#anyway thank you so much for this Anon !!

[heyimkana]

kana are u just making a multiverse of jinwoo's at this point?? how many do you have???? - 💸

Literally what I listed in the last ask you sent me LMFAOOO maybe around 20???

There’s also Homewrecker!Jinwoo actually, though not in the way you think 😏

It’s about reader who’s married and has a four year old daughter, but both of them are being abused by her husband.

One night, when her daughter got sick, she took her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. Coincidentally, that was the same night Jinwoo visited the hospital to give the Elixir of Life to Jinho’s dad.

Jinwoo, reader, and her little girl stepped into the elevator together. But then, the lights flickered and suddenly everything went dark. They were trapped inside the elevator.

The little girl started crying, scared of the dark. Let's say her father (reader’s husband) used to lock her in the bathroom whenever she misbehaved. She kept sobbing, “Mama, please! I’m scared! I was good, Mama, I didn’t do anything wrong!” Reader tried to calm her down (she was close to crying herself from watching her little girl broke down like that), but her daughter wouldn’t listen. She was too scared.

Then, Jinwoo suddenly did something with his magic (maybe he created a little orb of light with his mana) and crouched down to show it to her. He smiled, so gently, and asked, “Hey, you wanna hear a funny story?”

The girl sniffled and nodded.

“I have a friend who used to be a giant ant. Really scary. Sharp claws. Big wings. Thought he was the king of the world.”

The little girl looked at him, eyes still watery, but now curious. "Giant ant..?"

“Mm-hmm. But now he wears a tiny cape and thinks he’s a stage actor.”

Then Beru appeared—floating in the air, small enough to fit in Jinwoo’s palm—and dramatically declared: “Verily, ’tis I! Destined from the womb to smite all foes, conquer dungeons, and rule o’er all creation! And yet—oh, cruel twist!—I now spend mine hours painting yon royal sister’s fingernails! What devilry is this? From dark lord to dainty manicurist—fie, what a fall!”

The little girl giggled. “He talks funny.”

Jinwoo rolled his eyes. “He thinks he’s in a drama. But honestly, I think he just likes attention.”

The girl stepped closer, wide-eyed. “Is he your friend?”

“One of the best ones I’ve got.” He held out his fist. “Wanna bump?”

She did, bumping her small knuckles against his and Jinwoo smiled, gently patting her head. “And now you’re one of my best friends too.”

The girl smiled—like genuinely smiled—and reader wanted to cry because it had been months since she’d seen her little girl smile like that.

[keferon]

Just want to say that English is not my first language

According to the stories, the reason fairies cannot touch metal is that it is claimed that metal is unnatural and because fairies are a creature older than the human race and that their origin is from nature.

Which is something that is the opposite in the world of Transformers Which is made of metal and the creatures themselves are also made of metal

So maybe we can make it so that instead of metal, it's glass that's toxic to them. Because, like with metal things that need to be processed for use, glass also undergoes processing. And unlike with metal, glass completely changes in its final form and does not resemble its original form at all, which makes it more unnatural.

So that's my explanation for why blurr in fairy au should be allergic to glass. I'm sorry, but he is made out of metal. So it doesn't make sense that he wouldn't be able to touch the metal. Sorry if this part sounded rude

YOU KNOW WHAT :0 That is really interesting to think about. If all those robots aren't transforming into vehicles then they don't have windows built in them. Which means that glass can only occur as a hand made material for things. House windows and jewelry and..maybe food containers...what are those energon cubes made of? It looks like some kind of glass to me.

Which still means that windows are very much Blurr-proofed. And doors aren't unless they have some kind of fancy doorknobs. Hmmmm

.....also the classical image of "a fairy being caught in a jar" gets....uh... a whole new layer

[katnissmellarkkk]

🤒🛁🧖‍♀️

“Relax, my love,” Peeta whispers, his hand brushing my hair back, away from the clammy skin of my forehead. “Just lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Even in my delirious state, his words make my insides turn to mush, in a way I would have scoffed at not long ago.

But I’m too feverish to express my gratitude for him and all that he is. I’m too sick to verbalize my love and appreciation for the man before me, who is willing to tend to me in my weakest moments without a single complaint.

Instead I just whisper, “I want cake.” Even saying those three words takes every ounce of energy left inside my body.

He chuckles though, apparently finding me endearing. “I know, Katniss,” he says, still smiling, and the back of his hand strokes my cheek.

“Stop laughing at me,” I grumble before closing my eyes in exhaustion. My head feels like it weighs over a thousand pounds and even the dimmest of lights hurts.

“I’m not,” he promises softly, going back to stroking my hair. And I have to forgive him. I have to let the irritation go as quickly as it came, because he’s been far too good to me today.

I felt a little off yesterday morning. My stomach was sort of sensitive throughout the day and my head was beginning to ache by the time I laid down for bed. But when I woke up today I felt like I’d been hit by one of Thirteen’s military trucks or like someone had smashed me with a metal cylinder once again. I felt like I’d been poisoned even.

Next thing I knew, I was puking into the toilet bowl before I was fully conscious, everything from yesterday making its way back up with a vengeance.

And then, there was Peeta. My husband. My sweet, loving husband.

He found me crouched over the toilet, falling off to the side, still gagging violently even with a completely empty stomach. And it took him no time at all to snap into action. He crouched down beside me and pulled me into his lap, murmuring soft, quiet words in my ear and wiping my face with a wet cloth hanging on the towel rack. He scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing more than a flour sack and brought me back to bed. He laid down beside me and massaged my back, his fingers working their way up and down my aching spine.

When none of that helped, he still didn’t let my sour, miserable attitude discourage him. He helped me into the bath I’m still currently immersed in, pouring into the steaming hot water oils and herbs that supposedly help with a laundry list of ailments.

“Are you ready to get out?” He whispers, knowing loud noises hurt my ears and worsen the pounding in my skull.

“In a minute,” I mumble, squirming gracelessly into an upright position. My skin tingles as the cold air hits my shoulders and chest and I feel the gooseflesh raise along my spine. I had been laying flat on my back, with a towel beneath my neck and the water up to my chin for the last hour or so.

“What are you doing?” Peeta asks as I scoot towards him, folding my arms on the cold lip of the tub and laying my cheek down on my hands. Only mere inches from him now, our faces so close we could kiss if I wasn’t so infected and disgusting. Or maybe if I hadn’t puked almost a handful of times in the last few hours.

Even so, none of that seems to bother him at all. He leans in like it’s any other day and plants a tender kiss on the center of my forehead, his lips lingering there for a long moment.

“Mmm,” I hum as he begins rubbing my back in large, soothing circles. “That feels nice.”

“I’m glad,” he whispers again, and I close my eyes, enjoying his undivided attention. But I don’t need to look at him to feel the sympathy on his face. “I’m sorry you’re sick. Especially on your birthday.”

Of course the reminder sours me once again, causing me to scowl at his words. “I want cake,” I say again, my voice sounding more like a whine than a plea now.

And once again, infuriatingly so, Peeta bursts out laughing at me. “I know, sweetheart.” His hand keeps rubbing my back, as if that’s going to console me. “But that’s probably not a good idea.”

“It’s my birthday,” I remind him, because it’s the only defense I got.

In all likelihood I wouldn’t give him cake either if he had the stomach flu — or whatever my mother called it over the phone — but still. It’s my day. It’s about what I want. And if I want cake, then why shouldn’t I get it?

Okay so clearly being married to him for the last couple years has made me spoiled. But my head is killing me, my whole body aches, my throat burns, I’m somehow exhausted and restless at the same time, and all I want is that chocolate and cream cake Peeta has waiting downstairs.

“You’ve already thrown up four times today and it’s not even noon yet,” he points out, trying very hard to keep his voice even. And I know I’m probably not going to win this argument.

Instead of replying though, my scowl must turn into a pout, because Peeta’s face softens even more in response.

“Hey, come on,” he urges gently and leans over the lip of the tub to place three kisses on my naked shoulder and the back of my neck. “When you’re done in the bath, we’ll lay in bed and I’ll scratch your back. Play with your hair the way that you like. You can wear one of my shirts and I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.” His pointer finger and thumb massage the shell of my ear tenderly. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

And his words are so sweet that I almost resist the urge to poke him further. Almost. “Except let me eat my birthday cake.”

“Katniss,” he deadpans and rolls his eyes. But he’s not mad. He can’t be cross with me when I’m hurt or sick and I know this. And I use it to my advantage.

“What if the cake is dry by the time I’m well?” It’s ridiculous but the thought actually depresses me.

“Then I’ll make you a brand new one,” he immediately promises, tipping my chin up to look at him. “I’ll make you three brand new cakes if you quit, okay?”

“Fine,” I huff, wanting to cross my arms for effect but too depleted to even bother.

“Come here, grumpy,” he murmurs after a moment and takes both my hands in his. And I don’t have any more energy left in me to resist, not even for my petulant desire for the dessert that has my name on it — literally — and I let him wrap me in a towel and then collapse onto his lap.

“I’m not grumpy,” I mumble, burying my face in his shoulder, my eyes shutting immediately as the light seems to grow brighter overhead.

“Okay,” he whispers agreeably, and kisses my wet hair. “I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too.” My voice sounds like a rasp, like I’ve been eating concrete and rocks.

Peeta smiles a little, his mind on the same wavelength. “You sound awful.”

“Thanks.” I glare at him but he probably doesn’t notice.

Instead he takes my chin in his hand again and tips my face up towards his. “Happy birthday, Katniss,” he whispers and presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss.

“You’re going to get yourself sick,” I croak out, but incline my face towards his again, always wanting more.

“I don’t care,” he dismisses easily, leaning down to connect our lips once more. “It’s my wife’s birthday. I will kiss her all I want.”

And that’s all the encouragement I need. “Well in that case, I want more.”

“Oh you do?” He teases, pulling back a little to lift an eyebrow at me.

But I remain serious. Or as serious as I can be with a hundred and two fever. “I want you,” I whisper simply, before burying my face into his neck and planting a kiss right on his pulse. “I always want you.”

[send me an emoji and i’ll write a tiny micro story in honor of katniss’ belated birthday]

[souvenir116]

the way Charles grins and turns his head away everytime he catches Max looking at him while Max tries to act indifferent... something so high school coded about them

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2

summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.

content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)

author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)

» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.

you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.

“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.

“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”

» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.

when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”

“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”

» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.

» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.

» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.

“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.

“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.

jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”

soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.

“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.

“he is in love, boy.”

jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.

“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.

jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”

“i don't want to say it.”

“please?”

“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”

“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.

» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.

» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.

» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.

you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.

heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”

“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.

heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.

“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”

“but you were-”

“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, “see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.

“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.

“fuck you.”

“language, boy!”

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[richter-kale]

batlantern, but it’s canadian (hal) and american (bruce) in the 2025 nhl, and they’re throwing hands nonstop like it's 1812

just a scribble but like do they know it’s legal now

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[fairylando]

The way Lando (and Carlos) immediately go back to each other after having a hard time and being down needs to be studied. They probably find comfort in each other due to the fact it reminds them of much simpler days aka their McLaren era. They’re soooo Call it what you want by Taylor swift coded

this is exactly how i look and feel like whenever they try to convince us that they're "just rivals" and nothing more until one of them retires, and then go and do this everytime.

[cry-ptidd]

Despite the fact that the beginning made us believe that Alucard and Seras as a bond would be at the core of the story, they ended up interacting meaningfully way too little. So I would definitely have changed that.

It's another chance to show some kind of development for Dracula himself this way. Because when he turns people into vampires, he either isolates them like an undead Bluebeard with the three sisters, or instantly abandons them and let them fend for themselves so he can move on with new thrills, like he did with Lucy. That surprised Van Helsing himself, because he thought Dracula would come back for her, and even guarded her tomb for that scenario (and left a note in case he gets killed), but he never showed up. Lucy ended up having to wander around confused, catching children and giving them awkward bites that doctors thought were from rats. And then even when he does the whole binding "flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin" with Mina, once again he left her and declared her duty now is to turn Jonathan and the men into his jackals. And that when he needs her as a companion and helper he will call her mentally so she'll cross a land and sea for him. For his deadbeat ass. If you want me to see any change from the past then I would like him to be with Seras meaningfully instead of having her deal with being a vampire on her own and a frankly inexperienced woman.

(And while this is Dracula-based, in my defense the manga started it, if they didn't want me to look at the story under that lens they should have made Alucard and the Hellsings OCs.)

I agree with ALL OF THIS. You put it perfectly. And now I will go into a rant of analyzing Alucard and Seras because of this.

Mini Essay of Alucard, Seras and fledglings

At the beginning of the manga we have small bits of Alucard teaching Seras, like the shooting range,

Her third eye, (amazing shot on the second page btw)

Then him just telling her to go apeshit and aim for a ghoul's head, which he interprets as her coming to terms with her new unlife instead of the violent, bloodlust-filled high that newly turned vampires seem to get in the story. (The difference being that when Seras comes to, she's disgusted with herself. The second time, because she's not skewered by bayonets.)

And then he acts like she's got it all. The only other time I can recall him helping her is when he reminded her of her third eye against Zorin. As much as I adore Alucard he's fucking idiot of a teacher.

Seras is just like Lucy — he turns her on a whim (you can't tell me Seras is the ONLY human he found that has determination and survival instincts) then lets her roam around. The only reason Seras isn't as confused and wild as Lucy is because Alucard HAS to teach her — and even then he does the bare minimum so she doesn't die. When Seras is attacked by Anderson, he doesn't even try to shield her physically and lets her fight on her own so he can have a dick measuring contest with Anderson. Then, when THAT goes array, his solution is to make her drink his blood — which is both very respectable imo and quite smart, as she then would be powerful enough to at least flee and wouldn't be shackled by him. Except he'd still let a 20 something newly undead woman into the unknown — no fucking wonder Seras sticks by his side. That poor girl is scared shitless and had her whole world flipped upside down in like 20 minutes one night. Then he gets mad because he doesn't understand emotions beside pride, bloodlust and anger and whatnot. Though he still praises Seras when she's not around to hear it.

Though, anon, I have to tremendously thank you for this ask, because now I understand why Alucard's such a fucking deadbeat with Seras. He's just so damn irresponsible with every one of his fledglings and everyone whose lives he ruined. As Dracula, he underestimated humans and overestimated vampires– he was so used to having dominion over his land that he thought that anyone would bow to him and, if he infected them with vampirism, obey him without hesitation or resistance. Then, he got beaten and had his worldview and pride knocked down a couple pegs, and then seemed to try and nourish relationships a bit more— as long as they proved worthy in his eyes.

Alucard's vision of "teaching" Seras is extremely minimal, and he gets mad when he doesn't get results within one month of practice, or when she doesn't embrace her monstrosity yet (something I bet Mina did that annoyed him immensely too, considering that's why he got got). It's, however unintentionally, an excellent way to analyze Alucard's way of interacting with others: when it comes to genuine emotional intimacy, he seems to know fuck all. That might also explain why Dracula treated Jonathan the way he did– curiosity, fierce possessiveness, then biting and leaving him to the sisters to most likely become a vampire too so he can keep him.

We needed way more interactions between Seras and Alucard. They're connected in a way that only him and Integra are; she depends on him for everything basically. And he has no idea how to deal with her because she has the opposite of his way of seeing things: she wants to stay with him because she seems to genuinely enjoy his presence and finds him to be a person of comfort instead of just her master, she only uses violence if she has to (and even then it comes with reluctance), and comes to see those with that power-battle-glory mentality as kind of childish. She cherishes relationships and the people in her life instead of seeing them as a hierarchy of who to obey, live next to, and who to kill.

I think Seras shouldn't have gone along with the whole "master" shtick from the beginning. She's a normal late 90s young woman, ain't no way she didn't find having to use that honorific at least a BIT weird. I would've adored if we got more everyday interactions in the beginning where he has to remind her what to call him and she's just generally very awkward in her new environment despite her abilities. It would've been great to get more attached to the characters and would also have quite some comedic potential.

Another thing I would've loved to see is her possibly flustering or throwing off Alucard by being just nice. He lives in a world of kill or be killed and might makes right and whatnot, with a fierce militaristic mindset and respects hierarchy above all (even his view of humans has the "worthy ones" and the "unworthy ones"); to see her being not only kind to him, but see her actively try to connect and bond with him in some ways would probably surprise him. It's not something you'd do to achieve a significant goal or her trying to get a favor or her obeying his commands like the servant she's supposed to be; Seras just seeing him as part of her close circle and someone she trusts (an entire essay could be written on this idea alone, might do it later) and wants to see happy and someone to be with would be JARRING to him.

Even during the whole hunt for Millenium deal. We could've gotten them having alone time or her seeking out Alucard because the idea of a war really stresses her out. We had an abominable lack of Alucard's emotional reactions when it comes to other characters aside from the end where he wept for Anderson and when he said his goodbyes to Integra. Seras of all characters really deserved to get some reacting from him. Because the moment he bit Seras, no matter how he envisioned it to go, he had someone he was responsible to care for.

[hodangelphoenix]

Heres my awesome art request:

Draw Martlet from UTY clothes-swapped with Ceroba :3

Also very kind of you to take requests!! Only draw if your feeling like it no pressure X3

I dones it :>

Yaey!

second version and doodle under the cut

Second version! They kept their colors

Doodle (from me trying to figure out what to do)

[q1ngqve]

idk if you take requests but like..........

dr ratio x bratty gf,,,, perhaps a bit of daddy/sir kink as well,,,,,,,, you're really good at writing him like i literally luv your work :3

(btw sorry if this isn't allowed)

ANON THIS IS SO (>/////<)♡

CW; fem! reader, implied relationship, bratty reader, sir kink, manhandling, murder, choking, knife play, fear play, biting?, vaginal penetration (with the knife & his dick), orgasm denial, slight degradation but he calls you pretty <3

do not, I repeat, do not act like a brat when you are with your boyfriend, unless you want to be completely and absolutely destroyed by him, verbally and physically. but where’s the fun in being good when you know how thrilling it is to rile him up?

veritas ratio’s eyes narrow as you prance around the room, giggling at something this random guy said, slapping him lightly on his arm. he’s not exactly one for jealousy, but when you’re so oblivious to the way other men are looking at you in your short skirt has his head going fuzzy with irritation.

truth is, you know exactly what you are doing. your boyfriend has been so caught up in his research the past few days he hasn’t had much time for you, and your fingers just aren’t enough to satisfy yourself. so consider this as punishment for not giving you the attention you needed.

the man’s lips graze your earlobe as he leans in, whispering something flirty that makes you sick in the stomach. you hide your face in his chest, acting as if you’re embarrassed, and wrap your arms around his waist.

before the man could slide his hands down your back, you were pulled away harshly by someone from behind, a small yelp leaves your lips as you’re dragged away and out the bar, tripping over yourself with almost every step from how fast he was walking.

your head whips up when the two of you finally stop, only to find your boyfriend glaring down at you, his hair tousled and brows furrowed, clearly displeased with your actions. you lock eyes with him, and a shot of electricity runs up your spine — ah, there it is, that delicious feeling of being hunted.

“get in the car.” and he’s gone.

you watch from your seat as he walks out of the bar ten minutes later, hair slightly wet, blood splattered on his jaw, his strides long and angry, and you feel yourself sink a little deeper into the leather seat.

silence fills the air as he drives, the tension so thick you could barely breathe. why is there blood on his face? did he just murder someone? oh god, it better not be that guy from before…did you just accidentally help in ending an innocent person’s life? you feel your body shake as you watch him from your peripheral, his jaw and shoulders relaxed, which is worse than when he’s mad and showing it.

you’re immediately dragged out of your seat when he stops, carrying and dropping you onto the hood of the car. his touch is gentle as he runs his fingers up to your chin, gripping at it harshly and forcing your head to tilt up uncomfortably to look at him.

your eyes adjust to the dimly lighted empty car park, legs closed shut as he towers over you, his shadows ungulfing your own on the hood. “what is that?” you break the silence with a stutter, your eyes flitting between his other hand and his face, body tensing at the sight of a bloody knife in his grip.

the man before you smiles softly, something he rarely does, so you know this is gonna be bad. “you like making me angry?” your lips part slightly at his question, knowing the answer is yes, but his aura is so terrifying that nothing leaves you other than heavy breathing.

his other hand grabs the underside of your knee, pushing your legs apart as he steps between your legs before leaning down even further, chuckling when your breath hitches at the intensity of his stare.

he flips your skirt up as he runs a finger up your already drenched underwear, the slick sticking to the pad of his finger. you squirm backwards when he lifts the knife, twirling it in his hand like a toy. “no— what’re you going to do with that?” the bloodied knife glistens under the dim white lights, and you swear his eyes turned a shade darker as he runs the tip down your neck, reveling at the sight of you trembling beneath him in fear.

“teaching you a lesson.”

your legs twitch involuntarily when the sharp blade reach between your legs, whines escape your lips as you feel it press softly against your entrace. tears sting your eyes, every inch of your body is telling you to run the moment he presses in harder, the thin fabric of your lace panties tearing immediately.

“‘m scared…”

veritas ratio laughs, the sound cruel and deep, straight from his chest. “this is punishment,” smirk returning to his face, making him look like a devil in disguise, “for acting like a brat.” a strangled gasp leaves you when he plunges the knife handle into your pussy, your walls tightening around the rubber like a vice.

oh god, there’s a knife in me, was all you could think of before he fucks it into you again and again, the rough textures rubbing deliciously against your gummy walls. the adrenaline heightening your senses, making this feel better than it should.

“you wanna act like a brat? wanna be a little slut and flirt with every guy you see? go ahead, be my guest. your boyfriend’s jaw finally clenches, allowing his anger and jealousy to take over as he bites at your collarbone, the stinging pain has you scratching at his biceps. “‘m sorry!” a flurry of apologies fly from your puffy lips as you cry from the pleasure and humiliation of having a knife making you feel like you’re in heaven.

“sorry, what?”

“sir— sorry sir!”

calling him ‘sir’ seems to bring out his animalistic side because the knife clatters on the concrete floor instantly, before being replaced by his dick. the air is knocked out of your lungs the moment he slides in, so long and thick, stretching you out nice and wide under him like a toy.

another whimper leaves you when he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly at the sides, successfully controlling the amount of air leaving and entering your lungs. panic fills you as you claw at this hand, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall.

“take it,” his other hand reaching down to circle your clit, “like the pretty little slut you are.” black dots fill your vision as you clench around him, getting off of everything that is happening to you.

your boyfriend groans above you as he cums, warmth engulfs you while he continues to pound into you, riding himself down from his high. “sir, ‘m close— please!” you manage to say breathily, your hips bucking into his on its own accord, chasing your high.

veritas ratio steps away in an instant and your eyes fly open at the empty feeling of your core, seconds away from your orgasm. “wait, no!” he flips your skirt down before kissing you roughly on your lips.

“only good girls get to cum.”

⭒ A/N — not proofread yet!

[aelswiths]

Aelswith saving Eadith (aka Aelswith FINALLY getting to kill a man)

Requested by Anonymous

[luminique]

HEAR ME OUT, one sided love?? Imagine s/o doesn’t like lighter back, being oblivious about lighters feeling and only see lighter as a friend meanwhile lighter is so MADLY in love with them and is aware of s/o not liking him back but he can’t help it because you’re the only one that makes him feel this way even if his feelings aren’t reciprocated… they’re so doomed think about the potential angst!! 🫤

lighter isn’t perfect. his body is littered in scars of his past, his actions are solutions to mistakes he had made before. to say that he deserved something as rewarding as love didn’t sound right to him, but oh, would it feel right if it was from you.

it was definitely not an immediate fall, rather it was slower like starting a fire. you bring the materials you require, some wood and a starter. it’s difficult to get a fire going, even he knows that with his lighter in hand. his hand gets warmer the longer the flame is out but it doesn’t compare to the accidental grazes of your hand against his gloved ones.

he had poked you once with the spikes on his gloves. the look on your face when you brought your hand up to rub it while you apologized for it. why were you apologizing? every soft “sorry” that came out of your mouth was like sprinkling water onto the fire. best to get fresh firewood so that it doesn’t go out.

ensuring that the fire is a consistent flame is also important to prevent accidents. accidents like playfully taking off his sunglasses and putting it on yourself while imitating him. somehow, that didn’t cause the fire to go out, in fact, it made it burn even brighter than before. the redness on his face when he watched you was comparable to the orange and red hues of a fire.

he stayed close to the fire, close to you. feeling the warmth of love on his skin, finding it calming but also terrifying. it doesn’t rain often in the outer ring but that doesn’t stop him from worrying that it would all of a sudden. so he lies awake at night, thinking about all of the possibilities, the what ifs and its outcomes.

he thought he had considered everything. from keeping the fire from going out, to ensuring it was a stable flame, to tending it slowly and carefully. what he didn’t consider was getting too close to the fire, burning through what he thought was tough skin.

he was too focused on trying to maintain a certain personality, not quite showing his interest in you. so when caesar was talking to you about her love stories while everyone was hanging around the bar, his heart rate increased. just like how consuming alcohol affects one’s mental and physical state, so does it affect a fire. maybe someone poured his drink into the flames as he watched it burn even brighter than before, making him eavesdrop on your conversation.

but a large flame meant a higher possibility of getting burnt, and soon he saw the burn marks on his skin. as you continued to talk with caesar, the longer he let the fire burn him. how you had said that real love wasn’t like the stories, how you seemed disinterested in romance, how you had believed that no one was interested in you. at that moment, he ended up getting more drinks from burnice, hoping it would soothe the roaring flames within him. he drank so much and fell asleep to the soft crackling of the fire, your voice acting as background noise.

he woke up to the coldness of the bar counter pressing on his cheek. the fire had been put out by you when you tapped on his shoulder. the memories of last night flooding into his mind like water. maybe it was all some nightmare and you did like him back, but the sudden coolness of your touch made him realize the reality of it all.

you didn’t like him, and not because he did anything wrong but because he didn’t do anything in your eyes. you were feeding the fire in his heart and he mistook that fire for your heart too. he sat up straight, took one look at you and shook his head. you still cared for him, came with water and woke him up gently. he never intended to get so severely injured because of his own growing feelings for you.

his own feelings, you didn’t even know he had any for you. the pile of ashes, you both stared at it and yet only he knew that fire existed. the flames had misled him, danced around his heart that craved for you, that only asked for you as its fuel. now all he can do was sit next to what was once a big fire, feeling the cold on his skin despite the layers. no warmth left, no light left, no love left.

[suusoh]

would be funny, if Nina had a gf, and due to Johan's tendency to see him and nina as the same, he'd drop by casually, disguised or not, while nina is away. What's wrong? Nina is him and he's Nina! There's no complications with kissing him! You're basically kissing his sister! (Eaten ask)

your brain anon...........like EXACTLY. exactly. God this is sooo hot and weird which is johan's brand. He is karl marxing the fuck out of his sister's girlfriend. What do you mean "meet my girlfriend"? You mean meet OUR girlfriend. right? (tw: nonconsensual kissing, yandere)

Could you imagine bidding your girlfriend, Nina, goodbye after she spent the whole evening at your place? You whine and beg her to stay longer, clinging onto her, but she rolls her eyes playfully and insists she has to go.

She gives you a loving parting kiss on your lips, then plants even more– on your nose, cheeks, and finally your forehead– before she reluctantly pulls away. Any more, she jests, and she won’t be able to leave.

"You know I hate leaving you like this," she laughs softly. "But don't worry, I'll make up for today once my exams are over. Okay?"

She gives you one last final kiss before finally leaving, waving at you as she walks down the street.

You sigh and close the door, already missing her.

You really love Nina, but sometimes it feels like she doesn’t have much time for you. You understand she has her exams, a part-time job, and aikido training, which doesn’t really leave much left for you. Still, you can’t help but feel a bit greedy, wishing she’d at least dedicate a part of her to you. You're her girlfriend, after all.

You sigh one last time. No use.

She’s already spread too thin, and you know if you tell her your concern, she’ll worry and try to double her efforts to make time for you. No way in hell are you going to give her any more stress in her life. Although today was just half a day together, you're grateful. Even if it left you unbelievably craving, aching for more…

You hear a soft knock on your door. Is it Nina? Did she forget something? Oh, your prayers have been answered. You just wanted one more second with her. You open the door immediately, an excited smile on your face.

"What did you forget this ti-"

"Missing me already?"

You freeze, standing dumbfounded. In front of you is not, in fact, your girlfriend, but a tall, blonde man smiling softly at you.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I don't— Do I know you?" you ask, trying to stay cool. He must have the wrong house to ask something like that so proudly. You’ve never met him before.

His smile doesn’t falter at your question. He continues looking at you, his eye contact unwavering.

"You do." he answers, calmly leaving no explanation, still smiling softly.

You’re getting nervous. He keeps staring and smiling at you. You try to get a good look at him. Is he a mutual friend? An old classmate? A person you pissed off once? You’re at a blank. Though… the more you look at him, the more you notice how similar he looks to… to your… what the hell.

Why does he... look... a bit like Nina?

No. You chalk it off. He just has blonde hair and blue eyes, and the fact you’re missing your girlfriend terribly doesn’t help. But even then, their facial features strike a matching resemblance. It’s a bit uncanny.

You let out a nervous laugh and smile sheepishly at him. "Look, I’m really racking my brain here. Have we met before? I’m really sorry if I can’t recall…"

You give him his cue to introduce himself, to remind you who he is, to be offended at you forgetting—anything! He’s just standing there, staring down with that same smile. Your eyes dart around, seeing if this is a prank. A small uneasy pit forms in your stomach.

A beat passes by. You still wait for his reply.

You can't help but start feeling creeped out. Stupid. Always ask who’s there before opening the door. Just ask him what he wants with you and get it out of the way.

"Hey uh, I-"

He kisses you, his lips softly crashing against yours, hands gently cradling the back of your neck. He’s not forceful, but his hold is steady. You squirm and try to break free, but he quickly shushes you and holds you closer, entrapping your lips in another long kiss.

You think of quickly think of biting him, but he gently pulls away right before you can go through with the thought. His hands come up to tenderly cup your face, his thumb softly brushing against your cheek as he looks at you.

Your vision begins to blur from your tears, your legs wobbling from the fear of the situation.

"I don't know you!" you practically scream out. Your desperation kicks in as you continue to panic. "P-Please. please. please. I'm sorry. I don't know you. I don't… I don't… please… I-."

You cry softly, pleading with him. He just continues cradling your face in his hands, looking at you with that godawful eerie smile. He leans back in, slowly murmuring,

"Shh…"

He continues peppering kisses all over your wet cheeks. "You do know me," he whispers, kissing your nose. "And you know I need to make it up to you," he says, kissing your forehead. He hums softly and leaves another final chaste kiss on your lips.

"And you know I hate leaving you like this."

[ectopuppy]

Jake English asked for by: @plummymcplum Lydia asked for by: anon Mabel asked for by: anon Tucker asked for by: @strawberrycamel

im having a lot of fun with figuring out this art style thanks for the character suggestions!!

also i did like a emo/gothy tuck idk why i was just feelin it teehee