#and I asked him to give me a little bit of time to think (which he was super sweet about he did literally nothing wrong)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Ok, it was basically a request where the batboys brought their significant other as their date to a gala for the first time, they leave for a second (to get drinks or go to the bathroom or something to that end) and when they come back the see their S/O being harassed by a group of socialite women that keep talking about how they can’t believe someone like the batboy is with such a plain little nobody. That was the gist of it. Sorry 😣

I kinda made Tim’s as bit different than requested, but I couldn’t help but see him grill an entire household and their business ventures. Then again I kinda took creative liberties with all of them.

Dick

Is the type to put on an extremely strained smile across his face as he puts his arm over your shoulders.

‘What’s wrong my love, why the saddened face?’ He asks you sweetly, intentionally ignoring the rich and powerful in front of you both.

‘Oh don’t worry yourself with…that thing dear Richard, they’re too emotional to be in a room with people they could only dream of being in the presence of. I wouldn’t get so close to it if I were you, you might catch their filth.’ One of them sneered and Dick’s jaw tensed in agitation as his eyes remained on you.

‘Do you wanna leave?’ He says in a whisper as he wipes a tear away from your cheek, lightly pinching it in hopes of seeing you smile at him.

‘Yes please, I want to go home and be with Hayley.’ You whispered back, griping his arms tightly, thankful that his body blocked out the rich people that were berating you. Dick’s face softened as he kissed the top of your head, hoping of giving you some form of comfort in your time of distress, before looking back at the rich people with a faux grin.

‘If you please excuse us, my lovely sweetheart, my beloved cutie and my forever lover wishes to leave this drab place and who am I to deny my love of her wishes, for I shall wait on them hand and for forever if it pleases them so because between you and me?’ He then leans close to them. ‘You don’t have the heart to sacrifice everything for the one you love, if you even have hearts in the first place. You posses no freedom and no personality whatsoever for anyone to love nor adore, them however?’ He points towards you as you look at him with a small smile, a smile so sweet that Dick couldn’t help but smile back.

‘They are my everything. I couldn’t think about living without them, not when they’ve don’t nothing but be kind and respectful of me and my time. I don’t deserve them but neither does this city, they’re an angel in human skin that I wish to worship as long as they’ll let me.’ You could feel your cheeks burn at his words as your smiles widened at the twinkle of love within his gorgeous eyes. Dick had a way with words unlike any other and despite being on the receiving end of them for a while now, you still find yourself becoming alight with emotions because of him.

‘So if you’ll excuse me kindly.’ Dick says as he takes your hand and walks you both out of the door where he stops to look at you with concern.

‘I am so sorry you had to deal with them, apparently money makes someone feel entitled to speaking on someone else’s relationship.’ Dick spat as he glared at the grand double doors and you touched his cheek, making him melt into your touch, kissing your palm.

‘It’s okay Dickie bird, let’s just forget this night and go home, get out of these clothes and into some comfy pyjamas and cuddle on the couch as we watch soaps.’ You say as you attempt to calm him down from his passionate outburst and declaration of love, which seems to work as Dick’s eyes twinkled with excitement.

‘Can we wear the matching pyjamas that I got us and Hayley?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but kiss his lip, finding him too adorable in this moment in time, which is something of a occurrence as you’d soon find as you reflect back on your relationship. ‘Of course my sweetie, of course we can wear matching pyjamas.’ You replied and Dick cheered as he leaned to kiss you fully on the lip, his happiness having been contagious as you smiled into the kiss.

Damian

Wishes Bruce didn’t confiscate the sword from him.

He’s the type who can silence anyone with a single fucking glare. So when he sees that you, his beloved, was being harassed by the elitist snobs.

He’s quick to step in and start berating them himself, all dignity and respect has gone out the window for these cretins don’t deserve an ounce of it as far as he was aware. ‘I don’t believe that my relationships are your concern,’ he begins, ‘you’re not kin and thus should’ve learned at an early age that not every topic of interest requires your out of touch input.’

‘Wha-‘ they tried to say but Damian was back on them with another verbal assault.

‘Also I could hear you from across the room, didn’t your parents or paid teacher teach you about volume control? or did they get paid extra to not say a thing in fear your fragile little ego gets crushed under the harsh truth?’ Damian then spits out as he feels you clinging onto his back, which only fuels his need to berate these vile people as karma.

Damian would be their karma if it was the last thing he did.

The rich people chocked on air, not knowing what to say as it was hard to do so when Damian was staring them down, wanting them to say something, anything so that he could verbally beat them down until they submit. He lives for a verbal spat but unfortunately the people whom he’s up against have never had to fight for their honour and dignity, they just paid people to shut up or have people who encourage their pathetic, self entitled behaviour.

‘Enough, don’t hurt yourself trying to think with whatever’s behind those pompous eyes of yours.’ Damian sneered as he looks to you with a soft look. ‘Let’s go my beloved, I have already informed my father of the situation and has Alfred come pick us up to take us back to the manor.’ He says softly as he takes your hand in his as you both began walking away form the group of gobsmacked rich folks, a sight to behold truly as those entitled Individuals love nothing more then the sound of their own voice.

‘Why’d you do that?’ You asked and Damian looked at you as though you grew a second head.

‘Do what? Defend your honour, is that not what a lover is meant to do?’ He says with a raised brow and you couldn’t help but feel a little silly, of course Damian would defend your honour to the death but still insecurities tend to make you forget his undying loyalty.

‘You’re right I’m sorry, I’m just being a little stupid.’ You replied as you downcast your eyes to the floor and Damian stopped to lift your head up by your chin as his emerald eyes glint with concern. ‘Do not heed their words my treasure, for they lack a love that isn’t in due to money. Ours is genuine, if there’s anyone who has to fear for our relationship it is me for I am not the easiest to deal with at times.’ Damian admits as he lets go of your chin.

‘That’s not true.’ You retorted, holding his cheek in your free hand, caressing his cheek. ‘You’re perfect the way you are! A work in progress in being even more beautiful than before and I’m happy to be by your side and watch you grow into an amazing person dami.’ You add as you kiss his cheek, making him smile softly as he rubs against your hand.

‘See, this is what I’m talking about.’ Damian says softly. ‘You are perfection, a being beyond words and I’d be a fool if I didn’t treasure you entirely.’

Jason

That’s it, you’re leaving.

Jason tried to be civil but it’s hard to be civil with out of touch, tone deaf, Botox having, plastic surgery abusing, elite snobs that couldn’t fucking lace their own shoes because their filthy money had that be someone else’s job.

He’s not fucking staying and neither are you to deal with verbal abuse by people who single handedly have run Gotham into the ground with their shady tactics, personally funding the corrupt police officers, police officers that dare spout words like ‘protect and serve’ as though they know the meaning of the fucking word.

He’s marching over to you and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he’s walking you both out of the room, leaving the elites to talk amongst themselves as he guided you outside where thankfully no elite snob can eavesdrop on either of you.

‘Are you okay?’ He asks you as he holds your face between his hands.

‘No… I want to go home.’ You admitted, their words cutting deeper than you’d ever think imaginable.

Jason felt anger flowing through his veins but he knew that you needed him more then ever at this moment, so shouting at some elite snobs can wait for another day, you were his highest priority as he brought you into his chest and kissing your head. ‘Then we’re going home.’ He says with certainty.

‘What about Bruce?’ You asked, looking at him with tearful eyes, not wanting their relationship to fracture just as it was slowly starting to mend.

Jason shrugged, uncaring of what the old man would think, you got insulted and he wasn’t going to let it slide in the slightest. ‘Fuck Bruce, you’re what matters to me.’ Jason says as he kisses your nose, cheeks and lips softly before resting his head against yours. ‘Now let’s ditch this place and go get ourselves some burgers, how does that sound chipmunk?’

You chuckled. ‘Can we get some fries too.’

‘Of course we can, whatever my sweetheart desires.’ Jason replies as he takes your hand again, this time leading you both out of the grand building in a quest to satiate your feelings with the most greasiest of foods.

Tim

Has the most dirt on the elite in my eyes.

Every scandal, every controversy, every crime they’ve committed and gotten away with by covering it up. He has a file as thick as a book on them and he’s not afraid to use it.

And needless to say that the idea to destroy their reputation was more then tempting then ever when he sees that your being harassed. So when he confronts them on their behaviour, he gets really cryptic about how much he actually knows about these people to such an intimate level.

‘I know what you did.’ He’d say.

‘What are you on about?’ They’d ask, thinking this was all a bit to make them laugh.

‘Friday 12th, 12:55am. The incident that cost workers their lives, families whom of which you’ve failed to compensate for who are now threatening to take you to court before you dealt with them in hush money. All just so it doesn’t leak to the press that you knew what you were dealing with was highly unstable and willingly let those workers in unstable and dangerous working conditions.m Tim watches as their faces drop, preparation visible on their foreheads and he continues on, feeling you squeeze his arm.

‘Only to end up illegally selling the product to unground crime syndicates to make ends meet in due to how much money you’ve initially lost.’ Tim then says in response, watched as their faces become unsettlingly pale as they excuse themselves while exiting the room.

He’ll say or this or just say ‘they are after what they’re owed.’ And leave it at that.

Once he’s satisfied that he’s silenced them and damaged their egos, he looks to you with concerned eyes. ‘Are you okay lovely?’ He asks you as he sees just how small you’ve made yourself because of them.

‘I’m fine Tim thanks to you.’ You said as you hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek as he pats your back before rubbing it soothingly. ‘ I thought they wouldn’t shut up, or follow me whether I went just to degrade me for walking or whether else they could degrade me for.’ You add as you burrowed your head into his neck, wanting to forget this had ever happened.

‘All you need to remember is that they’re more flawed and easier to expose, you however,’ Tim kisses your temple, tightening his hold, ‘are more then they could ever comprehend and have more heart and soul then they do and I couldn’t be prouder to be your partner. Thank you for choosing me.’ He finished.

‘I’d choose you every time Tim.’ You replied.

‘Then expect me to do the same bedside there’s no one else I’d rather have them you.’ Tim promised as you stayed in this embrace for a good while before deciding to leave and watch your favourite show on his laptop for comfort.

[barcaatthemoon]

mascot || leah williamson x reader ||

you and leah have a talk about expanding your family after your nephew is leah's mascot.

"There's a canon on my shirt," Max, your nephew, proudly announced to the car. You felt bad about leaving Leah on her own for the morning before a game, but Max was supposed to be her mascot for the game today, and you wanted to personally deliver the boy. Your family would be down later, but you got to keep him to yourself for the morning and afternoon leading up to the game.

"It's the Arsenal canon. Pretty cool, right?" you asked him. Max nodded enthusiastically. You smiled as you turned your attention back towards traffic. It was a dreadfully long drive from your brother's place to London, but this was worth it. Besides, after the game, Max would get to spend some quality time at your parents' place for a bit.

You generally had busy days for most of Max's visits, compliments of your girlfriend. Leah loved having the boy over, and usually had a bunch of little things planned for the three of you to do together. Today, it'd be a chill day of brunch before you went to the game. Max was careful in keeping his Williamson jersey clean, which you thought was quite the feat for the boy.

"Is that my favorite bench buddy?" Alessia asked as she saw you in the parking lot. Max's face lit up as he saw the blonde. He was fond of all of the Lioness players. Since he had lived in England his entire life, he thought of himself as a proper little Englishman. You and your brother were absolutely besides yourselves trying to correct that, but it was a losing battle.

"Where's Leah at?" Max was hugging Alessia, but his focus was on your girlfriend. Alessia laughed, promising to bring Max to Leah once they were inside. You left took Max back so that Alessia could get dressed, unsurprised when Leah and Kim came out to see Max.

Leah went straight to you, giving you a big kiss while Kim had Max distracted. She handed him a little Scottish flag, something you knew that would end up as a decoration on your brother's desk. Max didn't care for Scottish stuff, but that wouldn't stop any of you from trying with him.

"Do you like my canon Leah?" Max asked. Leah nodded as she picked him up. You stepped back to let her have a moment with Max.

"Williamson, huh. I'm surprised that you didn't put your last name on there," Kim said. You shrugged at the comment, currently out from Arsenal for a bad injury. You knew that your whole career was at stake, but you had been trying not to think about it too much. You didn't want to freak yourself out too badly about things.

"Don't tell her, I want her to notice on her own. Also, Max insisted, claimed that he had enough of my stuff. I swear he loves Leah more than me," you huffed. It wasn't true annoyance, in fact, you were glad that Max loved Leah so much.

You wanted a family with her, but you didn't know if she wanted that too. Leah had been nervous at first around Max, claiming that she wasn't great with kids. You knew that was far from the truth now. She had a better maternal instinct than you did, and you had dreamed of being a mother since you were a baby yourself. A large part of your family had always been very traditional, so for a long time, you thought it was your only option. You were older and knew better now, and it was seeing how the world changed made you feel good about bringing a new life into it.

"Alright little man, we've got places to be," you told Max. He gave Kim and Leah big kisses goodbye, and made them promise to give Alessia and Beth some too. Max happily followed you over to where the other kids and their parents were waiting. He was a social butterfly, so he managed to make friends with several of the children around him.

He was lost in his own little world until Leah and the other players came. Immediately, he flocked to your girlfriend. Leah held his hand in hers, and you knew she wouldn't let go for anything. You stood back a bit, and snapped a picture of them talking to each other as both teams began to line up. You wouldn't post it, but you'd keep it for yourself and Leah to look back on later.

"Oi, Max is gonna stay on the bench, okay?" Leah shouted. You gave her a thumbs up. You found your spot in the friends and family section right by the bench just in case Max needed something. You filmed Leah walking Max out, and just how obvious it was that she cared for him. Those videos did go to your story, but it didn't seem odd for you to post Leah in the lineup. Everybody knew about your relationship, and a few dedicated fans even knew about her little adventures with Max whenever you managed to get him for an off weekend.

…

"We probably could have taken him for tonight," Leah said as she watched your parents drive off with Max. She had held onto him all throughout the post-game celebrations. Leah even managed to talk your parents into going out for dinner just so that she could stay close to your nephew.

"Leah, I'd hate to burst your bubble, but we're second to my parents. That boy loves his Nanny and Papa," you told her. Leah knew that it was true. He may have asked to sit with Leah, but he had been talking your parents' ears off all night. Still, you hadn't missed the way that both Max and Leah seemed to lean into each other for comfort.

"Do you ever think that we'd make good parents?" Leah asked you. She leaned her head against your shoulder, eyes fixed on the night sky ahead of you. You could hear the apprehension in her voice, like she was afraid that you'd reject the ide of becoming a mother with Leah. Since the two of you had gotten serious about each other and your relationship, there wasn't a single person in the world that you could think to have a child with other than her.

"I don't know about myself, but you'll be a great mother. Nobody will do everything right, but I think that you'd probably come the closest," you told her. Leah lifted her head up and turned you around to face her. "I think that you could do good enough for the both of us."

"You sound fucking mental to me right now. Seriously, you're the most loving and caring woman that I know. If it's about Max, he just thinks that I'm cool. I can't even take care of myself without you, but you'd be fine without me," Leah said. She sounded so sure that you had to believe her, even if it was just a little bit. "I'd have a baby with you right now if I could."

"Well, I will be out for quite a while. There's still another whole surgery that I need and the physical therapy for it. What if we waited until the last surgery and then started trying?" you asked. Leah seemed a bit surprised, but you could tell that it wasn't a bad thing. "There's no rush to even think about it. I just thought that maybe it was something to throw out there."

"Yes," Leah answered quickly. Now, it was your turn for the shock to settle in. "I want to have a child with you, and this seems like the way to go. We don't have to tell anybody until it takes, and I mean, it's kind of perfect anyway. And if you decide that you don't want to go back at the end of your injury, you won't have to scramble around trying to find your place. I'll even step back from some things to really help out because I don't want you to feel alone for a second."

"Leah, this is a big step. Promise me that you won't get cold feet." You didn't mean to sound to scared, but Leah comforted you anyway.

"Never, I'd be an idiot to even consider it. You don't even know how lucky I feel to wake up next to you everyday. And the idea of having you and a baby? Babe, I'm over the moon already. Now, let's get home so that we can start on the process," Leah said as she grabbed your hand.

"I'm not sure that's gonna work," you laughed as Leah pulled you along.

"Simulation, it's very important!" Leah exclaimed. You continued laughing as she just scooped you into her arms and sprinted to get you into the car.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 9: The One Where You Choose Your Own Brazilian Adventure

My planned post – the “In Dedication of JVN” one where I fangirl over Jonathan Van Ness and what a fun and interesting piece of the Lukola puzzle he is – was derailed today because I was once again asked about Brazil. Well, more specifically, I was asked about whether I thought we were ever going to get those steamy, hopefully X-rated pictures, from Brazil. There’s pictures?!

In truth, I thought we’d collectively squeezed that grapefruit dry and left the rind somewhere between Italy and the Glamour Awards.

Alas, here I am writing about Brazil.

It’s funny because I’ve never thought much about Brazil. I know, I know! How could I possibly type those words without my nose growing six inches in front of my face? Well, it’s because it was always Australia that intrigued me. More on that later…

So why exactly do we believe there are pictures from Brazil? And, why do we think they are going to prove some kind of hot affair between Luke and Nicola? This theory is likely fueled by rumor; rumor born from how Luke and Nicola behaved towards each other while they were in Brazil.

I thought it would be fun to play a little game of “Choose Your Own Adventure” to determine if we’re ever going to see these alleged pictures. And, yes, I will be a very sarcastic bitch when doing this.

Before I start, though, I want to give a quick shout out to my dear friend, whom I shall call The-One-Who-Drops-Random-Pics-Into-Our-Group-Chat-and-Lets-Us-Sweat-Over-Them-for-Atleast-Three-Minutes-Before-Finally-Explaining-Them. She was a wealth of information about Brazil and even had a nice mother-daughter chat with me about the significance of a clean-shaven face (pardon me for never having dated a bearded man, which is odd because I find facial hair quite attractive).

Now, gather ‘round and I shall give you a little prologue to our adventure!

I’m sure most of you already know all about Brazil. In fact, many of you are probably self-described experts at this point. But, for those who are new here, let me go ahead and light the candles and set the ambiance for you. 

On May 19, Luke and Nicola were shuttled off to do their beach photoshoot in Brazil. You know, the one where Nicola was walking the dogs; Luke was strumming the guitar; Nicola was being all girlfriend-like fixing Luke’s jacket; Luke was gazing up at Nicola at the pub while she was touching his neck; and then there was that moment when we all thought they might kiss. Yeah, all that plus Luke’s scruffy face from the week prior suddenly appeared clean-shaven. Apparently, you can never be too “Casual” when you’re headed down south (pun intended – as was that Chappell Roan reference). And, about now is where I’ll “insert disclaimer that this is speculation only.”

The following day, we had the actual premiere. I’m not sure what those two were up to before the premiere but both were un-fucking-hinged by the time they made it to the red carpet. We had angel-face Nicola looking up at Luke like he had created the universe and Luke answering Nicola’s Little Red Riding Hood vibe with one sexy ass Big Bad Wolf persona. I mean, the bits and bobs that came out of Luke’s mouth that day! “There’s a carriage downstairs.” “I mean, in this heat, all I’m thinking about is when we didn’t have to wear clothes ‘cos that would be quite nice right now.” “I mean the show is proof that it is [okay to kiss your friends].” With Nicola whispering back, “This is true.” Then there was Luke taking that mic without taking his eyes off Nicola. We had Luke helping Nicola put on her bracelets because – God forbid! – she let go of him for 30 seconds to do it her fucking self. And, let’s not forget about the two of them holding on to each other behind that woman’s back (I’m sorry, I don’t recall her name and I’m too lazy to look it up – mainly, because I’m certain most of you don’t really care about that other woman).

We were also given snippets of Luke and Nicola at the premiere afterparty, looking like two people who, at a minimum, enjoyed each other’s company. They greeted fans outside the venue and, as they walked away together, Nicola seemingly put her hand on Luke’s lower back as if to guide him in the right direction (go ahead – let your imagination run wild – it’s a great opening for a FanFic).

Then, throw in the beach walk with the giant security guard; the interview where Nicola was wearing the fluffy pink skirt and the two of them talked about Chappell Roan’s “Kaleidoscope” (seriously, those two were listening to that song together?); Nicola couldn’t stop giggling about the “meat” of the Carriage Scene; and Luke appeared perhaps a smidge too interested in Nicola’s answer about what she looks for in a man (which fit perfectly into Luke’s “Like, how nice is it when someone notices, like, your kindness or your sense of humor?”). And, we can’t ignore them seemingly sharing a tea cup and Luke reaching for Nicola’s spoon after she’d sampled a dish. Don’t even get me started on over-analyzing Luke’s “manspread” that day.

Let’s also not forget about the rumor portion of this Brazilian escapade – because that is what fuels the sexy hot pictures theory and the central plot of our storied adventure.

Rumor has it Luke and Nicola spent a lot of time with each other in Brazil.

By themselves.

In one or the other’s room.

On the beach.

By the pool.

There were also rumors of them making out in the hotel hallway.

The only evidence we have of any “alone time” are some pictures that were dumped on X of them dining together alone, without any other members of their team.

Now that the backdrop has been set, let’s go on my little adventure.

During the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, I was bored out of my mind. I grew up in the countryside. No neighbors. No sidewalks. No cable! Just fields, wooded areas, and my two sisters, both of whom had no interest in entertaining me that summer. My mother suggested I read. After boredom had dug itself so far into my being that I was left with no choice but to read, I finally ventured over to the bookshelf and grabbed the thinnest book I could find. It was a “Choose Your Own Adventure.”

If you don’t know what a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book is, then you (and your children) are missing out. Basically, you play the role of the protagonist and make choices to determine the outcome of your story. Sometimes you make the right choice and survive; other times you make the wrong choice and get turned into a little mouse that may or may not be eaten by a cat.

Here we go.

As the protagonist of our story, you are:

THE EMPLOYEE

You’re an employee of the hotel Nicola and Luke stayed at while in Brazil. You have sworn to maintain the privacy of hotel guests; you’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement of sorts to protect the privacy of guests, especially since you have access to VIP areas. You can be a housekeeper, a watchman, a concierge, a seven-foot-tall security guard, whatever tickles your fancy. Doesn’t matter – you’re all bound by the same provisions to protect the privacy of the hotel’s guests. But, in this story, let’s say you’re the housekeeper because – what’s that old saying – the only person who knows everything going on in the house is the maid?

You’re cleaning Nicola’s room and you find lots of signs of a man being in the room. In fact, you find a coat that looks exactly like the one Luke was wearing the night of the premiere. Oh my. As you’re leaving, you see two people making out in the hallway – headed straight towards the room you’re just leaving!  It looks like Nicola and Luke. What do you do?

Choice A: Well, you’re a pervy housekeeper so you pull your phone out and start taking pictures. I mean, those two are so into each other, they don’t even notice. You then run and play show-and-tell with your friends because you can’t keep a damn secret. Unfortunately for you, that gossip spreads faster than lice in a preschool, and hotel management tracks your ass down because, guess what, your friends can’t keep a secret either. So, congratulations on being fired. You’re meeting with the lawyers is first thing in the morning. Oh, we also need your phone and the names of all your friends.

Choice B: You respect the privacy of Nicola and Luke and simply turn and walk the opposite direction. Taking photos of them never even crossed your mind! But, damn, what a good story to tell your bestie when you get home, even if you don’t have “receipts.”

THE VIP GUEST

You’re a random guest staying at the hotel. In fact, you’re a random VIP guest staying on the same floor as Nicola and Luke. When you checked in, you signed a non-disclosure agreement. I mean, you want your privacy protected, too! And, heck, NDAs are thrown out like candy these days. You’ve seen so many at this point, you don’t even bother to read them.

You take the elevator up to your floor and, as you step into the hallway, you’re confronted with – goddammit, there’s two motherfuckers all over each other! The guy is trying to slide his key into the door, but the woman’s dress is so awkwardly large, he can’t seem to find the right slot! You realize the people look a lot like those two stars from Bridgerton, and your best friend, Effie, is a huge fan! What do you do?

Choice A: You can’t believe Effie is missing out on this excitement so, of course, you pull your phone out and start taking pictures!! I mean, that NDA you signed didn’t even cross your mind three minutes later when you were forwarding the pictures to Effie! And, because you can’t control what Effie does, she forwards the pictures to all her Bridgie buddies. The next morning you awaken to find the pictures all over X. Oopsie. You feel slightly guilty, and a bit peeved at Effie – but only until you’ve had your morning coffee.

Choice B: You take people’s privacy very seriously. Well, maybe you don’t take it that seriously, but it would be too difficult to dig your phone out of your handbag to take pictures. And, to be honest, Effie is the huge fan, not you. Plus, it seems the guy finally got that door open and damn, based on the sounds of it, he's unlocked something magical. Oh well. You’ll call Effie in the morning to tell her your story, if you remember it.

THE RANDOM STRANGER

You’re a random stranger taking an evening stroll along the beach. You love the sound of the ocean. It’s so peaceful…the sound of the waves… Ugh, what is that noise?! It sounds like – shit, it is! – two people snogging in a cabana about 10 yards away from you. Wait a minute – is that? Yeah, you think it could be! I mean, you were just at the Bridgerton premiere last night! What do you do? Without hesitation, you pull out your phone!

Choice A: You creep behind an umbrella and zoom in as close as possible with your camera! I mean, shite! You can’t believe this! How long have you been filming?  Probably longer than necessary but who cares? Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, perhaps a seven-foot-tall presence, and you slowly turn around. Fuck! Who’s this guy?! He takes your phone, drops it to the ground, and stomps on it, shattering its insides.  Asshole.  You bend down to pick up the phone, but the man taps your shoulder and shakes his head, “No.” Well, umm, yeah, I guess you best be leaving.

Choice B: You use your camera to zoom in on the couple. Snap! Snap! Snap! Then you get the FUCK OUT OF THERE! You tell yourself you don’t look suspicious at all, even though you’re practically running and your heart is about to pound its way out of your chest! Oh, thank God, you’ve made it to your car. You start it up and, like I said, YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! You get home and take a look at the photos! Goldmine! So, should you drop them on X? Maybe be a little see-you-next-Tuesday and try to sell them to Nicola or Luke’s teams? But, hell, you don’t even know where to start with that! Or, should you just pocket them for your own pleasure? You tell me….

The End.

Yes, I am absolutely being a facetious little ass! The above scenarios were for (the most part) my own entertainment. I mean, there are so many situations where these alleged pictures could exist (these playful ones don’t even scratch the surface). But, do the pictures exist?

If we’re being logical here, you would think that, if anyone in the general public were in possession of these alleged sexy-time pictures of Luke and Nicola, or had seen them, it would be all over social media at this point. I mean, ALL OVER. So, what can we deduce from the fact that they aren’t?

That the pictures probably don’t exist. Don’t shoot the messenger! Seriously, watch where you point that thing!

But, let’s say pictures did exist. Who is the most likely person to dump them on, say, X? The hotel employee, the VIP guest, or the random stranger? I would place money on the random stranger, followed by the VIP guest. The hotel employee, who probably has the most access to VIP guests but the strongest legal barriers, would be the least likely to photo dump. What is the likelihood that someone from one of these three groups – for example, a random stranger – (a) had pictures of Luke and Nicola, (b) didn’t drop them on social media, and/or (c) didn’t share them with someone who dropped them on social media?

I’m all for a good conspiracy theory but I find this one to be a hard pill to swallow.

Maybe one person can act as a lockbox for this kind of secret, but when you start including more people, the ability to keep something (like illicit photographs of two celebrities) out of the public eye diminishes rapidly.

Remember what Benjamin Franklin said, “Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

Unfortunately, this quote is incredibly accurate. The general public cannot keep secrets.

If the pictures exist, they are most likely in the possession of Luke and/or Nicola’s team (of lawyers). So, unless they’re going to sneak them on to X for giggles (I mean, it’s been known to happen), you’re probably never going to see them – and that’s assuming they even exist.

However, if you’re the housekeeper from our first adventure and you happen to have some candid photographs you’re just dying to share, just find yourself a printer – one that cannot easily be linked back to you – and print them out. Then, “accidently” drop them at the feet of someone who knows exactly what they are, and then give them enough time to take their own photos of them and send them to their best friend’s brother’s sister-in-law’s third cousin’s wife’s neighbor, who could drop them on X for us. I mean, you should be golden with seven degrees of separation.

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[sematarygirls]

      BOYFRIEND!RAFE x DEPRESSED!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ depression, rafe gives reader a bath, but it's not sexual, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint at the beginning

NOTES .ᐟ this isn't my best work, but i'm writing it more for comfort than anything else, and i wanted to post it just in case anyone out there is also struggling and could use it <3

Something was up, and Rafe could tell. You were usually so clingy, wanting to spend every moment with him, and he was not complaining by any means. He loved having his girl at his side, showing her off at every occasion, but it had been almost two weeks since he last saw you, which was so very out of the ordinary.

You would answer his texts at first, always coming up with some excuse for why you couldn't see him. First, you were sick. He offered to come over and take care of you, but you'd insisted that you didn't want him to catch whatever you had, so he eventually acquiesced and settled on checking in on you periodically.

But then, your responses slowly became more and more infrequent. Rafe was at a loss. Had he done something to upset you? Why were you being so cold and distant? He couldn't think of any fights you two had recently. Everything seemed perfect until you started pulling away out of the blue.

He texted you to tell you he was coming over, but you hadn't seen it by the time he showed up at your house, all but pounding on the door. He was a little angry, very annoyed, and more than a bit jealous. Were you with some other guy in there? Is that why you hadn't been answering him.

Those feelings immediately dissipated, however, when the door slowly creaked open and you peeked out. Your hair was tangled and greasy, haphazardly thrown up and out of the way. You had dark circles under your eyes and a small frown on your face, your brows pinching when you saw him.

His expression softened as he softly murmured your name. You stepped back, allowing him inside, and he shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving your disheveled form. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asked gently, approaching you like he would a skiddish animal.

"You shouldn't have come," you said quietly, your gaze downcast. You were embarrassed that he was seeing you like this. The whole reason you'd been avoiding him was so he wouldn't see this part of you—the part that struggled to get out of bed whenever a major depressive episode hit.

He ignored your words, stepping closer and tilting your chin up, so he could look at you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he coaxed softly. "Is this why you've been dodging my calls and texts?"

You nodded slowly, feeling guilty. You hadn't meant to ignore him, but texting people had become a chore as of late. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, to have to explain why you were acting so off. You just wanted to shut out the world and wallow in your misery.

He sighed, his thumbs coming up to caress your cheeks gently. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to take away all your sorrow and make you happy again. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I just- I didn't want you to see me like this," you said softly. "I look like shit. It's gross and pathetic..."

"Hey, don't say that shit about yourself, alright?" he said firmly. "You're beautiful, always, and you're not pathetic. You're going through a hard time and that's okay. I'm here for you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at his words. He was so gentle, so understanding and patient. He was perfect, and you were... you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna run you a warm bath, okay? Gonna wash your hair and get you all cleaned up."

"You don't have to do that," you said quietly. You didn't want to be a burden, for him to feel like he had to take care of you just because you were dating.

"I know that, but I want to, alright? Just-Just let me take care of you, yeah?" He stared at you expectantly, waiting until you gave him a reluctant nod before he took your hand and pulled you toward the bathroom. "Sit," he ordered, pointing to the lowered toilet seat.

You complied, sitting and watching him as he turned the water on, testing the temperature with his hand and adjusting it until it was just the way he knew you liked it before he flipped the drain stopper. He poured in some of your favorite scented bubble bath, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

He turned back to you, kneeling down to take your hands in his. "Okay baby, let's get you undressed and in the tub, yeah? I'll wash your hair for you."

You chewed your lip nervously, looking at him with uncertainty. You were hardly in any shape to be perceived by anyone, let alone your perfect boyfriend. You couldnt remember the last time you shaved your body or did any personal grooming for that matter. You'd just been so physically and mentally drained as of late.

He cupped your cheek, gently using his thumb to pull your lower lip from your teeth. He hated when you did that, always saying you were ruining your pretty lips. "You're always gorgeous to me," he reassured you. "I don't care what you look like. Right now, I just wanna take care of my girl, alright?"

You hesitated but nodded. "Okay," you said softly. You knew he was just trying to help, and you also knew you desperately needed your hair washed before it reached the point of no return. You'd hated how bad you'd let it get, but you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt the attention and effort that detangling and washing would entail.

With careful movements, Rafe helped ease your shirt over your head, revealing your bare skin to his gaze. His expression was non judgemental, his touch reverent as he helped you out of your clothes. "You're doing so good, baby," he murmured, his words soothing the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach. "In you go," he said, once you were finally out of your dirty clothes.

You stepped into the warm bath, the hot water and calming smell helping you relax a fraction. You pulled your knees to your chest with a soft sigh. You were so sensitive and vulnerable in that moment, and Rafe's kindness made your chest tighten and your eyes mist.

He smiled softly at you, the picture of a loyal, caring boyfriend. He would do anything for you. "There you go, sweetheart. Gonna feel so much better after a nice long bath." He knelt beside the tub, running his hand over your hunched back soothingly for a few moments.

He let you get adjusted and relaxed before reaching for your hair tie, gently pulling it out and revealing your tangled hair. You closed your eyes, waiting for some remark about how you need to take better care of yourself or how your hair was a mess, but it never came. "Alright baby, let's get this pretty hair washed for you," was all he said, his tone soft and comforting. "Can you lean back for me?"

You nodded, unfurling yourself from your curled up position and leaning back, letting your hair soak up the water. "There you go," he murmured, making sure your hair was thoroughly wetted before helping you sit back up straight. He reached for the conditioner, coating your hair in an ungodly amount and running it through the strands as best he could to help soften your hair and make it easier to detangle before grabbing a wide tooth comb. "This might hurt a little, baby. I'm sorry, but you'll feel so much better when we're all done."

He worked meticulously, starting at the ends and slowly, carefully working out each knot and tangle, murmuring soft apologies whenever he hit a bad one that tugged at your scalp. He had experience with this kind of thing, having helped Wheezie with her hair a lot when she was a kid. He was so gentle and patient, making sure he didn't pull too hard.

It made you grateful because if you were doing this yourself, you already knew you would've gotten frustrated and started practically ripping your hair out as you roughly yanked the comb through your hair until you were in tears.

The fact that he regarded you with a tenderness and compassion you didn't even award yourself made your heart swell with love, but it also made guilt tug at you. This was the man that you'd been ignoring—this man that was so attentive and loved you so much.

"You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but you're being so brave for me. I'm so proud of you," he said gently, continuing to work through your hair. He didn't show any signs that he was getting frustrated or annoyed, he just continued to hold himself with pure adoration and care for you.

His sweet words made tears well up in your eyes. You didn't understand how you could ever deserve someone like him, someone who loved you completely and unconditionally. His words of assurance were something you'd desperately needed to hear after weeks of listening to your own brain demean and demoralize you.

"There we go, sweetheart. All done. You did so well," he praised you gently as he finally finished up, running the comb through the last of the tangles. He helped you lean back, rinsing the conditioner. He made sure to get all the excess product out before helping you sit back up, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, lathering it in his hands and applying it into your scalp. He washed it out and applied more until it started to froth up, signaling that your hair was finally getting clean.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly as he worked the shampoo into your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. You felt guilty for a lot of things, for ignoring him, for making him spend his time on you like this, for being this way in the first place. Your brain had convinced you that you were a burden on everyone around you, and you hated the thought of Rafe having to put up with you when he could have any other normal girl.

His hands stilled in your hair, and he tiled your head so you were looking at him. His expression was serious, deadly so, and for a moment, you thought he was mad at you. "Don't. Don't you ever apologize, okay? You've got absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You understand me?"

You nodded, his words and actions meaning more to you than he could ever know. He always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel better. He made you feel important and loved, and you needed that, especially right now. "Thank you."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile spreading across his handsome features. "You don't need to thank me, baby. Caring for you is the easiest thing in the world. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes—so beautiful, inside and out."

After throughly massaging your scalp, he washed out the shampoo, applying a final layer of conditioner to ensure your hair stayed soft and retained moisture. "Do you wanna wash your body, or do you want me to?" He asked gently. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, and if you would be too embarrassed with him touching you like that, he respected it.

"I can- um- I can do it," you said quietly. He had already done so much for you already, and as much as you loved being doted on and cared for, it didn't erase the nerves and insecurity that were swirling through your mind.

"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time. I'm right here if you need anything at all," he reassured you. You washed up and rinsed the conditioner out of your hair, the water uncomfortably cold by the time you were done since detangling had taken forever.

Rafe was ready with a towel by the time you were finished. "Come on, baby, let's get you out. You're probably freezing," he said, helping you up and wrapping the towel around you, rubbing the material against your skin to help warm you up before grabbing a separate towel to help you dry off your hair.

You let him take care of you, drying you off before steering you to your bedroom to get dressed. He knew your drawer set up by heart, having helped you put your clean clothes away more than once. "You really don't have to do all that," you mumbled, watching him carefully choose some comfortable, clean clothes for you.

"I already told you that I want to," he said firmly, plucking out your favorite pajamas. "Now, we're gonna get you dressed and settle in on the couch because we gotta get you out of this bed. It's not good for you to stay in it all day," he told you, helping you into your clean clothes. You felt a little silly being assisted getting dressed and undressed, but you were so appreciative that he cared enough about you to help you like this.

"Sorry for the... mess," you said, wincing as you glanced around at your dirty room. It looked like a disaster area, and you only just now seemed to clock how bad it was.

"I already told you to quit apologizing," he gently scolded you. "We can clean it up later, together, but right now, we're going to go watch some TV and get some food in you, okay?"

You nodded, mustering a small smile. "I love you, Rafe," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too, baby, so so much," he murmured. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You inhaled his scent, a smell that was distinctly his and always seemed to calm and relax you, his tight grip on you serving to ground you in that moment, reminding you that there are people who cherish you even in your darkest days.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

[tjwritesfanfics]

Three's company (Spencer Reid & Chip Taylor)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (ft. Chip Taylor)

Summary: Spencer finally says yes to your request for a threesome and you choose his twin brother, Chip.

Rating: Mature 18+ only

Warning: Threesome, oral (male receiving), masturbation, p in v sex (Unprotected. Guys you know the drill. Be safe)

Words: 983 (Not a long smut sorry)

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Other MGG Characters Masterlist

“You can tell me”

“No, I really don’t think I can.”

Spencer ran his fingers over the skin of your hip, enjoying the view of you post orgasm. The topic of different things to try in bed came up and when you thought about it, you knew you couldn’t bring up your wildest dream… again.

Spencer doesn’t share well. He never really has, but when you asked to have a threesome he hesitated and when he said he would think about it, but it depended on who it was, and you said his twin brother, he flipped.

“No way! I won’t share you with my brother.”

His words echoing in your head even now when your brain is on a high from the new thing Spencer learned to do with his tongue. Sometimes bringing up the idea of watching porn with your boyfriend was beneficial.

“Is it the threesome thing?” Your silence was enough of an answer for him. You could see him enter a deep state of thought, genuinely thinking of if he wants to share you with not only another person, but his own brother. His TWIN brother. The men in his family were really good at giving, a fact he was unhappy to know about his father and brother, and what if Chip was better than him? 

Though he doesn’t know what makes you weak in the knees. He could try with all his might, but Spencer would be the end for you… Right?

In the end he knew he would give into your desire, even if he wasn’t that comfortable with it, because Spencer would give you the moon and the stars if he could.

hich is how he found himself agreeing to your request. Your squeal of happiness was the immediate reassurance that he made the right decision, but then a few days later when you were on your knees, in HIS favorite purple lingerie no less, sucking on his brother’s dick, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“After all that happened to you, Chippy, I just want you to feel worshiped.” Was the reasoning you gave to Chip as you slid down to your knees in front of him, wiggling your hips for Spencer’s view from where he sat in the recliner you requested be in the room, and undoing Chip’s jeans.

You whimpered at how hard he was already, the tip a bright red. And without warning you had swallowed Chip whole, his brother’s head falling back and letting out a loud moan.

Spencer smirked a little at the sight, knowing how warm and wet your mouth was and what it was like to experience it for the first time, despite the little green monster sitting on his shoulder telling him that he should tie Chip up and make him watch as Spencer fucked his woman into submission.

But all he could do was palm his erection to relieve any form of pressure. He told you that he would go along with this and do as you wanted.

And right now you wanted to devour his brother’s cock while he seemed to lose his mind.

“Oh fuck!” Chip moaned, his hands searching for a perch in your hair, gripping harshly which caused you to moan around him, the vibrations sending him over the edge, his cum spilling into your mouth.

You pulled back, swallowing what you could before turning to Spencer, opening your mouth to show him that you finished your meal.

“My good girl always knows how to please, huh Chip?”

Chip nodded, his cheeks flushing at the authoritative voice that came from his twin. While they were the same in looks and everything, they were also so different. Spencer was smart and Chip was a bit dumb, sweet, but dumb.

And it seems that they were also different in the bedroom as well, Spencer seeming to stay in complete control despite the little minx currently crawling towards him and crawling into his lap.

And Chip? He came so fast that it was almost embarrassing, but no one had ever had their mouth on his dick before. He wasn’t used to the sensation.

But one thing was for certain, he wanted more. Though it was Spencer’s one rule, no fucking his woman, he wanted to defy his brother and have you.

He wouldn’t, because he respected Spencer, but god did he want to. Just the thought of taking your tight little pussy had him hard again.

Your mewl pulled Chip out of his thoughts, his eyes seeing that Spencer had already started what he wanted to do, panties of the lingerie pushed aside, his brother’s cock buried deep inside of your cunt as you rode him with all your might, which even to Chip he could tell that it wasn’t for you.

Spencer’s smile said that he noticed Chip’s stare and as if it was what he was waiting for he planted his feet firmly on the ground and fucked up into you. You screamed at the sudden force, falling forward and submitting to Spener’s assault.

Chip couldn’t stand it anymore as he wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping in time with his brother’s trusts. Faster and deeper, Chip couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Spencer’s cock disappeared, the wet slick of your pussy glistening in the dim light.

The three of you moan in sync, the sensation becoming too much to handle. Chip came first, his cum spurting from his tip and over the floor, you shortly after, Spencer’s assault of your G-spot having you seeing stars.

A few more thrusts and Spencer came deep inside of you, painting your insides white with his release.

As much as he hated to admit it… That was the hottest thing the two of you have done in the bedroom in a long while.

Maybe Chip can join again, but only on his terms.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[retroaria]

★ unlikely trio

⟡ ݁₊ what it was like working with osamu dazai and chuuya nakahara as port mafia operatives ₊ .⟡

platonic!dazai + chuuya x gn!reader | this is definitely based on 15-18 y/o dazai and chuuya! they are both executives and you’re under them but still high ranking. use of y/n btw. this is short i just wanted to do some silly hc's for my favorite boys :)

• | BSD M.LIST | reblogs are apprectiated! | •

⋆˙⟡ chuuya hates to make you the mediator, but dazai insists. when these two are locked in on one upping each others level of arrogant asshole, dazai seeks you out to be the final voice of reason just so he can see which of them will be scolded the most - he knows they’re both being stupid. because of his vulgarity, chuuya usually gets the shorter end of the stick in these competitions (competitions that exist only in dazai’s head btw)

D: “Did you see that!? Chuuya just bit me!”

C: “I did not bite you, i’m not some kind of wild animal.”

D: “No, I think you’re a creature far more sinister actually…”

C: “If you don’t shut the hell up I’ll actually bite your head off.”

D: “You see! Y/n! Someone has to reprimand this feral beast.”

Y/N: “Chuu~ you can’t just say you’re gonna bite his head off…”

C: “HE STARTED IT AND HE LIED!”

D: “My accusation doesn’t seem too far off for someone who just threatened to orally behead me, read the room Nakahara.”

⋆˙⟡ pushing and shoving each other to get through the doorway first. you or chuuya usually assume the role of line leader but when it comes to making an entrance dazai can’t help but weasel his way in there with an annoying amount of force. this doesn’t necessarily pertain to you, as dazai does this when it’s just him and chuuya as well…or anyone really - he’s gotta make a grand entrance.

⋆˙⟡ letting you win at arcade games just so chuuya feels like the only one who couldn’t beat him.

⋆˙⟡ you being the only thing that could get those two to sit down and have a normal meal together. they know you mean business when you invite them out to eat so they put their big boy pants on.

⋆˙⟡ you and dazai coming up with dangerous but efficient plans that chuuya spends the entirety of the mission refuting. alternatively: you and chuuya coming up with safe and well thought out plans that dazai spends the entirety of the mission ruining.

⋆˙⟡ they both go to you to talk about their troubles id think, although dazai does it in a much more sly manner; not really telling you anything but just wanting to have someone to talk to. chuuya really lets it all out on you, he’s a a bit of a trauma dumper when he feels he can be. sometimes one of them will walk in on you when you’re with the other and they both look at you feeling so betrayed.

D: “I can’t believe you double booked…today is MY DAY.”

C: “Shut it freak, I had plans with them first you’re such a little brat.”

D: “So cold…I’ll have you know I was invited.”

⋆˙⟡ dazai spends a lot of time trying to get you to understand the way he thinks. he’s totally emotionally and mentally stunted though, so he ends up speaking in riddles and not getting his point across as smooth as he’d like to sometimes. chuuya doesn’t explain his thought process to you at all and then gets mad when both dazai and you aren’t getting what he’s putting down.

⋆˙⟡ they both feel the need to get your opinion on big decisions they might be making concerning operations. dazai will dance around his proposals and take in your reactions based on the little info he gives you. chuuya tells you the situation straight up and asks what you would do if you were him.

⋆˙⟡ dazai feels that you need very little protection and can handle things on your own, his logic is that you couldn’t have gotten as far as you did if you weren’t capable. chuuya sees you as one of his valued subordinates and will go out of his way to ensure your safety (though he doesn’t do that for anyone else but if you died who else would protect him from dazai’s emotional abuse?)

[mixelation]

i got up to do a chore and then was like "no, i should write down this sentence first" and then wrote a 700 word intro to "deidara is minato's oops baby" i guess

Our story, dear reader, starts like many do: with tragedy. 

At the height of the Third Shinobi War, Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina come to an agreement. Whenever Minato is out of the village on a long-term mission, they are both free to have sex with whomever they please. 

They refine this agreement multiple times over the years, to keep the both of them comfortable and happy. They make rules to prevent emotional attachments. They both commit to their due diligence in screening for STIs and preventing pregnancies. 

There is no rule against having sex with enemy ninja. Six months out from his marriage, Minato sleeps with an Iwa missing-nin. Her name is Juri, but Minato never learns this. She’s the one who makes the proposition, and he thinks it’s a bit sexy, to sleep with the enemy. Juri enjoys the thrill of fucking the man that her former village, now her most hated enemy, is most afraid of. 

The condom breaks. Juri insists she knows the contraceptive jutsu, and she definitely doesn’t want to be pregnant, on account of currently being on the run from her home village. Minato hedges and asks her to do the jutsu in front of him just to be sure, and she acquiesces. They part on good terms and do not give the other any way to contact each other. 

Minato goes home and reports the broken condom to his fiancée, but neither of them give the incident much worry. The contraceptive jutsu is easy, and Minato saw her do it, and also what are the chances that this random woman would get pregnant from this one hook up?

Kushina also thinks sleeping with the enemy is kind of sexy. They roleplay it a few times and otherwise never think of Juri again. 

What neither of them know is that Juri has a bloodline limit which affects her chakra. What Juri herself doesn’t even know, is that she needs specific adjustments to the contraceptive jutsu to accommodate her bloodline limit. It’s never come up before. She’s never had a condom break. 

Half a year later, Minato and Kushina are married, and Juri is recaptured by Iwa. 

“You can’t execute me,” she insists. “I’m pregnant. Don’t you want more explosion release babies?”

She does not reveal the identity of the father. This seems like it could get her special treatment, or it might get both her and her baby killed. She decides not to risk it. 

For the first few years of his life, little Deidara has an average upbringing. Juri is under constant surveillance, but the war has been costly and Iwa does need more babies. That Deidara is healthy and demonstrates a strong aptitude for shinobi skills is a boon to Iwa and a boon to Juri. 

The Yellow Flash becomes Hokage, and Deidara begins ninja training years early. Iwa insists Juri have more children. They pick out men for her. 

To breed me like a dog, Juri thinks, grinding her teeth. No thanks!

She leaves the village again. She does give some thought into bringing Deidara with her, but ultimately concludes her chances of survival will be higher without him. 

Fuck Iwa, she thinks, and on her first day as a free woman, she sends a message to Konoha. 

Juri does not survive the week. Uzumaki Kushina and her newborn baby Naruto, in an unrelated incident you may know something about, also do not survive the week. Konoha is plunged into chaos, and the message from Juri ends up buried in a report that the grieving Yellow Flash doesn’t read. 

The start to this story, as you can see, dear reader, is very sad. We are left with three of our named characters dead. One of our survivors is overwhelmed with grief and survivor’s guilt for years to come, unable to forsake his duties to the village to properly process his loss. The other survivor is suddenly plunged into a confusing, chaotic world without a parental figure to support him and no way for such a young mind to comprehend why this is happening to him. 

But don’t worry, dear reader.  Ten years later, while shuffling through old documents in order to prepare for renegotiating a peace treaty, Namikaze Minato will find the note from Iwa no Juri, and everything will change.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Part two of my thing. Reader probably gives up at some point and just hops on doffys back. Saying something like its easier than trying to keep up with your walking speed. New problem has occurred now reader is now drowning in the soft fluffy feathers of the coat. But its probably better to deal with that over getting lost,running into his legs or booty all the time. Guarantee reader gets accidentally bounced back into the floor each time theyve ran into him. Just like i guarantee doffy sometimes thinks reader is bumping into him on purpose or he does actually stop suddenly just to tease them 🐦‍⬛

🐦‍⬛anon

You. Have deserved a little drabble. Bcs I love this idea, and YES, TOTALLY, WOULD HAPPEN, GET ON THE MAN'S BACK, HONEY. BEHOLD. A little drabble for you, 🐦‍⬛anon. Thank you for sending such great asks and ideas! 🥹 This is set in the Red Suit Doffy Fic ie North Blue Doffy x Rosinante's Wife!Reader. I hope you like it.

You fell to the floor. This time, the collision with Doflamingo's leg was too sudden, and you'd been walking three times your speed to keep up with him in the city — at one point, you’d started to pant because you started jogging to keep up with him.

Doflamingo looked over his shoulder. He noticed you lying on the ground on your elbows, groaning as your butt hurt.

He snorted.

The bastard.

Snorted.

“Sorry,” he said, flashing you his wide, large grin, not looking sorry at all. You were sure that this time, the bastard stopped on purpose. In fact, you were sure that this entire day, he’d stopped on purpose randomly just so your face would bump into the back of his upper thigh.

“That's it!” you shrieked, your shout startling the ignorant citizens walking down the street of the town. “I’ve had it with you! And your stupid long legs!”

Doflamingo was still smiling, even as he turned to you, looking down at you. “It’s not my fault you’re so short.” He reached down with his arm — he didn't even have to bend down — and patted your head condescendingly. “And slow.”

You growled. You knew he wouldn’t let you walk around town alone, and it would be a hassle if you got lost because he decided to walk ahead without checking that you were following him. For such a tall man, he could disappear unnervingly easily from sight.

“Look at you,” he cooed, the tips of his fingers ruffling your hair slightly, like you were a pet. “Already panting just from some walking.”

“Your walking steps are three times the width of mine!” you said, slapping at his wrist. Doflamingo chuckled. “And your legs are as tall as my entire body!”

“Actually, my legs are taller than you,” said Doflamingo, smiling widely at you.

You inhaled, your fists clenching, and you were about to punch him in the groin — it would be easy enough �� or his knee, which would also be easy enough. Whether your punch would reach him was another thing entirely.

This time, Doflamingo did bend down, his upper body and face taking up your entire vision, his hands in the pockets of his red suit pants, his grin devilish and wide as an evil cat's.

“Well, you can always let me carry you in my arms like the spoiled thing you are. I wouldn’t mind.”

Your eyes widened. Oh. So that was his plan. You watched him, and his face. He was certain he'd won, and you feared that, too, until...

Your eyes settled on his large pink coat. Then, slowly, a grin unfurled on your own face, frighteningly similar to Doflamingo's.

“Actually,” you said, “I’ll ride on your coat.”

Oh. Oh. The way Doflamingo’s face fell as he realised he couldn’t say no without making it obvious he wanted to carry you bridal style across the city for the rest of the day was priceless.

You wished you had a Photo Snail to capture the moment for eternity.

You waved your index finger at him in a motion to turn around. “Come on, you giant menace. Turn and squat a bit.”

Doflamingo’s jaw clenched. He scowled, sneered, but relented, and turned around, then squatted slightly, bending his knees. Wasting no time, you jumped as high as you could, leaping right for the huge pink feather coat — which was also bigger than you — landed on it, and started climbing your way up it. Maybe you kicked Doflamingo in the ass and gave him a light shove on his lower back as you climbed, but he couldn’t say anything to it unless he revealed his true intentions.

So, he stayed quiet — fuming all the while, you were sure — as you clambered up his pink feather coat, popped your head up over the collar, gripped onto the underlayer, and settled yourself across it.

It was extremely fluffy, the feathers soft like clouds. They tickled across your face and brushed against your nose.

“You better not be clinging to the feathers.” he grumbled. By the sound of his voice, this was definitely not how he imagined this to go. “And don’t put your shoes on it.”

You scoffed. Saints forbid his perfect coat gets dirty. But... You brushed your fingers gently over the feathery softness, feeling a smile lift on your face.

“I’m holding onto the coat. Your feathers are fine.” you assured, rolling your eyes at him. Then, you gave him a little nudge with your feet in the back as revenge for all the times you crashed into his legs facefirst today. “Go, donkey.”

“I will throw you over, woman.”

You settled your head close to his ear, and whispered. “No, you won’t.”

Doflamingo didn’t say anything. Slowly — almost as though he was being considerate of the sudden height difference and surge of height you would gain — he straightened up.

Your eyes widened as you sat on the immense height, staring at the vision of the street before you. It was amazing, and so different from how you saw it. Was this how Doflamingo saw the entire city, and all the people? No wonder he thought he was a god on earth. Anyone who was this height must think something similar.

Doflamingo started walking, the pink feathers swaying with each move of his legs. The coat was so soft and comfortable... You could fall asleep like this, your face caressed by his pink feathers. Unconsciously, your hands climbed up, your fingers settling atop Doflamingo's shoulders — thick, solid and firm.

“Thanks, Doffy.” you said.

Doflamingo chuckled. He tilted his head to the left toward where your chin sat atop his shoulder, his feathers caressing your face, swathing you in their pink plumage. He couldn’t help it. He leaned down and nuzzled your cheek.

“You welcome, darling.” he purred.

He laughed when you groaned, your face getting red. You retracted your head back into his coat.

“I’m regretting it now...” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the feathers.

Doflamingo laughed victoriously. His plan might not have worked as planned, but you were still close to him, and he was still carrying you.

“You’re not getting off this ride now!” he crowed, laughing maniacally. “So better get comfortable.”

He sauntered down the street, and the more he moved, the more you understood how he had such confidence, because you felt a swell of it slowly pouring in your gut, too.

You chuckled, and rested your face against the feathers, on his broad, firm shoulder covered by soft, pink feathers.

“Aye, sir.”

***

Thank you for the ask, 🐦‍⬛anon!

Tag list: @fanaticsnail @queenmimi2817 @daydreamer-in-training

[whysoblue2]

Random word babble you can ignore about Shamura and Kallamar, but it's kind of fun to imagine the years when Shamura was still mostly a war god but they were also a new older brother to Kallamar and how that likely manifested at first.

Gods in general are pretty known for their selfishness, so I always end up imagining Shamura being a bit overprotective with Kallamar for a little bit and especially very possessive over Kallamar in general for longer while also being both more tending/loving and more aggressive in their actions to and about Kallamar because they're still, ya know, learning to chillax.

Which ends up with Kallamar being very confused in general and even more scared but also, at least a little bit, relieved and happy to finally have a safe space in Shamura. I can also definitely see Kallamar seeing Shamura as a sibling first before Shamura saw him as a little brother, but those feelings hit Shamura HARD in the gut, they weren't prepared at all. And it's just nice to think about

Oh, you make a lot of good points and I can see it! 

And sorry for the incoming wall of text, have a suffering Kall for your journey, friend!

When I wrote the chapter about Kall, I hinted at how their relationship worked in those years they were alone. 

To me, Shamura never really wanted to be a big sibling when he met Kall. They spared him out of pity and convenience because this squidling still had some power to unlock that they could exploit in their grand scheme of killing deities to reform a new pantheon.

So why was Kall always scared and insanely good with weapons? (yeah he was definitely the hardest fight for me, like 10 times harder than Shamura so I don't know if this is common or I just sucked, but it's part of my hc now). 

The first years they were together, it was hell for Kall! Shamura was brutal in their teachings and didn't care to be gentle or compassionate, even less empathic, all things that Kall is. 

So they taught him to fight, to kill and to go against his natural calling for healing by unlocking the power to harm with sickness. They did that through violence, through "tough love" cause ffs, god of war and all that. 

In my head, the scar on Kall's left eye is Shamura's doing, a mark they left to remind him who is in charge and that they could kill him any moment they wanted.

Things started to change slowly over the years. Kall was the one who "taught" Shamura love, and yes, I am 100% with you on the protective and possessive attitude. Kall became a precious ally, good at his powers, older, and an object of attention.

Kall indeed saw Shamura as a bigger sibling first to try and give meaning to that twisted Stockholm syndrome he was experiencing. He would love his jailer because he thought he could change them and make them better, heal them while being terrified of them.

The relationship evolved eventually, but I can see Shamura not letting Kall out of their sight, killing suitors or friends and imagining them as spies or assassins that could harm his precious little brother. 

You know "I do it for you, I love you and I want to keep you always safe"

Then Kall started to be more independent and they probably hated that, but they needed him for god-killing so they had to let him go and do his thing. 

When things got more chill, Shamura really loved Kall as much as Kall loved them, but I imagine that underneath the care and niceness that they showed to the other siblings, the feeling toward Kall would still be unconsciously toxic and possessive.

SO conclusions: I feel their relationship is unique compared to the other siblings. Kall has seen the very worst of Shamura and lived with them during that time. That gotta hurt, that is trauma. And that's why our favourite squid is scared all the time.

Thanks for the ask, I love rambling!

[creatingblackcharacters]

hi there; first, thank you for making this blog and all the lessons you do, i really appreciate them as a Black person because it highlights a lot of struggles i face with fandoms in general, and why i dont interact more in certain spaces. it makes me feel seen

with regards to your questions, i'd also like answers to them from nonblack fans, especially nonblack anime fans. i don't even mean consuming anime with overtly racist caricatures of black characters (because numerous anime fans pirate their anime and never send a cent to the creators anyway), i mean how can they make fanworks of it?

how can they look at something that they are told is wildly offensive, but then defend with "well, this is how it looks in canon"? where is the line drawn between what's okay and what isn't? as long as it's slow and gradual, is there no line at all?

these are probably just rehashings of your own followup questions, so please excuse that, but i do have an anecdote

i joined a casual anime server the other day and a lot of folks were lamenting one Black character's racist design and how often those on social media will replicate it without thinking/caring. The thing that struck me is that, I've checked this character's tumblr tag regularly for a long time. There are always people who will post art/fanworks of this character with his racist design. Yet hardly ever, if ever, (outside of Black fans) have I seen any of these folks- the ones in the discord server- try to talk to artists/writers/fan creators/etc via asks/replies/etc. There's a notable amount of people in that server and a notable amount that agreed the design was outright racist and that they'll never make fanworks like that, and yet still silence

i'm not entirely sure what would be the line, or the "okay, that's enough" moment to spur any of these folks into action. i'm not sure if there is one. the only reason i don't make my own "hey what is wrong with all of you" post and blow up is because I've made a wonderful little friend group in this fandom who get it, and I don't want them to get caught up in whatever happens if I were to make a post like that

And this is just for getting people to stop using the canon design of the character, i.e., to stop drawing him as a racist caricature. This isn't touching on the people who 1) lighten his skintone [he's been horribly whitewashed over time, which has been reflected in some fanarts and fan merch], or 2) give him a looser hair/straight hair texture, rather than his type 4 hair (there's also #3, which is fanfiction with straight up slurs, and horribly racist writing in it that my friend heavily warned me not to read, but that was more of a one-off case and I've had the creator blocked a long time now).

my point being, we (Black fans) can't even get folks to stop with the caricatures, which we have to start with, and then there's even more of an annoying uphill battle with the other stuff. I'm just so tired of all of this; it makes me want delete my own works and turn away from fandom all together because i can't stand it.

trying for polite and assuming ignorance hardly ever works, speaking bluntly doesnt work at all, making public posts hardly goes anywhere (partly because of how rarely people reblog things anymore, partly because it makes people 'uncomfortable' to share this information with others). Black fans so obviously need help to combat this, and yet it's like sitting at a tea party and hearing all these pretty words in this one setting, yet nobody does anything different/better when the party's over/outside this setting.

sorry for dooming a bit, but like, genuinely i would like to know where the line is for nonblack folks? what is the point/are the points where you would speak up against antiblack racism? have you ever considered speaking up? if there's ever a moment you recognized antiblack racism and didn't say anything, why didn't you? did you consider how your lack of speaking up might affect your fellow Black fans? or how Black fans may be interpret this as silent agreement with the racists/with the racist 'norm'?

..those could maybe be alternative ways of asking your last followup question?

(if i've made any blunders or overstepped here, please let me know!)

No, I'm glad you spoke up! I too would like to see answers!

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"The truth - Part 1." Daryl Dixon imagine.

(Not my gif! But thanks to the amazing people who make them)

For the first time in his life, Daryl tells Carol the story of how you two met.

A/N: This got longer than I thought hehehe that’s why I’m dividing it in two parts. Thank you so much for all the love my last imagine received! I still can’t believe it. That’s why I thought of combining the stories a bit, and showing you how I imagine Daryl and (Y/N) met, just because I’m crazy and I even thought about making it a serie hahahaha but here you’ll see a bit of how they broke up and in the second part, how they got back together and then later had Marley. Only on this occasion (I’ll try not to do it often) I used the pronoun she and her, but you can read it however you like. Thanks in advance!

“Rick told me that Spencer invited (Y/N) to his house for dinner. He’s been really insistent on them getting to know each other more since we got here.”

For him, it is as if Carol’s words are a sharp razor that cuts his breath away, that makes the world, his world to stop completely, leaving a great void where silence lies and reigns, without the constant grunts of the walkers on the other side of Alexandria's gates, without the singing of the birds that nest in the tree just outside the window of the home they share, without being able to hear the sound of his own breathing that seems to stop too just like the beating of his weak heart. 

Because it was Daryl who told (Y/N) he couldn’t be with her, so he wanted to believe that after that, she managed to extinguish every feeling she once had for him, as well as the light of their love that once shone and the one that was turn off when he left her, which trapped them in the shadows of a cold hurricane and an endless night, always so close but never together, running in circles far from each other without knowing where they were going, drifting like a lost ship in the ocean and in a complete darkness.

But that’s bullshit, Daryl knows it, because she had been the only woman Daryl Dixon was capable of loving, and she is the only woman he would love for the rest of his life.

“Um…” He swings the knife against his finger, sinking it in a little harder than necessary, but not able to ask more.

The night melts into his deathly silence, but, sitting beside him on the wooden step outside their house, Carol lets out a long sigh.

“What do you want, Daryl? Do you really want to see her with someone else?”

Daryl’s chest feels hot, boiling, like the result of a high fever, like he’s been running for hours without stopping to catch a breath.

“I jus' want 'er to be happy.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Carol shakes her head, incredulous, but she has a magical way of telling the truth and still sounding sweet. “She loves you, you, and I know she’ll only be happy with you, even if you’re the surliest man I’ve ever met.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything, unable to look her in the eyes as he continues to stare at the grass, hiding behind his hair the eyes of a man who would give his life for the person he loves, but who is too cowardly to stop listening to the voices in his head that tormented him every night, that kept telling him that he would never be worthy of her love, that he would never be the man capable of being loved.

But Carol knows him, and she knows that he is beginning to drown, so, with a warm smile, she speaks again.

“How did you meet her by the way? I don’t think you ever told me that story.”

Softly, because he wasn’t used to doing it often, Daryl smiles at the memory, and his ocean-blue eyes light up and fill with life, and for a moment, he is able to lift his head and look at the moon shining above them.

“We were still pretty young. One night, Merle kicked me out of the ugly apartment we shared during one of his meetings with some drug dealers, so with nothin' to do, I went to a bar to kill some time. It was a shitty place, so I was surprised when she sat at the bar too, just a few feet away from me.”

“What was she like?”

“As beautiful as she is now.”

Carol can hear the smile in his deep voice, as warm as the thought of (Y/N).

“And what were you like?”

“A motherfucker with nothin' to offer 'er.” There’s no emotion in his voice, but before Carol can give him a telling off, Daryl speaks again. “But she looked at me like she could see somethin' in me, somethin' I didn’t even know existed. She talked to me first, and asked if the bike outside was mine. I told 'er that it was, and she, with 'er eyes full of life, told me that 'er older brother used to have one just like that. I laughed a little because she shouldn't be there, she didn't belong in a place like that, and when I asked her, she chuckled, a warm sound, like she was full of colors in that shitty world…”

Daryl chuckles, and for the first time in the long night, he is able to look at Carol, only to confirm with his gaze everything he still could sense about (Y/N) at that moment. Carol can see his smile this time, slight but unmistakable.

“And what happened next?”

“She told me she was runnin' away, that 'er father was goin' to marry her off to some dude of a wealthy family that would get 'em out of the debt that bastard got himself into in the first place. She was goin' to be sold, like a thing, by 'er own fuckin' father.” Carol can hear the venom in his voice, the hatred, the spite in the memory of his own father before he abandoned them. “I asked 'er if she had a place to go, and she said no. I don’t know what went through ma mind when I told 'er ma couch was available, I don’t know what went through 'er mind when she said okay n' thank you. That night when we got back to ma place, Merle told 'er she didn’t look like some hooker he used to bring home. And (Y/N), without any fear, walked up to him and pulled out the gun she had stolen from 'er father, then pressed it against ma brother’s chin, askin' him to repeat what he had just said. Merle loved 'er after that, and I didn’t even know that asshole was capable of lovin' someone.”

Carol laughs.

“I didn’t think I could love (Y/N) more, but now I kinda do.”

Daryl chuckles too.

“Yeah, I kind of did too. I even thought, I have to marry this woman.”

“And you wanted to? Marry her, I mean.”

For a few seconds, Daryl thinks deeply about whether sharing one of his many secrets is the right thing to do, whether saying those words out loud would change the course of things, but at that moment, he considers that saying them is appropriate.

“I bought a ring a year after we got together. It took me a while to get the money, but I finally did it.” Daryl is relieved that she can’t feel the heat on his cheeks, the blush of a boy who fell in love long before he knew what the hell love was.

“And how did you two get together in the first place?”

Daryl shrugs, smiling slightly at her like a little boy: and thankfully, he’d stopped pressing the knife against his finger.

“I don’t even know myself. I guess it started a little after the dinner she made us the next day. I told 'er she could stay as long as she needed to get 'er life together, and Merle asked her to stay if she made him dinner. She was about to shoot him when he told 'er that our mom had never made us such a delicious dinner…” Daryl chuckles, just a little humorous, because the funny memory is mixed with the sad one. “We jus'… at first it was purely carnal, we would have sex to release stress, we would do it and then I would leave ma room that was hers at the time, but there was always somethin' sweet about 'er, I could feel it in the way we kissed, in the way 'er body shuddered as I touched 'er soft skin, in the way she pulled me against 'er body durin'…” Daryl looks back into Carol’s eyes after realizing that he was dreaming out loud, but Carol is there, smiling at him. “There was one night, where I jokingly told 'er that I was enjoyin' this thing of makin' love every night so much that we should consider doin' it durin' the day too, and she jus' looked at me with a confused expression, but with a slight smile on those lips that I was dyin' to kiss in the mornings and at all hours, and she told me that was the first time that I didn't say we had sex.”

Carol smiles, quickly understanding what came next.

“You were falling in love with her.”

Daryl nods softly.

“I was completely devoted to that woman from the moment I met 'er.”

“And you told her?”

Daryl shakes his head.

“Not with words, I ain't good with words, never was. But she knew, I think that’s why she stayed with me all that time.”

“She stayed with you because you’re a good man, Daryl, you always were and you always will be.”

Daryl shrugs, this time in a gesture that dismissed such an affirmation.

“I never told 'er I loved 'er, and she never asked me to tell 'er, but I could feel that she loved me in every kiss, in every hug, in every blessed smile of hers.”

“And how did you two split up when the end of the world began?”

“She got a job shortly after I invited 'er to ma house. She was a vet, and even though she had little experience, 'er boss trusted 'er n' gave 'er a job. That night when people started runnin' and shootin', I went to look for 'er but she wasn’t there. Her boss had been bitten n' I even thought she had been too, but somethin' in me told me that she was stronger, smarter and that she had managed to escape. When Merle and I left town, I never stopped lookin' for 'er: I knew she was alive, and I jus' had to find ma way back to 'er.”

“And you found her after all.”

“Yes, I did, but when we got to the prison, somethin' in me kept tellin' me that I wasn’t enough for 'er, that even if I took care of 'er, she deserved better. That night I told 'er that I couldn’t be with 'er, not in the way she would have wanted. But the way she looked at me, as calm as she had always been… I’ll never forget the way she nodded and walked away…”

Unconsciously, Daryl presses the tip of the knife against his hand again, so imperceptibly that neither he nor Carol notice.

“But you couldn’t stay away from her.”

Daryl chuckles again, embarrassed with himself at the memory of Carol almost catching them in the act.

“Hell no, I had missed 'er body so much. But it was like goin' back to the beginnin’. We had sex when everyone else went to sleep, but I knew it was jus' that: sex. I knew it the moment she wouldn’t let me kiss 'er, the way she hid 'er face in my neck, holding onto my shoulders. So I jus' held 'er against me, huggin' her for as long as she lemme until we were done and she asked me to leave. It was like that all this time. I always have 'er close, but never close enough.”

Carol nods.

“That’s why you stayed here, even though you never really adjusted to this life.”

Daryl frowns, going deeper into his own thoughts.

“I always spent most of ma life in the woods, runnin' away from ma father n' mother, and when they left, I did it to escape from myself. But when she came into ma life, Merle used to tease me and tell me that I had been tamed, that after every job I had, I always came home jus' because she was there. When we came to this place, I considered livin' on the outskirts like I always liked, but I… I can’t be away from 'er.”

Carol’s expression turns into pure sadness, because she knows that Daryl is a good man, strong, loyal to his family, willing to die for one of them without a second’s hesitation, so the insecurities he kept secret were like a knife in his heart and hers. But when she sees (Y/N) from afar coming home after her job at the infirmary, Carol knows that everything comes down to that moment, as if there was no way to escape that decision that Daryl must make, which is now or never.

(Y/N) is still a little far away, so she takes advantage of the moment.

“You are the best man I have ever known, Daryl Dixon, and you deserve all the love you can ever get: from me, from our family, and from her.” Carol steps closer to him, hoping her words are as honest as she intends them to sound, and for a moment, they manage to draw Daryl’s gaze into hers. “I’ll ask you one question only. Do you love her? Do you really, truly love her?”

Daryl holds her gaze, but despite his terror, he manages to find the words he’s been dying to say to her. And when he speaks, his voice is low, husky, but self-assured.

“I do. I love 'er.”

“Then tell her, Pookie.” Carol kisses his temple, smiling at him with all the love she has for him. “I guess you still have the ring. So take her to someplace she likes, tell her the things you always wanted to tell her but were always afraid to say, and ask her to marry you.”

Daryl looks at her silently, with the expression of a scared child.

“What if she says no?”

“She will say yes. I promise. But you have to do it now, Daryl, before she loses hope with you.”

Without saying another word, Carol gets up and goes into the house, leaving him alone, so Daryl can silently contemplate his life, the choices he made, and the love for her that he kept deep in his wounded, frightened heart. But there's something about Daryl that drives him to stop always keeping to himself like he always did, to stop staying on the sidelines, to stop being that man tortured by his own thoughts, to stop loving her silently from the shadows, always behind her to protect her from everything, just so that, in that moment, he would be the brave man she always saw in him.

When (Y/N) arrives at their house, she smiles at him slightly before walking past him, but stopping, just like her heart, when she hears him call her by that funny and almost ridiculous nickname, but with his voice full of love.

“Peach?”

Her hand stops on the doorknob.

“Yes?”

For a small, fleeting moment, Daryl forgets how to speak, as if she were able to snatch all the words from him.

“Are ya doin' somethin' tonight?”

She frowns slightly, and although he hasn’t turned to look at her, she looks at him strangely.

“I don’t think so… going to sleep I guess, why?”

Daryl swallows the lump that forms in his throat.

“I thought that… maybe I could take ya somewhere, but we would have to leave before the sun comes up.”

Her heart is beating fast, an involuntary movement, because it’s been a while since they’ve been truly alone. It's a scary feeling, but deep down, she knows that everything is okay as long as they are together, even though they weren't together.

“Okay.”

There’s a certain playfulness in her voice, masked behind her confusion, but Daryl can sense it.

“I’ll knock on yer door when it’s time to go.”

She nods.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“G'night, peach.”

She laughs softly, but it’s the same lively sound he heard when they first met, and that, somehow, is like a good omen for him.

“You too.” But she pauses, thinking deeply if her next words will make any change in him. She is afraid, she is so afraid of feeling close to him again, but the fear of losing him at some point is bigger than anything, but not by some walker, because he was smarter than that, but perhaps by himself, because Daryl's worst enemy was his own conscience. “Daryl?”

“Yeah?”

Her heart beats differently, but she can’t hold her words prisoner anymore.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do it anymore.”

He knows it without her saying it, because after so many years, she knows him well, better than anyone, and Daryl can feel his own shame blossoming inside him.

“M'sorry.”

There’s a deep emptiness in his words, and she can’t help but feel that weight on her shoulders too. So, silently, she sits beside him for a moment, admiring the beauty of the moon that, despite that new world, hadn’t changed thankfully.

(Y/N) reaches out her hand to him, the hand he hurt, and Daryl, unable to look her in the eyes, holds her hand as he feels the warmth of her body close to him, for the first time in months. Maybe she was never good with words either, but right now, all he needs from her is to have her close, as close as he would be to her if she said yes.

[sweatyracoon]

Tell Me

A/n: Sorry it's been so long. I'll try to be more active, but enjoy this in the mean time.

Warnings: suggestive, vampire boy, angst, fluff?

You had known Felix for a while, but you felt like you didn't know him at the moment.

A few weeks ago he left the shared apartment to visit a few friends at the theater. He came back feeling a little sick.

It had lasted a few days. You stayed home from work trying to help him feel better. It seemed like the flu or a head cold.

He got better, but he was still extremely pale, making his freckles brighter than they had ever been.

His eyes seemed brighter, but darkened when he became upset. He started avoiding you a bit more each passing day, confusing you.

He left the house more often, more during the evening. He felt cold anytime you tried reaching for him, flinching at the temperature of his skin. What was going on with him? Was he still sick?

You asked him once, but he claimed to be fine. It made you sad knowing that your friend didn't feel he could confine in you.

He was wearing more sleeved shirts despite it being summer.

You had finally had enough, not knowing where he was at the late hours if the night.

You decided to stay up in the living room to wait. It was nearly four before you finally heard the door handle unlock.

You stuttered, close to sleep before you heard him. You quickly turned on the light, making him wince in surprise.

He turned to face you, making your jaw drop slightly.

You hadn't seen him face to face in a long while. Just a side glance in passing.

His features had changed drastically.

His blonde hair was black due to tonight's antics, and his freckles had paled, but still leave the highlights to his pale face. His eyes larger somehow, with a red tint. His lips plump and wet, his canines poking out from his top lip.

His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, looking straight into your eyes.

"Where have you been?" You asked quietly.

"Out," he responded, pocketing his keys. The light jingle of the chain filled the silence.

"But where, Felix? I hardly see you anymore, and you've changed." You plead with him suddenly,missing your best friend.

"I haven't changed, y/n. I've just been busy, is all." He sighed, walking to the island in the kitchen, grabbing a glass to fill with water.

"Your hair is black, Felix," You deadpan, not letting it go.

"Just a dumb decision one of the guys suggested. You like it?" He grinned, sipping from the glass.

You couldn't tell him no, because boy, did the color do him justice. His long hair framed his face, and since it was dark, it went really well with his pale features. You gulped.

"Yes, but-" he interrupted.

"So? I'm alright, y/n. Nothing's wrong," he washed his cup, hoping you'd quiet about the subject. "Why are you awake, anyway? It's nearly time for you to go to work."

"I took the day off. I was hoping we could hang out like we used to? We haven't done that since you've gotten sick," you say, hoping to get to him. Not necessarily guilt tripping, but guilt tripping.

He paused, swallowing nervously.

"I work today," he said quickly, confirming your suspicion.

"Felix, you don't have a job," you sigh, suddenly feeling defeat.

It seemed like your best friend didn't want to spend time with you. Which was fine. You just wish he'd admit it rather than tip toeing around you.

"I just don't think it'd be a good idea is all, y/n," He sighed, coming over to stand a few feet from where you sat. "It's not you, honey. I just have some things going on,"

"Like what, Felix?" You stood suddenly, making his eyes widen. "What's so important that you don't even want to see me? You avoid me like the plague, and it makes sad. We used to do everything together. What happened to you?"

At this point you were nearly yelling, and Felix took a few steps back in shock. You were known for your patience.

"I-"

"And don't give me that nothing bullcrap. Something is obviously going on. Do you have a girlfriend? Is that it?" You were close to tears in frustration.

Felix stopped, looking at you like you had just slapped him.

"Girlfriend? No! I told you I was hanging with the guys! Bangchan and Hyunjin, the ones I introduced you to. Listen, I'm just going through something is all. It's not you," Felix tries calming you down, but it only gets you more worked up.

"What is it? What are you going through that we can't go through together? We always did,"

His eyes softened at your words, coming closer to you.

"I'm just going through some changes. I'm still getting used to them. I'm sure you've noticed a few," he tilted his head at you, waiting for you to follow.

It was then when you caught the light bouncing from his bottom lip. They were still moist, and his top canines poked through, leaving small indents on his lower lip.

"Did you sharpen your teeth? And you are more pale...other than that and the hair, I don't see much of a difference."

It was a lie. You noticed everything. How he changed how he dressed slightly, showcasing his tiny figure. How his hands seemed more pronounced, as if he had suddenly hit puberty, the hunger in his gaze. Not lustful, but a yearning for someone to understand whatever it was that he was going through.

"No, I didn't. It's natural...kinda." he smiled lightly. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"Just try," you begged, grasping at his hands, making him freeze.

"why are you so cold? Do you want me to turn on the heat?" You asked, brings his hands up to your neck hoping to heat them up.

"Uhh, no. I'm okay."

He couldn't breathe all of the sudden. He felt the pulse under your skin, the artery that laid just underneath his palm.

"Just look, okay? Don't freak out?" He looked at you, and you nodded.

He gently twisted his neck to the side, showing his neck. You were confused about what he wanted you to see. Until you saw them.

Two marks on the soft skin of his neck where it met his shoulder. Dots. Resembling the same marks as the ones on tv. Vampire bite marks.

"Is this a joke?" You ask, your voice void of any emotion. You let your hands loosen around felixs', his hands dropping back to his sides.

"No," His eyes glowed with confusion. He did what you asked. "I told you-"

He silenced quickly when you brought two rough fingers up to his neck, rubbing a lot harder than you meant to. You wanted to run the makeup off his neck.

"Ow!" He jerked away from you.

That area of his neck was slightly red, but the bite mark remainder as bright as ever.

"Why isn't it rubbing off?" You ask hesitantly.

"Because it's real, damnit!" He scoffed, massaging the irritated area gently.

"How? All that junk isnt real, Felix. This is a terrible excuse to-"

You couldn't even finish, Felix suddenly snapping, pushing you against the wall. You were pinned, your breath quickening at the sight of your friend.

His eyes blazed a wicked red while his teeth seemed to grow. He scowled, showcasing the pearly whites that framed his wet tongue. His hair suddenly disheveled, his breathing heavy.

"I said, it's real! Just listen to me. Your the one that told me to spill what was wrong!" He all but growled at you, making you cower.

"What are you, Felix?" You whisper, surprised you didn't feel any fear. If anything, you could have sworn you were slightly aroused. But you weren't going to think about that right now.

"I'm still me. Nothing more, nothing less, okay?" His gaze softened as well as his tone, lowering his arms from the makeshift cage he had put you in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You cut him off with a hug, smiling, feeling relieved at knowing your best friend still wanted you.

"It's okay. It might be a side effect? I'll let it slide. Just don't let it happen often," you grin, seeing the weight fall from his shoulders.

"Can we still hang out tomorrow?" He grinned back, holding your hand.

"Yes. Now let's go to sleep." You said, yawning. You felt the tiredness crumble onto you.

"Oh...I can't sleep."

You groaned, leaving him to stand in the living room giggling.

[buddiebeginz]

For fans like Buck who are also still processing his breakup with Tommy or feel their connection was unexpectedly cut short, Minear agrees, but stresses that the move was intentional. “Look, I think the breakup was premature, but that was by design. For me, the story that I was trying to tell was here’s a guy, Tommy. He’s not a main character on the show. We haven’t done ‘Tommy Begins’ or something. But you do see him in the ‘Begins’ episodes, in flashbacks, and by the time he leaves in ‘Bobby Begins Again,’ he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s feeling more comfortable. He’s hanging out with the new people at the 118 once Bobby takes over, and they throw him a party and bake him a cake when he goes off to his new post. There was even a reference in Broken when Chimney calls him to do the water drop,” Minear explained. “But Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is. And I think what Tommy realizes is exactly what he said, which is, ‘I’m not your last. I’m your first.'” Minear referenced the coffee shop scene in Season 7, where Buck asked Tommy to give them another shot and come to his sister’s wedding, as a point when Tommy thought, “Alright, this guy’s kind of great. He’s super hot and he’s sweet. And this will be nice. And I’m going to be vulnerable for this.” As the relationship grew stronger and the stakes grew higher, however, Tommy reevaluated things. “I think Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out. And even if Tommy doesn’t know it, he might sense the fact that Buck likes to jump in with both feet a little bit precipitously,” Minear mused. “So was the breakup premature? Yes. Because Tommy was put in a position where he had to be honest. And once he speaks the truth, which is, ‘I think I know where this ends, and I can’t move in with you,’ he’s kind of breaking the spell — the spell of that honeymoon. Tommy even says, ‘I didn’t see this coming either.’ I don’t think either one of them did.”

— Tim Minear, Decider

In other words

He ain't coming back.

[roguishcat]

WIP Monday and Wednesday on Friday

Thank you so much @obsessedwhyyes, @funniestbitchinfaerun, @verbenaa ,@anacdoce, @xxnashiraxx ,

@fangbangerghoul, @busy-baker for tagging me! ❤️❤️❤️ I loved reading your snippets!

I'm a simple woman with simple thoughts. Such as what Astarion thinks of his lover's butt, as inspired by the tireless efforts to give us great content by heroes using Freecam mod to reveal the juicy stuff that would otherwise have gone unnoticed.

I was a bit worried that it's weird shy about this, but then saw this post and was once again reminded that Tumblr is a safe space where we can all collectively obsess over the vamp! 💕

You felt giddy every time you asked for a kiss and Astarion agreed most enthusiastically. Kissing you deeply, both his hands squeezing your butt tightly, kneading the soft flesh in a way that had you both moaning into the kiss.

Lae’zel would roll her eyes and march past you, muttering something unsavoury under her breath about istiks and their peculiar mating rituals that would go completely ignored.

Shadowheart would smirk and pretend to be annoyed, remarking that if they were to be subjected to seeing you be all over each other, at least some change in repertoire would be nice.

It never went past that. Just as you agreed, you gave Astarion space and time to figure out what he was comfortable with. The two of you would hold hands, cuddle up to each other, share heated looks and sweetest kisses that made your toes curl. And without fail Astarion’s hands would eventually be touching, patting, squeezing, playfully slapping, or pinching your ass.  

So it really should have been no surprise when you woke up one fine morning with Astarion rutting against your clothed backside. Now, whilst you had no issue with your vampire enjoying himself, having explicitly stated to him on several occasions that you were game for whatever he would come up with, you were not entirely sure what to do now.

Should you just stay still? Judging by how his pace was picking up and the way his gentle grunts were becoming more audible by the second, Astarion would be done soon. He was clearly so lost in the moment and eager to chase his release that he didn’t even pick up on the change in your heartbeat.

Most of the time you slept like a log. It would take wildebeest stampeding past your tent for you to stir. Which is probably why Astarion, having made plenty of quips and jokes about your almost impressive ability to fall asleep in any place as soon as your head touched the bedroll, was not being particularly careful about being quiet.

Yes, staying still was probably best. If you were entirely honest, Astarion wanting you so desperately was doing wonders for your confidence. And the moans and grunts, his cool fingers on your hips, curls tickling the back of your neck, got you hot and bothered in seconds. You two weren’t intimate in... a while. And whilst this was not exactly how you thought you would next be intimate, you'd take it.

And then you felt your nose itch. What started as little itch that had you scrunching you nose in annoyance became worse by the second. Oh, hells! You were going to sneeze!

You tried to turn your head ever so discreetly to the side and rub your nose against the bedroll. Surprisingly enough, this got absolutely zero reaction from Astarion. And this would be the end of your predicament if you were anyone but the unluckiest woman in all the realms.

Your violent sneeze was like a clap of thunder on a still night.

No pressure tags💕 : tagging everyone who tagged me and @clazberryk, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @khywren, @inkymoonbunny, @marlowethebard

[bunmurdock]

hii bun! it might be a strange question but i really like your inbox asks so i was thinking of asking you about how do you think matt would be if he ended up with a s/o that’s kind of lonely? like, if she doesn’t have much/any friends, is a bit socially awkward, stuff like that

hello, nonnie! i think matt would be so soft, protective, and empathetic ♥

matt murdock notices everything about you from the beginning. not just the sound of your voice, a little shy and hesitant, or the way you laugh, soft and nervous, like you’re waiting for someone to interrupt. it’s the quiet pauses, too, the ones that stretch a beat too long when you’re trying to find the right words. the way you hover just outside of conversations, your heart beating a little faster like you’re worried you’ll say the wrong thing.

he doesn’t say anything at first. matt’s good at holding his cards close, at observing and waiting until he knows the exact right moment to speak. he notices how often you downplay yourself, how you deflect compliments with a quick laugh or a shake of your head. but the more time he spends with you, the more he recognizes the shape of your loneliness, the quiet ache of it. he knows it too well, like an old friend.

it reminds him of those early days—after his dad died, when the rest of the world seemed to turn their backs. how the other kids kept their distance, whispering behind his back about the blind boy who wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t look at them. it reminds him of how easy it was to shrink into himself, to let the silence wrap around him like a second skin.

it comes to a head one night when you’re curled up on his couch, knees pulled up under one of his soft, worn sweaters he swears he doesn’t remember giving you. you’re scrolling on your phone absentmindedly, and matt is sitting beside you, his fingers tracing slow, idle circles on your knee.

“sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asks, voice low and warm, and you shrug, trying to laugh it off.

“nothing,” you say, a little too quickly. “just—” your breath hitches, the words catching. “just the usual. you know. everyone seems so busy, and i don’t want to bother anyone, so…” you trail off.

matt’s hand stills, resting steady and grounding on your knee.

“pup,” he says softly, leaning closer, his breath warm against your hair. “you’re not a bother. not to me, not to anyone who matters.”

you glance at him, cheeks warm, and he tilts his head, his hand sliding up to cup your face. his thumb brushes over your cheek, slow and deliberate.

“you don’t have to do it alone,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now. “you have me.”

and god, the way he says it—it’s not a suggestion, not a throwaway line. it’s a promise, steady and unshakable, and it makes something in you crack open.

matt pulls you closer then, wrapping an arm around your waist, tucking you into his chest like he’s trying to shield you from the whole world. you press your face against his shoulder, breathing him in, and his hand moves to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

“you know,” he says after a moment, his tone lighter now, teasing, “if you’re going to be stuck with me, you’re going to have to get used to me dragging you into conversations. i can’t have my partner hiding in corners all the time.” he presses a finger to the tip of your nose, which twitches adorably.

you laugh, and he grins, the sound of it making his chest rumble against your cheek.

“what?” he asks, mock-offended. “i’m serious! you can’t just let me do all the talking. people are going to think i don’t let you get a word in.”

“matt,” you mumble, cheeks heating, and he tilts his head, brushing his nose against yours in the softest, most teasing eskimo kiss. soon, his lips mold against yours with loving precision.

“i’m serious,” he says again, but there’s so much warmth in his voice, so much quiet, unshakable affection, that you know he’s teasing to make you feel lighter, not smaller.

“you’re mine,” he murmurs then, softer now, almost to himself. his hand moves back to your waist, his thumb stroking little circles into the fabric of the sweater he gave you. “and i’ll remind you every day if that’s what it takes.”

and he does. not by changing you, but by making sure the world doesn’t miss the parts of you that are so easy to overlook. when you drift into your own world at a party, matt is the first to pull you back gently, his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to murmur, “what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours, sweetheart?”

he never lets the world dim you, never lets loneliness sneak back in, because matt murdock knows what it’s like to feel alone. and he makes sure you never feel that way again.

masterlist