#after posting again: I REALLY want to draw just. characters in normal clothing hanging out

[slumbergoblin]

hey

[moonxmagix]

A Room Full of Silence

A/N: Hey !! This is not what I usually post so I apologize. I really wanted to write about my feelings of these past few weeks/months. It was such a in the moment story, and was able to get it done in maybe 30 minutes max. Enjoy !

There I sat on the edge of my bed, in the deafening silence of my dimly lit room. It wasn’t clean by any means, clothes scattered, makeup taking up space on my vanity, posters hanging on the wall, some beginning to peel away from aging tape. 

I sighed while taking a bite of the donut that was bought for me at the end of the night. Another date, failed. I spent so much time getting ready and dedicating myself to this one person, ignoring anyone who dared to talk to me. Thinking anything would come from it. 

If they saw your room, that disinterest would only worsen between us I thought to myself. I got up  still in my uncomfortable date clothes tidying up my room. I normally would change as soon as I got home due to my sensory issues but I felt too numb. My body is almost trying to savor the moments of the night. 

Clothes were put away, put in the laundry, makeup was organized neatly in draws, posters hung up with new tape, plants were watered. I felt accomplished in my work, I checked the time to see it hit 1AM. My date clothes were put in the wash while I put on my t-shirt that sported my comfort character and pajama bottoms. 

My comfort character could never hurt me, they’d be perfect for me. Right? I thought to myself. 

I turned the lights off, my fairylights casting a faint glow making it hard but not impossible to see in my room. I took my glasses off and  reached for my phone, no messages or new notifications. I sighed, not even a “Hope you got home safe!” text. 

I went and searched for the content of my favorite character. Giggles filled the room as my infatuation grew deeper. I decided to check my dating apps and swipe. Finding a few men I thought weren’t too bad. 

~

My alarms blared and I hesitantly arose from my coffin. I did nothing but rot there anyway. I went about my morning and decided to check my dating apps. One guy in particular caught my eye, long brown hair, dead sleepy eyes, skinny, almost dead, just my type I thought. We clicked instantly and our energies bounced off perfectly against one another. 

After spending a week talking we decided to meet up at my place for a movie night and some takeout. We matched even better in person, calling me beautiful, telling me how he liked my stretch marks and how they complimented me perfectly. Unable to keep his hands off me for a second, whining when I had to get up even a couple seconds. 

I knew this person was different, there was a special bond between us. He left that night and his smell lingered on my pillows, smiling from the joy of another person's touch. But that feeling soon changed, my lips tightened, my nose burned, and tears welled in my eyes. 

~

The second time we hung out, not even a date which is fine I guess. I’ll make an exception for him. Do I dare bring it up? Oh god no, you don’t wanna seem desperate do you? Let him make the moves. 

There he stood at my door, dressed in sweatpants and a band t-shirt. Similar to something I’d wear, I talked to him about my sensory issues and he understood surprisingly enough and said he related to me. It was such a sigh of relief not having to explain yourself and the way you acted. 

He left again that night, smiling and giggling, smelling, showering, and then crying. At least he told me he had a good night, right?

~

This is the third time he’s coming over! Maybe I’ll dress up a little more, maybe then he’ll ask me. Right? We cuddled, watched movies, talked about the stuff we love and dream about, we laughed until he spoke, “Just so you know, I’m not looking for anything serious,” my face drops. 

The energy shifted and he knew that. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner. We can still do this though with just no strings attached,” he said, trying to sound remorseful. I just nodded, clenching my jaw to stop myself from crying. “Yeah,” is all I could say, choking back tears. 

The rest of the night was tense, not much touching went on. Conversation was dim and held no substance. What did I do wrong? My apartment was clean. My makeup was done up nicely, not too heavy but not too light. Did I say something? Is it because of how I look? 

“It’s getting late, I should go,” he said, his words uncomfortable and awkward. I led him to the door, not even taking him fully out like I would usually do. Not a “goodnight”, not a “I’ll see you again”, not a “I had fun”. Just an odd, uncomfortable smile and wave. 

~

I shut the door and locked it, the sounds of the horror movie we were watching filled the room. The screaming and pleading of the victims were comforting to me this particular night. Is it because they were suffering along with me? 

I sat at the edge of my bed and sighed. Looking at my disheveled room, I didn't think it could get this messy this quick. The dissociation kicked in, there I sat frozen in place for hours. Unable to do anything with myself.

I pushed myself back into bed, clothes remained scattered scarcely along the floor, posters remained un-taped, food scraps and garbage remained on my nightstand, plants remained unwatered. 

But the next one will be different, right?

[nypmphetsbastard]

They Both Die in the End

Genre: angst...just angst

Pairings: Eren Yeager x reader

Timeline: season 4 Eren

Summary: SPOILER ALERT! They both die in the end.

Warnings: Smut, angst, major character death, emotional, season 4 warnings do not continue if you’re not caught up with the anime.

A/N: this story is also posted on AO3

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If you could go back to it all, would you? Before Marley, before the war, before the titan shifters, before the fall of Shiganshina, before everything — would you go back? Go back to living peacefully inside the walls of Maria watching eh our next door neighbor Eren and his two other friends run around, too nervous to ask yet watching their games of tag together. Go back to the day the youngest Yeager son noticed you from afar and invited you to play with them. Go back to those days. 

Those final days of peace. If you could go back to it all, would you? Before Marley, before the war, before the titan shifters, before the fall of Shiganshina, before everything — would you go back? Go back to living peacefully inside the walls of Maria watching eh our next door neighbor Eren and his two other friends run around, too nervous to ask yet watching their games of tag together. Go back to the day the youngest Yeager son noticed you from afar and invited you to play with them. Go back to those days. 

Those final days of peace. If you could go back to it all, would you? Before Marley, before the war, before the titan shifters, before the fall of Shiganshina, before everything — would you go back? Go back to living peacefully inside the walls of Maria watching eh our next door neighbor Eren and his two other friends run around, too nervous to ask yet watching their games of tag together. Go back to the day the youngest Yeager son noticed you from afar and invited you to play with them. Go back to those days.  Those final days of peace.

Before it all fell.

Maybe. Maybe you would go back. But you couldn't. No matter how much prayed and wish upon a star, it would never come to pass. You were stuck. You were all stuck. But in a moment like this, you didn't mind being stuck here.

Stuck in his arms, under his broad shoulders and wrapped in your own personal layer of protection. His soft eyelashes laid gently along to top of his cheeks, the dark brown locks you loved so dearly had now grown a little past his chin and his once short and skinny frame had grown significantly since he turned 18.

You tenderly tucked his long hair behind his ear, watching as his eyelashes fluttered open at the lightest touch. It was sad, honestly, how light of a sleeper he'd become. Anyone who knew Eren only now would've laughed at a time he was a heavy sleeper, it was sad, how quickly he had to adapt to constant alert. No longer enjoying his moments of peace and quiet.

A brown broke you out of your thoughts as Eren licked his lips and drubbed the tiredness out of his eyes before sighed and looking down at the person in his arms.

Eren couldn't help but remember the words Jean had once said to him when they were just 15. "How you managed to find someone like that, I will never know. But don't screw it up, because you never know if the next time you'll see them will be on the street or in a body bag." He sighed, reaching his hand over to your cheek, gently caressing the skin.

He knew the two of you would never have a moment like this ever again, that his future will always result in complete anarchy and chaos but that wouldn't stop him from basking in the light that was you.

"Good morning." You giggled, this gentle touch sending shivers up your spine.

"Morning." He whispered back. "We have to get up soon. Captain Levi says we have more Marleyan's coming from the port today."

You sighed and pushed your head closer into his chest, "That's boring...and morbid. I just wanna spend time with you." You whined, Eren chuckled sadly.

"I know...but that doesn't mean we can't make it count now." Eren mumbled, leaning into your neck. You hummed and relaxed in his arms as he began to suck the skin on your neck.

"No hickeys. You know what Levi said about them." You breathed out trying to keep your composure, Eren pulled away with a shit eating grin.

"Whoops." you rolled your eyes at him and let your lips meet in a hungry kiss.

Wandering hands roaming each other's bodies wasn't uncommon between you whenever you got the chance, but no matter how much he touched you, you couldn't help but flinch and gasp into his mouth as he cupped your clothed mound.

"Eren," you pause to take a deep breathe as another moan threatens to escape your reddened lips, "I thought you said we had somewhere to be." You joked lightly.

"Fuck that." He cursed, looking up at you with his dark piercing gaze.

'If these are what Eldian devils look like, I wouldn't mind being a sinner' you thought to yourself.

If Eren Yeager was anything, oblivious was not it. He was always attentive with everything he did. But when the lights dimmed and your legs spread for him, Eren Yeager never missed a spot. Twisting and turning, rubbing and spitting, he'd do anything and everything to hear you let out those breathy moans of his name.

Eren Yeager never had such a good ring to it.

It never took a lot of to have you screaming for him. Eren had mapped out every crevice of your body that sent you shivers, every infinity 8 that had your legs shaking since the first night. He always knew what would have you screaming out in blissful pleasure. Whether it be in pain or pleasure.

"Eren, ah," your shaky hands reach for the scarred back of his past. Nails scratching the surface and painting the once pale canvas a burning red color.

The burning of your thighs was nothing compared to the knot in your stomach that he wouldn't let snap. He massaged your thighs as they sat above his shoulders, finally lifting his head to hear your desperate whines to finish. Lips and chin coated in wetness, he grinned and went right back to work. Your mercy pleas finally reached his ears as one of his hand reached up to grab yours, his other stimulating your most sensitive area to get the exact reaction he wanted.

One that left his shirt and his sheets drenched in you. Words didn't seem to form on your tongue yet he understand everything you needed. Planting a light kiss on your clit, he gently and carefully closed your legs, bringing them back down to earth and laying down on your side.

Once your breathing returned back to normal all you could mutter was a simple, "wow." Eren smirked cockily and grabbed your cheeks, pulling you into a much softer yet passionate kiss.

"I know." not even trying to make a smart comment, you closed your eyes, preparing for your high to end and the uncomfortable feeling of stickiness that filled the sheets, your thigh and your boyfriend's face.

"You have a little something there" you pointed out, pointing to your chin.

"Mhm, really? You made a mess too, want me to clean it up?" A yes caught in your throat as you realized what he was planning and clasped your hand onto his wrist.

"Don't. We still have somewhere to be."

That smile. That damned smile that always caused you nothing but trouble. Trouble in more ways than one.

Mikasa and Armin being the first to arrive on time was never a surprise, however coming after Sasha and Connie was borderline suspicious as those two were never on time...to anything. Connie snickered at the sight of you rushing over to the bench with a piece of bread stuck in your mouth as you tried tucking your shirt into your pants.

You sat down between to Mikasa and Jean, trying your best to not sound like you had ran over here in a hurry, which you had. It was in your best interest to just act like you'd been there the whole time, especially with how meticulous Captain Levi was with scheduling and all that. So you struck up a conversation.

"Hey Mikasa, lovely weather we're having." You spoke up, Mikasa looked up from where her eyes were down casted on her lap and gave you a small smile with a hint of confusion.

"Yes, it is lovely...I guess." She mumbled as her voice trailed off.

You leaned on your arms to look next to Mikasa, "Good morning, Armin." You greeted the blonde.

"Oh, good morning. Have you been there this whole time?" Armin questioned, his answer only causing tithe two snickering twins to laugh even harder.

"No Armin, she was out having a much better morning." Connie mocked, sending Sasha into a laughing fest with a whole piece of bread still lodged in her mouth. Armin look confused but shrugged it off and went back to drawing in his sketch book, a stress reliving habit he'd picked up after that day at the sea.

You kicked Connie in the shins and smiled at his hiss of pain and dramatic leg holding, Sasha joining in on your laughs until you kicked her too. She whined and rubbed her shin.

"Hey! I didn't even say anything!" She protested and you laughed at her, not noticing Mikasa's sharp gaze on you.

"Where's Eren?" Mikasa asked

"Commander Hange asked him to stay behind to prep beforehand. Why?"

"So I can ask him to leave your fun in the bedroom, respectfully." She smirked, pointing at the hickey on your neck. Your eyes widened at Mikasa's amused expression and tried to cover the deep red and purple stain with your hand. Jean snickered from next to you, using the magazine he very clearly wasn't using to cover up his puffed cheeks preventing him from laughing.

Everyone's favorite duo however, did not get the memo as they bursted out into a fit of laughter. Their pale cheeks turning bright pink as they leaned on each other for support, nearly throwing the other off the bench. You groaned and dropped your head onto the hardwood table, drowning in embarrassment.

The scouts had always loved to tease you and Eren at any given chance. Connie and Sasha being especially guilty of this, but even Mikasa loved to poke and prod at the two of you, making jokes of her own.

Mikasa has been your best friend since childhood, her love for both you and Eren only doubled in size when the two of you officially got together when you were 15. She was there for you after every failed mission, after every argument, or even when you just needed girl talk. Even if she never seemed the most emotionally capable person, Mikasa Ackerman was never wrong. She's somebody everybody could rely on, whether that he for protection or just as a friend, she was always there.

Always there to buy the constantly hungry Sasha snacks as you and many other scouts arrived to Marley in disguise. While Sasha basked at the taste of new foods, your eyes roamed the crowded city, trying your best not to push anyone. Then, your eyes landed on a familiar head of hair that stood at the edge of the port, looking off into the distance.

"Hey..." you spoke up before gently sliding your hand on his shoulder, a habit you picked up on because of how guarded Eren constantly is. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." He mumbled, turning his body to face you directly and placing his hands on your shoulders, "Are you?" He questioned

"Mhm. This person dressed up as a clown mistook Captain Levi for a child and I think he actually might've traumatized the man." You joked, laughing at the past occurrence.

Although he didn't laugh, Eren smiled at your happiness, mentally taking a picture of this moment to hold onto later on.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing?" Levi interrogated, snatching the arm of a young boy who stood beside a clueless Sasha. You and Eren made your way through the commotion of people spewing out hateful words at the boy as they tried to figure out a brutal punishment for the child.

Sasha laughed nervously and lied for him, claiming he was just her younger sibling messing around, narrowly avoiding having the child nearly killed for his crime. The boy apologized profusely and thanked them for saving him from impending doom before running off with his younger brother. You smiled softly at the child as he ran off before noticing your boyfriend looking at him with longing and sadness.

"Eren? Hey, what's wrong?" You asked softly, reached over to place your hand on his cheek. He blinked and shook his head.

"Nothing, let's go."

Those next days, that very child had offered you and the scouts a place to rest your heads. Providing you all food, drinks and even alcohol which only ended in disaster and Sasha hunched over a bucket puking her guts out.

In your arms that night laid a tired Eren, his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat and feeling your chest rise up and down, mentally making sure you continued to do that. And as you slept soundly, the sharp burning sensation in his nose became too much to bear, Eren's tears silently fell.

They fell for the memories, or rather the premonition of his future. His cursed future.

They fell for the child he once was. A little boy who wanted nothing more than to prove himself and to his parents that he could go beyond, that he could be free in the world he was born into. A little boy who laughed and loved with his parents, his friends, and the little girl next door who he swore to his mother he'd marry. An innocent little boy.

They fell for his friends. The only people he couldn't live without no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Not just you, Mikasa and Armin — but Connie, Sasha, Jean, Historia and even Levi and Hange. He lived everyday of his life for the sake of them, for them to live their lives as freely as possible, for them to live the life he would never be able to.

For the days like before as they all worked on building the port. Sweaty, tired and burning arms as they all hauled ass into the half built train tracks and finally got a moment to relax.

"Make a base in Marley and infiltrate it, huh?"

"Hange sure has a plan for everything. I'll be able to show down on some real Marleyan cuisine." Sasha replied, her mind already lost a sea of new foods but you smiled at her enthusiasm

"Yeah? What should I bring? It would stink to get the runs."

"Stomach medicine, toothbrush, a taste of home..." Sasha listed off

"Did you even hear Hange's plan?" Mikasa questioned

"If the world knows that we want peace, maybe something will change." Armin suggested hopefully.

"Armin, you know I love the way you think but...not everyone thinks like you. Even the Marleyans we have here are still hot headed over us just existing in the same space as them, they don't seem like very peaceful people in my opinion." You spoke up, Armin sighed and nodded as a small moment a silence waved over you all.

"If only we had more time. I've got just over five years left. We're gonna have to decide who inherits my Titan soon." Eren brought up, a new point but not one that hadn't crossed all your minds.

"I will" Mikasa attempted to step up

"Not you. We still don't know what the Ackermanns are. And won't it hurt any plans with Hizuru if you become a Titan? No, for so many reasons." Jean dismissed, Mikasa looked down sadly, feeling as though there was nothing she could do to help.

"Then who will?" She snapped, you placed you hand over hers and gave her heartwarming smile before leaning your head on her shoulder in a means to calm her down.

"Me. First of all, I'm way smarter than Eren. Instead of a suicidal maniac, you'll have a gifted leader who shows good judgement in all situations. In other words, me." He concluded in his bashful statements. "I hate getting an Eren hand-me-down but who better than me?"

"Someone that amazing we don't wanna lose in 13 years, moron." Connie cursed, you snickered and nodded.

"He's right, Jean. All those things you just said about yourself are true, which is why we need you one hundred percent human and intact for over 13 years. You're too good of a leader to lose now." you explained, Jean groaned in annoyance.

"You're aiming to be regiment leader. I'll inherit Eren's Titan. It works out good, right?"

"Connie..." Eren faltered, slightly surprised at the high and dangerous position Connie was willing to take.

"That's not good at all. You're an idiot." Sasha replied

"Eh?"

"Don't 'eh' me. We can't leave such an important role up to an idiot."

"Eh?" Connie continued, still shocked.

"Doggone it...I'll inherit it. I've got combat experience...I'm someone you can trust...By process of elimination, it's gotta be me." Sasha divulged, you lifted your head from Mikasa's shoulder and raised your hand.

"Um hello? I'm still here." You said sarcastically,

"I know but Eren's your boyfriend and I find it pretty morbid if you were forced to eat your lover for the sake of humanity so, by default, it has to be me!"

"You guys..." Eren mumbled, going unnoticed as Sasha continued her rambling.

"I dun wanna. I sure dun wanna though." Sasha trembled, the mere thought of everything Titan shifters had to go through repeating in her head on loop.

"Wait, huh? Isn't that weird?" Connie spoke up again

"What?"

"Well you know...you said an idiot's not fit for the role." Sasha raised an eyebrow at him, still confused, "You're more of an idiot than I am, so you're contradicting yourself." As Connie finished his explanation, the two exchanged Huh's and watched each other dramatically.

"Moral of the story, you're both idiots." You stood up from the hard box, "I'll inherit the Titan. Who knows maybe I'll be the first super sexy female attack Titan. Like Annie." You thought out loud

"You think Annie's Titan is hot?" Jean asked incredulously, you put one finger up and shushed him, not wanting to discuss the topic further.

"No. I don't want any of you to inherit it." Eren stated, "And especially not you." He looked at you.

"Oh come on, once you die I'll have nothing to live for. Besides, I don't wanna be old anyway." You shrugged nonchalantly, Eren shook his head.

"No! You guys are more important to me. More than anyone else. So, I want you to have long lives and..." he looked at you again, "when I die...I want you to move on—"

You cut him off with a scoff and grabbed your makeshift seat, dropping it next to his. "No, that's bullshit. I won't accept that." You protested

"So, what? You're just gonna wallow about me the rest of your life without even trying to do anything better?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm gonna do." Eren scoffed at your answer and shook his head.

"I'm serious." He snapped

"So am I! I don't wanna start a family some random person I know I'll never love. I don't want a home if it's not with you, Eren." you objected, "So, if worse comes to worst, i'll inherit your Titan." Eren sighed, already knowing he would never change your mind once it was made up.

"Bleh, keep the cute sappy stuff in the bedroom guys." Jean complained, lightening up the mood in the cart as everyone chucked lightly.

"Best get used to it, Kirstein." You swung your arm over Eren's shoulder, "I'm not leaving this Earth without my man." You said proudly, the boy blushing at your words.

My man. That's all he ever wanted to be to you. Yours. For now and forever, he didn't care if he had to trample anyone and everyone in his path, Eren would do anything to keep that title in your heart.

There was a point in time once when he thought of growing a family with you. Even though he felt he wouldn't be the best father in the world, he couldn't help but grasp at any straws that led to a happy ending with you.  Maybe in another life, he always thought to himself.

Another life where you were all free. Where all of you could be real teenagers, go to a normal high school, have normal life and live a full life. Where Ymir, Bertolt, Erwin and everybody else didn't have to die for the sake of everyone else. Where all of you could get a full nights sleep without constantly having to watch your back.

Yeah...another life sounded like bliss.

But another life is not what you had, what you had now was war.

A war none of you were prepared for. None except Eren, who proudly and happily pounded into the face of the war hammer Titan, not leaving any room for full transformations. Even as he became outnumbered with all odds against him, he was granted his final words in which he uttered a simple.

"It's now or never, Mikasa."

Unleashing all scouts in hiding as they rose up, dropping thunder spears into the Marleyan soldiers and aiding Eren in his fight. Bodies and bombs dropped left and right as Mikasa crouched down next to her best friend.

"Eren...Do you have any idea what you've done? You killed civilians, you killed children, too. You've done things that can't be undone." She pleaded with him, trying to see even a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes and yet there was none to be found.

"She's mad at you...you know that?" She tried once more, finally getting a hint of a reaction out of Eren. That reaction lasted only a millisecond and the hurt in his eyes was once again replaced with a look of dullness and lackluster of his usual bright blue ones.

He looked away, "She can be mad all she wants, it makes no difference to me. The fight isn't over." Mikasa gasped at the sight of the war hammer she'd just took down moments before standing right back up on its feet. And a constant pitter patter hit the back of her head at Eren's words.

How quickly he shoved aside your feelings and put his own before it, a rare thing Eren had never done before. But for now, your job in all this was to stay alive.

You assisted in as much combat as possible before making your way back into the airship along with the rest of the remaining scouts. Being the first to arrive on the ship meant biting your nails in anxiety as you waiting for everyone else to reach it. Armin reached down for the boy he once thought to be his best friend, pulling him up into the ship.

Just like the old days, Levi Ackerman had a couple kicks in store for Eren, not hesitating to remind him of how much he changed. Even bringing up his past in the underground and the dirty look Eren had grown into, never expecting to see it on the boy he gave up everything for. As much as it much as it hurt to see Eren being kicked around like a rag doll, you wouldn't get in the middle, especially knowing what he'd just done.

The lives he ended, the irreparable damage he had caused, it all gave Levi more than enough reason to toss him around. You, on the other hand, didn't make an effort to speak to him.

And for Eren, that was okay. If it would change anything, Eren would make you hate him for the rest of your life. If it would change anything, Eren could've saved Sasha. If it could change anything, Eren would restart everything and never invite you to play tag with him. He would steer clear from you at all costs. He would let you marry some townsman, have a couple kids and grow old inside the walls, never to be a witness of all the atrocities outside of them.

If Eren can change anything, he will make sure you stay alive. No matter who or what gets in his way, whether he has to tear down every wall or speak to Ymir Fritz her damn self, Eren Yeager will save you from death.

Eren Yeager will not leave this godforsaken earth without his woman.

[wroteclassicaly]

Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

:)

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

[mammons-tax-returns]

How would the brothers react to a very punk goth Mc like platforms and all black and just the whole shebang he’s very nice but also will throw hands (there’s not enough male Mc your doing the good work my dude)

BROTHERS REACTING TO A GOTH/PUNK MC

Perfect way to start off the new blog !! Thank you for requesting, hope this is what you had in mind <3 (and that it’s not too apparent that i’m not super well versed in punk or goth culture ACK)

I hope that you guys don’t mind some being shorter than others, I’m still getting a hang of personalities!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Lucifer is probably one of the ones that’s into the style from the very beginning.

As soon as he sees MC, his interest is clearly shown on his face.

Sometimes, he’ll drop compliments on his fashion. Depending on his reponses, he’ll start getting more apparent with just how much he enjoys seeing his outfit everyday.

GIFTS!! He’s not mammon level of stacks upon stacks of gift wrapped boxes, but he’ll certainly stop by your room every once in a while with a new accessory he saw while shopping.

MC will probably notice that he is especially keen on chokers :).

Stares discreetly, but consistently. When Lucifer invites him to listen to music in his room, he waits until MC is occupied with something like a book or the music. Then sneaks glances at him to see how his clothing moves every time he reaches over for something, or how the necklace he bought the other day glints in the light radiating off of the fireplace.

He knows that MC is nice, and grows increasingly more and more worried for his sake because of that. The exchange program is important, but his treasure perpetually adorned in black garbs is significantly more prominent in his concerns.

So when he sees MC readily defending himself against some low level demon with no hesitation? Holy fuck. He starts to panic, but there’s nothing surpressing his respect for him, as it only grows stronger.

Although, it becomes very apparent that he’d have to do something about all of his brothers’ staring at MC.

Mammon is so into it. Like... So into it.

We all know and love that our tsundere boy has a problem with getting embarrassed, but how could he NOT get flustered everytime he’s face to face with an alternative KING

At first, he actually tries to tell MC how much he appreciates his aesthetic, but fails every time. Stuttering is a difficult thing to overcome when you can barely breathe out of embarrassment.

When he finally brings himself to actually get a compliment out, it’s accompanied with his signature bashful look. Downcast gaze and shifting posture and everything.

Upon recieving a positive response to his words, he takes it as a sign that he should start doing it more often. And so... That’s exactly what he does!

Compliments upon compliments, expensive outfits and accessories finding their way into his room, MC gets it all.

He ADORES the nice personality. So really. This MC is one of the people that Mammon can’t help but get along with. Nice, can throw hands, AND IS FASHIONABLE? Now you’re speaking his language.

They definitely get called a model power couple, even if MC isn’t a model.

Will definitely mention the idea of MC doing a photoshoot with him for work, but won’t press further if he says he’s not comfortable with it.

Levi geeks out so badly

So yeah, his initial interest in MC is kickstarted by his fashion reminding him of a badass video game character, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate him for who he is!!

He actually doesn’t know whether to be sad that he doesn’t have the same amount of fashion sense or to be happy that he has MC as his best friend that does.

But after a bit of positive affirmation from MC, he’ll surely settle with the latter. (and also hope for them to become more than best friends :). )

He finds himself subconsciously posting about MC in his socials. Normally it’s filled with “Lucifer just did (blank)” but now, it’s ALL about MC. Nothing else. MC fan account.

We know that Levi draws, and so I have no doubts that he would be drawing every outfit he sees MC in.

At first, he’s only drawing faceless figures in the clothes, probably adding his own personal flair. But as time progresses and Levi gets closer to him, he starts subconsciously conpleting the figure’s appearance (hair, face, stature, etc). And before he knows it, half of his pages are filled with doodles of MC.

But if he were to ever find out that MC saw his art, RIP Leviathan 2020

And who’s to say he’s not drawing him in... Risqué outfits.

But if MC says that he doesn’t mind getting drawn, then Levi will activate cute fanboy mode again.

He’ll ask him to model outfits for him as he draws, sometimes in cosplay.

MC would just be chillin’ with him in his room, and when Levi finally looks up from his tv after finishing an anime, he’ll sometimes gasp and immediately say, “Stay right there, I HAVE to draw this!”

Although drawing wasn’t and will likely never be his favorite thing to do in comparison to video games/anime, it gives him an excuse to stare at his best friend with minimal blushing.

Satan is good at hiding his appreciation for MC’s outfits. At least, he’s good at it to everyone BUT MC.

If anyone asks, he’s indifferent about MC and his dashing looks and fashion.

But as soon as MC confronts him... Oh boy.

Red-faced, he’ll compliment his clothing on occasion, then wave it off as “something everyone does”. Which is true, but we know that it’s more than just that.

Similarly to Lucifer, he finds himself staring at him secretly. Except, I like to think that he’s less careful about it. Often MC will look up to meet his eyes, before he ducks his head back into his book, acting nonchalant.

Not a single person can convince me that he hasn’t found a stray black cat and discreetly named it after MC.

He wouldn’t hide the fact, but instead would actually bring it up at the right time. Ex: Right before some dramantic moment like before proclaiming how much MC means to him. Both as the cat and human.

The cat’s collars are decorated similarly to the clothing that MC wears! Satan is a diligent worker (especially when putting lucifer through immense stress) and a lover of arts, so he’s pays attention to little details like that.

This is Asmo we’re talking about.

He ADORES the aesthetic.

It’s not something that he himself would wear, but damn is it appealing to the eye.

Once you get him started on all the things he’d do if given the chance to dress MC up in whatever he wanted, you’ll never hear the end of it.

(^ especially when he starts talking about the undressing)

He loves a monochromatic color pallet, but every once in a while he’ll push for a pop of color in MC’s outfit for the day.

If MC wears minimal/no makeup, Asmo will constantly ask if he can use his face as a canvas for makeup experimentation while he rants about his nail tech.

Asmo’s favorite activity is going through MC’s closet. He gets to not only try things on, but he also gets to know what he has to work with when choosing MC’s outfits for their days out together.

Knows the perfect boutiques to bring him to

“You know, the color black really accentuates your figure... And if you look this good with it on, I wonder how great you look with it off~”

Beel isn’t interested in fashion or anything related to it. He isn’t picky about the presentation of things (namely; food.)

So he wouldn’t be immediately enticed upon first meeting MC.

But that is not to say that he doesn’t find him VERY pleasing to the eye.

Our sweet boy is not afraid to express his love for those boots!! For the destressed fabrics!! He hangs around him often just so he can sit and ogle at how cool MC looks!! All the damn time!!

Asks MC to come with him to work out just so he could have some motivation by seeing him. And his GAMES. He’s gonna love to see him cheering him on in the stands.

Beel would admit that he himself couldn’t bring himself to care so much about his clothes or ‘aesthetic’ , and couldn’t imagine having such a consistent style.

^ And because of that! He’s dying to see what he looks like in other styles. Of course, if he doesn’t want to change out of the usual attire, just seeing him wearing beel’s huge ass jacket is enough.

Wouldn’t care to buy clothing items for him, but will most certainly stop by devildom’s no. 1 bakery, grab some sweets with that signature gothic devildom appearance and bring it back to the House of Lamentation for him. (Given that he didn’t already eat them.)

In comparison to his personality, MC’s closet isn’t very important.

Beel loves his kind nature! But he will always be there to defend him in any sort of risky situation, especially when any low level demons would like to try and take advantage of MC’s niceness.

Belphie is taken aback the first time he sees him. In the best way possible.

It’s like he just knows that he’s going to be interesting to be with just by seeing his clothing style

He actually probably assumed that MC would be very different from what he’s really like. (Like how people will assume that everyone who wears dark colors often are always sad)

But both to his surprise and not, MC is nothing but kind to him! And he’s kinda like 😳. Damn. Alright. I can get down to this.

Fashion isn’t his expertise, so he isn’t as forward with compliments. It’s mostly, “As long as I’m comfortable when I lay on you, the clothes are fine. Right?”

“I had a dream about you last night... It was like you were some prince clad in black chain mail armor... I suppose we couldn’t make that a reality though, huh? You can be my prince in band tees and ripped jeans.”

The only reason he starts dressing similarly to MC is because of how many times he’ll fall asleep beside him. He knows MC will probably offer one of his jackets or extra shirts, and that he’ll likely get to keep it. (He gives it back eventually, it’s just nice sentiment.)

It’s also kind of entertaining to see some of his brothers go ballistic in response to seeing him adorned in MC’s signature clothes.

[magicalgirlfan666]

Alfea's Magical Girl Fairy School (Winx Club Reader Insert)

Chapter 1: First Day & Dormmates

This Winx Club Fanfic was brought to you by DragonStar sponsored by Winxwasmychildhood.org which was made possible by viewers like you enjoy 

Fair warning: not everything that's going to go down in this will be from the tv series since I like doing my own thing with fanfics that I write so just so you don't get confused I placed this here as a heads up. Now you know.

P.S this is a reader insert that means you are the Main Character of the story.

______: First name

(I will be giving you an eye color I hope that you don't mind ^^')

(h/c) Hair color

(Same with skin color again I hope you won't mind)

I will be giving you the last name this time.   

_______________________

Finally, I have now come of age to attend Alfea, it was something that I have been looking forward to going. In hopes of improving upon my magical powers and gaining what I need to be a good queen to my people. My Mother and Father also warn me to not only study but to be on look out for any royalty students attending as well so that I may make good relationships with them to help further prosper our kingdom.

But to only seek out royalty anything other than studying and bettering myself is unnecessary thus deserving no further attention, and I had no plans on going against it for nothing else piques my interest.

For I was taught to have nothing else to gain my interest other than my kingdom: Frozonia, if it prospers I prosper. Anything and everything I do is for it and it alone. No desires for myself no wants or needs for myself other than the want and need for a glorious kingdom.

It didn't take long for me to arrive to Alfea, there were a bunch of other girls at the front waiting for Griselda to finishing verifying if rather or not they belonged here. One girl was having a bit of trouble since Griselda was having trouble finding her name on the list and it wasn't til the girl told the older woman how her name was spelled did she finally spot the name and allowed her access.

The red head in front of me appeared to be worried as the two whispered about something, I saw the blonde female rip apart a letter for a reason unknown to me before approaching Griselda.

"Hello Ms. G this is Princess Varanda the princess of Callisto" I glanced to the redhead who was acting funny, I found it odd about how she was acting when being introduced but wrote it off as none of my concern, Griselda argued over the blonde who's name I now learned was Stella, return to Alfea especially after what she did to their science class to which Stella replied on how her parents did pay for some of the school's new stuff.

I was getting a bit annoyed at having to wait for the pair to finish their chit-chat, have preferred that they have this kind of personal chat when she doesn't have to allow access to a bunch of girls waiting to get in but since I have been taught to keep these sort of things in check so I knew not to voice this. 

Though I was also taught to offer my honest thoughts and opinions and to be blunt a queen as no time for beating around the bush since I was not asked there was no need. My people though blunt and truthful with what we say, we tend to be a silent and quiet bunch only speaking when spoken too or when necessary.

 I didn't deem now necessary, finally, they finished and I was finally next. "Name?"

"_____ Frosthart Princess of planet Crystria" I answered with a stoic face and a voice void of any emotion. 

"Ah yes I see your name right here, go right ahead" I wasted no time walking through the gates and into Alfea, soon the head mistress Faragonda showed up and give a big speech before we were allowed to go inside when she finished. I quickly located my room and it appears two of my dormmates where already here.

One was a orange-blonde hair girl with a bob-cut hairstyle and hazel eyes, the other a fair-skinned girl with long, chest length brown hair with neatly brushed bangs above her eyes, while she has a strand or two hang over her shoulders with sea blue eyes. Both girls appeared friendly enough as they greeted me.

"Hi I'm Amaryl and this is my friend Francine" The two offered a kind and friendly smiles as they stuck their hands out for me to shake. I stared for a brief second before accepting their kind gesture.

"So would you happen to be Looma or ______?" Francine asked, before I could respond another voice spoke up. All three of us turned to the entrance of the room where the voice originated from.

Standing there a was brown hair, green eyes girl with her hair styled into a tight bun and two braids in the front. Her eyes shone bright with kindness and excitement. "Hello" She greeted kindly, placing her right hand on her chest. "I'm Looma and it would seem that from now and we will be dormmates" 

"Ah so then that would make you _______" Francine said before returning Looma's greetings, as they started to converse I went to my room and used my magic to unpack everything. It wasn't long before Looma walked in still smiling.

"Looks like you already picked your side of the room" She said as she walked over to the other side and did the same as me with her magic as she unpacked I noticed she had a lot more clothes than I so it was safe to assume that she was really into clothing and fashion. She also had a few other things to make her own clothing.

"You weren't there when I told the others but if you ever need any clothing or some specially made feel free to ask all I need are some cool stuff to make them out of or if you want just buy some off me, it's really no trouble since I'm always making more than I really need" She gave an awkward laugh when addressing her lack of self-control on making clothing.

I don't really think that I will be needing any clothing specially made from her or to purchase any off her anytime soon but did make sure to keep note of it just in case. You never know when this knowledge might come in handy.

I nodded to let her know that it was acknowledged, she smiled in returned and started going over to the desk she unpacked and got to designing something that I can only assume was clothing.

I didn't have anything planned so I just sat down on my bed reading as my roommate hummed while drawing which I didn't mind since I would only tune it out once I get adsorbed onto the book.  And in no time at all I was soon lost into a land of my own.

That is until a rabbit came out of nowhere and hopped right onto my book and soon a girl's voice shouted out a name that wasn't mine or any of my dormmates. 

"Kiko!" She came rushing in and stopped once her blue orbs landed on the gray little bunny who was smiling sheepishly, they soon turned to me as she took notice that he was standing on my book. 

"I'm so sorry, I don't know why he went running off like that" She appeared to be genuinely sorry for her rabbit's actions as she stared into my icy blue eyes. 

I looked at her for a bit before turning my gaze to her rabbit and picking him up, the moment my hands made contact with his tiny little body he started to shiver but it wouldn't last too long since he would soon be in his master's hands as I handed him over. 

"It is fine any damage done I can easily fix but do try to be careful next time" She nodded as she took the little bunny in her hand's as he immediately started to warm up.

"Right it won't" She nodded as I returned to my book. She got the hint that I didn't wish to speak anymore and soon left as I picked up where I unwillingly left off. 

I finally reached the end of my book and was left wondering why did the main character make such a choice? Why did they choose to abandon their kingdom for someone else? It didn't make sense, no matter how many times I read books like this I could never figure it out. 

Since the day I was born I was told that the kingdom and the people's welfare were to be placed above all else which means doing whatever was necessary to make sure that our kingdom was prospering. 

So for her to make such a decision only leads to one thing for me to believe since it was the only thing that made sense, her tutors didn't educate her well enough at all, I just hope that other kingdoms in this story learn from this and never hire that person again.

I sighed as I placed my book onto the stand next to me and soon realizing that it was now night time, I must have missed lunch.... I look over to check on Looma and she was still drawing, I get up to tap her on the shoulder which startled her.

"Oh it's you, sorry you kind of scar-" Her eyes glanced around the room before landing back on me. "Um.. is it night time?" I nodded.

"Darn that means I miss lunch" She pouted before looking to me again. "Why didn't you say anything?" I pointed to my book.

"After finishing my book I was only now made aware" She looked over at my stand(no that's not a jojo reference) before nodding and then smiling. 

"I guess that means we are sort of alike only we get far too absorbed in different things" She giggled before yawning. "Well not that it matters now I'm far too tired to eat anyway" She stood from her seat heading over to her bed.

"I'm going to head off to bed, night" She hopped into the bed pulling the sheets over her as I soon deiced to do the same as well.

Closing my eyes I soon drifted to sleep, one that was dreamless as usual for me they normally were anyway. It happens so often that I can't remember if I ever had dreams before or maybe I just simply can't remember them... whatever the case it doesn't really matter all that much anyway.....   

___________

Okay so, this has already been posted on my watt pad and quotev, and is how it will be staying, the next parts will be drafts and possible outcomes

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

[im-just-a-random-fandom-girl]

Snippet:

Pairings: Bucky/Original Female Character; Bucky/Steve

A/N: Ok, I’m finally posting a snippet of the fic I’m writing. I’m really happy with how this snippet turned out, and considering my writing track record (i.e. losing motivation and never finishing) I figured sharing it might be a good way to generate the excitement I need to follow through. I am extremely grateful to @its-tortle for double checking my writing, and whose supportive comments and lovely feedback really bolstered my confidence to post this. 

29 September, 1940

Steve lounges lazily on the couch in the amber glow of the side table lamp with his head against the arm rest and his legs propped up. The apartment is quiet except for the soft scratch of pencil against paper as he carefully sketches Bucky’s lips, trying to get the corners curved up just so. 

Bucky’s mouth is a nightmare to draw, but Steve’s dreams are consumed by it. How his lips purse slowly around his cigarette when he takes a long drag. How the right side twitches up when he smirks. Imagining the feeling of his lips pressing softly against Steve’s own, and the beginning of his smile as they pull away from each other.  

A sudden fumbling with the lock on the door rattles Steve out of his fantasy. He sighs and glances at the clock; it’s just after 9pm. Steve’s brow furrows and he slides his feet off the couch, sitting up. It was too early for Bucky to be back. He’d taken his girl Louise out for dinner and dancing at 7, and Steve knew, from when Bucky would drag him along for yet another unbearable double date, that the two of them could dance for hours before finally wandering back to Louise’s apartment, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear. 

But when the door swings open, Bucky shuffles into their tiny apartment. Although Steve would never admit it out loud, his heart skips a beat. He knows this routine. Sure, Louise had lasted longer than the rest, and Steve was surprised Bucky had even drawn it out, but this happened like clockwork. 

Every couple months, Bucky would stumble home early from one of his dates, and Steve would know just from the sight of him that his latest gal had decided to end their little fling. 

To anyone else, Bucky looks almost exactly the same as he normally does coming home from any date, but Steve notices each minute difference.

His normally slicked-back hair would be tousled from running his calloused fingers through it while he sat alone at the bar. Instead of swollen, pink lips, his cheeks would be flushed from having too many drinks. An eventful date would leave him with rumpled clothes, pants hanging low on his hips thanks to a slightly-too-loose belt. On these nights, he appears nearly just as crisp as when he’d left, only the top few buttons of his shirt undone.

More than anything, Bucky would be somber, his usually bright spirit and charming confidence replaced with dismal uncertainty. Steve would usually hear a soft shuffling outside the door, and when Bucky had finally mustered up the confidence to come inside, he did so with his shoulders slack and head tilted down. As if Steve would be ashamed of him.

God, he couldn’t be further from the truth. Steve knows he should want Bucky to find a steady girl to make him happy, but he can’t help but look forward to these nights. 

The first few times Bucky was dumped, Steve hadn’t known what to do. He’d pushed down the aching desire to rub Bucky’s back until he fell asleep and press soft kisses to his broad shoulders, opting to simply guide Bucky to his bed with a glass of water for the morning. The fourth time, as Steve stood up to go back to the kitchen, Bucky’s calloused hand grabbed his wrist.

“Stay,” he’d slurred, “please.” Looking down into clouded blue eyes, Steve was helpless to resist. Stripping off his clothes, he crawled in behind Bucky and pulled him flush against his chest. In an instant, he felt Bucky’s muscles release their tension as they both fell into a deep sleep.

Since that night, it had become a ritual. Each time Bucky stumbled inside, Steve would crack a joke, or show Bucky his latest sketch, desperate to be the reason his deep blue eyes twinkled again, before eventually taking him by the hand and leading them both to bed. Curled up behind Bucky, Steve would allow himself to imagine that Bucky returned the feelings he always felt bubbling beneath his skin, and that they fell asleep like this every night, wrapped up together, legs tangled and hearts beating softly for each other. 

Bucky is always a sight, but seeing him like this -- loose and soft and vulnerable -- never fails to make Steve’s heart pang.

From his place on the couch, Steve longs to stare, to go up and press himself against Bucky’s chest, run his fingers through his dark locks and tug him down, crashing their lips together. Instead, he only allows himself the slightest glance and follows the routine.

“Finally decided to dump your ugly mug, did she? I’m impressed, Buck. It took her 5 months to figure out what a pain--”

“Lou is pregnant.”

Steve snaps his head up, jaw slack.

The apartment is suddenly too loud. He can hear his blood pulsing in his ears, and his head is full of static, only Bucky’s echoing words cutting through. 

[thestrangeprophet-blog]

The Muse and the Soldier

The Muse and the Soldier

·       f/reader x Levi Ackerman  

·       No NSFW

·       HC storyline

·       I do not own the rights to any of the characters

·       PLS support the actual Attack on Titan anime

 You open your eyes and take pleasure in the feel of the morning breeze coming from the window. Breathing in the air which carried the aroma of those special blue flowers potted downstairs in front of your tea shop. Seems you have left all your pencils across the desk and the drawings plastered to the walls from the night before had fallen again. You pick up the drawings and admire the one yet to be finished. It is of a regular customer you normally see when they come back from a scouting mission. Piercing grey eyes in contrast to his fancy dark undercut. Levi Ackerman. You always wonder how he has the time and will to keep up with his hair. After laying his portrait neatly on your desk, you ready yourself for another day brewing the finest tea you can in hopes of seeing Levi for another bout of his favorite tea.

The Captain and Commander Erwin were frequent visitors to your tea shop because Levi had always recommended it. For one reason or another, the tea you brewed satisfied him beyond what he would brew himself with what he had. Erwin had thought the same as well and it brought you enjoy your tea could be held to such standards. As a fellow tea lover, the subject of tea was never a boring conversation with Levi, no matter how short or blunt it was with him. Sure, most people see it as something more along the lines of hot leaf juice. It’s more than that and Levi understood it though it went unspoken.

Captain Levi came alone today and took his usual seat. It was rather unusual but you carry on and bring his favorite. The teapot whistles and steams like Titan smoke with the lingering scent of black tea that trails through the wind. As you set his cup in front of him and pour his tea, you notice he seems lost further in thought than normal. You finish pouring his tea and hesitantly ask if there is anything else you can do for him. He takes a second to come back to this moment and raises his head ever so slightly. His hair still covering those captivating grey eyes. Releasing an exhausted breath, he asks of one thing of you.

Levi: I- If it’s no trouble to you… will you sit with me Y/N? Even just for a moment?

Y/N: That’s a bit of an odd request, Captain. I’m surprised you even remembered my name. But sure! Anything for my best customer.

Levi: You don’t have to address me as Captain. J-just Levi will do… and thank you.

You sit in the chair across from Levi where Erwin is normally seated discussing the next expedition and plans you have for Eren and the cadets of the 104th Cadet Corps. As of in this moment, this is simply two human beings sitting together enjoying tea. Just sounds of the breeze against your ears and the softened sips coming from across the table at the lips of the man before you. Levi’s cheeks are flushed with a gorgeous rosy blush. It seems he wants to start a conversation but has no idea where to start. Its adorable how a man with a reputation for being such stone cold badass could be flustered over tea. You strike a smile in his direction and find your own way to start a conversation he could initiate. Call it encouragement if you will. The sketchpad and pencil you keep handy finally get put to use. The pencil scratching against the paper caught Levi’s attention though he kept to his tea. He watched as he appeared on the paper before him in awe.

           Levi: Hey Y/N, is that supposed to be me?

Y/N: Oh, uh yeah haha! I figured you weren’t much in the mood to talk so I didn’t want to bother you while you were enjoying your tea.

Levi: You are a woman of many talents I see.

Y/N: I wouldn’t say that much.

Levi: N-nonsense. I come here to enjoy the tea you brew perfectly and the singing you think I can’t hear. Didn’t know you were so skilled with a pencil as well.

Y/N: I usually never have the time to draw during the day Levi.

Levi: Can I request something? I’ll pay for it.

Y/N: No need to pay me. What can I do for you?

Levi: I need you to draw someone for me. I don’t really know them too well, but they have a face I could never forget.

Y/N: Oh I wonder who this special person is! Could you describe them for me?

Levi: Well, they’re around the same height as me maybe a bit taller. They have long black curly hair that glistened as though it was a fire at sunset. Brown eyes like fresh honey in the morning and glistened with a hopeful shine I envy. They wear some rather dark clothing year round even when its hot outside. Their nose is slightly hooked and cheeks soft and red. Their lips glistened and they look soft to the touch. And even though they don’t think it looks very nice, they have a scar across their left eyebrow. I’m not exactly sure how they got, but they always try to cover it behind their hair yet it still finds a way to see the light. Their jawline is soft and looks like it could rest perfectly in the cups of your hands.

Y/N: Wow Levi, I didn’t realize you had a way with words.

As the form you forge is refined from guidelines to distinctive features, the person he is describing truly is a sight to behold. You may not have the colors to use but you understand the value of what those colors are which are just as powerful. Levi sits across from you amazed at your skill for a second time until you’ve finished your work. You hand him the final sketch and you already know he just asked you to draw yourself but play it off. He takes the drawing into his hand and holds it up so you and the drawing are in view with each other.

Levi: As beautiful on paper as you are in person. Tsk, your hands are even a work of art on their own.

Y/N: If I may say I’m rather flattered you’d ask me to draw myself just for you but you aren’t very good at making your flirtations subtle. Unless you weren’t trying to be subtle in the first place.

Levi: Oi its not my fault you decided to pull a journal out of nowhere while we’re drinking tea together!

Y/N: You are one hundred percent correct Levi. Really for a man who exudes such confidence, I’ve never seen you even stutter let alone get flustered over tea. Its cute.

Levi blushes even more and looks away trying to play it off. He already knows you’ve got at least one finger wrapped around him. No one really talks to him like that besides this Hange person he mentions. They sound like an interesting character from the way he describes them. You would love to meet them one day when they aren’t experimenting on Titans. For now, your gaze remains fixed on Levi’s profile as he tries to regain his composure. You would not have assumed he was even interested in such trivial things other than being a clean freak.

You are aware of Levi’s reputation but just getting to sit with him in such an intimate setting gives you a next level view of him. The clean undercut and soft flowing hair was just asking to have someone’s fingers run through it and embrace the feeling of each strand even if it meant making his hair just a little messy. Each group of strands followed the path of the wind as leaves blew from the vines. His jawline was as sharp as the blades he carried to cut down titans like butter. His hands, though they bore the weight his fallen comrades and the destined purpose to eliminate and survive, seemed delicate under the rough calluses of combat. But his eyes. Those damn grey eyes. They pierced right through me whenever you got the chance to see them yourself. All of the things they saw, and the feelings kept behind them like a locked door. There is so much pain rage behind those you wonder when the last time Levi got to see something outside the realm of horror outside and within the walls.

           Y/N: Levi?

           Levi: Yeah Y/N?

Y/N: When was the last time you’ve ever had a chance to relax and just lay low for awhile?

Levi: Can’t say. I don’t think I’ve given myself a damn break but I can’t afford to. I don’t exactly have anything else to do.

Y/N: Hmmm. Let’s change that. Make sure you make yourself available tomorrow at sundown. Come back to the shop and dress casual. I know somewhere we can go. I’ll even grab an extra book so you can out those hands to work other than killing Titans and jotting down whatever it is you do write for your paperwork.

Levi: B-but I c-can’t just abandon my po-

Y/N: Shush. In case you haven’t noticed you don’t have any missions scheduled for at least another week. Plus business around here is slow. We could both use a little time for ourselves. Even if its just a moment.

Levi: *blushing even more* uh- ok. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. You didn’t have to act like such a brat about it.

Y/N: If you weren’t Levi I would throw this lukewarm teapot of tea all over you

Levi: *Smiling ever so slightly* hmp I uh… I guess I could see you doing something like that. Okay, I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up. I’m curious as to where this place is anyway.

Y/N: Alrighty then it’s a date! No ifs ands or buts. You got that Levi?

Levi: Loud and clear.

You’re leaning over the table to make sure Levi knows where he needs to be. You’re close enough to him you can smell the scent of the tea you made him mixed with just the scent of him. You’d kiss him right then and there if you really wanted to. Looks like he had the same idea but you pull away because you weren’t in that much of a rush. His lips were parted as they awaited your lips to meet his. It was thrilling seeing him even a little desperate for you but making him wait was even better. As much as Levi felt he couldn’t abandon his post, he couldn’t say no to you. He’d been working up the courage to talk to you for as long as he has been coming to your shop. Though he wasn’t the one to ask, Levi appreciated that you were the one to take the lead in making plans to accompany each other on a date. You’d been waiting for the opportunity to even be in this position. Now that it’s here, you make plans to make the date an enjoyable one that Levi would also like. Good first impressions are still pretty important. Especially if you want to make a good impression for Levi.

           Levi: Tsk, its almost sundown. Id better get back to the brats at HQ.

You grab his hands and ask him to wait just a little while longer.

Y/N:  Well if you’re going to be leaving, at least let me give you some extra tea and a meal to take back with you. It’s the least I can do for agreeing to going on a date with me on such short notice.

Levi: Tsk make it quick please.

Y/N: Don’t rush me. I’m being nice to you. I usually don’t just give out free tea and meals to anyone you know.

Levi: I’m sorry. Thank you. I- I uh really appreciate your generosity.

You hand Levi the tea and meal you made just for him. You touch hands for a moment and get goosebumps for the first time in a long time. You blush just enough that Levi notices as well and gives a small smirk. You exchange that smirk with one of your own.

           Levi: Thank you again Y/N. I guess I’ll see you soon.

           Y/N: You guess?

           Levi: I will see you soon.

Y/N: Much better. And by the way, you have a very charming smile. I wish I could see it more often. It suits you almost as much as that cold gaze you’ve always got equipped.

Levi: I never really gave it much thought what that looked like. I’ll pick you tomorrow. I promise.

Y/N: You’d better if you know what’s good for ya hahaha! I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.

END

Comment if you’d like a Pt. 2!

[miss-choco-chips]

From Baby to Babe~

I once wrote this  https://miss-choco-chips.tumblr.com/post/190983954737/theres-a-point-in-all-the-rouges-gallerys-lives and @theturdis wanted a fic about it, so... Just remember, you asked for this hon. This ain’t my fault.

Tagging @animemangasoul who just told me to tag them the next time I wrote something. 

Fair warning everyone, I somehow did this in one sitting, and, I can’t stress this enough, there’s no edit whatsoever. Like, none. Enjoy, if you can ignore the eyesore of my multiple mistakes.

----.----

Bruce despairs in the knowledge of his sons growing up hot.

---.---

When Dick came back to Gotham as the new Nightwing for the first time ever… well. 

Bruce didn't like to think about the first suit, back then. All those feathers and glitter, the plunging V neck, the mullet… His son had insisted on it being the trend at the time. Bruce just couldn't grasp how was he supposed to blend into the night and take anyone by surprise. There was too much... everything, and not nearly enough stealth.

He was an innocent man, back then. He looked at a horse gift in the mouth and was completely blindsided when it raised on it’s hind legs and kicked him where it hurted.

When Selina approached him a few weeks after N had come to him with the blueprints of his new suit, he had been quiet relaxed. Or as relaxed as one can be when crouched like a gargoyle and looking over the city. He was just getting back on track after… Jason (it still hurted, and probably always would, to think about him), his new partner helping in ways he couldn’t foresee, violence tampered by Tim’s brilliant smile every time he came to Bruce with the answer to a particularly difficult riddle he had been having trouble with. He had to get his act together, because Tim was so bright, mind so beyond what Bruce could ever aspire to, and he was at such an impressionable age… If Batman allowed himself to fall deeper into despair, he would set a dangerously bad example to the kid, which could be really damaging… to the world at large. He was the kind of kid that B wanted on the side of Justice, because the opposite would be quite catastrophic.

So yes, he had been very distracted lately, merely glancing over Dick’s blueprints, noticing the lack of brilliantine and gold, and giving his wholehearted approval. 

Stupid, innocent man he was. He had needed Catwoman of all people to open his eyes.

(To this day, he still wondered about Alfred’s reason for not warning him sooner. Perhaps, and this was the theory he had running, the old butler had been just so delighted at seeing the Disco suit gone, he would approve almost everything in its place, and Dick’s virtue had never been his responsibility to preserve, so to hell with it.

Betrayal always hurted the worse when it came from those closest to you)

-Hey handsome.

-Cat.

She rolled her eyes, already beyond his brood, and just walked out of the light, joining him into the shadows with a sigh at his dramatics. 

-No theft today?

The woman grimaced a bit, letting herself fall at his side with as much grace as she did everything else. Diamond claws scratched at her scalp, carefully not tearing the frail skin, and Batman finally conceded and turned his head to look at her directly. She was never so hesitant.

-Look. I really, really don’t want to be the one telling you this. I would literally rather leave this to anyone else, but… it’s getting out of hand.

-What is it?

-Nightwing. Hadn’t you noticed anything about him?

That got whatever rest of his attention she hadn’t already caught. Speaking of his sons always had that effect on him.

-What happened to him?

-Nothing, just… He’s been out a lot, hasn’t he? I thought he didn’t operate in the city as much…

She was stalling, which was worryingly out of character for Selina. But since this was about Nightwing, he had to be patient and let her talk her way into whatever information she was going to lay on him.

-I’ve been… -training a new Robin, not that he could tell her that- busy, lately. He’s picking up the slack while I’m focusing on it -a.k.a helping him both patrol the streets and teach Tim. 

-I noticed the changes, yes, whatever therapy you’re doing is great for you -she encouraged, more honest than he thought her capable of. He could already see her deadpan when she figured out the reason for his change, his ‘therapy’ as she put it, was an eleven year old thrusting himself at this dangerous life of his.

-Hm.

-Well… Anything noteworthy about him lately? Crime Fighting related?

Since she was stressing the words so much, he gave them deep thought.

-He has been on a streak lately. A lot more arrests… What’s your point?

He could almost see the second she internally said ‘fuck it’ and just blurted everything out.

-That’s because his new suit is, and this is coming from me, B, indecent, and every criminal out there is focusing more on his ass than his punches and flips so he’s kicking ass easier.

Bruce kicked his way to the forefront of his mind, the father in him hip checking the vigilante out of the way so he could properly freak out.

What? He knew the suit was a lot more tight than the former one, but he’d been so relieved at it being mostly black he hadn’t given more than a cursory look… and he barely saw the man in it, often training together in workout clothes and coming and going to patrol at different times. He… wasn’t prepared for this.

-Excuse me?

-I’m sorry, someone had to tell you. Normally, I’d be completely on board with a suit change from boring to daring, and you know of my good relationship with leather, but I’ve literally seen that kid grow up. If I have to listen to Harley talking about Nightwing’s ass one more time, Ivy won’t need to worry any more about the Joker killing her, because I will do it myself.

He wanted to thank her for standing up for his son, but he was still busy internally screaming.

-You want to hear Riddle’s last work? While looking directly at N, he asked ‘is buttcheeks one word? Or should I spread them?’. And then he winked. Winked, B. At your eighteen year old kid. You need to get your ass on gear and make sure Nighting changes his. I mean, I’m getting used to it, but you’ve been doing great lately, violent wise, and I’d hate for you to relapse because you heard Zsaasz asking N to tie his ropes tighter and harder.

B… needed to go back to the cave and call N back early. They had to talk.

----.----

When Jason came back, the first thing to break past the ‘holy shit my son is alive’ wall surrounding his brain was just how tall he had grown. How strong, how broad, how big. The little boy he had picked up from the street, underfeed and hurting everywhere, had turned out almost bigger than B himself and twice as brave. The wave of pride he felt was massive, but the feeling was short lived. 

Jason was killing criminals, had even attempted to murder Tim. Even if the father in him could, in his desperation, try and overlook the first bit, the same side couldn’t get past the second. Tim was as much his as Jason, and he couldn't turn a blind eye to it.

The relief of him being back that overflowed from Bruce clashed horribly with Batman’s unbending morals, and the two sides warred for days for control. The attack on his youngest son had been the deciding factor in who finally won; Bruce couldn’t fight the darkness in him when he needed it to help protect Robin from his predecessor, as much as it pained him.

Theirs was a long road, a difficult path to come back together as a family after so many mistakes on both parts (more his than Jason’s, he knew, but admitting so was so hard…), but they had finally, finally came back together. All his children, sitting around the dinning table at the manor, throwing food at each other behind Alfred’s back, Dick failing to give Jason a noogie, Tim succeeding in elbowing his way past both of them to claim first picks over the brownies, Damian rolling his eyes while sneakily drawing in his notebook what B suspected was a portrait of the three of them, Cass and Steph laughing at their antics… His heart felt like it could give out.

Again, his mind was anywhere but in… that. Already used to the dirty looks aimed at Nighting, he focused his anger into strength behind every punch, taking care to kick specially hard when aiming at the criminal’s genitals as light punishment for the lust they aimed at his oldest, but not longer trying to essentially castrate them.

He had the hang of it, and it was just one child. He could do damage control with one, it wasn’t that hard. Stephanie wasn’t really his, just under his protection as a mentor, and even then, she was mostly Barbara’s; Cass could and would take care of anyone who dared look at her in a way she didn’t like, so she was also good. Seventeen year old Tim and thirteen year old Damian were babies, so they wouldn't be an issue for a long, long time.

And then. And then, Steph had opened her mouth.

-Why can’t Tim do this? -she had whined, raising the heels to eye level and studying them with profound distaste- I hate fighting on these. He’s much better than me at that anyway, and he makes a hotter chick than I when he goes full out on his undercover gig.

Red Robin, who was walking past her on his way to the training mats, high fived her.

Barbara’s voice came from the Batcomputer, Oracle’s voice filter not needed while they still were on the Cave.

-Because he and Jason can’t act like a couple for more than two hours before one of them breaks into hives or laughter, and this is an all night long gig. 

-Then why can’t Tim and Dick go? You just need a girl as pretty arm candy distaction, the guy is the one who’s gonna do the work, and Nightwing can take care of a few drug dealers himself.

-While Dick is certainly pretty enough to gain permission to enter this very private party -the man, stretching with Tim, stopped mid motion to give the computer finger guns. Barbara coughed to cover a laugh and kept going-, the goal is for him to be invited into the boss’s personal office, and we can only do that if he’s interested in what he sees. From what Tim gathered for me on his last recon, he favours… Jason’s body types more than Dick’s.

Bruce, who was just getting out of the locker room, suit fully in place except from the cowl, raised an eyebrow at that, stopping to analyze his second oldest. Tilting his head, and still as confused, he asked what would undoubtedly bring him an unhealthy amount of regret in the very near future.

-What does that mean? Jason’s...body type? You mean tall? Dick is also pretty tall.

There was total silence in the cave for a few moments. Dick and Tim got up from their positions, shared a look, and made a run for the showers, claiming they were ready for patrol (they weren’t, not warmed up enough, but he had other things to focus on now). Damian, already fully suited, tutted and dragged the hood of his cape over his face, almost completely covering it. Cass looked on impassively, and Stephanie seemed to be getting a worryingly amount of glee from whatever this was.

Jason himself was… blushing? What?

-Who’s gonna tell him? -finally asked Barbara, amusement breaking her professional facade.

-Oh, me, me! Let me do this!

Apparently still a naive man, he nodded at the blonde, ready for someone to clear this up for him.

He was regaled with a half an hour long rant about biceps, pecs, and thighs that could compete against tree trunks and win. It was supported by apparent citations from different criminals that ranged from appreciative to full on scandalous.

In the end, everyone left the cave, Batgirl with a notorious spring on her step, and Bruce had to stay home instead of going out, needing the night to fully process about his second son, almost twenty one but twelve in his mind’s eye, apparently featuring in multiple Arkham calendars. 

He came out of that realization a scarred man, to say the least.

-----.-----

It was barely a few months after his traumatic chat with Stephanie when it happened again. He’d like to say he was ready for this.

He wasn’t.

When Conner Kent found him, he was completely focused on his WE’s work. For once on the office, with the TV providing some white noise in the background, he was fully prepared for a day catching up. He couldn’t keep letting Tim take over most of the work, the kid deserved to have a normal (or as normal as any of them could achieve) teenage life.

He was of course notified the moment the meta breached the city’s limits, but figured he was here on Titan’s business or hanging out with Tim. The light knock on his office window was a big surprise.

-This is unexpected, Conner. What can I do for you? -he greeted after letting him in- Tim isn’t here today, he’s giving a press conference.

-Yeah, I know. I’m actually here for you. We, the team, heard from Tim you’re making the blueprints for his next suit.

This conversation was already going in a very confusing way. Why did they care about Tim’s gear?

-Yes?

-Well, you need to double check with us before you show anything to him -something akin to indignant surprise must have shown in his face, because the meta quickly raised both hands-. We don’t mean that as you needing our approval, of course you’d know better how to keep a non-meta well protected. We know jackshit about kevlar and armor. But it’s the… style, that has us worried.

He let the anger bleed out of him, replaced with puzzlement.

-What do you mean?

Conner looked down, as if gathering strength, then up and straight into Bruce’s eyes, a feat very few younger heroes could achieve. This was serious.

-Tim isn’t big like Jason, or as… stretchy as Dick, but he has… very, very attractive features. I won’t go into detail with you about how thin his waist is, how shapely his legs or cute his ass. That’s not something I need to say or you to hear.

Yes, it definitely wasn’t. Bruce was having an inkling as to where this was headed, and he didn’t like it. Tim was a baby! Barely eighteen and so damn small!

-But I do need to tell you, his ugly ass suits have been good at keeping that all on the downlow. We made fun of him for them, sure, but never encouraged him to change, because we know what will happen if he does. It would be awful. You think Nightwing and Red Hood have it rough? Tim has Ra’s Al Ghul’s undivided attention and appreciation. If we add attraction to it? Mayhem. Absolute mayhem. We can barely keep him from being kidnapped by older, nasty villains as it is. We don’t need the extra work, sir. I’m begging you on behalf of the team, don’t let him get anything that would look good on him. Like that Untranet suit he told me about, for example. That one would be so bad. Or the Red Robin one with tighter pants and a domino under the cowl so he can take it out and flash the world his luscious hair. 

Bruce fell back into his desk chair. Elbows resting on the table, he buried his face into his hands.

A long silence filled the room.

-You already approved and made one of those, right?

A small, shaky nod.

-...The Ultranet one?

A firm shake. 

-Fuck me. The Red Robin with tighter pants and domino?

Another nod. Conner sat abruptly on the empty chair in the other side of the desk, like a puppet with its strings cut.

-Well, fuck. 

Fuck indeed. 

Bruce despaired.

----.----

This time, he would be ready. He swore it on his honor, on his oath, on his parents.

So when Damian turned sixteen, growth spurt kicking in (he towed over Tim, and it wouldn’t be long until he left Dick in the dust as well), he made a thought but necessary call.

He phoned Talia.

-We need to talk. About Damian, and… sex appeal.

Her shock was evident even through the phone.

-Excuse me? My son is a child. He has no such thing.

He closed his eyes. Once, a long time ago, he’d been just as naive. Now he knew better. 

It was a hard lesson to learn, but she needed to. And quickly. Damian was growing faster than his other children. Time was of essence.

-Let me tell you what I wish I knew years ago, when Dick decided to change his Nightwing suit.

She was probably going to hate him for opening her eyes like this, but Bruce just couldn't do this alone. 

He could deal with Talia’s hate, but criminals lusting after his baby son? Hell no. He might actually go rouge.

[harleyhua-archive]

it’s elle again! took me longer than I thought it would, but i’m here with the bio of my second son, harley. he’s my newest oc; i’ve had him for about a year, but i didn’t get to rp much during that time. i’m fluent in asl, so harley has a special place in my heart. usually my gifs that include him signing won’t actually match the signs up to what he’s saying, but this one does. he’s signing ‘hello, my name is....’ so it felt like an appropriate intro post.

[ chella man, genderqueer trans man, 21, he/him ] did you see who just walked in? it was that JUNIOR, the ╳ + HARDWORKING AND  - DISORGANIZED ╳  one? you know, the one who lives at SONTHENA HALL, HARLEY HUA! i heard they are majoring in ART and they can’t wait to get out of here to BECOME AN ILLUSTRATOR.  crap! stop staring, here they come!

name. harley hua hometown. detroit, mi major. art (illustration) birthday. may 27th, 2000 gender. trans man, genderqueer orientation. pansexual religion. jewish languages. english, asl, some cantonese and french hobbies. cheerleading, drawing, comic books

[ BIO ] [ tw. gender dysphoria ]

harley was born hard of hearing, although it wasn’t discovered until he was six. his audiologist discouraged his parents from teaching him sign, saying he would stop talking and stunt his language skills, so he grew up using his hearing aid and filling in the gaps with lipreading.

his yearly hearing tests showed he was gradually going deaf. he kept getting stronger hearing aids and being able to catch less and less of what was happening around him. the expectation was that he would get better at reading lips, but that only got him so far (only 30% of the English language is visible on the mouth!)

he had been a social kid, but he slowly withdrew into art. there, he could create anything he wanted. he often drew superheroes, or just ‘regular’ civilians (usually men). for a few years, harley took a sketch book and at least three graphic pencils everywhere he went.

in middle school, harley was eligible for a cochlear implant. his parents urged for him to get implanted, but decided to let him make the decision himself. he found a way to compromise with them; he agreed to get the surgery, but in exchange his parents agreed to pay for him and his brother to take ASL classes.

once activated, the implant was an immediate change. the world sounded different through it than what harley remembered, but he could understand his teachers and classmates better than he had in a very long time. he was able to join in again, and went from the kid scribbling in a notebook alone to being very outgoing. once he was able to use an ASL interpreter in classes, his confidence and grades shot up.

in high school, harley was very popular. it didn’t take long for his friends to give him a makeover, convincing him to throw out his baggy tshirts and most of his jeans, in favor of more feminine pieces. mini skirts, heels and crop tops (at least, when he could sneak them past his parents). he grew out his short hair to better hide his cochlear implants, smiling and nodding when he couldn’t keep up in conversations instead of drawing attention to his deafness. for the first time in his life he fit in, and he didn’t want to remind people that he was different.

(tw: dysphoria) but something was different, and it wasn’t his cochlear implants or the fact he was one of the only asian kids at his predominately white high school. something about the way he looked bothered him. he would often stare at himself in the mirror, and he knew the girl staring back at him in the mirror was pretty, but he couldn’t connect with ‘her’. she felt like a completely different person, almost like a mask he wore despite not understanding why he ‘needed’ to wear it or why he felt so numb to his own body.

the huas weren’t really hurting for money, but sending two teenagers to college only a year apart would be tough for any family. harley didn’t want to put that kind of stress on his parents, so he focused on cheerleading scholarships. he toured suffolk because it has one of the best cheer programs in the country. it was a dream school, but he doubted they’d want him on their team, let alone offer him enough money that he could afford to attend. yet that’s exactly what happened, so harley accepted and moved to boston.

during his freshman year of college, he realized nobody cared what he looked like in college. many of his classmates showed up to lectures in their pajamas. he started experimenting with his clothes, trading out the feminine pieces he’d been wearing for the past four years and wearing the things he wanted to; androgynous and masculine pieces. at first he wasn’t so sure why it made him happy, he just knew it did.

(tw: dysphoria) harley had never paid much attention to the trans community. he certainly never thought of himself as trans or genderqueer. sure, he often felt like an alien stuck in someone else’s body, but he assumed that was normal - something every girl secretly felt. after joining his college’s gsa and meeting trans people for the first time and hearing their stories, it began to click. harley came out towards the end of his freshman year of college, and started transitioning a few months later. his parents didn’t try to stop him, but it’s clear they don’t understand. a small part of harley is bothered by this, but he doesn’t let it get him down. it took a long time for them to accept he was deaf, too, but they eventually came around. they’re just slow to accept changes. between that and their refusal to learn ASL, harley isn’t on the best of terms with them, but he doesn’t stop to let this get to him. 

overall harley is a very happy kid. he’s at his dream college, living his best life and preparing for the future he’s wanted since he was a kid

[ HEADCANONS ]

not wanting to take much money from his parents, harley works as a bartender three days a week at a popular bar near campus

if he’s not at work or in class, he’s either practicing cheer, working out at the student rec center, or at one of two coffee shops (one being the starbucks in his building, the other being an independent mom-and-pop cafe not far from campus)

he’s basically a jock villager from animal crossing. as stated before, he’s really into cheerleading. since getting his top surgery last summer he’s fallen in love with swimming. he also lifts weights and goes running a couple times a week with nadia.

harley is very busy, and his schedule is constantly fluctuating between working late nights and practices at any time of day. he’s pretty much always sleep deprived, and lives on an insane amount of coffee (he doesn’t like energy drinks).

harley’s preferred method of communication is asl. he uses interpreters in class and is involved with the deaf community in boston. but since most people on the squad only know a limited amount of sign, and other people he knows on campus don’t know the language at all, he often relies on the combination of his cochlear implant and lipreading to communicate. if he can’t hear with his cochlear implant (dead battery, too much background noise, etc) he won’t be able to understand enough by reading lips. but on the other hand, if he’s using his implant to communicate, watching the other person’s mouth helps him fill in the blanks.

[ WANTED CONNECTION ]

teammate // they do cheer together, so they spend a lot of time with each other

asl friends // harley prefers asl, so it would be great for him to have people to sign with!

regular customer // your character hangs out at the bar harley works at. conversely, they’re a bariste at one of the cafes harley is at multiple times a day

workout buddies // they lift weights together

rainbow family // in the queer community, they say you make your own family. harley doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents, and his brother is attending school on the west coast, so harley could use some lgbtq+ family in boston

comic book nerds // harley loves comic books. they were a major escape for him growing up and how he got into drawing in the first place. so maybe your character is also really into comic books, or they just share a passion for the mcu movies

[ FINAL NOTES ]

That’s all I got, but I’m open to almost anything with him. Looking forward to getting to explore him more here!

[shaalk]

Great morning

Type: Oneshot

Characters: Yixing X Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Warnings: Slightly suggestive

Status: Completed

Summary: It’s the day after Yixing and I got together so I know it’s not going to be a good morning, it is going to be a great one.

Words: 1429

I groan as the sunlight hits my face, forcing me awake. I squint my eyes to adjust to the bright light before cursing at myself for forgetting to draw the curtains the night before, or else I could have gotten a bit more shut eye. 

It is only 9:30am in the morning for crying out loud! 

However, I can't worry about sleeping in any longer because I suddenly recall what happened the night before: Yixing's and my confession to each other. 

We are finally together!

I reach out to my right for a warm figure only to be greeted by warm sheets instead, signalling that he had woken up not too long ago. I get up quickly, brush my teeth and skip out of my bedroom, excited to spend the day with my new boyfriend.

As soon as I exit my room, I am immediately greeted with the smell of fresh eggs being fried. 

My boyfriend is making us breakfast! 

I stand at the doorway of the kitchen, hiding myself to secretly watch Yixing cook. My oh my is it a sight to behold. 

He is standing in front of the stove with only a pair of boxers on. The sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows shine directly on his back, highlighting his milky pale skin. All I can think of doing is nuzzling my face in his broad back.

And that's what I do. 

I creep into the kitchen quietly and wrap my arms around his waist. I feel him jolt a little in shock but I just snuggle into his back, inhaling his musky scent and enjoying his warmth. I am slowly melting into the heat he is emitting when I hear him chuckle deeply, making his back rumble as well. 

"Xing-ah, you're so warm and comfy. I could stay like this forever," I mumble into his back as I tighten my arms around him.

He turns around and brings me into his arms, hugging me. 

"Good morning my princess" he greets as he kisses me on my forehead. "Slept well?" I nod my head giddily and shove my nose into his chest. 

Yixing takes it upon himself to card his fingers through my hair. We remain like this for a while, simply enjoying the comfortable silence and each other's warmth.

I could get used to mornings like this.

Soon though, the smell of something burning fills the air. 

"My eggs!" Yixing screams in horror as he turns back to the frying pan. 

I am overtaken by a fit of giggles right away.

Yixing kills the stove and grumpily throws the eggs away. They’re beyond burnt and there is no way to salvage them because they are black and crispy. I can see the male pouting, utterly sad that his once perfectly fine eggs are now in the bin. 

He glares at me, clearly upset that i’m still laughing at his kitchen mishap. 

"Ya! You made me burn my eggs and now you're laughing at me? You're so dead,” he declares as he cracks his knuckles.

Knowing my future, I quickly dash out of the kitchen not wanting to suffer from Yixing's tickle attack. I only make it to the living room which is literally beside the kitchen, when Yixing catches up to me and pushes me down onto the couch. 

He starts tickling me non-stop, enjoying the way I squeal and struggle to escape his attacks. I am wriggling around and tearing because his tickle assault is too much for me to handle. I keep screaming for him to stop but to no avail.

After a minute or so when Yixing thinks that he has tortured me enough, he stops digging his fingers into my sides. Instead, he holds me steadily by my waist so that he can catch my lips in his. 

Our breakfast is long forgotten on the kitchen table as we lay on the sofa even after our mini make out session for another activity. Things escalate rather quickly because Yixing and I soon find ourselves breathless after a morning workout. 

Normally I hate exercising, but the type I do with Zhang Yixing, not so much.  

We come down from our highs and moments later, Yixing flips the both of us so that he is lying on the sofa instead, while I am resting on top of him.

My head finds purchase on my boyfriend's chest, our legs comfortably tangled. Yixing's arms are around me and he is stroking my back softly, almost putting me to sleep. Our sweat is mixing but neither of us mind. 

Yixing runs his fingers through my sweaty locks while I stroke his chest, kissing it every few seconds. I just can’t get enough of him.

"You dressed for me?" He asks out of the blue. 

I am only wearing one of his shirts, which could easily pass as a dress for me. I watch Yixing’s eyes dilate significantly at the sight of me in his clothes. I just smile into his chest. 

"Anything for you Yixing-ah,” I whisper and peck his chest once more. 

His grip on my waist tightens signalling that my reply has tickled his fancy. 

Yixing must have loved my reply a little too much because in a flash, I am flipped over again so that he is straddling me, and the top I am wearing is flung across the apartment. 

Needless to say, it became an extremely stimulating morning for the both of us.

After one more round in the shower, Yixing and I decide to head out for breakfast (or lunch) since we are too exhausted to cook and have nothing to cook anyway. 

Also, Yixing says, and I quote, "I want to show my new girlfriend off to the world." 

So, we stroll hand-in-hand to a nearby popular brunch spot, just chatting about random things.

Even though Yixing and my relationship status has very recently changed from friends to couple, the atmosphere between us is not awkward at all. The conversations we share rarely come to a stop and even when they do, the quietness isn’t uncomfortable. I am really thankful for that because I usually find myself feeling uneasy when moments of awkward silence take place.

Upon reaching the unusually empty restaurant, we are able to be seated immediately. The waiter takes our orders after 5 minutes or so, and then Yixing and I are alone again. 

I am sipping on my glass of water when I catch sight of Yixing staring at me with a fond smile on his face. I try my best to fight the blush that is going to paint my cheeks but I am not able to. 

Yixing’s grin widens, extremely satisfied that he can manage to coax such a reaction out of me.

"What?" I ask, curious as to why Yixing has been staring at me for so long. 

"You're just,” Yixing starts and pauses. I raise my eyebrows, impatient to hear the rest of his statement. "Really pretty,” he continues with a shrug. 

I bite my lower lip, trying to control the wide and ugly grin that is creeping its way out. 

Yixing sniggers harder at my expression and I think I hear him whisper 'cute' under his breath but i’m not really sure because I am still feeling abashed from his previous statement.

Thankfully, our orders arrive, giving me a moment to calm down from Yixing's heart fluttering statement. 

My boyfriend whips out his phone and starts taking pictures of our food while I just sit back and let him do his thing. After all, taking pictures is his passion and forte. 

He is really good at it. 

I make a mental note to steal a picture or two from him after our meal to post on Instagram.

When I look back at Yixing, he is no longer taking pictures of our meal. Instead, his camera is pointed towards me. 

"Stop!" I panic-yell and reach over the table to cover his camera lens. 

I am in my worst state, no make-up on and not camera ready. Despite my complaints, I hear the shutter sounds continue. I start whining and pleading Yixing with my eyes.

Yixing pauses his photo-taking for a moment and pouts. 

"But baby, you know I like taking pictures of pretty things!" 

My mouth hangs open in shock at the cheesy comment, unable to believe that my boyfriend can make such a toe-curling comment. Deep down however, I am loving Yixing's remark because I can feel my heart pounding wildly.

This man is going to give me a heart attack!

A/N: Let me know what you think! Please drop a comment :)

[caffeine-and-tears]

John Laurens X M! S/o Pride headcanons

Character: John Laurens (Hamilton) x male reader! 

Type: Headcanons +moodboard

Triggers: Tear gas, protests, drinking, sexual innuendo, racism, homophobia

Word count: 1,117

General S/o

If you’re dating John Laurens you gotta be okay with cuddles

He the most cuddly boi ever (Please love him)

He’s definitely the type to hug you at random moments and ask for cuddles like John you’re adorable but the pancakes are burning

I feel like John is a sucker for simple domestic things. Seeing you fall asleep in his arms? Watching you make breakfast in your boxers? He will m e l t

He’s very affectionate! Random kisses are a big part of how he shows he loves you (Please tell him if you’re not okay with it the boi will understand)

If you’re the type to drown him in compliments please warn him! He might cry

Babe you know you mean the world to me? John.exe has stopped functioning

He can’t deal with it, he blushes every time

He won’t buy you a lot of stuff but he will 100% make you stuff! 

I hc John as a pretty great artist so expect a lot of drawings of you! 

If you’re the type to spoil him he will internally die every single time

Hey babe I got you that book about the American revolution you wanted! I would die for you

John loves going on adventurous dates or just general fun dates. He’s the type to go skydiving with you if you let him. Or maybe just a theme park! (If you go to Disney with the boi he will beg you to go on all the roller coasters and will try to buy all the stuffed animals I don’t make the rules)

But if you prefer more tame dates that’s fine! I mean he loves coffee shops and movie nights as much as the next guy. And to share it with the most handsome man? Who could ever say no? 

He might fall asleep if you’re doing a movie night though.

His southern drawl comes out when he’s sleepy so like, enjoy horny bastards

But like seriously early morning/ late is usually when things go down (usually you) 

(I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself) 

He’s 100% more cuddly when he’s sleeping. He will not let go! Especially if you’re warm (And if you’re the type to kick in your sleep he will still hang on)

You’ll wake up with his face nuzzled in your neck while he begs you for just 5 more minutes, please????

He is a blanket burrito kinda guy. He’s usually v cold so he uses it as an excuse to get affection. Babe, I’m freezing only kisses will warm me up 

He doesn’t sleep too late, 12 am is basically his limit and if you stay awake longer he will pout until you join him. 

C u d d l e  h i m

And don’t try to stay up late! He will force you into bed by 1 am, he’s gotten a lot of practice with getting Alex into bed he is really good.

John is a pretty deep sleeper like you’ll have to work hard to wake him up. You can try tickling, just basic shoving, and if nothing else works play All-star very loudly. (If you can get him off you that is-)

Or you can make him breakfast! 

Speaking of breakfast (Great segue) it’s the only food John really knows how to cook. He can’t make pasta but you’ll find him snacking on waffles at 8 am.

If you know how to cook then teach the boi !!! He’ll hang on to every word you say and John no you don’t have to take notes. Please don’t leave him in the kitchen alone though if he’s trying something new, not after the sprinkle incident- (*Lightning strikes dramatically in the background*)

If you don’t know how to cook its fine y’all could learn together! I mean all the google recipes didn’t turn out so well and you had to invite Laf and Herc over to teach you but still!

He does like baking though! 

Well only chocolate chip cookies

Fine only cookie dough

Oh, you thought Hamilton was extreme? Well, meet John brings-up-the genocide-of-the-natives-at-a-children’s-party Laurens!

He’s going to be so busy caring about everything going on the world except himself

Please take care of him! 

He goes to every protest and puts himself in front of anyone being harassed by cops It’s better me than them they get enough of that shit

Pack him googles or protective eyewear!!! 

He’s gotten tear-gassed so many times-

You’ve found him crying over news report after news report multiple times

Remind him that it’s okay to unplug for a bit! He will burn himself out emotionally if you don’t.

Going to pride

John isn’t the type to dress up normally but like Does this outfit have enough rainbows babe? I wanna piss off the homophobes

Pray for the homophobes who give you shit what the hell did you just call my boyfriend????

He doesn’t care he will 100% fight them 

(If you want to stop John from being charged with assault pull him into a kiss! It’s a win/win scenario the Homophobe gets even more pissed off and he gets kisses!)

Y’all visit a booth with rainbow plushies and OH MY GOD THERE’S A RAINBOW TURTLE CAN WE BUY IT PLEASE

He names the turtle after you and gets Herc to make it clothes  (Exclusively turtlenecks, John likes puns okay) 

After going to a parade John would like to tour a bunch of queer bars with you! He loves how lively they are and the sense of community! (Plus he won’t pass up booze, ever)

If you don’t drink/ don’t like bars that fine too! Y’all could cuddle while watching Love Simon he doesn’t mind! (He will cry though, every time)

Celebrating pride at home

I hc that John has a Tumblr he uses to educate himself and others about multiple issues but during pride month it’s all about LGBT issues!

You’ll find him in the living room reading an 80-page pdf and you’re like ??? Oh yeah I asked Alex for his resources on the Bathroom bill-he got excited’

He will try out some rainbow themed recipes! (Again he doesn’t know how to cook so please make sure he doesn’t poison himself!)

Will 100% tweet about how cute you are constantly (he does that usually he just is a lil extra gayer during pride month)

You will be using Youtube/Netflix party to binge-watch Thomas’s sanders and Sense8 I don’t make the rules

He loves you so much! Every day he wakes up with you in his arms is a great one!

Take care of him please

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this! I’ll (try) to post something every day of pride month! (Complete with a moodboard). Okay but seriously I know we’re all happy because it’s pride but black people are still being murdered. I’ve reblogged several ways you can help including ways you can help if you can’t donate on my other blog @fight-me-i-dare-you-bro. 

Stay safe everyone

[a-little-dreamer-s-world]

Desperate Times and Desperate Measures (Can Lead to Good Things)

So, this was my secret santa gift for @lovebug5151! I’m so, so sorry that this is so late, and I hope I got what were some of the things you wanted. I’ve been under a lot of stress recently, but now it’s behind me so I was finally able to post this! For anyone else wondering, this was a sanders sides g/t secret santa event held by @secret-sanders-sized!

Warnings?: Sickness mention, Loceit, Deceit as a character, allusion to past trauma with no description to it, anxious thoughts,

_____________________

It was quiet within the walls.

Dee wasn’t sure if he should be bothered by that fact or not. The boys, Roman and Remus, were both asleep in their beds. Normally, they would both stay up to talk and giggle with each other; the last few days had been rough, though, so he could understand why they weren’t in the mood to be playful. But for now, that’s not what he could focus on. No, there was something else entirely.

Logan was ill.

Now, if  they were human, it wouldn’t be a big deal; take some medicine, a lot of rest and fluid, and you’d feel better after a few days. But Dee and Logan weren’t human. They were borrowers.

Dee sat beside their shared bed, a bowl of cool water next to him as he used a scrap of cloth to wipe at Logan’s forehead. Lo was currently asleep, a fever coursing through his body that was almost painful to watch. When he finished, he put the cloth back into the bowl to soak as he tenderly reached over to hold his hand.

“What am I going to do, Lo?” He asked quietly, trying to keep him from waking. They weren’t human beans; they couldn’t go out of the house to get medicine. Whatever was in this house was in their grasp, but that came with its own risks. Much more likely to get caught, much more likely to get stuck, and worse of all, much more likely to overdose. 

Dee froze when Logan’s head moved toward him, blinking slowly at him. “Honeybee?” he asked, his voice raspy from sleep and from sickness.

“Yes, Logan?” he breathed out, squeezing his hand.

“Are the boys okay?” He tried to sit up, but he groaned as his very bones seemed to protest at the movement. Dee quickly got him to lie back down, petting his hair.

“Yes, they’re both in their beds, I made sure,” he said to him, trying to smile a bit. Logan shakily reached out and rubbed a thumb on the large scar that covered the side of his face, making him close his eyes and lean in the feeling. His hands were ice cold, much colder than they usually were. 

“Dee, do me a favor,” Logan said, his voice hushed. 

“Anything in my power,” he immediately said, looking at him with an aching worry.

“Go grab me a piece of paper and some lead,” he said, letting go of Dee’s cheek. The other man nodded, getting from the bed. He swiftly left to go down the hall towards the living room, but he paused at the boys’ room.

Roman and Remus were fast asleep, Roman’s bed empty and Remus’s holding double the amount of sleepers. He smiled softly at the sight of them; they liked to sleep together when one of them had bad dreams, or when they stayed up talking and scheming.

His smile fell as he left, going into the next room to grab what Logan wanted. He made his way back quickly, trying not to wake the boys up. When he came back into their shared room, Dee sat down next to the bed in his spot from before, handing Logan paper and lead.

Logan reached over to their bedside table, a spool of thread that had been cut in half (the other half being in the boys’ room), to put on his glasses. He blinked a few more times to get readjusted, looking down at the paper and getting to work.

Dee watched him write strings of numbers he could only wish to understand; before Logan had to move and found himself here, he had lived at a college professor’s home. It was there that he used the textbooks to learn much more complicated math than the simple adding and subtracting many borrowers knew.

When he was done, Logan flipped the piece of paper over and started writing normal words; he wrote simply, and Dee was grateful for that. He had grown up in the country; specifically in a barn, and it wasn’t until he moved into the more urban areas that he started learning to read.

“Here,” Logan whispered, handing him the paper. He took it, and his eyes began to widen as he understood what he wanted.

“Lo, are you sure?” he breathed, looking at the answer to what would hopefully solve their problem; an exact amount of how much a painkiller he could take. 

Logan nodded, taking his glasses off again. “It will help me be well again, so then I’m not a burden.”

“Never,” Dee reached over to squeeze his hand. “Never to me. Never have been, never will be.”

His love gave him that small, rare smile he loved to see, though to see it on a face so pale made his throat close up. Dee leaned over to kiss his forehead once and got up, getting his borrowing bag ready. He had medicine to get, afterall.

_____________________

Within one of the bedrooms of the Sanders’ home, a teenager lay on his bed with his headphones in, listening to punk rock music as he worked over something he hated with a burning passion: algebra homework.

Virgil sighed out as he sat up, rubbing his temples for the umpteenth time since he started this an hour ago. The fourteen year old may have been smart, sure, but even he didn’t think he could keep doing this for a minute longer.

He paused his music to take off his headphones, stretching his arms out and arching his back backwards. He stood up and went to his backpack against his dresser, pulling out a battered sketchbook. He snatched up a pen off his dresser and began to pace around, trying to think of anything to sketch.

His dad was downstairs making dinner, so he couldn’t do anything with him at the moment. Normally he’d help him, but this was something new they were trying, and his dad liked to know what he was doing so he knew how to teach him. He did offer to bake cookies with him after though, so he would probably take him up on that offer.

He groaned even more when he tossed the sketchbook on the bed, changing his mind to go get some pjs and take a shower. If he couldn’t draw, and he really didn’t want to go back to algebra, he could at least get himself cleaned up and ready for bed a bit early, right?

He went out into his hallway to go grab a towel out of the linen closet, light footsteps barely heard over the sound of clanking pots further away in the one-story home. When he got into the bathroom, he paused to notice that the medicine cabinet above the sink was cracked open. 

Virgil frowned as he set his clothes on top of his toilet, going over to open it up. Did his dad get cut or something and he left the door open? There wasn’t any blood in the sink, so he didn’t think so. When he opened, nothing seemed to be out of place, which confused him even more. The cabinet door was sturdy; it didn’t just swing open on its own. So what…?

As he was about to close it again, he thought he saw something move inside, making him stop to open it again. All was still once more, but now his suspicions were raised as he carefully started to move things around.

When he got to a bottle of cough syrup a sudden sharp pain came from his index finger, making him yelp as his hand pulled back with the bottle. He dropped it though, with growing eyes and his mouth starting to hang open, when he realized what was standing in the cabinet.

It was a tiny man, maybe a bit taller than his finger, standing there with a safety pin in his hand and a glare in his eyes. Virgil didn’t know what to say, taking a single step forward as all his brain could make him say was, “Uhhh…”

“Don’t come a single step closer,” the tiny man spat out, and Virgil couldn’t help but listen as he took in what he was seeing. This man was standing so close to the edge of the shelf, pointing out that safety pin right at him. The whole half of his face was scarred (burns, maybe?) and twisted in anger. No, it wasn’t anger at all.

It was fury.

“W-Wait, don’t move,” he finally said, worry starting to seep out as he realized just what kind of fall at that height would really hurt the man, and he didn’t want him to do anything like that thanks to him. 

“Don’t talk to me like that,” the man said, taking another step closer, another step to teeter on the edge. “I can and will make your life a personal hell if you try to lay a finger on me.”

“Please don’t move,” Virgil pleaded, his arms waving a bit in an attempt to calm him down. “I-I don’t want to do anything to you, so please—”

“Don’t think I don’t know your games, bean!” He yelled at him, making Virgil freeze at just how much hatred was in his voice. “You say you won’t do anything, but then you’ll set up traps to get me out, or better yet, you’ll do something like this,” he pointed at his face where the scar laid, “just because you can!”

Virgil felt confusion and anxiety and who knew what else course through at the tiny man’s words, but he couldn’t say anything when nothing came to mind.

“I’m not going to let that happen! So, get—” his tone changed to surprise and fear as his footing slipped, making him wobble over the edge and start going down. Virgil worked on pure instinct, rushing forward with his hands out, feeling a very small weight land in them. He slowly opened his eyes, peering down at the small man in the dark clothes, the smallest pack he’d ever seen by his side and spilled out.

Their eyes met, and for a solid minute the whole world felt like it had gone still. Virgil could barely breathe, but his brain was starting to process the whole fact that this tiny man, so impossibly small, was now in hands. He realized something else too: he was trembling, trembling with a fear he was trying so hard not to show.

The teen reacted quickly and carefully, leaning forward to set the man down on the bathroom counter. He happened to glance down and see that one of the things that had come out of the bag was a painkiller; that was probably why the man was in the cabinet in the first place.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay!” he blurted out, his hand slapping over his mouth. For reasons he didn’t know why  himself, he turned around and went out the bathroom door, closing it behind him to dash back into his room. He got to the side of his bed and slid down, his hand still over his mouth. 

He sat there in silence for a while, rubbing his temples as he tried to process everything he saw. As he did, other thoughts came into his mind. Where did the man come from? Had he always been here? Why was he taking a painkiller? What was he, and were there anymore?

He shook his head as the last question entered his mind, standing up. He didn’t know, and it wasn’t any of his business. He slowly went back out of his room, going to the bathroom door once more. He rapped a knuckle against the door and pressed an ear against it, listening for any movement. Nothing.

He opened the door to peek inside, finding it completely empty. He looked around, finding nothing that showed that the tiny man had been there. He did find the bottle of cough syrup on the ground, picking it up to put away.

He was starting to think that maybe he’d imagined the whole thing up somehow when something caught his eye. Curled up in the corner of the cabinet was a pile of string with a metal piece at the end. He picked it up carefully in his fingers, examining it. It looked like… a rope and hook. It clicked to him then that that must have been how the man had gotten inside in the first place, but now he had left it behind all thanks to him.

He chewed on his lip as he thought of what to do when he heard his dad calling him. “Hey, kiddo! Dinner’s ready, do you want to eat?”

Virgil quietly pocketed the tiny man’s hook and got out of the bathroom, calling back, “Yeah, one sec!” He glanced at his clothes on the toilet seat, his shower long forgotten. He could take one when he was done eating, and he figured he’d put the hook on the floor somewhere hidden, so that maybe the man would find it again. As much as he wanted to meet him again, he didn’t think it would be a good idea.

Unaware to him in that moment, Dee had made his way back home, a bit shaken up, but happy to be back safe and sound. He’d spend the rest of the evening to take the pain killer and scrape off the amount Logan gave him to help get better. This would make Logan better by the next day, and the day after his fever would break for good, but he didn’t know that yet. 

And unaware to the borrowers that lived in the Sanders’ home, Virgil’s sketchbook would start filling with doodles of a strange tiny man with a scar on his face, as well as lists of things he could try to leave for him, for the next few weeks to come.

[avengerscompound]

Punk

Punk: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2648

Warnings:  Smut (M|F, Oral and Vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers falls for the punk girl from next door. Maybe you have more in common than appearances would have you believe.

A/N:  Normally when I do a reader insert I try and make the reader as physically a blank slate as possible. Sometimes I slip up a little by saying they put on Steve’s shirt or he runs his fingers through her hair or that she blushed. But I do usually try not to do any of that so you can put yourself physically into the reader. This is not the case with this one. @abigailredgrave and I actually hashed this out for a while. Part of what appealed to both of us with this concept was huge straight-laced Steve with a tiny punk girl. So she has a lot of physical descriptors. I have tried to be racially ambiguous still. But you are going to have to pretend you’re skinny and 5′1 and covered in tattoos. Sorry if that’s off-putting. I would normally only do that with OC’s but we decided on Reader for this.

Also, this was written before Black Panther and Infinity War so it’s based on a post CW world that doesn’t exist.

Punk

Steve sits sketching at his desk.  The only light in the room coming from the dusty desk lamp next to him and the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling in the living room where Bucky lies on the couch reading.  The stray tabby cat that had decided to adopt him sitting on his chest.

They’d been on the run for several months now.  They’d settled in Canada, but even though Canada had been one of the countries not to sign the Accords, they were still playing it low key.  Not venturing out too far.  Only trusting select people.

He heard the drumbeat first and smirked.  He remembered how annoyed he was the first time that asynchronous sound drifted through the walls.  How he’d lain in bed holding his pillow over his ears, cursing under his breath.  How eventually he’d cracked and stormed next door only to be greeted by you.  5’1, spiky pink hair, arms covered in sleeves of tattoos, dressed in a men’s shirt that fits you like a dress that had ‘The Ramones’ printed on the front.  You’d been brushing your teeth and as soon as he’d asked you to turn it down you’d apologized profusely.

“Oh hey!  I’m so sorry, man.  I thought that apartment was empty.  I’ll keep it down from now on.”  You’d said as you’d stared up at him, toothbrush still in your mouth.

The following day you’d shown up dressed in a leather jacket, torn black jeans, boots and a leather collar around your neck.   You had donuts and coffee for him to apologize.  When you’d seen that Steve was living with Bucky and neither of them was fully clothed as they went about their morning routine, your first assumption was they were together.  When you’d asked Bucky had laughed at you.

“With this punk?  He’s not my type.”  Bucky had said.

After that Steve had just found himself drawn to you.  It made no sense.  You were nothing like him.  You were everything he wasn’t.  Small and fearless.  Ready to stand up for yourself and anyone around you.  Colorful and social.  He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Sounds like she’s home!”  Bucky calls out.

Steve gets up and wanders into the living room.  “I should tell her to keep it down.”  He says.

“You gonna ask her out this time?”  Bucky asks, looking up at Steve. His hand absentmindedly going to going to the cat’s head and giving it a scratch.  It flexed its front paws and started purring loudly.

Steve rolls his eyes.  “Like she’d be interested in me at all.  What do we have in common?”

Bucky bursts out laughing, disturbing the cat.  It jumps off his chest and runs under the couch.  “Steve.  If you were born a girl in the nineties she is exactly who you would be.  She is more you than you are because you always tried to act respectable and she’s just ‘fuck it, fight me’.”

“But…”  

“But, nothin’, pal.  So she has tattoos and dies her hair and she’s small.  Did you forget you were small once too?”  Bucky says.

“I didn’t get tattoos or dye my hair,”  Steve says, hunching his shoulders.

“Stop making excuses,”  Bucky says simply.  “You know she turns that music up so you go over there right?  She stopped doing it for a whole week and then when you didn’t come ‘round she started doing it again.”

“You think?”  Steve says.  He’s hopeful, but also terrified.  He hasn’t dated.  He doesn’t know how to do it at all.  Let alone in this world.  Let alone with you.

“I know.  Now go tell her to turn it down.”  Bucky says.

Steve heads over and knocks on the door.  You were waiting for him and when you open it you just launch yourself into his arms.  “Stevie!”  You squeal as he closes his arms around you, completely enveloping your tiny frame in his large one.  “Is the music too loud?  I’ve been to a concert and my ears are all blocked.  You ever get that?”  That isn’t a lie, but that isn’t why you have the music up.  You know it draws him over.

“Sometimes… not normally from music though. Once it was from aliens.”  Steve says as he lets you go.

You head to your stereo, switching it off.  “Your life is crazy.”  You say.  “You wanna drink?”

Steve chuckles.  “You’re talking so loudly.  But yes.  I’ll have a drink.”

You go take a beer out of the fridge one for you and one for Steve.  He opens it and drinks.  Sometimes he questions why he bothers.  He doesn’t love the taste of beer, and he doesn’t get the added effects most people get when they drink it.

“Hey so, I know it’s not your thing.  But there’s a club in town.  They’re having a 70s punk revival night tomorrow.  Some people put my name down on the door.  You wanna tag along?”  You ask.

Steve freezes like a deer in headlights.  He does want to go with you somewhere.  But he couldn’t think of a place where he’d be more out of place.  You take a swig of beer and assess him as he internally weighs up all the pros and cons of saying yes.

“Nah, dude.  Never mind.  It’s not your thing I get it.”  You say when the pause seems to be getting uncomfortable.

“No.  No, it’s okay.”  Steve says, quickly.  The sudden fear he’ll miss the only opportunity he gets rushing in on him.  “I’ll go.”  He takes a long drink of the beer.  “Tomorrow?”

You light up.  “That’s wicked good.  I’ll come get you.  At say; eight?  We can get food first.”

That’s how you and Steve end up on your first date.   You walk the street together towards the club.  You with your leather cuffs and jacket.  Your thick black boots and your torn black tee and jeans.  Him in his tan pants, sensible shoes, and light blue shirt.  To his credit, he’s also wearing a leather jacket, but it’s tan too.

You couldn’t look more different if you’d aimed to.

When you both get to the club you give the doorman the name and he lets you in, you’re walking through the door when Steve gets stopped.  “Where do you think you’re going, bub?”

You turn back to see the bouncer with his hand on Steve’s chest and Steve looking at you helplessly.

“Hey, what are you doing?  He’s with me?”  You snap, puffing your chest out.

“Yeah, well I guess you’re not going in either.  Because Grandpa isn’t getting through that door.”  The bouncer growls.

You shove yourself right up in the guy’s personal space.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  He is with me!  My name is on the list!”  You shout up into the guy’s face.

Steve shifts nervously watching you.  Really not wanting to make a scene.  Not being able to afford to make a scene.

“You wanna try something, little girl?”  The bouncer growls, shoving you backward.  You raise your fists about to launch yourself at him when Steve’s arms wrap around your waist and he drags you away.  You struggle, legs kicking.

“Please stop,”  Steve says, firmly.  “I can’t have the police come.  Do you understand that?”

You nod, taking a deep steadying breath.  “That can’t just treat you like that because you look different.”   You seethe.

He turns you to face him and caresses your thumb with his cheek.  “Bucky was right.”  He says.

Your breath starts to steady and you look up into his blue eyes.  “About what?”

“He said you were just like me.  You are so much like me.”  He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  You reach your hands up and put them around his neck, pulling him down to you.

“This is kinda fast for me.”  He breathes, his lips are so close to yours.  Not saying it because he doesn’t want it.  Just because he feels it needs to be said.

His words startle you a little.  You’re so used to guys just taking what the want.  Rushing you.  To hear this is not his norm is surprising.  “Do you not want it?”  You ask.

He answers by pressing his lips to yours.  You had both expected just a brief touching of lips. It becomes so much more.  Your lips part and tongues meet as they both try to access the other’s mouth.  He pulls you hard up against him and you card your fingers through his hair.

Your skin feels hot, but not as hot as Steve’s.  He realizes that in this moment he wants you.  He’s been with other women before.   But normally in the past, that happened after spending countless hours together.  Usually working.  He’d never just gone out and immediately wanted to go home again for sex.

You pull back and look up at him.  “We did dinner.  Do you want to just go home?”  You ask.

Steve swallows and nods.  You take his hand and get in the first taxi that will take you.  In the back seat, you’re all over each other.  Kissing and running your hands over each others body.  You sneak your hand to his cock and feel him, hard and straining against his pants, before he takes your hand and moves it away.

When you get back to the apartment block, you rush upstairs taking two stairs at a time.  You get to your apartment and scramble to unlock the door as Steve kisses your neck.  Once in, jackets are shed.  There is no illusion about coffee or watching Netflix, or any other reason why you should be here.  You want each other, desperately.

Steve pulls your shirt off over your head and you start unbuttoning his.  You get impatient and tear it.  Buttons pop off and shoot across the room.  Steve growls and lifts you off the floor pushing you against the wall.  Kissing you hard.  You wrap your legs around his tiny waist and he grinds his cock against you. You both moan at the friction of your pants pushing against your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, Steve.  I need you inside me.”  You moan.  You head falls back and he starts sucking on your throat.  It makes you moan louder and your cunt starts to drip for him.  Steve pulls back, a mark already forming on your skin.

“Say that again.”  He growls.  His cock aches. He wants nothing more to have it buried deep into your pussy.  To feel your heat and wet squeezing tightly around him.

“I need you inside me.  I need you to fuck me, Steve.” You mewl.

Steve grunts.  No one has ever spoken to him like that before.  His cock throbs in his pants.  He carries you wrapped around him in the direction of the bedroom.  He set you on your feet and you unhook your bra and turn around to take off your jeans.  You do it slowly, wiggling your ass in his face.

Steve groans as he takes his own shoes and pants off.  But it’s not just that you’re teasing him.  It’s everything about you.  Your tiny, feminine frame.  The sleeve tattoos that continue down your back and curl around your waist, finishing at your hips only to take up again on your thighs.  How bright your hair and skin look.  With all the colors that don’t normally feature on a person naturally.

He drops his pants and boxers and steps out of them.  Bucky had insisted he take protection with him.  Steve had tried to tell him that he wouldn’t need it, he never moves this fast.  But Bucky wouldn’t stop hassling him until he did.  So he fishes the condom out of his wallet and rolls it on.

“Take those panties off,”  Steve growls.  He can’t even quite believe these are words coming from his own mouth.  You look over your shoulder and smile at him before slowly dragging them down.

Steve approaches you and starts tracing along your tattoos with his mouth.  He kisses the path they make on your back.  His tongue flicks over your skin.  As they loop back around to your stomach he turns you and you fist his hair in your hands.

He reaches your pubic mound which is when the tattoos stop, only he doesn’t.  He tips you back onto the mattress and spreads your legs.  You squirm as you anticipate what’s coming.

Steve spreads your folds with his fingers and flattens his tongue, lapping up your crevice.  As his tongue slides over your clit you moan.  He repeats the process again, getting intoxicated by the scent and taste of you.  It makes his cock throb and leaks in the condom.  He places large open mouth kisses on your pussy.  His mouth is able to cover all of it in one go.   You arch on the mattress and he presses a hand on your hip bone to hold you down.

He sucks on your clit and pushes two fingers inside of you.  You start to beg.  You beg for him to stop torturing you. To let you come or to at least start fucking you. You beg for his dick.

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing though.  As much as he wants to.  As much as your words make him want to come even before he’s inside you.  He keeps sucking and biting on your clit. His tongue flicks over it.  He counters by dragging his fingers on the walls inside you.  It all feels amazing and you’re close just poised to break when he finds your g-spot and presses hard against it.

You scream out and buck violently under him.  Your orgasm tears through you.   He pulls his fingers from inside you but his tongue keeps working on your pussy as you ride out your orgasm.

He stands and you both crawl up onto the bed.  Him stalking after you.  He kisses you and you cling to him.  Your fingers digging into his back.  “Say it again.”  He whispers.  “Beg me for it.”

He presses his cock against your pussy and starts sliding it up and down. The head presses against your clit with every forward thrust.

“Please, Steve.  Please.  I need your dick. I need it inside me.”  You whimper.  “Give it to me.”  The last phrase isn’t begging, it’s ordering.  He complies and he enters you.

You gasp and arch up as your body stretches to accommodate his girth.  “Oh fuck... Fuck yes.”  You cry.

He starts to thrust, moaning at the way your pussy feels squeezing around him.  The heat and softness paired with the ridges and the way the muscles expand and contract.  Milking his cock.

Your body is almost enveloped by his.  You bite at his shoulder and wrap your legs around him as he curves his back to reach more of you with his mouth.   He kisses along your collarbone and sucks at your nipples.  You dig your fingers into him as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Steve… I’m gonna… Oh fuck… can I?”  You babble.

He looks down into your eyes.  “Of course, sweetheart.  I want you to.”

You arch back and your core clenches as your second orgasm sweeps through you.  The pulse of your pussy brings him over with you.  And he empties inside of you.

As his cock stills, he slips from within you and pulls off the condom, throwing it in the trash.  He settles on your bed beside you, and you curl into his chest with his arm wrapped around your waist.

“I told Bucky that I was absolutely not going to have sex with you,”  Steve says, kissing your forehead.  “That it would be too soon.  I am not going to hear the end of this am I?”

You laugh and nuzzle into his neck.  “From that punk?  I doubt it.”

[ecreau]

Boredom Rules!

Probably since it was announced that the lockdown would be implemented in my place. I was already working from home since February imagine being at home for 6 months now haha! As an introvert, I am not complaining at all. Although I miss my usual habits whenever I go out of work. I usually get a morning shift (even now) from 6am to 3pm so I won't be haggling the rush hour because traffic here is the worst!

Anyway, after work, my company doesn't let us work beyond our work schedule so the office is empty at around 3:30pm. I would start to walk going to our trains here and traveling at least 30 minutes until I arrived at a mall where I usually hang out for hours until I go home haha I really miss it.

My usual habit made commuting easy and fun. I go to different stores in the mall especially gaming stores, where I window shop for Nintendo Switch games that I wouldn't buy just happy to look at it then I go for an early dinner at around 4pm. I usually eat Chinese, Japanese, or Korean for dinner because most of the restaurants were near the train usually those cuisines. I love it and miss it so much!

The fact that you're just enjoying your meal, browsing on your phone, or in my case watching an episode of my favorite series sucking up the free wifi in the mall haha I miss these small activities so much. I just wish everything will be back to normal after a year or so.

Although in this case, I am still happy I have work that lets me do everything at home. I can save money, time, and energy. As I also promised that 2020 would definitely be keeping it low in my expenses because 2019 was definitely a blast.

Boredom Rules, as I say right now because from it I definitely learned something new to myself and it is to be patient. After work, I just rest for awhile doing nothing as in lying on the bed, closed eyes and after 30 minutes or so I would get up eat dinner, take a bath and watch my favorite series again or play video games. Boredom definitely made me think of many possibilities that I can do while having so much free time.

Here are some lists that I do when bored haha

1.) I read magazines. If you have heard of Kzone magazine it was a magazine issue started 2003 (?) and its last issue was 4 years ago I think but I always reminisce something from my childhood when I get bored.

2.) List all the series that I haven't finished yet. I am organized I always list everything that I wanna do, especially the series I want to watch. Right now, I am watching Modern Family and I am in Season 5. It is an amazing show!

3.) Drawing challenge. I have so much free time right now and I've always wanted more content in my art blog especially Deviantart because it has been 2 years since I created my account. Special thanks to my followers who always favorite my content. I am happy you are with me since the start.

4.) Play video games haha this is kind of obvious when you are currently addicted to both Pokemon and Animal Crossing (HELP ME haha kidding). I started a new game in both games and I am loving every bit of it! I named my characters, Oreo haha! I'm going to post more pictures of them soon!

5.) Exercise or do chores. As I said, I am an organized person once a week I make sure I clean my room, I wash my clothes, mop the floor and clean everything. It is a small task but I find it as an exercise too. :D

I hope everyone is still healthy and kicking happiness out of themselves! This would be over soon but for now, let us be patient and enjoy the small things we have.

Here we go, August!

Oh here are some of the pictures I've taken this month. I ordered Chinese food, it was coated shrimp, fried rice, and beef stew. They're all delicious!