#and that was supposed to be a cat joke in the body of this post but idk if it translated

[enchantingruinscandy]

@loser-swag idk if it's a real saying. it just kinda popped into my head and demanded I let it out into the garden so it could pee and chase birds

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy)

Chapter 1

The expectant smiles froze on his siblings’ faces.

Jason blinked, still shaking off the disorientation of the green twisting blur that always came when he took his turn with tHe RitUaL. “What?” he said. It came out defensive. Usually they were all laughing by this point.

Dick reached out and took the post-it off his forehead. “We may have misunderstood this sacrificial thing.” He frowned at the note.

Jason tore it away and flipped it around to read it.

“...Please stop the bridal sacrifices,” he read, voice instantly trembling with the need to laugh. Holy shit. “Proposal is kinda forward. But if you really want, I’d totally go on a date with you. Check yes or no. Danny.” There were two smiley faces after the name and a scribbled drawing of a human looking guy with tall hair.

The batcave was in total, mortified silence. The ritual that had become their pre-patrol goof-off activity of choice had maybe… maybe been a mistake?

“I’m kinda hurt,” Dick broke the silence. “I’m marriageable. I’m a catch, even.” He was joking, but Jason was pretty sure that it wasn’t totally baseless. Who would look at Dick and then choose Jason, of all the people?

Stephanie snorted. “It’s probably your reputation as Ritchie Rich,” she soothed. “I’m sure if this… is it the same guy every time?” She blinked, clearly distracted from her original thought. “Have we all been proposing to Danny day after day?” She wondered. She started counting on her fingers.

“Twice last week,” Tim said thoughtfully. “I proposed to him twice last week.” A line formed between his brows. “I should probably tell Bernard, huh?”

“We must communicate with whoever this Danny is,” Damian said immediately. “If this realm possesses both animal life that resembles our fauna and sentient beings capable of the bad judgment necessary to select Todd as a suitor over Richard, we must know more.”

Jason made a face at Damian and flipped him off, but didn’t disagree. “How is this supposed to work?” He waved the post-it. That did imply some modernity, at least. They were communicating with someone who had stationary. “If I was going to check it, would he know what I picked? Or would I have to– should be bride sacrifice a notebook back and forth?”

“A notebook,” Tim said scathingly. “We can do better than that. A communicator, a phone.”

“Who says Danny has signal, dingbat,” Jason shot back. “He’s probably out of the service area.”

Cass took the paper out of his hand and peered at it. “Yes or no,” she asked, cutting off the disagreement before it could get heated.

He didn’t have to think about it. “Yes,” Jason said, mischief in every line of his body. “I gotta see where this is going. We should at least meet the guy.”

“He said you were tempting!” Dick gasped. He grabbed Jason by the arm and clung on. “Remember? The first time? You’re his type!”

Damian made a ‘gross’ face, features scrunched up like an unhappy cat. Stephanie ‘ooooed’ like she was watching a wrestling match. Cass merely looked thoughtful.

Jason shook his annoying brother off and kept him at a distance with a palm on Dick’s forehead.

“Oooh, the void boy has a crush on you,” Stephanie teased. “You’d be such a beautiful bride, Jason.” She didn’t react to Cass reaching into her hip pouch and withdrawing a sparkly purple pen. Jason loftily ignored Stephanie and watched Cass carefully check YES.

The note disappeared. Cass looked at her empty hand. She flicked the pen between her fingers. Her brow scrunched up.

“Shit!” Jason cursed. “Did-”

The group broke out into an explosion of excited sound.

A throat cleared from the stairs. “Kids?”

Batman stood there, wearing wary suspicion and most of his patrol outfit. He was under the impression that they had agreed to stop sacrificing each other to the green void.

“She took my pen,” Stephanie wailed, instantly switching tracks. Cass backflipped away three times and then leapt directly upwards into the rafters, waiving the purple pen tauntingly. Stephanie chased after her.

“What-”

“Jason won’t let me hug him,” Dick tattletailed. He lunged to grab at Jason. Jason dodged on reflex and threw himself into the scuffle.

“I need to call Bernard.” Tim turned and outright left the Batcave. “I’ll be about five minutes late for patrol, B.”

Bruce watched this chaos with bewildered eyes. “...We leave in ten,” he said, and visibly gave up.

…

The date, when it came, was a fuckin surprise to Jason. He was minding his own business compiling a report on everything the Two-Facers had done last week. (There was a surprising amount of bureaucratic process involved in making yourself the judge, jury, and executioner of people who sucked.)

And then there was a violently green hole in his wall. “Huh,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. He pulled the handgun out of his desk drawer and cocked it at the portal. “Not sure I care for that.”

“Thanks, wolf,” came a warbled and nonsensical reply. Jason turned off the safety.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

The portal flashed white and it closed. He was lifting his gun to point at the man now standing in his apartment before he’d actually processed that someone had come through. This guy moved fast.

“This is where you live?” The other man was peering around Jason’s apartment. He seemed politely interested at best, and, Jason felt, much less concerned by the gun than he should have been. “I heard bats before. I thought there would be more bats.�� His tone was disappointed. He looked at Jason and then flinched his palms out and up, as if he thought he might have come off rude. “Not that you need bats! Or that I’m disappointed by the lack of bats in your decor. In fact you have wonderful, uh, curtains.” He very obviously named the first thing that he saw. He pretended to be fascinated by them. “The red sure is a choice.”

Jason snorted.

“A great choice! I’m not criticizing your home. It’s great.”

Jason realized that if he didn’t say anything to save him, Danny was going to ramble himself into a verbal corner and slink out of the dimension to escape his obvious embarrassment.

“...You hair looks just like in the picture you drew,” Jason said. He put the safety back on. “Hello, Danny.” The name tasted odd in his mouth. It twas just a little pedestrian for the other man– no, teenager, the other teenager.

Danny looked young. No wonder he’d thrown Dic back like the wrong fish.

Jason felt a little less smug about having been the one chosen. Maybe he was just the most age appropriate candidate, not Danny’s type. Timmers was only two years younger, sure, but he was petite enough that it was a little ambiguous.

Danny turned away from Jason’s window and beamed up at him like that was the greated compliment he could have ever received. “I don’t actually have your name! Which is funny, since you kept manifesting in my house.”

God help him, Danny was cute. Jason reached out a hand. “Jason.”

Danny looked at his outstretched hand and then back to his eyes. He blinked. “Are- oh!” He flushed green and his hand shot out to meet Jason’s in what was very clearly the first handshake of his life.

It was a struggle not to laugh. He didn’t wanna make Danny feel bad so he held it in. There was a helpful distraction in that Danny was fascinating to the touch. It didn’t feel like he was touching a human hand. First off, the hand was about the temperature of butter straight from the fridge. Secondly, somehow the physical contact made Jason taste mint in his mouth.

But really, it just… it didn’t feel like human skin. It was too smooth. There was a raised line from a scar, but the texture was as if all the wrinkles and pores of human skin had been polished off. Like if you held the hand of a marble statue and it was somehow also soft.

Jason pulled his hand away before he could wonder too much if that supernatural smoothness extended elsewhere. Ah. Too late. He flushed a little red, even though the only exposed skin was Danny’s hands and face. “So you’re here to uh, set up a date?” he offered.

Danny blinked at him. “Are you busy now? I was thinking now.”

…He was sort of busy. Jason closed his notebooks, only now concerned that Danny might have seen extremely sensitive information. “Nope,” he lied, attention catching on Danny’s freckles. Something about them was pinging as relevant. Was there a pattern? They weren’t symmetrical or anything. Were they fake?

Danny beamed and - he floated up a few inches in his excitement. Holy hell that was cute. “Great!” he enthused. “Should we go to your place or to mine?”

Uh.

Jason turned violently red. “We are already in my place.” His voice came out tight. He- he hadn’t meant that. That was not a first date activity for him.

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop. “Go out in your city or go to the Ghost Zone!” Danny waved his hands frantically. “I’m not being a creep I swear! I mean, we are kind of spiritually engaged but I’m also engaged to– are those people your friends and family?” He was outright horrified. “Oh my GOD, I’m-”

“I would love to take you out around town, but you’ll stand out,” Jason interrupted. He couldn’t hold back the smile. “We can make it work, though. Thoughts on hats and glowing less?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Danny twitched his hands outward in a motion he probably didn’t even know he was doing. There was another flash of white light that crawled up and down his body.

And Danny one was gone. Danny two stood in Jason’s apartment with dark hair, patched jeans, and a loose t-shirt that hid the musculature his jumpsuit had displayed. He had a full palette switch of his eyes and skin tone as well.

He was obviously the same guy. He just felt more down to earth now.

“Useful,” Jason said, and tugged at his snow-white forelock. “Think you could teach me to change my hair like that?” He was only half joking. It was the bane of his existence when he needed to go undercover. It was too distinctive.

“No, but Doctor Frostbite might be able to sort that out for you,” Danny replied absently.

Jason grimaced instinctively. He knew way too many gimmicky villains to want to do to someone called Doctor Frostbite. “That sounds like the name of a B-tier villain with blue hair.”

Danny paused and clearly contemplated it. “That’s Ember, actually,” which made no branding sense because the word ember evoked warm colors. “Lead the way!” He bounced on his heels, which Jason guessed was his human form equivalent to floating up.

Jason cleared his throat. “I, uh, am gonna want to change.”

For the first time, Danny really looked him up and down and realized that he was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and black boxers. Jason waited patiently as Danny went through all the stages of grief and social mortification. That didn’t stop Danny’s eyes from followed Jason’s bare arms when he casually lifted one and flexed a little, rubbing at the back of his head. Ha. Eat that, Dick.

“I’m going to go drown myself,” Danny said, now violently pink. Huh, even blushing for a color change. “Can I use your restroom?”

“Stay alive enough to pick between Korean or Mexican,” Jason advised. “I’ll be right back. Should I find you a coat?” He didn’t wait for an answer, frowning at Danny’s bare arms. “I’m gonna find you a coat.” He was already on the way to his bedroom. “It’s freezing out.”

…

[knavesflames]

Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!

If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!

(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!

Word count: 1k

Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.

You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.

Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).

The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.

Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.

Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.

Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)

Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.

The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.

At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.

It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.

Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.

[gyuscoquetteribbon]

^᪲᪲᪲ what the world has to offer

SYNOPSIS: you were supposed to be home about thirty minutes ago. mingyu doesn't know why you aren't home yet and all his calls are left unanswered and his texts, delivered, but not read.

PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff, established relationship

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

notes: this is pretty self indulgent y'all also also omg first written piece that i've posted for the world to see in 4 years???? also im not very satisfied with how i ended this so my bad y'all but hopefully i get to write more in the coming weeks !!

hpr btw

'i'm close by, i'll be there in five mins !!!'

going by your last text, you should've been home about thirty minutes ago. needless to say, mingyu was beyond worried, pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen while he also he kept an eye on the boiling pasta.

'y/n.'

delivered.

'y/n why aren't you answering my calls???'

delivered, yet again.

delivered, but not read.

mingyu's anxiety, which had picked up upon the ten minute mark, only increased as all his texts were left unopened and unanswered.

the pasta had finally come to a boil. as mingyu turns the stove off, a soft tune fills the otherwise empty house.

his phone was ringing.

mingyu goes to pick his phone up, his speed only picking up when he sees your name illuminating on the phone screen. he attends your call, ready to chide you as he adjusts his phone so that you could see his (rather upset) face.

"y/n, why the fuck won't you—"

"i don't think i'm coming home tonight," you cut him off.

mingyu raises an eyebrow. he knew exactly why you were late the moment he saw you sat, leaning against a wall that looked much like the wall of the entrance to your apartment complex.

you angle your phone towards your lap, and there it was. the reason why you weren't home yet.

laying down cozily on your lap was a sleeping cat, pearly white fur with specks of dust and brown spots. if mingyu was right the stray was probably—

"i think he was abandoned," you pull him away from his thoughts, gently swiping your fingers over the cats ear that was cut at the tip, indicating it was spayed either by a rescue team or its previous owner. your free hand goes to cradle its head as it tips back.

a soft smile falls on mingyu's slightly chapped lips, his eyes gazing at his screen with so much love. he leans closer to the camera. "you don't even look at me with this much love," mingyu jokes, causing you to chuckle softly, "i'll bring him something to eat yeah?"

you nod and allow mingyu to cut the call. a shiver runs down your spine while you wait for your boyfriend to come down to join you. it was a particularly chilly evening. as you wait for mingyu, you watch the cat as its body rises and falls in a gentle rhythm. you had placed your woolen scarf over the cat earlier, when it had fallen asleep, afraid that it might be too cold for him. you sit there, wondering how confused the cat must have felt upon being thrown into the streets to fend for itself after being sheltered for so long. you felt sorry. the world is too cruel, you think to yourself.

"hi," mingyu's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you lift your head to look up at your grinning boyfriend, the scarf wrapped around his neck doesn't hide his sharp canines shining under the dim light of the lamppost.

"hi," you whisper back as mingyu squats down across you. with all the sudden commotion, the cat stirs awake, sleep eyes blinking up at the new figure before him. "he's awake," you note, eyeing the cat cautiously, praying that the presence of another person doesn't scare him.

the cat sits up immediately, the scarf draped over his body, slipping onto the ground. its eyes land on the small tin of cat food which mingyu had bought along. good thing mingyu had bought a bunch of those since you have a habit of feeding strays in your area whenever you come across one.

you loved cats. mingyu knew that much. going out on walks with you almost always meant that you'd both would have to stop somewhere in the side of a road because you came across a stray cat. sometimes, you'd stop mid conversation if you see one, rushing towards it, muttering a soft "look! cat!" mingyu doesn't mind, though.

in fact, it was this quality of yours that made him fall so deeply in love with you. despite the pain the world had given you, love was all you ever gave back. that too with a big grin on your face. when you'd run towards a stray cat mid-conversation, you'd miss the fond smile that'd fall on mingyu's lips. when he'd go shop for groceries, you'd miss the absent-minded smile that'd paint his lips when he'd inevitably walk down the aisle containing pet food. when he'd see you sat beside your potted plant, talking for hours about anything and nothing at all while a slow song plays in the background, you'd miss the way he'd look at you, with hearts in his eyes.

they can hear you. it helps them grow better, you had told him.

once again, you had missed the way he was smiling at you. "or so it seems." a puff of air briefly forms in front of mingyu's mouth as a chuckle escapes his lips. the cat jumps out of your lap and approaches the can of food cautiously, almost as if it'd disappear if he'd look away. gently, mingyu pushes it closer towards the cat, assuring that the food is, in fact, for him.

you sit on your knees, your freezing hands falling on your lap as the cat takes his first few bites, his entire face fitting into the can. when he lifts his head, his overgrown whiskers are coated with minced meat. you and mingyu coo softly as the cat looks up at the two of you with his minced meat clad fur and whiskers.

you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the sides. you sounded so beautiful. music that mingyu wishes was only reserved for his ears; for him to listen to and cherish. but alas, the world knows your name.

"you've taken quite a liking towards him," mingyu points out.

you look at your boyfriend, "i wish we could take him home." an unsaid plea.

mingyu laughs softly, reaching forward to gently pat your head, "i'm free tomorrow. i'll pick you up from work and we both can take him to get vaccinated, alright?" he smiles, mirroring your own beaming smile, "i'm sure bopeul would like a friend or two when we go visit my family when i get a break."

"and, i'm sure dollop would love bopeul too," you say.

mingyu raises a brow, "is that what we're naming him?"

"yes."

"dollop it is then," he smiles, reaching down to gently boop its snout.

you miss the way mingyu smiles at you when you aren't looking. but, you never miss the way he loves you. all the little ways he's shown his love. you've never once had to ask for something. he'd know.

maybe this was what the world had to offer for all the love you've given it.

[funkyplantguy]

grian gets saved by hotguy and then pines over him <3

so this "au" (if you can even call it that when it exists exclusively in my brain and now in this ask) is mostly crack and comes from me joking around a couple days ago with some friends so...don't take it too seriously. that being said...

-

you have (3) new comments! view now?

click.

areeongreenday: hey! so this is insane.

click.

h0tguysnumber0n3fan: i guess i kind of understand where you're coming from with this - scar goodman and hotguy do share a similar sense of humor, and i sort of see what you're saying at 47:03 when you compared their voices (more specifically, the inflection they use on specific words) but...i guess i'm having a hard time imagining scar as a superhero. don't get me wrong - he's plenty cool, but...didn't he say that he's a full-time content creator now? i don't know that he'd really have the time to record, edit, and post videos on top of saving the city on a near-daily basis. interesting theory, though! admire the dedication.

click.

scargoodman: ;)

and there it was, taunting him - that damn winky face, yet again, commented nearly instantaneously each time grian uploaded a new video about the man itself. scar goodman - known to many as the man who had risen to sudden fame in the video essayist community with his charming good looks and boisterous personality. scar goodman, whom grian suspected was secretly none other than the city's beloved superhero. after all, they'd both made their debuts within a week of each other and shared not only a similar path of success but a similar sense of humor, a similar speaking style, a similar body type, a similar laugh...sure, there were things that didn't quite line up, but...for the most part, they appeared to be the exact same person.

okay - maybe grian was a little obsessed. but what was he supposed to do, not point out the obvious?

what made matters worse was that nobody seemed to believe him. no matter how many videos he posted, no matter how much proof he gave...nobody was willing to hear him out.

nobody except scar goodman himself, who seemed intent to drive him absolutely insane.

grian grumbled something to himself, pocketing his phone and continuing down the long, narrow sidewalk to his apartment complex. he'd lost track of time at work yet again, and as a result, the sun had long set. this wasn't unusual for him - he often opted to remain late in the office to "finish up a few things" (ie take advantage of the functional wifi his workplace offered instead of trying to upload videos on his crummy home network), so he was...fairly comfortable tracing the path back to his apartment in the dark of night. the street lights in this part of town didn't work exceptionally well, but with the familiarity of it all and the dull light of the moon, grian typically fared well enough.

tonight, however...well, call him paranoid, but...something felt...off. something about the way all the buildings around him were dark, indicating that their inhabitants were either asleep or out (and entirely unreachable if grian were to call for help). something about the absence of the various stray cats that he often crossed paths with. something about how the complete and utter silence made his ears ring.

"aw, what's this? a cute guy? well, pretty boy, you've just entered the wrong part of town at the wrong time. unfortunately, loose lips sink ships, or...uh...however the saying goes, so...sorry, i can't let you leave this visit alive."

before grian could even register the words being spoken (where were they even coming from?? above him? below him? behind him? everywhere, all at once?), he felt hands gripping the back of his shirt. in another moment, he was on the ground, his breath clawing its way out of his chest. above him stood a figure, shrouded in darkness and the billowing, starry cape draped across their shoulders. in their hands was something glinting, something sharp, something deadly -- something that grian's frazzled, spinning mind was unable to put a name to. or maybe it refused to - refused to name the tool that would be his doom. maybe it was better that way, he mused idly, as the figure raised it high above their head. maybe it was best to not know.

"hey! there you are - what did i say about running off?"

and just as quickly as he'd accepted his death, the threat of it was gone, vanquished by the appearance of the tall, costumed man on the rooftop adjacent. grian felt his breath return to his chest in one fell swoop, filling his lungs and sending a wave of sensitivity to his throat. he coughed, hard, tears welling helplessly in his eyes, and the newcomer's attention snapped to him in an instant.

"oh - and you've made a friend! how nice. unfortunately, there are no plus ones in prison."

"hotguy," grian's would-be murderer snarled. "i thought i'd lost you."

"nah. i may have gotten lost, sure. but you didn't lose me. there's a difference."

"you'll wish that i'd lost you when i'm through with you."

"oh, that was lame!" the man cried, hopping over the low rooftop wall and landing neatly on the ground below (how he did it, even grian wasn't sure. by all intents and purposes, his legs shouldn't have that level of shock absorption, even if he had been fed some chemical cocktail by a mad scientist at a young age as he boasted). "listen - we've got to get you a better catchphrase."

hotguy strode forward, his eyes glinting behind his tinted visor. he glanced to grian out of the corner of his eye, then back to the villain - then back to grian again, his mouth going slack in surprise. grian met his gaze - took in his appearance - and let out a bark of laughter, one not missed by either scar goodman or the cloaked figure in front of him. scar returned his laughter, throwing his head back and planting his hands firmly on his hips.

"well, what a coincidence," he giggled, after a moment. "my new catchphrase just so happens to be "subscribe to my youtube channel."

"what?" their third demanded, glancing between the two. "what are you talking about?"

"oh my god. there's no way. there's no way. how - how am i the only one who knows? how am i the only one who suspects?? it's obvious - it's so obvious."

"what's obvious?"

"i know, right? i make it as obvious as possible, and still...still, nobody puts two and two together. well...nobody except for you, apparently. i guess that you're just...special."

"why don't you just come out and say it?" grian mused, propping himself up on his elbows and ignoring the sputtering from their newly acquired third wheel. "i feel like if you said it - either as scar goodman or hotguy - people would have to believe it, no?"

a strange look came over hotguy's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

"ah...i don't think that would change anything. plus, i have this thing with this cute guy where he tries to tell everyone my identity and i egg him on to get him to make more silly videos. i would hate to give that up."

he winked, and grian felt warmth climb his cheeks. gone was the fear, gone was the panic, gone was the darkness and the creeping, crawling sense of unease - instead, there was only curiosity, burning brightly in his chest. he wanted to talk to scar - hotguy - for hours, wanted to pull the object of his obsession apart to see what made him tick, then put him back together again, just to see what would happen. he wanted to get to know who hotguy was underneath the suit - and who scar goodman was with the suit. he'd wanted (he'd wanted for so long) and it felt like maybe...just maybe...he'd get to have.

"hey! what the hell is going on?"

"oh, right," hotguy chuckled, turning his attention to the third member of their party. "sorry - didn't mean to ignore you. here - sit tight, for real this time. the police will be here soon."

"dude, i'm just going to leave again. do you really not have handcuffs or something?"

"who needs handcuffs when you have a cub to design fancy gadgets for you?"

"a...a what?" the figure asked, then yelped, startled, as something exploded out of the cuff on hotguy's wrist. a net, affixing itself neatly to their body, wrapping them up in a cocoon of their own folly. grian stared at it, humming in approval.

"nice."

"thank you! it's new."

"i know."

"i bet you do," scar responded, and grian flushed further at the teasing edge his tone took on. "i bet you know almost everything about me, at this point. obsessed, much?"

"i could say the same," grian huffed back, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his jeans (there was a rip in one leg, now, he noticed with a frown). "you recognized me, like, immediately. it's pretty dark out, too - sounds like you're the one obsessed."

"what can i say - you're pretty and smart. i happen to like my men pretty and smart."

grian sputtered incoherently in response, all confidence gone out the window. oh god - he was even more charismatic in person, even in costume. and god, was the costume more attractive in person, as well - baggy cargo pants and a tight, fitted top that exposed his tanned midriff. not the most tactical, sure - but damn was it hot.

"you can't say that," he moaned, covering his reddened cheeks with his hands. "oh my god. i hate you. i've known you for five minutes and i already hate you."

"sure you do," scar responded, grinning. "i - oh, hold on."

he raised his hand and tapped the earpiece affixed to the side of his head, concentrating. after a moment, he sighed - and for just a second, grian thought that his shoulders drooped in exhaustion. as quickly as they sagged, however, scar was straightening, turning back to grian with an easy smile.

"sorry, handsome, duty calls. are you alright to get back home on your own? i doubt this guy will be giving you any more trouble. those nets are pretty sturdy."

"wait!" grian sputtered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest (no, no, he couldn't let scar slip through his fingers, not now, not when he was finally so close). "don't go - i...can i see you again?"

scar's smile wobbled around the edges, and any panic grian felt was replaced with guilty - heavy and suffocating (though he wasn't sure why)

"ah...isn't it more fun, this way? don't you like the chase? isn't that exhilaration enough for your pretty little head?"

"i mean...it's a fun hobby, yeah, but -,"

"then we'll stick to the status quo. after all, i'd hate to rob you of your favorite hobby. goodnight, grian. can't wait for your next video."

and with a wink, he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows so quickly grian could have sworn he was made of them. and grian...well. he had an apartment to get home to, a cat to feed...and a chase to continue. and maybe, someday, if he was fast enough...he'd catch up.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 8 | Adorable Chaos

summary: one day you woke up to Matt becoming the best dad for two of your little fur babies, showing all of the affection you wanted to show them yourself but couldn’t and there was Matt fulfilling your little dream

warnings: FLUFF, none! Cutesy content ahead of Matt being an animal dad

authors note: I keep falling behind the time I have set to post the fics and idk why 😭 another amazing idea brought to me by pookie @/strnilolover, and I was watching s4 of obx and when I tell you I was balling my eyes out but here’s the fic 😋 luv y’all and hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The sun had barely rose up, casting a warm sunny glow over the room of my small apartment. In the living room, the soft purring of a cat mixed with the gentle tapping of tiny feet on the wooden floor. There was also the soft snuffling from a hedgehog, whose tiny, spiky body was inside a bunch of cozy blankets. My boyfriend Matt officially calls himself the ultimate caretaker of Molly and Mochi, and it was clear he wore that title with proudness.

I watched from the kitchen, a soft smile spreading across my face as I sipped at my fresh morning coffee. I was supposed to be getting ready for the day, but the sight before me was simply too adorable to look away from. Matt had transformed the living room into an own castle for my pets. Fluffy beds litter the floor and couch, precariously placed toys, and a mini cat tower took the most space, all precisely placed just for Molly and Mochi.

He sat on the floor, cross-legged, as Molly approached him, her eyes becoming wide with evident curiosity. In one swift motion, Matt pulled out a tiny feather toy from behind his back and as he waved it in the air, she transformed from a completely calm kitten to almost like a small hunter, jumping around and playfully swatting at the air. “You see, girl? You’ve got it! Just like that!” Matt cheered, his voice laced with enthusiasm. Molly responded to his praise with a soft meow, her tail wagging back and forth as she enjoyed all of his attention. Next to him, Mochi was busy sniffing through all of the delicious treats laid out like a buffet.

Matt had took time out of his evening searching through the pet store’s best treat options for Mochi picking out crunchy bites as if he was picking out red wine. He pointed at Mochi, who was blissfully munching away and announced, “Look at him eat! He’s such a cute little thing!” The sight of Matt caring for my pets stirred something deep inside of me, like an overwhelming warmth that got into every corner of my heart. It was adorable how he had essentially assumed the role of their caring parent, going above and beyond in his care for them.

“You know,” I joked while walking into the room, admiring the cuteness of a mess on the floor, “I thought I was the one who adopted them.” Matt turned to glance at me, his face lighting up with playful mock. “You think a mom can spoil her kids too much? What about the dad’s, huh? We can spoil the little fur baby’s too from time to time” Molly hopped onto Matt’s lap, immediately settling down as if to agree with his statement. Her spine straight and head tucked inside, she was in complete trust. Mochi, getting a bit jealous stomped over towards them and nudging Molly with his tiny nose as if to say, “Hey, I want attention too!”

Matt chuckled and scooped Mochi into his hands, gently cradling him. “Don’t worry, buddy! You’re our little superstar,” he said, giving Mochi a soft scratch on his spiky back. Mochi snuggled into his hand, his small body curling up into a ball of joy. I leaned against the door frame, admiring the scene as my heart fills with affection thats radiating off them. There was something so sweet about watching Matt collapse into a pile of giggles as he struggled to get Molly and Mochi to be at peace with each other in a small game. The way he showered them with affection made your own small attempts to gain their favor feel nearly impossible and slipping away.

“Okay, okay! Molly, you’re the champ! Now Mochi, your turn!” he exclaimed joyfully, as he attempted to get Mochi to follow the sound of a new toy from the ground. In that moment, Matt was entirely in his own bubble completely absorbed in their moves, treating my pets with the kind of love I’d only imagined giving them myself. I slowly walked closer, enveloped in the warmth of their laughter and the peaceful calming sounds that filled the air.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you sat down beside him. “I think they’re starting to like you more than me,” I joked, wrapping an arm around him. Matt grinned, his eyes beaming with warmth. “Well, can you blame them? I’m a pretty cool fur dad” He pulled me closer, and even in the perfect chaos that these two little creatures brought into our lives, I felt something for sure-this was your family now-imperfect, chaotic, but filled with love.

I gave him a little smile, allowing myself to lean against him as Molly snuggled further into him and Mochi settled onto Matt's other knee. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I whispered, knowing in my heart that the love I had for Matt only became deeper by the way he accepted every weird flaw of our little fur filled family.

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[sirenmoth]

Quokka

John Price x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Based off this post by @palomanh CW fluff. domestic fluff, 141 being 141, romantic teasing, bullying the old man, lovingly of course, soft simon riley, establised reationship

Over the course of who knows how many months you've been staring at the Captian of the 141, something about him reminded you off something but you can't place what. You've heard the jabs and jokes around the task force and the base that he was like a bear, big and grumpy, and you could understand why. Prices' broad shoulders and soft layer of fat covering the muscles, not quite ripped but not quite a full dad bod, his mutton chops that was his pride and joy and his thin covering of body hair. But there is something else he remined you off, and it was bothering you that it was hard to find out.

Watching as his crows feet appear around his eyes as he smiles, watching them shape them. An unapologetic sign of his age, Price was focused on this weeks newspaper crossword, a routine you've come to love, it gives you time to admire him. But right now, you had other plans as you typed over and over again, trying to figure out what was bothering you for months now, the thought never left, just tucked away in the back of your brain.

After what felt like hours you finally got your answer, "That's it!" you suddenly announce, throwing your head back against the back of the couch, phone in hand. A loud overdramatic sigh leaves your lips in relief as the ever present annoying question was answered.

"What's what, bonnie?" The Scotsman asks, attention now on you, a puzzled look on his face, the rest of the men present was now looking at you as well, confused on your sudden outburst. "Care to share with the class?" he grins at you.

"Yea, come on" Gaz chimes in, equally as intrigued in your excitement. "What have you been searching for the past ten mintues? Must be important, you have been very silent, which isn't like you." The other sergeant points out.

Pointing towards the beared man, sitting in his self proclaimed armchair, drinking a cup of tea, eyes focused on one of the crossword riddles. "Quokka" you plainly say, eyeing down the older man, "That's what you remind me of, a quokka." That remark gets Price to look up off the newspaper, granting you an unsatisfied look.

Groaning, knowing you're getting nowhere with it, "Ya know, the rat looking thing thats the size of a house cat, primarily nocturnal rodent that lives in Australia?" Hoping that gets your point across.

"I think you've lost it." Ghost speaks, glaring you down from where he sat. Sighing you get and walk over to him, getting a picture of one up. Holding it out for the masked man to see, to which he did a double take between the picture on the screen the captian.

Down at the picture. Up to the Captian.

A hearty laugh, deep from within his chest, rings out, the outline of a faint smile underneath the mask, "It's like a spitting image of him, put a hat on it and there'd be no difference." Both of you catch a glimpse of the side-eye the older brit shoots over.

"Its' closest supposed relatives are the kangaroo and wallabie, though they've been documented to grab and eat leaves like a koloa does," You explain, strolling over to the two sergeants, asking and begging to see what one of them looks like, "they can hop like a rabbit but their typical mode of transport is on all fours, they have a eating habit similar to a giraffe, quokkas actually have two stomachs to help digest food," placing your phone down in front of the two men, their eyes widing at the picture of what the rodent looks like, "They also sleep like bats, minus the upside down part, instead they put their head between their front feet." You finish explaining to the four men on what a quokka is.

Soap and Gaz burst out laughing, doing the same gesture as Ghost, looking back and forth between the phone and their captian. Gaz held the electronic device up as a maekshift side by side view, "Wait, that's not Cap?" Gaz manages to get out, "But it looks so alike him." Soap doesn't seem to get a single word out, struggling to get his laughter under control, resting his head in his hands to try and catch his breath, you catch Ghost stopping himself from joining in with the gaggle of laughs. Price still doesn't seem impressed.

"Quokkas are kinda friendly. They've been known to take pictures with tourists, though its advised you shouldn't. Ya know. them being wild animals and all." Giving a warm smile to the unethusiastic old man, who gives you a sarastic one back, "Want to see?" taking your phone back and walking over to Price, setting it down in front of him, "I think it really comes out when you smile."

Price glances down at it, shaking his head, "I don't see it." He bluntly says, going back to his crossword. Not giving up yet, you open your photos to grab a picture of Price smiling before placing it back down, swiping between the two pictures to help him get a better look. "Why do you have a photo of me smiling, luvie?" he signs, putting his pen down.

"Why not," You shurg, "I have one as my background" innocently smiling at him, "The beard helps, gives you a cuddly look. I can see it, both you and a quokka are both very cute, both got a adorable smile. You're known to kill if needed though" You jest, pulling a chair out to sit next to him, studying his expressions as he examines the two photos.

After a while Price gives another sigh, a small smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head at your and the team's antics, "Ok, there's some similiarities, I guess." The room bursts out in a roar of cheers, the captian watches in adoration in his eyes as he watches you interact with his men, watches the shine in your eyes as you show the men more photos of the rodent you said that Price looks like, standbying everything you're saying.

Going back to to his puzzle, something you said prior stopped him, looking back up at you, confused, "Did you just say you have a photo of me smiling as your phone background?" he asks.

You stand, setting the chair back where it was, "Don't worry about it." you reply, leaving to finish some paperwork and files due for that afternoon, leaving the captian to finish his crossword puzzle in peace and quite.

Later when you retire back to your room, getting ready to wind down for bed, a glimpse of a small, brown fuzzy ball sitting on your pillow catches your attention. A quokka stuffed animal, with a small replica boonie hat on it's head, clearly showing you who set it there. How he managed to get one so quickly was anyones guess. Picking it up, the small plushed creature looked at you with soft eyes and a warm smile, leaving you with the mental image of a certain captian.

Finishing your nightime routine, now accompied with a new friend. Climbing under the covers, snuggling close to the plush muttering to yourself "and he says he's not sentimental" before closing your eyes for some well deserved sleep. He's going to hate it when he finds out you've named it Price Jr.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November - Duff

A/n: These were meant to be all put into one but then I made Duff's really long, then I made Axl's even longer, now I'm working on Steven's but the other's will also be posted separately, either way I hope you enjoy :3

Also if anyone wants to request more for Duff... ;)

Warnings: Smut, no nut November, fingering (f receiving), I completely forget everything that happened since I wrote it so if I missed anything please let me know :3

Intro

Duff walked out of the studio once they were done for the day. He had completely forgotten about the bet until Axl yelled out to him from across the parking lot. “Don’t let Popcorn win, ya hear?!” Whether he was joking or not Duff couldn’t tell, he didn’t care all too much either.

Honestly, the bet didn’t mean much to him in the first place, he just thought it would be fun to watch everyone else deal with it. He never put too much thought into whether or not he’d win or not, frankly he didn’t care. All he wanted was to get home to his partner.

It was October 31st, his plan was to come home and celebrate Halloween with his love, explain what was happening and see where that went.

He walks through the door and is met with you, his girlfriend, wearing what could potentially be the most revealing costume he’s ever seen in his life.

You did a little spin as you frolicked over to him. “You like it?” You asked with a big grin.

“Like what, the two inches of fabric covering your whole body?” He asked, a smile on his face as he admired you, his hands quickly finding their way to your hips.

“What, you no like?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I got it for the party tonight.” Duff paused, suddenly this hot costume was no longer fun and games.

“You plan on going out in that?” You looked back up to him. “Babe, that’s a fucking thong and some cat ears.” You smiled and turned around.

“There’s a tail, too.” Indeed there was. Duff pulled on the fluffy black thing dangling out of you. A buttplug. You got a buttplug for a costume.

Duff shook his head and pushed your further into your shared apartment. “No way in hell are you leaving in that.” You laughed and flopped over onto the couch. Duff came right over to lay over top of you. “You are staying here with me for one last perfect night.” His lips crashed against yours, you happily went along with it until what he said finally caught up with you.

You pushed him away from you and nearly fell off the couch. “Last night? What do you mean ‘last night’?” You asked, tone full of worry.

Duff thought about what he said for a moment. “Oh, God, no, that’s not- that’s not at all what I meant.” He blurted, pulling you close to him. He sat you in his lap and you shifted uncomfortably due to the toy stuffed inside you. “It’s just, the guys and I made this bet to see who could last the longest through November without cumming.” He explained, toying with your hair. You let out that breath you were holding in and curled into him.

“Jesus, you fucking scared me, Duffy.” You mumbled. The bassist chuckled softly and kissed your forehead. You kissed his jaw, he kissed your nose, then you both met in the middle and your lips collided, ending in a heated makeout session.

You had your night and that was supposed to be that for the month.

A week passed and Duff was seemed fine. He hadn’t had any wet dreams, no real neediness. He did ask you to cover up a little more, though he swears it was because it was chilly. You didn’t necessarily plan on following through on this whole ordeal with him, still you hadn’t made any attempt at anything with or without him.

The first weekend was fine, you had it off and had your fun lying around all day. Monday killed you. Everyone was being an ass, some kid even got on your nerves when he ran into you with an icecream in his hand, getting it all over your new pants.

That night you came home seething, wanting nothing more than to have Duff fuck you into next week but you couldn’t even ask that.

You got in the apartment and slammed the door shut behind you, more than annoyed with the day. Duff poked his head out of the kitchen and, upon seeing you so distraught, he rushed over to you. He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up. “What happened? Rough day?” He asked as he walked you over to the couch. You groaned loudly. “That bad, huh?” Once he sat down you fell over, lying over the couch and his lap, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” You grumbled. Your eyes shot open and you slowly moved your hands away from your face, peering up at Duff who glared back at you.

“What was that?” He asked, knowing there wouldn’t be a good answer.

“I-I’m just tired, I didn’t-”

“No, no,” he interrupted, “say it again, I didn’t hear you the first time.” Your lips pursed in a small pout as you stayed looking up at him. “What, you had a bad day and decided to be a brat?” You shook your head. “Thought that I couldn’t do anything about it for a whole month, hm?”

“No, I just-” Duff cut you off again, this time with a harsh slap to your thigh, causing you to yelp.

“Say. It. Again.” He repeated. You let out a small whimper. Duff shook his head. “Tsk, tsk... Sweetheart, it’s one thing to say something like that but it’s another to put on this act.” His voice was degrading, cold and mean. By God did it have your cunt blushing for him.

Duff knew he couldn’t fuck you, he’d lose the bet for sure. He didn’t plan on winning but he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of losing, either. To get around this he just fingered you.

He had you in his lap, naked. Your legs hooked for his to give him full access to you and he took full advantage of it, his long, thick fingers pushing deep inside of you. He went slow, making sure to drive you crazy by hitting every spot, then he’d speed up and the room would fill with lewd sounds and loud moans as you cried out for him. Right before you came he’d stop and return to an even slower pace.

You stopped warning him when you were close in hopes of cumming but he knew anyway. “Fuck, Duffy, please! Hah- ‘M so-sorry, please!” You whined, bucking your hips against him, searching for any amount of extra friction, just something to get you over the edge.

“You’re sorry, are you?” He was right by your ear, lips caressing the shell of it. “You’ll be good if I let you cum?” You nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes, yes, I-I promise, I’ll be good!” You were clenching around his experienced fingers in anticipation. Duff planted a few soft kisses along your neck as he continued his abuse on your hole, bringing you even closer to your release.

“Cum for me, baby, cum on daddy’s fingers.” He whispered in your ear. Your eyes rolled back, your head fell onto his shoulder and your back arched as you came hard around his fingers.

You two never usually even made it a week without some kind of intimacy, even when he was on the road you’d call. That, paired with how much he teased you had a familiar yet different feeling building in your gut.

Instead of simply waves of pleasure rocking through you a gush of liquid shot out. It took Duff a second to realise what was happening but when he did he was quick to change tactics and pulled his fingers out of you to play with your clit, wanting to see as much of you squirting as he could.

He let you finish and gave you an extra few minutes to come back down from that. “I didn’t know you could do that.” His voice was soft and sweet in your ear, a full 180 from the tone he had earlier.

You shrugged. “One of us had to this month.” You joked, your voice airy and tired.

“You thought I could see that and not cum?” You looked up at him with a brow raised. You twisted in his lap to see the giant stain forming in his shorts. “Your ass kept rubbing against me, I gave up halfway through, that was just the cherry on top.” He explained and pulled you to him, kissing your neck again. “You know,” he started, “now that there isn’t a bet to worry about...” He trailed off.

Your brows raised and a smile came onto your face. You stood up and slowly started walking to the bedroom. When you were only a few steps away you turned back to him. “Last one in bottoms.” You teased. Duff booked it to the bedroom.

[followmetoyourdoom]

If you remember this post here about burning the goat via infiltrating the security team and falling in love with a fellow guard, you can now read the first chapter here on Ao3 or under the read more below:

Preaching to the Fire - Chapter 1: The Plan

Summary: Björn has one love in his life and one love only - arson. As a ten year long game plays out, will that change? Delve into Björn's musings and planning as his live long dream unfolds.

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The name's Björn. I work security for one of the most dangerous jobs this side of daylight saving hours. Gävle goat protection squad. It's a tiring job. You sit, you watch, you wait for the next squad, you go home. Repeat the next day. Such is the life for this one month of the year. All other months, I am merely security elsewhere. The exact location is unimportant, I do not stay anywhere else for too long. But to the gävlebocken? I always return. The gentle gaze of its barren eyes, the harsh texture of its dried fur. How I long to bathe it in sweet cleansing light. It captivates me, it always has. And now I am close to it, closer than I've ever been. I will always remember that first year, the lurch in my chest as I was shown the security measures. The way my eyes darted back and forth looking for weakness, looking for ways in. It felt so strange to be keeping others away from it, to be the one keeping it safe. Now, it is year five. I have a clean record, the gävlebocken has always been safe under my care. I am the best at what I do. I have to be for The Plan to work. I cannot mention what The Plan entails. Not to anyone, even Mika, one of my fellow guards I've taken a liking to. The way they laugh at my jokes and say that my big strong arms will protect the goat against all that wish it harm... It is difficult not to like them I suppose. This was not a part of the initial plan but, if I can ignore my feelings and look at this from a practical point of view, it could work in my favour. I can win them over, I think. I hope. For the sake of The Plan of course. Yes. No other reason.

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Year six, things are going well. Mika and I spend time together outside of work now. We are... friends. They have a cat who likes to sleep in my arms when I visit Mika. Mika also likes to sleep in my arms. I think this means they trust me. A terrible decision on their behalf due to The Plan, of course, but I cannot help but smile softly as they nuzzle against my chest in their sleep. They call me their big teddy bear. Part of me wants to keep my distance. I am developing... Feelings for them. Feelings which complicate The Plan, but I cannot turn back now. I simply remind myself this is good. This gives me fuel to add to my fire, as it were. Their trust is valuable after all. They would never suspect I harbour such a dark secret, such A Plan. We often play little games together when we are on watch, thumb wars, arm wrestles, card games, etc... They are very competitive and I enjoy watching the joy spread across their face when they are about to win. It starts at their eyes, they begin to crinkle ever so slightly and shine with desire. Then their lips twitch, first one corner then the next, and finally freckles get squished together and form new constellations. It is a sight to behold even under the streetlamps. I wonder what they would look like under the gaze of a roaring inferno... Oh if only it were so easy to disconnect myself entirely! The other day I even found myself pondering the taste of those gentle lips and I had to quickly excuse myself from the game. They smirked as I left, I think they know something.

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Year seven, Mika is my roommate now, which was strange at first - we only have the one bed, but we got used to it. They say my body warmth is good for the cold we must endure in the winter months. I am not sure what this means for The Plan as a whole. For now I've had to hide a lot of my musings in places they cannot reach such as the top of the fridge, or any shelf at my eye level - though I must be careful with this one, they are good at climbing. The cat also enjoys knocking off items at height. At work I am often regarded as the serious guard in our rota and there is some teasing that Mika has enticed the softie out of me. I would argue the rest never got the time to know me. Surely I do not keep my softest smiles for them... I remember laughing at other times. Here and there. Occasionally. I do not know who I'm kidding, I clearly like them more than a friend. But we live together now! The Plan aside, it would be strange to initiate anything when they cannot leave, would it not? No, I must remain at a safe emotional distance. Besides things are good right now. The other night they cooked a fantastic fillet of fish, they know it is my favourite, and then we settled down together to watch a movie and they fell asleep on my shoulder. I wouldn't want to lose that. Or the way they wrap around my back at night and press close to me. Or the way they make me a sandwich when they are not on watch and they leave me a note. I keep all the notes of course, it would be disrespectful not to. Sometimes it's almost like we are more than just friends... But I think that's just my feelings getting the better of me.

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Year eight. There was an attempt at a burning tonight. I almost hesitated, but I did stop them. I must keep my record clean. I must ensure no-one suspects. I told Mika about it when I got home, about how I tackled the would-be arsonist to the ground and held him beneath me as back-up arrived. Mika shook their head with amusement and joked that perhaps they should try burning the goat while I was on duty. Then their eyebrows started acting strange and I got concerned for their wellbeing. They flicked some water from the sink at me and called me 'cute' for my concern. I do not know what this means. Does Mika also have A Plan? Perhaps they would be a valuable ally in this fight... But no, I cannot risk it. Each day that passes I get closer and closer to the date of The Plan. Just two more years. I have notes of all changes, all attempts, all security codes, anything I could possibly need. The only unknown is Mika. They are an entity unlike any other, small yet strong, silly yet serious, tough yet kind. They look adorable in my sweaters that are several sizes too big for them and fiercer than any guard on duty in their uniform. Their duality is so enticing, so exhilarating. I want to tenderly stroke their cheek as we go over The Plan together, I want to hold them as we muse about escape routes. I want them involved in everything I do. But I cannot. They should not be dragged down with me. As we closer to the date of The Plan, I must slowly wean myself from their gentle embrace.

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

Year nine. In my minds eye I see Mika's hand slip into mine, a burning furnace in their eyes. A band in a box in my hand that flickers with the golden and copper light of a simmering blaze behind us. The scent of burning straw fills the air, and our noses wrinkle in joking disgust. There is no one else around, it's just the two of us. I get down on one knee, speak four words, and in my dreams they say yes. I now fear I am in too deep. The ring sits heavy in my pocket. I keep it with me wherever I go. Just in case. I love Mika dearly, wholly, there is only one love that meets them but does not surpass them, and it is ever present in all of my dreams about us becoming us. Could I chose that moment? It would certainly be memorable. Granted, that's if they approve of The Plan, for I have to follow through with it, even now, of course I do. Not out of obligation or out of sunken cost fallacy, but because I want to. Though my dreams have been added to, that one dream has not changed. Mika lies across my lap, sleeping soundly. I stroke their hair and my hand shakes. I do not want them to think less of me. I do not want them to hate me. I wish I could tell them. I wish I could ask them. The words get stuck in my throat everytime I try to say anything about either dream which are now the same dream rolled up together. They murmur softly in their sleep and I wonder if we share any parts of our dreams. What if, after all this time, after all these moments, Mika thinks of me as nothing more than a friend? As I ponder this I find that idea is not as terrifying as the idea of them hating me for committing a crime they would find abhorrent. If they wish to remain friends then friends we shall remain, it is as simple as that. I suppose only time will tell.

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

This is the year, year ten. A perfect track record. If we ignore the birds. Under my care we have never lost the goat. Under my dear Mika's care, the same. Tonight we are scheduled in to guard the goat together, 2am - 6am. Tonight is when I put The Plan into motion. Tonight, the weight in my heart and my pocket will ease, one way or another. Mika does not know. I could not bring myself to tell them. We are getting ready to sleep before our shift. I can heard them humming a song through toothpaste. It's hard to believe this might be the last time I hear that muffled refrain. I'm hesitating again. I could just pass this journal over as they walk through the bedroom door. I could offer up my life's work and let it hang in the balance, out of my love for them. But my other love tugs at my heart strings, though they are so different there is no comparison. I cannot choose between them. I can only combine them. So tonight will be a night of burning love.

[sturnioloszn]

TRICK OR TREAT? - C.S

summary; your friend drags you to the sturniolo's annual halloween party but your slutty costume catches chris' eye and staring isn't enough.

warnings; smut, oral, praise, begging, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol.

a/n; this is my first post, so let's keep the hate tame, thank you. but if you enjoyed this, feel free to leave suggestions on other stuff I can write or if you want to see different content (texts, clips, etc) because I suck ass at writing lmaoo.

"Y/n come onnnn, are you really going to make me go by myself AGAIN?" My friend complains as she flops down on her bed in front of me.

"You know parties aren't my scene, especially not the Sturniolo's parties," I say, leaning against the headboard. Every year on Halloween, the Sturniolo's throw a massive party at their house and it always details a shit ton of alcohol and drugs.

"It'll be funnn, just give it a chance, you haven't come to a party with me since high school," She continues to whine about the fact that she always has to go alone or find random people to hang with but it's not my fault we are polar opposites.

She continues her persuasion for another half hour and I finally begin to cave.

"Even if I were to go, I don't have a costume to wear," I say, shrugging my shoulders, knowing that she'll find something so that I'm forced to go.

"You can just wear what I wore last year, you'd look so hot," She replies as she moves towards her closet. She's rummaging through her clothes, pulling out random pieces of clothing and tossing them over her shoulder, causing them to scatter all over the room, making a mess.

"How slutty is it?" I laugh, acknowledging the fact that she loves going out half naked every Halloween since we were 16.

"Actually, not bad at all," She says, pulling out a leather mini skirt and a low-cut body con top. I look at the clothes layed out on the bed with a clear sense of confusion.

"What is this supposed to be?" I say trying to make sense of the plain, black clothes.

"A black cat, duh," She grins.

"Are you serious?" I ask, furrowing my brows to see if she's joking or not.

"Of course, it doesn't look like much now, but with a few accessories and makeup, it'll look amazing. You're just going to have to trust me,"

Ugh, I guess I'm going to this party.

~

I'm sliding into the tight-fitting clothes that I was given, and I could barely breathe. The skirt just about covers my ass and any movement at all would cause my ass to be on show completely. Whereas the top pushed my tits together, making it the focal point of the outift. Wow. I looked like a slut.

I paired the outfit with black mid-thigh tights, black platform heels, and gloves with claws attached at the fingertips. I went to show my friend who was currently doing her own makeup.

"What do you think?" I ask, already certain of her response.

"Oh. My. God." She says, turning around in her makeup chair to look at me properly. "If you weren't my bestfriend...smash," She speaks again, now giggling.

I laugh at her stupid commentary before questioning what to do for my makeup. She insists on doing it, so I wait for her to finish her makeup before doing mine.

Our costumes didn't really correlate considering I was a black cat and she was a slutty Wednesday Addams but regardless we did look hot.

After a few hours of getting ready, we were finally heading towards the door. We took an uber to the triplets house even though I would probably be able to drive anyway because I had no intention of drinking.

As the car pulled into the neighbourhood, you could instantly identify which house the party was being held at. Aside from the heaps of cars messily parked around, there were a bunch of people gathered outside, in front of the house, with red solo cups in their hands and music blaring from inside the house.

We stepped out of the uber and began to make our way to the door. I felt at least 4 pairs of eyes on my ass, I knew this skirt was going to be a problem. The party itself consisted of a bunch of sweaty and drunk strangers rubbing against each other.

I will never understand parties.

Before we got too close to the speaker, I felt someone move to my ear. "I'm gonna go get something to drink, what do you want?" My friend asked.

"Nothing, I'm not drinking," I say, also speaking into her ear since the music is already too loud.

"Oh, come on, you need to loosen up, it'll make the party more tolerable," She says as if she acknowledges the fact that being at a party sober really does kill the atmosphere.

"Fine, just get me something that's not too strong," I give in. I guess I am drinking tonight. Good thing we took an uber then.

After a few drinks and a couple of shots, I feel my walls come down, and I began to actually enjoy myself. I lost sight of my friend a while ago, but I know she's either dancing or getting laid. Either way, I'm happy for her.

As I'm dancing and swerving my hips to the beat of the music, I feel a pair of eyes burn into the back of my head. I turn around and see Chris leaning on the kitchen counter with a red solo cup in his hand. We make eye contact for a brief moment before I decide to turn back around and keep dancing as if his glare wasn't intimidating the fuck out of me.

A few moments go by, and as I rock my hips, I feel a presence come up behind me, and 2 firm hands grip either side of my hips. I shift my head to the side to see who it could be, and of course, it was him. However, turning my head seemed to be a mistake because it gave Chris the opportunity to dip his head onto my shoulder. This makes my heartbeat instantly spike.

I then feel his lips move to my ear, "You've been driving me insane for 2 hours straight,".

The atmosphere becomes thick, and I'm struggling to find the air to breathe. "What are you talking about?" I ask innocently, putting up a façade.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't act naive," he responds. I guess he's smarter than he looks. Before I have the chance to say anything else, I feel him speak into my ear again, "Trick or treat?".

What? What is he talking about?

"Treat?" I respond not really knowing what I'm asking for. I feel his smirk grow against my ear before he intertwines his fingers with mine and begins to drag me down the stairs of his house. We walk down a narrow hallway, and we reach a room. He puts a code in to open it and pulls me into the room with him.

I look around briefly and realise it's likely his bedroom. It looks like a normal guy's room; a king-size bed, a desk with a gaming setup, a closet, you know, the usual pieces found in a bedroom.

I turn to look at him, and he's looking straight at me as if he's trying to memorise my face.

"So, do you want your treat now?" He questions seductively as he steps towards me. I consequently take a step back, but I'm blocked from making any further moves when my back hits the door. I gulp at the fact that there's nowhere for me to run or hide.

"What's my treat?" I ask, my voice being barely louder than a whisper. His eyes are glued to mine, and it begins to feel a bit like a staring competition.

"Whatever you want," He smirks.

"Whatever I want?" I repeat slightly in shock, my heartbeat growing faster and faster. On top of my heart trying to escape from my chest, I feel my wetness beginning to gather in my panties. I mean, who could blame me. I was being seduced by The Chris Sturniolo himself.

He nods at my silly repetition.

All of a sudden, I feel a wave of confidence wash over me. This must be the alcohol resurfacing.

"I want your mouth between my legs," I say, looking at his face for a response to what I just said. A sly grin crawls up his face as his hand slides up to the side of my face and holds me gently as he guides my head towards his.

I feel his soft lips come in contact with mine, and I feel myself melt into his touch. The kiss was soft and tender, but it very easily transformed into one full of lust and passion. The hand that was cupping my cheek moves to the nape of neck, and his other hands begins to roam across my hip and lower back.

I take the chance to slip off my gloves and tangle my hands into his messy hair. Chris grows tired of kissing my lips and firmly tilts my head upwards to give him access to my neck. He delivers wet, open-mouthed kisses all over my neck and collar bone before I feel him find my sweet spot. I release a soft moan at his discovery, which just encourages him to suck and stimulate that area further.

As he continues to mark my neck, I feel his hands move to the back of my thighs before delivering a few taps. I obediently listen to his commands as he lifts me up from the floor, and I wrap my legs around his torso. In this new position, I feel his hard dick strain against clothed pussy.

Suddenly, my back is pulled away from the door, and I feel him carry me towards the bed. Surely, a few seconds later, I was placed onto his mattress. He was on top of me, still placing kisses all over me but slowly making his way closer to my tits.

Before his mouth even has the chance to reach my tits he pulls away. I shudder a little at the loss of contact, but my disappointment doesn't last long when I realise he has his eyes on the prize. He shifts down the bed so that he's now lying on his stomach, and I feel his breath on my inner thighs.

He places a gentle kiss along the inside of my thighs, and I buck my hips at his face, needing his lips somewhere else.

"You're so impatient, aren't you?" He sneers against my soft skin. I groan at his question because he knows where I want him, and yet he's everywhere, but where I need him most.

"Please, Chris, I need you..so, so bad," I plead, I don't care how needy I sound. I just need the relief. With every kiss he placed on my skin, the wetter I became, and it started to become unbearable.

He hummed at my pathetic begging, which caused jolts of electricity to spark all around my body. He finally gave in, and he pulled my panties to the side, taking in the sight before him.

My wet, pink pussy was displayed right infront of him and all he could do was smile. He carefully brought his middle finger to my slick folds, and he collected the wetness that had gathered, I moaned at this action, finally getting some relief. He then brought his finger to his lips and sucked it clean.

He held eye contact with me the entire time, and the only thing I could do was look into his lifeless, blue eyes as he pleased me. He finally sunk his middle finger into me, and the relief was intense. His long, slender finger pumped in and out rhythmically.

"You're so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you," He states almost disgusted by me. His comment made me throw my head back and just focus on his delicious movements. After a few moments, he added his ring finger to the mix, stretching me out further.

All of this was nothing, though. The second he lowered his mouth, I knew I didn't stand a chance. His tongue begins to expertly lick between my folds, collecting all of my juices. By now, I'm a breathy and whimpering mess.

"Chris, please," I plead again.

"What do you want, baby?" He asks, briefly pulling away.

"I want to come on your tongue," I breathe out.

This encourages him to work more efficiently, as he moves his mouth over my bundle of nerves before sucking at it. I can't help but moan at how good it feels.

His fingers are still pumping in and out of me at an amazing pace, and his mouth is working wonders. I feel my orgasm building up in my stomach. I tangle one of my hands into his hair to push him into me further. I need him as close as to me as possible.

At this point, I'm practically riding his face, but I can't help it from how good it feels. My legs begin to spam uncontrollably, and I know I was close.

"I'm so...~ah~...close" I moan, letting him know even though he can definitely tell.

"Beg to come," He says without slowing his movements.

"Please let me come...it feels so good, please...I'm begging you, Chris," I beg shamelessly. He's satisfied with my pitiful pleads and starts to move both his tongue and fingers faster. All that can be heard is the music from the party bleeding into the room and the wet sound of him pleasuring me. This pushes me even closer to the edge.

I feel my orgasm about to wash over me, and I know he knows because I feel my pussy squeeze around his fingers and my thighs grip his head, basically holding him in place.

"You're doing so good f'me," He manages to say while drowing in me, and that was the final straw.

I finally let go, and I feel my juices cover his mouth, chin, and fingers as he continues to ride out my high. I arch my back off the bed, and the most pornographic moans leave my mouth.

I start to recover, and his movements begin to slow. He eventually separates his mouth from my pussy and he slips his fingers out. He moves his body back up to my face, and he places soft kisses against my mouth, and I taste myself on his tongue.

"That was..." I begin to say but realise I can't find words powerful enough to describe how amazing that was. He just smiles lazily at me.

He then moves to lay beside me on the bed, I'm still catching my breath as I hear him wince. I look over and see him looking down. I follow his gaze over to where his dick is basically fighting it's way out of his jeans. He's rock hard. I bet it hurts.

I look over at him once again and smirk before moving off the bed and bringing myself to the floor between his legs...

a/n; should I do a p2 to this??? let me know, and I'll do it, I'm also taking requests, it doesn't have to be smut. I'm happy to write cute one shots or fluffs with Matt, Chris, or Nick. anyway, thank you for readingg, love you <33.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Catching up! So today we’re mostly having replies related to all the stuff we posted recently.

Starting with the most important question.

Anonymous asked:

Wait, Idia got called a brocon? When?

He did! Grim called him a brocon in 5-13 right after we saw Ortho for the first time :3 (timestamp on 5:42 just in case)

Anonymous asked:

How does that smoke beer donut taste?

(this is about this drawing)

Very smoky! And like something Gidel isn’t supposed to eat…

Anonymous asked:

I wanna see some of your traditional art

Actually, Anon, you’re looking at it…

The majority of things that we post daily was originally drawn traditionally, and then coloured digitally. I really want to do more art that is 100% traditional, but never get a chance to for a bunch of reasons :(

Anonymous asked:

I love your analysis holy cow! see its because of Book 5 that i cant stop seeing Vil and Rook as mom and dad. i love this ship mind you, (they are my comfort ship and it gives me life whenever you draw them you beautiful soul) but even if some didnt see them as a romantic couple--in my opinion they still have that VIBE you know? Like whenever they're there you just cant help but feel like BRO THEY WOULD BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES AND THEN GROUND YOU AND SEND YOU TO YOUR ROOM FOR FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL is it just a me feeling?

(this is related to this post)

Thank you for your kind words, Anon! I am very happy you enjoyed the analysis and that you like my RookVil art <3

Yeah, I think these two being very parental is pretty obvious and pretty intentional! All jokes aside, Pomefiore trio really feels like it was written in a way that they would read as a family. We don’t usually like this trope because characters playing house could get pretty boring, and a lot of family-related tropes don’t resonate with us at all. So I am surprised to this day that we love Pomefiore’s vibes so much. I’m guessing that it’s because of how unusual of a family they are, how Epel actually fights with Vil a lot, and how he grows from being a little brat to being a little brat that is eager to grow and excited to show his senpais his new cool magic tricks, while they tease him but still are very proud and excited for him. Like, they’re strict and would smack him (well, Vil would) but they also want him to grow. Woah, that sounds way too wholesome ew lol

Anyways! Even if we exclude Epel, and this is another thing I’ve talked about a lot, I genuinely feel like Rook and Vil were intentionally written as a couple that has been together for quite some time, at least coding-wise. There are just too many tropes and situations that they have that are usually used for couples… Alright I’ll stop myself or I’ll rant about them again even though I just did a couple of weeks ago.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I just love baby Vil so much, makes me wonder what happened

(this is about this drawing)

Adults with shitty opinions + kids that can’t separate reality from fiction happened… truly, two of the worst things that could happen to a possible friendship between actors.

A couple of asks about this drawing:

Anonymous asked:

Oh oh! I saw! Che'nya art! We (smiley kitty fans) are starving! Thank you for the food! It is delicious! May we have another plate, please?

Poor smiley kitty fans! :( I am so sorry you’re starving! Please enjoy your food.

Unfortunately I don’t have any more smiley catfood for you…….. yet.

Anonymous asked:

*see Chenya *

*starts biting at the bars of my containment*

Better question for him..... What that tongue do??? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

What that tongue doesn’t do, Anon? Wink

Anonymous asked:

Question. How much of Riddle's body do you think Che'nya would lick to clean him?

In theory, he’d probably get bored pretty quickly, but I kind of want him to just keep licking… Riddle thought it would be over 15 minutes ago, but Che’nya’s still licking… The moment he would be done with his face, ears and head (cat saliva in Riddle’s hair…), Riddle would realise that Che’nya is determined to lick him all over. Time to call Trey…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

Riddle gets licked my Chenya often in my lil delulu ass world

Sometimes Che’nya randomly appears, licks his cheek and disappears again.

Anonymous asked:

Bro I gotta know, what do the tweel's dick(s) look like on their merform? I was scrolling on ur bluesky and saw this one with jade and idia and something between idia's legs and I was like "is that his dick?" If so DAYUM! May that bussy rest in peace

Love your art and speedpaints btw💗

Thank you for enjoying my art and especially my speedpaints! I am very happy to hear that <3

Hehe I’m glad you liked that one! I had a lot of fun with that piece.

I feel like I draw merpeen differently every single time lol but I love the design we came up with for that Jade/Idia drawing, and in fact I do have a post in which I talk about how it probably works! There aren��t any pictures there, but there are some interesting thoughts…

[ihopesocomic]

My Pride is weird bc the gore for shock value is really the only thing "adult" about it. As far as plot and characters and themes it fits right in with YA xenofiction - yes, even "mature themes" like abuse and oppression are often covered in children's media like Wings of Fire and AtLA, that's not exclusive to adults. I feel like MP was actually intended for the same type of audience, but they added the unserious bobblehead disclaimers at the last minute bc they realized angry parents might come after them if their kids watched a Lion King-style YouTube video that turned out to be super violent and bloody.

Its really hard to tell who the audience for MP was outside of "people who were already fans of Tribble's warrior cat/cotw content". Can't be for children, cuz there's warnings (well "warnings" in the form of cute widdle bobbleheads with little fun quips from the characters)

Like is this for teens? I mean I know teens like a lot of crappy stuff (not me tho, I've always had impeccable taste /sarcasm)

Is this for adults? Cuz the messaging and writing is almost unfathomably immature. The messaging was so bad, people still don't understand what's so "problematic" about it. They think RJ and I are just mad because ableism and homophobia is in it. Like why do we have to keep explaining things to people. If people used their brains, or consumed literally anything else, they'd arrive to the conclusion themselves. After all a ton of the opinions we expressed in our video were already expressed by lots of other people beforehand and they didn't need us to tell them what to think lol

Even the violence was immature, which I can say because I love me some creative violence in my movies/shows. There's science behind violence, so you'd think a show that prides itself as being a "more mature Lion King" and believing itself to have a more realistic portrayal of lions, it would have realistic violence, but nope.

The violence in this show is sometimes hilariously censored, like for some reason Barkmane's body was completely blurred out when they had no qualms about showing Starmane and Quickmane's body, their injuries were not even indicative to anything based in reality

Karabi's throat was slashed open and her voice actor was just groaning (not the voice actor's fault, this is the fault of the director) and I dunno, I feel like I've seen enough slasher films to know a convincing dying noise when I hear one, but I don't expect people working for me to know what that sounds like so as a director it would be my responsibility to... you know... direct.

And Sharptongue's death, like I still don't know what was supposed to even be wrong with her. She just started having a coughing fit and died off-screen.

AND YET MP somehow manages to be really fucked up in its mediocrity?? Because it just shrugs off child death like the characters do. And Tangle's death was used for a joke.

It's not like resources aren't out there, people have been posting videos of lions killing each other on youtube for years lol

"Adult shows" that are easily outshined by kids shows in maturity are fascinating to me, and they're more commonplace and I don't know why. At least two other "adult shows" have so little respect for the intelligence of their audience that they put in a shit ton of information that adults get mad when they have to think about things. And/or they are so embarrassingly safe it's almost like they're made specifically to cater to kids.

I mean the fuckin Lion King straight-to-video sequel had an effective abusive family dynamic, so what's the excuse here exactly. (I mean I know the answer, it's because Tribble pulled heavily from Warrior Cats and didn't improve upon it.) - Cat

[fenharel-babe]

Meow

Solas gets some…interesting news about the Inquisitor, and is shocked when he sees her again.

This is based on this post that I loved so long ago and finally am actually writing. It’s gonna be longer and cuter but have this for right now.

@emmg here you go :))). I would’ve reblogged your other post of showing WIPs but I’m on mobile rn and do not feel like copying it all one at a time since this WIP is deep in my drafts LMAO.

.

He honestly didn’t know how to deal with it. When he heard whispers of the news, he was shocked and saw it as a joke rumor that Sera spread.

But hers usually were physical pranks, not this.

Bloom was supposed to arrive at Skyhold that morning. Solas, like he always did, waited in the rotunda for her. She always came there when she arrived, no matter how tired she was. She loved getting a quick hug from him before she did whatever other business she needed to do. She’d also maybe sneak a kiss or two before she would leave. But that morning, she didn’t arrive as herself. She arrived as…

A cat.

A. Cat.

At first, he didn’t know it was her. He waited and waited that morning, but she never came to greet him, and he even heard the people whisper and say, “The inquisitor is back!” He assumed that maybe she had urgent matters to attend to, not even having time to stop by and see him. He understood that, and wouldn’t blame her. Even if a small part of him was sad he didn’t see her.

That is, until Cassandra came marching into the rotunda. He stood up quickly, expecting some kind of emergency, but instead saw her coming towards him with a small cat. The cat was white with orange and black spots around her face and on her body, and had a tail that was black. The eyes were bright blue, which was not usually found in cats.

Cassandra walked up to him and gently placed the cat on his table. She sighed and ran a hand across her forehead. “So, we have an issue.”

The cat immediately walked over to Solas, carefully avoiding his books, and sat on the edge of the desk. It stood up and reached its paws towards him. It meowed at him, and kept meowing and reaching for him.

He sat back down with an unease look on his face. “What’s the issue involving a cat?” At the mention of its presence, it reached out again for him, meowing. He gently pet the top of its head, smiling when it leaned into his hand, arching its back when he trailed his hand down.

“The cat is the inquisitor,” Cassandra said blankly.

He froze and looked up at her with wide eyes. “The cat is what?” He looked at the cat and pulled his hand back immediately. The cat meowed multiple times again, as if she’s trying to explain, but she gives up and makes a growling sound.

Cassandra sighed. “There were some mages that attacked us, and they cast a spell and it must’ve gone wrong.” She looked down at the cat—who she claims is Bloom—and gently taps her paw. “She seems to be conscious and not completely a cat, but…she’s stuck looking like this.” Her face and tone was completely serious, but she was worried. As a cat, Bloom had more chances of being hurt or even carried away by someone.

“Bloom?” Solas asked. The cat looked over immediately and meowed. He thought of how to prove it was her, and not a random cat. “Show me where my sketchbook is,” he ordered. Only Bloom knew where it was, and a regular cat couldn’t just find it by chance. The cat immediately jumped down and went over to the paint cans in the corner of the room. They were covered by a big cloth, but she squeezed her way under it, and he could hear some scratching on the floor. Only a few moments later did the book come sliding across the floor, with her following soon after.

“I have never seen a spell like this before,” Solas said. He picked up the sketchbook, quietly laughing when Bloom ran over to him and pawed at his arm. Guessing what she wanted, he picked her up and carried her back to the desk, setting her on top. “I’m assuming some sort of transformation spell went wrong.” He sighed and looked above to the library. “I’ll have to do some research to fix this issue. I’m not certain about how long it will take.”

Cassandra nodded and glanced at Bloom. “Well, what do we do about her? She can’t just walk around Skyhold like a normal cat. She could get injured, or even taken away.”

“Have someone watching her at all times, then,” Solas suggested. He went to speak again, but the door opened again. It opened quick and loud, causing Bloom to yowl and moved to be beside Cassandra.

“Where is our lovely inquisitor? I have heard some…interesting news,” Dorian said with a barely contained smile. He gasped when he heard Bloom let out a high noise, and he went still as he saw her jump down from the desk. She ran over to Dorian and pawed at his leg, meowing very loudly. “I thought Sera was pulling my leg,” he said as he picked her up gently. She meowed at him even more before he laughed and gently poked her noise. “Dear, remember I cannot understand you. Talking like this is a waste of time.” She growled slightly before she went quiet again.

“Do you have a guess of how long this will take? I already know Josephine is panicking about all the things she has to put on hold,” Cassandra said with a little snort.

Solas looked away as he thought. “It can probably take a few days?” He guessed. He looked at Dorian. “I will need assistance to fix this as quickly as possible.” He ignored the small feeling of jealousy at seeing Bloom relaxing in Dorian’s arms.

“Aww, we can’t just keep her this tiny for awhile?” Dorian cooed. He rolled his eyes when Bloom growled again. “Fine, fine, we’ll fix this as soon as possible. Let’s go to the library and see what we have. I bet Vivienne is already on the case,” he said with a little chuckle. He walked over to Solas and held her out, almost dropping her into Solas’s arms.

“Be careful!” Cassandra scolded the two.

“Cats always land on their feet, she would’ve been fine if she fell. Besides, dear Solas would never let her fall.” He gestured towards the stairs that led to the library. “Now, shall we?”

.

.

[emshiftss]

I think I almost shifted

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒 𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

I woke up around 9 this morning and was kinda irritated that the night prior my cat was being annoying when I went to lay down and meditate but I just shrugged it off, it’s Christmas anyways.

I then saw a post on Reddit regarding a way to have your body asleep and mind awake. I thought it was kind of interesting and made a mental note to try it out and laid down and contemplated just shifting right then and there. Most times when I “try” to shift it’s not in the morning due to everyone being up and what not. But I was, still am, kind of just over my shifting journey at this point.

Instead of referencing the info I saw on Reddit I just began to think of my plans my first day in my DR. Eventually my dad turned the heat on because it was so cold and I just decided to let myself rest more bc I didn’t sleep well.

I continued to think of my first day as I drifted off to sleep and how annoyed I was with my journey.

Eventually I slipped into a dream, a very strange one at that, an experience I’ve never had before really.

It began with me trying cake for my wedding (?) and for a bit it was somewhat normal. I’m not sure when exactly my dream changed but I remember being in the car with my sister and dad, he was driving us home. At this point I was constantly teetering on being awake and in a dream, and it’s clear to me now that in this dream I thought I was awake and living out today.

My dad mentioned how he picked up Chinese food for my mom, and I thought that was weird because he was supposed to make wings tonight. I remember joking with my sister that it sucks he did that because we were planning to get Chinese food later.

This dream was so vivid… I remember looking out of the car on the way home and it was so beautiful, the way the light was going through the trees the architecture. I thought to myself “I don’t remember this place ever looking like this.. so odd” there were so many indicators in this dream that I feel like I should’ve gotten lucid but I never did…?

Anyways we got home and the only parts I remember is I was standing on the couch for some reason (it was also in a different spot) and there was a wolf there??? I called out for my dad and when he came into the living room the wolf was gone. He looked at me strangely and said something like “did you not drink enough coffee today” and I remember thinking that that was such a strange thing for him to say in general but also in that moment as I stood on the couch claiming there was a literal wolf in our living room. But still I didn’t become lucid.

Instead I laid on the couch I said to myself “I’m just gonna shift instead” and right when I closed my eyes and said I’m in my DR, my body began buzzing all over, I began to feel as though I was floating and my surroundings around me began to warp. I got excited but stayed focused, I continued saying “I am in my DR” and I imagined where I was gonna wake up, what I would be wearing… and the sensations became more extreme. I continued to persist. But unfortunately something woke me up here.

It was such an odd experience, I’ve lucid dreamt many times and tried shifting via a dream many times before too. But never anything like this where I thought I was awake and just subconsciously did an attempt?????? This feels like a good thing but… where does this leave me? What does this mean, and why didn’t I shift :(

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒 𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[mychoombatheroomba]

Not a Word

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 48

After a brief night of celebration, the final test begins.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

Sunlight strained through trees.

Music, playing so softly you could barely hear it. 

Warmth in your heart, blooming from the fresh memory of his touch. 

I love you. 

The words Leon had whispered to you as your skin pressed up against his. A secret more devastating and dangerous than any of the reports that Krauser had given to you. 

He loved you. And you hadn’t been able to say it back. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not as the two of you redressed yourselves, nor as you lingered in the woods for a little while longer, listening to the radio and eating the sandwiches Doc had intended only for you. You should have been enjoying the final day together - a day that had so luckily happened to fall on a holiday once again. Instead, you couldn’t stop thinking of those words, from the walk back to base proper, well into the evening. 

An evening that should have offered some distraction. 

STRATCOM recruits worked hard, but on the Fourth of July? On the last day before their final test? They played even harder. 

Your stolen radio was just as celebrated as the fact that, for your squad, training was almost over. The months of pain and pressure were coming to a close, and as your squad gathered in the barracks that night, pushing bunks out of the way, you were happy to try and drown your screaming thoughts in the music. To watch your fellow recruits dance and laugh. To watch Leon smiling and trying not to look at you as the two of you gravitated towards each other. 

He loved you. 

You remained on the edges of the party, not sure whether to thank God or damn him for that love. You’d known, you supposed, but now it was real. Tangible. Lingering like the growing soreness in your body. There was no way to ignore it, to set it aside. What was that box with the cat inside of it? The one where you weren’t sure if it was alive or dead? Well, it was alive and well and now you had a life in your hands that you didn’t know what to do with. Because soon enough, it would be Leon that could be either living or dying and he loved you and you didn’t know how you could-

“I’m stealing your pretty boy,” Valeria pulled you from your thoughts just as she pulled Leon towards the cleared out space in the middle of the bunkhouse. His eyes widened and he tried to protest, but you just smiled and shrugged, not coming to his rescue. 

Watching him dance with the others was funny enough to outshine your turbulent mind for a moment. You got the feeling that Selena wasn’t what he usually listened to, let alone danced to. Still, you knew better than anyone that he was a fast learner. Valeria and the others laughed, and it wasn’t long before Leon was laughing too, finding an easy rhythm as songs went by. 

And for a moment, you found yourself caught in a different memory, same circumstances; same stupid, happy music, but different faces. 

Faces that had been warped and twisted not by time and memory but by a weapon without a blade or trigger-

“Not gonna dance, Sarge?” Alenko had once been hesitant to talk to you. Hell, most people on base had been. Now, he left the dance floor and wiped his brow with an easy smile and nothing but friendly affection for you in his eyes. 

Williams answered for you, shaking her head and approaching after her friend. “Nah. Having fun? This one? Maybe when hell freezes over.” She had a teasing tone to her voice that was familiar but not entirely welcome . . . but welcome or not, that tease made itself at home and started brewing a feeling of amusement in you. 

“Or when you learn to not overcommit on your slashes,” you shot back, earning a smile from Williams in turn. “That’d be just as likely.” Still, even with the joke, you didn’t move. 

Not until Alenko came and sat at your side, his voice lowering so others couldn’t hear you as well. “Come on,” he said, “it’s our last night all together. Can’t be a proper unit without our Sergeant.” 

Even with how those words stung, you almost said no. At least, until Leon looked over at you from the dance floor, looking younger and happier than you’d ever seen him. 

You’d prided yourself on your defenses, once. Now, they crumbled so easily. 

“Fine,” you said, and you had to try to sound annoyed as you stood, feeling like you were stepping into the past.

Against all your best efforts, against everything in you screaming to make it not so, you had fun that night. Dancing to whatever other stupid songs came on the radio, trading muted but real smiles and laughs with the men and women you’d trained alongside . . . sharing glances with the man who loved you. 

Who you loved in turn. 

“I owe you an apology for that first day too,” Leon told you, a little out of breath, as the two of you stepped off the impromptu dance floor for a break. 

“I seem to recall you were the one that walked away with a bruised face that day,” you pointed to the matching scrapes you’d picked up in the woods that matched. 

Leon chuckled but shook his head. “Nah. I said you couldn’t dance. Think you proved me wrong tonight.” 

You just laughed at that, because you honestly hadn’t even remembered that snide remark of his until now. “Glad to know I haven’t lost that skill entirely.” 

“Well, maybe we’ll have to try again some other time,” Leon offered with a low voice and a shrouded smirk. Dancing with him again. In the future. He sounded so hopeful when he said it. Hopeful . . . and afraid. Still, he’d always been good at hiding his fear. “You know, practice makes perfect and all that.”

God, you loved him.

“That is what they say.” 

You didn’t get the chance to tell him that night, though, as Krauser knocked on the barracks door and told you all to get some rest. All you did was try to memorize his smile. God, you would move mountains for that smile. It was a smile that you held on to as you all turned in for the night, one you clung to as you lay in your bunk. His smile, the feeling of him, all the moments you’d stolen with him. You thought of it all as you went to sleep. 

Sunlight strained through trees.

Music, playing so softly you could barely hear it. 

Warmth in your heart, blooming from the fresh memory of his touch. 

I love you. 

It was, by all accounts, the best day you’d had in a long damn time. 

You only hoped that Leon felt the same. That you’d given him enough to hold on to when he passed his test - and you knew he would pass his test - and went into the world. You hoped that whatever horrors he would face, he would remember the sun and your touch on his skin and find the will to keep fighting. 

You hoped that he knew, even if you hadn’t spoken the words, that you loved him. 

You hoped he knew.

⧫⧫⧫

Krauser had told them he’d wake them all at 0200 - that the test would begin in earnest then, that it would span over the next three days. Leon wasn’t surprised when the door to the barracks was knocked open at 0100 instead. 

Just as well, he hadn’t been able to sleep much anyway. He’d allowed himself to get lost in thoughts of you. Memories of your touch, of how you’d felt. 

As soon as Krauser came through that door, though, Leon did his best to push those thoughts aside. It would be days before he saw you again, he couldn’t let you distract him any more than normal. Easier said than done, when only a few hours before you’d been above him, framed by sunlight and-

Leave it to you to find a way to make this just a little more challenging for him. 

You rose with everyone else, even if you weren’t going to be coming along. It seemed that you hadn’t been sleeping much, either. Leon hoped the thoughts keeping you awake would be more pleasant ones, but he knew there was likely more on your mind than just your time with him. Leon glanced over at you as he got ready, unable not to. Not just because you had given him a memory he would never forget, but because you should have been going with. You should be putting your skills to the test alongside the rest of them. His only solace was that you wouldn’t be deployed with the rest any time soon. 

You would be safe for just a little while longer. 

He knew that would be of no consolation to you, though. That was likely why your smile wasn’t genuine when you caught him looking at you.

Even so, you made your way over to him, just before the squad moved out. “You ready?” you asked, searching Leon’s eyes for the truth of his answer. 

And honestly? No, he wasn’t. He didn’t fear the days of tests that awaited him, however grueling and cruel Krauser and Hellman were going to be. He feared what would happen if he passed - and he had to pass, didn’t he? The government wanted their toy soldier. Their weapon. If he didn’t pass this test . . . well, for Sherry, he wouldn’t let that happen. 

That meant there was only one path open to him. One that led straight towards the nightmares you’d kept at bay. Still, he didn’t want you worrying for him any more than you already were. 

“As I’ll ever be,” he answered, technically with the truth. 

“You’re ready,” you reassured him, surprising him with the certainty of the words. 

He gave you a little smile. “Not gonna tell me to stop worrying about everyone else and start worrying about myself?” 

“You gonna start listening?” 

He laughed at that, but as it faded, his look became more meaningful. “Wouldn’t have made it this far without you, you know.” He spoke because it was some truth that had been weighing on him, but you just shook your head. 

“Yes, you would’ve. You would have found a way to get where you needed to be.” 

Leon just swallowed, then, his lips pursing before he spoke again, quieter this time. “It wasn’t the sparring that kept me going.” 

Your eyes flashed, your lips parting. Whatever you were going to say, Leon could see it get stuck in your throat. He realized then that he’d pushed it too far, perhaps. That he was saying too much, even if it was all truth. When you didn’t respond to his admission right away, Leon just tilted his head in a shrug, trying to play off the awkward pause. “Sorry. Running my mouth a lot today.” 

“Just today?” You raised a brow, and he laughed. 

“Alright, most days.” You scoffed and shook your head, just as a sharp knock sounded on the barracks door. Time to go. “I’d tell you how it all goes when we get back, but-” you didn’t give Leon the chance to finish. 

“That would defeat the purpose of the test?” 

The two of you shared a knowing smile at the joke that felt older than it actually was.

“Have to keep things fair, don’t we?”

You hummed as you nodded, looking to the door, then the rest of your squad, and then back to Leon. “Go on,” you urged, nearly reaching for him before you stopped yourself. “Go kick ass.” 

Leon didn’t intend to refuse an order from you. 

So, he decided as he loaded his pack up with rations and everything else, as he and the others received their rifles - loaded with blanks, of course - and formed up in line under the street lamps one last time. Krauser and Hellman stood before them all, and Leon was glad that the agent stayed back to let the Major speak instead. 

“I’ve asked more from you all than any other instructor has in your careers,” he began, his gaze sweeping the line of ten before him. “And you all have met those demands. That is why you’re standing here today. You’ve found ways to overcome every obstacle that’s been thrown your way, and you’ll need to continue to do so because this world is going to ask more of you than it has of any other soldiers before. And even if soldiers aren't exactly what you’re going to be at the end of all this, you are all still some of the finest men and women I’ve been in command of.” Leon could feel the pride in those words, just as he felt the stab of a challenge as Krauser’s eyes met his. “Course, you’ve still got fifty-four hours to prove me wrong.” The Major gave a warning sign in the form of a smile. Trouble was, Leon didn’t fear that look. Not anymore. That was why he was able to return the expression, however faintly. Krauser tilted his chin up at the mirrored taunt, and Leon saw that smile grow.

Maybe he shouldn’t have played with that particular fire, because his own last name was burning at his ears a moment later. “Kennedy! Soto!” Krauser called, and Leon and Valeria both stepped forward. The two that Hellman wanted gone, that only stayed thanks to Krauser’s own intervention. “You two will be squad leaders during our little test.” Leon felt himself suck a breath in at that order, because he hadn’t expected it. “You will be responsible for the men under you. Their successes are your successes, their failures are your failures. Am I understood?” 

There was no room for argument. “Sir, yes sir!” 

Krauser nodded once. Gestured with his chin down the road that waited for them all. “Then stop wasting time and move out!” 

The squad obeyed without complaint, and so it began. The beginning of the end. 

Through the night, they marched, out of the base and into the hills and forest outside. Krauser and Hellman rode ahead in a truck, and a few other instructors remained with the squad for the march. There was little sound in those first few miles. Only the sounds of footsteps against the dirt path and the forest around them coming to life . . . but then . . . 

Williams started it. Humming softly one of the songs that had been on the radio the night before. One Leon recognized immediately. 

“Thought you hated the Spice Girls?” he grinned, looking over his shoulder at the tall woman. 

She just shrugged. “Maybe they’re growing on me.” 

He couldn’t help but smile at that, because it was almost a way for you to be here. Almost. He didn’t know he could be so sentimental about a soldier who’d given him more bruises than kisses . . . but here he was. The instructors along with the group didn’t seem to appreciate it when some of the other squad members joined in, singing along as the group traveled through the dark with just their flashlights to guide them. 

By the time morning came around properly, the songs had been stamped out in favor of birds and the forest around them stirring . . . and a sound that made Leon and the other nine recruits freeze in their tracks. A hissing-growl that Leon wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly, at first. 

It echoed through the trees, bouncing off the trees and setting ice forming in Leon’s blood. 

Because Leon knew that sound - he’d learned all too quickly in Raccoon City that answering that sound with one of his own would mean death. It would mean a skinless monstrosity with a maw of saw teeth and claws like butcher’s knives coming his way. Thanks to the reports Reed and Hellman had gone over with the squad, they knew too. Still, Leon raised a finger to his lips as he looked over at his comrades, his first command as squad leader delivered without words. 

Not a word . . . not a sound. 

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Chapter Index

[singaporehelmet]

under his teeth.

norstappen angst 💘

a quick quick norstappen drabble based on this post, as a request from my friend!

Lando shouldn't have felt so relieved when Max crossed the finish line ahead of him for the millionth time — Lando wasn't about to count all of them, but he assumed it was a lot — but he felt it anyway. It’s over, it's over, it's over it's over it's over it's over. Those were the only words on Lando’s brain.

Not just the championship fight, no. He was disappointed to be out of it, but relieved that there wouldn't be more pressure than he already put on himself throughout the whole season. He was relieved because it meant Max, and it meant mending whatever little rift had formed between them ever since Zandvoort and that got way more intense in Austin.

He had told himself over and over and over again over the past month or so that he wouldn't, couldn't go back to Max. That he wouldn't be friendly, wouldn't be there. Was it reassurance, or was Lando just trying to convince himself that he felt absolutely nothing for Max? That he wouldn't crawl back to Max like he did?

It was the latter. Because when Lando saw Max in the media pen, he took an immediate detour, walking up to Max and congratulating him himself. Lando pretended that his heart wasn't fluttering wildly when Max handled him like he was a kitten, pulling him close by the scruff of the neck.

But Max’s words echoed in his brain the whole way back to the hotel. He had gotten a ride with his teammate to the hotel, and he was used to Oscar's absolute silence most of the time around him. They weren't the best of friends, and Lando didn't mind the quietness at all.

Lando had simply said “Next year I’ll get you,” and it was mostly a joke, because Lando knew (and believed) that Max was absolutely incredible. But Max’s response was what took him off guard. “I told you. Many times. There will be a day you’ll be world champion.”

Those words were so simple, and yet they struck a chord within Lando’s brain. What did Max mean by that? Lando knew Max believed in him, but he always thought it was some kind of… power trip? PR move? But even if this was said in front of cameras, it was meant for only Lando to hear. And that warmed his heart in ways he couldn't even imagine.

After showering at the hotel, Lando plopped down on the bed and opened his Instagram, hovering over the post button for a moment before decidingly pulling together a quick one congratulating Max and throwing his phone away to the other side of the bed.

He knew what this was, of course. He knew it like the back of his hand, the feeling of falling and slipping down a slope that led to Max Verstappen. He stared at the beige ceiling, the bright Strip lights shining through the window, the curtains still open.

Lando knew he shouldn't, knew he had to cut it off before it would go too far again. He had set his foot down, decided not to do anything related to Max, decided to cut him off when he started getting too rough on the race.

But why was his heart this heavy? Why was he feeling the deep, deep urge to march over to Max’s room and spill his little heart out when he promised himself he wouldn't? He promised himself he wouldn't go back to staying under Max’s claws, because the last time he had allowed himself to do so he got thrown off the track twice in the same race.

But his feet seemed to move to their own accord, and soon he found himself standing in front of Max’s hotel room, biting down on his bottom lip so hard he could taste blood. He barely tapped his fist against the door and it was opening, a disgruntled Max standing cross armed in front of him.

“I was wondering how long you'd take to stop being a scaredy cat,” Max murmured, pulling Lando’s arm and leading the Brit inside the room, hands all over his body. Damn it, this wasn't supposed to happen this way.

“I’m not scared,” Lando replied, keeping his arms firm against the sides of his body, even as Max started to lean in closer. “I have morals, Max. And you've been nothing but an asshole to me ever since Austin. You know damn well I was ahead at the apex and that you purposely pushed me off.”

“I did,” Max admitted, pushing Lando back until his knees were hitting the edge of the bed and he was being pushed down into the mattress, a heavy weight settling on top of him. Max was warm, much like the orange that represented his country, much like the cars they raced. “And you did nothing about it. You thought you'd slip away from me, didn't ya?”

“Max, don't,” Lando protested weakly, but all thoughts left his brain when Max rolled them over and tucked Lando into his chest, a warm arm around his shoulders. “I’m not your goddamn puppy, Max. You can't keep expecting me to come back.”

“But you always do,” Max countered, pressing a kiss to Lando’s forehead, and then another to the top of his head. “You whine and you complain, but you're always here. You trust me enough to know I won't do any long lasting damage, so you're always here.”

“I hate you,” Lando whispered, and it was the truth. He hated Max with all his being, wanted to be like him, wanting to be with him, wanting to be freed from the grip this man had on him. But he couldn't. He never had the strength to do so. “I hate you so much. You can't keep treating me like this. This is the last time I’m here, Max. And then you go off to have your merry life with your girlfriend and her kid.”

Max just chuckled, and Lando felt the other man's chest rumble beneath him. Lando gripped the edge of Max’s shirt so hard the material ripped a bit, but his traitorous body relaxed in the Dutchman’s presence, lulling him to sleep. But even then, as he fell deep into the world of dreams, he promised himself he wouldn't do this again, a few tears slipping past his eyes.

But for now, he’d put his trust in Max again, to trust he wouldn't do any harm to Lando. And, of course, that would always be a stupid thing to believe in. Max didn't give a fuck about Lando, but it was such a power trip that made Lando’s head spin.

But Lando was a sheep going straight to the wolf's mouth; a lamb choosing to be sacrificed; a cat that never strayed too far. He was willingly putting himself under Max's teeth again, trusting the man not to bite. Even though he would.