#anyway but also I want to do something that's for fun that isn't so Serious Fight Mode

[tleeaves]

There are two wolves inside me. One wants to embrace a new hobby in dance so I can be active and feel elegant and graceful and strong. This wolf wants to try something new and exciting, finally indulging in something I've always had an interest in.

The other experiences such frustrating emotions on a near daily basis that I want to go back to boxing, which is arguably easier to break into since I've already done it before. This wolf doesn't think of elegance, she just wants to fuck shit up until her body's so overworked and warm it fogs up car windows without having to do anything but sit inside.

Which one do I fucking feed??

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[restinslices]

Lin Kuei Bros: Play Fighting

Smoke so dramatic-. Anyway, don’t ask why I thought of this. The voices were loud

Bi-Han

Play fighting with any of them is bold as fuck but HIM? You don't like your life 

I'm not saying he's gonna straight up assault you but out of all the brothers, he has the highest chance of hitting you hard as shit on accident 

He probably wouldn't even like play fighting that much. He'd prefer sparring cause at least you're working on your skills. Why you just fucking around?

You gotta catch him on the right day. Some days he's busy and some days he's just legit not in the mood. 

“Imma start it off slow. Imma scope the scenery out-”

If you somehow get this man to cooperate, first of all good job. Second of all, y'all do not stop until you give up. 

The type to pin you down and not let go until you admit he won. If you refuse, you're legit not moving. 

This is a big guy so you're not moving him. You give up, he lets go and you manage to crack a smile out of him

We never see him smile in the game but listen bitch, I'm here for the fantasy-

If he's not in the mood, I can see him just saying “no” like you're a puppy or smth. 

You'd go to swing on him again and he'd either grab your hand or give you a look that tells you he's being serious 

Going back to him accidentally hitting you hard as shit, he's used to sparring with two other buff ass men. Imma guess you're not as buff as them, and some of y'all reading this ain't men. Accidents are bound to happen 

You'd think the Grandmaster would have more control but I just think it slips sometimes. He's stupidly prideful and he's used to sparring so sometimes that's where his mind goes. Also once again, he probably sometimes forgets a hit Kuai Liang could handle is a hit that'll take years off your life. 

I would love to say he gets on his knees and apologizes but this is the same man who betrayed his brothers and was like “why y'all tweaking?” so um… 

You're gasping for air and he's “see why I always say no?”

I feel like I'm making him sound abusive but as someone who's play fought with my older siblings, they hit you hard as shit then tell you you're a bitch when a tear slips out. Why the fuck are you hitting me this hard in my chest? You got 5+ years on me-

He's an older brother. He's gonna hit hard. I swear it's in their DNA 

And if he does apologize it's not really verbal. He checks to make sure your limbs are alright then offers to do something else. 

“Are you gonna say you're sorry?” “For?” “For almost breaking my damn lung” “You started this”

You'd expect that the next time you wanna play fight he'd decline cause he doesn't wanna hurt you again. Wrong. 

Remember he's an older brother. THE older brother. Y'all squaring up again. You don't care about your health so fuck it. 

Honestly would be super fun besides the limb you're gonna lose 

Kuai Liang

Would be more cooperative than Bi-Han but still isn't overly excited to play fight 

Bi-Han is the “tell mom. I don't care” older brother. Kuai Liang is the “wait wait wait, I'm sorry. You can hit me back. Calm down. You want some candy?” older brother 

Fully aware he could cause terrible injuries but as time passes on, he relaxes more 

Definitely play fought as a kid but after Tomas started jumping everytime he heard his voice, he thought “maybe I need new hobbies”.

You’ve interrupted his recovery

He actively focuses on holding back and being soft even if you tell him not to

“Hit me harder” “No❤”

Honestly a fun time though. He holds back when it comes to strength but still tussles with you. Also let's you get hits in even when he could easily dodge them. 

If he accidentally injured you frfr, he's checking up on you immediately and says y'all stopping for today. 

“No, I'm ok” “Can you even breathe right now?” “Uhhh… yes😀” “We're done”

For sure feels like an asshole depending on how bad you're hurt. He's not sliding down the wall in pain but he's like “damn, that was a little too hard”. 

“You can hit me back” “No. I've seen Twilight” “What?” “It's gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you. I'm not doing that”. (Now I wanna write you making them watch Twilight. I'm never gonna be rid of this addiction-)

You gotta hit him back so y'all can be even. It's the only way to move on

Y'all are not doing that shit again for at least another week or so. 

“We gotta scrap right here right now” “No”

Does the thing older siblings do when they put their hand on your head so when you swing at them, you're just hitting air. 

It's so infuriating so you gotta stop. 

The next time though, you swear you're gonna win. You will not. 

Tomas Vrbada

The most willing and having the most fun 

Tomas has two older brothers that probably jumped him on several occasions growing up and you're gonna try and convince me he doesn't have aggression to get out?

People would probably expect he's the softest but no. He's the youngest. As the youngest myself I can assure you, we are used to putting our all in these fights cause we gotta use all our strength to defeat these evil mfs we live with. Sometimes it's not enough-

You're not his older sibling so he's not scrapping like his life depends on it but I do think he's hitting somewhat hard 

Not as hard as Bi-Han, not as soft as Kuai Liang 

You feel his hits but it's not knocking the wind outta you 

Super fun cause he's also using the environment. Definitely is grabbing a pillow and starts swinging it at you. Definitely is running around the couch to chase you. Definitely has thrown you but made sure to aim at something soft. He's probably even turned off the lights then threw a folded blanket at you 

“Cheater” “Don't be upset you didn't think of it first”

You're fighting but laughing at the same time. There's no real tension. Just fucking around. 

Probably starts initiating it too

If he does injure you fr, for a split second he'd actually see it as a victory then he'd remember you're not his older brothers and is like “oh shit-”. 

Injuring those two would mean freedom (or a worse jumping. really depends), injuring you is not good. 

He knows how bad those hits can hurt so he makes sure you're alright. He's not watching you as much as Kuai Liang would but he'd still make sure you're not overly sore. 

He doesn't feel as bad as Kuai Liang would cause he kinda knows this shit happens. Kuai Liang kinda got a little bit of guilt cause Tomas gets into a fighting stance when he raises his hand up. Tomas hasn't victimized anyone so he's more chill about these situations 😭

Tells you random ass stories about when he used to play fight with his brothers. 

“One time Bi-Han threw me in the air and Kuai Liang jumped to catch me only to throw me against the wall”

“This reminds me of when Bi-Han swept my feet from under me and Kuai Liang jumped on me”

“What is it called when someone jumps on you elbow first?”

“This one time I woke up to them standing over me. I knew it was a wrap”

“One time Bi-Han slapped the back of my neck so hard, it was red for at least a week”

“One time Kuai Liang-” “Tomas… you need a therapist” “I don't think that's what it is”

Unlike Kuai Liang who makes you wait, he's cool with scrapping days later. 

Actually says “time out” when he wants a break. Also says “time in” fast as fuck though to catch you off guard 

Legit the most fun brother. I don't make the rules (except I do). 

I did not mean to write the least for Kuai Liang but I was really brain empty for him. Y’all should give me ideas, thanks bookie

[theminecraftbee]

okay, okay, superhero au concept of the day: soup group identity shenanigans au. the soup group all rent a house together, they became friends... i don't know when, still figuring this out, but they're all buddies. however, they're all involved in the hero scene in their own way, and everyone's levels of knowing how involved in the hero scene they are is varied.

impulse is a relatively new hero (name pending), after an accident at his desk job somehow left him with electricity-based powers. he's kind of awkward and new at the whole gig, but he is determined to do his best! he is keeping his identity secret to keep what he thinks are his two civilian housemates safe, as well as to keep his other friends safe. he's a bit over his head but he mostly fights low-level villains at the moment anyway. he knows the least information of everybody but he's ALSO the most likely to have a crisis if he learns anything about his housemates.

pearl is a vigilante known as the cleaning lady. she's not so much an active combatant most of the time as someone who takes advantage of existing fights and crime scenes for her own ends, helping to make sure she puts down criminals and collects information from the aftermath. she'll help either side in order to meet her goal of cleaning up the city from the chaos it's currently in, and she dislikes most serious crime, she just... goes about it in a way most heroes do not agree with. she's figured out impulse's identity and avoids him in her night work because she's certain he'd clock her immediately. as for the red deer... she's worked with her once or twice and is kind of terrified, but doesn't know her identity at all.

gem is the soup group's mysteriously rich friend who is the one helping them rent the house together. really it would be suspicious she was renting with the kind of money her job makes and how much she can afford with what she supposedly actually makes if both pearl and impulse weren't so busy hiding their identities. and gem's glad! she's excited to have friends she can play civilian with--that doesn't normally last this long! because gem is the terrifying mercenary and hitman for hire, the red deer. compared to both impulse and pearl (who are normally considered small-time), gem is considered a "if you are not specifically pseudo-hawk, do not engage" level threat. she's particularly known for, if her job is to take down someone interesting, handing them a weapon and letting them have a "fair fight" back. only pseudo-hawk (real name false symmetry) has held her off before. the rest of her targets go home in body bags, and she gets her money. she rarely actually kills someone who ISN'T a target, but she still hurts them enough to keep them out of the way if they try to interfere.

and gem... gem knows EXACTLY who her housemates are. she's keeping an eye on the chatter about them, too. right now, no one who wants their head is offering the kind of money the red deer is worth, of course, so she doesn't have to worry. her status as one of the most dangerous villains in the city remains safe, and she can have her civilian friends, especially since she's pretty sure they don't know who she is! but if any of that falls apart. if they find her identity. if impulse manages to piss off an actually powerful villain, or pearl finally steps on the toes of a gang that can do something about her... well. well. gem... doesn't miss a target. and it would be fun! it would be... something, at least. she's starting to not be sure what she'd do, and that's... dangerous, in her line of work.

but the thing is, it's nice sharing a house, the three of them. surely, the weight of everyone's respective secrets and allegiances won't collapse around them!

...right?

[rowdyluv]

what a shame that he’s leaving

summary: Jack and y/n have been wanting to spice up their life in the bedroom.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+, nsfw, ‘sensory deprivation’, threesome, talks of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, deceiving, oral (female rec and male rec) fingering (female), there’s probably more but I can’t think

notes: hi bff @mirrorballmcgroarty convinced me to post this monstrosity of a fic. i hate it so much i wish i never created it or spoke it back into existence BUT enjoy anyways

Jack, Luke, and John sat around the sticky table at their favorite dive bar, the smell of greasy burgers and spilled beer lingering in the air. They were deep into their third round of drinks when Jack leaned in closer to John, his eyes glinting with a mischievous twinkle. "Hey, man," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "are you still down for that thing I talked to you about?"

John's eyebrows shot up, he had been serious about that? He took a sip of his beer, the condensation cool against his top lip. What Jack was referring to wasn't about the upcoming Olympic Games. John adverted his eyes over to Luke quickly and back over to Jack. He had to admit, Jack's proposal had been a bit of a shock, but also intriguing. John has always had a bit of a wild streak, and the thought of being part of Jack's and y/n's intimate experiment had left him more than a little curious. "Yeah, sure I'm still game," he murmured over the top of his beer mug, his voice low and casual, trying not to be betrayed by the sudden thrill that shot through him.

"Good," Jack said with a knowing smile, slapping a hand down on the table. "Because she's down for it too��sometime." Jack leaned back in his bar chair, watching John's reaction carefully. "But I've been planning it out, and tonight's the night. She thinks it will just be me coming home, but I've got a little surprise for her. If you’re going to come with me."

John nodded, his heart racing with curiosity. Jack wasn’t someone who typically beat around the bush. "What's the plan?"

But before Jack could elaborate, Luke slammed his hand down on the table, interrupting the hushed conversation. "You two are giving me a headache with all the whispering," he complained, a scowl etched on his face. "I'm gonna head out." He tossed a few crumpled bills onto the sticky wooden surface and stood up, swaying slightly.

“Don’t go home. You won’t get any sleep.” Jack snickered.

Luke narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to. You two cannot whisper no matter what you think. You also are not sly as to what you’re going to do.” Luke pretends to gag before he stalks off from the two older boys and their laughs.

Jack's grin widens as the door swings shut behind Luke. He turns back to John, his eyes full of excitement. "Alright, let's get to it," he says, leaning in closer. "Here's the plan: I'll go in first, set us all up. I’ll have her believing it’s just her and I, but I’ll get her all hot and bothered. I’ll get her riled up more by blindfolding her. She'll be thinking it's just me the whole time, wait until I get her blindfolded then you’ll come in.”

John nods slowly, his pulse quickening. "And what do you want me to do exactly?"

Jack's grin turns devilish. "I'll have her all ready, practically begging for it, and you go straight for the good stuff, man."

John laughs nervously, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. "If she thinks it's you, then it'll be your name she yells out," he points out, raising an eyebrow.

Jack's smile doesn't falter. "Well, that's half the fun, isn't it?" he quips, downing the rest of his beer. "No don’t worry man, I’ve got something worked up for that too.”

John raises an eyebrow. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

Jack nods confidently. "Almost everything. Let’s go.”

They left the bar, the neon lights flickering in the early evening darkness. Each man climbed into their respective vehicles, the engines rumbling to life as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Jack and y/n's apartment. The city streets were alive with the low murmur of traffic and distant laughter, a stark contrast to the heated anticipation that filled the confines of their cars.

Jack's mind raced as he navigated the familiar streets, his thoughts a whirlwind of excitement and apprehension. He'd been planning this night for weeks, ever since the trade had been confirmed. It was the perfect opportunity to push the boundaries of their relationship, to explore the wild side that y/n had hinted at but never fully embraced. The leather seats of his SUV hugged him tightly as he sped through the yellow lights, the wind in his hair feeling like a freedom he hadn't experienced in a long time.

As they pulled up to the apartment complex, Jack's heart hammered in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before they executed the plan. They parked side by side, the engines ticking as they cooled. They both knew that once they walked through the door, there was no turning back. John's eyes met Jack's, a silent confirmation of their shared excitement.

Jack stepped out of the car and unlocked the front door, calling out to y/n, "Hey babe, I'm home!" He waited for a moment, listening for her response. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he could feel the tension in the air thicken as she grew closer. She appeared in the doorway of the living room, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. She was wearing nothing but a large t-shirt that barely hung to her thighs, her skin glowing with the warmth of the setting sun.

“Hi.” She smiled softly.

Jack took three strides forward lifting her over his shoulder.

“Jack! What are you doing?!” Y/n squealed.

“I want you baby girl, I can’t wait.” His voice low, seductive. His statement true, but he was also needing to move away to allow John inside.

Y/n giggled, throwing her hand over her mouth. “Jack, put me down!” She protested playfully, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the hallway.

Jack smacked her ass gently. “Oh, I will, but not yet.” He said, carrying her into the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed, his eyes full of hunger. He took a step back, admiring her in the soft light that filtered through the blinds. Her t-shirt had ridden up, revealing her red underwear and the tops of her thighs. She leaned on her elbows, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

Y/n watched as Jack approached the bed, his movements deliberate and predatory. He leaned down, his warm breath tickling her skin as he whispered, "I've got a surprise for you tonight, baby." His lips grazing against the column of her throat ever so slightly, before he playfully nips at her neck. He leans over to his bedside table and pulls a bandanna out of his drawer, holding it up.

“Are you ready to have some fun?” Jack’s voice was gravely. Y/n only nodded, her eyes shining like diamonds in the sun. Jack grinned, over eager to get the bandanna on her.

Jack returned to his original space over her, the soft fabric of the blindfold brushing against her cheek. His eyes searched hers, looking for any signs of doubt. She bit her lip, but nodded. He could tell she was nervous but incredibly turned on. He placed the bandanna over her eyes, tying it tightly behind her head. The room was plunged into darkness for her, and her pulse quickening in anticipation.

Before she could react her panties were stripped from her, her legs spread wide, and she heard Jack’s tale-tale moan. “Oh babygirl, you’re already so fucking wet.” He drug a knuckle over her clit. Her hip bucked. “Fuck, Jack. Please” Jack smirked and retreated from the bed to wave John on down the hall.

John’s heart was racing as he tiptoed into the room, the sound of y/n’s breathless gasps guiding him like a beacon. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him: her half naked body stretched out on the bed, her chest heaving with every breath, the blindfold hiding the secrets of the evening from her eager eyes.

Jack gave him a nod, gesturing for him to join her on the bed. John’s pulse quickened as he approached, his eyes drinking in every inch of her exposed flesh. He climbed onto the bed, his body quivering with anticipation as he positioned himself between her thighs. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought of tasting her.

John leaned in, his mouth hovering just above her sensitive flesh. He took a deep breath, savoring the sweetness of her. Then, ever so gently, he kissed the inside of her thigh, his tongue darting out to trace the delicate skin. He could feel her body tense with excitement, her legs instinctively spreading wider for him. He continued his kisses, moving closer and closer to her center. He teasingly hovered right above her core. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, and he knew she was ready.

Finally, John couldn't resist any longer. He parted her folds with his thumbs and flicked his tongue over her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from y/n. She squirmed beneath him, her hands reaching out to grasp the sheets tightly. He licked her slowly, savoring the taste of her. Her hips began to rock against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction. He chuckled darkly against her, his breath hot against her skin, before he gave in to her silent plea. His tongue swirled around her clit, licking and sucking until she was bucking her hips up to meet him, her moans muffled by the pillow she had buried her face in.

Jack watched from the side of the bed, his own arousal growing as he saw y/n's body respond to John's ministrations. He had never seen her this wild, this uninhibited, and it was a sight to behold. He began to strip off his own clothes, his eyes never leaving her face. The way she thought the way she writhed and moaned, the way she arched her body off the bed, was all for him—made his cock harden. Every whimper she let out, every desperate plea for more made it hard to resist touching himself.

John's tongue grew more insistent, his hunger for her clear in every stroke. He lapped at her like a man starved of water in the desert, his mouth greedily devouring her wetness. He could feel her getting closer, her legs trembling and her breaths turning ragged. He knew she was on the edge, and he was eager to push her over. His thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of her inner thighs, spreading her wider, giving him better access. He took her clit between his teeth, sucking gently before letting go with a pop, making her cry out.

Y/n's body was a symphony of sensations, her mind a whirlwind of pleasure. She had never felt anything like this before. The mystery of not knowing where the next touch was coming from, when it was coming, who was touching her added an extra layer of excitement, making her crave more. She let out a whimper, her body begging for release. "Jack," she elongated his name as she moaned, her voice strained with desire. "Yes, Jack, right there."

Jack grinned triumphantly, he leaned over her grabbing her chin. “Oh sweet girl, it’s not me doing this to you.” He all but growled.

Y/n's breath hitched, her eyes flying open in shock. She reached up to rip the blindfold off, the room coming into focus with a jarring suddenness. Her eyes darting down between her legs frantically, her pupils dilated with lust. They fell on John, meeting his eyes dark with desire as he hovered just above her apex. When their eyes met, John took his fingers and plunged two deep inside her. Eliciting a sharp scream guttural scream from her. Her eyes darted over to Jack. She felt her cheeks flush with a mix of shock and arousal, her body betraying her with a needy moan.

Jack leaned in, his eyes dark with his own hunger, and whispered in her ear, "Surprise, baby." His hand reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin tenderly. "John's here to help me give you the night of your life." He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, making her shiver.

John took his tongue swirling around her clit once more before pulling away. "You're going to come so many times tonight," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "But not yet." He replaced his mouth with his fingers, working her clit in a steady rhythm that had her writhing and begging for more.

Jack chuckled darkly, his hand sliding down to his own erection. He stroked himself leisurely, watching the scene unfold before him. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "So open, so ready."

Sliding his fingers out of her and replacing them with his cock. John pushed in slow, watching her face contort with pleasure and surprise. "Jack's not the only one who knows how to make you feel good," he said, his voice a gravelly growl. He began to thrust, his movements measured and deliberate, drawing out her pleasure. “I can promise you that.”

John's cock filled her completely, reaching deep inside her and stroking against her g-spot with every push. Y/n's eyes rolled back into her head, a silent scream building in her throat. Her body was no longer her own, it was a playground for Jack and John's desires. She felt so full, so complete, and the sensation was overwhelming. Her hips began to match John's rhythm, her body begging for more.

Jack's hand was at the back of her head, guiding her mouth onto his erection. The salty taste of him filled her mouth, and she took him in eagerly, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. She could feel him pulsing with every beat of his heart, the veins in his shaft throbbing with his excitement. He talked dirty to her, his words a mix of praise and filth that sent shivers down her spine. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You look so fucking good with his cock in you, with my cock in your mouth."

John's thrusts grew more powerful, his hips slamming into hers with a force that had the bed shaking. Y/n could feel him stretching her, filling her completely. Each stroke was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her own moans vibrated against Jack's shaft, muffled by his skin. She could feel her orgasm building, a tight coil in her stomach that threatened to unravel at any moment.

Jack's grip tightened on the back of her head, his hips moving in a matching rhythm to John's. His words were a constant stream of filth, his voice a dark caress that only served to heighten her arousal. "Look at you, baby," he murmured, his voice low and sinful. "Taking both of us like a champ." He groaned as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. "You're such a good girl, letting us both use your tight little body."

John's eyes met Jack's over y/n's trembling form, a silent communication passing between them. They had been friends for years, and this was a moment they had never dared to imagine. The shared excitement was palpable, the tension in the room thick with lust and the thrill of the taboo. John leaned back, his hands on her hips, watching as Jack's cock disappeared into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with each bob of her head.

Jack's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her head, guiding her movements, setting a pace that had him groaning with pleasure. His eyes were locked onto hers, watching as they watered with the effort of taking him deep. She was so eager, so hungry for it, and it only made him want to fuck her face even more. He could feel John's thrusts into her pussy, the mattress squeaking beneath them, and he knew she was being driven wild by the sensation of being filled in both places at once.

“You think you could take us both at the same time here?” Jack reached behind him grazing his hand up the side of the globe of her ass. A drug out moan shuttered out from her throat and around his cock. Her pussy clamped down around John’s cock both in response. “I take that as a yes?” Jack raised on eyebrow questioning her.

Y/n pulled Jack out of her mouth with a pop. "Yes," she panted, her voice shaky with need. "I want it all."

“Who do you want where sweet girl?” John’s question hung in the air, his eyes burning with lust.

Without missing a beat, y/n responded, "John, I want you in my ass," she said, her voice shaky with excitement. "And Jack, I want you in my pussy." She looked at both of them with glazed eyes. If some one didn’t know better, they’d think she was pure and innocent.

Jack's eyes went wide, but he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a bottle of lube from his nightstand, handing it to John. "Looks like someone's eager," he said with a smirk, watching as John's eyes darkened with lust.

John took the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers before sliding them into her ass. Y/n whimpered, her body tightening at the sudden intrusion. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she pushed back against John's hand, urging him to go deeper, faster.

Jack leaned in, his lips crushing hers in a bruising kiss as John's fingers slid in and out of her ass. The feeling of being filled in both her ass and her pussy was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a delicious pressure that had her pussy clenching around Jack's shaft. He groaned into her mouth, his hand tangling in her hair as he began to thrust into her.

John's fingers worked her ass, stretching her, preparing her for his thick cock. He watched her face in the mirror across the room, her expression a mix of pleasure and pain, her mouth open in a silent scream as he replaced his fingers for his dick and stretching her wider, stroking in deeper. He whispered dirty words into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I've never felt anything like this."

Jack's hips moved in tandem with John's, their bodies working together in a rhythm that was both mesmerizing and carnally intense. Y/n's moans grew louder, her breaths coming in short gasps as they both pushed into her, filling her completely. She could feel their muscles tensing with every thrust, their sweat-slicked skin slapping against hers, the sound echoing through the room.

Their words a symphony of filth that had her pussy contracting around Jack's cock. "Look how good you're taking us," Jack said, his voice deep and commanding. "You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?"

John groaned in agreement. "Fuck yes, you are," he said, his voice strained. "You're going to come so hard with both of us inside you."

Her orgasm building faster and faster, a crescendo of pleasure that was almost too much to bear. She clung to Jack, her nails digging into his shoulders as John's cock hit that perfect spot deep within her ass, at times nudging against Jack’s. She was lost in the sensation, her body no longer her own.

Jack's hand slid down her body, his thumb finding her clit. He began to rub it in tight circles, his movements synced with their thrusts. She bucked her hips and cried out. The two men held her tight, their movements growing more frantic as they felt her approaching climax, as well as their own.

Her moans grew louder, her body tightening around them. "I'm going to come," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Oh, fuck, I'm going to come."

Jack's grip on her tightened, his thumb pressing down harder on her clit. "Come for us, baby," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Come for John and me."

Their strokes grew more powerful, their bodies moving as one. And then, with a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, y/n came. Her orgasm washed over her, a tidal wave of pleasure that left her trembling and gasping for breath.

Jack and John didn't let up, their strokes unrelenting as they chased their own releases. They watched her face, the way she bit her lip and arched her back, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. It was intoxicating, a sight that pushed them closer and closer to the edge.

With a load groan of ecstasy, Jack came with an intense shudder, inside her. John followed suit, his cock pulsing as he filled her ass with his cum. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts pounding.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, the three of them lost in the aftermath of their shared passion. Then, y/n reached up, her hands shaky as she touched Jack’s face. She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and amazement.

"That was... amazing," she said, still breathless. "I never knew I could feel like that."

Jack and John shared a grin, their eyes gleaming with a newfound camaraderie. They had given her an experience she would never forget, and the memory of it would surely fuel their fantasies for weeks to come.

But for now, all that mattered was the here and now, the three of them tangled together in the afterglow of their shared desire. They lay there, panting and sweaty, the warmth of their bodies melding together. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure, a moment that would forever be etched in their memories as the night they pushed the boundaries of their friendship and their love lives to the absolute limit.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving man, might’ve considered doing it all again.” Jack laughed tugging y/n over a little closer to kiss her a top the head.

John smirked, his hand idly tracing patterns on her hip. “Maybe we can make it a send-off tradition?” He suggested, watching her face for a reaction. “When Utah plays the Devils it becomes a thing?”

“Ehhh. Maybe. Don’t get too excited Marino.” Jack stiffly chuckles while he’s moving y/n around to get her up for a bath. She’s already falling asleep on him. Making it harder on him. “Not saying no, not saying yes, it’s upset to babygirl here. I’ll do anything for her. Absolutely anything.”

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3

Part One | Part Two

To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol

"Robin, this is serious."

Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."

"I'm starting to think you're jealous."

"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."

"He'd probably get some if I asked."

In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."

"For someone so invested, you're not helping."

He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.

"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.

"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."

"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."

"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."

Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"

Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.

Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"

For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.

After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.

Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."

"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."

"What formula are you seeing here?"

"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."

Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."

"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."

"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."

"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."

"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.

Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.

Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.

The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.

The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.

"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.

Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.

When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.

"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.

And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.

Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.

"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."

"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"

"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."

A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.

Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."

The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.

Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.

Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.

Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.

"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.

Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?

But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."

Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.

Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."

Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks.

"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.

"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."

"Yes, sir."

Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.

Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!

[urinarythreatinfection]

Hello~ I was wondering if you could do a headcannon for a Crocodile x reader who has worked with him since Alabasta. As of late, after forming Crossguild, he's realizing that he has feelings for her and it pisses him off.

It's good I reread this because I almost starting writing you having feelings and it annoying him. Anyway I know headcanons are usually formatted different and worded different so I just tried to copy what i've seen. Sorry if it's weird, it's my first time. Be gentle 🥺. If i did something wrong just tell me. Also my first ask that isn't me squeee!

Crocodile the love struck (reptile) fool

Crocodile x fem reader. Crocodile isn't happy that this is an x reader because he's a control freak. 821 words.

You’re a hard worker, a competent worker, and a loyal worker. Those are facts, viable facts that could be proven in the fact that you work just as hard now as you do in Alabasta despite having less incentive to; despite having the opportunity to leave him when he was in Impel Down. It’s why he’s so in denial about these unwanted feelings at first, then angry that he has them. Things are already so hectic, he doesn’t need anything else to be out of his control.

• It started with your smile, as cliche as it is, the one you wore even though work can be anything but fun.

• He found it irritating at first, work is something to be taken seriously, but came to appreciate it.

• First because it meant you enjoyed your job well enough, something he likes since it means more loyalty.

• Now that he's formed Cross Guild, it's because it brightens his own day; and to the point where now it’s like some sort of drug.

• One where if he doesn’t get it he gets on edge, making work even duller.

• It’s embarrassing, a fully grown old man like him getting cranky because doesn’t get a smile from a pretty girl he likes. Pathetic.

• It ends up putting him in an even worse mood when he notices it.

• Another thing that annoys him is how much he likes your voice.

• You’ve even started having to repeat things to him because he was too focused on how nice it sounds and feels to hear you talk to him.

• He wouldn’t be surprised if you thought he’d gone senile at this point…

• Thankfully you don’t show it if you do feel that way.

• Something he does wish you’d show is distaste for when any of the other men talk to you.

• He knows it’s mostly good work ethic communicating with them well, it helps now that you’re allied with other people, but sometimes he wishes you’d sneer at Mihawk or scoff at Buggy rudely.

• Show that you dislike talking to them, hate talking to anyone that isn’t him.

• There are the childish thoughts again…

• He’s 46 for gods’ sake, someone who’s killed both with his own hands and from his indirect actions.

• Not some schoolboy getting fussy that his crush is talking to someone else.

• Maybe feelings like “fussy” would be better though, would be safer for you; because they’re not always so childish.

• He wants you all to himself, you’re his anyway.

• You worked with him in Alabasta, waited for him while he was in Impel down, and work with him again in Cross Guild even if the work is more taxing; and less rewarding.

• You stayed with him, so loyal for him, so it makes sense that you’re his

• He wants to shower you with things you’d like, not just to dress his pretty girl up, but to guilt you into staying with him.

• To give him more of an excuse to be protective over you than just having feelings.

• What a terrible thing to think, but he’s never been a morally correct person.

• Either way, it’s not like he could actually do anything to hurt you.

• He’s tried, you can become a serious weakness for him.

• But everytime he tries there’s always an excuse.

• “She’s too useful.” “She’s a good worker.” “l still need her for this.” “It’d be a hassle.” “She makes my work easier.” “I’ll do it once I get my power back.”

• Though those are viable reasons that stop him, they aren’t truly the core reason.

• The reason is because he loves you, and it drives him mad.

• As mad as when you smile for others, or your hands brush together, or you call his name while looking up at him with those pretty eyes he wants looking nowhere else.

• You’re so beautiful, he loves you.

• He wishes that the feelings would just go away with time, with the fatigue he gets from working days straight.

• But they don’t, and they only get stronger.

• Especially when you do things to make even the smallest things easier.

• Making sure his cigar drawer is always full, bringing him water, telling him the time when he loses track of it.

• When he notices you telling him the time while looking sleepy yourself, he almost grabs you to pull you into his lap.

• Hold you, cage you into his arms and give you a kiss with all the emotion he’s been building up.

• But he can’t lose control, so he doesn’t.

• He just sends you off with a “Thanks, get some sleep yourself before you pass out on the job.”

• Once you turn, you can’t see the way his eyes follow you with a warmth he didn’t even know he had.

• And once the door is closed behind you, you don’t see the way he puts his head in his hand with a “Fuck.”

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

can I please get headcannons for the bones boys taking you out on a first date? Thank you so much for writing for bones!

A/N: anything for my bones boys

Booth would definitely do something unconventional. Something fun, unexpected, something that was a bit competitive, but mostly something where he could show off.

"Really?" you almost laughed as you stood in front of the entrance. "The fair?"

"Oh, come on. When was the last time you did something like this?" He nudged you on your shoulder, wagging his eyebrows at you.

He would then proceed to win you a giant stuffed bear at the duck shoot.

"What?" he shrugged nonchalantly, "Like's hard?"

"Not for you apparently," you teased. "Though I expect being a ranger turned FBI agent probably helps."

You started walking backwards enjoying the challenging look in his eyes.

"Are you trying to rial me up?" he questioned, smirking at you.

You leaned in close to him, enjoying the way his breathing increased. "Depends, how easy do you fluster?"

You pulled away, making your way towards the ring toss.

"Oh, I see how it is," Booth shouted as he trailed after you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

The first date with Booth would solely about getting to know you, making you laugh, and gauging just how comfortable he could be around you. It would absolutely end with him being a giant tease and kissing you on the corner of your mouth or your temple.

Hodgins, rich (so rich he doesn't even know how rich), Hodgins would try and impress you. At least that was his first thought. Private and obscenely expensive dinner? Check. Expensive car to get you there? Check.

But like many things in Jack's life, it never really went according to plan.

"Oh, come on!" Jack grumbled at the flat tire. "I just had the car serviced. I can't believe this."

It was only when you started laughing that he relaxed enough to look at you.

"What?" He asked a bit in disbelief. Crushing thoughts about how this was the worst first date to never actually even start diminished at the sight your smile.

"I don't think I've seen you this stressed since you tried to hide TNT experiment from Cam," you said laughter dying down.

"Hey, that civil war exhibit didn't need it as much as us," he reasoned, a smile now stretching across his own face as he leaned against his car.

You mirrored his movements, shoulder pressed against his as you leaned against the car.

"I wanted this to be perfect. But just about everything seems to have gone wrong."

"Well, it's a good thing the night isn't over yet," you looked around. "You know, I think we're close to the diner."

"You can't be serious," he laughed. A mixture of disbelief and awe.

"Dead. I never needed anything fancy anyways - just you Jack."

From that moment, he knew that he wasn't ever going to mess it up. You were it for him.

Sweets would want to do anything where the two of you could just talk. We know he's done a pottery class before so something along those lines. Really anything where he got to just look at you with a big grin on his face and listen to every word that came out of your mouth.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Your chicken is burning."

"Oh, shit."

You let out a laugh that made him forget all about the charred chicken. He, in hindsight, should have known better than to plan a cooking class as your first date. Not when you distracted him so easily he could chop a finger off. Definitely not his best idea.

"Here, we can just share mine," you said as you fed him some of your food. All teasing smiles and delicious prolonged eye contact.

Definitely not his worst date idea.

Wendell is one for simplicity. He wants to get to know you, but he also doesn't want to go overboard and scare you off. He'd plan for a simple dinner (your pick) and make a walk around the city.

The street lights illuminated the city, a cool breeze rushing past you. You tried your best not to seem cold - you'd opted for looks- not practically. Now you were paying the price for it.

A sudden rush of warm hit you, you looked up at Wendell who'd wordlessly placed his jacket over your shoulders.

"Wendell-"

"Don't even mention it. Can't have you getting sick now, can I?" He gently nudged your shoulder with his own as you walked side by side. "Wouldn't want you to rain check the next date."

"The next one?" you prodded - warmth washing over your cheeks. "Someone is presumptuous," you teased.

"Nah, just optimistic," He smiled brightly at you. "So, what do ya say?"

"I think your odds are looking pretty good," you looped your arm to hold on to his.

Wendell wouldn't necessarily consider himself a betting man, but he'd say he won out on this one.

Vincent was quiet sure how he'd managed it. It was all a bit of blur if he was honest. One second you both were discussing how no number before a thousand contains the letter a, and the next he had asked you out. And you'd said yes.

He almost thought he'd dreampt it, really. You'd had to call out his name twice before he blinked himself back into reality.

Now he stood in front of your door holding flowers that were wilting away by the second - he swore he'd just gotten them and they looked pristine.

He let out a sigh, knuckles frozen over the door. This would be, fine. You already said yes. Oh, God.

Knuckles knocking against the door, he frantically smoothed out his hair.

"Vincent!"

You leaned in for a hug, crushing the flowers, but he couldn't bring himself to care. You pulled away giving him this brilliant smile that put him at ease.

"Are those for me?"

"Wha- yes. Yes, they are for you." He handed you the roses. "Did you know over 30,000 rose varieties exist today?"

You let out a small laugh, eyes still sparkling. "I didn't, but thank you for telling me."

That smile of your really did put him at ease. This would be fine - this would be great - because he was with you.

When Colin asked you to go out with him to the Slasherthon at the local movie theater he wasn't actually sure you'd say yes. But he figured the worst you could say was no - or you know, laugh at him until he fell into an endless abyss of shame.

Either would be fine.

He expected the abyss.

He did not expect you to say yes. Let alone actually show up. But there you were in a Jason Voorhees t-shirt all smiles as he walked up to you.

"Are you ready for lots of gore and eating our weight in popcorn?" You asked practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. He'd never seen anything more lively or beautiful in his life.

"A person after my own heart," he said dramatically - hand placed over his own heart.

"Come on, Colin," you grabbed his hand pulling him into the theater. As you led him away he realized the abyss option would have been much worse than he had anticipated.

You were a light shining into his abyss.

Aubrey would take you to a nice sit down restaurant. He spent the better half of the week trying to decide where exactly to take you. He'd finally settled on a restaurant you had been talking about trying for a month now.

"Aubrey, how did you know I wanted to eat here?" You asked, leaning forward. Your eyes excitedly bouncing between the menu and Aubrey.

"You've been talking about it," he shrugged, trying his hardest to be nonchalant about it.

"Aubrey- I mentioned it once, like, a month ago." You laughed a bit in disbelief.

"And?"

"And how do you remember something like that?"

"It sounded important to you, why wouldn't I want to remember it?"

He'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed that look on your face. A mixture of disbelief and being heard - actually heard.

"Now, I'm thinking we go family style on this bad boy and see what all the fuss is about." Aubrey leaned forward, both of you so close to the other. If the flowers in the middle of the table weren't in the way he just might have leaned in for kiss.

"You sure you can leave some food for me?" You teased, your eyes sparkling in a way that made Aubrey realize he never wanted to see your eyes without it.

"Sweetheart, I'd leave all of it for you if you asked."

"Liar," you laughed.

"Alright some of it, but that's better than none!"

[mxtantrights]

where you go, I go

a/n: okay so while I'm writing this whole series for azriel just know that I had this other recurring dream about a plot like this. I couldn't really make it a fully fleshed out story with a happy ending so I decided to type it all out and make it a one-shot with angst and not a lot of comfort (this is your warning, this doesn't end happily) anyways with all of that said, if you decide to read this please enjoy and tell me what you think! <333 also happy valentines day <333

azriel x assassin!fem!reader

5.1k words

The day court was home to many things. Vibrant colors, warm waters, ancient books and of course the very ancient and magical day blade. It's your job to know where that this is at all times.

You can't possibly understand why the shadow singer would try to steal it. Try being the operative word here. While you did sense him enter your court and break into the room where the blade was, it wouldn't have mattered.

Seeing as it is your job to protect the blade at all costs, it never leaves your sight. But that didn't mean you couldn't have fun with those who wanted so badly to get it.

In your pocket you feel a piece of paper appearing suddenly. You reach inside and unfold it. It's Helion. He's requesting your presence. You smile to yourself, this would be fun.

You leave your hiding place, the palace had many hidden rooms and hallways, and walk over to Helion's day room. As you approach from the hallway you can hear multiple conversations being had.

The door is closed so you open it slightly.

"There she is! Come in and greet my guests!" he says happily.

You make sure you face is kept neutral. You had an image to upkeep in this court.

The people respect you and fear you in the same breath. You don't go around killing people but you do often get justice in ways that aren't in the parameters of the law. Whether that be stringing up robbers and looters from their pants, or burning down the houses of dirty criminals.

You keep your eyes straight, not looking any of his guests in the eye. You walk until you are standing behind Helion who sits in his usual seat.

"I was just telling Feyre that I enjoy the new company. This is the inner circle." he says to you.

You nod once.

"She doesn't talk?" Nesta asks.

You know all of them. It's your duty to know The Who's who of the courts. The inner circle of the night court. High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre-Curse breaker. Her sisters Elaine and Nesta. Rhysand's brothers Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan, past fiancee of Eris Vanserra. Amren, a mythical creature of serious power.

Helion laughs at Nesta's question. He knows you talk. He knows you very well, seeing as he practically raised you. But that information isn't public knowledge.

"She does, but not when theres something wrong." Helion answers.

You look at all of them now. How the girl closest to the shadow singer, Elaine, looks worried. And it's quick, you almost don't catch it, but you're so good at your job at this point.

"Trouble in the day court?" Rhysand says.

You lean over and whisper into Helion's ear about the blade. How the shadow singer came here to steal it, on a mission from his high lord. How he thinks he got away with it.

The room goes quiet as you pull back and Helion sits back in his chair. He loves the dramatics you pull off every single time someone tries to take the blade. The last person you caught was really delighted to be drowned in glitter, confetti and manure.

"Is there something you're forgetting?" Helion asks.

Rhysand looks at his inner circle with an incredulous smile. Then he looks to you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You can't imagine this will go over well either.

You can't feel it. The daemati powers that certain fae have don't work on you. You're not really sure why. Might have something to do with your unknown lineage. Or your overall hardheadedness-so Helion says.

Rhysand cocks his head to the side at your unmoving posture. He's still looking at you. You however are taking in the shadow singer. He's sitting there, not bothering to look at anyone. He must really think he got the blade.

"What would that be?" Feyre asks this time.

"Well, when you want something that another has you usually ask." Helion says.

At that everyone at the table grows grim. Caught red handed is what it seems like. You still manage to hide you smile though.

"Helion..." Rhysand starts.

"If you were anyone else I would have you locked up already. But lucky for me my security system is top notch." Helion smiles and grabs his glass for another sip of what could only be wine.

At his words the shadow singer now looks at the high lord. Your high lord. His face bares no emotion, like he can't afford to give a way a secret or smile.

You've heard about his reputation. But at this point that's all it is. He couldn't even steal from you correctly. This has to be the most interesting thing that's happened this year. You don't get around to much outsider business, you tend to stay out of it.

"I don't think it is." the shadow singer says.

Helion stifles a laugh. But you can hear it. And you know if you can hear it they all can. The room is big but not big enough that guests at a table can't hear things.

"Care to relieve them of their misery?" he looks up to you and asks.

You didn't really want to. But then again you'd have to play nice with them. Helion seems to like this group. Or most likely, his son is friends with this group and he wants to be friends with his son.

You sigh, "Take out the blade."

You watch in amusement as everyone at the table looks at each other. As if they all don't know what they really came here for. The shadow singer though, he's different. He's looking right at you.

His shadows materialize the blade right on the table for everyone to see. Cassian, gives him a look. But Azriel doesn't seem to see it or care.

"That's not the blade." Helion quips.

You call the blade to you with your powers. Being gifted with the ability to control sun made objects is fun most of the time. Most living things are sun made in a sense. So really you could control all things, to a certain extent.

The blade comes flying into your hand. As soon as it makes contact with your skin it transforms. The metal of the blade turns into a vibrant green stem. And the helm turns into the face of a sunflower.

Azriel seems to go through a range of emotions. First confusion. Then understanding. And then the last one, well you can't actually pin down the last one. You've gotten good at reading people but he's harder than others.

"The blade is safe in the day court, where it will remain until you ask for it." Helion says.

Rhysand lets of a breath, "I am sorry about lying, but we're short on time."

"And I thought our alliance was stronger than that. I am sorry too." Helion replies.

Helion stands from his seat, causing the others to match his actions. The sound of chairs on marble floors reaches your ears. You take a step back and cross your hands behind your back.

"We need the blade for a mission." Feyre speaks.

"It could be a simple mission or the end of the world. The fact that you have no respect to ask me tells me everything I need to know." Helion says casually.

You know that he is hurt by their lying. It's not deep, but it's there. He thought he could trust them. He thought because they had good relations with him before that they were better than the actions they are displaying right now.

Of course you know of the good bond between them. Which is why you don't understand why they didn't just ask. Unless there is a well justified reason. Why not ask the high lord for the blade unless he was implicated somehow.

How could Helion be implicated in a mission from the night court. He doesn't know anything, or he would have offered them the blade himself. No this is something he's not at the center of. But it still concerns him.

Lucien. You look at the guests around the room. He is no where to be found. True he's not part of the inner circle. He's an emissary. But if it was something the inner circle could simply ask Helion for, why not butter him up with his son?

Lucien may or may not know what going on.

"Where's Lucien?" you ask.

At you question all of the heads move to you. Right, you hadn't spoken to them this whole time. Well you weren't going to give them a smile and greet them kindly.

"What business do you have with him?" Nesta asks.

"He's in Spring. Managing relations." Rhysand answers.

You nod your head. Spring. If that answer can even be trusted. Let's say you do trust it for the moment.

The inner circle needs the day blade. They didn't want to ask for it. They didn't let Lucien come.

"Were you planning on returning it?" you ask again.

Nesta, rolls her eyes at your question. You can't help the giddiness you feel of getting under her skin. You hardly did anything to warrant it. But it felt kind of good.

"As soon as we were done." Azriel answers this time.

You don't ignore the stress he puts not he word soon. You also don't ignore the way his eyes seem to never leave yours.

"That blade is our most powerful weapon. We don't just give it out to anyone." Helion chimes in.

He maneuvers around his chair and stands behind you. When he grips both of your shoulders with his hands, you can tell he's smiling even if you can't see him.

"But I will let you use it," Helion continues, "on one condition."

"Go ahead." Rhysand says.

"Wherever the blade goes, she goes." Helion says.

"That won't be necessary." Nesta says.

At the same time Cassian says, "That's odd."

Helion shrugs his shoulders and lets go of you. He leans into your ear to whisper his next words very carefully. When you understand him and what he wants, you nod your head only once.

He grabs the sunflower from your hands as you uncross them from behind you. Helion stands next to you now. You watch as Helion brings the flower up to his nose and gives it a sniff.

"We agree to those terms." Azriel speaks up.

"Woah hold on-" Rhysand tries to cut in.

"Great. I think this will be beneficial to both courts." your high lord agrees.

You turn to face him now, your back towards the guests. Helion was looking at you with a very faint smile. You heard every word he whispered to you. And you understand the reason why: Family.

What you don't get it is why he won't just speak to Lucien himself. Why play nice with a high lord that knows his son when he can just reach out to him? Invite him to the day court or send him a letter.

Everyone in this room knows Lucien is Helion's son, except Lucien. And now your mission is to tell him so that he might finally have a true place to call home.

Helion wouldn't so easily agree to lending out the blade like this if it weren't for Lucien. And the night court wouldn't try to steal it if Lucien did know, because he could just ask on their behalf.

Your shoulders sag at the thought. You had no interactions with Lucien. You only ever heard of him from Helion and he only started referring to him as his son a couple of months ago.

It'll be you. You'll be the one to see him, come eye to eye to him, and tell him the truth.

You can see it in his eyes. The sadness. You'd do anything for him. He's a father figure to you. And you'll see this through, for his sake and Lucien's too.

"Promise me you'll smile a little bit during your trip." Helion says.

"The Sun Wraith doesn't smile." you answer.

"You're the Sun Wraith?" Cassian's voice asks.

You turn around and face the general. It's all over his face. The look of shock. It wasn't hard to become something of a legend in this court and the ones surrounding it.

"Even people in the night court are scared of you." Nesta says.

On her face seems to be another emotion. Not fear. Not shock. Something lighter amongst the surface. Admiration maybe? You aren't too sure.

"I'll grab my things." you say to no one in particular.

"And the blade." Azriel's voice sounds.

"I never go anywhere without it." you say, reaching behind you.

Grabbing the flaps of your yellow vest you flip it over and your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. You pull it out for all of them to see.

"Best security in all of the courts." Helion jokes.

-

THREE WEEKS LATER

The mission has barely begun and you hate it here. You hate it in the night court. The days are shorter and you feel pale without even looking into a mirror most days. Nothing beats the sun of the day court on your skin.

Amren had told you it would get better. After your first meeting she had taken a liking to you. You were told by several members in the inner court that it was no easy feat. She talked to you the most out of everyone.

Second to her, came Nesta who was just curious about the things you allegedly did or did not do. You held off on telling her anything too juicy. It was funny toying with her with the details. She also likes your fighting style. Morrigan too.

Azriel talks to you. Sometimes. He's friendly to a point. Cassian is more friendlier than him but you're starting to understand it's just in his nature. Feyre and Rhysand are cordial. Elaine is, well you've been told that she's nice but you haven't really seen it. She greets you but that's it.

The inner circle didn't get on your nerves. But you also had your own mission. Deliver the news to Lucien that Beron isn't his father, Helion is.

Which is why though this whirlwind of a mission you're laying down on path of grass outside of the House of Wind. Weird. What was even weirder was the fact that Velaris, a secret city inside of the night court, has existed for so long with no one none the wiser.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Trying to turn your brain off. It wasn't working. The sun wasn't the same, it does't feel the same. You can't call off this mission either.

"Is this what you do in the day court?"

You'd know that voice anywhere. Which is weird to say as you've known the male for a couple of weeks now. But it's true. Azriel's voice was distinguishable from others. A bit low, but still soft. Clear.

"Yes." you answer.

"Is that all the explanation you can give me?"

"Yes."

You think he'll go away. He plays nice because you have the blade. He needs the blade, which means he needs you. Once he no loner needs the blade he won't need you.

When you hear the sound of him getting closer you want so badly to open your eyes. But you don't. You keep them closed. As much as you want to open them and see what he's doing.

The sound of him laying down beside you on the grass is one you weren't expecting. Also the feeling of soft cold tendrils nipping at your arm.

"It feels...nice. A bit cold." he speaks.

Of course he'd complain about he cold. Nesta had told you that Illyrians were whiny babies. You'd seen it personally when Cassian couldn't get a certain dish because there were no more potatoes for the day.

And now here his brother is. Complaining.

You hold up your left hand, the one close to him.

"Give me your hand." you command.

You half expect him to decline. To maybe even get up and leave. Or maybe say that he doesn't mind the cold. The other half of you expects him to just listen you-to see where it goes.

He takes your hand. You focus on letting the additional warmth you normally feel from the sun flow from your hand and into his.

Out of all the things you half expect and do expect, his laugh is something you don't plan for. It's deep. It comes from his core. It's gentle too. Which you wouldn't get just from looking at him.

"It's warm." he says.

"That's how the sun feels in the day court." you answer.

"I think you just spoke more than three words to me."

You scoff, "Don't get used to it."

"That was four words."

"Shut up."

"Two. We're regressing."

"Azriel."

"I'll be quiet now."

This is how you spend your time. If you are not training with Morrigan, Amren and Nesta. Or not eating with Cassian in the kitchen. You are laying out on the grass with Azriel in the sun.

It happens more times than you care to admit as the mission goes on.

-

ONE MONTH LATER

This place, Velaris, was starting to grow on you. You didn't want to admit that out loud, or in your letters to Helion. Or how well you were gettign on with Azriel. The trips into the city, the lingering glances and words with hidden layers.

You letters should only have on subject, Lucien.

He has been back from the spring court for two weeks now. You've taken that time to get to know him. You couldn't fathom unleashing the truth on him as a stranger. You don't need to be his friend. But he needs to at least trust the words coming out of your mouth when you say them.

Family dinner they called it. Even though only three of them were related to each other. But you guess that what makes their family unique. They choose each other, every day.

This meal was special. Seeing as you had finished the mission that Helion sent you on to protect the blade. There was a fae that needed to be tracked down and would only come out of hiding if he could see the sun blade.

Of course you didn't let him, but you did convince him that the fake blade you passed onto him was the real thing. When he found it wasn't after he revealed his intentions with it he got angry.

Angry enough to rain hellfire down on both you and Azriel. If it weren't for your fast thinking and powers you both wouldn't have made it out in one piece.

Now you're sat with the inner circle to celebrate your feat.

Someone clears their throat. This drags your gaze from the redheaded male to the dark haired one. The both of them were sitting in front of you.

How the mother is cruel and precious at the same time. One male is your mission which you planned for. The other male you didn't plan for, and yet...

"Az was asking if you miss home." Morrigan says from your side.

"Dearly. But its not bad here." You speak, not quite realizing what you just did.

You watch as Azriel's smile grows and grows on is lips. It hits you then.

"Wipe that smile off your face before I take it back." you say to him.

"No I don't think I will." he jokes.

You shake your head with a light laugh. You can pick up on his laugh too from across the table.

"Well if it means anything, you fit in well here." Amren speaks up.

Everyone at the table quiets down at that. You look over at her, peering around Morrigan. You nod once at the sentiment.

"You need to tell him." Elaine says suddenly.

You look to her sharply. She's gotten better about speaking to you. More than a greeting but still less than a conversation. It does weird you out some times but you let it go for the most part.

"Oh?" you ask rhetorically.

"Elaine I don't think we should discuss this here." Feyre starts.

"He needs to know." Elaine says again.

It upsets you. She is his mate. She is the one connected to him. She has known this secret longer than you. But you'll be the one to tell him? She doesn't want to get her hands dirty. None of them do.

"What do I need to know?" Lucien asks all of a sudden.

You look to him. Hoping nothin is being given away by your face. When no one answers him he scoffs lightly to himself and looks around at the table.

This is happening now.

"It's obviously about me, none of you can look me in the eye except for her." Lucien continues.

"I can tell you, in private." you offer.

He nods his head and gets up from his seat. You follow his lead and get up too. The two of you walk out of the dining room and onto the balcony. You pull the door close behind you.

"Before you say anything, do they all know about this?" he asks.

He can't be asking about Elaine. She's the whole reason you're having this conversation right now. No, he's talking about Feyre. His friend. Or who he thought was his friend.

What can be left of a friendship after a lie like this?

"Yes." you answer simply.

Lucien shakes his head, "Okay, you can tell me now."

You take him in. The tense shoulders. The bowed head. His hair is perfectly combed behind his back. In this light, he looks like Helion. Not too much, but just enough.

How do you up end someone's life?

"Lucien do you ever think about what it felt like growing up with Beron as your father?" you ask.

Lucien looks at you sharply, "It was unspeakable. I wouldn't wish that life on anyone."

"And it shouldn't have been yours either." you reply.

His brows furrow. Right in the middle like they want to meet so badly. You wonder if he's felt like an outsider before. If he's ever felt it amongst his brothers. The black sheep.

"When my mission is over here, do you think you could come back with me to the day court?" you ask softly.

His face goes from confusion to somewhat understanding. But you haven't told him enough for him to completely get what you're saying, what you're asking of him.

"A couple of times Eris tried to make me visit the day court." Lucien admits.

You nod your head at that. Of course. Ever the perfect actor. You knew him for a little slice of time in your life. A period in which you won't ever forget. He was your first kiss. You were young and kids, trying to figure out your own way in life.

Kissing Eris, the treacherous fox of the autumn court, was every bit exciting at your age. You gossiped, and word got around. But he didn't deny it. For all the lies and manipulation he pulled you thought he might say you were delusional, that you had made it all up. But he backed you claim.

Eris knew Lucien wasn't Beron's son. Eris probably protected him as best he could. In his own, Eris way. Whatever that means.

"You can invite him too." you say.

Lucien looks past you. No doubt at the inner circle lingering inside. If you were in his position you wouldn't even go back in there. You'd never talk to any of them again.

"I'll take my leave now, but thank you. For being honest." he says.

You give him a small smile, "To be clear I was to tell you the news in a gentle manner. What just happened was out of my hands."

"I get it. I'll see you around." he says.

You bid him goodbye. Then he's walking past you. You hear the door open and how voices inside seem to call his name. You don't hear him respond to any of them. You hear the front door slam.

With a breath you turn around and head back inside too. When you do everyone is looking right at you. It unnerves you. You hate it.

"I've done your dirty work now. I think I'll call it a night." you speak.

"He didn't deserve to find out like that." Feyre says.

"You're right, he deserved honesty from his friends." you retort.

"You were sent here to tell him the truth. Am I wrong?" Rhysand asks.

You turn to face him clearly. You can't believe he just said that. You cannot believe he formed the words with his mouth to say that to you.

Without saying another word you walk right out of the dinning room. You ignore Nesta and Amren calling out to you. And you ignore the shadow that walks with you right out of the room and into he hallway.

As soon as you get inside of your guest room the shadow disappears.

SUNRISE, THE NEXT DAY

You're skip training and packing for home instead. You wish you could pack faster but that isn’t possible. You don’t want to be here for another second. Not in this court, not among the inner circle.

When you throw in your last few shirts into the luggage a knock raps on the door. You don’t know who it is, but if it is Rhysand or Elaine you won’t open the door.

“Who is it?” You ask.

“It's me, can you open up?”

You go over to the door and open it. Standing there on the threshold is Azriel.

“I’ll be leaving soon.” You say.

His eyes seem to widen at that. You watch as he peers over you and takes in the bareness of the room, and the packed luggage. He straightens himself out.

“Why so soon? It feels like you just got here.” He replies. 

Based on his words alone he doesn’t want you to leave. You can feel it too. How it’s only been a month or so but the two of you are comfortable around each other. 

You sigh, “The mission is over.”

“And we’re back to this? Four word sentences?” He asks.

“Azriel.”

He looks down both sides of the hallway. His head turning left then right. Then he’s turning back to you. He looks nervous. Antsy. He doesn’t normally look that way. He’s usually so composed. 

He takes you by surprise. He side steps into the room and closes the door behind him. At that you know your eyes go wide. He holds up his hands in defense.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for that but I just—are you mad at me?” He asks.

You scoff, “Yes I am.”

“Okay I knew that, but I was also confused because on that mission you saved my life.”

“Hardly.” You answer simply.

He groans at your one word answer, “You made sure those arrows didn’t plant themselves in my wings. You made sure I was safe.”

“It was nothing.” 

“No it was something.” 

You’re catching on now to how tense he is. Tense or nervous you can’t tell. His eyes are frantic. His breathing is also uneven. And his shadows are fully out on display now.

You do the one thing you can think of. You reach out for his hand. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. When you make contact he looks you in the eye. “Please calm down.” You whisper.

He bows his head, his hair covering his face now. All of a sudden he sinks to his knees. The action catches you completely off guard. 

“I’m sorry.” He says again.

You focus on sending him warmth from your hand. In a second you can see his shoulders begin to shake. From this angle you can’t tell just yet if it’s what you think it is. 

So you bring your free hand to the side of his face. You feel it. In the palm of your hand you feel his wet cheek. He’s crying. Azriel the shadow singer is crying, on his knees in front of you.

“I could have died and for the first time in a very long time I felt this deep regret in the bottom of my belly.” He chokes out.

What would he have to regret? 

Slowly you drag you hand down his cheek. You place your pointer finger under his chin. Titling his head up, you meet his eyes. From this close you hadn’t realize how many shades of brown they hold.

“Azriel, you’re okay. I promise you you’re okay.” You whisper.

He shuts his eyes, more tears flowing down his face now. 

“I don’t think I will be.” He admits.

“Why?” You ask.

He opens his eyes again. 

“Because you hate us now, you’ll never come back here.” He answers.

In a sense he was right. Not totally. You didn’t hate the inner circle. You just couldn’t stand what they did last night. How they acted, how none of them would fess up. Even though some of them had known Lucien for a long time.

But you didn’t hate them. You didn’t hate him.

“I don’t hate you.” You reply.

“I could see it on your face last night. And now, you’re leaving so quickly. You want nothing to do with us.” He adds on.

There’s silence between the two of you. The emotions Azriel is feeling right now feel heavy. Way too heavy for someone he’s only spent about two months with. 

You had heard many rumors about him. But him being like this, wearing his heart on his sleeve like this? You don’t think you could have ever imagined it.

Remembering that he’s waiting for you to answer, you remember to speak.

“Yes I’m upset and I want to go home. But that doesn’t mean I never want to see you again. Azriel I really enjoyed my time with you.” You speak.

You don’t realize it but your hand is stroking his now. 

He gives you a look you can’t figure out, “Why does it feel like that time is over already? Like I’ll never see you again?” 

He reaches up and places your hand on his cheek again. You don’t emit the warmth from there but he nuzzles into your hand like you are. His thumb rubs back and forth on the back of your hand there.

“You talk like everything is set in stone. Like there is only one path.” You say.

“I can just, sense it.” He explains barely.

You shake you head, “Azriel I was always going to leave.”

“Not like this. Last night changed everything.” He says, but it comes out more like a whisper.

“Get up.” 

He looks at you, a bit of shock. You watch as he follows your command and gets back on his feet. He keeps your hand pressed to his face the whole time. Your other hand falls to your side.

“You can come visit me.” You say.

He’s silent. Silent but he nods his head at your words. You’re not sure if he believes you fully. But it’s enough. He wipes the tears from his face. His wings perk up, off the floor now.

You wrap your arms around his body before you can think against it. Instantly you feel his arms around you. Pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours. It feels right. It feels natural. No, it feels like something else too.

It feels the exact same way the sunlight in the day court feels on your skin. Like it is meant to be.

part two here!

[achilles-rage]

SFW Alphabet

word count: 3.1k

A/N: i'm so sorry his took a while to write, i got really into bridgeton and binged the whole thing so my mind was on that. also, i felt like lady whistledown while finishing this LOL. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He likes some PDA, but will tone it down most of the time, opting to have his arm around you or steal quick kisses when attention isn't on you. At home, however, he is ON YOU, as touch is the easiest way for him to show affection. He wants to have you as close to him as possible, with his hands all over you. I think words of affirmation are also important for him to receive, so he loves hearing you tell him how much you love and appreciate him.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He can become friends with anyone at any time. He is a yapper. And with all his random facts in the back of his brain I think he can find common ground with just about anyone. If on the odd chance he doesn't, he's more than happy to listen and learn. As a friend, there is nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe and happy. He would make sure to check in all the time and would be happy to do favours, anytime you need. I think in a best friend he needs someone to have serious conversations with, but also have fun with. He loves to have a friend he can truly open up to about his childhood or anything he's feeling, and of course will listen to you in return.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

CUDDLER ALERT!!! BIG MAN BABY ALERT!!!!! He loves physical touch, so cuddling is one of his favourite ways of showing affection. He would cuddle with you in any place and any position but there's something about being little spoon that hits so hard, especially after a long day at work. He also loves laying on his back with your head on his chest and vice versa so he can lay on your tits<3

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

This man owns a fucking APRON!! He is in his element in a domestic little scenario. He wants nothing more than to start a loving family and create a safe place with his partner. He definitely likes cooking more than cleaning, but he's fair, and will divide cooking and household chores pretty evenly.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He's been to therapy, and we've all seen how his other relationships have ended. He now knows the importance of communication, so I think there would be a lead up to a break up. He wants nothing more than to work it out with you, trying to talk out the issues, but if there was no plausible solution, he would sit you down and have an honest, but respectful conversation about it.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He wants to be married so bad!!! He can't wait to find the right person to settle down with. He loves seeing all the happy couples he works with, and he can't wait to add someone to the 118 fam. I think the timeline could go two ways, he's pretty impulsive, so I could definitely see him proposing within a year of dating (if everything is going exceptionally smoothly). The other way it could go is him waiting like, a weirdly long time. He's a bit nervous about you saying no, so he holds off (even though he imagines you with a ring on your finger very often), but one day just kinda blurts it out. Maybe you're laying in bed, talking and giggling and he's just filled with an uncontrollable joy, and he just has to speak his mind. After he says it he kinda freezes, looking at you nervously before you of course say yes and he's basically jumping for joy, hugging you and kissing all over your face and pulling the ring out of his closet that he bought but was too nervous to present to you in the traditional way lol.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's pretty gentle overall, both physically and emotionally. He's seen how he who shall not be named has affected Maddie and would never do anything to make someone afraid of him in that way (either a partner or a friend). He loves giving you soft touches, loving how you shiver as his fingers trail down your arms, your chest, your soft stomach, your plush thighs. He's also a man who has been to therapy, so he might be a little impulsive, but he has a lot of emotional intelligence, and always tries to ground himself and be as gentle as possible in any situation when it comes to people he cares about.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

King of hugs, truly. He LOVES them. It's a nice way for him to show how much he cares, and how much he loves you, so expect them often. If you're not one for physical touch, he understands, but sometimes he just can't help himself. Sometimes he needs a good hug to calm him down, or during the odd time that he has no words, he tries to put all his emotions into a hug. He's a bear hugger, he loves feeling your arms around him, your chest and soft belly pressing against him. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in as close as you can possibly get, resting his cheek on the top of your head. When he's really happy, his arms are going around your waist, lifting you up off the ground as you protest, fighting out a "put me down" through giggles, but still hugging him back. He will hear none of your protests, of course. Have you seen his arms? He works out. "Of course I can lift you, pretty girl"

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think he waits a while to say it. He's been in his fair share of relationships and is a little weary of people leaving, so I think saying I love you could be something that he's a little hesitant to say early. Once he does, however, it's coming out of his mouth about 30 more times before the day ends. Before he says it, there's plenty of other ways he says it without actually saying the words. "Text me when you get home." "Did you eat today?" "Here, let me help you with that." That sort of thing. To him, words of affirmation are important, he likes to hear how things are going, so him saying I love you is just his way of ensuring that he's in it all the way.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ok, I know what you're going to say, "but what about 7x04???" I know, but I think those were slightly different circumstances. I think before he gets into a relationship, and he knows that you only want him, he can get very jealous. If he sees someone getting a little too close to you, it takes everything in him not to physically get in between you and the person you're talking to (even though he sometimes will discreetly, brushing it off as him wanting to tell you something or show you something). He's scared that you'll choose someone else instead and leave him. He'll hang out with you more, asking more and more about this new person in your life, making sure that they don't have a better chance to get with you than he does.

If you are dating, however, I think he really tones it down on the jealousy. Instead of worrying about other people, he shows you how much he cares about you. If he really feels jealous, I think he may bring it up to you, as he's learned the importance of communication, and will try to come up with a fair way to solve this problem. He doesn't expect you to not talk to this person anymore, he more just needs to hear that you want him, not the other person, and that you are happy in your relationship.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I could actually write 100,000 words about this I think, but I'll keep it short(ish). This man THRIVES on kisses, if you think he loves hugging, good lord you're in for it. He puts so much emotion into his kisses, if it's not just a peck, and you're not expecting it, it'll leave your head spinning. He'll give you quick pecks all the time, but sometimes he can't help but wrap his arms around you and give you a long passionate kiss. Once he pulls away he'll kiss your face all over, loving how you laugh softly. He also loves giving you kisses on the top of your head when he hugs you, just letting you know that he's there and he loves you. His favourite, however, are neck and jaw kisses, both giving and receiving. He loves how you tilt your head back, sighing softly as he kisses you, melting against his touch. He also loves feeling your lips on him, squeezing your waist tighter as you kiss him, feeling so loved and cared for in that moment. Be warned though, if you kiss that man's jaw, he has no choice but to jump on you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Dear god he loves kids so much, we've all seen how he is with Jee, the baby from episode one, and that little girl stuck in the claw machine. He's full of energy anyway, so he loves running around with them, colouring with them, watching their silly little shows and singing with them. I also believe this man is a girl dad, and you WILL catch him wearing a tutu and a little princess crown on his head, looking comically large with a little teacup in his hand (with freshly painted bright pink nails, his pinky out, obviously) and sitting uncomfortably at his daughters teeny little table.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

If neither of you work, you take the opportunity to spend some extra time in bed, slowly waking up together as Buck has practically wrapped himself around you. When you finally drag yourselves out of bed, you go downstairs to make some coffee. If you're feeling fancy you'll make some waffles with strawberries and blueberries, but most of the time it's eggs or frozen waffles lol. You spend the morning quietly, just enjoying each other's company before getting on with your day, using it as a time of relaxing and being close to each other.

On days where one or both of you works, you'll still stay in bed for a few minutes, happily pressed against each other before you finally have to get ready for the day. You'll mostly spend your time separately as you get ready, whoever has more time that morning will brew the coffee and bring up that and something quick for breakfast to the other, with a soft kiss as a thank you. While you spend your mornings doing your own things to get ready, they're still full of touching and kissing as either of you pass each other, still wanting to spend some time together before you leave for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Buck loves cooking, so on nights where you both are home he'll cook a nice meal for you, sometimes letting you help. After dinner you'll both get into your comfy clothes, ready to spend the night winding down. We all know Buck loves learning new things, and has an unending amount of fun facts up his sleeve, so he loves to curl up on the couch with you and watch shows about his current hyper fixation.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think he'll reveal things slowly to you. He's not necessarily hiding it, he just brings it up as it comes up naturally in conversation. I think he also tends to reveal the more traumatic things about himself randomly, leaving you looking at him with your jaw dropped, unsure of what to say. He looks at you sheepishly, shrugging softly as you regain your composure, pulling him in for a hug/kiss before you let him explain, if he wishes to.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I think with you he has a lot of patience, but it also depends on what exactly it's about. If it's about your wellbeing he would definitely get upset quickly if you were brushing off your wellbeing in favour of work/other people/etc, but I think a lot of the time he tries not to get too worked up. Communication is very important to him, so rather than getting upset over small things, he chooses to have an in depth conversation about anything you may disagree about.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers a lot about you. It's like memorizing the silly topics he researches. He wants to know everything there is to know about you. He remembers a lot of little things, like your favourite flowers, or how you hate when people chew with their mouth open. He also knows you though, so a lot of the time, if he can't really remember something, he knows you well enough to take a guess and be mostly right. Your favourite snack slips his mind when he's getting groceries? He knows if you usually reach for sweet or salty, and he knows generally what you like, so if he had to guess, it would be one of your favourite snacks, at least.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favourite memory is the first time you spent the night at his place. When you woke up in his arms you looked so happy, eyes still full of sleep and hair a bit of a mess, but he thought you looked so pretty. You stayed in bed for a while, content in just being close to each other, exchanging soft kisses and giggles, before you got up. He wanted to show off his cooking skills, so he made your favourite breakfast, and you looked so happy at his kitchen table, like you belonged. He also noticed how you were a little bit surprised by his actions, not used to this treatment from other men from your past, and he vowed that he was gonna treat you so well that you would forget all about the way you've been treated by your exes.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is extremely protective of everyone in his life. If he had to choose to put himself into a dangerous situation versus you, he would choose himself in a heartbeat. I think in situations that are less life or death, he'd still be very protective, not wanting anything to happen to you. I don't think he'd be protective in an overbearing way, but he would want to make sure that you weren't in any kind of danger that he could've prevented.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in SO MUCH EFFORT!!! I don't think he puts in a ton of effort for every single date, sometimes just opting for a nice night in or something more lowkey, but if he wants to, he will do anything to make you feel special. I think he puts in a lot of effort into most aspects of a relationship: gift giving, communication, etc.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sometimes, when he's trying to get one of Bobby's recipes right, and he's feeling a little frustrated about it, he'll flop down on the couch instead of cleaning up the kitchen. You walk into the house, eyes falling on the dishes and food all over the counters, looking over at Buck, who smiles innocently. He comes over to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses you softly, which works in trying to get your mind off of it. He knows the disastrous kitchen drives you crazy, and he will get to it eventually, but sometimes he doesn't wanna get to it right away.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He puts in a fair amount of effort. He clearly works out, and enjoys being in as good a shape as he can be, but he also takes the time to look put together when he's in public. At home he cares less about looking perfect, but he still cares.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

This man YEARNS for a partner that he can experience life with. I think when he meets the right person he will definitely feel like a weight is lifted off his shoulders, realizing how good sharing a life with you is. While he does think it's important for you two to have lives outside of the relationship (your own friends and hobbies), he loves to have someone to come home to at the end of the day and know that he has someone rooting for him and vice versa. While he doesn’t necessarily feel incomplete without a relationship, he definitely thinks you bring out a side of him that he likes.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

HEAR ME OUT!

This man LOVES to be pampered!!! If you ever wanna have a little spa night with him, he is agreeing so fast. He'll let you wash his hair while you take a shower, he'll sit there while you put a face mask on him, and then he'll lay there while you massage his back, and he'll of course return the favour. He eats up all the attention you give him, and he loves how refreshed he feels after your little spa night. He'll feel so relaxed and would have the best sleep of his life with you wrapped in his arms after.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I feel like he hates it when people are late. The odd time, fine. He can’t blame you if you lose track of time or run into traffic. But if someone is consistently late, he can’t help but get that feeling that it’s because they don’t wanna be there, or that they don’t care about him. In his words, he is always the one that watches others leave, and being late makes him feel a little bit like someone leaving him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

We all know this man SNORES, which you were surprised about at first. How can this peaceful looking little guy be so goddamn loud?? It takes a while to get used to, but after a while, it becomes a little comforting. On nights that he's not sleeping beside you, it feels a little too quiet. He's also a big cuddle bug, he loves feeling you pressed up against him when he goes to sleep, knowing you're so close to him. If he woke up in the middle of the night and had somehow gotten out of his grip he'd be moving over beside you, draping an arm over your soft tummy before passing back out again.

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[dnpbeats]

more phagenda theories ft. analysis of dan's story bc i am painfully unemployed

hi besties it's me again. i'm reaching the point of waiting for the announcement where it's like that tweet about the plate of corn in encanto. i decided to go back and watch dan and phil's first videos to see what frames they used to see if it would reveal anything intersting and well... it kinda does, but also this theory falls apart a bit towards the end so. take this with a grain of salt this is just for fun i'm just yapping it's not meant to be that serious etc etc

so starting with phil's video blog, i believe the frame is from about 0:41 or at least very very close to there (based on the position of phil's paper):

(side note but i don't wanna get too off track: 2 seconds after this is when phil's curtain blows which like obviously is from wind but maybe in another universe it's some kinda sci-fi fantasy spirit ghost thing idk)

this section of the video is when phil is reading off a question from his linguistics exam. we know from "teaching dan to speak" that if youtube hadn't worked out and phil actually used his degree, he was gonna be a forensic linguist. okay so now, what frame is used from hello internet? this one isn't quite as easy to pin down but my best approximation is at 0:37, or at least somewhere soon after that (going off of dan's placement in front of the door):

this is the section of the video immediately after dan gets done saying some "really good friends" he's made recently persuaded him to "give it [making videos] a shot" which like, we all know means phil. when i say immediately i mean he finishes saying that at 0:36

i just personally find this intersting because like. for phil's video why pick a frame of him reading an exam when you could've gone with the thumbnail or him looking at the camera or something? with dan, i at first thought it was the very beginning of hello internet, but it's definitely not based on the way he comes into frame. instead it's right after he says that phil persuaded him to make videos... so this brings me to the ripple effect/alternate universe idea a lot of people have been throwing around. what if they chose phil reading his linguistics exam bc they are going to explore a universe where he becomes a forensic linguist? and of course, if he didn't do that, then dan wouldn't have made his video, because the part where phil persuades him to give it a shot never happened (this is where we get into dinok territory). ok so how does this fit with the other two shots we can see? (i'm not including something we want to tell you bc it would be impossible to know exactly where in the video that shot is from, and ofc i can't include the mystery one 💔)

(warning this is where this starts to fall apart lmao) now obviously the one from gtpwtw is from the yoga section:

how does this fit in with the alternate universe/choices theory? well, this particular moment is right when dan is asking phil "top or bottom," which obviously in the moment is a joke and it's a really inconsequential question. however, it is a question nonetheless, with two possible outcomes 👀

for saying goodbye forever... i quite literally have nothing, the shot they chose has nothing going on it's just them standing there as priest sean walks in at about 0:35 💀💀

anyway yeah, assuming they consciously chose what shots of videos to include, it might give more validity to the multiverse idea, regardless of what medium they present it in! ofc this could also all mean nothing and i am just grasping at straws (10x more likely) i just thought it was intersting :)

[dragonmama76]

Working on part 2 of Beginnings, but until then here’s a small interlude. You can read the first bit here Part One

“Are you excited to start high school?” Steve feels like every lame adult he’s ever known, but he’s been wanting to have this conversation for a while now, preferably before his gang of nerds walk unprepared into his alma mater.

“I mean, sure.” Dustin says. “They have an amazing media lab and the AP science teachers are supposed to be really good. It’s never too early to think about college! Uh, sorry Steve.”

“Alright, shut it. If I had a brain like yours maybe I’d be in college now.” Steve rolls his eyes affectionately.

“And I heard Nancy say there’s an after-school club for D&D, so that might be okay. I mean, it won’t be as good without Will there but…” Mike trails off, a frown settling on his face.

“Yeah, okay I guess your demons and dingbats thing could be good.” Steve feels vaguely uneasy. Something to do with that club...it probably doesn't matter.

“Well, I’m also trying out for the basketball team.” Lucas adds softly.

“My man!!” Steve grins and holds his hand up for a high five. “I’m around if you want to get some practice in before tryouts. And I've got an in with the coach if you want me to put in a good word for you.”

“Nice! I'm always up for more practice!" Lucas grins back matching Steve's enthusiasm.

"And nepotism," retorts Dustin.

"Okay, brain boy. I don't know what that is, but it sounds gross and we don't have it." Steve smirks and cocks his head before remembering this was supposed to be a serious conversation.

"Anyway...I just wanted to talk to you guys about sticking together and always having each-other's backs." Steve starts and Dustin, of course interrupts, "Obviously, Steve. Who do you think we are?"

"No, man, I know. It's just that it can be pretty intimidating and the bullying can be...more intense than what you're used to in Middle School." Steve conceeds.

"Like you'd know anything about being bullied!" snorts Mike, "You were the bully."

"Uh...well." Steve doesn't want to scare the kids, but he does want them to be prepared. "I was kind of an asshole for a while..."

"Ya think?" Dustin chimes in.

"Shut up and let me talk!" Steve says in his best mom voice. "I had to learn to be harder in school. My freshman year this older kid made me his target and it was pretty awful. It got so bad I didn't even want to go to school half the time."

"That really sucks, man." Lucas gives Steve a supportive look.

"Aw, what, did he call you names? Make fun of your hair?" Mike sneers. He can't help but run his mouth sometimes. He likes Steve well enough, but not like Dustin and Lucas do and he can't stand how they worship him sometimes. Steve isn't that great.

"Dude. He pulled a knife on me for like, no reason. I was fourteen."

"Woah" Dustin just exhales. "So like, is high school....dangerous?" All three boys are seriously paying attention now, eyes wide.

"Nah, not normally. Anyway, it got better once I was deep in with the guys on the basketball team. So I'm just saying. Find a group that has your back. And you guys look out for other kids too, all right? And tell ME if anyone bothers you. I've got a bat that can sort them out."

"Dude....you can't just nailbat a teenager." Dustin snorts.

"I dunno, squirt," Steve ruffles Dustin's hair and he yelps ducking away, "If I find out anyone is messing with you guys....well, maybe not the nail bat, but just...promise to tell me okay? I don't want anyone of you going through what I did."

"We promise." They all chime dutifully.

"Hellfire!" Mike shouts as they all turn to look at him like he's got three heads. "What?" he says, "That's the name of the club."

"Hellfire." Steve mutters. Why does that name make his stomach hurt? He'll probably remember later. Meanwhile he's glad his twerps are going to have a good support system when they start school.

Read Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Tag list (ask if you want to be tagged for the full part 2) @swimmingbirdrunningrock @phirex22 @lilpomelito @thaliaisalesbian

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

hi jojo! i want to thank you for making your hcs and how much happiness it brings reading them everytime ❤️ i'm autoimmune i unfortunately caught a bad round of bronchitis this week and was very curious if it isn't too much trouble to ask, can you write for izana (in the good timeline) with a partner that gets sick really easy how he would be attempting comfort them during these times?

Ah thanks!!! Oh no, I hope you're feeling a bit better though and will recover quickly from the bronchitis! But here's what I think Izana caring for a reader who get's sick easily would be like!

Caring for someone doesn't come naturally to Izana, he's never really had to do it much before. And if it's being completely honest with himself there's not many people he would agree to care for. The list only really contains his siblings (Shinichiro or Emma tend to take those roles anyway), Kakucho (who seems to never get sick) and you.

But despite all that he tries his best in caring for you because he hates seeing you sad or sick (don't tell the others, especially Mikey or Ran).

Insists you rest and that he'll take care of everything himself, he'll pick up any medicines, tidy the house, cook etc. Will carry you back to bed if you try to help too.

Although he says he'll handle things by himself, this frequently involves him telling the other S62 members and Kakucho to come round so that they can also help with the cleaning/ cooking.

Also gets a bit overprotective of you during this time (even more the usual). One time when the S62 was helping out around the house, Rindou decided to play some music but it was a bit too loud. Izana nearly threw him out of a window for "maybe disrupting your rest" (he wasn't serious with that threat but he was annoyed).

Tries to make either your favourite foods or foods he think will help you. He isn't always the best cook but he tries his best.

Sings you songs on his guitar more often whenever your ill, he knows you likes it.

Takes time to relax with you too, he knows being stuck resting isn't all that fun so he'll spend time watching movies with you etc (he won't even complain if you pick something he hates).

Also takes time off of work to make sure you're ok (he leaves Kakucho in charge and one day Kakucho comes round with a bunch of made get well soon cards from the kids).

He doesn't show it or rather he tries not to but he worries about you a lot during this time.

Sometimes he'll ask Shinichiro or some of the others for advice, though he normally phrases it as if he's not asking for himself.

Encourages you to vent a bit if you want about being sick (Izana himself complains a bunch whenever he's ill). Will sit and listen to you if you want that.

Occasionally talks about sickness as if it's a fight (you need to kick that bronchitis etc).

And lastly, he seems to have 0 fear of getting sick himself when contagious illnesses are involved. Continues to kiss you, hug you, stay close to you etc. Says he'd rather be near you and risk it then stay away.

[comingyourlugubriousness]

"Oh geez I'm so clumsy; how embarrassing! Huh, oh! You'll help me up? T-thank you!"

A BELLE OF DA BALL Yume for @starry-night-rose's Glimmering Soirée! I saw a lot of people doing this event and have been wanting to draw for it for awhile. Unfortunately, I've been sick the past week.

I went for a more femme design since my last two designs for Yume were more masculine; plus I just think dresses are more fun to draw. Heavily inspired by Cinderella's dress with my own takes.

During the event Yume isn't trying to be the belle of the ball themselves (that would be mortifying), they are actually heavily advocating for their brother Yuuta! (@bunnwich)

They are assisting the Prince's with their duties (mostly Deuce while avoiding Azul) while keeping and eye on Grim to make sure he's acting right! They're also taking pictures of everyone in their fancy clothes; partially bc Crowley told them too and partially for their own scrapbook.

VOICE LINES UNDER THE CUT:

Summon: You my friend, will be da belle of da ball!

Groovy: Everyone here tonight… don’t they kind of look like stars in the night sky…Hey! Don’t laugh! Haha! Was that too cheesy? 

Set Home: We’re all bedazzled up!

Home Idle: Azul tried to get me to sign some contract in order to” secure my brother's win”. Pff! Nice try, four eyes; do you think I’ve learned nothing?

Idle 2: When I walked up to Deuce and he gave me a big fancy greeting! He was so proud of himself; I didn’t have the heart to tell him he curtseyed at me…He’s not really cut out for princely stuff…

Idle 3: *whining* Kalim! Please don’t keep making me dance in these shoes! My feet are killing me *fake sob* who makes glass shoes anyway…

Idle Groovy:  Malleus came up to ask what was wrong with his Tamagotchi and everyone in the room gave us a wide berth. Is it that serious? He’s just some guy?

Home Login: Oh man…I don’t wanna think about how long it’s gonna take to clean all this glitter up. 

Tap: The Royal Sword Academy students keep coming up to greet me oh so politely. Something about it kinda gets on my nerves…

Tap 2: Hey, didja see Grim’s vest? I made it myself. It took me hours to bedazzle the whole thing!

Tap 3: Ugh…I feel like everyone's looking at me…maybe this outfit was a bad idea…

Tap 4: Hey, if you see Vil; don’t tell him I’m not voting for him. It’s nothing personal…! 

Tap 5: *sigh* I need a break. Hey, do you wanna go sit on the balcony with me? I’d prefer the company of the stars right now.

Tap Groovy: Oh! Wait right there! Let me get a picture of you in your outfit! You look amazing! Ready? Cheese!

Here is some sketchy draft for the dress too:

[bloodpen-to-paper]

Gonna throw my hat into the ring here, as someone who very recently had a streamer they loved and supported go down for serious allegations and crimes. Feel free to skip around my long ass response, I'll break it down into parts:

---Public Reception

Part of the reason I despise these situations is because people online don't ever know enough to make 100% accurate assessments, but will act like they do anyway (I don't care if its authoritarian, I want a bill where people on Twitter can't post about drama until after at least 5 minutes of being forced to critically think). Having said that, here's my opinions on how everything should go forward:

-Shelby shared her story in order to spread awareness on domestic abuse and the signs, so that others can read those signs and keep themselves safe (or leave an actively abusive situation they've been convincing themselves isn't that bad). That is the priority here, that is what people should be focusing on. If you make this situation about stirring drama with the other CCs, you're a dumbass and you need to stop posting. Give support to Shelby, uplift the voices of women like her sharing their stories, spread awareness on what domestic abuse can look like so everyone can learn, and wait for more information. Its that simple.

-CCs don't owe statements for conflicts they weren't involved in. Philza, Tommy, Quackity, Charlie, and other CCs close to Wilbur who aren't part of this don't owe you an explanation. They're people, they're most likely having to come to terms with the fact that a dear friend, someone who could've been like family, isn't who they thought he was. Have a fucking heart and cut it with the parasocial entitlement. I'm hoping Quackity will remove Wilbur from the Qsmp, but just like with Forever, he probably won't make a big announcement of it, and that's perfectly ok. I understand wanting to make sure you're not supporting a CC who would defend someone guilty of committing domestic abuse, but its still not your right to get anything from these people. If they share, they share. If not, then they don't. If you can't handle that, then leave.

-Having said the above, its worth noting that CCs aren't just a fun group of friends, they're coworkers. Much of what they say publicly and when they say it can be shaped or restricted by situations that can affect their careers or get them in legal trouble. You don't know these people personally or what goes on behind the scenes, its a network and you can't measure their responses the same way you would your own opinion piece. The CCs will always need to be careful about how they respond to an issue, and they will most likely respond in "safe" ways considering what's on the line. Not accusing anyone of anything, nor demonizing them for it, just something to keep in mind. They're human, but they're also working a job.

-If you have Lovejoy or Wilbur-related merch, DON'T THROW IT AWAY OR DESTROY IT. I've seen lots of people pointing out merch can be donated to thrift shops or shelters, and its more eco-friendly than burning or trashing. Remember, anything can be repurposed; a book, a hoodie, there's always someone who can find a use for it. Likewise if you want to keep your old merch, that's fine to. You can wear it if it brings you comfort, or if its something you just like the look of. As long as you're not supporting the source, you already have the merch so don't let people pressure you into thinking you're bad for keeping it if you're not ready to let go/throw away those $70.

---My Opinion Regarding His Response

Everyone and their cousin has been dogpiling on Wilbur's response (rightfully), but I think people online don't understand how public responses work when there's legal team and PR interference. The tweet for me had a weird lack of personal touch and emotion from the guy I've observed to be very personal in his writings, whether its his music or a community post about a life update (blah blah parasociality I know, but I'm letting you know the observations I've made of his behavior simply as someone who notices these things). He also never explicitly stated Shelby's name, rather saying "that person" (you even had the textbook 'black text on a blank white background' screenshotted response). Finally, there was a consistent standing on Wilbur 'not being aware of how the other person really felt' regarding his actions. What I'm trying to say is... y'all really gotta start putting two and two together. Its a textbook PR response. As in, I'd be surprised if Wilbur had over 50% involvement in making it because the wording is exactly how it reads when a response has been initiated by someone's lawyers rather than themselves. The reason he doesn't take more accountability and openly admit to having abused Shelby (other than the obvious public backlash) is probably cause his lawyers are banking on the feigning ignorance angle, that Wilbur didn't intentionally abuse Shelby and was ignorant to how his actions affected her. Its the best way to get him out of hot water on the legal side, because again, this isn't messy drama; its a genuine accusation of a crime. I don't think the response is tone deaf and unaware, I think its a deliberate and measured legal move not even fully created by Wilbur himself. This isn't to say I think he's innocent, but I do know that Shelby and others have brought up some serious accusations, and Wilbur is lawyering up as a result.

---Nuance

Prefacing this part by saying that things are not looking good for Wilbur in regards to what other CCs have brought up about him, and I fully believe and support Shelby, hence why I support that the community should start distancing from him and his work. But I would like to take this opportunity to look into the greater aspects at play. We are within a system that brings up men to do what they want without teaching them to be considerate and aware of the consequences. Men are taught their harmful behavior is perfectly fine, often at women's expense, which makes these situation a very different story depending on who's telling it. Its because of this that we need to critically analyze the system and how it causes men to turn out as they do, instead of giving an immediate opinion without any nuance.

There's a possibility that Wilbur is being genuine in not realizing how bad his actions were. There's a possibility he truly is a manipulative liar who knew exactly what he was doing. He could be a piece of shit. He could be genuinely trying to improve and do better. We don't know. I'd say its pretty cut and dry that he hurt Shelby, and for that I'm glad she's getting justice for herself and spreading awareness. But if we're to entertain the idea of redemption, we need to look at situations like these with nuance so that we can understand the "why". I'm not trying to justify Wilbur's actions or even give him the benefit of the doubt, I have no idea what's going on in that guy's head. I'm just putting this out there because its something I want everyone to think about, especially when it comes to topics regarding narcissism and mental health issues. Don't support him or Lovejoy, just keep something like this in mind for the future.

---The Community/Now Displaced Fans

To everyone who's immediately telling Wilbur's fans (the ones that don't support his actions and are actively mourning no longer being able to enjoy his stuff) to just listen to other music or move on, and who are celebrating each negative new thing that comes out about Wilbur's current status, sincerely, shut the fuck up. You are completely lacking in empathy or emotional intelligence, and what you're doing is the last thing the community needs. Wilbur and his work could have and for many did get fans through some of their hardest moments, and losing that wonderful sense of community you get from streamers and their work (especially with the roleplay stuff) is awful. It fucked me up losing that after almost a year, for some of his fans its been even longer.

If you're a (former) fan of his, its ok to feel like shit. We're human, we get attached and we grieve losing something like this because that's how capable we are of loving. Take your time, as long as you know where to stand (supporting Shelby and raising awareness on domestic abuse), you're doing good. You can keep enjoying his characters and work and making content about it, separating the art from the artist (though don't stream his music from platforms that would give him the money, find a way to pirate it).

This sucks. I feel it as a casual fan who was once hugely into his content, I can imagine what its like for those who were huge supporters all the way up until now. You didn't do anything wrong supporting someone you thought was a good person, its just a thing that happens and its so fucking shitty. You ain't alone though, I know some of you have that knee-jerk reaction to avoid anything to do with him but reaching out to others in the community and actually processing it all is way better, you won't be bottling it all up. Don't be afraid to continue engaging with this part of your life until you're ready to move on from it in your own time, and be kind to yourself. From someone who went through exactly what you are now, trust me, you'll get through it.