#and then you get to the end and it's like. i'm not sure i know who this person is

[sarahroutldge]

i love you, i'm sorry.

a/n: requested based on a prompt list - the dialogue prompt is in bold! gif not mine, all credits to the creator (also the title has nothing to do with the song, it was just stuck in my head lol)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj maybank drunkenly hooked up a few nights ago, and neither of you know how to deal with that. (routledge!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff/humor, angst w/ a happy ending, implied sexual content, drinking, semi-proofread, I think that's it

John Booker Routledge never thought he’d actually have to tell his best friend JJ Maybank that his little sister was off limits. Not once did it ever occur to him that JJ would ever think of you in a different way; he hardly liked to consider the idea that you dated anyone in the first place, let alone that you’d express any interest in the man he knew inside-and-out.

But things change and people get older. After you and the rest of the Pogues found El Dorado and began construction on Poguelandia, JJ started to see you differently. Sure, he always found you attractive, but JJ also found every woman he encountered attractive, so he never thought much of it. 

And you certainly didn’t ever think of JJ in that way either. At heart, you were a relationship girl; and while the fact that you were single was proof enough that no relationship of yours had worked out in the past, one of your greatest strengths was that you knew what you wanted. You didn’t seek out something casual because you knew you’d be left unfulfilled. You wanted something all-consuming and destined for marriage. Seeing your older brother grow and mature in his relationship with Sarah Cameron only clarified that further. In your mind, if the second-most relationship-allergic person you knew (after JJ of course) was able to dive headfirst into marriage with a girl so remarkably different from himself, then you decided you wouldn’t settle for any less.

Feelings, however, have a funny way of messing with plans and expectations. While JJ had essentially lived with you and your brother for years, building Poguelandia only pushed the two of you even further together. And watching someone so unpredictable and chaotic as JJ tame himself for the sake of his friends and his future stirred something in you that you hadn’t been expecting at all.

Over the months, your interactions with JJ changed, little by little, and for a while neither of you noticed. It just grew natural for JJ to fix something in the bait shop that you were fussing over, or for you to bring JJ a sandwich or a snack while he worked. You found little ways to make the other’s day brighter, even if subconsciously you never even considered why you were doing these little favors in the first place.

What actually brought the two of you together wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, however. One night, after a long day of work on the house, the Pogues found themselves hanging out above the bait shop, buzzed off of beers, seltzers, and a few joints made of flower grown right from Kiara’s secret spot in the garden. And while the rest of the Pogues eventually found their ways inside and to sleep, JJ and you probably drank a bit too much. One thing led to another, and that was the first night you hooked up. It was slow, passionate, and clumsy, and while the both of you would later blame it on the alcohol and the weed, deep inside you were both fully aware that it was simply the end result of months of pining.

And that’s how you found yourself waking up on the hammock above the bait shop in only one of JJ’s t-shirts and a pair of underwear. The combination of the blinding North Carolina sunrise along with John B.’s extremely loud footsteps on the floor below practically forced your eyes open. While you play the night before over in your head, trying to piece it all together, you’re scrambling to get the rest of your clothes on.

Running downstairs with your shoes untied, you let out a huge “oof” as you collide with your brother, almost sending the two of you to the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sis,” John B. says, his eyes expressing his confusion at the fact that you obviously slept upstairs last night.

“Oh, um, sorry, JB, I guess I just drank too much last night and crashed on the hammock,” you practically vomit out.

“Riiiiight,” John B. responds, clearly not convinced but nonetheless wholly uninterested in this situation in the first place. “Just, uh, go shower. You stink.”

Assuming John B.’s comment is a joke, you let out a laugh that immediately sounds forced. “Yeah, uh, that’s what I planned on.”

John B. shoots you a thumbs-up before making his way behind the counter, clearly prepping to open the bait shop for customers. Deciding to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, you begin to make your way back to the house. However, your brain can’t help but consider the possibility that only more awkwardness awaits you back in the house, which you’re really not ready to process. You spin around to face John B. at the entrance to the bait shop. “Hey, uh, is JJ up?”

John B. doesn’t even look up from whatever he’s doing at the counter, clearly focused on something else. “Yeah, he took his bike to the grocery store about ten minutes ago, I think.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, and then turn back around to make your way into the house. Occupied with trying to wrack your brain about what exactly happened last night, you again stumble into someone else as you walk through the kitchen.

“Ow,” Sarah squeaks. 

You immediately apologize, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well last night,” you explain, hoping she’ll move out of the way so you can make your way to your bedroom upstairs.

But Sarah, unfortunately, has the attention to detail that your brother lacks. Looking you in the eyes, her brows furrow. “Did you sleep outside last night?”

You scratch your head. “Uh, yeah. Just, uh, crashed after all those drinks, you know?”

One thing that Sarah does share with your brother, however, is her unwillingness to let things go. Clearly noticing that something is on your mind, her eyes stare into yours, as if she thinks that she can figure out everything about you based on your facial expressions alone. And evidently, she can, because she then proceeds to whisper-yell, “Y/N, is that a hickey?”

She lightly taps a new bruise on your neck that JJ must have left last night, and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the action. You bat her hand away, and she smirks when she realizes what you must be hiding. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you blurt out, before maneuvering yourself around Sarah and walking over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Whatever you say,” she taunts behind you, and you can practically hear her giggle as you make your way up the steps. 

Once you get to your bedroom, you lock the door behind you. Sliding down the wall, you let out a sigh, grateful that you met no more obstacles on the way upstairs. But as soon as your butt hits the ground, reality comes crashing down, and you realize that you have a much harder obstacle to deal with than running into one of your friends in the hallway. Instead, you have to deal with the fact that you slept with JJ Maybank—the man you’ve known practically your entire life who not only happens to be one of your closest friends, but even more than that, is your brother’s best friend. Yeah, you’re screwed.

For the next few days, JJ avoided you at all costs. He didn’t want to face the consequences of what you’d done, and was worried more than anything that his friendship with you (and John B. for that matter) would be ruined. And while you had the same idea for a while, within only a few days you decided that talking about it was the only way to move forward. Knowing JJ’s extensive dating history, you were convinced that JJ would only tell you that it was a mistake and a regret. You prepared herself for the negative, and found him alone at night in the employees-only area above the tackle and bait shop.

You carefully tiptoe up the stairs to prevent JJ from getting spooked and immediately bailing on the conversation. When he notices your presence, he shoots up from where he was laying on the hammock, just like you had anticipated. “JJ, we need to talk—”

“Y/N—”

“No, please, JJ, just let me speak,” you clarify, before walking closer to him. 

Realizing he doesn’t have any other choice, JJ sighs, gesturing for her to continue.

Working up the nerves, you wring your hands, preparing yourself for a moment that seemed more daunting than any of the actually threatening experiences you’d had with the Pogues over the last few years. “You know me, Jayj. You know that I don’t have one-night stands or casual relationships. And I can’t go on like this, pretending like what happened between us is normal or that I can just ignore it. I know that you’ve probably never had feelings for me, but if I don’t tell you this now, I’ll regret it. I… I like you, JJ.” Taking a breath, you step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Only now, you have to brace yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Looking into JJ’s eyes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that’s nothing short of terrifying. You’ve known JJ since he was a kid, and he’s not the best liar, so you can usually tell what he’s feeling from the moment you see him. But this time, you’re clueless, and the silence is deafening.

“JJ, please say something. If you’re going to tell me you don’t like me back, then just say it so we can move on and put this behind us.”

He brings his hands to his face, trying to piece the words together. “Just, uh, gimme a minute.” You nod at him, before moving to sit where he’d previously sat on the hammock. You swing your knees up to your chest, hugging them in comfort. 

You watch as he paces the floor around you. It’s not long before he speaks, but it feels like hours as you wait. 

“Y/N, I… We’ve been friends forever. You, me, and John B. It was the three of us for the longest time and then Pope came and then Kiara and… Uh, I’m getting off track.” He starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb as he looks down at the ground, preparing for what he’s about to say next. “I won’t lie—you’ve always been hot. Like super fucking hot. And I’m not good at relationships or whatever, but I… I like you, too.” 

And your ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, so your head immediately jerks up to meet his eyes. “Wait… you do?” 

He nods, and you can feel a smile beginning to form on your face. “Well, then, why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” JJ answers, and your heart immediately sinks in your chest, once again. “I can’t do this to John B., Y/N. I just can’t.”

“Who cares about him? He’ll get over it. John B. is not my problem.” 

“That’s the point, Y/N! He’ll be there for you no matter what. But the Pogues are basically all I have left. You and John B. are my family, and if I mess shit up with you, I’ll lose you both. And I can’t do that to myself.”

“You won’t mess it up, J,” you reassure, though part of you understands what he’s getting at.

“When have I not messed something up? I mess shit up all the time, and you mean too much to me for me to risk it. You need to go and find someone out there better than me, because as much as it’ll hurt me to see you with someone else, it’d be a lot worse if you were in pain and I was the reason. It’s because I’m in love with you that I wish we’d never done what we did,” he blurts out. 

And while you were trying your best to listen to him carefully, all you heard was him telling you that he’s in love with you. “You… You love me?” you whisper, and JJ’s eyes go back to the floor.

“Of course I fucking do! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and funny and weird and you know me better than anyone else, and I’ll never forgive myself if I ruin shit with you. So just let me go, because this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

As you process what JJ says, he rushes down the stairs. The heavy pattern of his boots hitting the wooden floors grabs your attention again, and you sprint downstairs to meet him before he can run away completely. You grab his hand and pull him towards you. When his head moves, you can see tears in his eyes, even as the sky gets darker. “It’s not okay to just leave me here after telling me you love me back,” you choke out.

“We can’t—we’ll never be together,” he bites back, trying to sound angry. But you can read right through him, and he knows it. You drop his arm and reach up to grab his face with your hands. Your thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“JJ, you’re right: I do know you better than anyone else. And yes, you’re not the best at relationships. But don’t you think that with us it could be different? That maybe because we know each other so well we can figure it out together?”

He begins to shake his head, but before he can get any more words out, you continue. “JJ, I know everything about you. I know the worst things you’ve done and the best things. You’re always calling me a know-it-all, and yet right now you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you that I know we can do this. We can do it, and it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it because I can’t picture myself loving anyone else the way I love you.” And as the tears stream down your cheeks, JJ inches a bit closer to you.

“You… You love me?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. How could I not? You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, bravest person I know and my life would be so unbelievably boring if you weren’t in it.”

His eyes look all over your face, trying to see if he can detect a lie. But all he sees is someone so convinced in their feelings, so articulate, and he can’t believe that it’s possible but he might just love you more than he did five minutes ago. 

“Let me deal with John B., okay? I get why you’re scared and I would never want to come between the two of you, but you deserve to be loved, JJ. And I want to be the one who gets to love you.” 

As soon as you get the words out, he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you’re so glad he reached out to hold your waist because otherwise you’d be falling to your knees. It’s magical and romantic and you can taste the salty years you’ve both shed. His right hand moves to grab the side of your face and pull you even closer somehow, before moving back down to your waist and squeezing you in anticipation. The two of you break away, panting. He grips you again and gestures for you to jump, which you do, and you wrap your legs around his back. He carries you over to the counter of the bait shop, where he sets you down. Your legs squeeze his, and he grabs ahold of your face with his hands. “Before we um… do anything else… Are you sure?”

You nod immediately. “Babe, I need the words.”

Your heart clenches at the term of affection, and you pull his shirt to bring him even closer to you. “I am absolutely, positively sure that I love you, JJ Maybank.” He grins so wide you start giggling.

He smashes his mouth back to yours, and this time the kiss is hotter and needier. It’s just a mess of clashing teeth, lips, and hands, with little “I love yous” whispered in between. 

JJ tugs on the bottom of your shirt, and you break away so that he can lift it off, throwing it somewhere else in the shop. His shirt follows, but before he can unclasp your bra, you push him back. “JJ, I’m not fucking you in the bait shop.”

“It’s dark out and no one’s gonna see—”

You jump down from the counter. “It’s either in the house or in the Twinkie. Your choice,” you challenge, and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, people do it all the time,” he justifies, and you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you ask.

“Hooking up in the bait shop, duh. I caught Pope and Cleo on top of the freezer once, and I’m pretty sure I saw Kiara making out with her ex-girlfriend behind the counter.”

You roll your eyes. “You are literally proving my point,” you say, and he scratches his head. 

“Well, I know for a fact that John B. and Sarah hooked up in the bait shop once and I didn’t see anything!” he explains.

“That’s not any better! You’re talking about my brother!” you whine, and JJ starts to see that you’re not budging. 

He lifts you up bridal-style into his arms, and you squeal. “Fine, my lady, my room it is.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Have you cleaned it recently?” you ask, knowing how messy his room gets. 

“Uh… Like, maybe not super recently. But I can make it nice,” he offers.

You squint. “As nice as my room?”

“Yeah, let’s just go to yours,” he says, and you giggle at how easily he gives in. As he walks down the talk, carrying you in his arms, you can see a smirk grow on his face. “But after we’re done, it’ll be as dirty as mine.”

“JJ!”

so... what did y'all think? I might consider making a part two where john b. finds out. is that something y'all would be interested in??

also... feedback is very much appreciated - pls comment, reblog, send asks, etc.!

[totalswag]

Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!

I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕

bed chem ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.

warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.

Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.

At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.

Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.

You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.

He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.

To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.

Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.

You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.

You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.

Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.

Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body. 

Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.

"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."

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[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[strangersteddierthings]

Made With Love

It takes one bite for Eddie to suspect he's done something wrong. A second bite confirms it. He's fucked up somehow and cannot for the life of him remember what it was.

Did he miss an important date of some sort? It couldn't have been their anniversary because that's August 13th (Eddie's new favorite day of the year, for obvious reasons). He absolutely didn't miss Steve's birthday. Not with how long he and Robin had spent planning the damn thing. (Eddie is never throwing another surprise party in his life; the stress of secret keeping was too much to bear.)

... Did he miss Robin's birthday?

No. That can't be. Steve would never let him miss that.

It could be one of the Party's birthdays, but Eddie doesn't think that's a transgression that would warrant this.

This, of course, being his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"What, your peanut butter's gone bad?"

Eddie lifts his eyes from the proof of Steve's anger at him to his coworker, Charlie, sitting across the table from him in the closet that Thatcher claims is the break room. "No. It's much worse than that, I'm afraid."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Charlie deadpans.

"This sandwich wasn't made with love," Eddie whines, looking back at the sandwich with as much sorrow as he can muster. He sets the sandwich down on the baggy he had pulled it out of so that he can frown down at it without having to touch the offending creation.

"Ah shit," Charlie says, voice filled with empathy. This is why he's Eddie's favorite coworker. He gets it. Possibly because he's the only person who's tasted the difference for himself, back when Eddie'd just started at Thatcher Tires. "What'd'ya do?"

"I don't know!" Eddie wails. "Everything was fine when I left this morning, or I thought it was anyway."

"Ain't your misses pretty good at lettin' you know you done fucked up?" Charlie, like the best coworker that he is, looks surprised that Eddie doesn't know what he's done. He's right, too. Steve is the goddamn king of petty, and Eddie has never struggled to know when Steve's mad at him. The struggle usually comes from Eddie refusing to be in the wrong.

(That's not to say that Eddie is always in the wrong. He's not. Sure, a good percent of their arguments Eddie is the one at fault and he's mature enough to admit so once the argument is over, but it's not always his fault.)

Anyway, the point is, regardless of who's at fault, Steve is angry at him about something and for the first time in months Eddie doesn't know what for. They'd promised each other, after their first very big fight that almost ended in a breakup and was over a misunderstanding, that they would tell each other why they're mad or upset or feeling some type of way. So for Eddie to not know...

He thinks he might have fucked up big time.

"I know!" Eddie cries, shoving the sandwich away from him to make room to drop his forehead onto the table, then turns to smoosh his cheek against the table so he can look at Charlie. "Charlie. Charlie what do I do?"

Charlie blows out a long breath, thinking, before he gives a decisive nod and says, "you gotta beg forgiveness."

Eddie knows Charlie's right. He doesn't know what he did but he's going to beg forgiveness anyway.

Which is how he now finds himself in the small floral section of the grocery store looking over the sad, wilted bouquets after work. His arms are already full with Steve's favorite ice cream, candies, an over-priced little blue teddy bear that's holding an 'It's A Boy!' card that Eddie plans to rip off, and a blank card with a painting of sunflowers on it that he plans to wax poetry about Steve inside.

The final part of his groveling is, of course, the flowers. It's the wrong season for sunflowers, so Eddie was going to settle for roses. It's just that these roses are all sad looking. They don't really scream 'I Love You More Than Anything Else In The World, Please Forgive Me For What I've Done' though.

Let it never be said that Eddie doesn't know how to beg forgiveness.

He ends up picking the least wilted looking bouquet, one with white and yellow flowers he can't name.

The cashier is an older lady who takes quick catalogue of his items and asks, "is it your anniversary, darling? Or, oh!" She picks up the blue bear and Eddie feels his ear heating with embarrassment as she coos, "are you expecting? How exciting!"

"Err, no, not, uh, no. It's just blue is hi-her favorite color, so I was planning to just cut off the little card," Eddie stutters out the lie. Blue isn't Steve's favorite color but Eddie's used to making up many little lies when talking to strangers. Being hate-crimed is not a passion of Eddie's. "I, uh, messed up. And I don't know what I did, but I'm going to make it right."

The lady smiles at him and gives him a firm nod as she scans the items. "Smart boy. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

Eddie gives her a smile he hopes isn't as tight-lipped as it feels on his face.

Back in the safety of his van, Eddie roots around until he finds a pen and gets to writing all the things he loves about Steve in the card and all the things he hopes they'll get to have in the future. Nothing they haven't spoken about before, but it still makes Eddie a little emotional writing it all down.

Once he's done writing, he pulls his pocket knife out and cuts off the 'It's A Boy' card from the bear, crumpling it up and tossing it in the back of the van to be forgotten. He shoves the sunflower card in it's place. His card is a bit wider than the previous one here so it stays in place, albeit precariously. He'll be careful handing it over to Steve.

He knows that Steve is at home already. Steve's always home first because he's off work at four compared to Eddie getting off work around five.

Well. Closer to five-thirty today with his stop at the grocery store. He really hopes that whatever has Steve mad at him isn't time related. Being late home without calling might earn him no favors if it's a time-based blunder.

Steve is in the kitchen, back to the door since he's facing the stove, as Eddie expected he might be. Which means that Eddie doesn't get to lay out all his Items of Forgiveness across the counter like he had hoped but that's okay. If the love of his life has chosen to forgive him, he knows Steve will be just as overjoyed to rifling through a bag of goodies as he would to pick them off the counter.

"Hi sweetheart," Eddie says, words oozing with adoration and sweetness.

"Hi baby," Steve's tone matches Eddie's, like an instinct to match Eddie's energy has written itself into Steve's DNA. And it might have. Eddie knows the reverse is true.

Steve turns from the stove, then, and his face lights up with delight and surprise. "What's all this?"

"Your favorite things, because I love you," Eddie says, raising his arms a bit. The grocery bag is looped over his wrist with flowers in one hand and the bear in the other.

Steve looks positively smitten.

Eddie is nailing this apology that isn't an apology. And let it be known; he cannot say he's sorry. It'll ruin everything. Because Steve, his wonderful, beautiful, kind and loving Stevie, will cock one perfect little caterpillar eyebrow and ask if Eddie knows what he's apologizing for, and Eddie will have to say he doesn't know and that isn't something he's willing to do. Especially not when it's looking like whatever Steve was mad about has completely slipped Steve's mind, too.

"I got your favorite ice cream, too, so we might want to get that into the freezer," Eddie says, passing the bear and card to Steve and shimmying around him to get to the freezer.

He lays the flowers on the counter and sets to emptying the bag. Ice cream in the freezer and goodies on the counter, while Steve reads the card silently behind him.

He knows he's successfully made up for whatever it was he had done, because Steve crowds him against the fridge shortly after setting the card down and turning the stove burner off, kissing him breathless.

Eddie even gets desert before dinner, with Steve all but dragging him to their bedroom.

-

The reddit post that inspired this -

[specialagentartemis]

Six Weeks on a Wild Planet

A wilderness survival game for any number of players

-----

Materials: Notecards, 2D6, counters

Your spaceship crashed on an uninhabited planet, and you are the survivors. The air is breathable, the plants edible, and rescue is coming—but you have to survive the weeks until they arrive.

Each player begins by describing their ROLE on the ship.  Each player writes down three items from your ship on notecards. The cards are shuffled, and two are handed to each player. These are your SUPPLIES.

One D6 represents a “weeks” countdown, starting at 6.

Each week, roll another D6 to see what danger you face:

Ooze destroys one of your SUPPLIES

Overnight freeze

Strange emanations from the rocks

Animal(???) attack

Storm

Food poisoning

Describe the danger.

Each player rolls a D6. If you roll equal to or lower than the danger number, take 1 damage, UNLESS you:

Explain how one of your SUPPLIES lets you prevent/mitigate the danger (and gets used up; discard it), or,

Explain how your ROLE gives you the skills to prevent/mitigate the danger.

Players who reach 2 damage die.  It’s a harsh world out there.

After the D6 countdown finishes week 1, rescue arrives. What do they find?

-----

200 words exactly, not counting title and subtitle.

Okay to archive off-site! If anyone plays this, I would love to know how it goes.

Wrote this yesterday instead of doing my dissertation work.  I ended up with big ideas spiralling way past 200 words so it was fun to get the core idea down. If I build this out, I would definitely have a simultaneous feature where you are building the distress call beacon, and you win the game if you finish the beacon before you all die; you get bonuses for using a SUPPLIES or explaining how your ROLE gives you Building A Distress Beacon Skills, and penalties each round for anyone who has taken damage or had to mitigate damage.  Didn’t make it into the 200 word version though. I playtested it a little on my own and I'm still not fully satisfied with the balance, but it's got the bones of something I'd love to keep poking at.

This also lends itself well to reskinning for, like, historical 19th century whalers being shipwrecked, or contemporary plane crash in the Canadian wilderness, or something.  I just like sci-fi.

This was fun! I’ve never written a TTRPG before, but I’ve been so inspired by seeing everybody’s 200 word projects. (I'm sure I'm not the first person to do a wilderness survival game like this, but it was fun to come up with!)

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Confession

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warning: nothing much just kissing

A/N: I'm going to start writing and post regularly again.

Masterlist

○●○●○●○

"I love you."

The words leave my mouth before I realise it. I can see him get tense, pausing his writing. Tears well up in my eye as the realisation slowly sinks in of what I've done. I've let out my deepest secret, the one I've kept for so long, not telling anyone else, knowing that nothing good can come out of it. I focus on the wall behind him, trying not to break down right here.

Come on, telling him I love him and then crying to him bout how he doesn't feel the same. That's just embarrassing.

I feel him stare at me as Azriel slowing gets up from his chair and walks up to me. Still not ready to face him, my eyes fall shut as he stands in front of me.

I want to say something! Say sorry or that it was just a prank but my mouth doesn't open and my fingers curl not a fist in anger at myself. He let's out a sigh and I brace myself for the rejection that's surely to come. The sofa dips a little as he sits in front of me.

Gentle finger tips graze my cheek and I gasp in surprise. "Open your eyes." The request clear in his deep voice. I carefully do, and then my eyes widen in surprise.

His face is so close to me.

Our noses almost touching. Our lips mere inches apart. The color of his irises is so radiant, with the sunlight hitting the waves in them so perfectly. A deep blush spreads across my face as my skin heats up. He too can surely feel it with his hand cupping cheek like so.

"Say it again."

"What?" I say, baffled.

"Say that you love me, again." There a flash of desperation in his eyes and it leaves my mind in a scramble. His eyes look at me, silently begging, and there nothing I wouldn't do in this world for him. No matter how much it hurts me, I would do whatever he told me to in a heart beat.

"I love you."

And his lips are on mine.

Softly at first and I gasp at the seer need I feel from him. He moves his mouth to mine with pure wildness, as if he's been wanting this for a long time. Our noses touch and he angles my head to kiss me deeper. My eyes fall shut and a tear runs down my cheek. I'm not sad, I'm surprised and happy and scared and god knows what else.

His tongue moves in my mouth and a low moan escapes my throat. I feel his lips curl up into a smirk and he pulls back a little. I whimper at the loss of him and chase after his lips to pull him into another, wilder kiss.

Our lips move in a rhythm, both of us desperately feel every part of each other's mouth. We kiss as if we were lost in a desert without any means of survival, and have finally found water. We kiss as if the world is going to end and there will be no tomorrow. We kiss as if this will be the last time we do so.

I don't know how long it has been when we finally pull back. Bruised lips and desire clear as a day in our eyes. We are still so close, I could easily kiss him again if I wasn't breathing so hard.

His kiss emptied me of my thoughts and air.

His eyes scan my face once more, red lips streching into a grin. He watches me for a second longer and then leans forward to gently kiss my cheek and pulls back.

"If it wasn't obvious, I love you too."

And I smile too, genuinely feeling the happiest I've ever felt.

[sillysiluriforme]

Hey! I'm a huge fan of your le terror au (forgive me if I misspelled it) but I feel like I'm missing context clues? This could be just me but it says the au is Adrigamette, yet it seems more Marigami? And while everyone is having unspeakable horrors happen to them, it kinda seems like Adrien is the only one who isn't going to have a happy ending? If he's in a poly relationship, it seems like Kagami and Marinette are more in love with eachother and don't care about Adrien, and people seem to hate him even while getting to know he's a good person (I assume from your au he's a good person?) Again, I could be missing context clues as not all the comics have uploaded where I am so I'm grasping at straws here, and you don't have to explain, but is there like a link explaining the character dynamics a bit? Sorry to bother you!

1. Kagami’s the center of the throuple for most of the story. Adrinette takes a LOT of build up to happen.

2. This is a horror thriller comic how happy do you think everyone will be when the story ends ?

3. Adrien has a shit reputation in his class because he’s a billionaire model who’s friends with and keeps defending a bully to her victim’s faces. Like sure he has his reasons but that’s never gonna look good from an outside perspective. It’s part of his character arc it’s fine.

It’s 2002, they’re in high school, they’re French, they’re either obscenely rich or exceptionally talented at something and they’re basically stuck in the Chernobyl exclusion zone obviously they’re all going to be a little mean sometimes.

I like Adrien as much as anyone else but fan media is allowed to not be about him for 5 seconds. He has flaws and I won’t coddle him. When he fucks up in the story it’s his fault even he goes boo boo baby more about it. I won’t stand for your white woman tears Barbie boy.

[poguehearted77]

Between The Lines

Summary-> It's the little things that go on behind the scenes between you and Drew that makes your chemistry electric.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

"Park place." Maddison narrates where Drew lands his dog piece across the monopoly board. "I'll buy it." He says but your hand is in his face, "Not so fast. I'm sure you would love to buy it if I didn't already have a hotel on it. You owe me $1500. Pay up." You show him your open palm, ready for lots and lots of cash.

"He's so cooked. Look at that pathetic stack of cash Drew has. I've got piggy banks with more than that." Jonathan's comments send the four of you erupting into a fit of laughter which eventually dies down to a patient silence. "Sometime today would be great." Madison clears her throat.

"Josh is coming!" Drew points, appealing to our gullibility and youall fell for it. By the time you realized he was bluffing, the board was tossed and the pieces were all out of place. He gets up and runs off as if he already knew you'd be hot on his heels.

Your outburts left JD and Madison alone to pick up the pieces, but not without an interesting conversation. "50 bucks they're together by the time we finish the season." Madison says it so casually as she reaches underneath the couch for the pieces.

"So I'm not crazy? You see it too?" He looks almost relieved. "Trust me, I've got a knack for these things." JD seems skeptical about the timeline of the bet. "I dunno, we finish filming in four months. That might be too soon, I say by the premiere."

The both of them look up so Carlacia who seemed to have been streaming live on her istagram. She enters the room mumbling something about getting winded by you and Drew sprinting past her.

Madison scoffs, "That's like nine months from now. They could get together and break up by then, but you know what-- If that's what you wanna bet, then be my guest." She holds out her hand and JD shakes on it. "You're on."

"We're ready for you guys." One of the assistants notifys them that it was time to head to the screening room where the weekly table reads were held.

Today would be your first look at the script for the second episode, and to say you were shocked was an understatement.

Script Summary:

Eventually the pogues put their trust in Piper and she gives them a fair exchange of some arms that they can handle, while she opts for her weapon of choice, a steel pipe.

"How do you think I got the name and the scar?" She says and it puts an odd sense of comfort among the group, minus a skeptical Rafe, to know you were confident enough in your skills that you didn't need a gun.

They beleived they were in good hands, until they realized they weren't. There was movement coming from the bushes and it made the pogues stand on guard, beckoning them to come out. Soon, the figures finally revealed themsleves. More mercenaries.

"Nicely, done Piper. It seems you can still make yourself useful after all." The red-headed woman speaks up, tossing you a pouch of money that you caught with one hand effortlessly.

"Never doubt my capabilities, it's insulting." You warn, tucking the pouch into the bag strapped across your back. The british woman continues, "Y'know, Mr. Finch could use your talents again. Once we're done tying up loose ends, we're headed back to home base in Lisbon."

Rafe is livid. He knew he couldn't trust you. It couldn't be by pure coincidence that the mercenaries popped up in the middle of this oasis when you were leading. "Lisbon? You told us Finch was here-" Kiara exclaims and Rafe interrupts.

"It was all a lie, from the very beginning. Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta, he was working with you, wasn't he? You knew he'd send us to you, and now you got your sad little payout from these dipshits for bringing us to them." Rafe seethes.

"I'll neither confirm nor deny that claim, love the enthusiasm though." Your attitude remains unbothered throughout the ordeal until Pope demands, "What do you want from us? We don't have the crown! Groff took it." The red head shrugs casually, sharpening her blades as she approaches the group.

"Don't you worry, Groff will get what's coming to him. For now, it's time to repay the debt that is owed. You get blood on your hands, I get blood on mine." Your eyes bulge, "Hang on, you never said you wanted to kill them." You step in and the woman pays you no mind.

"Perhaps because It's none of your concern. You've got your cut, now's a good time as ever to leave. It's about to get messy." She retracts her hand, about to plunge the blade into Pope when she's knocked out cold by a flying piece of steel.

The group looks over to you in shock, fear, and a hint of gratitude, but there's no time to gush about it when there's suddenly a brawl that breaks out between the mercenaries and the pogues.

You all hardly take them out before escaping.

"Piper, what the hell?!" John B yells and his anger is heavily agreed on in the group, you take it on the chin before offering the most sincere apology you could come up with. They're unconvinced. "I deserve that. Everything you heard back there is true. Finch's Fortress is in Lisbon. If you find him, you'll find Groff," You trail off, reaching into your bag, handing Cleo the pouch of money you'd just gotten.

"Take this. It's more than enough to get you a boat big enough to get across the atlantic and even have some leftover for food for a few days. When you arrive on the coast of Cascais, you'll need to head north in-land."

There's silence.

A long silence, nervous glances between the pogues and Rafe's eyes roll. "You guys cannot seriously be considering trusting her. She almost had us killed! Am I the only one who cares about making it back home?"

"Just shut up, Rafe!" John B silences him, and Pope speaks up. "Listen, I don't know about you guys but Piper just saved my life when she didn't have to. We've already lost someone. Going after Groff could be a suicide missison for all we know. But we all know this isn't about our safety, it's about revenge. For JJ." His speech is moving, the expressions agree.

"For JJ." They all agree.

"To Lisbon we go." Cleo chimes, and the group moves on.

End of Script*

You had just finished reading the script and you were blown away. The cast never knows what to expect whenevfer a new script is dropped in front of them.

"Wait a minute... If the pogues are going to Lisbon in the next episode then," Madison trails off and the director ties in, "So are we. Pack your bags, flights are booked for Saturday morning at 5am, please do not miss these flights, we're not opposed to writing you out!" Josh jokes and there's excited and shock all around the table.

You knew that the last season of the show had implied that the pogues would be on their way to Lisbon but it never dawned on you that it would be so soon, even though it made sense.

"You ever been to Portugal?" Drew leans in, a soft whisper in your ear tickled your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck at attention. "Never, have you?" He thinks about it, "If a layover counts then yes, yes I have." You're not sure if the joke was funny or if it just left the mouth of an incredibly attractive man, nonetheless, it made you giggle.

Madison kicks JD from under the table, jutting her chin towards the two of you giggling in secret and he rolls his eyes. "Patience." He says it calmly, but Madison is impatient, she knows she'll reign triumphant by the end of it all.

-

It’s a Friday night—or, more accurately, the early hours of Saturday morning. The world outside your accommodations complex is still cloaked in sleep, and you should be too. But no. The responsibility of making your flight in two hours has ripped you from the warmth of your bed. Groggy but determined, you scrambled to gather your belongings, knowing you wouldn’t be back.

After a last sweep of the room, you opened the door with a flicker of confidence—only to jump at the sight of a six-foot-two figure standing in your doorway.

“Drew! Oh my god, you scared me.” Your hand flew to your chest in a theatrical gesture, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly. “Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were actually up. Everyone else already left. There’s one driver still waiting downstairs.” His voice was smooth, annoyingly easy to listen to this early in the morning. Too easy.

“You sound oddly refreshed for 3 a.m.,” you quipped, your own voice still husky from sleep as you grabbed your suitcase.

“That’s the beauty of insomnia.” He shrugged, gesturing to his temples with a finger like it was some kind of genius life hack. “You can’t wake up tired if you never really sleep.”

The elevator dinged open, and the two of you stepped inside. The silence that settled was heavy, charged with something you couldn’t quite define. It hung there until you both spoke at once:

“So where are you—” “How did you—”

You broke into quiet laughter, and Drew’s mouth twitched with amusement. “You first,” he said, giving you a slight nod.

“How did you know I hadn’t already left with the others?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. For a moment, something flickered across his face—an emotion too quick to name—before a light blush dusted his cheeks. He masked it with an easy tone.

“I did some askin' around,” he replied, the answer short and almost vague. It was just enough to spark your teasing instincts.

“Ah,” you said with a smirk, “so you missed me?”

Instant regret settled within you. The elevator seemed too small, too still as Drew turned to look at you, his gaze steady and disarming. For a heartbeat, he didn’t respond, and your cheeks grew warm under his stare.

“You could say that,” he finally said, the ghost of a smirk curling the corner of his lips. His attention shifted to the elevator doors as they slid open, leaving you to wonder if you’d imagined the whole thing.

The ride to the airport was longer than expected thanks to roadwork that forced a detour. You should've been annoyed, but at some point, your head found its way to Drew’s shoulder, and your eyes fluttered shut. The fabric of his hoodie was soft against your temple, and his warmth lulled you into a half-dream state.

Drew didn’t dare move. The weight of your head against him was almost too perfect, and he fought the sudden urge to reach for your hand resting on your lap. Instead, he focused on the ticking clock in the back of his mind and the quiet hum of the car.

When you arrived, he sprang into action. “C’mon, we don’t have time to waste,” he murmured, grabbing your suitcase and his carry-on in one hand while ushering you toward the terminal with the other.

You barely had to lift a finger. Drew handled everything—tickets, baggage check, even navigating customs—with practiced efficiency, his jaw set and his movements quick. He wasn’t just organized; he was determined.

“Do you always walk as fast as a drill sergeant?” you teased as you reached the gate, breathing a little easier now.

He shot you a look, his lips twitching. “I'm not a huge fan of being late,” was all he said. But the way his eyes lingered on yours for half a second longer than necessary told you there was more to it than that.

Finally, you made it to your seats in first class. You settled across the aisle from Madelyn, who flashed you a bright smile.

“I was starting to think you two wouldn’t make it,” she teased, leaning toward you with a glint in her eye. There was an underlying subtext to her words but you were too tired to decipher it.

“Drew made sure that didn’t happen,” you replied with a soft laugh. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth you couldn’t quite suppress.

From behind your seat, Drew caught the sound of his name on your lips--and god did he love the way it sounds. He didn’t know what you’d said, but it didn’t matter. The fact that you were talking about him stirred something in his chest.

As the flight began, you glanced back once, meeting his gaze. He held it for a fraction of a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.

And yet, for the rest of the flight, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t stop replaying the memory of the weight of your head on his shoulder—or wondering what it might feel like to hold your hand in his.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,

[elfieafterdark]

I have a little teeny tiny cheeky theory about this moment. So if you'll indulge me, I shall share it.

I think John Gaius, in this moment, is lying to Harrow.

Let's think about this from a factual standpoint. John is the most powerful necromancer in the entire fucking universe, by a country damn mile.

He is powered by at least 5 billion souls.

You can blow him up into a fine mist and he will reassemble.

He fears not death nor Resurrection Beast. He remotely killed everyone, and resurrected everything and everyone afterward.

And far more compelling than any one thing I could tell you about John, is the fact that despite him saying this at the end of GTN, by the end of HTN, Harrow has proven him wrong.

He tells her it's impossible to remove Gideon. It is not. It is categorically, empirically not. Because they are separated. Gideon is in one body and Harrow is in another. You could argue semantics over how much of those souls are the originals and whether anyone has lost a piece of themselves sure.

Simple fact remains, Gideon and Harrow are separated. He lied to Harrow here. And that's not even the most interesting or sinister part of this interaction I think.

I think it's far more horrifying to examine why John Gaius lied to this heartbroken 17-year-old girl who was begging him, the man she views as God, to bring back the one good thing in her life.

The entire point of the Canaan House Incident was to create new lyctors. Because John's been losing them at an alarming rate. For being nearly invincible super powerful, infinitely energetic necromancers, the lyctors sure have a habit of dying a lot.

He needs new ones. I'm sure he was hoping to get eight new ones in the best circumstance. Instead he finds that he is down one, and only two of the adepts managed to succeed.

The rest of the house nobility were murdered by his own.

Ladies and gentlemen, he lied to Harrow because he needed Harrow. He could very well have separated Gideon, of that I have no doubt. I doubt many things about John Gaius, but I do not doubt his ability to separate souls. Maybe he's telling the truth? I don't think so.

He's lying to manipulate her. To fit his selfish ends, cuz I don't think anyone will deny that John Gaius is extremely selfish.

We know he lied to all of his bestest resurrected friends, solely because he didn't want them being like him? It's actually not clear why. But if he was willing to lie to his friends, then why not some random scrawny girl he's never seen before?

Just some random ramblings.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Dorian, under a cut for length:

"Now this is a fun one. It's no big secret I have a lot of feelings about Dorian, not least of which because he was my first (and only) gay male companion. There's a lot more to him than that, of course (as there should be), and it was quite a trip. So let's go! Now, DAI is a story all its own, but I'm sticking to the characters. In this case, back at the beginning, the writers were going to try something new: we were going to let the artists take a more active role in the companion creation process. Why? Because not doing so had caused a lot of problems. See, here's the thing: writers and artists speak two different languages. When talking about characters, we talk about their story. Who they are. What they want. We'd write up these briefs, huge and full of information... but it was never the information the artists needed. They wanted visual cues. I don't mean describing their appearance. Sure, we'd usually provide that, especially if there was a story case to be made, but often the artists vetoed us on appearance stuff anyhow so meh. No, I mean they looked for visual language while we tended to only talk about who the characters *were*. What would happen is they'd hone in on something visual in our write-up not intended to be a focus. The first write-up for Anders in DA2, for instance, mentioned he was "haggard" after his journey... and the first concept we got was this pale, shriveled man. "What... is this?" "YOU SAID HAGGARD!" 😅"

"That was the other trick: sometimes when we DID try to be more descriptive, we had to be extra cautious because the words could be interpreted very differently. You encounter this recording VO, too. A VO note says "hysterical" and you *meant* "really upset" but the actor read "scream like a banshee" Thus this caused problems, like I said. The artists would struggle, sometimes conjuring details just to give the character *something* but which would change the character... and, to us, the character was created. Done. We were already invested, probably already writing them. Something had to give. So this time we wrote a bunch of character briefs - but short. One paragraph. We stuck to vibes and the *emotions* we wanted the concepts to evoke. And we didn't name them. They got titles like "Slick Con Man" or "Ice Queen", so we wouldn't get too attached. Then we handed these off to the artists. And it worked nicely. The ones that just weren't inspiring we'd discard, no problem. The others had juice... and the artists felt free to play and offer lots of variations because we weren't set on anything yet. A lot of times, what they produced ended up inspiring US. It was a neat back-and-forth."

"This is what led to Dorian, in fact. He came from a short write-up entitled "Rock Star Mage" and it really boiled down to "I'm cool and I know I'm cool, so take that you cretins". And just like that, the first sketches (by Casper Konefal, I think? I bet I'm wrong) were all amazing. Instant fire. Me: "He looks kind of like... Freddie Mercury?" Him: "Is that bad?" Me: "NO ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS AMAZING" Plus there was a monkey. Sadly, we had to lose the monkey. There were iterations to come, but this was really where Dorian was born: Tevinter mage, noble, savant, and too cool for school."

"When did he become gay? Not right away. Like I said elsewhere, we didn't talk romance and sexuality until after the concepts were more in place. But as we were brainstorming about why this hot shot mage left Tevinter, the idea DID come up that maybe it was because he was gay. Not directly, however. Homophobia isn't really a thing in Thedas, after all, so at first blush I didn't think that could work. "Rich kid gets kicked out of the house for being gay" wasn't a trope I wanted to explore. But, then again, magister families in Tevinter are *obsessed* with the appearance of perfection, so...? Any deviation from the "norm" is considered scandal-worthy. It said weakness. It said you couldn't control your house. Now... THAT had real promise. The writing pit discussed it a lot. So I think it's fair to say that the gay fairy was already circling Dorian even before we got to the romance talk. I think it's also fair to say that the rest of the team realized I low-key wanted to write him, because when everyone started calling dibs, who was left standing for me? (I pick last, remember.) I gleefully snatched him up and got to work... ...about six months later. I was very busy at the time. 😅 That late start meant I had to design and write VERY quickly. And I did. Somehow, though, this one... it came easily. "Catty gay man" isn't digging very deep, no surprise to anyone who knows me, and it had an extra layer of being so fun because Dorian was confident. He sparred verbally. I loved it."

"There was more to it, however. The conflict between Dorian and his father... ugh, how do I say this? Let's be clear: Dorian's story is not MY story, but it's also not far off. I wrote the entire confrontation scene in one go. After I was done, I probably cried harder than I ever have in my life. 🫠 I was unsure whether it was any good, however. I just didn't feel objective. I passed it over to Cori May - my friend but also Dorian's editor - and asked her to please tell me and be honest. She read it. She walked into my office after, tears streaming down her face, and just nodded. "It's good." Here's the thing. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but: I don't think a writer NEEDS to be a minority in order to write a minority. Sometimes those characters should simply exist, and we want them to. But if that character's story is ABOUT their experience as a minority? That's different. Dorian's story didn't need to revolve around his sexuality - and, honestly, it only did so as a tangent to his family issue, but they're so bound together it's probably irrelevant to split them - but my writing him meant it could be. It allowed me to SAY something. That felt good. It felt right. Ramon Tikaram came on board after a lengthy casting process (so many British Indian accents, oh god). I sat in on a few recording sessions... the confrontation scene, though? Ramon: *says line* Me: (curled up on a nearby sofa in fetal position) *shaky thumbs up* Caroline: "Yep. Great work, Ramon!""

"Dorian's sexuality isn't all he's about, but that's certainly how some viewed it. When the character was announced in 2014, his being gay was mentioned as the last of a number of points, and the instant response from some gamers was to act as if we'd called a press conference just to say THAT. 🙄 It was annoying. Still is. Overall, however, the reaction to Dorian was very positive. The number of straight men who said they romanced him still pleases me. The number of fans who privately contacted me who'd been through conversion therapy, some who said Dorian helped them survive? Well. Gosh. 😭 I did write him for Trespasser - though I hear that a late scope cut meant every conversation had been chopped by 1/3rd or more, and that meant a lot of nuance lost. Which is sad, if true, because it sounds like the result of that left some Dorian romancers a bit cold. Such is how game dev rolls. 😔 If you need more proof of how it was hard for me to let go of him, a short story I wrote after Trespasser came out where Dorian has a bit of closure with his dead father: medium.com/@davidgaider... So yeah. He'll always be my boi. And I'll always be thankful Bio gave me this opportunity. ❤️"

[source thread]

User: "I'm not going to lie, it's hard to take my mind off Dorian almost having a monkey." David Gaider: "If by “almost” you mean there was a picture of a monkey that the concept artist put there as a whim, and which would almost certainly have taken more cinematics and modeling time to put in than we could ever afford… then yes. 😉" [source]

[magics-neptunes-things]

Love Me Harder

Hi guys :)

Still working on my WIP! This is a request I got here, so I hope the person asking for it will be happy with what I wrote :)

I'm sorry for the delay by the way.

But please enjoy ♥

TW : Head injury, concussion, jealousy, angst with happy ending.

Leah and you have been a couple for almost two years now, even if you managed to get it hidden for now. You always had something for the girl to be honest, but when you met Leah, she was already with Jordan and you weren’t really a couple breaker. Sure, it hurts sometimes to see her happy with someone else, but at least she was happy and that’s all that matters for you.

You tried to forget her by sleeping around or having a girlfriend yourself, but nothing really worked. You usually dated people away from the football world, not wanting to mix your professional life with your private life. It happened that you slept with other players though, but never in your team or with them being friends with one of your friends.

With that state of mind, it was hard to find someone to sleep with, but at least you were out of trouble.

Well, that’s what you thought until today.

Leah and you aren’t playing for the same team, she was born at Arsenal while you travel a lot during your career. You started in Manchester City, then you went to Lyon, then to Bayern and since last season you have been back in Manchester City. You like it here and it was easier to live your relationship with Leah that way.

You are together when you are playing for your national team though, you have been the number one goalkeeper of the team for years now. Leah is back from her injury and is now back in national camp too.

Sarina knows that you are together, like all your teammates. The only people who don’t know are the public. You are friends with a lot of Lionesses, so when you are spotted with Leah and some of your friends, no one really puts two and two together. Meado tease you a lot about it, but in reality, you aren’t fan of PDA anyway and so is Leah. Maybe not like you are with your friends, but it’s another discussion.

Back to today, you are playing against Italy for the qualification of the next international championship. After your World Cup and the fact that you weren’t qualified for the Olympics Games, all your team wants to show that you are still here and deserve to win the Euro back in 2022.

You were doing the pitch inspection, casually talking with Lucy and LJ when you heard someone calling your name. Leah, as always, wasn’t far away from you with Keira and Georgia.

“Y/N?”

You turn without really thinking in the direction of the voice, just to be faced with a girl that you actually slept with several months ago. To be honest, it was just before you got in a relationship with Leah. You hate to admit it, but you kind of ghost that poor girl after that, way too happy to finally be with the girl you were in love with.

“Oh, hi Milena” you say nervously.

You even have forgotten that she’s in fact from Italy and you will be facing her today. You can see Lucy exchanging an intrigued look with LJ next to you while the girl keeps walking in your direction.

“I’m happy to see you” she says when she’s in front of you.

You don’t have time to answer before she hugs you and your arms automatically surround her waist to give her back her embrace. If your arms very quickly drop from her body, one of her hands stays in your arm.

You probably never have been so uncomfortable during the rest of your life. You can feel Leah burning gaze on your back.

“How are you? I think we haven't talked for like two years” she laughs.

“Oh, uh. I’m good thanks” you mumble.

“You look good indeed” she smirks.

You deal very badly with cringe, to be honest. So, you are particularly relieved when Lucy passes her arm around your shoulders before talking.

“We have to go back inside” Lucy says, nodding towards the locker room.

In fact, when you look around, you realise that almost all your teammates are already inside. That excuse is perfect after all. You mumble a “See you later” before letting Lucy take you out of the pitch.

Lucy and LJ manage to wait to be out of your ex’s ear before bursting into laughter. You suppose you must be grateful to them for that.

“What was that?” Lauren asks while Lucy is still laughing like crazy.

“Nothing” you roll your eyes.

“She doesn’t look like nothing” Lucy smirks when she can breathe again.

“Be careful with what you say, or Ona will receive a strange text from me, explaining how you find other girls not nothing” you frown.

She suddenly shuts up, her face becoming way more serious. It makes you smile. You never saw Lucy so whipped for a girl before. But you know that your friends deserve an explanation. You sigh softly before starting your explanation.

“It’s a girl I slept with before Leah kissed me at that party, and we got together. I was still in the process of forgetting her. I met that girl before the Euro and well… You know” you shrug. “But then after the semi-finales we got together with Leah, after that she hurt her ACL and I kind of totally forgot that girl.”

LJ hums after your explanation, nodding softly. You can see that your explanation makes sense for both of them which is great because it’s nothing but the truth.

“Leah was boiling” Lucy informs you.

You grimace at this. You were pretty sure that she would react that way. You never realise how Leah can be jealous before being with her. You like it actually, fond of the way she wants to be sure that you are hers and no one can take you away from her.

But here and now aren’t exactly the right place to show her that she is your only one.

You are nervous when you enter the changing room, looking for your girlfriend. You finally see her sitting in Georgia’s cubby. Her eyes are burning when she crosses your gaze after you enter the locker room.

Lucy goes sit on her cubby, just next to yours, while LJ goes on hers too. You want to talk to Leah, but Georgia’s non-verbal language makes you think that you better not approach Leah for now.

That girl is really scary when she wants to.

Keira’s gaze is softer and it’s what makes you walk in their direction. Lucy was right, Leah seems furious.

“Can we talk?” you ask softly when you reach them.

“No” Georgia answers harshly.

“Georgia” Keira sighs.

“Leah?” you try again, trying to cross your girlfriend’s gaze. “Please?”

She sighs and throws the towel she was holding in the cubby while standing up. She doesn’t answer really, but you follow her anyway when she walks to leave the room. You don’t really know where you are going at first, until she turns to enter in a closet.

“What do you want to talk about?” Leah asks harshly just after you close the door.

You are a little bit taken aback. You know what you want to talk about of course, but you don’t know how to start. You are sure that if you say that you know she’s jealous, she will deny it and that it will be the end of the conversation. This is not what you want.

“I just wanted to know if you are okay” you tentatively say.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She has now her arms crossed and her famous frown on her face. You know how hard it would be to have something from this conversation.

“Because you seem angry”

Leah snorts and looks at the handle of the door. She putted her hands on her hips now and is shaking her head.

“Am I supposed to be happy when my girlfriend is getting flirted with by someone else?”

“No, that is why I wanted to talk to you too. I just…”

“Do you know her?” Leah cuts you.

This time her eyes are deep inside yours and you know that you can’t lie to her. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anyway, but with her eyes scanning your soul, it would have been impossible.

“I… We slept together some time ago” you finally sigh.

“When?”

“Just before the Euros”

You know that Leah knows perfectly that your first kiss happened after the semi-finals against Sweden and the happiness of the victory. You were the first shocked when she kissed you after some naughty dancing, but you kissed her back and the rest of the night probably made her understand very much how much you were fancying her already.

It’s even stronger now, of course.

But Leah is looking at you like she’s going to kill you.

“Don’t look at me like that, Le. I didn't know that several weeks later you would kiss me. I didn’t know you were interested in me at this point.”

You try to take her hand with yours, but she takes it away from you, before opening the door again.

“Well you can go back fucking her in that case”

“Leah!”

She slams the door, almost pinning your fingers inside. When you manage to get outside too, Leah isn’t here anymore. You decide to go back to the training room and try to talk to her again, but when you arrive, Sarina is right behind you, asking you to go training.

You aren’t really concentrating during the training to be honest; you keep looking at Leah, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even share a look with you when you are right behind her at the beginning of the game.

You really hope that a win will ease her mood and help you to reconcile with Leah. You turn when you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning your bigger frame towards Keira. She just smiles at you, and you nod only. You are too nervous to smile, but you are glad to know that you have at least one of Leah’s friends on your side. You are sure that Leah explained everything to them.

You take a deep breath when it’s time to go on the pitch, trying to focus on the game. The national anthems help you and you keep a straight face when you check all the Italian players, even Milena.

You do your usual check with Lucy too, looking for good luck before starting the game. England is supposed to be the favourites, but Italy is fighting with all their strength. Your forwards manage to have good opportunities, but without being able to score for now.

After the first half, no one scored, and you had to use some of your best moves to avoid taking a goal or two.

You just nod when Sarina congratulates you in the locker room. Leah is still not looking at you, as if you weren’t even here. It creates a strange feeling in your throat. You are happy that Lucy is just next to you, even if she’s not talking, your friend’s presence is good for you.

When the game starts again, you realise with anxiety that Milena and her other teammates change their side, meaning that Leah is the one marking Milena from now.

But Leah manages to take the upper hand on Milena every single time, using with ability her slide tackles. You are happy when Alessia finally manages to score around the seventy minutes.

Five minutes later, Sarina made all the different changes she was planning to, leaving Lucy and Leah in the defence but changing Millie and Maya in the same move. You don’t have a lot of time to get used to that though, because soon Italy won a corner, and you have to focus again on the game.

You can’t really explain what happened. Your eyes were on the ball when the Italian player shot it in the middle of the surface. But the knock you received on your head suddenly makes everything dizzy and you fall on the ground without really realising it.

There is a wheezing and everything else sounds like you were underwater. You feel hands on you, someone slapping your cheek, two fingers looking for your pulse in your neck.

You don’t know if it’s because it’s Leah or if it’s because she’s screaming right above your head, but you hear her distinctly shout

“Don’t fucking touch her! Let her breathe!”

And the panic in her voice finally makes you open your eyes. It’s the same feeling when you are sleepy, and Leah wakes you after you fall asleep in front of a movie to go to bed. Your eyes are heavy, the light is too bright too. You wince and close your eyes almost as soon as you open them, pressing your hand on your head.

“Y/N? Hey Baby, can you hear me?”

Leah’s voice is softer than you ever heard it, and you groan for only an answer. Your head is pounding.

“Can you roll on your back?”

You recognize the voice of one of the people from the medical team. You groan once more and roll on the ground, lying now on your back. You warily open your eyes, thankful that someone is hiding the lights of the pitch with their frame. You frown softly when you realise that it’s Milena

“I’m sorry Y/N, I wasn’t looking where I was going and…”

“It’s okay” Leah cuts her harshly. “She needs to get looked at; can you leave?”

You perfectly see the staff member smile at each other before turning their attention to you again.

They ask you several questions, make you sit, look at their fingers and look at a light too. It’s not an enjoyable experience to be honest, it hurts, and you have trouble staying focused.

“I think it’s a concussion” one of them finally says. “It would be better for you to get out of the pitch.”

“No” you frown. “Sarina made all the substitutions already. I can’t leave.”

“Of course you can” Leah interjects. “No one would blame you. It’s safer like th– “

“Leah. I’m playing.”

Her light blue eyes went right into your eyes. You don’t look away, Leah might be stubborn, but you are too when you really want something. And you want to play, you want to prove to her that she can count on you no matter what. You know you have hurt her and maybe bummed after your revelation earlier. You want to take amend of that.

When she opens her mouth to answer, you look at the medical staff.

“Am I allowed to play?”

They hesitate for several seconds, looking at you silently.

“If I let you play, you have to swear that if you don’t feel good, or dizzy, or tired, you will stop the game and get out of the pitch. Can we make this deal?”

You nod and he nods back, before helping you to get up. You take some water from the bottle he gave you, splashing some of it on your face too. You feel tired to be honest and the lights are killing you. But you are determined to end this game.

“Y/N.”

You turn in Leah’s direction and it’s easy to see the concern in her eyes. You smile softly at her while your teammates and the opposite team are coming back on the pitch.

“I’ll be fine, Leah”

She sighs and you feel her gaze on you when you go back to the goal. You don’t see her or hear her turning to the players around her, telling them not to let anyone come near your goal.

They manage to do it greatly to be honest, and you are glad for it. You have to make some intervention, like grabbing the ball in the air for example. Jumping was fine, but the shock when you fall on the ground is harsh.

When the whistle of the referee finally sounds, signalling the end of the game, you are more relieved than ever. Closing your eyes, you let your tired body sliding along one of the two posts on your goal.

“You’re alright mate?”

You don’t open your eyes but nod at Lucy’s question, feeling her hand on your shoulder without seeing it.

“Do you need help to get up?”

“Please” you mumble.

She makes you stand as easily as you were a 5-year-old child, making you smile softly. You thank Maya with gratefulness when she gives you your things waiting behind the goal and slowly make your way to the locker room.

You look around to see where Leah is, which isn’t missed by Beth who is walking on your other side.

“She’s answering some questions for the TV” the blonde informs you.

You groan and drink more water, still walking. Pretty slowly, you must admit. But you feel dizzy, and you sigh internally when you see Milena running in your direction.

“Hey” she says, with her Italian accent. “Look, I'm very sorry. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry” you answer with a soft smile. “I’ll need some rest tonight and maybe tomorrow, but other than that it’s okay.”

You watch her bite her lips, like if she’s thinking about something to say. And how to say it. You really hope that she won’t ask you out now, because you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

“Can I write to you tomorrow? To know how you are feeling. I really feel very guilty”

You were going to answer something, but you were interrupted by an arm sneaking around your waist and a body suddenly pressed against yours.

“She will post an update on her Instagram tomorrow. And don’t worry for her, she’s between great hands” Leah says, before looking at you. “Are you okay to leave, Babe?”

You repress a smile and take a small breath.

“Yeah, let’s go. See you”

You give a smile to Milena, who you feel sorry for. You know that she never meant to hurt you, but Leah seems to take her for the only responsible of the accident.

“You know that I wasn’t looking either?” you mumble to Leah.

“It doesn’t matter. Sarina told me we can leave now; the staff asked for a taxi so we don’t have to wait on anyone. Would you like to shower in your hotel room rather than here?”

“Sounds good” you mumble again.

In a record time, Leah manages to take all your things and put them in your two bags, change herself in a training suit and help you to do the same. You are starting to feel tired and dozens in the cab on Leah’s shoulder.

“Baby you have to wake up. I can’t carry you in your room” Leah whispers when you are in front of the hotel, gently kissing your temple.

Usually, you love the fact that you are higher than Leah. You love how she easily fits in your arms, how you can hold her and feel like you are protecting her from everything and everyone.

But right now, you really would love for her to be able to carry you.

She does a bit though, holding you firmly against her while you are going to the lift and then to your room. You let yourself fall on the bed when you arrive inside your room, letting Leah deal with your bags and everything else.

“Come on Baby, we have to wash the game out of you. Then you can go in bed until the staff members come again”

“I just want to sleep” you groan.

“I know. But you will feel better.”

You do feel better, Leah is right. She helps you to take your shower, affectionately dry you with a towel after, help you to put fresh pajamas on and then even brush your teeth and your hair.

She then takes a quick shower too and it’s with wet hair and in one of your t-shirts that she opens the door of your room for the staff. The t-shirt easily covers her smaller frame, the tissue going until her knees.

They make some more tests on you, asking several questions to Leah too. You have trouble staying focused, but only because you are very tired. You don’t hear them leaving, opening your eyes again when you feel the bed move when Leah crawls on it.

“Are you sure you’re not in pain?”

You hum, snuggling against her warm body. They gave you some morphine earlier anyway. Leah lets you do it and you sigh happily when she starts to stroke your neck with her fingers.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted because of your ex”

Leah’s whisper takes you by surprise. You probably almost never heard Leah saying that she was sorry for something so serious. Opening your eyes again, you search hers.

“I’m sorry for the way you learned it” you whisper back. “But it has nothing to do with you. It was before knowing you could be in any way interested in me. I was still in my “Forgetting Leah” era”

Leah chuckles and you smile hearing that sound. You close your eyes again, the tiredness being more and more hard to fight against.

“I’m glad you never managed to get over me” Leah says after some silence, playing with your hair.

“I will never be able to get over you”

You feel like your voice is low and your words aren’t very well articulated, but Leah seems to understand very easily what you are saying.

“I was hoping to” Leah mumbles too. “Now sleep, you little menace.”

You groan softly once again, making Leah smile. You happily let her kiss your face several times, finishing with your lips. You manage to whisper that you love her and it seems to you that Leah say it back, but you are not really sure. Because you are already asleep then.

[ddarker-dreams]

Can you spare us some Scara crumbs for this starving pigeons pls?🥺🥺🥺 I miss the way how you write that shortass gremlin so much (I miss my wife, tails... I miss my wife)

There comes a point where even you, one of the few species capable of withstanding long-term exposure to a certain Harbinger, find yourself exasperated. Beneath his apathetic façade lies a volatile ego, poised to misinterpret the most innocent acts as a knife through the heart. Scaramouche's treated you coldly since you both retired to your personal quarters. You'd like to claim ignorance, but you know better — know him better — which makes remedying the issue harder.

"You had a fun evening, I take it?"

His voice shoots across the room, releasing the taut string that's had you in the crosshair for hours.

"It was fine," you accentuate your indifference with a shrug. Then, a counterattack of your own: "Why?"

He puffs his cheek to the side, looking more like an indignant child than one of the most feared forces at the Fatui's disposal. "Oh, no reason. I just couldn't help but notice how eager you were to fawn over my co-worker."

And there it is, you think. Why did we have to run into Childe, of all people...?

"I was just being polite."

"'Polite?'" He repeats, barking out a hollow laugh. "That smile, those sweet expressions were polite? Are you sure you weren't auditioning to be a courtesan?"

You offer him your most unimpressed look. Scaramouche returns it tenfold, narrowing his eyes and closing the gap in distance between you. You take it as an opportunity to examine the finer details he works so diligently to hide. The trembling of his lower lip, curling of his fists, and the watery sheen coating his eyes.

Although he doesn't require oxygen, his chest heaves like he's been deprived of it.

Or something of equal significance.

"I can't stand it," he admits, raising a shaky hand to cup your face. "You— that... nauseating charm. You're bound to attract pests everywhere you go. I thought by now, it'd be clear that you're off limits, but..."

Electricity crackles in the air.

Then, he freezes when you lay your hand on his.

"No one's going to try anything," you reassure. You leave out the part that they might as well be bringing about the end of the world. "Let's just call it a night before we get more worked up, okay?"

His fingers twitch.

Eventually, he averts his gaze, a rosy blush dusting over his cheeks.

Scaramouche clears his throat, then grumbles, "... I'm not worked up."

Regardless of his complaints, he silently acquiesces to your wish, slinking his way over to your wardrobe to contemplate what he'll have you wear the following day.

[cheshirewrites]

"Darling," a voice calls from the door, "we have another one."

Dahlia sighs, and gets to her feet. The harvest had been going so well, too, she thinks to herself, sparing a glance towards the basket at her feet. The basket, as big as it is, is barely halfway full. The bottom is lined with freshly picked fruits and fragrant herbs, the usual kinds of things you would expect to find at a witch's residence.

She had been looking forward to working in her garden, and once she was done with that, checking on the magical creatures that tended to roam their woods.

Still, Dahlia knows what her lover is talking about, and that is far more important.

When she steps into the kitchen, Ari is leaning against the counter. There's flour on her cheeks and on her dress, and the smell of something baking in the oven, and Ari is engaged in a rapid fire conversation with a stranger.

And that, of course, is where the problems usually begin.

The stranger -- a teenager, because fate has always favored youth -- looks at Dahlia and grins. "'Ello, my good lord." Their grin turns playful. "Or should I say, my dark lord?"

"Neither," Dahlia says, as she makes herself comfortable next to Ari. "It's Dahlia, no formalities needed."

Their expression doesn't change. "Miss Dahlia, then."

Ari shifts closer, like she's going to tell a secret. "Do you have a name, little traveler? If you don't, I'm sure I can come up with something to call you."

"Fox," they say, and the name certainly fits, with their pointed features and scruffy, auburn hair. When they smile, it's all teeth. "My name is Fox."

"Well, little Fox," Dahlia says, taking a thorough look at them. Worn clothes, prominent ribs, a smile sharper than knives. "Cut to the chase. I doubt you sought out a dead hero and tyrant for fun."

Fox snarls, agitation clear in every inch of their body. "You are not the tyrant here," they say, angrily. "You aren't the one tearing apart the ground and poisoning the water. You aren't the reasons that thousands of people no longer have a roof over their head. You aren't the reason my Prince-"

They cut off abruptly, lanky body curling in on itself as a frown takes over their face. It reminds her of Ari, when she still kept her hair cropped short and always had countless daggers on her person. Back before she died, and was being run ragged for months on end.

"You work with the royal family, don't you, little Fox?" Dahlia says, not unkindly. "Many people in similar positions would call this treason."

The words have an undeniable effect, as Fox straightens to their full height. "I only work for the Prince," they say, "I'd happily watch the rest of them rot."

At her side, Ari smiles. "I'm glad that the youth haven't changed," she says, and her bright tone doesn't fit her next words. "Would you kill him if you had the chance?"

Dahlia gives Ari a knowing look.

Dahlia might be the former dark lord, or whatever it was they call her these days, but Ari is not without her moments. She had to learn how to fight somewhere, after all, and she has done a lot of things that aren't written in the history books.

She hides her amused smile behind her hand, and gives the two heroes a moment to themselves. It isn't hard to check on whatever is baking, after all, and Dahlia doesn't want to see her lover upset if something burns.

Besides, Dahlia thinks, Ari knows all too well the dangers of being associated with royals, and the price that comes with their status.

Of course, it doesn't really take that long to check the bread, and know that it still has plenty of time to go, but Dahlia gives them their privacy. She catches whispers, snippets of conversations, but doesn't pay them any mind.

Ari is more than capable of having this conversation on her own, and Dahlia will leave them be until Ari suggests otherwise.

It happens sooner than she expects. Her lover tape her shoulder, lightly at first, and then firmer, when Dahlia doesn't immediately respond. Dahlia just hums, gently closing the oven before she straightens, opting to lean against the counter again.

"Dahlia, my love," Ari begins, her expression somewhere between fond and pleading. "How do you feel about committing a little regicide? Might make for a lovely vacation, hm?"

Between the look in Ari's eyes, and the hope written all across Fox's face, there is very little doubt about what her answer will be. Between a former hero and dark lord, and their new little Fox, Dahlia is certain that the king won't survive another two weeks.

Dahlia smiles.

After all, things had just gotten a lot more interesting on this little farm of theirs.

The hero and the dark lord have both disappeared after their battle, making everyone think they both perished. In reality, they are living on a farm, living the life of their dreams.

[erinwantstowrite]

bear with me here because i'm gonna ramble about something i've been thinking about for a while... and i'm not complaining, i'm just noticing

sometimes i think we've leaned so far into the vigilante side of the batfam that we miss out on what really makes their characters: detective work. we need more mysteries in their lives that don't lead up to some big bad "we already know who's doing it" or an "end of the world" or "yet again: this fucking guy." we need more stuff where spy movie music plays in the background and dumb adventures that don't lead up to some huge grand event with a big name villain. the shock factor stops being shocking or interesting in any capacity if we're like "Gah! the Joker! ... Again!" or whatever

does that even make sense? like "yeah sure they're blowing up a building again and there's hostages. oh look they're gonna poison the water supply." these aren't bad and that's not what i'm getting at because obviously this is a classic for comics. you need to have characters/antagonists that show up more than once and who can make a story better by being in it. and i did say to bear with me- that's because im tired. so like i hope im getting this across the right way? it's just that sometimes i don't wanna see a huge explosion, i want these motherfuckers solving a regular murder or a disappearance or regular corruption in a local office without it being tied to a grand reveal like "actually this person knows you as a long lost relative" or "they were at that circus can you guess which night they went?" that kind of thing? if you get me? like... more of the small time stuff makes the big stuff important, it makes it stand out more. at some point, the format gets repetitive even if you're switching up the villains. you can make these situations/mysteries still fun to solve for the characters and fun to read for the audience if you do it right

the concept of a detective dressed as a bat and having a sidekick in traffic light colors is inherently goofy as hell??? but that is what is so charming about it??? i think we have lost the balance between them being silly while also being intelligent with important conversations that criticize the world as we see it and teach lessons and can go over dark topics. nowadays it's always end of the world problems or just straight up the most gruesome true crime you can think of?? or they can ONLY do the dark stuff and the criticism without offering a balance of the good in the world. or we keep coming back to the FUCKING JOKER-

like yes they are vigilantes and with that comes a different level of their work, but their brand should be a mix between a black and white detective film that can get very nitty gritty and a classic spy movie, that kind of thing. at the end of the day, it's what makes them so different from the superheroes. that's what appeals to me.

seeing them in the big superhero groups is fun, don't get me wrong. it's always funny to see them standing next to people who are so powerful they never really fit in with anyone but each other, who chose to step up and use their powers for good. the Bats' specialty is Gotham and yet here they are stopping a god or whatever. and they do stop the god or whatever, all the while being an important leader and strategist to their teammates. they're important to have in these cases. but if there's a world ending event every time i pick something up, it's not as fun

the fact that they are so very human and not fantastical is why i like reading them. it's what makes the joke of people, even Gotham citizens, theorizing about them being cryptids, funny. they're fucking weird but that's because they're detectives. people who love to solve mysteries usually have a fatal flaw of curiosity. they forget the bounds between social interactions sometimes because they're used to working through problems or being intertwined with partners that understand them. but they're very much human. so human that it hurts them in many ways. and idk i've just been thinking about it lately and idk what point i'm trying to get across actually

it's just that in my eyes that's how it really is for Batman- a black and white movie narrated by a very serious man who took up a job to help people, one that has a deeper commentary on the world and viewed outwardly as pessimistic but actually has a deep hope for his city and who tries to help even the people who have wronged others. He's a stationary man in the belief that him being a constant can serve to soothe others and help them move forward. He stays in the middle of the path so he can tell everyone what is up ahead. he blends into the Gotham rainy night to serve justice but in a way that saves both the victim and the perpetrator. (the way he tucks a Robin into his cape is the same he does for Gotham with his mere presence.) and his background is actually so important to his story and yet people still somehow gloss over the lesson from it? he lost his parents because of a man who was on the opposite end of the spectrum to where he was in life. and yet he chose to help the people like the man that killed his parents. he could have done anything else with his power and money, but he instead is choosing to bring as many people up with him as he can. He's Mr. Serious that no one else can get a read on. and yet he walks into a room and he's already piecing together your life and what you're going through because he thinks it matters. he comforts people who have lost something or someone or themselves. I picture Batman and I don't picture a man trying to save the world, I picture a detective walking around a crime scene and trying to save at least one person every time he puts on the cape. and he put on the cape and became a vigilante because then he could go out of the bounds of what laws have been set up- and specifically, Gotham has other people in power who are corrupt, keeping the system that way. that's why Batman being a billionare and throwing himself into helping people at the risk of his own life is so important. he knows that if you are alive, you have something or someone to lose, no matter who you are. the dude is a bleeding heart but he doesn't know how to express it, in fear that if he gets too close, if he moves down the path with them, he'll be lost again

and then he's met with someone who should be a complete opposite, but isn't at all, because they're two sides of the same coin. his partner in crime, his son, a boy that is nothing like the black and white world that he sees. and that's the point in his life where he first sees that potentially getting lost is worth the risk. Robin is color and passion that needs guidance to move forward, but can not do so unless the stationary man learns to move with him. the kid is loud and reckless and you'd think he's from a different genre from the detective but they aren't so different, really. not when you look close enough. Dick grew up moving from place to place and seeing the world, knowing so many different people from different cultures. He's been learning to fly and jump and embrace the free fall his entire life. He's clever and he's sharp, and he thrives in the action and adventure. it's that perspective that compliments the stationary man. one is steady and the other pushes. he's the same genre but a different generation. and Batman introducing him to the way of life he chose for himself was another way he could save someone. because let's be real for a second? Dick would have gone down a very dark path had he not had Bruce, who understood, who saw not just himself in the kid but also saw who the kid has been his entire life until now. he saw Dick's parents, he saw the family he had in the circus, he saw the joy he had in what his family was doing. he saw the grief and the fire and the color that Dick's world was made of. because to Bruce, it always matters. Dick had to come to terms with Bruce's perspective to help anyone who they come across, to always give more chances, and it kept Dick from losing his color

what gets me is that the man who lives in the black and white world can actually see many different shades of gray (because black and white always needs the medium), whereas the boy in a world of color and light can get so focused on the bright that he can become single minded. and yet the boy sees a world of color and delves deeper into the lives of the peolle they come across and can be much more open minded, and the man in the black and white world sometimes forgets the shades of grey are right there. they are just like each other. they can exist without the other, but do they want to? because the black and white can be built up into the colored image, like the inking and shadows drawn on a comic book page before the colors are added in. they meet in the middle to complete each other. Bruce has been passing the story over to the next generation for a long, long time, even before his story was complete. and just like with the first Robin, it was so for every Robin afterwards. they each color in the lines differently, but that's what makes Robin so special, so unique. they are an art style that branches into their own life, but can not forget where they started: tucked into Batman's cape and the inky black of his world

and so detective work really frames their hunanity to me. the mysteries they get their hands on, the glimpses into the lives of Gotham citizens that they swore to protect, it's fascinating. it's what makes their story stand out compared to the people who can lift trucks or cast spells or run around the world in seconds. so yeah ig that's what i'm trying to say? that i want to read more of that? in both canon and fanon. cause even the small time villains we see can be like. AWFUL people and it takes out the fun of their gimmicks. and if it were any other day this would be a more coherent post but alas, it is not any other day

[skzthelomlhehe]

Okie sooo I'm like in the middle of tests and work and the progress to my upcoming oneshots have been slow so I thought, "why not make some headcanons?" (Frankly cuz I'm fucking bored of studying and working all the damned time)

Okie so for these little imagines, I was thinking

How your boyfriend!skz would react to you waiting for them in a sexy lingerie after they had a long day at work! [Ot8] {Pt. 1: Hyung Line}

MDNI // includes smut (think y'all can know by the title itself lmao), I'm not exactly sure what warnings to include, just know it's smutty (I'm very sorry I'm highly sleep deprived and running on my 7th coffee today my brain cannot function) // established relationships

Bang Chan

Ok so like- I just KNOW the man wouldn't even notice. He'd walk in to your shared apartment (idfk), his head hanging with like heavy sighs and he wouldn't even notice what you were wearing when he walks in. I feel like it wouldn't be AFTER he had his shoes off and walking slow, tired steps towards you and then he looks up and drops his jaw like the bag he had in his hand. He'd prolly stutter sumn like, "Y-Y/N...? What are you...?" And not even have the means to say anything else. He would just be standing there worshipping you, basking in your beauty and walk up to you, wrapping his arms around your bare waist nice and gentle and place soft wet kisses everywhere, once again, worshipping you. Feel like even if he's tired, he would savour you in the gentlest way possible and if he had a really bad day, maybe even cry in your arms a little and vent during aftercare (cuz we all know what a damned softie he is and we love him for that)

Lee Know

For him, I'd say he would just walk in STOMPING cuz he's PISSED (possibly at himself cuz he thinks he doesn't work hard enough or at something or the other that disrupted his usual flow) and he'd just flop on the couch calling out to you probably to cuddle. Maybe even get things heated iykyk and in this case, he'd definitely do the latter. When you walk in wearing that sexy lingerie, his eyes would be wide fixated on you. And seeing him down on the couch in his usual manspread would just get you DRIPPIN'. He would probably scoff at the sight in front of him and flick his fingers motioning you to come and pat on his thighs to get you to sit down and like his little kitten you are, you would obey without a word. He'd probably run his hands all through your body, placing wet kisses, maybe even leaving marks. I'd imagine him saying something like, "what a good kitty. How'd you know I would need just this, hm?" In this husky seductive tone (once again iykyk) and despite how tired he is, I'd think he would take his time eating you up cuz youre his favourite meal~

Changbin

Would he possibly be walking in looking like he could murder someone? Yes. Will he come home to find you like that and go fucking feral? Absolutely. Will he just absolutely wreck your brains out? DEFINITELY. Do I even have to say anything?? The man is a gentle beast. He's gonna care for you, he's gonna love you, prepare you with foreplay and the moment he gets permission and knows you're ready to take him, he'd go BEAST. And then once you're done, and you'd just be laying there huffing in his arms, he would loudly yap about his day and by the end of it, let you know how much he loves you and appreciates your efforts cuz you unintentionally just made him the happiest man alive.

Hyunjin

Another guy who would worship you, really. When he gets home tired and groggy to see you sitting like a beautiful sculpture who was sculpted with extra care, extra love and extra details, he would fold. Probably melt in your arms telling you how crazy gorgeous you looked and how he would take his time painting you with his cum and then later after making a mess out of you, he'd take his time engraving your image both on his canvas and in his mind. No matter how tired he was from the day full of work, once you guys were done with all that, he would sit down on his painting stool with his large canvas in front of him while you laid there mindlessly filled and covered with his fluids. He'd look at you like a work of art, a once in a lifetime masterpiece created JUST for him while he keeps repeating sweet nothings as he paints you.

[oncasette]

elfsong tavern. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb!

jj + “I swear if we get caught then I’m actually going to kill you.” I feel like you’d eat this uppp 😋 also happy early birthday angel!!!! xxx

r's sleepover

You'd been put on a JJ ban. Well. More or less.

Your friends had had their fill of watching you and your boyfriend make out during what was supposed to be group hang outs and had effectively told you they would stop inviting the two of you if you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves. Thus, what you had deemed the JJ ban.

Despite his inability to touch you, he had kept his eyes locked on yours for the extent of the evening. You'd been forced to sit at opposite ends of the chateau's somewhat cramped living room with all of the other pogues shoved between you, but that hadn't stopped JJ's eyes from trailing each your movements. You'd caught him more than once. He had little shame.

Eventually, when your friends had begun to spread out to different areas and chat amongst themselves rather than with the group, JJ signaled for you to vacate the kitchen with a flick of his head toward the guest room. You managed to slip away from Sarah and Kie under the guise of a bathroom trip with little complaint.

"Thank God, baby, I've been going crazy all night," JJ groaned as he clicked the door shut quietly behind him, practically mauling you as he slants his mouth over yours. Giggling against his mouth, you loosely link your hands around his shoulders.

"How'd you get away?" you hum. Your nails scratch at the nape of his neck.

He shrugs between kisses. "Just left."

"Just left?" you scoff.

He nods, tilting his head to press further into your mouth. His hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers cold from the beer he'd been holding earlier.

"J, they're gonna know what we're up to if you just got up and wandered away," you laugh. With a purpose, at that.

"Nuh-uh."

"If they catch us in here, I swear I'm actually going to kill you," you huff, tone too amused to be confused with a literal threat. His nose nuzzles against your cheek in response, forcing a new set of giggles out of your throat.

"Nah, you love me too much to do that," he says.

"Sure about that?"

"Thousand percent, baby," he whispers, pecking a strip across your jaw. You don't think you care much about being caught, thinking back on it now.