#and they like him so much its not even funny and they really do just. abandon the rest of their life. they have no plans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emmg · 2 days ago

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He wrestles with a feverish appetite, this crude and uninvited urge that intrudes at its own whim—though, really, when would such thoughts be welcome? It is not refined, not proper, to sit opposite her and let his mind wander to the gloss of her lips, to wonder how she might taste, to wish that the mascarpone she savors so languidly were his own flesh, heavy and impatient.

He despises himself for it—wants to be better, finer, something more than hunger in its basest form. And yet, he wants. Sweetness, yes; kindness, yes; love in all its quiet splendor—but also salt and sweat, the lush, slippery heat between her legs, his or hers or both, some mingled thing he might catch on his fingers, press back inside her, trace along her trembling thighs as he coaxes her to completion.

But it is not only this. No, his disease is greater, more humiliating still. He thinks of grand, maudlin absurdities. Of flowers left on windowsills, of rings slipped onto fingers, of days spent making memories out of nothing. And it is this, not lust, that he fears might truly appall her. Because hunger, after all, is easy to satisfy. It is love, foolish and relentless, that tends to send people running.

You mustn’t be so sentimental, someone had murmured that to him once. He can no longer summon the speaker’s face, nor their voice, nor even their gender, only the ghostly trace of the words themselves, breathed or sighed, said once or, more likely, many times.

It became, in those gauzy, amber-lit years of his youth, something of a running jest. An affectionate, exasperated refrain, volleyed at him with the regularity of a well-worn melody.

"Don’t fucking propose to the waitress, Volkarin. She’s bringing you a beer, not subtly signaling that she wants to die in your arms," Johanna would mutter, leaning back against the sticky wood of some dimly lit tavern, where they debated spirits over spirits.

"They’re funding your research, Emmrich, not secretly applying to be the mother of your children."

"Your new assistant is very handsome. Try not to hyperventilate when he hands you a quill."

He laughed along. It was funny, after all. Until, inevitably, it wasn’t. Until the joke, fossilized through sheer, relentless overuse, lost its shape and became a dull thing, something to stub his patience against. Until his forced little chuckles gave way to eye-rolls, to abrupt departures, to a growing sense that he was, in fact, trapped in some long-running farce penned by a particularly untalented playwright.

They were all married now, every last one of them—the tireless jesters, the committee of mirth who, years later, still found delight in flogging the same long-dead horse. And he wasn’t. Not that he was alone, of course. He had his affairs, his amusements, his charming little entanglements. But still, from time to time, a most delicate and specific malice stirred in him.

He wanted to dig up some particularly malicious little corpse, whisper something truly awful to it, and dispatch it to haunt them. Not in any grand, dramatic fashion. No moaning, no rattling of chains. Just a gentle, relentless nuisance. A ghost of mild inconvenience. A door that won’t quite shut. A draft they can’t find. A whisper when they’re shaving. A misplaced document on the morning of a big presentation.

The sort of thing a petty man might dream up. And he has, after all, always been petty.

He tried, though. He tries still. To smooth the edges of his affections, to hush the operatic swell of his heart, to trade grand declarations for something gentler, something more palatable. Not entirely, of course—self-betrayal is a vulgar thing. But enough. Just enough to keep from frightening them, from scattering them like startled birds.

For Rook, mostly. Because Rook is not like him. Rook does not do sentiment. Rook has the supreme, indifferent ease of someone born beautiful, the kind of beauty that turns heads and opens doors without so much as a sidelong glance of acknowledgment. Rook has never had to earn affection—it accumulates around her the way cigarette smoke clings to velvet. Rook rolls her eyes at poetry. Rook, with her lazy smirk and her miraculous ability to construct entire, fully functional sentences composed exclusively of obscenities.

He loves Rook very, very much. He suspects Rook loves him too, in her own peculiar way. She smiles, she laughs, she allows him his embarrassing little effusions, even kisses him for his trouble—then, with perfect timing, calls him a dweeb and steals the last sip of his drink.

It’s fine. He’s learned to translate. In Rook’s private dialect, dweeb means yes, fine, I suppose you amuse me, a kiss means I would be inconvenienced by your untimely death, and drinking the last of his whiskey? That, of course, is a vow of eternal devotion. Or something like that.

It all collapses into a feverish, tangled catastrophe one evening. A breathless, ill-advised implosion of longing and lust and something dangerously adjacent to reverence. She is so, so beautiful, and he wants to touch her, of course, but also—he wants to read to her. Not the dull, airless sonnets, no, but the real poetry, the ones thick with scandal, with sin, the ones that might cajole that sharp little smirk from her lips. Maybe while his fingers are inside her. Maybe precisely then.

He wants to coax pleasure from her, whispering thick, illicit syllables against her skin, punctuating each lewd phrase with the curl of his knuckles, just to see how the two mingle, just to see which makes her gasp first. To see if she’ll arch into it, if she’ll moan, if she’ll laugh. Because of course she’ll laugh. She always does. Even when he licks his fingers clean, even when he settles between her thighs, even when he finds his own satisfaction in the aftermath of hers, she will be laughing.

It happens like that, and yet, not like that at all. Because as he collapses against her, boneless and spent, something dreadful and unmistakable unfurls in his chest—too late, of course, always too late. His sentimentality, that incurable affliction, has caught up with him at last, threading itself through his ribs, pressing its damp, foolish hands against his throat.

He bows his head to her chest, breathing her in, willing himself to contain it, to gather the wet, trembling edges of his absurd little heart and tuck them out of sight. Perhaps she will not notice. Perhaps she will feel only the smile he presses into her skin, as if that might smother the rest.

A silence—brief, terrible, perceptive.

"Oh no," she says, and he feels her fingers weave into his hair, loose and lazy and terribly knowing. "What the fuck did I do?"

He shakes his head—not much, nothing at all, everything. Just a little.

"Nothing, my darling," he says, only slightly unsteady. "Nothing at all. I am—" a soft exhale, an almost-laugh, "—very happy." He swallows. Feels the first pangs of self-reproach begin to bloom, acid-sweet. "Only… allow me a moment to gather myself. It will pass."

A brief caress at the base of his neck. Then, just as he begins to sink into it, she shifts, shoves, displaces him. He rolls onto his back, compliant, expectant, and she follows, settling astride him, her thighs bracketing his ribs, her cool hands framing his face.

"Happy?" she confirms.

"Yes, happy."

"Hm." A small, satisfied noise. "Good. Happy and pretty. You’re so very pretty."

She does not elaborate—she never does—but she kisses him. Thoroughly. His cheeks first, then his chin, the arch of his brow, the slow, methodical placement of lips upon skin, like affixing wax seals to letters never meant to be sent. His eyes, last. She drags a fingertip down, drawing his lids closed as if dimming a lamp. Then, the press of her mouth, warm, dry, familiar. And then—oh.

The flick of her tongue, feline and quick, slips between his lashes, parting what she has only just sealed, grazing the raw, unguarded wet beneath. He flinches; she giggles, breath skimming his cheek, unreasonably pleased with herself.

She does it again, slower this time, the tip of her tongue tracing the curve of his eyelid. Then once more, lower now, across the ridge of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth. A methodical, absentminded mapping—kisses pressed to skin with no particular urgency, a grazing of teeth when the impulse strikes her. He lies still beneath her, utterly at her mercy, though she is hardly in a hurry to exploit it. She seems content merely to taste him, her breath leaving damp traces that cool, then tighten, then disappear.

Chocolate, yes, still lingering from earlier, something dark and rich that settles at the back of his throat just from breathing her in. Salt, too, a faint sting where sweat beads along the curve of her upper lip.

Finally, an exhale. A minute adjustment of her weight as she lifts her head, pleased, apparently, with whatever inscrutable calculation she has been making. A kiss, light as a comma, stamped onto the very center of his mouth.

“There you go,” she announces, stretching her arms overhead, yawning into her wrist, smiling that slow, pleased smile of hers. “All cleaned up. Not a tear in sight, since you seem to find your own emotions so mortifying.”

"Thank you," he says, and, disastrously, feels like he might start crying again.

"Mm-hm." A pause. Her fingers tapping absently against his cheek. "There’s a joke in here somewhere."

"Is there?"

A frown, thoughtful, exaggerated, her brows knitting together in careful concentration before giving way to a terrible smile. "Yes." A beat. Then, the telltale flicker of something truly indecent behind her eyes. "Something about staying hydrated. Or maybe—" a pause, as if she is weighing her options "—eating out your third eye."

He laughs then immediately chokes as she presses her hand to his throat for balance, the casual weight of it cutting off just enough air to send his body into brief, ungraceful revolt.

"Never short on dreadful puns, I see." His voice, when it returns, is slightly hoarse.

"Never," she agrees. Then, with a flourish of indulgence, she leans down again, kissing his eyelids one by one. “So you continue doing this—” kiss, kiss, kiss “—and I'll continue doing that.”

Disgracefully, absurdly, he cries again, even as she laughs, even as her laughter spreads like ink in water, pulling him under, until the whole thing disintegrates into some ungovernable mixture of mirth and misery. He is laughing too—helplessly, wet-faced, ridiculous—and she, entirely unbothered by his descent into sentimentality, licks at the salt on his cheeks like a cat, or perhaps some particularly devoted dog, calling him pretty, pretty, pretty in that lazy, drawling way of hers, as if the word itself were a charm, a refrain, a verdict.

He wants to ask her why—why this word, why now, why, of all possible things, she has settled on this ludicrous, ill-fitting descriptor as he lies before her, blotchy and unsightly and utterly, embarrassingly undone. But she only snorts into his collarbone, her breath warm, unbothered, and the chant continues, pretty, pretty, pretty, until he is left with no choice but to accept it.

In the morning, his eyes are red. Lucanis notices. Davrin notices. The two, incapable of letting a thing be, set about turning his misfortune into sport, taking turns to see who can unearth the most appallingly indecent explanation.

He feels a migraine approaching.

And then Rook arrives, deposits a cup of coffee into his hands, and, without so much as a glance at him, declares, “He snorted too much powder last night. Leave him alone.”

Ah.

Oh.

He sits there, staring at her, vaguely appalled, impossibly infatuated, hopelessly starry-eyed. Very well, then. She has let sentiment in��however unwittingly, however carelessly—and now she will drown in it. And then, once she is thoroughly waterlogged, he will buy her all the gold in Nevarra.

#just liberating my writing folder from these emmrich character studies that no one asked for lmao #this man cries a lot and often #this is a hill i'll die on #he's cried after sex so many times he stopped counting #he just has feelings ok and wants to bake cupcakes #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #rook x emmrich #dragon age the veilguard #datv #my stupid writing #shortstories

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 12 hours ago

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⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Haechan x f!idol!reader

summary: what better way to promote your new music than to do an interview with your boyfriend?! Does he know that? No!

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

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You were grinning widely as you sat in the pink chair. You bowed to the camera introducing yourself with an excited smile, "Hi everybody! I'm so excited to be here today. The staff and I have planned a bit of a prank today."

Your friendship with Haechan had started when you debuted. Haechan was one of the first idols around your age that you felt comfortable with. He was funny, nice, and was a good friend. He gave you a lot of advice on how to handle the long days, how to speak up with your company, and how to take care of yourself when it all got to be too much. And perhaps... taking care of yourself meant indulging in your friendship with Haechan, in private and in public.

The fans had surprisingly been pretty cool about both of you being close. It wasn't very often that fans got to see two idols from different companies have a genuine friendship. They liked seeing the two of you play around backstage, the random mention of each other in YouTube vlogs or lives, and the very few and far between posts you shared of each other.

When the edits evolved from 8 whole minutes of the two of you being the best of friends to the both of you being secretly in love for 11 minutes, maybe, just maybe, you both began to see each other in a new way. Maybe you guys went on a date to test the waters and maybe that date meant that the two of you became something more and maybe this video would be one of the first times you both directly acknowledged your romantic relationship. Well, beyond standard wordy posts that your companies put out to disclose your relationship.

You smile at the camera, "today I will be pranking my boyfriend Haechan. He thinks he's doing this interview with someone else and has no clue its me!"

Finally, on the other side of the wall, enters the set and sits himself in the blue chair, "Hello, I am Haechan from NCT. Today I will be using the screen name Sunshine and I am excited to figure out my partner is. I think I'll figure it out very easily."

On your side of the wall you, cup a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle, "I'm going to be so annoying!"

"Hey," you type, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.

"Oh, it's starting!" you hear Haechan exclaim. You phone vibrates with a message that reads, 'hey.'

"Geez, he's really boring isn't he? Let's make this more exciting!" You laugh, typing back something you don't think you'd ever tell your boyfriend to his face, "wow, I know this is a handsome man I'm talking to. Tell me, are you handsome?"

Haechan flushes in front of the pink wall with his jaw dropped in shock, "w-what?!"

You calm down a bit, not being as bold with your flirtation so that the both of you could progress the conversation. You both make small talk, talking about base level interests. Then comes the home screen exchange. You'd been preparing for this!

Since no one ever really saw your homescreens, you and Haechan had decided to have cute matching backgrounds, a cute couples selfie you'd taken together. What he didn't know, and you didn't tell him because he was so whiny, was that you had changed it. So he sent you an blurred version of his usual background, a picture of the two of you with you biting his cheek and his eyes screwed shut laughing. You knew the picture well, not only because you lived it but also because you had the picture that followed as your own background before you changed it for this interview.

Haechan's phone dropped from his hands, eyes blown wide in shock again. The staff were busy laughing behind the camera while you sat with a smug smile, listening for his reaction. "Is this real? Is this actually your background?" You read the message that had been sent to you.

"Why wouldn't it be?" You message him back.

Haechan doesn't even look at his phone again, he locks his screen and sets it on his thigh. He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, "how do you turn someone down nicely?"

You bite your lip when you hear that. Your plan had worked, your precious Haechan was flushed and embarrassed. You type back, "do you know NCT Haechan? He's so talented and funny. I'm a big fan, are you?"

"Yeah, it couldn't be more obvious," Haechan grumbles, staring at the homescreen. He can't look at any of the apps or notifications because he's staring at his own face! A collage of pictures of him-- only him. Pictures of him from his debut to pictures of him from his last performance.

Maybe he was speaking to some kind of comedian, it was some kind of joke that happened to revolve around him. He'd watched some of these interviews before and it never worked out that one person knew who they were texting and the other didn't. This had to be some kind of strange coincidence.

He somehow expertly turned the conversation around, evading your question and changed the conversation into something more lighthearted. Then comes the first Would You Rather. The question: would you rather make a burping sound while farting or farting sound while burping?

You take a second to think, considering the question then finally send your answer, "I think I'd rather make a farting sound while burping."

"Really?" Haechan replies, "why is that? I mean I agree, but I'm curious to hear your reasoning?"

"Tell me yours first," you reply.

"Well mostly I don't want to feel the rumbling feeling of a burp in my butt," Haechan types out.

"He's so gross," you mutter as you read the screen, "he's such a guy." And yet you type out a message, "wow, that's so manly of you.."

Haechan runs his hand through his hair, "how would someone read that and find it attractive?"

Again, he doesn't address your flirting. He maneuvers around it, he doesn't want to be the guy that hurts yours or anyone's feelings, even a stranger's.

By the time the both of you get to the end of the interview having just sent the most recent pictures in your camera roll to each other, Haechan feels a horrible ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. You had sent him a picture of a flower from some bush outside and he had sent you a picture of the products that had been used on his face before the interview. (He'd sent the picture to you.) How is he going to handle this?!

He looks up from yet another flirty message with a look of unease, "you guys don't do these things with crazy fans right?"

The staff reassure him that no, they absolutely would not ever do anything to put him or anyone else in harm's way. His partner is just a silly person, a jokester.

You, on the other hand, are a ball of excitement to reveal yourself. The time comes to meet your partner, though you already know yours. You prop yourself on the wall, one hand outstretched against the wall and the other on your hip.

Haechan rounds the corner and sees you. You flip your hair, winking at him with a, "hey, handsome."

He falls to his knees, hand clutched over his heart while he lets out a sigh of relief and a loud exaggerated whine, "how could my own lover do this to me?!"

It takes both you and the staff to calm Haechan down, but you eventually get him to sit in the chair of the high top table and get the frown off his face. He's still pouty of course, and he lets you know so, "how could you do this to me?"

"With the help of my managers, your managers, the production here at Kode... duh," you answer, squeezing his knee beneath the table reassuringly.

"You're so funny," he deadpans, "but seriously, I was so stressed that I was going to have to see a real life crazy person and turn them down while maintaining my safety. Thank goodness it was a real life crazy person I already knew."

You shove his shoulder with a laugh, "so you had no clue who it was?"

"Absolutely no clue," Haechan confirms, "I did think that this was going to be easy at first, but you came on so strong that I had to mostly focus on getting us to have a normal, not flirty conversation. Did you have fun stressing me out, my menace?"

"The best time ever," you nod with a proud smile.

Haechan lets out a breathy laugh, more of a soft exhale of air as he pulls your hand up and pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, "I'm never doing an interview with you ever again."

"You say that now, but you're my biggest fan. Don't you want me to be successful? How can I be successful if even my handsome, sunbaenim boyfriend won't help me?" You tease, looking at him with a look all too innocent to be real.

"Oh right. Please make sure to check out my girlfriend's first solo debut. The music is amazing, her voice sounds like angels singing, the music videos are award winning, the outfits are out of this world and there is nothing like it in all the world. Please support her... or I will have to," Haechan states with a fake smile while looking right into the lens of the camera, letting his smile drop into a pleading face for the ending.

"Yes, please make sure to check out my solo! I appreciate it," you smile at the camera, bowing to show your gratitude. While you fulfill your promoting duties you miss the adoring look on Haechan's face. The way his eyes soften and he looks at you with a calm, serene look of love.

You look at him with a soft smile, "can you forgive me for my prank?"

He tugs you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, "I can make an exception if you promise this will be the last time you prank me."

"Well, of course," you answer too quickly. A lie, of course.

The conversation between you dwindles down and the two of you take your selfie. You smile brightly at the camera with your head tucked beneath Haechan's chin, Haechan smiles sweetly at the camera with his usual close-lipped smile. It's the first selfie as a romantic couple that anyone will see of the two of you and it makes you slightly nervous, but more than anything you're excited for people to see just a sliver of the dynamic you and Haechan share, the love that's there.

"Thank you to the team at Kode for having us and thank you to the fans in advance for all the love and support. I hope you love it," you smile at the cameras.

The video ends with the screen fading to black, but if fans listen closely, they can hear Haechan reassuring you, "everyone is going to love it, honey. How could they not love anything you do?"

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adoresia · 2 days ago

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꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff ft Satoru Gojo :: dad gojo , domestic fluff , comfort moments , gojo is acting like a man child , light humour . W/C ★ 0.4k

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: Based off of this request from @alixezae !! Sorry for the long wait 😣 Had to put these in queued order because tumblr hates me apparently but I could never forget thank you very much for the request 😋😋😋 also not really a part two of morning monologue but still.

˙🏷️ ̟ Satoru’s masterlist | JJK masterlist | Main masterlist

Satoru was sat on the couch, his baby nestled against his chest, small fists clinging to his shirt. His normally smug grin was nowhere to be found — replaced instead with a dramatic pout as he watched you move around the room, effortlessly drawing the baby’s attention without even trying. You must be wondering how we got here.

It had been weeks since he’d noticed the shift. At first he thought of it as a silly coincidence. Babies went through phases right? But this definitely was not a phase. Your baby loved you in a way that made him feel like he wasn’t even there, you could say. It left THE Gojo satoru — the most charismatic person in existence — relegated to the sidelines.

He tried everything. From silly faces to floating toys. Peekaboo could only go so far — nothing seemed to work. His precious baby would giggle politely and act humoured for a few seconds, but then immediately looked out for you again.

It was funny at first but now it’s humiliating, Satoru would say its not fair how much his baby gave you so much attention so much that eventually it made you wonder if you gave birth to two big babies instead of just one.

“You’ve bewitched him,” he muttered, his voice low and accusatory. You glanced over your shoulder, brow raised. “Satoru- What are you talking about?”

“Satoru junior,” he gestured dramatically to the tiny bundle on his chest “We were supposed to be each others number one fan. But he treats me like some guy at the park trying to lure little kids into the back of his van with dorritos.”

“Firstly, I dont remember agreeing on such a name. Secondly, You kinda do” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your baby’s head. “But I guess he just loves me more.”

Your baby babbled in agreement.

Satoru groaned flopping back onto the couch like the weight of the world had just crushed him. “This is betrayal on the highest level.”

Before you could respond your baby stirred, letting out a soft — sleepy whimper. And without missing a beat, Gojo shifted them against his shoulder while his hand instinctively pat his back in gentle, rhythmic motions.

You watched as the tension melted from his face, replaced by something softer and more genuine. Your little baby’s tiny hand clung to his shirt, his breathing evened out as he drifted back to sleep.

Satoru looked up at you, his expression smug once more. “See? I’ve still got it.”

“That was a pity nap,” you said grinning.

“Stop trying to steal my credit,” he huffed.

And as your baby nestled closer to him, Gojo decided that maybe being second place wasn’t so bad — especially when it came with moments like these.

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writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink · 21 hours ago

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No cause you know what would be funny as fuck Ras Al ghul randomly showing up to the Wayne Manor and just letting himself in doesn't wait for anyone to let him in and he doesn't even tell Talia he's stopping by Wayne Manor and it's the anniversary of Jason's rebirth and Ras accidentally missed Damian's birthday because he was out of the country so here he is just waltzing into the manor here's how I think it'll go

Ra's: breaks into Wayne Manor and bee-lines to the batcave cause his spies told him Damian and Jason were down there

Bruce:has his back turned to the entrance in the middle of lecturing Jason for being reckless and for rigging his batmobile to shoot fucking glitter bombs whenever he tried to fire any kind of projectile

Jason: come on it was funny and it worked honestly I thought you'd be happy no one's dead they're just covered in glitter

Bruce: eye twitching

Damian: notices Ras just casually waltzing into the bat cave

Damian: hello grandfather

Bruce:spins around to find Ras in his lair bracing himself for a fight or some type of bad news only for ras to by pass him entirely and beeline to Jason and Damian

Ra's: snaps his fingers and assassin's come out of nowhere seemingly appearing from the shadows one is holding a bear cub with a little bow on its head and hands it to damian and steps back meanwhile another assassin appears with a giant stack of first edition leather bound classic literature and some rare ones that are almost unheard of to have

Ra's: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY GRANDSON'S :)

Bruce: is baffled because why is Ras calling Jason his grandson where did he get a bear cub why is he gifting Damian a bear cub, Damian's birthday was a month ago wtf Bruce's eye is twitching

Jason: oooo these are really hard to get, oh all of these are leather bound this is awesome thanks gramps though it's not really my birthday is your memory going old man

Ra's: this is the anniversary of your rebirth

Jason: ...

Damian: I appreciate the gift grandfather I shall name this bear lilly

Bruce: Damian I ... Look okay.. it's nice your .. his eye is twitching and he's trying to not lose his patience because again wtf.. grandfather has put an effort into this uh. Gift but you simply can't keep a bear in the manor much less in Gotham it's a wild animal

Damian: 😐 so isn't Jason and we keep him around and he gets to waltz around Gotham and the manor

Jason: hey listen here ya little shit

Bruce: exasperated first off your brother is not an animal secondly I'm not sure it's legal to keep a bear cub as a pet in Gotham

Damian: like running around Gotham dressed as a bat to beat up bad guys is legal, or that time you purposely broke into Arkham asylum to free Selina Kyle because her input on your suit was just sooooo important

Bruce: looks to Alfred

Alfred: well we do have the land space to build a sanctuary for the cub and the permits it would be quite an easy task to say the Wayne foundation is funding a bear sanctuary

Damian: ☺️ thank you Alfred

Bruce: turns to Ras why would you gift Damian a bear cub

Ra's: it was on his wishlist, and only the best for my grandsons, also you owe me child support

Bruce: ready to throw hands at this point

Alfred: smirks

Jason: trying really hard not to laugh

Ra's: ofcourse I'll let it go if you let the boy keep the bear cub in fact I have another gift but it won't be arriving for about a week 🙂.. he then turns to Damian you should give your mother a call she said something about wanting to plan something I'm really not sure what it is she's on about but regardless I think she'd like your input ... Well actually both your inputs

Bruce: sighs fine they get to keep the bear and we'll build the damn sanctuary but Damian i expect you to have it at least potty trained and do not under any circumstances let it in the kitchen I do not need a repeat of last time you got a new pet

Ra's: happy that he's annoyed the fuck out of Bruce and got his grandsons Great gifts my job here is done he claps his hands and his assassins fade back into the shadows

Jason: already lounging on a couch reading

Damian: holding the bear in his arms and patting it let's go get you some apples covered in honey 😊 walks out the cave with the bear cub

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peterm4rker · 3 days ago

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from the rooftops || m.l

twenty seven. the date (written)

🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 2.5k w. curse words, a little kissing ! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

nothing could’ve ever prepared you for a date with mark.

you had hung out with him multiple times, of course, alone more than not. but this was different, because it was a date, and you knew he liked you just as much.

also because it was the first time you hung out after finding out about his secret identity, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

what was important was trying to get your hands to stop sweating and let you hide how incredibly nervous you were for the encounter as you stood in front of your apartment building, where days before mark had saved you from a really bad time.

you sucked in a breath as you saw his car pull up to the driveway, starting to walk towards him as he got out of the car, meeting him halfway.

“hi” he smiled, as softly as you had ever seen him while he extended a bouquet of flowers towards you.

“hi” you smiled back, doing the exact same thing with your own bouquet.

“you got me flowers?” he asked, the tone of his voice betraying how moved he felt at the gesture.

“pretty boys deserve pretty flowers as well” you answered and swapped the flowers, holding your own close to your chest. “thank you, they’re beautiful.”

he looked at you so fondly that if you hadn’t already been convinced he liked you, that would’ve done the trick. “you’re beautiful.” he breathed out, and the color on your cheeks made itself present for the first time that day.

“let’s go before i explode,” you chuckled softly, thanking him when he opened the door for you and getting in your seat.

the drive was filled with chatter as you approached the restaurant you had agreed to eat at, just both of you enjoying each other's company like you always did.

mark made sure to open both the car door and the restaurant one, making you smile at his gentlemanly behaviour.

“i’d fuck with pizza right now” you said once you were sitting down looking at the menu.

“me too, actually” he nodded, leading you to agree on which one you wanted and get that one.

“so, i have a question,” you commented after a couple of seconds of silence, watching him arch his brow in curiosity. “what made you want to ask me out all of the sudden?”

you knew the answer, but he didn’t know you knew, and you wanted to see what he would say.

“well, it wasn’t really all of the sudden,” he commented, scratching the back of his neck softly. “i’ve liked you for a long time now, i even had a crush on you before we became close.” the way his cheeks dusted with pink as he confessed he liked you outloud for the first time made your heart flutter. it was funny to think about all the time you had spent yearning for him when apparently he had done the same, but you wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

“i had a crush on you before too,” you smiled, picking at your fingernails as a sign of nervousness. mark noticed and took your hand in his, avoiding that you hurt yourself and well, just because he wanted to hold your hand. the gesture made butterflies erupt on your stomach, completely endeared by it.

“really?” he asked, an incredulous look on his face as he absentmindedly caressed the skin of your hand with his thumb.

“mhm, why do you think i took the bio chem article at the beginning of the year?” you asked, a teasing smile on your face as you squeezed his hand. “

“i thought you said it was interesting!” he whined, feigning betrayal.

“i'm sure it was for people that actually understood it…” you tried to defend quickly.

“i explained it to you,” he chuckled, amused.

“i wasn’t listening, you’re too pretty,” you smiled, looking at him with adoring eyes.

mark groaned and covered his face with his free hand, trying to hide the blush that made its way onto his face. “so i took all of that time to explain for nothing?”

“well i wouldn’t say so, we ended up on a date almost eight months later,” you chuckled, watching him with amusement.

“true, it was worth it” he smiled once he had calmed down, squeezing your hand lightly “and right after that you were there with that one rando with the sound waves.”

oh! the one you caught within minutes?

“yeah, i remember. spiderman came in clutch though,” you smiled “he keeps saving me time on time again, he’s awesome.”

if you hadn’t been looking so intently you would’ve missed the way his expression turned proud for a moment before he cleared his throat and got a grip again.

“he’s pretty awesome” he nodded, a small smile on his face.

“the awesomest” you smiled.

…

“that was crazy,” he sighed as he leaned on the back of his chair, completely satisfied with the food you two had shared.

“insanely good, we should come here again” you nodded, causing mark to smile at the prospect of another date. he shouldn’t have been surprised considering you had confessed your undying crush to him without even knowing it, but it was a pleasant feeling to hear you say it to his face.

“we definitely should,” he agreed, “but now i really want ice cream.”

this was your opportunity.

“we could go to that ice cream parlor i told you about the other day.” you said, trying to sound as casual as you could. “the one near han river.”

you saw a flicker of doubt cross his eyes before he ultimately nodded, standing up and extending his hands towards you. “lead the way then.”

you smiled and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “we still need to pay, markie.”

“nope, i paid when i went to the bathroom” he smiled smugly as he moved his arm to rest around your shoulders, holding you closer to him.

“we said i would pay half!” you whined, and he shrugged. “i’ll pay next time”

“nope, you won’t” he smiled as he ruffled your hair before beginning to walk away, leading you to do the same with his side hug.

you both thanked the workers as you headed out, deciding to walk to the ice cream parlor since it was closer than you had initially thought.

the boy didn’t let go of your hand at any point, holding you as close as he could without making you both trip on each other's feet. he still couldn’t believe that he had you with him now, that he was allowed to touch you that way and you didn’t mind it a single bit.

“what flavour do you want?” you asked after a long discussion on who would pay for ice cream where you ultimately came out victorious.

“uhm, i think chocolate please” he asked, and a smirk took place on your lips.

of course he wanted chocolate.

“here you go” you handed the cup to him, paying quickly for both and thanking the worker before getting back to his side.

“thank you” he smiled, taking a lick of his ice cream and letting out a small groan.

“fire?” you asked, a smug smile on your lips.

“flames” he nodded innocently. only two seconds passed before his eyes widened and his face went pale as he turned quickly to look at you.

click.

“you know” he muttered, and you felt slightly bad for making him realize. he looked so scared, terrified even.

“i do know” you nodded, voice soft as you reached a bench and took a seat on it, waiting for him to do the same.

“since when?” he asked as he sat down, his voice small.

“i’ve known for about two months,” you said, keeping your tone soft and your eyes trained on his face. “that’s why i told him, you, about you, i thought that would give me an answer about if you liked me or not.”

mark stayed silent, and fear began to arise on your body. had you fucked up? had you completely crossed a line he never wanted to cross? you shouldn’t have said anything, it was not your place to discover it.

“i’m sorry,” he spoke quickly, beating you to say the words that were about to come out of your lips.

“why are you sorry? i should be saying sorry, it wasn’t my place to pry like that” you spoke, feeling remorse harboring in your stomach.

“no, don’t be sorry,” he said, giving you a soft smile as he left his ice cream cup at his side on the bench. his hands moved tenderly to your face, which he held with so much care someone would think you were made of porcelain. “i wanted to tell you, and i was going to, i promise. it’s just not easy, it could put us both in danger.”

your eyes were fighting to keep the tears away as you looked at him. you didn’t even know why you were crying, but the loving, concerned tone in mark’s voice was too much for your poor heart to handle.

“i promise i would never say anything to anyone” you assured quickly, leaving your own cup to the side. “i would rather die than put you in danger.”

mark immediately shook his head. “you will never have to choose between those options. but if you’re ever put in that situation and i'm not there to save you, you tell whoever wants to know, okay? i don’t want to be the cause of any harm done to you.”

you couldn’t help but embrace him in your arms, hugging him tight to your body as he held you just the same.

“nothing will happen, i’m sure” you assured, your voice muffled by his chest.

“i won’t let anything happen.” he assured, his hand caressing your hair softly.

…

“thank you for coming with me,” mark said as you stood at the entrance of your building.

“thank you for asking me” you smiled, your hand playing with his fingers softly.

you both stared at each other in silence for a couple of seconds before mark’s eyes travelled down to your lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own. he was dying to kiss you, and by the sight of how you wet your lips just then, you wanted the same thing.

“you could, uhm, come upstairs if you want” you commented, and mark had never agreed to something faster in his life.

you entered your apartment and turned on the lights, moving aside to let mark in and close the door behind him. the boy was nervous, his hands fumbling with his rings. he was familiar with the apartment, but he had never been there with you alone.

“i’m gonna put the flowers in a vase, wait for me for a second, okay?” you asked, waiting until he nodded to leave him alone in the room.

mark looked around, unsure of what to do until you came back. he didn’t have to wait long though, it didn't even take two minutes for you to be back in front of him.

the tension was high as you stood in front of him, your eyes trained on each other once again. mark’s hand moved slowly to take a strand of your hair behind your ear, his heart fluttering when you nuzzled softly against his palm. he took the chance to cup your jaw and tilt your head upwards, just until it was angled right for him to press his lips onto yours.

when he did, everything he had ever known fell apart. every fear, every worry, every girl he had ever kissed before simply disappeared as your lips began moving against his.

kissing mark was like nothing you had ever done before. his lips were soft and he knew how to move them a little too well. his hands felt just right as he held your jaw and your waist, pulling you closer to him as the kiss grew deeper.

you didn’t know if it had been seconds or minutes when you parted for air, but the dazed look in his eyes leaned you to the latter.

“you don’t understand how long i’ve been waiting to do that” he muttered, and the low tone of his voice made you shudder.

“believe me, i understand” you smiled before connecting your lips again.

minutes passed before you broke away again, and you suddenly found yourself pressed up against a wall with his leg dangerously placed between yours.

“mark?” you asked softly as he parted from you again. he hummed as a small smile placed itself on your lips. “i want to try something,” you commented, making him look at you curiously.

“what is it?” he asked, his thumb drawing circles on the skin of your waist.

“you can stick to walls, right?”

…

“i can’t believe you’re making me do this,” mark chuckled as you took a small step away from him.

“come on, don’t be a meanie” you encouraged, and he could never say no to the beautiful smile on your lips. he let out an exaggerated sigh and you cheered, knowing he had caved.

you watched him as he shot a spiderweb straight from his wrist and pushed himself up, making sure to hang upside down. he couldn’t help the giant smile on his lips as he watched you look at him with wonder filled eyes. “so? come on, i still get dizzy sometimes.”

you let out a small giggle before going up to him, holding his face on your hands and pressing your lips together in a kiss. it wasn't a long one, just a long peck followed by many little ones before he moved back into a standing position, shaking his head softly to get rid of the dizziness.

“happy?”

“so happy” you smiled, looking at him with loving eyes. “thank you for doing that, i know it's silly.”

“maybe, but you looked cute upside down,” he smiled. “i have a favor i want to ask you too.”

“what is it?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“would you maybe want to come with me to the new years party?” he asked, now feeling a little shy.

“of course i would” you smiled, shoving his shoulder lightly. “you think i would let another girl kiss you at twelve? i’m not that dumb.”

mark chuckled happily and hugged your waist, bringing you closer to him and leaving a peck on your forehead. “i wouldn’t want to kiss another girl anyways.”

“good” you smiled, hugging his shoulders and pecking his lips. “now, what other funny things can you do?”

“am i a clown to you, woman?”

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★ blue's corner ;; only three chapters to go... ★ tag list ;; @winwintea @neozon3nha @kittydollzz @spacejip @injunnie-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @n0hyuck @julsinglee @leejenoenthusiast @morkiee @taroddori @mrsjohnnysuh @sunghoonsgfreal @dr3amersdiary @grlscrushing @flaminghotyourmom @johnsuhsbanana @stqrgr7 @sibwol @synthwxve @222brainrot @jeonghansshitester @gomdoleemyson @ninahorikoshifr @chriscentric @flamingi @yizhrt @clean-soap @haechology @hyuckies18 @yutasloverr @kukkurookkoo @beanpd @remgeolli @pikibell @marksendgame @vantxx95 @iwantmarklee @urlocalbeaner5 @meowtella @iknow-yuno @jaelvr ★ back to the main masterlist ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any content !!

#mark #mark lee #mark smau #nct dream #nct dream smau #kpop #kpop smau #nct #nct smau #mark texts #mark x reader #wayv #mark social media au #nct dream social media au #nct social media au #🕸🕷✮⋆˙ peterm4rkerswrld #🕸🕷✮⋆˙ from the rooftops #🕸🕷✮⋆˙ mark

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mamayura · 19 hours ago

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Okay but what's crazy is that the episode does subtly reveal that Adrien did keep it a secret from Marinette that he's more than silent jogging buddies with Sublime

In the beginning, Marinette says that when she asked Adrien if he and Sublime talk when they go running he always says "no". This is factually correct as we find out in the end through Sublime:

But there is obviously something not adding up here. Sublime literally says "Outside of running, of course Adrien and I talk". They just arent talking in any of their morning runs because Sublime in particular is doing it as serious training. So no talking because that would impact their breathing, but outside of that? Well, yeah, duh.

And that makes sense

Adrien and Sublime are in the same ancient Greek class, of course they would talk. I'm gonna go with the assumption that this is why Sublime started running by his side, because they vaguely knew each other from Greek class and when they crossed each others running paths one morning they were familiar enough to just run together in silence

Look, I- I dont know how to put this more elegantly, so I'll rip off the bandaid. The vibes I'm getting from this episode are that Adrien was more than cool with not talking anyway because he deliberately keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because he knew Marinette would be weird about it and that made him uncomfortable.

He knows his girlfriend and she's peanut-butter-and-jealous.

And the thing is, as much as this certainly is a complicated topic with a lot of factors to consider for both sides, the way the episode had Marinette go about all this...

... the episode proved him RIGHT. He was right to be too uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about being friends with Sublime. She merely found out that they were running together in silence and proceeded to not only keep watching them each morning and taking photos, Marinette even proceeded to stalk the hell out Sublime:

No, this isnt normal. This isnt a "quirky girlfriend" thing to do, or "funny haha". Its one of the reason why Adrien didnt feel comfortable letting her know.

And, I mean, yeah. I can't blame him for it, can I? :I

Later on, Sublime is very quick to piece together that the girl hiding behind them is Adrien's girlfriend. Not the thing I would immediately go with, unless of course Adrien did already vaguely mention having a girlfriend to Sublime at one point. Then yes, her coming to this conclusion after Marinette followed her all day makes a lot more sense. Even if those are not.. nice implications. The episode does go on playing it straight at first that Marinette is the weird and a bit alarming girlfriend.

Look, you can pretty this up if you like, but for me, Adrien is clearly a solid bit uncomfortable and very apologetic here to Sublime because of Marinette's behavior. Sublime too is being nice about it to a degree you shouldnt take for granted. She would have had been perfectly justified in saying something else entirely. Adrien is trying to be a good boyfriend about this, but Marinette is out here proving him right in having struggled with wanting her to know about Sublime. Marinette has been following her around all day, Sublime noticed, and Adrien is doing good faith damage control here by telling Sublime that Marinette has good intentions and only wants to be her friend.

Something, though, that the episode clarified 3 times wasnt really the case:

It is so weird that at the core of the problem for both sides of Adrinette WAS Marinette being peanut-butter-and-jealous.

Marinette did NOT try to befriend Sublime out of some pure-hearted desire to know her. She did so because she feared that Adrien could end up not loving her anymore if she doesnt gain some control over the Sublime situation real quick

And Adrien DID keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because, well, was he wrong?

And thats the thing. The episode just DROPS this in favor of saying that Marinette only had these pure-hearted intentions to know her when that isnt true. The episode proved Adrien alarmingly RIGHT in his gut feeling to keep Sublime a secret from Marinette, they just-

They just didnt let him know about any of it as if that makes it any less true. I would understand it if this episode had been entirely about tackling this issue for good. Adrien not being wrong for feeling uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about any new female friends and then Adrien gets proven right, but the situation is saved by Marinette's secondary desire of befriending Sublime.

Sure, not the plot of my choice, but I would GET IT because it would actually cover the given problem. Here it is... they didnt do it. Adrien was proven right, Marinette did everything wrong to Sublime that was possible and ended up breaking her prosthetic and ruined the sponsorship with a combo of Marinette's and Ladybug's harmful inconsideration.

Marinette did exactly what Adrien was afraid of... and they just DON'T resolve the initial Adrinette core of this issue. It's still ongoing. Marinette didnt even get to react in the end to finding out that Adrien did keep her in the dark about talking to Sublime:

I guess for now the explanation for that will be that Adrinette switched positions in this for once and now it's Marinette who isnt questioning it enough that Adrien only said the truth to her going by the technicality of "She only ask him if they talk while running".

Obviously, this is not how it works. He kept her in the dark. And whether he was right to doing so or not isnt important for the feeling I'm getting that this is just the beginning of a streak of similar problems like this. The postponed resolution to this will happen at a later point, and knowing Miraculous, they'll do it after it escalates to hell.

We already saw it in "Illustrhater" and the synopsis for "Werepapas" for example also sounds like Marinette will not stop here being a questionable girlfriend

I just dont understand why they would keep on DOING that?

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #ml season 6 #ml speculation #ml theory #Adrinette #ml sublimation

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dr-spectre · 3 days ago

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Ok... is it safe to talk about Sonic Movie 3 spoilers yet? The movie is out on digital and it's been over a month.

Idk. Anyways.

I am both curious and utterly terrified on how they are gonna write Metal Sonic and Amy for Sonic Movie 4.

I will start off with my boy Metal first.

Metal Sonic to me is a very interesting character due to his goals and motivation. His goal to prove that he is the REAL Sonic and that he's better than the "fake" one. The way that he acts is a near perfect replication of Sonic's attitude, from the finger wagging to the poses he does in Sonic CD and the OVA, he is all about proving that he is Sonic the Hedgehog.

Metal Sonic is just not a simple robotic clone, he has depth to him and they expand upon GREATLY when he becomes Neo Metal Sonic and becomes SO OBSESSED with proving that he's the real Sonic by turning into a monster and trying to rule over everything, just so he can finally kill Sonic.

EVEN EGGMAN IS LIKE "Yeah naw dude we're fucked, we NEED the chaos emeralds to have a chance at beating him."

After his Heroes appearance, he became nothing more than a robotic clone used in spinoff games and in terrible mainline games like Sonic 4 and Forces. He only had splashes of depth to him in the IDW comics with this phenomenal scene.

So when i see Metal Sonic and a whole army of him in the post credit scene of Sonic Movie 3, i can't help but feel VERY WORRIED on what they are gonna do with him.

I mean don't get me wrong, the design is nearly on par with the game version, aside that fucking mouth piece thing, it looks AWFUL!!!! I HATE ITTTT!!

WHAT IS THIS!?!? WHY DOES HE HAVE AN ANGRY MOUTH!? ITS NOT SCARY AT ALL LMAO!

But now I'm just wondering, will they give Metal Sonic that depth he used to have? Will we actually see Neo Metal Sonic or will the main Metal Sonic be the coloured one we saw?

I don't want Metal Sonic to be like his appearances in Sonic 4 Episode 2 and Forces. I want it to rival his appearance in the OVA and Heroes dude. I want a fucking great antagonist, not a cheap robot that shoots out energy blasts.

I want a god damn intimidating robot Sonic.

Now... Amy Rose.

As some of you probably know, i like a character wrapped in pink, is hyperactive, wields a giant melee weapon and is always mischaracterized in the fandom they are from. When i was younger, i used to dismiss her or think she was just funny and move on. But as i've gotten older, i've actually grown to really like the character, especially in the older 3D games and with retranslation mods. Her story with Gamma was beautiful, her speech to Shadow, her jokes, her flirty/fangirl attitude towards Sonic. It's really fun to watch. Most media has a boy fall in love with the girl, but with Amy and Sonic, it's the opposite. Their dynamic is unique.

I also love how in some stories, Amy can get REAL PISSED OFF and have anger issues. Even roses has thorns.

However... in more recent stories like Frontiers, her personality has been mellowed out by a lot and her crush for Sonic is pretty much gone now. She's all about "sharing love with the world" now and her anger issues are gone.

Some say she's grown up and "oh she changed!" But we actually don't see this character growth at all. It's one thing to tell a story about how Amy learns that maybe her love for Sonic is too much and she learns to just be a good friend to Sonic. But it's another when the character has a MASSIVE personality change between Lost World, Forces and Frontiers. AND THEN THEY CHANGED GENERATIONS TO MAKE AMY LESS FLIRTY AND ANGRY LIKE.... HUH!?!? WHY!?!?!? THAT'S NOT HOW YOU WRITE A CHARACTER ARC!!!!! YOU GOTTA SHOW IT!!!! (A lot of Sonic characters have this issue too so it's not just an Amy problem.)

And them also doing the whole "Amy is no longer a damsel in distress anymore and her love for Sonic is over" is just... no dude. Amy was a damsel a couple of times and they never lasted that long. She's not on the same level as Peach. And the IDW comics tried to make her a Sally Acorn type character for some reason as well at first. Which was REALLY WEIRD! But maybe it's changed idk, i haven't kept up with the comics these days.

The only Amy that i really like in more modern stories is the one from The Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog. Now THAT'S how you write Amy.

So now, when i see Amy come in with a hood on and destroying Metal Sonics with ease, I'm left wondering, "oh no... how are they gonna write her?"

Will they actually show Amy's crush on Sonic? Will Amy just have Sally's personality? Will they give her some damn thorns? Will they make it to where SONIC IS THE ONE WITH THE CRUSH!?!? PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! DO NOT GO THE GENERIC ROUTE PLEASE!!

If they make it to where when Amy takes off her hood in Sonic Movie 4 and immediately falls for Sonic I'll eat all of my words, but i doubt that would happen....

Anyhow, those were my thoughts, i know that it's too early to make a definitive statement on things but i just wanna voice my concerns due to other recent Sonic stories not landing in the characterisation department for me.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie spoilers #sonic movie 4 #sonic 4 #sonic cd #sonic heroes #metal sonic #amy rose #rambles #ramblings #sonic ova #neo metal sonic #metal overlord

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peachhcs · 11 hours ago

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Saw a tik tok of this girl introducing her boyfriend as her “side piece” and his reaction was so funny the way his head clocked to the side had me crying.

What do you think Wills reaction would be to Samy doing that?

i’ve actually haven’t seen this trend yet so i’m kind of winging how it would go, but i can imagine how funny it would be and how caught off guard will would be if samy did this to him.

lowkey small jealousy trope as well (someone give me more requests about jealousy bc i love writing jealousy trope 😼)

au masterlist

now samy knew will wouldn’t voluntarily do a tiktok with her after all of the pranks she’s pulled on him, so she had to be discrete about this one. she set up her phone camera and made up a story about how samy needed to record herself introducing the people in her life as part of this class assignment.

it was half believable and will was somewhat gullible, so he agreed to it. samy pulled the blonde into the frame where he awkwardly smiled as she leaned forward to start recording.

“hi, so for my first introduction, i will be introducing will smith. will is a hockey player for the san jose sharks and previously the boston college eagles. will and i have known each other for some years and now i’d say our relationship is..complicated. i guess one could say he’s my side piece—“

as soon as samy said that she watched the way the boy’s head snapped in her direction. he moved his neck so fast the brunette swore he gave himself whiplash and she really struggled to keep from laughing.

“woah wait what the fuck?” will didn’t even stop his tone.

“what?” samy played dumb and looked at him confused.

“i’m your side piece? what the fuck?” he looked so mad and hurt.

“well like..i dunno. maybe i shouldn’t have said that..” samy continued going with it.

“maybe? i..i thought— am i not your boyfriend? is there someone else?” watching the way will’s expression turned to full hurt and betrayal broke the younger hughes’ heart so much that she couldn’t keep going.

“i’m joking, i’m joking. this is a prank. i’m sorry, baby. you are my boyfriend. i promise there isn’t anyone else,” samy broke and it tooo the hockey player another second to catch on. when he did he rolled his eyes and flipped off the camera.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouted and started to walk away. samy just pulled him back though, clinging to his arm.

“i’m so sorry, will. i saw someone do the trend and wanted to do it on you, but that was mean. i love you,” the soccer player rushed.

will wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his chest, fighting the smile creeping its way to his lips because he could never stay mad at her.

“tell me you’re mine,” he said.

“i’m yours, will. i’m all yours, i promise. i love you,” samy said.

“i love you too,” he smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips which samy got all on video because she hadn’t stopped recording yet.

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turingtestedblog · 1 day ago

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I AM STILL WORKING OUT DETAILS FOR THIS AU.. HONESTLY, I WROTE IT IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EPISODE, SO ITS PRETTY SCATTERED AND JUST BRAINDUMP BULLSHIT WHICH I AM CLEANING UP.

ZOMBIE P1 DRABBLES BELOW. THIS IS ALL I HAVE TO SHARE FOR NOW BUT I AM CONSTANTLY SPECULATING AND WOULD LOVE TO RECEIVE ASKS ON THIS.

ZOMBIE P1 IS A JAUNDICE AND ORAL FIXATION VICTIM </3 HE DOESNT HAVE MUCH CONTROL OVER THE RIGHT HALF OF HIS FACE, LEAVING HIM TO DROOL AND OFTEN SLUR HIS SPEECH. HE DOESN'T HAVE MUCH FEELING THERE BECAUSE OF SCARRING BUT PRIMARILY BECAUSE OF A LORE RELAVENT SUPERNATURAL WOUND I WILL TALK ABOUT EVENTUALLY.

P1 IS SCHIZOAFFECTIVE HERE AND CATATONIC AS A RESULT. HE ALSO HAS PRETTY MODERATE LONG TERM MEMORY LOSS AND MILD SHORT TERM AS A RESULT OF BRAIN DAMAGE. HE HAS INTENSE HOT FLASHES AND EPISODES WITH VISION LOSS.

TECHNICALLY P3 IS ALSO HERE AS HIS BOYFRIEND..IVE NEVER PLAYED POSTAL 3 BUT I LIKE HIS DESIGN AND I THINK THE BADGER THING IS FUNNY. I COME TO FIND OUT POSTAL 3 HAS ZOMBIES ALSO. MAYBE THAT WILL COME INTO PLAY. THEY SHARE AN APARTMENT TOGETHER ON THE BASEMENT LEVEL. THEY GRIND COD TOGETHER ITS SUPER GAY AND AWESOME THEY KISS AND SHIT.

THE STORY FOLLOWS LESS OF LEADING UP TO HIS INFECTION AND MORE FOLLOWING MANAGEMENT/RECOVERY. HE IS AWARE, BUT STILL SICK. HE MOSTLY CARES FOR HIMSELF WHILE P3 WORKS BUT HIS BEHAVIOR IS DISORGANIZED AND TASKS OFTEN GO UNFINISHED OR FORGOTTEN.

HE READS AND WRITES TO FILL HIS TIME, SOMETIMES MESSING AROUND IN COLORING BOOKS. HE HAS A FIXATION WITH FLORAL PATTERNS FINDING THEM TO BE STIMULATING. HE REALLY ENJOYS TEXTILES AND SEWED THEM INTO SQUARES TO FEEL WITH HIS HANDS BEFORE HIS HANDS BECAME TO SLOW/SHAKY TO DO DETAIL WORK WITH. HE ALSO SEWED LITTLE FISH STUFFED WITH SCRAPS (FISH ARE A REPEATING MOTIF IN MY STUFF. POSTAL IS NO EXCEPTION.) DONT WORRY, HE GOT A SEWING MACHINE. I WOULD HATE MYSELF IF I COULDNT GIVE HIM A SEWING MACHINE. HE LIKES TO WORK WITH HIS HANDS, GENERALLY.

THE "INFECTION" HE EXPERIENCED WAS NEAR IMMEDIATE. AFTER FACING A TOTAL HEAD INJURY (GETTING. HIS HEAD BLOWN OFF. AND SLOWLY PIECED BACK TOGETHER BY WHATEVER DRIVING SUPERNATURAL FACTOR.) HIS BODY WAS REVIVED. HE HAS NO PULSE, MEANING HIS BODY IS NOT LIVING ON ITS OWN OR EVEN WITH ASSISTANCE.

THIS JUST MEANS THAT WE DID NOT SEE HIM SLOWLY LOSE HIMSELF, BUT SLOWLY LEARN TO MANAGE THESE NEW ASPECTS OF LIFE.

HANDWRITING DIDNT DEGRADE AS ORIGINALLY INTENDED. HE STARTS TO GET A BETTER GRASP RELEARNING IT AFTER AWHILE.

EDIT: I THINK I FORGOT TO MENTION HE IS MOSTLY NONVERBAL

EDIT 2: DUDE1 HAS AN ISSUE WITH CHEWING ON DUDE3 IN HIS SLEEP

#hal's art #postal 1997 #postal #postal 3 #zombie dude tag

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nuturalsuper · 5 hours ago

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sam and dean after they are done with hunting and they get a house somewhere in the countryside. they have a big dog that sam brought home one day and dean just couldnt say no, he loves the dog secretly but doesnt want to admit to that. they sleep in the same bed even though they have a spare bedroom, most days they wake all cuddled up, legs tangled, sticky and sweaty. they exchange a few kisses there, dean brushes sams hair away from his face so he could better see his sleepy face and sam smiles so softly, memories of all the times he almost lost dean running through his head so he hugs him just a little tighter, happy to have him right here next to him. their dog jumps on the bed to make them get up, most times its funny and sweet but sometimes ita annoying and sam has to get up, grumbling about it. he makes them some coffee and goes to take the dog on his morning run, unlike dean, sam didnt want to give up on exercising, he wants to stay in shape - just in case, he says, and dean shivers every time he hears that because if something happened that would require them to hunt again hed have to lock them both up somewhere or move all the way across the world. hes not loosing sammy, not again. by the time sam is back, dean already took a shower and got dressed for work, he helps out in a car repair shop not far from their house and as much as he complains about it, sam knows that dean loves it. sam works from home, if dean was asked to explain what exactly sams job is he probably wouldnt be able to but it has something to do with fact checking articles or something like that. he gets paid well and doesn't really have much stress about it so its a great job. in the evenings they usually make some food, have a few beers, watch a movie until dean starts snoring on the couch. his head somehow ends up on sams lap but hes not complaining. the pictures of the friends and family that they have lost along the way are staring down at them from the walls of their house. their basement is filled with guns and knives that they swore they would get rid of but cant seem to part with. johns journal sits on deans nighstand like a bible and he reads the verses before bed most nights while sam pretends to hate it while also sneaking a few glances at the drawings that he knows by heart by now. sometimes they cry. sometimes they cant get out of bed and sometimes they have such awful nightmares that they have to get up and watch TV until the morning. sometimes they get paranoid, sam mostly, saying how he saw a shadow in the corner of their room, or heard something from the attic, dean goes to check, every time, playing it off as if its not a big deal but secretly his heart is racing and there is a kitchen knife in his hands. sometimes they have sex, and its nothing like the quickies theyd have in gas station bathrooms, or in the back of their car, its not the hair pulling, biting, rough type that they used to have when they were younger and stressed out, its slow, its gentle, its sweet and loving, it doesnt even matter whos on top, they hold eachother afterwords and dean doesnt feel stupid for telling sam straight up that he loves him, and sam doesnt make fun of him, he says it right back. its not easy at all, they pretend to be normal, but their past is right there all the time and they cant get rid of it as it haunts them, it takes time but they do learn to live with it. its a little easier every day, at least theyre together like they were always supposed to be, and they get to experience getting old, something they never expected to have a chance to do

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #wincest #samdean #post canon #ficlet

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pixiedurango · 3 days ago

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Oooh! Could we see a letter from Teia to Lucanis, giving him relationship advice now that he and (any)Rook are together?

I just think that could be funny, because Lucanis would be mortified, but also taking notes 😂.

Here we go again, the Antivan Postal Service delivers its second letter today. Hope you like it and hopefully I was able to make it different enough from the first one to not be redundant. I decided to make this the follow-up letter to the first one posted earlier today, so there is Lucanis' answer mentioned.

If anyone feels inspired to write the missing letter from him to Teia - be my guest and drop it into the letterbox.

Transcript:

Lucanis,

I was delighted to read that you took the chance to invite Rook for a picnic from that food crate I sent along with my last letter. But excuse me, you had that picnic WHERE? On top of the lighthouse? We really need to set up a visit, this sounds unbelievable. And romantic, dare I say. You seem to do good with that blooming connection to our dear Rook. Maybe you discovered that infamous Dellamorte charme, which your Cousin clearly has over-cultivated and in abundance

Speaking of Illario. Maybe Viago IS a miracle worker after all - even though he denies it. But your cousin is doing quite alright, given the circumstances. Of course, he does not work contracts at this point and is stuck with paper work of no greater significance. But at least it keeps him busy and inside the offices in the Diamond’s belly instead of having him mingling at the casino or - even worse - anywhere else in Treviso.

Of course, he complains. And to an extent I do even understand him - it’s boring and repetitive. Then I look back at what he has done to you, to Caterina and to all of us Crows. If it had been me back then, I would not have had it in me to pardon him. Now after some time has passed, and I found enough calm to think about it, I guess I start to understand, why you and Rook decided how you did - and even if I still despise him and his actions, I will defend your decision and to an extend him, too. But he better not try his luck on that too much!

Now back to more pleasant topics: Tell me about Rook and yourself! You know I’m dying of curiosity and if curiosity kills the cat, I’m ready to hear everything - or die. I already told you, that picnic you mentioned was a brilliant idea. And the catering… outstanding!

You two have so much on your shoulders. The whole team has. But especially Rook. Make sure she gets enough sleep, eats well and make her smile a lot!

I know, you are a gift giver - do I have to mention the ‘Dagger Incident’? I’m sure, by now, you have reflected in depth about the significance of communication along your gifts.

And even though Rook may be a lover of a good blade, just like every Crow - you might consider finding something more… delicate. Less job related. If you can’t come up with anything at some point, flowers are fine but get redundant pretty fast. See them as a last resort. Jewelry seems to be a safe bank, but I recommend not pulling out the real big ones too soon. A pretty brooch, or a hair pin. This kind of stuff. And wait with the gold and diamonds. Silver and colorful gemstones are pretty, too. And less… let me call it pompous. I know you could literally buy the whole world for her, and sometimes you might feel you want to actually do it. Just. Don’t. We both know her well enough that this is not what she wants or needs. Lucanis, dear, I know you are always doing your best and given the person I know you are, do never worry. Rook knows what she wants, and she has a pretty good taste, too. Let me know if you need anything, Treviso is just an eluvian away. Always yours -Teia

#teia cantori #lucanis dellamorte #illario dellamorte #dragon age the veilguard #Antivan Postal Service #Letters for the Crows #Letters from the Crows #datv #dav

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gingerteafairy · 2 days ago

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switch button (todd haynes x reader)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ If there was one thing Todd Haynes wasn't, it was cute. Not even close.

tags n warnings: smut/mdni, dirty talk, love bites and kisses. word count: +700. masterlist

Once again, you were tangled up with Todd, kissing your amazing boyfriend in the warmth of his bed. The two of you had always loved being close like this—comfortable, intimate, perfect. But today, something felt different. More intense.

Your leg was hooked around his waist, pulling him in as if you couldn’t bear to let go. His hands, warm and possessive, had slipped beneath your shirt, fingertips pressing into your hips, leaving faint imprints against your skin. He groaned into your lips, a low, needy sound, tugging you closer with every passing second.

It was no secret that your relationship was intimate—maybe even too much so—shocking everyone around you. But what no one knew was the most intriguing part: you and Todd never had sex.

Which was at least weird considering the humongous amount of times you kissed standing up, on the couch, bed, hands touching the warmest places, but nothing more. You had been dating for a month, however, anytime things got a little warmer down there, Todd stopped, mumbling that it was time to watch a movie or do something else.

But not today, because he seemed so desperate to devour your lips that you even forgot to ask why he always stopped.

Come on, Todd Haynes was so cute, it didn't even seem like he had dirty thoughts under those curls. He was always a gentleman, adoring you. The poor boy blushed violently when you kissed his cheek in the hallways at college. You’d die to find out if Todd was as cute in bed as he was in life.

“Shit, you’re so hot,” he muttered, his hands reaching into your shorts to pull you closer to his visible erection.

“Todd, I want you so bad,” you mewled, hearing him moaning softly into your mouth, pressing your fingers even deeper into your ass. "It's not even funny."

“Hmmm, really?” He whispered, moving your hips to grind on his covered cock, chuckling at your surprised reactions. “You’re driving me insane, you know that?”

“Why don’t you show me?” You hurried, unable to handle the excitement building up in your body any longer.

“With pleasure,” He smiled, taking one last bite at your lower lip.

Todd changed position with impressive ease for someone so cute, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

“Perfect,” he whispered, attacking your neck, not giving you time to consider whether that was really your boyfriend or some succubus possessing his body.

The thing was, Todd was dying to do God knows what to you every time you kissed his rosy lips, knowing that you were wet and needy beneath him. Jerking off after kissing sessions was a common thing, especially thinking about pinning your wrists or your legs impossibly spread wide open for him.

If there was one thing Todd Haynes wasn’t when his cock was aching hard on its confinements, it was cute. And his game-changer was precisely you asking for it.

“God, you’re so needy.” he murmured, sucking on the pressure point, squeezing your wrists slightly tighter. “You have no idea of the effect you have on me."

“Wh… What do I do?” you stuttered, grunting when he sucked harder, scraping his teeth over the spot.

“What you—Do you even know how hard it’s to hold back?” He gasped, pulling away to look at your face as his hands roamed your curves, grabbing the most sensitive places. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, wearing those tiny shorts, moaning when i kiss you. Fuck, I get hard every time you bite my lip with that face. I wonder if it’s to tease me.”

“Sorry, it's just…i want you so much, baby…” You cooed, knitting your eyebrows together on your face, feeling yourself heating up with each word your boyfriend said. "Can't stop thinking about your cock. Just wanted to feel you."

“You're so—fucking cute begging like this,” He chuckled softly, coming close to your lips with his eyes almost closing without leaving yours. “I like that. Almost like you want me to fuck you hard till you forget your name, doll.”

“I—i want it.” you shivered, pulling his face with clear eager. “I want it all, please… just—just fuck me okay, i can't take it anymore.”

“As you wish, baby,” he muttered, already taking off—ripping—your clothes, hovering your legs over his shoulders. If there was one thing Todd Haynes wasn't, it was cute. Not even close. And you learned that the best way. Well, with a little back pain the other day. He knew some really weird positions.

#todd haynes x y/n #todd haynes x you #todd haynes x reader #todd haynes #x reader #imagine #reader insert #fanfic #evan peters #evan peters fandom #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x you #kick ass

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fwol-jintu · 8 hours ago

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Concept of transformers in svsss would be so funny

Like imagine shen yuan getting dragged into pidw but instead his system's like "aight, heres your stuff"

As in like, maybe his tablet or something?

But instead that dumbass does not give his tablet and instead gives him

*inhales*

[Ultimate Skill: Foreign Call]

[Due to your title, "Misplaced", you are now able to weaponize your surroundings.]

[Number of slots: 3]

"System, what the actual fuck."

And then like moments later he finds it incredibly cool.

Also its an evil system, not in the sense that its mean to shen yuan but in the sense that it wants pidw to go downhill and fast

And whats the easiest way to do that? Bring in pidw's biggest hater and give him the ability to make metal monsters cuz hell yeah

But then it backfires cuz sy is more interested in the fauna and flora rather than uhhhh killing the world

System: arent you suppose to be pidw's biggest hater?

Sy: but like, look, magical boar :D

System:

System: you know what, yeah sure.

anywayssss

__________________________

Shen Yuan tipped his hat down, trying to find an exit out this forest.

He could just tell Celadon to transform and fight, but- well. Trees. He is NOT going to be a deforester and potentially kill a lot endangered beasts, thanks!

「"Operator, they're locking in on us!"」 Celadon informed with much worry in his rough mechanical voice as he carried Shen Yuan out of there.

At the news, Shen Yuan snapped his head back to look and- holy fuck holy fuck why are those damn people still chasing after them?!

"Celadon what the fuck did you do for them to chase you like this?!!!"

He cursed loudly, panicking and trying to get them out of this situation. For context, they were being chased down by cultivators.

「"How would i know?! I was just trying to get a snack..!"」 Celadon weaved through the forest, movements swift and agile as he swung from tree to tree.

"Mistake number one! Don't try to buy food when you look like a damn demon, you punk~!"

[ The system thinks you both are stupid ]

They were in for a damn long of a run.

________________________

sy: bro wtf did u do!!!!

C: i just wanted to buy food????

System: bruhh.... these fuckin' idiots...

Also, Celadon is a giant mechanical spider cuz... yeah.

And! For shen yuan! A very badass-

Short hair

Martial artist lookin ahh clothes, aka pants instead of flowy gown cuz yes

backstory where he's an exile cuz his hometown prophecized that he'd bring ruin to the world (cant argue with that considering what system's goal is)

And uh yeah

yay!!

Celadon, drinking alchohol: yeaahahahaha! That hits the spot!

Sy:

Sy: can robots get drunk, or even taste?

Celadon:

Celadon: nah, not really, im just drinking for the sake of it lol (Downs another cup)

sy, blinking, and then raging: you punk~!!! You're just wasting my money at this point!! (Cries in a corner)

system: this is peak entertainment

Also no i dont know much about transformers, i just think theyre cool asf

#svsss #shen yuan #Evil system #Thats not a tag?#scumbag self saving system #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #scumbag system #transformers au #Except its like #More like concept of transformers au #Destruction system au

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all-pacas · 2 days ago

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Okay but now i desperately want to know your non canon life story for chase pre canon

i have tricked you into doing exactly what i hoped -- a lot of this stuff works its way into fanfics i write lmao, so i guess spot the easter eggs? here's a couple:

when he was 4, maybe a bit older or younger, he fell out the upstairs window. that's what he tells people. it's mostly the truth. the whole truth: he was locked in his father's study, as ever. he needed to pee, or he was hungry, or something (he probably doesn't even really remember). so he tried to escape. he pushed a chair to the window and climbed onto the verandah roof. and then slipped and fell onto the ground below. and lay there screaming for a while before his mother, drunk, found him. he broke a number of bones, cut up his face, was rushed to his father's hospital. the nurses all doted on him, he was being so brave after such a scary accident! his father made it very clear that robbie was not to mention he was locked in the study, that he was not to mention his mother's state, that he did it to himself because he was disobedient and getting into mischief and that was all. he considers this an embarrassing and vaguely shameful memory. because it's the only time he ever tried to escape the study. because he failed. because he, naturally, did just as he was told.

his mother took him on a bunch of special outings and trips to the beach and amusement parks and zoos for weeks after. she stopped drinking for a while, too. when she was sober, she was very loving (very much overcompensating) and made it out like they were the best of friends. when she drank she was angry and sometimes violent, both with rowan and her son. chase, as a kid, sometimes tried to get rowan to intercede, to tell her to stop, to do something about it. no one did. it became easier to hate his father than his mother. mum couldn't help it, she was drunk. dad knew and just didn't care.

he went to a super posh private all-boy's catholic school. robbie was the "poor kid" in class: sure, his family was doctor rich, but his best friends's dads were politicians and land barons and oil/gold mine types. school was fairly unremarkable. he had friends, went to a lot of rich kid parties on private yachts, played soccer and AFL and never invited any of his friends over to his place.

first girlfriend was named melina ryan. she went to a sister school (literally) to his, an all-girl's catholic school. she was... fine. he was never that infatuated with her, but she was pretty and wanted to date him and he was 15 and very interested in sex lol. it lasted about a year, mostly due to inertia. she absolutely had an 80s perm and feathery bangs.

he also had a friend called dickie campbell, one of his super rich classmates. they'd skip school together. dickie's homelife was also really bad, and while they never talked about it they kind of... looked at one another and knew, you know? they'd fool around, experiment, never talked about it. dickie was probably gay and deeply closeted and working through some stuff; chase just wanted the attention/validation. they had a huge falling out at 16 and never spoke again.

a third friend: [some terrible nickname], the like. ur-typical 80s jock bully type. he and chase actually got along fine; this friend is yet another rich kid with daddy issues and would throw wild parties on his parent's dime, borrow their yacht, ridiculous shit like that. when chase's parents seperated and his sister was born and he started to see the writing on the parentification wall, he had something of a breakdown and "ran away" from home (his parents didn't care), stayed in this kid's guesthouse for a few weeks. his friend was like, you're too uptight, you need to relax, and they had their own little drug and hookers and alcohol bender... at age 14-15. this friend is like. now a sitting member of parliment or something. chase finds this very funny but can't explain why to anyone without getting into way too much ("no, it's just funny because i once saw him do a line of coke off a stripper's stomach when we were 14 lol"). by some miracle chase didn't develop a massive drug problem. the miracle being that party drugs just made him think of his mother and filled him with so much misery and guilt he couldn't commit to enjoying them.

when his sister (danielle) was born, chase was a very good parent to her. he got so much praise for it. he'd pick her up from daycare and pre-school, he took her out, they'd go grocery shopping together. everyone thought he was just the sweetest big brother; his sister absolutely worshipped him. he was a hair away from a total mental breakdown. he begged his father to sue for custody or take her in or something, and rowan totally ignored him of course. and chase was putting his mother in the shower and doing laundry and managing the household budget (they were living off a very small stipend from rowan) and just on the verge of total collapse.

his relationship with his sister sucks, because she feels (justifiably) abandoned and betrayed by him leaving and moving across the world when, to her, chase was her only real parental figure, but he just. he couldn't do it any longer. and then danielle became an addict and he hated her for it, and whenever they talk they revert to old patterns - he bosses her around and acts like her parent, they're both miserable, they do love one another but they just cannot. talk. they really do better at low contact.

he truly believed he and mrs. groundkeeper's wife were... maybe not in love, but had a real connection, were both lonely, bonded. she was in her 40s, he was 17. when their affair was exposed, she said he seduced her and cried and apologized and just blatantly abandoned him. nowadays chase is aware it was fucked up but... in a way where he doesn't really want to think about it. he doesn't think it was power imbalance/grooming/etc. or, he doesn't want to think about it that way.

he has not had a lot of Relationships in his life. short flings, for sure. one night stands, easy. he absolutely had a FWB arrangement in college that worked perfectly and satisfyingly for both parties with no feelings involved. he tends to average 4 dates with someone before getting bored and politely breaking up. cameron was 100% his first real Serious Relationship. and possibly his last, r i p

#malpractice posting #robert chase #headcanons all the way down

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 day ago

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ME TRYNA GIVE YOUR FIC ALL THE HEARTS IN THE FUCKING WORLD

WHAT THE FUCK ALLLIEEEE WHAT THE FUCK

Unfortunately I have to requote your entire fic back to you I'm so sorry

“Quit squirming or I’m going to turn this constellation into a penis,” you griped, lifting your machine from Sirius’ leg.

HOW COULD YOU START YOUR FIC LIKE THIS????? HOW COULD YOU BE SO FUNNY AND WITTY AND ENDEARING AND WELL-WRITTEN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚

“Sadist,” he hissed.

🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 SO WHAT????

“Said the masochist that paid me to stab him a million times.”

EAT HIM UP. ALLIE ARE YOU CONVERTING ME INTO A SIRIUS GIRLIE????? I FEAR I FEAR HIM COS GART OLDMAN WAS SO SCARY TO ME IN THE FILMS I FEAR I FEAR I FEAR THE CHILD IN ME CAN SEE HIM IN MY MINDS EYES BUT THE WOMAN IN ME IS LIKE 🤪 I LIKE SCARY MEN NOW THO?????? AHHAHAHAHAAHNSIDDNNCJDKKD

He glanced down at you. “Are you flirting with me?”

🗣️AND🗣️WHAT🗣️IF🗣️I🗣️AM🗣️ 👏AND👏WHAT👏IF👏I👏AM👏 PUNK ASS LOSER WHAT THEN

Just then, the bell on the front door or you shop chimed. A tall man with sandy hair, dressed in jeans and thick sweater stood in the foyer, looking around at the art and plants strewn about. Given your profession, you immediately noticed his lack of tattoos, and the scars marring his hands and neck, one even stretching from his sharp jaw towards his nose.

Das my ride yall

“Moony!” Sirius called, jerking his leg and nearly inking himself.

YOU MEAN MY HUSBAND 🤬🤬 GET IT RIGHT BLACK ITS FIRST NAME MY LAST NAME HUSBAND. YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING ALSO STOP FUCKING MOVING YOU LARVA YOU WORM

Then, his eyes flicked to you, a deep brown and sallow with exhaustion, but his beauty struck you like a blow, the lines of his face coalescing in a way that would make the great painters weep.

[VIOLENTLY SHAKING] I NEED TO WRAP HIM LIKE A BURRITO

Based on the countless stories Sirius had told you in the hours spent on your table, you surmised that this was Remus Lupin, his level-headed, long-suffering schoolmate.

Wrong. That's my chair. My comfy beefy bed. My warm biteable pillow. You fool. You imbecile. You misguided spirit

You sighed and set your machine aside. Clearly, you were taking a break.

😭😭😭😭😭😭🤚 IM CRYING YOU WRITE SO BEAUTIFULLY SO WELL SO AMAZING SO VIVID IM BITING YOUR BRAIN NOM NOM NOM

“Remus, this is y/n, the architect of my beauty,” Sirius said, gesturing grandly in your direction.

Sigh. Fine. Smash. Give me Sirius right now. I'm gonna eat him up

HO IS YOU A POET WHY YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT

“Well, then there’s no where to go but up,” he said with a cheeky wink, and your heart damn near leaped out of your mouth.

🤞 hoping it's up

“Moony wants to know if you can tattoo over scars,” Sirius said, earning a glare from Remus.

With my thighs????? I thought you'd never ask

“Really. I’ve tattooed over dozens of scars, cover-ups, or decorations. I’d love to work with you.” Merlin, did you just say that out loud? You needed to get it together; you were a professional.

WRONG YOU SHOULD HAVE JUMPED HIS BONES THE MOMENT YOW SAW HIM. WEAK PIECE OF SHIT 👎👎👎👎🍅🍅🍅🍅

“AHH YOU WITCH!” Sirius wailed.

🤨 says the witch?

“Bloody hell, I knew you two would get along. You’ve got twin scowls,” Sirius chuckled, leaning back against the table with his hands behind his head.

The fact you didn't do this sooner is criminal

“You’re really good,” he murmured, close enough that you could smell the wool of his sweater, the lingering notes of cinnamon and tea from his cologne. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, Rem,”

❓❓❓❓❓ REM YOU JUST MET AND YOURE CALLING HIM REMMMMMMM SKSKSKKSKJSKSJSJSJSBSHSBSBSISKKSSK 🫡🫡🫡🫡 RIZZLER I FEAR

He was like an anxious thundercloud, tense and unsteady, and it made your chest tight with empathy.

AN ANXIOUS THUNDERCLOUD IS CRAZY WHAT RHE FUCK

He sat down, coiled in on himself despite his long limbs. Like he was afraid to take up too much space.

HES SO

“It's just—” he sighed, lifting his arm. He started to roll up his shirt sleeve, dexterous fingers folding the fabric neatly over itself, revealing inch after inch of his forearm. Lightly tanned and taut with lean muscle, veins tangling with the map of scars littering his skin.

Lick. ((I am nothing but a dog))

You tried to stay neutral, but you were practically salivating. He was so beautiful.

YOU AND ME BOTH SISTER IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF ME ENCLOSURE 👹👹👹👹🤤🤤🤤🤤🫠🫠🫠🫠

Remus’ profile floated into your minds eye, sorrowful and striking, and your pen started to move of it’s own accord. His expression came to life under your hand, with long lashes and a crooked nose and that jagged scar.

🫵I🫵KNOW🫵WHAT🫵YOU🫵ARE🫵SIMMMPPPPP🫵

“Whatever you say, love,” he murmured, getting comfortable. Entirely oblivious to the way the petname made your thoughts turn to static.

“No wonder Sirius like this so much,” he said, tracing your face with his eyes. “Watching you work is fascinating.”

Sirius is also in love with me 😞 it's hard being THAT gworl 😣

“That does sound like Sirius,” he chuckled. “I like your focused face much more than that scowl.”

Sit on it. HUH WHO SAID THAT (me)

“Charming? Sweet? Clever?” You asked, glancing up at him. “Sirius talks about you like you hung the moon.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫SHE GETS ME YOU TELL HIM GIRLIE RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

You shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me if you felt comfortable. I’m not here to pry, just help.”

We love an emotionally intelligent girlie

Before leaving, he placed another appointment on your books for the following week, this time asking for a tree along the back of his calf, the roots spreading across the scaring he had there.

I dont remember what I wanted to say but I bet it was something inappropriate 🫦

Your sketchbook was filling with sketches of him, like you mind needed a place to spill your overflowing thoughts of him. With him, it was like every sound was heightened, every movement sharper, the very colors in the room more vibrant. Overwhelming in the best way.

🫵 SIMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPP

He huffed a laugh, seeming a bit shy himself. “Yes ma’am.” In a fluid motion, he hooked his fingers under his sweater and tugged it overhead. His chest was tanned and lined with lean muscle, the kind built outdoors, not in the gym. The scaring was worse, deeper gauges in softer flesh, but you barely registered it, too busy staring at the half-healed red slash across his ribs.

😰😰😰😰😰😨😨😨😨😳😳😳😳😃😃😃🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵 SLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

You were already starting to gather that Remus was…different. And you'd only met one other person with scars that matched his, and they also always cancelled around the full moon.

We got blue's clues up in here

Remus seemed to pick up on your dilemma and slowly spread his knees, allowing you to step between them. The heat of his body was intense, drawing you closer, but you swallowed your impulse, trying to focus instead on the moon and constellations you were mapping out.

🫵 WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

“You smell nice,” he hummed, close enough that you felt his breath tickle the hair around your ear.

Eat me then 🙄

“Y’know, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I—I missed you the last two weeks.” Remus’ voice was low, just above a whisper, resonant like a drum in his chest. You wanted to wrap it around you like a blanket.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHOULDNT SAY THIS YOU BUFFOON YOU ABSOLUTE CANDLESTICK YOU NINNYHAMER YOU JOBBERNOWL

“Brilliant. I love them, and they’re very effective.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you and Remus rolled your eyes.

BROTHER EUGH WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEYRE VERY EFFECTIVE

James lifted his shirt, revealing a peak of his washboard abs, framed by a pair of sprawling antlers across his hip bones. You leaned a bit closer, checking for any faded spots or ink spreading.

FUCKING hell

Was he…jealous?

HE BETTER FUCKING BE

“Would you ever get a tattoo like that?” You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes.

LICKING HIM SO MUCH

You met his eyes. “You should give me a little more credit, Moony.”

She really said

And I respect her for it. She a bsddie

“It's risky, y’know, to flirt with your tattoo artist,” you murmured, grazing your fingers over the mostly healed goldenrod tattoo. “You've got a permanent reminder of me.”

She's so smart I love her I will shove my tongue down her throat. So hot. She is me. Holy shit am I a narcissist

He smirked, his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Well, the thing about werewolves…” he was so close, warm breath fanning across your lips. “We're a possessive sort, territorial. So having your mark on my skin…” he sighed, eyes dark with desire. “I'm finding it hard to hold myself back.”

WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT IS STOPPING YOU COS IT AINT FUCKING ME

Remus surged forward, lips colliding in a heady, toe-curling kiss. You immediately gave into him, his tongue caressing the seam of your mouth, dipping past your lips to taste you, claim you.

“Be gentle with me,” he grated, kissing along your cheek, down towards your throat. He craned your head back, grazing his teeth along your pulse, and you shivered. “I’m trying to savor this, not devour you.”

I CAN BE GENTLE BUT DONT GET IT TWISTED IVE BEEN TRYNA DEVOUR YOU THE MOMENT YOU WALKED IN FUCKER 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

“Patience, dove,” he chastised affectionately, lifting his head. “Just be good for me, yeah? You’ll get what you want.”

Your brain emptied. Seeing this dominant side of Remus had you folding like origami. You nodded, letting him drag you in for another languid, bone-melting kiss.

✍️ FOLDED✍️LIKE✍️ORIGAMI✍️ IM CRYINGGGGGGG WHAT THE FUCKKKK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM GOING TO CREAM MY PANTS ON HOW GOOD IT IS

“Tell me if you want me stop,” he said, shifting to kiss around your navel.

THE DAY I TELL YOU TO STOP THEY NEED TO PUT ME DOWN

“Don't stop. Please don't stop,” you pleaded, and he smiled against your hip before sucking the skin between his teeth, biting at your flesh just hard enough you make you keen.

🫠😃🤓🫨🤪😣😫👹 IM FINE THIS IS FINE. SHE PASSED THE TEST THAT IS THE ONLY CORRECT RESPONSE

The table shifted, rocking back a bit, and you looked past Remus' hair tangled in your fingers to his body. He was rocking his hips against the edge of the table, so turned on by the act of eating you out that he needed some relief.

IM GONNA GET PREGNANT IF YOU DONT STOP

“Rem, baby,” you whined, the sight dragging you that much closer to release. He glanced up at you, his eyes glazed and pussydrunk, and he whimpered against you.

I'm legally obligated to say I feel so bad for Britney I nearly use this gif but I don't like using people I don't kin as meme reactions and I love women so #freebritney

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, withdrawing his fingers to lap directly from you, savoring every drop of his efforts. “That's it, love. Relax f’me.” He brought you back to earth with his tongue, long, languid licks and kisses around your trembling center, across your inner thigh slung over his shoulder.

Little did he know I would give him 10000000000 babies. Fucking hell I need a blunt (don't smoke)

He made his way up your body, catching your words in a messy, top-lip kiss. “Got your mark all over me now, dove,” he purred, pecking your cheek with a cheeky grin.

HES INSANE ACTUALLY OK THX

“I’m, ah, a bit embarrassed to say that I did.” He straightened with a sheepish smile, revealing the dark spot leaking through his jeans.

YOU DONT EVEN KNOW YOU DONT EVEN KNOW YOU DONT EVEN KNOW

I WANT HIM SO BAD I WANT HIM SO BAD

HI ALLIE CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS I THINK ABSOLUTELY DESERVED BECAUSE YOUR WORK IS INCREDIBLE YOU ATE THAT UP SLAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I............ I have never submitted a request, unless I was explicitly asked by the writer because ksjdjdjjjsjsj ME ASKING FOR SOMETHING?????? SNSJSJSJ ANYWAY I was like it should be fine because it's for your celebration SOOO hear me out. Remus Lupin ? IM GOING THRU A REMUS THING ? 1000 scars/1000 glances???? WHICHEVER IS FINE YOURE GONNA EAT WITH THAT

WEE OK BYE I LOVE YOU BYE

xxx

ilysm and I hope this only deepens your Remus fixation 🫶🏻 thank you so much for all of your love and support, I genuinely get excited when I see you pop up in my feed or notifs. my favorite hanni 🤍

1000 inked scars | R.L.

feat. Remus Lupin x tattooartist!reader

cw: mdni 18+, possessive!Remus, marking kink, oral (fem receiving), tattoo needles and tattooing, mentions of injury and scars, probably inaccurate representation of tattooing in the 70's, no war

1000 things prompt list (closes feb 1!) | masterlist

“Quit squirming or I’m going to turn this constellation into a penis,” you griped, lifting your machine from Sirius’ leg.

“Maybe if you didn’t handle that gun like a cudgel—”

You slapped his fresh tattoo and he yelped. “Pull yourself together, Black. You’re almost done.”

He groaned, slumping back onto the table with his arms slung over his head. “Sadist,” he hissed.

You resumed your tattooing, packing black ink to the map of stars. “Said the masochist that paid me to stab him a million times.”

He glanced down at you. “Are you flirting with me?”

You glared up at him.

“Moony!” Sirius called, jerking his leg and nearly inking himself.

“Sirius,” you bit, but he was already out of the chair.

“What’s—uh, what’s up, Pads?” the stranger, Moony?, said, glancing down at Sirius’ rolled up pant leg and the nearly finished tattoo on his calf. Then, his eyes flicked to you, a deep brown and sallow with exhaustion, but his beauty struck you like a blow, the lines of his face coalescing in a way that would make the great painters weep.

Based on the countless stories Sirius had told you in the hours spent on your table, you surmised that this was Remus Lupin, his level-headed, long-suffering schoolmate.

“I wanted you to meet my friend!” Sirius grabbed his by the elbow and dragged him towards your station.

You sighed and set your machine aside. Clearly, you were taking a break.

“Remus, this is y/n, the architect of my beauty,” Sirius said, gesturing grandly in your direction.

You slid off one of your gloves and extended it to Remus. “Pleasure. I’ve heard loads about you.”

“Oh?” Remus asked, shaking your hand with a light touch, his skin warm and a bit rough. “Terrible things, I wager?”

“The worst,” you chuckled, and the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half-smile.

“Well, then there’s no where to go but up,” he said with a cheeky wink, and your heart damn near leaped out of your mouth.

“I asked Moony to come hang out for the last bit of the tattoo so he could pick your brain,” Sirius said, hopping back up onto the table.

“Sirius—”

“Pick my brain about what?” You asked, pulling up a chair for Remus and sitting back onto your stool, putting on a fresh pair of gloves.

“I, uh—”

“Moony wants to know if you can tattoo over scars,” Sirius said, earning a glare from Remus.

“Absolutely!” you chirped, hoping to dispel Remus’ clear discomfort. “Just takes a few extra passes, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Remus gave you a small, grateful smile. “Really?”

“See, Moons? I told you!” Sirius propped his leg back up, and you fired up the machine. “And it doesn’t even hurt.”

You lowered the machine back to his leg, taking a few quick warm up strokes.

“AHH YOU WITCH!” Sirius wailed. You and Remus both jumped at his shouting, but he quickly dissolved into laughter. “Bloody hell, I knew you two would get along. You’ve got twin scowls,” Sirius chuckled, leaning back against the table with his hands behind his head.

You glanced at Remus, and he looked back at you. A flicker of connection flared between you, and heat rose in your cheeks. Quickly, you looked away, turning your attention back to Sirius’ tattoo.

“So, what are you thinking you want to get, Rem?” Sirius asked after a few moments of quiet, the buzzing of the machine filling the air.

Remus shrugged. “Hadn’t really thought about it. Just wanted to do…something.”

“Well, if you want, we can try and cover any up. But I find that people really get more out of going the decorative route,” you supplied, looking at Remus while you picked up more ink. “I can hand draw a few designs that flow with the scar, turn it into an art piece itself.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, contemplative, and Sirius gave you a knowing smile. “I think I might like that, yeah,” Remus said, his voice soft, almost awestruck. Like he’d never ever considered the possibility before.

As a tattoo artist, you were intimately aware of how much a person’s skin could impact their well being, scars in particular weighed heavily on many people’s spirit. Remus, it seemed, was no exception.

Sirius guided the conversation in another direction, giving Remus a chance to process the implications of what you offered, and you finished the tattoo half-an-hour later. While you were wiping it down, Remus hovered over you, looking down at the piece.

“You’re really good,” he murmured, close enough that you could smell the wool of his sweater, the lingering notes of cinnamon and tea from his cologne. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, Rem,” you said, smiling up at him, and he smiled back, a flush creeping up his neck before he hurriedly stepped away.

You patched up Sirius and sent the boys on their way, an appointment for Remus on the books for the following week. All he’d given you to work with was placement, his forearm, and that he wanted something natural, like a plant.

Having no more appointments for the evening, you folded yourself into your studio couch with your sketchbook. You sketched a few things, lavender and roses and chamomile, but your fingers itched to draw something else. Remus’ profile floated into your minds eye, sorrowful and striking, and your pen started to move of it’s own accord. His expression came to life under your hand, with long lashes and a crooked nose and that jagged scar.

You clapped your sketchbook shut, sitting back with a sigh.

Next week couldn’t come quickly enough.

You paced around your shop, pouring over your sketch for Remus. You wanted it to be perfect for him, lest you scare him off a tattooing forever.

The door chimes, startling you out of your concentration, and Remus strode in, carrying a tray of drinks and a paper bag

“Morning!” You chirped, hugging your sketchbook to your chest.

“Morning,” he said, passing you one of the cups. “I asked Sirius what you liked, so if it's awful, blame him.”

Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach. It wasn't unusual for clients to bring you coffee and food, but with Remus it felt…different.

“Oh! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, Remus,” you said, taking a sip. It was your favorite drink, and it's familiar warmth settled some of your nerves.

He gave you a small smile, but you could tell he was nervous. He set the bag on your desk. “I also brought some pastries. Sirius mentioned you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate.” You beamed. “Come on in, we can sit over here and go over the design.”

Remus nodded, shirking his coat and following you over to the couch. He was like an anxious thundercloud, tense and unsteady, and it made your chest tight with empathy.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, patting the spot beside you.

He sat down, coiled in on himself despite his long limbs. Like he was afraid to take up too much space. “Ah, fine,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. Earl gray, from the smell of it.

You arched a brow. “It's okay to be nervous, Rem,” you said. “But it's just us, and nothing is set in ink. If you change your mind, it's totally fine.”

He watched your face, gauging your reaction. You tried to stay neutral, but you were practically salivating. He was so beautiful.

“Are they too bad?” He asked, his voice rough with tension.

You met his brown eyes. “Not at all.” You pulled out your sketchbook, flipping to the page you had ear marked. “And it's perfect for what I sketched up.”

He managed a half-smile, some of the clouds disappearing from his aura, and accepted the sketchbook when you handed it to him. His eyes widened.

“Goldenrod,” you said, shifting closer to look at the sketch over his shoulder. “Used to treat pain.”

Remus traced his finger over the tangle of stems, the delicate florals. “I take it almost everyday,” he murmured, looking over at you, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn't quite place.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, your gazes lingering on one another.

“I think it's perfect,” he said, and you smiled, genuinely thrilled that he liked it.

“Okay, ready for me to start sketching?” You asked, and he nodded. You led him over to your station, already set up and waiting for him, and he hoped up onto the chair,, his long limbs dangling near to the floor. To break the quiet, you put on a muggle record, and Remus seemed to relax a bit, sipping on his tea and watching you putter around through dark lashes.

When you settled onto your stool, ink pen in hand, anxiety bloomed in your stomach. Remus was about to watch you draw on him. You’d drawn on hundreds of clients, but like everything else, with Remus it felt…different.

“It might tickle,” you warned, resting his arm where you wanted it, your fingertips tingling from the contact. “And try to stay very still.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he murmured, getting comfortable. Entirely oblivious to the way the petname made your thoughts turn to static.

You placed your sketchbook just beside his arm and made the first line, a quick stem arching alongside a scar stretching from wrist to elbow. Slowly, line after line, the sketch started to come together, flowing with the natural shape of his forearm and it’s scars. You got lost in the act, sinking into the labor of creating.

It wasn’t until Remus made a soft, approving hum in his throat that you peaked up him, breaking your focus. His eyes were almost sleepy, heavy-lidded and soft and the corners, a smile tugging at his lips.

“No wonder Sirius like this so much,” he said, tracing your face with his eyes. “Watching you work is fascinating.”

Heat roared to your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t—he seems more interested in teasing me than letting me work.”

“That does sound like Sirius,” he chuckled. “I like your focused face much more than that scowl.”

Merlin, what was happening to you? You felt like you could melt into your chair like a pile of pudding. Was he flirting with you? Or does he always talk like a romance book hero?

“How long have you guys known each other?” You asked, changing the subject and ducking back down to your work to hide your expression.

“Decade at least,” Remus said. “We met our first year at Hogwarts. Never thought I’d befriend the Sirius Black, but y’know, stranger things have happened.”

“Why’d you think that?”

Remus shrugged, the muttered a soft apology for moving. “Sirius is…Sirius, and I’m…”

“Charming? Sweet? Clever?” You asked, glancing up at him. “Sirius talks about you like you hung the moon.”

A flush creeped up his neck. “He’s dramatic.”

“And brutally honest,” you said, holding his gaze.

“Can I ask you something?” Now it was his turn to change the subject.

“Of course,” you said, capping your pen and setting it aside.

“Why haven’t you, ah, asked?” He glanced down at his scars, and you know what he was implying.

You shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me if you felt comfortable. I’m not here to pry, just help.”

His eyes flitted over your face, swallowing hard, and it seemed he was at a loss for words.

“Ready for ink?” You asked, giving him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster.

He exhaled, turning his wrist to inspect the design. “Ready.”

The rest of the appointment flew by, with Remus sitting like a stone while you tattooed him for close to four hours. You didn’t speak much, letting the music fill the empty air, but it was a comfortable silence, broken by the occasional question or annecdote. Remus seemed to appreciate being able to relax, and you were happy to give him a safe place for little while. Holding space for what this moment meant to him.

When you were finished, Remus stared at the tattoo in the mirror for a long time, and when he turned back for you to wrap it up, you could see tears collecting on his lower lashes.

"Thank you for this," he said, clearing his throat. "You were--this was amazing."

You knew he meant the art, but still, the praise made your heart glow all the same. "Of course, Remus. I'm glad I got to be the one to do this for you."

Before leaving, he placed another appointment on your books for the following week, this time asking for a tree along the back of his calf, the roots spreading across the scaring he had there.

After Remus’ second and third appointment, you noticed a change in him. He seemed more confident, a little more outspoken. He was coming to life before your eyes, and you were starting to see the fuller picture of the boy Sirius loved so much.

Already, you felt so close to him. Connected. And you were starting to miss him those days in between, his appointment becoming the highlight of your week. Your sketchbook was filling with sketches of him, like you mind needed a place to spill your overflowing thoughts of him. With him, it was like every sound was heightened, every movement sharper, the very colors in the room more vibrant. Overwhelming in the best way.

But then he cancelled your fourth appointment, citing illness, and you didn’t see him for two weeks. It wasn’t until he sent and owl requesting an appointment for this coming Friday that you finally felt like you could breathe.

Sorry again for cancelling. Are you free this Friday? Thinking a moon and stars on my chest, with those gorgeous clouds I saw in your sketchbook. Can’t wait, RL.

When Remus walked into your studio, you had to stop yourself from hugging him, you were so excited to see him. He looked tired, a little dimmer than the last time you saw him, but he greeted you with a warm smile and a bag of pastries, and that was all you needed.

You had him sit up on the table, busying yourself with the station in avoidance of the inevitable. He was going to have to take his shirt off. Your heart was palpitating just thinking about it.

“Alright, Rem. Strip for me,” you said, ripping the metaphorical bandaid off.

You gasped. “Rem, what happened?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was in a fight club?” He rubbed the back of his head, averting his eyes from yours.

“No, but you don’t have to tell me anything. Just that you’re alright,” you said, unable to mask the warble of concern in your voice. You were already starting to gather that Remus was…different. And you'd only met one other person with scars that matched his, and they also always cancelled around the full moon.

His eyes softened. “I’m alright, dove. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m the only one that gets to gauge you with weapons,” you huffed, grabbing up your sketching marker.

He barked a laugh, head tipping back on his shoulders. “Fair enough. Only you get to wound me permanently from now on.”

“Glad we reached an understanding.” You propped the sketchbook on the table and leaned in to start sketching. Remus sat up as straight as he could, resulting in your head hovering around his clavicle. But, with his long legs, you couldn’t get close enough.

As you drew, you started to shift closer, drawn in by the work and his proximity, the clean smell of his skin, until you were practically leaning against him.

“You smell nice,” he hummed, close enough that you felt his breath tickle the hair around your ear.

You nearly dropped the marker, but managed to keep your grip steady. “So do you,” you said, unable to come up with something clever.

You looked up at him, lips slightly parted in shock, so close you could brush your nose against his if you moved a hair closer. “You did?” You asked, certain that if pupils could turn into lovehearts, yours would be beaming out of your head like a cartoon.

His hand came up to caress you jaw, tentative and gentle. “Being with you is the best I’ve felt in ages,” he said, tilting your face a little closer to his. “I don’t—”

The bell to your studio rang loudly, and you jumped back from Remus’ hold, nearly tripping over your stool.

“Hey Moony! There’s my favorite artist!” James came plowing through, wrapping you up in a bearhug that squeezed the air from your lungs. “How are you, sweetness?”

“I’m good, Jamie,” you wheezed, and he set you back on your feet.

The boys clasped hands, a quick, almost automatic handshake.

“What are you doing here, Prongs?” Remus asked, trying and failing at not looking irritated.

“Sirius said you were getting some ink today so I figured I’d swing by and have you take a peak at how mine’s healing.”

“James, it’s been like six months. Your antlers healed fine,” you reminded him.

“You did his antlers?” Remus asked, a flicker of something dark passing through his eyes.

You nodded. “Yeah, you didn’t know?”

He shook his head, glancing sidelong at his friend.

“I suppose it might be time for a touch up. Let me see,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest.

James lifted his shirt, revealing a peak of his washboard abs, framed by a pair of sprawling antlers across his hip bones. You leaned a bit closer, checking for any faded spots or ink spreading.

“Looks perfect, Jamie. All good,” you said, sitting back on your stool, mildly impressed with yourself.

“Brilliant. I love them, and they’re very effective.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you and Remus rolled your eyes.

James hung out for another hour, chatting with Remus while you finished the sketch of the tattoo. Your bodies were just as close as before, but with James, you were forced to keep it strictly professional. But the proximity without being allowed to touch was melting your mind, making heat pool in your lower belly. You could feel every breath Remus took, feel the rumble of his voice in your chest, the warmth of his body mingling with yours.

It was maddening, and you could tell Remus was growing more impatient by the second, the muscles around his neck taught with tension, his fingers twitching against his thighs.

At one point, you laughed at one of James’ jokes and swatted at his chest, earning a smile from him. When you glanced back at Remus, his jaw was clenched tight, eyes glaring a hole into the drink in his hands.

Was he…jealous?

He had no right to be, but still, the thought of him being possessive made your heart rate quicken.

Finally, James left, leaving you and Remus alone in the simmering tension you'd built. He watched you closely as you returned to your station, prepping the tattoo machine.

“Would you ever get a tattoo like that?” You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes.

He leaned back on the seat, bracing his hands behind him. Showing off the lean expanse of his torso, the rugged look of him that stood in sharp juxtaposition to his style and personality. “Not sure I could pull it off.”

You scoffed, allowing him to see you peruse his body. “I strongly disagree.”

He chewed on his lower lip, a nervous habit. A flush started to spread across his chest, reaching towards his cheeks. “What would you suggest?” he asked, a sultry edge of his voice.

Unhurried, you stepped back between his legs, letting your fingertips graze along the valleys of his lower abdomen. “Perhaps a snake.” You traced the shape along his skin, his muscles tensing to stop himself from shivering. “Or ferns. Maybe a wolfs jaw—”

“A wolfs jaw?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You met his eyes. “You should give me a little more credit, Moony.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback that you knew his secret. “You knew.”

“I do now. I've only seen scars like yours once before, on another werewolf. And with the nickname, your tattoo choices, being MIA on the full moon…it adds up.”

His eyes searched your face. “And you don't care?”

“Of course not. I care about you, not your affliction.” Your hands still lingered on his hips, like your skin was magnetized together, you couldn't seem to pull them apart.

Remus straightened, his hand coming up to cup your face again. “I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,” he breathed. “You’ve gotten under my skin, dove.”

“It's risky, y’know, to flirt with your tattoo artist,” you murmured, grazing your fingers over the mostly healed goldenrod tattoo. “You've got a permanent reminder of me.”

“Then don't,” you replied, heart in your throat.

Remus surged forward, lips colliding in a heady, toe-curling kiss. You immediately gave into him, his tongue caressing the seam of your mouth, dipping past your lips to taste you, claim you.

Your arms found their way around his neck, fingers digging into his feathery hair and tugging at the roots, drawing a low groan from his chest. He nipped at your lower lip in warning before soothing it with his tongue.

“Do you always keep yourself on such a tight leash?” You asked, breathless as he lapped at your skin, your thighs trembling with desire.

“Patience, dove,” he chastised affectionately, lifting his head. “Just be good for me, yeah? You’ll get what you want.”

Your brain emptied. Seeing this dominant side of Remus had you folding like origami. You nodded, letting him drag you in for another languid, bone-melting kiss.

Remus slid off the table without breaking the kiss, leaning down to scoop you up by the thighs in a fluid motion.

“Rem!” You gasped in surprise when he turned and dropped you onto the table he just vacated.

He leaned over you, one hand reaching down to recline the seat so you were laying back, legs on either side of his hips. His lips found your neck again, kissing and licking his way down while his hands pushed up the hem of your shirt, fingertips cool against your fevered skin.

“Tell me if you want me stop,” he said, shifting to kiss around your navel.

“Don't stop. Please don't stop,” you pleaded, and he smiled against your hip before sucking the skin between his teeth, biting at your flesh just hard enough you make you keen.

“I won't, love. I'm not going anywhere.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans, easing them down over your hips until they fell to the ground in a pile.

Your knees tried to pull together on instinct, the vulnerability making you flush, but his hands gripped your inner thighs, spreading you apart for him. You could tell he was in his element, something having loosened from his usually reserved demeanor. It felt like you were seeing him completely for the first time. No holds barred.

“Don't hide from me, pretty girl,” he cooed, lowering to his knees. “You're gorgeous.” He trailed kisses up your thigh, charting a tingling path until his nose grazed sodden panties, making your pussy flutter and clench. “Fuck, you smell divine,” he muttered before dragging his tongue over the thin fabric.

“Oh, god—Remus,” you moaned when he sucked on the fabric over your clit, pleasure blooming from your center. Your eyes rolled back, fingers tangling in his hair as he flicked your swelling bud with his tongue.

“So responsive,” he praised, pulling your panties aside with his middle finger. “You this sweet for all of your clients?”

You shook your head. ”I've never—fuck, baby.” Your words splintered into a cry as he eased his middle finger inside of you, your dripping entrance accepting him eagerly. He nudged your clit with his nose, making you cry out again.

“Just me?” His voice almost sounded like a purr, deeply pleased by your admission.

You nodded, urging him closer by the roots of his hair, and he practically growled.

He nipped at your thigh, overpowering your meager attempt easily. “Patience, remember?”

You whined. “Remus, please. Just wanna feel you.”

He withdrew his finger, then added a second, pumping you slowly. “I know, baby. I'm right here, I've got you.” His mouth found your clit again, his tongue circling around and around, and you arched off the table, moans spilling from your lips like a song.

Steadily, the fire built, with Remus' devoted attention pouring over you like gasoline. He moaned against you, eyes screwed shut when your pussy clenched around his fingers, teetering on the edge.

“Rem, baby,” you whined, the sight dragging you that much closer to release. He glanced up at you, his eyes glazed and pussydrunk, and he whimpered against you.

His deliberate motions got sloppier, greedier, as he rutted against the table. Losing control of himself, like his entire being was desperate to be inside of you.

With a final curl of his fingers, you toppled over the edge, coming with a cry loud enough to rattle the windows as relief crashed over you, cool water dousing the flames beneath your skin.

“Fuck, Remus,” you panted, slumping back against the table. “That was—”

He made his way up your body, catching your words in a messy, top-lip kiss. “Got your mark all over me now, dove,” he purred, pecking your cheek with a cheeky grin.

“What about…” you trailed off, fingers toying with his belt, unsure of what you were asking for him to fuck you, or mark you. Or both. All you knew was that you wanted him, badly, even more so with that post-orgasm clarity.

“Patience,” he replied, chuckling at the annoyed look you shot him. “Ready to finish up this tattoo?”

“But you didn't get to—”

“I’m, ah, a bit embarrassed to say that I did.” He straightened with a sheepish smile, revealing the dark spot leaking through his jeans.

Holy shit. You'd made him cum in his pants.

You surged up, throwing your arms around his neck and tugging him down in to a ravenous kiss. “Merlin, you're so fucking hot,” you mumbled against his mouth.

He grinned, breaking the kiss to nuzzle into your neck, hiding the flush you could see staining his ears. “Says the girl that made me cum without touching me,” he muttered, almost indignant.

“I’m not sorry,” you chuckled, sighing when he pressed his plush, kiss-swollen lips to your racing pulse.

“It's alright, I'll get even,” he teased, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Is that a promise?”

“Most normal people would interpret it as a threat.” He picked his head up, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, I'm not normal people,” you replied.

“And thank Godric for that.” He kissed you again, all smiles and airy pecks.

Normal was never your style anyway.

#remus lupin fanfic #remus smut #remus lupin smut #im gonna make a conjuring circle now #anyone wanna join?

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