don't have to make multiple trips to check.

(Ring replaced it for free, so that was nice.)

Originally, I was going to hire someone to replace the mailbox. But I was not having much luck finding someone who could do that specific task. (I've been having trouble finding help in general due to living in a supposedly "dangerous" area.)

So I decided to try and install the mailbox myself. And I had no idea how much of an adventure that was going to be...

My first step was tearing off the old one to see how it was mounted.

I got some paper and a sharpie and noted where the holes were. And, of course, they didn't line up with the new mailbox.

Which is a really nice mailbox. I mean, it is solid. Check this bad boy out and please don't notice the dirty clothes lying on the floor in the background.

It is always so tempting to save a few bucks and get the cheaper thing, but I am so glad I splurged on this. It looks nice. It functions well. It has magnets. And I don't think it can be baseball-batted without some instant karmic retribution from Newton's third law.

My next step was to get a new mounting plate. And even though I try not to go to Home Depot because it is run by a bunch of conservative religious bigots... I went to Home Depot.

I was a little nervous about leaving the house at the time because I was still struggling with my heart issue (which I think is mostly resolved now). I was trying to be very careful about how much I exerted myself. I really didn't want to have an episode while I was out and about.

After searching for a while I discovered they had a mounting plate and a pressure-treated mounting board. I could do wood or metal. And they were located on completely opposite ends of the store because of course they were.

I had both items in my hand and I did that thing where you just keep staring at something hoping a useful thought will pop into your brain. I had no clue which one was better for my needs. There is surprisingly little information regarding mailbox installation on the internet. YouTube really let me down on this one. I was just kinda winging it and solving problems as I went along.

I stared for for a little while longer and no useful thoughts happened.

I was tired of staring so I just said, "Fuck it" and made an executive decision.

Then I almost passed out in Home Depot.

I spent too much time walking around that gigantic monstrosity of a store and my heart started beating super fast and my legs felt like jello and I started getting quite dizzy.

I was in rough shape.

So... I had a little lie-down next to a wall of tape measures.

I just stared up at them thinking about all of the things I could measure.

I could measure a dog.

Or a horsie.

Or a horsie the size of a dog.

Then I thought, "Ooh, that one has lasers! I NEED IT."

My brain was not functioning at 100% in that moment.

After about 10 minutes of thinking about lasers and things I could measure with lasers, my body seemed to reboot and I was able to get up. Thankfully no one saw me and thought there was a dead body in the aisle or something. But that was still embarrassing all the same.

Once my heart slowed down I was able to pay and make it out to the car. I headed home and saw one of the most unusual sunsets of my life. The sun was dim and a shade of orange I have never seen in nature. It was like, cheeto orange. Not only that, it was a perfect circle with a super crisp outline. It didn't look real.

I tried to get a picture of it but when I looked at the picture later, the camera didn't capture anything like what I saw.

This is the best approximation I can manage. But it still doesn't do it justice.

I was hoping I could get home in time to grab my real camera and capture this strange setting sun, but it dipped below the horizon just as I pulled into my driveway.

I then started problem solving how to get the new mailbox in place with the items I purchased. And I was on a deadline because I have no clue what happens when the mailperson arrives and they don't have a mailbox to put the mail in. Do they just throw it on the ground? Do they get to keep the mail? Are they going to use all of my grocery coupons?

And for some reason, my post office does not keep a consistent delivery schedule. I've been trying to figure out a pattern for weeks and they just seem to come "whenever" and that is about as close as I can pin it down. Which is why I got the mailbox sensor.

Due to my near fainting episode in Home Depot, I was in no shape to be handy, so I was trying to think of a temporary solution to put the new mailbox on without properly mounting it. At first I was going to just wrap it in packing tape a bunch of times. But then I noticed I had a bunch of string. And I decided that was a more interesting solution... for reasons? My brain was still not doing well. But when I tried to tie the new mailbox to the post with the string it failed miserably. And I realized the packing tape wouldn't work either. The mailbox did not sit flat on the post and it wiggled. However, because I tried the dumb string method, I discovered this wiggle issue and it actually helped me figure out how to mount it.

I gave up for the night and decided to hope I could install the box in the morning before "whenever" happened. The next morning I started drawing dots on boards and comparing my old holes to my new holes and measuring clearances. (Measuring without lasers like a chump.) I needed to elevate the mailbox in order to mount it and that's when I thought to combine the board and the plate. I could screw the board into the old holes and then create new holes in the board for the plate to attach. And the plate lined up with the holes in the bottom of the new mailbox.

EASY!

It was a pretty big brain moment for me and I felt like I just solved quantum physics or something.

You're probably pretty confused because you are not as smart as I am.

Here is a diagram to help.

The board mounts to the post arm. The plate screws into the board. The mailbox screws into the plate.

Or just use string.

Also, how fortunate was it that I stared for all that time and got frustrated and just bought both things?

My next problem was that my drill wouldn't fit inside the mailbox and I couldn't screw the screws in place. So I drilled pilot holes in the board so I could manually screw in the screws with a ratcheting right angle screwdriver.

And the only reason I had one of those is because I use it as a fidget toy. (I like the clicky sounds.)

Another lucky happenstance!

I tried to prepare as much as I could in my garage before dragging all of my tools to the end of my lengthy driveway. I brought along my dad's old rolling walker so I'd have something to transport everything.

But also so I'd have something to sit on while I was installing the new box. Then I wouldn't have another heart episode and need another lie-down.

Seriously, how big is my brain?

I am like the smartest person alive.

So I got to the end of the driveway with all of my tools and my board and my plate and my templates and I realized something was missing.

The new mailbox.

I am like the dumbest person alive.

After a quick back-and-forth to retrieve the mailbox, I got started on my master mounting plan.

I screwed the board onto the post arm.

Then I screwed the plate into the board.

Then I lined up the new mailbox onto the plate.

But as I was doing this, I was kinda sticking out into the street a little bit. And usually that isn't a big deal. Cars can see me from very far away and they were just steering around me. But then two cars came from opposite directions at the same time and I was in a precarious position where I could not move. One car steered wide to avoid me, and for some reason, the other car decided not to slow down but to drive off the edge of the street.

And as they pulled this maneuver I heard a loud thump, followed by a loud pop, and then the sound of hissing getting farther and farther away.

Like a snake version of the Doppler effect.

They drove directly into this and popped their tire.

On the one hand, I felt a little responsible and guilty. On the other, it is not my responsibility to fix the street. And on a third hand, that was silly driving behavior and perhaps they will see this as a learning moment.

After processing what just happened I got back to the task at hand. To my delight and surprise, all of my planning and problem-solving was working. Everything fit together perfectly. The right angle ratcheting screwdriver was screwing in the screws. And after I tightened the final one...

I had successfully installed a new mailbox, on my own, without any jankiness or tape or string.

Like, I did this legit proper.

Tons of pure endorphins rushed into wherever endorphins go. (Again, I am very smart.) That feeling of accomplishment was pure ecstasy. I had no idea how to do this and in less than 24 hours I was basically an expert mailbox installer. I took some shots of my work on my phone so I could brag to Katrina, packed up all of my tools, and began to walk back to the house.

And... my heart started beating fast again.

And... I needed to have another little lie-down in the grass next to my driveway.

I stared up at the sky and was frustrated and proud simultaneously. A weird mixture of emotions. At the time I didn't know if my heart could be fixed. But thankfully I had my sense of accomplishment to temper my heart sadness.

And then I thought, "I should get a new address sign."

Epilogue time!

I got on Amazon and started looking up new signs. And I found one that was solar powered and lit up at night. So clearly I needed to have that one. My midnight food delivery people will never struggle to find my house again!

And it actually looked pretty neat.

(My address is not actually four 0s, but you are free to try sending me something.)

The sign was very easy to read... if you were super duper close.

But if you were farther away...

You couldn't actually distinguish the numbers. And it kinda looked weird next to the mailbox. And headlights made the numbers even harder to see. Which was the opposite of what I was going for.

So I opted to get a more traditional sign.

(Please send items to the realm of nothingness. I am in the void.)

But this bugged me because the sign was a different size than the old sign and the connection points didn't line up perfectly.

I HAD A CATAWAMPUS CHAIN!

WHICH IS THE MOST UNACCEPTABLE KIND OF WAMPUS!

It was at this point that Katrina started making fun of my perfectionism.

But this wasn't perfectionism for perfection's sake.

My Dad was having trouble fixing things around the house. And some other kids knocked over the previous, previous mailbox. And he found the strength to go to the store, get a new one, and install it all by himself. He was at the end of the driveway, attached to his portable oxygen canisters, and fixing one last thing for this house.

And I guess I just wanted to get it back to perfect. Because he never did any handyman task half-assed. He was a full-ass handyman. Always.

So... I fixed the sign.

Perfectly balanced.

Again, feel free to send me stuff to 0000 Road.

I'm sure it will get here... "whenever."

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 3: Missing Moments

a little something for @bucktommypositivityweek 💜 tommy POV after their first date + buck calling about meeting for coffee

**

Tommy's not moping. He doesn't mope. Especially not over a relationship that wasn't even a relationship yet. It was one date. Arguably less. Half a date with a guy he's hung out with—if he's counting very generously—a grand total of four times.

A blip, as far as relationships go. He has more history with that guy he used to trade semi-frequent blowjobs with who's saved in his phone as Nose Ring.

...Come to think of it, he should delete that guy's number. They haven't spoken in years. He's pretty sure the last text in their message history is—yup. Dick pic. From Nose Ring. They'd gone six months without contact, then he sent a picture of his penis and nothing else. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to be even vaguely interested, and there's been no communication since.

And that's really that's the problem, isn't it. His dating history is riddled with guys like that. Dead-end hookups and bad dates with people he didn't click with no matter how much he tried to force it. And people who just...didn't care enough. Then Evan...

Alright, he's moping a little bit. He's only human.

He's been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Pretty much since he got home. It's not late enough that he's tired, really, but he's also exhausted. In a soul-deep sort of way.

It was nice. He had a nice time, sitting across from Evan, letting him stutter his way through all the usual first date talking points like he was reading them off a list in his head. It was cute, how seriously he took it, how he'd pause and smile and get that soft look in his eye when he was listening to Tommy talk.

It would have been so easy to be greedy and keep spending time basking in that warmth he seems to radiate. Evan was clearly willing to push himself way past his comfort zone, but. Tommy wasn't. Isn't. His stomach twists just thinking about it.

But maybe he's being selfish either way. He wants more than Evan can give him, so he's pulling away completely, retreating before he can get too deep into planning a future Evan isn't ready for.

He sighs, feeling around next to his pillow until his fingers close around his phone.

Maybe Evan will reach out again. Some day. Eventually. Once he's more at ease with himself. Or maybe Tommy already ruined what could have been before it even started. Probably safer to just assume the latter. Restrict himself to hoping they can still be friends after this.

He scrolls aimlessly through his contacts. There's quite a few numbers in there that he should delete. Names he's not sure he recognizes anymore. Ones he wishes he could forget.

For some godforsaken reason he still has Sam Westbrook in here. Just reading the name puts a pit in his stomach. He doesn't remember everything about the three horrible months they spent together, it's mostly just flashes. The taste of too much beer on his tongue, saturated and clumsy in his mouth. A sharp smile and a sharper suit, always pressed and starched and better-than-you.

Tommy was newly out and far too hard on himself about how difficult it was. Guys like Sam seemed to sniff that out, made his personal shame all about them. It didn't always work, but Sam was particularly good at it. He always left Tommy feeling gutted and guilty and far too willing to do whatever it took to make it up to him the next time they saw each other. It's not a relationship he likes to think about.

But it's a reminder that he did the right thing tonight.

And...

Maybe he'll call Evan. Not yet, not right away. Tommy needs time to square away his own messy feelings, but maybe in a couple weeks. Just to let Even know he's. Around. If he needs someone to talk to about all this.

They can be friends. He'll make it work.

He deletes Sam's number, and tosses his phone aside.

Two weeks.

—

It's only two days later when his phone rings, Evan Buckley written across his screen in big white letters. He stares at it through five long buzzes while his heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This...wasn't the plan. And to make matters worse, he's at work. He catches one of his coworkers side-eyeing him curiously, and that pretty much guarantees he'll have at least three people ask him what was up with the phone call before his shift it over.

Well. He should at least give them something to gossip about. A guy called me and I watched it go to voicemail isn't much of a story.

He swipes to answer, before he can make himself any more nervous.

"Hey."

"Tommy! Hey!" Evan's voice crackles a little through the phone with a surprised intake of breath, like he wasn't the one who called in the first place. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches. "H-how's it going?"

Tommy spent four hours yesterday taking apart his neighbours' lawn mower because he'd convinced the man it was making a weird noise and he could fix it. There was nothing wrong with it, but he checked every inch anyways, and put it back together well-oiled and exactly as pristine as it was before. That morning he'd gone grocery shopping with a paper list and his phone at home so he'd stop obsessively combing through all his files trying to find things to delete.

So, he's having a very normal week, clearly.

"Good," he says instead of explaining any of that. "I'm actually at work right now, so—"

"Oh crap, I forgot you were working today, sorry. I—I can call back later if you're busy."

"No, it's okay. Slow day so far." He pauses. "One might even say qui—"

"Ah, don't jinx it!"

Tommy snickers. Apparently Eddie wasn't exaggerating. He's known a lot of superstitious people, but most of them didn't take it this seriously. Evan sounded less panicked about flying directly into an actual hurricane. "Right, the dreaded Q-Word."

"Did you hear about the power lines that fell on our engine?!"

"Yes." He'd seen the pictures too. Pretty much everyone had, the 133 were sending them around all day after they took that call.

"And then some guy stole it later that same day, y'know. It was a terrible shift."

He'd heard about that too, but not that it was the same station. Damn. "Alright, alright. No tempting fate."

"Well. Good. Too many things can go wrong with helicopters."

Tommy squints up at the rafters, feeling unbearably fond. Like he's full of something warm and syrupy and too big for his chest, like he's spilling sunlight between his ribs.

He should ask why Evan called. Polite check-in after their date ended so abruptly? Another storm he needs Tommy to fly into? Metaphorical or otherwise. Hopefully it won't involve stealing anything else. They got way too lucky the first time for Tommy to trust it working out again, and he kind of likes his job.

He slips his free hand into his pocket. "How are you doing, Evan?"

"Oh." He lets out a soft exhale that comes through as quiet static. "I, uh. Good, actually. B-better, um. Listen, are you free tomorrow?"

Tommy stops breathing, lungs seizing for a long moment before he very carefully reminds himself how to use them. "Yes."

"I wanted to. Talk. To you. Um. In person, preferably."

This really wasn't the plan.

But it's fine. It's more than fine. It's...

He'll just have to deal with wanting to kiss the living daylights out of someone who's off-limits, it's not like he's never had to do that before. If Evan needs something from him he's not about to say no, he just didn't expect it to happen so soon, if it happened at all.

"I, uh, would've just popped by your house unannounced, but I thought this might be more polite," he continues, a teasing lilt in his voice. Tommy purses his lips against the smile threatening to overtake his face. "Also, I don't know where you live."

"You could've asked Eddie."

"Oh, so you're saying I should have ambushed you then?"

"No, that's very rude. Who does that."

Evan's delighted laugh is bright and infectious, and has him grinning at his feet, sunlight spreading down to the tips of his fingers.

"So, coffee? Tomorrow?"

"Alright."

"Cool. Awesome. I'll text you the details?"

"Cool," he echoes, purposefully deadpan. "Awesome."

He can hear the smile in Evan's voice when he pretends to be offended by the mocking. It's there all through their goodbye too, and Tommy finds himself coiled up around his anticipation at the thought of seeing that smile again.

It's going to be a long 18 hours. But it's worth the wait.

[minnophee-writes]

His Judgement

A/N: Been in such a Dead by Daylight fixation that I don't think it can be stopped. Pyramid Daddy can smash, I don't care - don't @ me. It was a great crime that BHVR took his ass away from us! Also, I wrote this fic while listening to 'Insanely Illegal Cage Fight' by Dal Av + Jackson Rose. For some reason it gave Pyramid Head vibes. This isn't beta read so any grammar and/or spelling mistakes are my own.

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Pairings: Pyramid Head x Female Reader

Fic Warnings: Character death, blood, violence, betrayal, slight angst, blade / knife, death, dub-con touching, dub-con, smaller female / taller man, size difference, hair-pulling (brief), dark smut, injuries, mating press, long tongue action / tongue fucking (brief) / tongue deepthroating, claiming, breeding, squirting (brief), creampie, (🔞MDNI this fic is for ADULTS! Begone minors🔞)

Summary: When things go from bad to worse during a trial against the Executioner, Reader finds herself standing face-to-face with the large killer himself, ready to accept whatever judgement he deems fit to bestow upon her. However the situation doesn't seem to go as she suspected.

Word Count: 4,311 words

Taglist: @stygianoir

You grabbed onto the hips of Feng and dragged her off the hook, her groans of pain audiable but she tried to quieten them as you herded her behind a large rock to mend her wound. Blood oozed from the gaping hole in her right shoulder but you worked quickly to bandage the injure to slow, and hopefully, stop the blood. Feng nodded to you in thanks before you guided her toward the generator that you were working on before going to her aid.

The realm the entity chose for this trial just so happened to be the Midwich Elementary School, the home of one of the most terrifying killers in the entity's realm. It didn't help that the entity wanted to rub salt in the wound and have the killer actually be the Executioner, he was known to be ruthless during trials, showing no mercy, and defying the entity's rules by outright slaughtering people in these sick, twisted matches. Feng was able to run the large man but he managed to outplay her, ensnaring her within his trail of barbed wire - also known as his 'Trail of Torment'. You had taken shelter in a locker nearby when the Executioner placed her on the hook.

Rushing footsteps startled you and Feng, the sudden appearance of Yun-Jin Lee panting and breathing heavily should have been the first sign to let you know of the oncoming danger yet you and Feng continued working on the generator, now with the help of an anxious Yun-Jin Lee. Everything was quiet for a moment, the only sounds were the generator pistons powering up when you noticed Yun-Jin Lee glancing behind Feng for a few seconds before pushing Feng and running off in the posite direction. You stared after the suspicious woman in confusion and agitation when the sound of Feng's scream caught your attention. The looming figure of the hulking Executioner had pierced his heavy weapon into Feng's torso, the tip of the knife sunk deep in her stomach while her arms scrambled for purchase, rapid gasps left her lips and her eyes were wide in absolute fear.

Time seemed to operate in slow motion, your brain now just processing that Yun-Jin Lee sacraficed Feng to the killer to save herself and fled, leaving you to fend for yourself once he was done punishing Feng. Your heart lurched in sorrow and disappointment, more so disappointed in yourself for not having seen the large killer coming toward them, maybe you could've saved the poor woman - if only Yun-Jin Lee hadn't just selfishly pushed Feng toward her death.

Feng turned her head toward you as her arms weakened in strength, her eyes pleading for something that was not an option, something you couldn't give her. The Executioner yanked his knife from her body before driving it back in, a dark puddle of blood and barbed wires appeared around Feng and devoured her into the ground, taking her and leaving no evidence that she was ever there. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing someone you viewed as a close friend, due to being in many trials together and forming a bond, hurt you deep down and caused tears to slightly blur your vision. The scraping of metal on metal brought you back to the present and you're terrified eyes stared at the large killer a few feet from you, his triangular helmet looking in your direction - his helmet tilting slightly to the side as he seemed to glare you down.

In a sudden rush of adrenaline your body shot into action, you quickly spun around on your heels and sprinted in the last place you saw Yun-Jin Lee and prayed for the best. Your legs carrying you down a flight of stairs and turning down a long corridor, your lungs struggling to intake oxygen and vision slightly unfocusing from how hard you were pushing your body to work in running away from danger. By the time you had reached the end of the corridor you pressed your back against the steel wall and attempted to collect yourself. You didn't hear any heavy footsteps coming after you, and a timid glance down the direction you had just come from proved that the Executioner wasn't pursuing you. You seemed to be in the clear.

A breath of relief escaped your lips before a faint whistle caught your attention, your head turned to the right to see David waving you over into a classroom he was holed up in. You rushed over to him, glad to see a friendly, familiar face, and agreed to help him on his generator. You were tempted to tell David about what Yun-Jin Lee did to Feng, how she willingly sacraficed a teammate - a friend, to the killer and left you for dead just to save her own skin, but you thought against it. Your main concern and goal was to repair the generators so you could get the hell out. The elementary school chilled you to the bone, the disarray of everything in the school and classrooms - they they all left in a rush, almost as if they were quickly evacuated unerved you to no end. So your main motivation on completing your generator tasks were because some of the realms absolutely creeped you out. As the third piston started to pick up speed the woman that had caused you grief appeared in the doorway, making her way arogantly to the other side of the generator, acting as if she hadn't just betrayed a teammate.

An occasional spark would fly as the three of you worked on the gen, the progress slow but surely going, David giving quick glances at the only doorway in and out of the classroom. Your nerves were on alert for any sign of the Executioner, waiting for his sudden arrival and hoping to be able to distract the killer long enough for David to get out of dodge. Any creak or groan from the steel structure had your head turning behind you and toward the door in search for the large man but was greeted with nothing which only calmed your racing heart slightly. Your eyes took note of the vault window on the other side of the classroom which led into the other, a good escape route in case the killer were to appear and block the doorway. David must have seen you looking at it and gave you a subtle nod, acknowledging your find and piecing together two wires which completed the generator, the engine running smoothly now and the three of you made a slow approach to the window vault in the classroom. You were first in the line, then David, leaving Yun-Jin Lee to carry the back but as you neared the vault the loud, piercing sound of metal scraping across metal brought their attention to the classroom doorway.

The bloodied image of the Executioner almost seemed to freeze the trio, his shadow loomed and seemed to swallow the entire room before he then took thundering steps toward you. Yun-Jin Lee rushed passed you and David, shoving the both of you toward the killer while she vaulted the crumbled opening. David lost his footing and was tumbling right into the path of the Executioner when you quickly reacted, grabbing onto David's wide forearm and pulling him back, adrenaline giving you the strength to drag David over to the vault as the killer closed the distance between you.

"Go, David! Run!" You shouted before turning around to face the large man.

His knife was embedded in the ground leaving a trail of torment, cutting off one of the paths to getting out of the classroom. You didn't want to lead the killer in the direction of David so you chose to try and run around the Executioner's left side - the one unaffected by his torment. Just when he was within arms reach you bolted to his left and rushed passed, jumping over a small section of the unforgiving trail and making a mad dash down the hallway, the killer's heavy footsteps storming after you.

He was a man on a mission, only having eyes for you, and you were hoping he would lose track of you soon because your stamina was rapidly draining, but he seemed to always know where you were going. You've run through the bottom floor before attempting to lose chase upstairs, quickly turning corners before dipping into a random classroom and ducked behind an overturned table while you took the time to catch your breath. David slowly exited one of the many lockers that were lined against the wall and rushed over to you, a relieved expression painted on his face.

"Thank God you're okay! You're not hurt, right?" He then looked over your figure for any injuries.

"I'm fine, lets just focus on getting that last gen done." You got up and started to dust yourself off before looking David in the eyes with concern yet certainty after your second run-in with the untrustworthy woman, "Don't trust Yun-Jin Lee... She's the reason Feng is dead..."

"...Shit."

David looked shocked and opened his mouth to say something but the approaching march of the Executioner caused you two to run back over to the lockers and hide next to each other, hoping the beast of a man would just keep walking but those hopes were dashed away when his large figure stepped into the room. His helmet slowly scanned across the room in search for you, his eyeless gaze fell upon the lockers that you and David were hiding in, your breath hitched in anticipation. His steady stride carried him across the spacious room, your muscles growing more tense the closer he got to your lockers, when you noticed a little too late that the Executioner was looking at a different locker - the wrong locker.

The Executioner's thick arm shot out from beside his lent body and grasped the locker door and ripped it off its hinges, David's surprised shout ringing throughout the room as the larger man pulled him out of the locker, and placing him onto his wide shoulder. You bursted out of your locker and clung onto the killer's arm that seemed to put him off balance and dropping David. You grabbed David's hand and began to run away, a very angry killer hot on your heels. One of the hallways had a pallet in the middle that you knew you could use to block the Executioner and gain some distance so you made sure to head toward it, your feet carrying you faster while David kept pace and followed your every move. When the pallet was in sight a few feet away a smile started to grace your face for the first time that trial, but that all came crashing down when you noticed Yun-Jin Lee standing on the other side of the pallet, staring you dead in the face before tossing the pallet down and bolting around the corridor. Your feet stuttered for a split second before you decided that one of you were gonna have to vault the pallet first. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Executioner was a lot closer than you thought and was reeling his arm back to strike at David and your brain went into a panic.

"David, watch out!" You screamed as you pushed him ahead of you, the edge of the knife sliced into the outside of your bicep.

The flaming sting of the injury caused you to let out a squeal as you held onto your arm and made a run for the pallet, David waving encouragingly to you on the other side. Your staggered gait didn't get you far when a strong hand gripped a decent amount of your hair and pulled you back, dragging you into a warm, soild body, ripping another screamed from your lips. You heard David shout your name from where he stood before rushing back over the pallet to get to you.

"No! Let her go!" David readied up to throw a punch but the Executioner just thrust his knife upward.

The blade kissed David's skin, cutting through his button-up and exposed his chest which now displayed a deep, flowing wound from where the blade cut him. David winced and clutched his chest, a groan left his mouth as he looked back toward you. You were terrified, uncertain if anyone was going to survive, and it didn't help that the merciless killer had you in his hold and was readying up to strike David again - this time a killing blow. In a desperate attempt to save at least one of your friends this trial you decided to try begging and bargining. Right as the Executioner drew his arm back to deliever a deadily strike you clung onto the arm holding your body to his and began pleading.

"Wait, no, please!" You cried while squeezing your eyes shut, "I-I'll do anything, please... You can k-kill me right now if you want but spare him!"

You were rambling but you were hoping that the killer would at least pause long enough for David to make an escape. The Executioner slowly glared down at you through his large helmet, his head tilted in feigned thought before suddening swinging his arm overhead and implanted his knife into David's neck, blood spurted out everywhere, and his eyes bulged out while his gasps were wet and thick. Whimpers and whines left you as you watched the light fade from his eyes, his body steadily sinking to the floor before it slumped down and hit the floor with a thud. Before you could process anything you were then thrown against one of the steel walls and lifted a few feet of the ground by your throat, a large hand encased it and made it a struggle for you to take deep breaths. He stared you down while he watched you struggle to get out of his grip, his suffocating presence suddenly making you have flashes of some of the children drawings scattered around the school - some of the drawings depicted said killer in front of her, a name scribbled on top that made sense for a child; Pyramid Head. 'Seemed fitting for him', you thought brieftly.

Pyramid Head jabbed the knife into the floor next to you both before using his other hand to grope your body, using it to spread your leg to insert his hip between them and opening your legs wider. The position caused you to have to wrap your legs around his waist to try and lessen the pressure on your neck but he just placed his hand on your ass and held tight, hitching you up higher and pressed you between the wall and his solid body. A deep rumble spread from within his chest and a slick, slimy appendage timidly appeared from under the pulsing puss under the helmet before it confidently started to lick your face, covering your face in thick saliva. The tip slid across your lips a few times before forcing its way passed them, exploring your mouth and worming itself down your throat.

You let out a squeal in rejection but that didn't seem to do anything to the Executioner as he continued to thrust his tongue down your neck, sliding it back and forth, as if it got pleasure from it. His hips humped into your crotch which shot small waves of pleasure up your spine, strained moans escaped your lips while you tried to find where to place your hand before settling with clutching onto the arm that's holding you by the neck. He let go of your ass to ruck up his filthy apron to expose his pulsing cock, the tip red and leaking with pre-cum. You choked on his tongue in horror, trying to angle your hips away from him but he took that as some sort of invitation to shred your pants from your legs, your underwear disappearing with it while he rubbed his thumb against your folds in an attempt to get you wet and wanting. He retracted his tongue from your throat to then go down to your pussy, smearing his saliva over your vulva and clit, teasing your hole by probing it in exploration before plunging in deep.

You yipped from the wet intrusion of his tongue, you could feel it wriggling around inside - pushing against your spongy walls until it found your g-spot, your body eliciting a full-body spasm. Your mouth opened and closed from the onslaught of pleasure his tongue was giving you once he discovered your hidden spot deep within you, not even your toys could find it half the time and yet this large, brutal killer found it within seconds. It left you stunned more than anything else, your brain going fuzzy and all logical thought disappeared. His thumb pressed into your clit again which made you clench your pussy around his tongue, a moan left your throat at the pleasure flowing through your in waves, your body warming up from the growing arousal.

Your head flopped to the side as you let out a sigh, your eyes fluttered opened and your vision was then filled with David's cold corpse lying on the floor, his glazed eyes staring in your direction and your stomach squeezed - threatening to make you throw up any sustenence inside. You shut your eyes tightly before righting your head straight, a cool chill creeped up your spine at the mental image of your dead friend only a few inches away. Once you opened your eyes again you stared up at the helmet, hoping you were looking where his eyes may roughly be.

"Pyramind Head, please-" You managed to rasp out, "- I-I wanted you to spare him... why?"

Tears fell from your eyes and down your cheeks as you continued to look at him but you got no response, the only response you got was a deep, rumbling growl and his tongue thrusting in and out of you faster, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit rapidly as well. Your breath hitched and a loud, prolonged whine echoed around you both, your walls spasming before hot, white ecstasy burst through you - the tight knot that had quickly formed in your lower stomach suddenly snapped that caused you to drench Pyramid Head's lower sternum and tongue. A foamy, white ring surrounded the base of his appendage and smeared itself across it with each thrust, it drove him feral and the pulse in his cock couldn't be ignored anymore.

Pyramid Head thrusted his cock against your wet cunt, soaking his dick in your juices before attempting to align the tip with your twitching hole and as he steadily pushed in it stretched you in an impossibly delicious way. The moan you let out rang down the corridor but your attention wasn't on how loud you were being, your thoughts were on how big the Executioner was and how he may have ruined any other man for you and he wasn't even halfway in yet. He thrusted in a few more inches before the base of his cock was snug against your pelvis, his hips grinded on your swollen clit, your cunt clung to him from the stimulation. After giving you a brief moment to get adjusted to his cock he began to back his shaft from you before driving it back in with a deep, powerful thrust, punching noises and air from you. Each strong thrust loosened your legs from his waist and he decided to wrap his thick arms under them, he brought them up so that your ankles rested on his shoulders and the angle made it feel as though he was fucking into you deeper than before. Your nails dug into his biceps as he drilled into you, the wet sound of skin slapping skin and your meek moans were the only sounds that could be heard, his tongue hovered over your clit as a large glob of spit splattered onto it - his hips smeared and grinded it into your clit and your toes curled.

A silent scream left your lips as your pussy splashed the Executioner in your juices, your back arched sharply as the walls of your cunt throbbed intensely as it milked his cock. A rumbling groan vibrated inside his chest and his hips stuttered for a few thrusts before burying it deep within you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and thick, heavy ropes of cum coated your walls. His cock pulsed with each shot of cum and he gave a few small thrusts to fuck some of it into your cervix, laying claim over you by hoping to breed your fertile womb.

You let out a drawn out whine as you felt his cock slowly withdraw from your abused pussy, your gaping hole twitched as it tried to suck in the cum that slowly dripped out of it. Pyramid Head carefully set you onto the ground as he readjusted his apron, his hand grasped his weapon's handle before yanking his knife out of the floor. You lazily stared at the looming figure accepting your fate, knowing it was only going to last for so long before he killed you in painful ways only he can imagine. Your eyes closed as you waited for the final blow, hoping that he would be nice for once and show mercy with giving you a swift death yet none of that happened. You opened an eye to see what he was up to prior to opening your other eye to glance up at his still form.

A horrified gasp came from your left and you turned your head to see Yun-Jin Lee peeking around the corner, her hands covered her wide mouth and her eyes were almost popping out of her head, a disgusted and petrified looked was etched onto her features. Her eyes bore into your tired figure on the ground, too drained to even properly cover your exposed bottom when, faster than you had ever seen him move, Pyramid Head clutched a fist into the other woman's hair and threw her across the air, her body colided with the hard with a hard smack. Yun-Jin Lee yelped in distress and attempted to crawl away from him but he drove his knife into her calf, the blade sliced and shredded through her muscle and bone, and she let out a piercing scream that had you flinching away.

Yun-Jin Lee stared up at the Executioner with pleading eyes but they wouldn't reach him for he has already decided her fate. Lifting his blade high in the air he brought it down with fierce strength, swinging his weapon multiple times and created many deep, slash wounds - each one becoming more violent than the last. Pyramid Head slammed his blade across the forearm of Yun-Jin Lee, her right arm became detattched and slumped to the floor, while his foot crushed her mid-spine between him and the ground. Yun-Jin Lee was getting desperate and frantically thrashed around hoping to wiggle her way from under the intense judgement of the Executioner yet it was useless, he only put more of his heavy weight onto her spine and a cry of pain was torn from her. With two hands he raised his knife and, with the swiftest movement you've ever seen, he drove the blade into her back - a loud crack pierced through the air and a wet squelching could be heard when the knife sliced through Yun-Jin Lee.

The last of her breath escaped her dry lips before her body fell limp, her still figure stayed face down as Pyramid Head removes his weapon, from the now dead corpse, and turned his helmet toward you once again. A small feeling of dread shot through you for a split second but your brain was still foggy from the rough fucking he had given you just moments ago, and your limbs felt like they were made of lead - anytime you tried to move your arms or legs you were met with no response from your muscles. You watched as the Executioner walked over to your slumped body, examining your for a minute or two before he leant forward and wrapped an arm around you, lifting you from the ground and over his broad shoulder.

Pyramid Head started a steady gait toward one end of the corridor, his destination unknown, yet you weren't afraid of being hooked and being sacrificed to the Entity. He walked passed many hooks on his journey, your mind growing more and more confused while you watched one of the hooks fade around a corner as Pyramid Head continued on, his steps only speeding up once the howling, whimsical noise of the hatch could be heard. Pyramid Head turned quickly into a classroom, the hatch a few feet away from you both when he gently set you on your feet, his hand clutching onto your hips to steading you - and to grope you one last time. You warily glanced between the hatch and the Executioner, as if waiting for him to then crush your hopes of escape by beating you to the hatch and closing it, but he just stood there.

The Executioner subtly nodded over to the hatch, giving you a slight nudge toward it and you timidly made you way over to it. You looked back at Pyramid Head one last time and muttered a hushed thank you before disappearing into the hatch, the opening then slammed close and a black, smokey abyss surrounded the Executioner, teleporting him back into the killers realm. Somewhere in the back of his mind a faint voice promised him that within due time you'd be his, that you would become his pet and that was going to be his reward for being such a loyal being.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this fic! Make sure to like and reblog this to let me know that you want more <3 Had heaps of fun writing this and hope to write another banger soon 😎

[quasi-normalcy]

Every "Nu Trek" (2017- ) Series Ranked from Worst to Best:

Very Short Treks (2023): There's really no words for just how terrible this series is. I mean, I know that it only barely counts because it's explicitly not canon and has a total combined run time of about 15 minutes, but *my god* is it bad! Only one of its episodes is remotely funny, and even that manages to feel like it's driven its main joke into the ground by the end of its 2-minute runtime. The only thing that I can say for it is that is that it gives me an easy, uncontroversial choice for worst Star Trek series, not only of the last 7 years, but of all time.

Picard (2020-2023): Listen; I know that this series is unpopular with the Tumblr Trek fandom, but it actually breaks my heart to have to put it so low on the list. It has, in my own opinion, the best dramatic acting of any Trek series and among the best directing, and almost every individual scene, in isolation, is compellingly watchable. More than that, it has fascinating worldbuilding choices, you can really *see* the passion of the writers for what they're creating (at least in the first and third seasons), and Agnes in particular is among my favourite characters in anything ever. It's got a lot of great moments, too! Picard and Seven bonding over shared Borg trauma; Soji uncovering the truth of her identity; Jurati hacking the Borg Queen's brain; Picard's final farewell to Q; Shaw's Wolf 359 monologue; Geordi's reunion with Data...I could go on. And yet, it just feels like so much *less* than the sum of its parts! Incredible ideas are introduced and then just shrugged off to pursue much more boring ones. Story arcs feel pointless if not actively offensive. Absolutely baffling writing choices are made throughout, with no indication as to why. And the nostalgia baiting , particularly in the final season, becomes so intense that it just chokes the plot to death. One comes away haunted by the feeling that this series should be so much better than it is.

Discovery (2017-2024): Really, this is two separate series: a twisty, grimdark, sci-fi war drama and a gentle queer coffeeshop AU about scientists who talk about their feelings. Both of them have their moments, but they each fall down in the same way: a focus on epic, high-stakes mystery box storytelling that undermines one's ability to really get invested in the characters, or even know who they are when they aren't off saving the universe. Without that, while I liked many of the characters and loved seeing them science the shit out of things using teamwork and the power of math, it's kind of difficult to get invested in this series one way or another. In spite of its absolutely gorgeous visuals, it comes off feeling weirdly...flat.

Short Treks (2018-2020): Not a lot to talk about here; just kind of an anthology series of short films adjacent to Discovery, Picard, and Strange New Worlds. Mostly they're varying shades of mediocre, but a few of them are as brilliant as any episode of Star Trek ever made, so the series gets to be relatively high on the list.

Strange New Worlds (2022- ): This is the first entry on this list that, in my opinion, belongs on the top shelf with some of the best of the older series. And it achieves it basically by adopting the same formula as the original series or the next generation--socially conscious planet-of-the-week adventures with enough wit, cleverness and joie-de-vivre to keep it interesting. I remember in 2017, there was plenty of discussion of how it's possible to update Star Trek's formula for prestige television; how funny that the solution turned out to be "don't change it at all, just give it modern special effects and actual character arcs." That said, the series is a bit *too* beholden to the original, with focus primarily on a bunch of characters who aren't allowed to grow or change too much because we already know how they'll turn out. It would be even better if it were about a new ship and a new crew full of nobodies who we can come to love. Which brings us to...

Lower Decks (2020-2024): Above, I said that Picard felt like it should have been so much better than it was. Lower Decks, frankly, should have been so much worse. How is an adult animated sitcom with Rick and Morty style animation and constant memberberries this freaking good!?! Every episode is a master class in efficient storytelling, with 22 minute runtimes often feeling like they contain as much story and character work as episodes twice as long. And the characters are incredible--like TOS and TNG, they feel almost archetypal, and even though you've never seen them before, they slide so seamlessly into the Star Trek universe that it's hard to believe that they weren't just *always* there; that there was ever a time when you could imagine the Star Trek universe without just intrinsically knowing that Tendi and Shaxs and Mariner were off somewhere in the background. It's greatest success though, the reason why it's comedy works when it really shouldn't, is that it's only *slightly* sillier than the serious series. What we end up with a fantastic series with an ethos that is pure Star Trek, and in fact, if I had written this list a month ago, it would certainly be in the #1 spot. However...

Prodigy (2021-2024?): The first season of Prodigy is...charming. It's got some fun characters, some spectacular visuals, some interesting premises. And if the plots tend to be a little too simplistic to be engaging to an adult, hey, it's a kids' show. It's good. Solid. Above average. And if I had only the first season to go on, it would probably be in third position on this list. But then, a few weeks ago, it went ahead and dropped the best season of Star Trek in a quarter-century, and I really...I just cannot recommend this series highly enough. The sheer, ambitious scope of the narrative; the arcs it puts its character through; the cleverness of the writing; the fricking GORGEOUSNESS of it! And it does all this while redeeming deeply unpopular characters and plot points from other series, in a way that never feels forced or pandering. Not only is it the best Star Trek series of the 21st century, it's one of the best children's animated series since AtLA. Go. Go! Watch it! Watch it now!

[projectionistwrites]

Literally would read any moon knight smut from you 🥵 can I request something with the boys having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it is most in Marc’s character but tbh I’m not particular heh

sorry this took so long hehe i hope you like it <3

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

Marc Spector x afab!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x reader) (2.2k)

Marc Spector didn’t fancy himself a jealous man—but you knew exactly how to push his buttons.

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ mdni) WARNINGS: arguing, jealousy, SMUT (oral (f! and m! receiving), degradation, a bit of choking, facefucking, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, mean!dom!marc)

It was an accident, really—you hadn’t meant for it to slip out. And yet, there wasn’t a single part of you that felt bad about it.

Marc had already been in a bad mood when he’d woken up that morning, sulking and brooding and generally unpleasant to be around. When you’d asked him what was wrong, he’d brushed you off, insisting he was just tired and had a headache. You knew better than to believe him.

Truthfully, you had a suspicion that Marc had been feeling neglected. After he’d introduced you to Steven several weeks ago, the two of you had been inseparable—you and Marc had been dating for a year and half, so getting to know Steven was like the honeymoon phase all over again. He was sweet, and gentle, and shy, and many other things that Marc simply wasn’t. The contrast excited you, but you could tell that the puppy love between you and Steven had begun to take a toll on Marc.

When you’d gotten home from work today, you had planned on offering to cook a nice meal for you and Marc in an attempt to smooth things over and ease his worried mind, but he clearly was in no mood for reconciliation.

“Honey, I’m hooome.”

You sing-songed jokingly as you walked in the door, keys jingling in the lock. When you received no response, your joviality quickly dissipated and a deep frown etched itself into your face.

“Hello?”

You called again, brows furrowed in confusion. You took a few steps into the apartment, hanging your bag on the coatrack and slipping your shoes from your feet. Again, silence.

You went to turn the corner towards where the bedroom side of the studio apartment was, but quickly collided with a warm body as you rounded the bookshelf.

“Jesus fuck!”

You yelped as a hand came out to steady your shoulder, saving you from stumbling backwards on impact.

“You scared me....”

You hesitated, looking up at the man before you cautiously. The scrunch between his brows and hardness in his brown eyes quickly confirmed your suspicions.

“...Marc.”

Marc mistook your brief moment of pause as disappointment, and he sneered, releasing your arm with a small shove and sidestepping you.

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to disappoint.”

You blinked a few times in disbelief, frozen in place as his words took a moment to sink in. When they finally did, you were left reeling, whirling around to face his retreating figure with an incredulous expression.

“What?”

Marc huffed angrily, nostrils flaring as he threw himself onto the couch, a hand reaching up to run through his dark hair.

“I said, sorry to disappoint. I’m sure you’d much rather have Steven greeting you when you get home.”

“I never said that.”

You scoffed, approaching him slowly with your arms crossed over your chest. His brown eyes darted up to your face, his lips curled into a scowl.

“You didn’t have to. You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Where is this coming from, Marc?”

It was a stupid question—both of you knew the answer already. Marc’s nostrils flared as he averted his gaze from you, sulking silently and staring off at some point in the distance.

A pang of guilt accompanied the sigh that fell from your lips as you noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and you made your way to the empty spot next to him.

“Hey.”

You started gently, letting your hand trace across the veins of his forearm before your slid your fingers between his own.

“I’m sorry, Marc. I know—I know things have been moving pretty fast between me and Steven, and I know I haven’t made as much time for you as I should have. I’m sorry.”

You leaned into him, head ducking slightly in an attempt to catch his gaze with your own. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he drew in a long, deep inhalation, before he finally opened them again and fixed them on you.

“No, it’s—it’s okay, baby. I’m glad you and Steven are getting along, that’s exactly what I hoped would happen. And I’m sorry I—I freaked out. Just—miss you, s’all.”

He confessed, a slight blush creeping up his neck and ruddying his cheeks. Marc wasn’t often open about his feelings, so the brief moment of vulnerability was significant. You smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush your fingers through his soft curls.

“Why didn’t you just say so, huh, handsome?”

A smirk quickly made its way across his lips at the insinuation in your tone, his arms swiftly wrapping around your body to haul you up onto his lap and into a searing kiss.

It wasn’t until you were seconds away from an orgasm, Marc’s face buried between your thighs, that you’d fucked up.

“Shit, shit—”

You cried, fisting at the sheets on either side of you as Marc’s tongue swirled over your clit, two of his thick fingers buried in your weeping cunt.

“Oh, God, yes, m’gonna cum, gonna—ahh, fuck, don’t stop, yes, Steven, fuu—”

Your hips lurched off the bed when the stimulation abruptly ceased, your eyes shooting open in alarm only to come face-to-face with Marc’s hardened expression, his lips still shining with your slick.

“Fuck, why’d you—?”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He interrupted your whiny plea with his threatening words, growled lowly as his eyes narrowed at you. Your rapid heartrate only sped up when you thought back on your pleasured cries, quickly realizing your mistake. You bolted upright in an instant, your eyes wide and panicked, reaching to grip Marc’s bare shoulders.

“Oh, Marc, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He pulled away from you, rising to his knees on the bed so he loomed over you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your breath stuttered.

“What?”

You yelped when Marc lunged forward, his hand coming to twist in your hair to yank you harshly forward so you were face to face.

“I said,”

he growled, his breath hot on your face and fingers taut in your hair,

“get on your fucking knees.”

He released you with a rough shove and you scrambled off the bed onto your knees, quickly obeying his order. You watched as he slipped off his last remaining layer of clothing before he slowly made his way over to you, his figure towering over you with intimidation and malice. Excitement was beginning to swirl in the pit of your stomach—you’d never seen Marc so angry before, so domineering and unhinged. Still, a small pang of guilt shot through you at your earlier mistake.

“Marc, really, I’m so sorry—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He snapped, and you immediately obliged, eyes blowing wide at the sternness in his tone. His chest was heaving with labored breaths and his nostrils were flared, eyes alight with fury.

“You just don’t know when to stop fucking talking.”

He was right in front of you, now, languidly stroking his hardened length inches away from your face, precum beading at the slit. He reached forward and roughly grabbed your jaw in his other hand, fingers curling to squeeze your cheeks.

“You wanna keep moaning his name? Guess I’ll have to make you shut up.”

His hand migrated up and wrapped in your hair before yanking your neck back. When your lips parted with a surprised gasp, he immediately plunged his thick length into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat without warning. The sudden and abrupt intrusion caused you to gag harshly, and he pulled out only long enough for you to draw in a gasping breath before he thrusted forward again, sinking his cock all the way back into your throat and beginning a steady rhythm of fucking your face.

“Only way you’ll be quiet is if you’ve got a mouth full of dick, huh?”

He grunted, hips snapping forward. There was drool foaming at the sides of your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you forced yourself to sit back and let him use you, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat and his balls slapping noisily against your chin.

“Bet you miss him now, don’t you? Steven doesn’t treat you like this—doesn’t know how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You felt yourself grow impossibly wetter at his words, reaching up to brace your hands on his muscular thighs in order to prevent them from reaching between your legs to touch yourself. You felt his arm reach down until his fingers curled around your neck, allowing him to feel each stroke of his cock down your throat.

“Fuck, baby—such a pretty little whore.”

Finally, finally, he pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva still connecting the tip of his ruddy cock to your swollen lips. You gasped harshly, letting the mixture of tears and drool drip from your chin as you gazed up and him with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Marc, thank you, I love you, I—”

Marc growled, his grip on your throat tightening and briefly cutting off your airflow.

“Shut. Up.”

He hissed, pulling you upwards with his hand on your neck and tossing you towards the bed. You fell backwards, immediately pliant beneath him as he reached to lift both of your ankles above your head before abruptly plunging his spit-soaked cock into your dripping folds.

A pornographic mewl escaped you at the feeling of him penetrating you, your hole still tight and unprepared for the thickness of his cock. The burn of the stretch was intoxicating, but you were quickly pulled away from the feeling when Marc’s fingers found your jaw again, squeezing your cheeks so your lips involuntarily parted.

“Open.”

He growled, and you obliged, allowing him to spit straight into your awaiting mouth. You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he kept railing into you, your mouth closing as his taste overwhelmed you.

“You don’t swallow until I tell you—you hear me?”

You nodded vigorously, eyes silently pleading as tears continued to stream down your face, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as Marc bared his teeth.

“Yeah, that outta wash his name outta your filthy fuckin’ mouth, huh?”

You could barely hear him over the static humming in your ears, an orgasm creeping up and washing over you without warning. You choked on your sob, desperately following Marc’s orders and keeping your mouth full of his saliva despite your desperation to cry out.

Marc felt you clench down on him, and his pace quickened.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby—you cum all over this cock.”

He leaned forward and sank his teeth into the flesh of your collarbone, licking and sucking bruises into your neck and up your throat. You lay helpless beneath him, body melting into the mattress as he continued to pound into you relentlessly, the sting of his lips hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

“Gonna keep you covered in these, baby—he’s never gonna forget who you fuckin’ belong to.”

He grunted in your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth briefly before sitting back up, shifting up onto his knees and wrapping your legs around his waist before jackhammering into you once again.

He reached forward a final time to wrap his hand around your throat, now covered with red and purple bruises in the shape of his mouth.

“Swallow.”

He panted, his eyes wild and pace faltering.

"Swallow, and tell me who you belong to.”

You swallowed the fluid the had gathered across your tongue and finally let out a salacious moan, back arching off the bed as a second orgasm began building in your abdomen. You could hardly even remember what had started this thing in the first place, and you definitely didn’t care—your entire existence was overwhelmed with Marc, Marc, Marc.

"You, Marc—belong to you."

You cried, and you felt his fingers curl into your neck as he leaned over you, the heat of his body absolutely smothering you as his free hand reached between you to circle your clit. You keened.

“Again. Louder. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Marc—fuck, fuck, Marc, I belong to you, fuck—"

Your climax peaked fiercely, white hot and blinding as your toes curled and your entire body trembled beneath him. The rhythmic clenching of your tight cunt around him had Marc following close behind, his release punctuated by a sharp yelp before he buried himself to the hilt, allowing his seed to fill you completely, offering a few more deep thrusts before stilling.

Marc’s tension-laden body immediately collapsed on top of you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as his cock stayed nestled inside of you. Your arms wrapped around his clammy torso, one hand stroking a soothing line down his spine and the other brushing through his hair, your lips planting a soft kiss to his forehead. His frantic exhales were hot against your neck.

“I mean it, Marc. I’m yours.”

You assured in a whisper, and Marc tilted his head up to look at you, his once cold eyes now softened with a familiar gentleness.

“I know, baby.”

He leaned up and pecked you on the lips.

“And now you’ll never forget it.”

You let out an airy giggle, sinking back into the comfortable and familiar weight of his body on yours. After a few moments, you bit your lip and gave him a mischievous smile.

“So...when do I get to meet Jake?”

[witchy-scribblings]

imagine matching with rengoku kyojuro on tinder...

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has a long ass bio, written in all caps and with an excessive amount of exclamation marks and fire emojis, but his introduction is so sweet and endearingly to the point that you ignore the possibility of him being another weirdo.

❀ "about me: HI! I'M KYOJURO!!! I LOVE EATING AND KENDO TRAINING 🔥🔥 SET YOUR HEART ABLAZE AND FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 NOT LOOKING FOR HOOKUPS!!!"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has only uploaded three pictures of himself: a selfie featuring the most intense eyes and radiant smile you've ever seen, a shot of a table covered in various delicious-looking dishes and a full body shot of him right after a training session, displaying a very sculpted and very sweaty upper body.

❀ tinder date kyojuro whose friend, uzui, was the actual mastermind behind the idea of introducing him to online dating (and who is to blame for the addition of that third picture everyone say thank you tengen).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who isn't partial to the idea of matching for a hook-up because that's far from his style.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who feels so pulled in by your profile when it appears that he doesn't even swipe right, he superlikes instead.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who forces himself not to stare at your swimsuit pictures because he thinks it's disrespectful, but at the same time can't stop admiring how pretty your face and smile are.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who feels so ridiculously giddy when he matches with you (even more if you had already swiped right on him before he superliked you) that he messages you immediately.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who couldn't come up with a pick-up line to save his life, so he just started with a very simple, very straightforward "HI! I'M KYOJURO! I THINK YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! 🔥🔥😃"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is admittedly bad at replying because he's generally very disconnected from his phone, but when he does answer he can engage in hours-long conversations if nothing else demands his immediate attention and, of course, if you're up for them.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who respectfully ends chats with other matches the moment he becomes hopeful and optimistic about the direction of his conversations with you, because he would never, ever ghost other people if he stopped being interested.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has actually taken notes of the hints you drop from time to time, like preferred date types and spots, hobbies, your favorite flowers, what kind of drink you order at coffee shops...

❀ tinder date kyojuro who doesn't rush meeting you in real life because he's genuinely content just chatting with you and learning more about you, but is unmistakably excited when you decide to exchange phone numbers.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is smitten with the first voice note you send him, especially because it was of you wheezing at some funny inside joke he had referenced, and he had thought you had the most stunning kettle laugh ever (he lets you know that).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who physically fist bumps the air when the topic of your actual first date together comes up, and he can't help gushing to uzui about every detail he arranges with you. "a picnic, tengen! isn't it just the most wonderful idea for a first date?"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who turns up at the park only a few minutes later than you, apologizing for making you wait with a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is absolutely delighted (and, flankly, a little blown away) that you had prepared some homemade food for the picnic (some of which he remembers having mentioned he likes).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who hasn't even held hands with you yet, but thinks he could marry you on the spot after the first bite of your cooking; he's the literal embodiment of the saying "the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach" (and yes, of course he goes "UMAI").

❀ tinder date kyojuro who loses track of time when he's with you, and visibly deflates like a scolded puppy when it gets dark because it means it's time to say goodbye. it helps, just a little, that you ask him to walk you home, and he complies without hesitation.

❀ tinder date kyojuro, whose disappointment at having to part ways with you is easily fixed when you confess that you'd love to see him again as soon as possible, and he has to actively fight the urge to squeeze the life out of you right there by your doorstep.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who deletes his tinder account as soon as he gets home because he knows it in his bones that there's no need for further searching.

[slaughtershrine]

Words said once before.

(The Dark Lord/Dracula x Reader)

Summary: You had worked so hard for everyone all trial. You did gens, avoided the killer and even saved your teammates at the same time, wanting everyone to get out. Only to be betrayed at the last moment, your escape not nearly as important to others as theirs had been to you, hit and pushed down as nothing but bait for The Dark Lord. Word-count: 865.

Warning(s): Mentions of blood.

Everything spins as you lay nauseous on your aching back. Hunching over generators has been bad enough, the pulsing burn that had started at your lower spine has been making it's way to your shoulders throughout the whole trial. But the ache couldn't compare to the resentment you feel. You had done nothing but worked so hard on gens the whole trial — and such a good job at avoiding the killer not to mention saving your teammates, only to have a locker door slammed in your face, when one of your teammates jumps out, right as you made a break to open the exit gate. Mistakes happen, especially under fear and pressure during trials... But the feeling of them pushing you down, using you as opportune bait so they have a better chance to escape — it was smart. Such a painfully good advantage for them. But, the betrayal and embarrassment you feel couldn't have come at a worse time, looking up to see the new killer, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow at your pathetic downfall. Fuck he's tall. You had barely seen him, not a single chase — only a few split-second glances as you hid between pallets.

He's intimidating, just his atmosphere feels dark and suffocating. It's not hard to imagine freshly bloomed roses dying — wilting instantly from his gaze. You can feel his eyes scrutinizing every attribute you have, and you know what's coming next. A deep, low chuckle leaves his lips as his large hand reaches down toward you. "You are quite a pitiful thing, aren't you?" he mockingly asks. "Working so hard to help the rest, only to be left to die. How typical." You stare up at him with a more feeble expression than you would have liked, dreading as his hand comes closer and closer. His fingers long and pointed, with sharp nails to match. Thoughts of those claws tearing through your skin and toying with your muscles overtake you. It's impossible to fight off your body's reflex of screwing your eyes shut, and fearing for the worst.

Though you don't get lifted by your throat and held at arm's length, dragged to a hook like your fellow team-mates. Instead four cold finger pads drag down your cheek, a thumb on your opposite cheek to firmly hold your face in place during the action. "I can practically smell your blood rushing through your veins, and it is quite lovely." he purrs each word with intensity. His nails feel so sharp, like a painful itch under your skin. Leaving a horrid tingling, sting trailing down your cheek. When he pulls his hand away you feel a warm, liquid drip down your face. Blood. It's a slow trail, with not much blood, but it still leaves you stunned. You hear a deep growl come from his chest, you can feel it even, vibrating through the floor to your own chest. It has your eyes shooting back open, up to his face in panic. He looks down at his claw-ish nail, a small bead of your blood teetering on the tip. A sadistic smile spreads across his lips, he doesn't move his gaze from yours as he brings the digit to his mouth, licking the droplet of blood from it with a pleased groan. You feel sick, you can only think about gagging. You want to run, you want to leave.

The exit gate you had planned to open, sounds an alarm as it creaks open behind the killer, but he doesn't budge, he doesn't even break eye contact. You can hear someone's heavy panting and the stomps from their sprinting. You don't need to look to know that your teammate has left, and they aren't coming back for you. Besides, your eyes seem to be playing tricks on you, distorting your view, making it seem as though he is leaning in. Or is he leaning in? Why is he leaning in?? You can feel his breath on your face, cold, stale, dead. It feels wrong, unnatural and your stomach can't handle the scent of iron — from your own blood no less. He watches your eyes scrunch close again, the way your body sinks back from him as he leans in, the way he can smell the fear radiates off you. It's absolutely perfect. You're more appealing than the other human monsters. "What's the matter, pet?" He asks, his tone thick with amusement. His breath tickles your cheek, as he leans in closer. "Are you afraid?" His question is followed by a muffled, throaty chuckle, a sound you weren't expecting to hear. His hand finds its way back to your face, under your chin, pulling and forcing you to look at him again. You worked so hard to help the others, it reminds him of someone.

His fangs are exposed and prominent as he slowly drags his words along, savoring them as he talks, like they hold a meaningful memory, like they were only said once before. "I think I might like you."

[vampirebloodie]

Doctor Y/N | Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You're chosen to undergo medical tests on Soldier Boy and discover that maybe the russians hadn't killed his libido

Warning: smut 18+, mentions of sexism

"Do you want me to examine Soldier boy?"

You asked still a little incredulously, looking at Butcher.

"It's not a big deal, we just need to know if he's fit to fight Homelander."

"Okay, and you've forgotten that he's simply the most sexist, misogynistic guy there is?"

"It's just a check-up, beautiful. He won't swallow you alive."

You sigh and agree, knowing that if you said no, Butcher would suck you up until you agreed to help him. So you and the bearded man walk up to the apartment where Soldier is, Butcher opens the door and the two of you walk in, finding the man sitting on the couch, watching television and with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. That room looked like a mess, the coffee table was full of half-eaten fast food. You took one last look at Butcher before focusing on Soldier Boy.

"Is that Soldier Boy ?"

You whispered to Butcher, you didn't have a certain sense of who Vought's first generation of supes were, but you expected Soldier Boy to be an old guy.

"Yes, it is. This is Soldier Boy." *

Butcher answers almost off-handedly, not seeming to be paying you as much attention as the supe was. You can almost taste the disdain in his voice, as if he's talking about some common criminal and not one of, if not THE most dangerous supe in history. Soldier Boy didn't seem to be as bad a person as Homelander, but his powers were still dangerous.

Soldier Boy makes an immediate eye-contact with you, and you can almost feel his eyes on you, watching you. You get the feeling that he's judging you, analyzing every inch of you. This goes on for a second or two, before he gets up and walks over to you, Analyzing you carefully from top to bottom.

"So, who are you?"

He asks right away, his voice harsh and rough like sandpaper

"I'm Y/N."

"Y/n, huh? What the hell's a cute young thing like you doin' with Butcher and his dogs?"

Despite his harsh tone, his eyes are full of amusement and curiosity as he talks to you. After being trapped in a russian lab for so many years, it was something "new" to see women.

"I work with Butcher."

You say in a serious tone, crossing your arms. You weren't too fond of Soldier Boy's joke, but Butcher had already warned you that he had that kind of personality. And well, wouldn't it be nice to mess with a supe that can blow everything up in seconds.

"What a shitty job."

He scoffs, seeming amused by your expressions of disapproval at every word that comes out of his mouth. You'd love to give him a paw, but Butcher's look under you alerted you that it wasn't a good idea.

"Believe me, i've saved the boys' boots several times."

He notices you for a few moments again and his green eyes focus on the gray briefcase in your hands.

"What is that?"

"Briefcase. I'm going to need it."

"What's in the briefcase?"

He asks a little impatient and suspicious, the PTSD really seemed to affect him quite a bit.

"Relax. She will not hurt you."

Butcher says, trying to calm him down a bit.

"Of course she won't. She can't, she's a woman."

You squinted at the brunette, he was quite cheeky, and unfortunately you'd have to get used to it during the examination.

"At least is pretty."

His greenish eyes wander from your head to your feet, watching you closely. You crossed your arms and cleared your throat.

"I didn't come here to flirt with you."

Soldier Boy chuckles, amused at your attitude. He's seen every trick by now, and he has a feeling he'll have quite a bit of fun with you.

"Then what the hell did you come here for, sweetheart?"

"Because i'm the group's doctor. It's not a good idea to take you to a hospital, so Butcher wants me to examine you."

"Examine me for what, exactly?"

He asks, his tone a bit confused and slightly intrigued. As the woman mentions her role of being the doctor in the group, he looks closer and notices a first aid kit on her belt. It doesn't take him long to put two and two together before chuckling again.

"After what happened to you in Russia.... We just want to know if you're really able to fight against Homelander."

Butcher was unsure after learning what the russians had done to Soldier Boy had in any way affected his strength, even though the experiments had turned him into a time bomb that could explode at any moment, they would still need to weaken Homelander as much as possible before exploding him.

Soldier Boy's chuckle quickly turns into a scowl, and his facial expressions hardens immediately, his eyes narrowing again.

"So you just assume i'm weak now?"

His tone is sharper than before, as if he's trying to hide any kind of weakness he might have after spending years in a lab. His voice is much more agitated compared to his flirtatious one. He wasn't liking people thinking he was weak, especially a woman.

"Nope. But after everything that's happened, we need to know if what russians injected into you made you stronger... or weakened"

You've been very clear on the possibility that he's gotten weaker

Soldier Boy seems annoyed at first at the implication that he's gotten weaker, but he seems to mull it over for a couple of seconds before relaxing a bit.

"You have a good point. But it won't make a difference, sweetheart. I'll be as fit as ever. But if it makes you worry any less, I'll let you examine me.".

You take one last look at Butcher and MM, who were still inside the room.

"You guys can go now, I'll be fine."

Butcher and MM just nod, giving you a reassuring smile before walking off. You put the briefcase on top of the coffee table and open it, there were some medical instruments inside. Soldier Boy watches you with an amused and curious expression, sitting down on the couch and getting comfortable. You can tell that he's definitely a little curious about you and what your intentions are with him, but he's keeping his tongue, for now at least, as he waits for the examination to begin.

"Take off your shirt."

Soldier Boy raises his eyebrows in surprise for a bit but complies quickly, standing up and taking off his sleeveless shirt. Underneath you can now see just how fit he is, being leanly sculpted and having defined muscles all over his body. The man is definitely cut. He stands in front of you, waiting for the exam to begin, You gesture and he sits back down on the green couch.

You grab the stethoscope and sit next to him on the couch, placing the device in your ears and pressing the other side of the device against his chest, in his heart.

"Take three deep breaths and inhale"

Soldier Boy obliges, taking the three deep breaths like you directed. As he exhales, you can hear just how calm his heartbeat is. He's definitely got a good heart. You can hear the strong beats pumping a steady pace.

"A healthy heart."

You take out the stethoscope and grab a small flashlight.

"Don't close your eyes"

Soldier Boy raises his eyebrows once again, but doesn't say anything, instead just looking at you as you take out the flashlight. He seems both curious as to what you're going to do next, and skeptical at the same time, but keeps his eyes wide open even when you tell him not to close them.

You examine his eyes with the flashlight, it was all right. He didn't seem to have any eye damage even with the lab experiments.

"Good vision too."

Soldier Boy smiles at that, clearly pleased with your approval. But his expression quickly changes to a frown when he remembers what else you were going to examine.

"What else are you going to do?"

"This depends. Do you feel any pain? Any pressure? twinge?"

You run your hands over his body, giving it a gentle squeeze, to see if maybe he could feel pain due to some muscle or bone damage.

Soldier Boy seems to tense up a little whenever you run your hands over him, but you can't tell if it's because it's uncomfortable or because he's liking it. But whatever the case, it's clear that your touch affects him in some way, and he quickly takes in a sharp breath each time you touch him, as if he's feeling quite a bit of sensation. He definitely doesn't seem to be feeling any pain, though.

"Yes or no?"

Soldier Boy thinks for a few seconds before finally answering your question.

"No. Nothing hurts. Everything feels pretty normal."

You just nod and pull out a syringe and an empty tube.

"Can I get some of your blood out?"

"Yeah, sure."

His tone is neutral and a bit uncaring as he holds his arm out to you. You can tell that he's not as wary about all that's going on as he was before, and he seems to actually trust you after this little examination. His expression returns to a smirk, seeming to be entertained by your efforts.

You take his arm, squeezing until you feel one of the veins, then you stick the needle into his blue vein. Soldier Boy seems to wince somewhat as you stick the needle in his vein, his face making a slight frown for just a second before he quickly regains his composure and his neutral expression. He doesn't flinch or even try to pull away from you, and he just seems to be patiently waiting for you to get this all over with.

You connect the tube with the needle and wait for the tube to fill with blood, then you take out the needle and close the tube carefully. You clean the hole in his arm with a cotton pad and put on a Homelander infant bandage.

Soldier Boy seems to be slightly amused at the band-aid, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead he just raises his eyebrows slightly and waits to see what you'll do next. You suddenly stand up and face him, your hands go to his neck and you move his neck a little.

"Any pain? Discomfort?"

Soldier Boy seems to tense up slightly when you touch his neck, but once again, it doesn't seem to be a feeling of pain, but rather of sensitivity. He almost seems to be enjoying the touch from you again, your hands were soft, he liked it, and you can see a slight grin on his face for a moment before he answers your question.

"No. Feels normal."

You take your hands off his neck and put the things back inside the briefcase. You take a small machine and pour his blood into a glass, letting the machine analyze it.

Soldier Boy waits patiently as you put the things back in your briefcase and run the analysis on his blood. He seems more than just a little bit curious as to what the results will be, but he's not expecting anything serious to come from it. He stays quiet and waits for your results.

After a few minutes the machine prints a paper with the results, you pick up the paper and start reading it. You read calmly without saying anything, and this seems to make him extremely anxious.

Soldier Boy continues to just wait patiently as you read the results, seeming to be waiting to see how this will go. The results from the paper will definitely decide whether he's ready to get back in the game or not. So he's keeping his mouth shut for now and just awaiting your verdict.

"...What is it? What does the paper say?"

Soldier Boy asks, starting to get a little impatient and anxious from not knowing the results yet. His scowl starts to return as he speaks.

"I think you're not Soldier Boy anymore."

You look at him, Soldier Boy's scowl almost immediately transforms into a look of pure shock. His eyes suddenly narrow and he starts standing up.

"What the hell do you mean I'm not Soldier Boy anymore?!!?"

His expression becomes one of pure anger at your remark. You decide to correct yourself quickly, remembering that he is a ticking time bomb and could destroy everything with the slightest amount of anger.

"You are the super soldier boy! Whatever the russians injected into you, it made you stronger than before."

His expression changes again to a smirk, this time, an amused one.

"Oh, so that's what it is- they made me stronger, huh? So that means I can get back to doing what I do best."

He says proud of himself.

"Exactly. And look, you've become fertile again. compound v made you infertile, but what russians injected in your body brought your fertility back."

Another change in his expression as his smirk once again grows large over his face.

"Wait, you're telling me that now I can actually have a kid again?"

He seems thrilled and excited at this discovery, his body language and tone indicating that he's quite pleased with these results, And a mischievous idea begins to run through his mind.

"You look great, better than ever. Your results are perfect!"

"Perfect results, huh?!"

Soldier Boy's scowl suddenly turns into a big grin. He seems to be very pleased with your assessment, but he's not quite convinced that he should completely trust you just yet. And he's definitely not going to let on just how happy he is to hear his fertility is back.

"So I'm better off than I've been in a long time, right?"

"Right. You've got what it takes to kill Homelander, and it looks like it's going to be an easy task."

Soldier Boy can't help but chuckle at the way you're talking about this as if it'll be some walk in the park. His smile is clearly amused but also showing his arrogance as he speaks

"And what about you? You think you can handle your part of this little task, as well?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it can't be all me, can it?"

He seems to be looking down at you as his tone and expression become more teasing with each word. He's enjoying this interaction, his whole body language turning flirtatious and playful.

"I'm not a supe. I will not fight Homelander."

"Awww, really?"

Soldier Boy seems almost disappointed by that answer.

"I feel like this is such a shame now."

A sly grin spreads across his face before he quickly takes a small step closer to you on the couch. His tone still remains playful but he's now closer to you than before.

"Honey, I'm the doctor of the group. I keep my partners alive and tend to all their injuries, but I'm still human. Homelander is 30x stronger than me, it would be suicidal to try to bust him. Believe me, I've tried."

Soldier Boy seems to chuckle at that.

"30x stronger than you? Sounds like a whole lot of talk. And you've tried to fight him before? What happened? Did you get your little ass handed to him?"

You roll your eyes, feeling disgusted by his comment.

"Well, he tried to take me to bed and I refused, and he almost blew my head off with those laser beams."

Soldier Boy once again bursts out with laughter, his amusement now turning to pure humor. He can't stop cackling at what you had said. You'd stare at him blankly as he burst into laughter, but it wasn't really funny at all.

"Wow...he tried to take you to bed? How charming of him. Almost blew your head off too? Well, you know what they say- girls like the "bad boys."

He finishes that last sentence off with an amused wink. If he wasn't a supe you would definitely have punched him in the face now. You sigh.

"Look.. Homelander isn't ugly, but he's still Homelander, the fucking supe psycho, and i don't even like blondes"

Soldier Boy arch his eyebrow.

"Oh, so you have a type, huh? What about me? Am I your type?"

Soldier Boy seems to just be enjoying messing with you as his expression and tone remain playful and flirtatious.

"Misogynistic, sexist, closed-minded guys don't interest me."

"You're pretty brave to talk to me like that, woman."

You lose your temper and get up from the couch with the exam paper still in hand.

"I need to show your exams to Butcher, he's going to like this"

Soldier Boy seems both amused and a bit concerned about your mention of Butcher. So he nods his head in understanding, although he's not about to let you off the room so easily.

"So, are you just going to run off and show Butcher right now? Because if you're about to leave, I've got something else I want to ask you..."

"Ask what, Soldier Boy?"

You look at him crossing your arms.

Soldier Boy smirks as he leans back a bit on the couch and gestures for you to come closer.

"Did you think I was going to let you leave like that?"

You look at him with confused and suspicious eyes. Once again, he's being quite playful and flirtacious in his tone and body language. Soldier Boy's smile only grows as you get closer to him. Once you're right next to him, he grabs your waist and pulls you even closer to him. Then he whispers softly to you in a very teasing tone,

"Oh, I wonder what it is that I could possibly want from you now..."

"Let me go."

You try to break free from him, but his big, strong hands keep you in place like you're a doll.

Soldier Boy leans in even closer and whispers to you again, this time keeping his hands firmly on your waist, pressing himself firmly up against you. His body language is still very playful and flirtatious, but he's not giving you any space to pull away or escape right now.

"So do you think you can guess what it is that I want from you now?"

"I'm not going to fuck with you!"

You say firm. Soldier Boy pulls you in closer yet again, still holding you by your waist. This time he whispers right into your ear very slowly and seductively, making no effort to hide the flirtatiousness of his tone.

"Oh really? You won't do anything at all with me?"

"Exactly! You heard me very well."

You try to take his hands off your waist again, a waste of time, as soon as he pulls you once again you end up falling on top of his lap, your hands go to his shoulders automatically and you stare at him with wide eyes.

Soldier Boy's smile grows even bigger from your reaction as you fall into his lap and your bare hands press up against him. He's still smiling and looking down at you in a way that is very flirtatious but also very intimidating, as if to say that you have no chance of escaping him now.

You try to stand up but he pulls you again, harder this time, losing his patience, you moan softly as your pelvis slams into his thighs in a strong way.

Soldier Boy lets out a low-pitched growl as you bump up against him, and the sound of your moan does nothing but further turn him on. Your body brushing up against his is sending shivers of pleasure through his bones, and he doesn't seem to want any of this to stop anytime soon. So he pulls you even closer yet again, still keeping his hands firmly on your waist.

"You say you don't want to, so why do I feel your panties soaking wet all over me?"

Soldier Boy's voice is low and predatory as he continues to pull you in even closer towards him, his whole body language now showing that he's enjoying this little encounter of yours. You feel your cheeks get red, he catched you, You try to get up again but he pulls you once again, this time holding you tight and keeping you in place.

"Be quiet."

His hands squeezed your waist tightly, as an act of possessiveness.

"You've examined me, now it's my turn, and i want to do it internally."

You didn't even have time to react before Soldier Boy pushed you against the couch and climbed on top of you, kissing you fiercely and aggressively, you in turn returned the kiss quickly, even though you knew it was wrong and that Butcher and M.M could come back at any moment. You couldn't deny it, as much as he had been imprisoned in Russia for years as a prisoner, he still had a great grip. His hands roamed your body and you surrendered right there to him, his strong hands ripped your blouse at once, exposing your breasts. Ben looked into your eyes as if he could see your soul and smile, his mouth quickly landed on your breast and you threw your head back and opened your mouth, surprised.

You pushed him back and started unzipping his pants belt like a ferocious animal, you had been sexless for a while, so that stimulation activated your libido on a total animalistic level, and Ben's as well. He stands up and turns you around at once, throwing you against the couch and kissing your lips fiercely, spreading your legs and fitting into the middle of them, her hand goes to his pants lowering it completely along with his underwear, Ben takes off his underwear in an impressive quick way and quickly fits his member into his entrance, thrusting himself at once into you, you two moan in unison, your arousal eases the act and makes it less painful and Ben takes advantage of it, beginning to move rapidly back and forth, making a wet noise echo through the silent room that was now only filled by this noise and sound of moans.

His face hides in your neck as he inhales your scent and you grab his strong and big back, your legs curl between his waist, squeezing him tighter to you, you wanted him. Ben was almost roaring like a lion from how excited he was, years without sex couldn't be bought for the months you were without.

"Do you like it, hm?"

He asks taking out your hair that was stuck to your forehead due to sweat, you couldn't even answer, you just nodded your head amidst moans. Ben closes his eyes and screams burying himself once and for all in you at once, making your legs tremble, you both breathe hard and he comes out of you after a few seconds, sitting on the couch, while you continue lying there gasping for breath, his forehead rests on your knee.

"I'm glad you let me know that now I can have children again."

He says and you widen your eyes, staring at him.

"What?!"

You ask in shock and he just winks at you, flashing that scoundrel smile again.

— Please, if you liked it, give it a like, comment and reblog 💞 —

[nofomogirl]

We need to talk about body snatching

I'm not a massive fan of the 1827 minisode - if you're curious why it bothers me, I've explained it in my post about two GO canons - but there's no denying it does an amazing job at exploring the complexity of morality and moral choices. It starts with a very black-and-white two-dimensional image and gradually adds shading and perspective, making it harder and harder to judge as we go along.

I think it's worth digging into (pun not intended but I'll take it).

Layer 1: body snatching bad

We learn someone did something

It's those first few seconds where we see a person robbing a grave, and since we know that robbing graves is a crime and generally not a good thing to do, we can quickly form a tentative conclusion that this is wrong.

Okay, in this exact instance, we immediately get enough context clues to see that this kind of judgment would be oversimplistic and superficial. Only Aziraphale, who for some reason acts as if it was his first day on Earth after a thorough memory wipe, is ready to condemn Elspeth based on just that.

Nevertheless, this is the first layer - the deed itself with no context.

Layer 2: body snatching acceptable

We learn about the person who did the thing

That's the whole journey with the first dug-up body where we get to know Elspeth and become privy to her circumstances - she's desperately poor, she has another person depending on her, she robs graves to survive. Aziraphale's suggestions that she might earn her living by selling books, weaving or farming just serve to prove how inaccessible more honest and dignified professions are to her. In turn, her comment about how she's not hurting anybody who isn't already dead hints that from the realistically available options, Elspeth could have chosen something much worse.

Technically this layer is a significant step up from layer 1 but it still isn't really challenging. Things are spelt out really loud for us, and most importantly everything we learn about Elspeth is just attenuating circumstances. To top it off both she and Wee Morag are immediately endearing. The takeaway is that sometimes things that in theory are bad can be excused which is important but the verdict still comes without any second thoughts.

Layer 3: body snatching complicated

We learn the larger context around the thing

This mostly happens when Aziraphale and Crowley discuss body snatching with Mr Dalrymple. We learn that the stolen corpses are used for a medical study that can advance human knowledge and make it possible to save living people and that surgeons have no legal means to obtain enough of them for their research - hence their need to buy them from body snatchers.

At first glance it's just more of what we got in layer 2 - more agruments in favour of body snatching that aren't all that nuanced and don't really give us any pause - just from a larger perspective, beyond Elspeth's individual experience. But if you glance more than once you'll notice this is when things stop being straightforward and easy to judge.

The moment we enter a proper grey area is when Aziraphale asks why Mr Dalrymple doesn't acquire the bodies himself. This is a very valid question - while we might easily agree that studying the human body to further medical knowledge is a good thing, and with just the slightest hesitation admit that it's acceptable to resort to using stolen bodies if that is the only way the research may continue, it's not as easy to excuse taking advantage of the poor and the desperate to do the actual stealing that we know is very dangerous.

The moment we know without a doubt we are in a proper grey area is when Mr Dalrymple laughs at Aziraphale's concern.

Objectively, the surgeon is right that it's more effective if he doesn't risk his own life in the graveyard and uses his time on actual research, teaching students and saving lives. But it's also clear he doesn't exactly see people like Elspeth as actual human beings and feels he has every right to use them. On the one hand, he is paying, on the other, he happily benefits from the cruel class system and is not even one bit remorseful about it. On the one hand, he takes risks too, on the other he has a chance of rewards Elspeth will not benefit from. It's not the poorest whose lives will get bettered by the progress of medicine, even though they're the ones who pay with their lives for that progress. And if Mr Dalrymple gets lucky and is knighted for his work (we know he wasn't in the end but it was a possibility), the poor still won't be pardoned for stealing for him. Nevertheless, he has no issue with that.

As I said, things get nuanced.

Layer 4: it's different when it's someone you know

The thing actually happens in your life

I think you'll all agree that the turning point of the minisode is when Elspeth decides to sell Wee Morag's still warm body. This is what finally leaves us speechless.

That's because up until now we've been approaching the issue intellectually. It's not that we didn't care about the characters, but we were allowed to keep a safe distance. The whole thing was like a problem to be solved - "Is body snatching right or wrong? Discuss in 500-1000 words" - and everything we've learned so far was data for this assignment. I believe that one of the reasons why this detachment came naturally was that there was a very thick line between people involved in body snatching and the bodies that were being snatched. The former were, well, people, obviously. The latter were inanimate objects.

It isn't until Wee Morag is to be sold that we are forced to see a person in a dead body. This is also when real emotions enter the equation.

This shift forces us to question our judgment for the first time. It was easy to justify Elspeth when she was selling a nameless corpse. But the fact that she decided to sell her closest companion - and most likely lover - shocks us. Something inside us strongly objects to how quickly she makes the decision.

And then there's the transaction, and it is also different when it's someone we know. The fact that we knew Wee Morag fully exposes Mr Dalrymple for the heartless jerk that he is. The way he treats Elspeth is the absolute worst and if you haven't realized he was a hypocrite earlier, you should be disillusioned by now.

But at least Elspeth is not a hypocrite, right? It may seem cold that she sold Wee Morag but it just proves she simply believed it's all right to sell a dead body, doesn't it?

Well, about that...

Layer 5: it's different when it's you

You are forced to face the thing happening to you

This layer is reached when Elspeth plans her suicide and asks Aziraphale and Crowley to bury her "somewhere where no ghouls will ever dig her back up again".

It turns out Elspeth McKinnon really was a filthy liar.

Not long ago she was insisting that body snatching doesn't hurt anyone who isn't already dead, and asking why she should let Wee Morag rot in the ground when she starves. But she wants to make sure it doesn't happen to her own body. The idea that someone might dig her up terrifies her and she calls people who do it ghouls. So why was digging up other people okay again? Why should she rot in the ground while other people suffer? There were other people living in the street where she and Wee Morag hid. Why not ask Aziraphale to give the money to them? Or just anybody in need? Why not ask to sell her body as well and use the earnings the same way?

Also, if you look at it from a certain perspective, Elspeth betrayed Wee Morag in the worst possible way. Wee Morag believed that if someone's body gets cut, that person's soul cannot enter Heaven. Yet Elspeth sold her to Mr Dalrymple, claiming that Wee Morag would have wanted her to have the means to survive. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Wee Morag would have made that sacrifice. But then Elspeth decided to kill herself and use the money she got for Wee Morag's body for her own funeral.

But does it make Elspeth wicked? Certainly not. She's simply torn by grief. I seriously doubt she's been planning to commit suicide when she was taking Wee Morag to Mr Dalrymple. She might have genuinely tried to carry on but the reality of what happened caught up to her. Mr Dalrymple's cruel words certainly didn't help her cope with a personal tragedy. I even suspect one of the reasons she sold her friend was that she had no idea what else to do with a dead body.

Does this excuse her actions? Kind of, but not really.

Elspeth was a tragic character, not an innocent lamb with a heart of gold.

The point is - can any of us really judge her?

Which, coincidentally, is a question that the original Good Omens book toyed with quite a lot.

If you've reached this far, thank you for reading!

[rifari2037]

16. Do you think Zuko and Katara developed feelings for each other in canon or post-canon?

I think, Zutara developed feelings for each other in both canon and post-canon.

If talk about development feelings in general and not specifically about romantic feelings, I can say that their development feelings had been there since the beginning of the season.

When they first met, neither of them cared about each other's existence. Zuko didn't see Katara as a threat, while Katara only saw Zuko as someone from the Fire Nation. They were enemies, nothing more than that.

After they met a few times, Zuko's impression of Katara changed from an unimportant girl and terrible waterbender, to an enemy that couldn't be underestimated.

It's a development of the relationship.

Then, their conversation in the Crystal Catacomb became a significant development in their relationship.

Their feelings develop from enemies, to someone who can understand each other because they have the same experience, which is losing their mother.

Katara trusted Zuko enough to give him something she was saving for a very important situation. Meanwhile Zuko trusted Katara enough to let her touch his scar.

Katara's expression towards Zuko conveys different meanings, in the first scene she looked annoyed and in the second scene she looked hurt. It showed that after Zuko betrayed her, Katara's feelings for Zuko grew from hatred for an enemy to hatred for being betrayed.

No one would hurt when betrayed by an enemy, unless they already trusted their enemy on different level.

Their relationship development changed drastically after Katara forgave Zuko. Their feelings for each other changed from enemies to friends. And they became yin and yang, opposites but complementing and trusting each other.

When it comes to developing feelings romantically, I feel like the spark was there since their journey in Southern Raider. Moreover, I always had a headcanon that Zuko and Katara had a really deep moment together, until Zuko picked up the rest of the Gaang to Ember Island.

The spark was still so small, they could still deny it.

The spark grew bigger when they saved each other's lives when facing Azula. This moment makes a lot more sense if they were the ones kissing in the final scene.

Or if you follow the canon storyline, then their feelings would develop in post-canon, when they finally realised that their 'canon' partner wasn't a bad person, but not right for them. They could no longer deny their feelings for each other and end up together.

17. How do you think Iroh and Hakoda would react to Zutara?

Iroh and Hakoda are wise men, I feel like they wouldn't have a problem with Zuko and Katara's relationship.

First, Hakoda. He initially had a bad assumption of the Fire Nation royal family until Sokka said that Zuko could be trusted. And Zuko proved it by reuniting him with his daughter.

Not only that, Hakoda must saw when Zuko saved Katara from the rocks. Hakoda certainly could trust his daughter's safety to Zuko no matter what the stakes. And that was proven when he gave up his life to save Katara from Azula's lightning.

If they were together, Hakoda clearly had no worries about his daughter.

In post-canon, Katara couldn't deny her feelings for Zuko but she was hesitant. She thought about her mother who died because of the Fire Nation, how she ends up in a relationship with the Fire Lord?

Hakoda would convince Katara that Fire Lord Zuko wasn't the one who killed her mother, instead he was the one who brought her to her mother killer. And her mother wouldn't be happy to see her daughter kill her own heart because of her, after she sacrificed her life to keep her daughter alive.

Then Iroh. He knew his nephew very well, especially his stubborn nature. Iroh is wise and always sees things from a different perspective, he must felt that Katara was a good influence on Zuko. But still, I'm sure he was surprised when Zuko, without any hesitation, asked Katara to accompany him to facing Azula, rather than insisting on fighting her alone.

If they were together, Iroh must be sure they would complement each other, because he knew there was bond between them since Zuko took the lightening to save her.

In post-canon, Zuko couldn't deny his feelings for Katara but he was hesitant. As a Fire Lord, he was afraid that his people would not accept someone from the water tribe to become First Lady. Moreover, this had never happened before in the history of the Fire Nation royal family.

Iroh will convince Zuko that he has made history by declaring the end of the 100-year war, he as Fire Lord can also make history by marrying someone from the Water Tribe. Their marriage will be a symbol of peace between the Fire Nation and the other nations. Also, Zuko has a lot of responsibilities and Katara could help him to lead their people.

18. How do you think the Gaang would react to Zutara?

When Zuko and Katara surprised the Gaang that they were dating, no one shocked, except for Aang.

They were like, "I knew this day would come."

Zuko and Katara didn't realised that their love on each other was very obvious. The rest of the Gaang knew it from the start, but kept it quiet and gave them a chance to develop their own relationship.

I guess, the Gaang started to get suspicious at this point. They didn't know what their problems, but it seemed very personal.

Imagine after that, Zuko went to Sokka and talked about his sister. Since Zuko interrupted his date with Suki, Sokka must've told her and Suki started to wonder, "Is there something between them?"

After a little field trip with Zuko, they seemed to be very close, but they denied it. But, the more they denied it, the more it became clear there was something between them.

It was weird that during the performance of Ember Island Players, the Gaang always commented on various occasions, but they didn't comment or shocked during Zuko and Katara scene in the Crystal Catacomb.

I mean, the show did exaggerate the facts, but it was still based on reality. No one really knows what was going on between them and the scenes on stage were supposed to be controversial.

I was expecting a comment, maybe from Sokka as her brother, like, "Hey, you guys weren't really flirting, were you?" But no, Suki smiled instead and Sokka looked like it wasn't a surprise.

They denied it again when June teased that they were dating. Did the Gaang notice? Of course!

They held hands before, then they slept back to back, then Katara comforted Zuko before meeting his uncle, then Zuko asked Katara without hesitation to face Azula. And Gaang was there to notice all of that.

As I said before, all of the Gaang members are aware that there is something between Zuko and Katara, except Aang.

It wasn't like Aang didn't realise that, he just denied it because his attraction to Katara. He was still saw her as his 'forever girl'. But later, after Aang matured, he finally realised that his duty as the Avatar was far more important than his crush on Katara. The only way to open his chakra was to let Katara go and he did that.

Aang finally accepted the relationship between Zuko and Katara.