#because that's definitely the first time that ever happened

[thoughfullovercreator]

Sorry not sorry. But some people need to read this.

Tw: when I am employing the word « delusional » I am not referring to the medical definition of it.

What I am going to be saying is going to be disliked by some. But I don’t care.

I am going to be talking right now about a phenomenon that I’ve been seeing ever since I started reading mangas and watching anime’s and it has always bothered me.

And guess what ? I am not the only one being bothered by that, which reassures me.

The problem is the following:

Each time there’s a genuine friendship between two male characters or even two females in a manga/anime, people dirty it by gluing on it, their own fantasies and making it somewhat romantic/sexual, by inventing a « sexual tension » between these protagonists.

Always happens in the anime/manga universe.

…and I am going to tell you why it’s a problem/bothersome situation for many :

The problem is that it renders the story less deep and genuine and more people are influenced in thinking that, a male character, by being nice to another male (same for females), is romantic or whatever.

Like some of y’all are sexualising everything. Get it together !

This is, most of the time (actually 99% of the time but okay), LITTERALY delusion because the authors have never, ever meant for their characters to be viewed as anything but genuine friends/acquaintances..

It distorts the story for nothing and, in my opinion, it is disrespectful to the creators of the manga, to just take their characters and create a quiproquo on it. Sorry not sorry to say it.

As an example, let me take the « Dazai x Chuuya » fans.

The readers go as far as to totally disregard the fact that, Dazai, since literally the first episode, has implied that he was not attracted to guys. On top of that, he’s kinda depicted as the guy who likes women. Never ever was anything that would make him attracted to Chuuya as a male.

(It also happens for JJK and others… )

Therefore, you’re disregarding the genuine and complex aspects of a potential friendship and understanding between them, to glue on it what you would have wished it to be : a romantic or sexual attraction. It’s a projection of what YOU would have WANTED it to be.

It is actually immoral to distort a character’s sexuality like what ?! It becomes a habit and people do it also for celebrities. It’s kinda going too far.

It’s not for you to decide.

When it’s « not a big deal » for some, it could actually represent a big deal for many. And make many people uncomfortable.

Respectfully :

You wanna do your fanfics ? NO PROBLEM really ! be our guests ! but do it in the context of a fanfic, after putting on a disclaimer, as a respectful gesture for the creators behind mangas !

(On the other hand, when people write « character x reader », it doesn’t distorts the original story cuz Y/N just doesn’t exist).

BUT rubbing it down our throats without any context as if it was a general truth provided by the creators, that « these characters are in love/sexually attracted to one another » NO. Keep it for yourself or your group of friends if y’all agree on it.

Again, many many people feel as uncomfortable as me regarding this. It’s kinda also getting out of hands.

It’s getting out of hands especially when I see fandoms like the Black butler fandom where they imagine a « sexual tension » between Sebastian that is an adult and Ciel that is 13 !

Like it or not. I am not sorry for being respectful and realistic.

Some decency is needed :

Not everything is okay with what people are doing on the internet. You can have your « dirty thoughts » but don’t expose them, not everyone wishes to hear about it. Some things have to stay between you and yourself.

Kids/ teens :

And kids/teens (all those below 18) y all need to get off your phone a little and go play outside or meet your friends (for teens ig) if you don’t wanna end up in depression at an early age or with extremely poor social skills.

At least take a real book like ones at the school library and learn things. Instead of learning how to .. by reading explicit content cuz you never listen when we tell you that a certain one shot is +18.

Again, I am not sorry. I am pissed.

[vezpr]

------------------------ toxic. ]

SUKUNAxF!READER ☽☾ COLLEGE AU ☽☾ ONESHOT ☽☾ AO3

☽☾ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Gojo shows you a video of your boyfriend, Sukuna, making out with another girl at a party, so you decide to get revenge. Poor Nanami.

☽☾ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+MINORS DNI, smut, porn with feelings (not necessarily good feelings), sukuna x reader, nanami x reader, ft gojo for as long as I can stand him :b, human Sukuna, college au/ no powers, toxic/ mutually abusive relationship dynamics, cheating, spanking, hate fucking, face slapping, throat fucking, hair pulling, light choking, no aftercare, degradation, name calling, drug and alcohol use mentioned, size difference, oral sex, piv sex, I suck at tags

☽☾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

"Satoru, can you at least pretend not to enjoy this, please," you say, holding your phone away from your face as it rings. 

The man is glowing, his lanky frame sprawled across of one of the mismatched sofas in his apartment, one boot propped on a coffee table littered with the controlled chaos of his studies. He looks as if his head might actually explode with the force of unexpelled I-told-you-so's. "He's an asshole. I told you that before you ever hooked up, right? Forget him!"

"Damnit," you hiss, pausing in your frantic pacing long enough to redial your asshole boyfriend's number after being sent to his full mailbox half a dozen times. 

"Why don't you try cool down a little before you talk to him," Nanami says from the opposite side of the room where he sits hunched forward, elbows on his knees, watching you pace. Always the reasonable one. "Nothing productive can possibly come of talking to him while you're like this."

You shoot the blonde man a withering glare, but hit the end button on the call, shoulders sagging, chin to chest as you cross to his side of the room. "I know you're right, Nanami," you reply as you slump, defeated, onto the sagging cushion next to him. He clears his throat when you splay your legs and your knee brushes his. You lean your head against the back of the couch and turn your face towards him, lips pursed in a pout as you feel the stinging threat of tears in your eyes. "It's just that... right now, I don't feel like I can cool dow-"

You sit bolt upright as your phone buzzes in your hand. The screen lights up with his face, framed in soft salmon waves that contrast with the hard black lines of tattoos tracing the angle of his jaw. You've been together for a year, practically moved in together right away, and still, even the digital representation of his garnet eyes makes your heart stutter just like it did the first time you saw him. 

"Hey, I really don't think you should-" Nanami begins.

"Sukuna," you answer, rising from the couch and crossing the arm that isn't holding the phone to your ear over your ribcage, as if that will prevent your heart from beating out of your chest.

"Who are you with," he asks, apparently hearing Nanami, who continues to lecture you in the background. But, fuck, if the rasp of his voice doesn't make your insides squirm in a way they definitely shouldn't right now.  Why do you have to be so hopelessly obsessed with him?

You shoot your friend a pleading look and wave your hand at him. He sinks back into the couch, shaking his head, but he shuts up. 

"Who's throat did you have your tongue down last night," you demand, voice rising already. When your question is met with silence, you add, "Go- someone showed me a video."

"Nothing happened," he replies, his voice steady and calm, as if he were ordering a coffee, which really makes you start to lose your shit.

"Do. not. fucking gaslight me right now. It was you, I fucking saw-"

"I mean nothing happened after that. You didn't see a video of me fucking anybody. Didn't even hear about the possibility of me fucking anybody. Because I didn't fuck anybody. I mean, shit, I got home before you." He pauses and your heart starts to slow just a little. Maybe it really didn't go any farther than that.  Maybe this doesn't have to be a big deal... but then he opens his stupid mouth again.  "Couldn't stay hard because of the molly."

"Fuck you, Sukuna," you scream-sob, holding the phone under your chin. "Fuck you! If you were here I'd slap your motherfucking face so goddamn hard I swear to god!"

He laughs, of course. "Calm down, baby. I'm kidding. I knew that white-haired prick was watching my every fucking move. I just did it to piss you off after you left with that blonde guy that's always limping after you like a lost puppy."

You glance up at Nanami, wondering if he heard, but he is studiously examining his cuticles. Even Gojo looks uncomfortable as he busies himself with straightening the papers on his desk, his luminous eyes peeking at you through the platinum locks that have fallen over his forehead in the process.

"I left because you were so fucking high. Laughing at everything, grinding your teeth like a crackhead, going on and fucking on about how you feel like a god among men or somevweird shit like that. It's embarrassing as hell! I ask you to go to one little party-"

"Exactly, you bitched and moaned until I agreed to hang out with your loser friends - who just so happen to all be men that want to fuck you-" 

He is getting loud now, apparently loud enough for your companions to hear because Gojo, with a flourish of his wrist, cheerfully interjects, "I don't want to fuck you."

"Shut up Satoru," Nanami hisses.

"-It's like you get off parading yourself around them in front of me... but I digress. My point is that I don't know what the hell would make you think I would be willing to endure that shit sober."

"Oh, so now it's my fault you fucking cheated on me?"

He's quiet for a minute and you hear him sigh into the receiver. "I got a question for you. You didn't get home til late, where were you?"

"Well, I was hungry so we stopped to get something to eat..."

"For like... had to have been at least four hours?"

"I guess we lost track of time talking..."

"Talking. Okay. Well that sounds fucking fantastic, babe but-"

"Well at least I didn't tongue wrestle him in front of half the fucking campus!"

"You know what... I can't do this now, I'm at work. That whimsical motherfucker had all day to start this shit and of course he waited until I'm at work. When I get home tonight, we're gonna have a nice long chat. Maybe not four hours but..."

"I'm not going to be home when you get home tonight."

Another tense silence. "Don't fuck with me, babe. You really don't wanna do that."

"Don't fuck with me, babe!" You echo in a shrill, mocking tone. "You know what kind of people say that? 'Don't fuck with me?' Weak, scared little bitches. And you should be scared, because you're never gonna find somebody who will want your worthless, piece of shit ass like I did. Ever."

"Baby."

"Please fuck with me, babe, find out what fucking happens," you spit out before hanging up on him. 

When your phone vibrates, you're still rooted to the spot. You lift your shaking hands to read the message.

you better be there when I get home

You scoff. 

"Nanami, can I stay with you tonight?"

He had been watching you, but now his eyes slide away behind the glare reflecting off his glasses. "You really think that's a good idea?"

"Please? I don't want to be home and I don't want to be alone," you must look quite pathetic, because he nods begrudgingly.

"Great," says Satoru. "This man has been needing to get laid for decades."

"Shut up, Gojo," you and Nanami both say at once.  

Although he is the same age as the rest of your friend group, the man has his shit significantly more together than anyone else. He had skipped most of the partying, failing, switching majors, and the rest of the general fuckery and graduated first. Got himself a good job, something to do with stocks. He's got a mortgage, while the rest of you are struggling to pay rent. He's too good for the rest of you, truth be told. 

You look at your phone, as you had approximately every  ten seconds since you left Satoru's apartment, but nothing from Sukuna. He wouldn't be off from his job until almost midnight, anyway. Maybe he really doesn't care what you do. You pull down the menu from the top of the screen and hover your finger over the location toggle. Nah, let him suffer, you think to yourself as you decide to leave it on. Or come get me if he actually gives a fuck.  Sliding the device into your back pocket, you walk up the driveway to Nanami's door and knock.

Too good for you. But he doesn't seem to know it.

"Hey," you say with a tight smile when he lets you in. "I come bearing gifts," you hold up a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. There's actually another one in the trunk, just in case.

You're pretty sure neither of you are watching whatever movie is playing. You don't even remember what it's called.  Gradually you notice that he relaxes, softens into the couch, turns his head to look at you, smiles a little. You smile back. It's easy to just be with Nanami like this, quiet.

You do end up retreiving it after the first one is empty. The man is wound tight like a spring. And you swear he clears his throat everytime you accidentally brush against him grabbing food from the coffee table, or refilling you glasses. What does that mean? You wonder silently.

"You sleep with those on," you tease, poking his calf with a socked toe.

He looks down, "What my shoes? No." He smiles, warm. Tipsy maybe, both of you. 

You laugh softly. "Take em off. You live here, you know."

He shrugs and toes them off. "Happy?"

"No," you deadpan.

His smile falters and you laugh.

He lets his head fall against the back of the couch and rolls his eyes. Looks at you and smiles again. "I don't drink much," he says.

"I know," you scoot closer, knees pressing into his thigh. "You drunk?"

He looks down at the point of coat, then back into your eyes. "No. Are you?"

"Nope." You reach out and lift his glasses off of his face.  He lets you. Doesn't even clear his throat or look away. When you lean back to set them on the coffee table, you begin to lose your balance, but he catches you around the waist and pulls you back.

"You sure?" He asks, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

"I'm sure," you smile, reaching for his tie. "Don't you ever get comfortable?" You ask, loosening it. 

"Not really," he says, pulling you towards him. 

"Hm," you hum, straddling his lap as you pull the tie free from his collar. You smile at how nonchalant the two of you are, as if this isn't happening. Like he didn't pull you into his lap. Like you aren't brushing a blonde fall of hair off of his forehead as he looks up at you, honey eyes half-lidded. Like his hands haven't slid under the hem of your tank top, warming the skin of your back.

You're just friends. Yeah. Just talking.

His mouth is warm and soft, wine-tart. He smells like cedar and ocean salt. When you hear your phone ping softly, he's got a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to press his mouth into your neck, tongue gentle against the tender flesh. No teeth. Without looking you know the unique little tone means your device has been gps located. You moan when he pulls the strap of your tank top down and takes your nipple in his mouth. You hadn't worn anything under that. 

Oops.

You had been working on the buttons of his shirt, palms sliding across his pecs. He pulls away to let you slip it off. "I could take care of you," he says, breathless, as he loosens his watch and works his hands out of the sleeves. "You wouldn't have to ever have another day like you had today."

"I know," you say as you wrap around each other, mouths fastened together, moving like you have years rather than just the next handful of moments. Him the living sea, rolling over you, the shore, a dead thing made of dirt. I can take care of you, his hands whisper. Your atrophied heart clenches, and, for a moment, you wish it could be true.

A car door slams outside. 

He pulls away and looks at you, ugly realization dawning in his eyes. "Oh," he nods grimly. "I get it."

He sighs raggedly and shakes his head as pushes you off of his lap gently. His hands a soft suggestion, unlike Sukuna's demanding touch. You feet hit the floor just as the first splinters fly from the doorframe.

How many kicks, you think bizarrely of a little cartoon owl with a sucker. How many kicks does it take to break down Nanami Kento's door? Three. Three kicks.

You are frantically feeling in between the couch cushions for your discarded top when Sukuna shoulders through the broken door. 

"It was unlocked, jackass," you hear Nanami say, "That's gonna be expens-" then a couple of thumps, the soft crush of bone and cartilage, and the loud thud of a body crumpling to the floor.

Trying to pull Sukuna off of him is like trying to move a mountain. You pull at him and scream in your panic sharpened voice, "Please, Kuna, stop! Please stop! Don't hurt him!" Although, you can see that it's too late for that. 

You reel backward when he rounds on you, but you need not worry about falling. He catches you by the hair and pulls you up. He looms over you, his vastness swallowing you like his pupils swallow the blood of his irises in the blue flickering light from the television. He is every inch the monster you know he can be. "Don't fucking call me that, woman," he growls into your ear.

You crumple to the floor when he lets you go. "Been too soft on you, brat," he toes at Nanami's limp form before stalking to the coffee table. "Gonna have to re-educate you. Lucky i don't just fucking destroy you both." He picks up an empty wine bottle and hurls it at the TV. The crash has you flinching as the screen spiderwebs and the speakers sputter. His belt buckle clinks as he unfastens it and your cunt drools like pavlov's dogs at the sound. You wonder if he knows how completely he has you.

You watch wordlessly as he pulls himself out of the fly of his jeans and pisses all over the flickering set. He turns his gaze on you and tucks himself away. The leather of his belt hisses against denim as he pulls it free of the loops.

"Now what am I going to do with you," he says, stalking towards you, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily trailing the belt behind him. The grin on his face is cold and sharp as a knife edge. He must be feeling better already. 

He brushes past you and seats himself on the arm of the couch.  Elbow on the back of it, he leans his cheek against his fist as he looks down at you. "Come here," he says.

You look over at Nanami's limp form. You can just see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

"Don't look at him. He can't help you. Never could. Now, I won't say it again. Come. Here."

You begin to get to your feet.

"No," he says, eerily calm, and you freeze midway to your feet. "Crawl."

"Come on Kuna," you coo, voice sticky sweet. "I'm really sorr-"

"Shut the fuck up. Nobody wants to hear your sorry's. Now get over here."

So you drop back to your knees and start to crawl. You sway your hips and smile up at him, ever defiant. He snorts and shakes his head. "You are such a little slut."

"Stand up," he says, when you arrive at his ankles. Even seated as he is on the arm of the couch, he towers over you when you obey. 

"Strip," he says, then, "faster," when you are to slow to peel your clothes away. He leans forward and slides his fingers through your folds. 

"Wet," he says.

"For Nanami," you retort, only half a lie. You are still mad at him, after all. 

His hand flies so quick you barely see him move before the back of his hand connects with your cheek. Seeing stars, you're reeling backwards, but he catches you, draws you across his lap. The belt burns across the fat of your ass as he brings it down on you over and over in fast, hard bursts. Tears sting your eyes as you squirm and bite at your bottom lip, but he's strong and has little trouble holding you in place with his one free hand clasping your wrists together behind your back. 

"Told you not to fuck with me," he's growling, and your pussy clenches around nothing. You wish he would just fuck you already.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sob, "Please, please, please!"

Finally, he relents, the belt slithers to the floor. "Are you really sorry?" He asks, his voice softer now, some of the aggression soothed out of it by the burst of violence. "Actions speak louder than words, you know." You fail at biting back a moan as he suddenly shoves his fingers inside you, growling as he feels you clenching around him. "You want my cock?" He asks. Craning your neck you look up at him over your shoulder, nodding frantically.

"On your knees then," he says, releasing you. 

"You're a sick fuck, you know," he says as you crumple to your knees between his feet. "Might even be worse than me." He lets his jeans pool around his ankles before stepping out of them. Grasping the base of his cock, already rigid and leaking, he smacks it lightly against your cheek, smearing your feverish skin with precum. "That's why he-" he nods behind him at Nanami's unconscious body, "-could never do it for you."

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, which you drag along his tip murmuring, "can you take this off too-" you tug at the sleeve of his hoodie, "-I wanna see you."

He grunts and pulls it over his head, groaning as you pull his cockhead into your mouth, tongue tracing his slit, the ridge if his glans. You know that he is at least partly right, you are sick. But you wonder if he brings it out of you. Could you be different with Nanami? You think of his mouth on your neck, your hands on his chest.

"If you want to see me, open your eyes," Sukuna says, something jagged in his tone, like suspicion. So you look up at him, run your fingers up the fronts of his thighs to the dips of his abdominals as you take his cock deeper. Your eyes follow the lines of tattoos outlining his chest until you find his face, jaw slack, eyes heavy as he looks down at you.

You release his dick with a wet pop, sucking in air. "You're perfect."

"I didn't say stop," he grasps, fisting a hand in your hair, using his other to pry your mouth open unnaturally wide until you are drooling down his tattooed wrist, eyes shiny with tears as you look up at him. He slides his cock between your lips, controlling the angle of your head with his hands, sinking in until your nose is pressed against his stomach. "Told you to fucking be home when I got home," he growls, smashing ypur face against his groin so that you can't breathe.

You sputter and gag around his cock as he stays fully seated inside you. "Ssh, ssh it's okay," he soothes as his fingers wrap around the soft column of your throat, feeling the bulge of his length there. "Oh, fuck, baby, you are really lucky you feel so fucking good, 'cause you really fucking pissed me off," he moans as uses your hair to bob your head up and down on his cock until your jaw burns and tears spill out of your eyes. "You really are sorry, huh?"

You do your best to signal in the affirmative as he continues to fuck your throat, but you find you have little control at the moment, so you just hope he gets the message. When he finally pulls out, and stuffs the strings of drool that stretch between your lips and his cock back into your mouth with his thumb, you nod, gasping. "I am. I am sorry," you manage to sob out in broken syllables around his prodding fingers.  Although your brain is a little too wine blurry and cock drunk to accurately recall exactly what you're sorry for. And weren't you mad at him for something? 

Your muddled thoughts are interrupted as he yanks you up and bends you over the arm of the couch as if you weigh nothing. "Tell me who you belong to, baby," he growls as you feel the fat head of his cock bully it's way between your folds from behind. "Because it seems like you forgot."

"You, I belong to you," you answer dutifully, drawing out the final vowel into a long moan as he sheaths himself inside of you with one hard snap of his hips. 

"Fuck," he growls, twitching inside of you, "say it again."

"I'm yours, Sukuna," you whine, peering over your shoulder to look at him. 

"Yeah," he moans, rolling his hips into you, his cock dragging along every tender aching inch inside you. "You're mine," he pounds into you faster, harder, pulling you back into him by your hair. "I'm gonna stuff you so full of cum, baby." He always talks so much when he's fucking you. Now he's babbling something about making you pregnant. You're too stupid with lust to even begin to reflect on what an almost comically bad idea that is, although you suppose you understand it. Another way for him to stake his claim.  Then his teeth are bruising your shoulder, marking you, and you're arching into him, your walls beginning to flutter around the sweet, familiar shape of him.

He pulls out as soon as he feels you starting to squeeze down on him. "Want you to look at me when you cum," he rasps. You guess you know why.  You make it a point not to look over his shoulder as he threads his arms under your hips, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist before he impales you again. 

"Oh fuck, Sukuna," you whine as he stretches you, a perfect pain.

"Say it again," he murmurs, pistoning up into you with more speed now, but less control as he nears his end. 

"Yours," you manage to choke out before he slips a hand around your throat, stealing your breath, making your vision darken as you seize up around him, milking him as he spills inside of you. He is clawing and biting at you everywhere he can reach as he devours your lips, pouring a muffled string of curses into your mouth. You wonder vaguely, if any small part of him cares about you, or if he only cares to own you.

You are intertwined, leaning against the wall, twitching and gasping. You're too busy murmuring nonsense into each other's ears to notice when Nanami sits up and slides the remaining wine bottle off of the coffee table. The one the two of you didn't quite finish off. 

You've got your chin hooked over Sukuna's shoulder, your fingertips tracing the circles tattooed there and he's panting, "I want to tell you something," when you see Nanami walk around the couch, holding the bottle by the neck. 

"I don't know why I could never say it before," Sukuna whispers as Nanami raises the bottle. You lock eyes with him, but you don't say anything. 

"I-" There's a soft thud as the bottle connects with the back of Sukuna's head. His eyes roll back as he falls away from you and hits the floor hard. 

Nanami barely looks at you as he shoulders Sukuna's limp body and carries him outside. You are pulling on your sweats when he comes back, gathers the man's clothes and tosses them outside. You cross your arms over your bare chest as he walks past you into the kitchen. "Get dressed and get out, please. I'll get you an uber," he says, pressing a bag of frozen peas to his face. He sinks into the couch, wine bottle between his knees and uncorks it with his thumb. His back is to you.

"Nanami?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't find my top. Maybe you're sitting on it?"

He sighs and leans forward to set the bottle and the makeshift icepack on the coffee table. Then he's wrapping his shirt around your shoulders, it smells like the cedar and the ocean. You look up at him through damp lashes, bruises already starting to bloom in the hollows of his eye.

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks," he says before he returns to the couch.

Sukuna is standing, although weaving, in his boxers, looking dazedly at his pants when you shoulder through the broken door.

"Hey," he mumbles, stumbling forward. "Where the hells my belt?"

Nanami sinks back into the couch, frozen peas pressed to his face. Takes a long pull off the bottle before deciding that's probably not going to help much. He stares at the broken TV screen, the flickering bars of light reflecting in his eyes.

Maybe after he works this job a few more years, he could just start over somewhere else. 

Like Malaysia.

Yeah.

That'd be nice.

[itsmrshamilton]

No Apologies (2)| LH44

summary: the aftermath of the fallout between Lewis and Y/n. Are they willing to apologise and make up?

a/n: sorry it took so long. please engage before you leave!

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

"Mummy?" Called Leo from the backseat. His black curls were a mess from playing with them. Something he did when he got really bored or annoyed.

"Yes, my sweets?" Y/n looked up to see him in the rearview mirror.

"Is Auntie Sofie going to have popcorn there?"

"Yes, my sweets."

"And rice cakes?"

"Yes."

"And ice lollies?"

"Yes, Leo."

"What about-"

"Leo, Sofie always has your favourite snacks can you drop it!"

Leo stared at her in the mirror before jutting his bottom lip out and turning to the window. The cutest pout she's ever seen but her frustration and guilt didn't allow her to let it stick around.

She sighed to herself. He was just trying to keep himself entertained. Unfortunately, she was too overwhelmed to do that right now. "I'm sorry. Leo. Leo, look at me. Mummy's sorry about that. We'll get to Auntie Sofie's place soon, then you can ask her if she's got everything. Okay?"

Parenting definitely isn't for the weak. He stayed silent for a minute, still pouting violently.

"Okay."

The rest of the drive there was quiet except for a few sniffles from Leo. He wouldn't meet her eye in the mirror and continued to stare out the window til he fell asleep. Sofie's house was 2 hours away, but it was the only place she could go in order to take some time to think. The sky had changed to a light orange by the time she got there.

One couldn't tell that the small house actually had three bedrooms inside as well as a large living area and a small garden at the back.

It was the kind of home Y/n grew up wanting for herself. She'd spoken to Sofie about it during many childhood sleepovers. 12 years ago, she could have been upset that Sofie got to buy it first if it weren't for the fact that she had met Lewis by that point and moved into his luxurious Monaco apartment.

The door to the yellow house opened and Sofie came rushing down the path to the car. There were rollers in her black hair and her oversized shirt flapped in her haste. Y/n knew she didn't care what her neighbours thought - she probably walked to the nearest shop like this often.

"How dare you interrupt my evening plans with your emergency call." She grinned when she came to a stop on the sidewalk.

"What evening plans? Curling up on your dirty old couch with one of your dirty old cats to binge murder documentaries?" Y/n teased in return. Her own smirk twitching in amusement.

"Yeah! Best part of my week!" They laughed at that and hugged tightly. Sofie was the first to pull away and placed her hands on her hips. "Need me to go there and kick him out?"

Y/n sighed loudly. "Yes, no, I don't know yet. I just need to think."

Sofie rolled her eyes. "That's all you ever do when it come to Lewis. Think, think, think. There's never any action - proper action to sit and communicate. Look what it's led to."

"I don't want this lecture outside, Sof. Grab something to make yourself useful." She turned to the car to open Leo's door.

"How about I grab my best boy and you can carry in the rest, yeah?" She unbuckled a sleeping Leo then scooped him up and carried him inside, cooing as she went. They loved each other greatly.

Y/n watched in slight annoyance before grabbing the bags, locking and heading inside. Staying with Sofie was always a treat because they didn't get to live together during childhood due to Sofie being a product of an affair between her mother, Devi, and Y/n's father long before Y/n was even born. Everything ended messily when Y/n's mum, Lee-Ann, found out and demanded he cut all contact. But it only got worse a couple of years later when Devi turned up at the house with a very young Sofie and demanded a paternity test. Lee-Ann was nearly 9 months pregnant.

"So, what happened?" Sofie interrupted Y/n's thoughts once they were inside and settled. She was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Oh, uh, he came home at 1 this morning instead of last night. No messages, no call-"

"What an arse." Sof mumbled into her drink.

"We argued in the afternoon about him not being around, me wanting a different life and other dumb shit we've been over before."

"Y'know, I have never heard you say that you sat down and talked things over. It's always either him starting shit at the worst moments, or you." Sofie pointed out.

"Me?? I don't start arguments." Y/n sat up in surprise.

"Y/n." Sofie deadpanned.

"What? I don't!"

Sofie rolled her eyes at her sister's denial and took another sip before stretching out in search of comfort. "See, this is why you two won't work. Neither one of you wants to take the blame or understand that both of you are the problem!"

Y/n stayed silent as she stroked the cat on her lap. She wasn't a problem. If Lewis stopped doing things to annoy her, then she wouldn't get annoyed and argue with him.

"I never once saw mum and daddy argue. Did you know that? Their marriage was a mess, they didn't sleep in the same bed, they rarely did nice things for each other but they never argued in front of me. I grew up thinking my family was normal.

Lewis plans these grand dates involving yachts and passports, fucks me til my soul leaves my body and gets me flowers twice a week. Yet we manage to fight almost daily. How is my marriage worse than my parents?" Y/n was crying uglily by the end of her rant. Pathetically wiping at her wet cheeks and hiccupping to get the words out.

Sofie pulled her close and rubbed her back while the cat, now annoyed by the noise, scurried away.

"Oh, my sweet Y/n." Her heart ached for her little sister who spent all her life trying to please people.

"We try not to do it in front of Leo or raise our voices when he's in the house, but I think he knows. He knows something is wrong, and I don't want that. I don't want him to hate us, Sof." More sobbing and coughing. Sof grimaced slightly. Y/n had always been an ugly crier, but she still wasn't used to it.

"Y/n, Leo is a loving child who sees no wrong in anyone because you two raised him that way. He won't hate you for trying to hold things together for him if you have genuine intentions." Sofie sat Y/n up and held her by the shoulders. "But if you're really so worried about how it affects him, then maybe you should divorce."

Y/n sat straighter at this. While yes, she had kind of threatened Lewis with one, she didn't really think they would go through with it. She hoped a long break was what the relationship needed, and then she would go back and all would be fixed. But at the same time, she wanted things to end here as they were without seeing each other again.

Sofie watched her sister absorb her words and process. Her eyebrows met and temporarily hid the scar she'd gotten when Sof threw a toy at her in a fit of rage. Blood had dribbled down her small face, ruined her clothes while Sofie had burst into tears, and scrambled to get their dad. Lee-Ann had demanded Devi keep her away from the house for weeks, and the girls weren't allowed to play unsupervised again. Y/n forgave Sofie immediately with a gentle hug, but 30 years later, Lee-Ann hadn't.

Growing up with a single mother, a guilt-ridden father, and his spiteful wife wasn't easy, and Sofie ended up struggling with relationships in her teenagerhood and adulthood. Y/n was the only person she could rely on and give her all to. She hated watching her suffer, but more than that, she hated watching Leo grow up in the middle of this. No child deserved an unstable home. Therefore, Sofie refused to allow Y/n to do so when she had the resources and support to prevent it. Leo deserved a better life even if it came at the expense of her sister's marriage.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?"

"Hm? Yeah. I just-"

"Mummy?" Leo stood by the doorway rubbing his small eyes.

Y/n made her way to him and hoisted him into her arms. "Let's go have a bath, my sweets. Then we can have a yummy supper with Auntie Sofie, okay?"

"Okay." He replied hoarsely and lay his head on her shoulder.

Once he was bathed and moisturised, Leo sat on the bed and pulled his clothes on, struggling all the way after confidently claiming he could do it himself. Y/n watched in amusement as he moved onto his socks despite his pajama pants being on backward.

"Mummy?" He took a break from his exhausting task.

"Yes, my sweets?" She slipped on the final sock.

"When we wake up here at Auntie Sofie's, will daddy be here?" His brown eyes shone brightly with innocence.

Y/n did her best to think of an answer without showing her annoyance at the fact that her son was very used to going to bed without his father and knowing he'd be there in the morning. She did all the hard work throughout the day, taking tantrums and accidents as they came just for Lewis to be the one to be showered with kisses and praises the next morning when Leo awoke.

"We'll be staying at Aunt Sofie's for some time, my Leo. Just you and me." He looked down sadly, and Y/n could basically see the gears turning in his mind. His thinking face was exactly like Lewis' - eyes squint, lips pulled to one side, puffed out cheeks.

"So no daddy?" He whispered.

"No daddy for now, okay?" She placed a kiss on his forehead and helped him off the bed. Together they moved to the dining room.

Later that night she pulled the duvet over Leo and his toys in the queen size bed. Supper had gone down without a fuss from him and now he was buzzing with excitement to call his father. Y/n handed him her phone with the contact on screen and moved out of frame.

"Here you go, press call. Yes, that one." They video called Lewis often enough that Leo knew how to handle the device so his dad could see all of him and his toys therefore he could say goodnight to everyone.

The phone rang once before being answered. Y/n smiled sadly at her husband's eagerness.

"Daddy!" Greeted Leo. He gripped the phone with two small hands and a big grin that showed every tooth and gap.

"Hello, my boy! You look nice and cozy. Are all your teddies tucked in proper?" The two went on to talk about Leo's stuffed companions, his night with Nathan and his week at school. Lewis wasn't just catching up on the day but also the week he missed. Y/n could see how happy he was to listen to Leo stutter and ramble his way through the stories. His brown eyes were bright, framed beautifully by lashes and crow's feet. His smile was wide, spreading further to laugh at Leo's jokes. But Y/n could also see how much he was hurting during this experience. His beautiful lashes wet from crying earlier, his lips slightly chapped from lack of self-care and his throat moving constantly to swallow the lump that was no doubt sitting there. It hurt her too to see him pain but she pushed it down by thinking of the many times he couldn't see her pain because he was too far from home.

"Daddy, mummy said you won't be coming to Auntie Sofie's. Why won't you come? When will I see you?" Leo's voice trembled slightly, and Y/n froze. She didn't mean to phrase in such a way that Leo thought it was all Lewis' fault - well, technically it was, but she didn't want Leo blaming his father. Not at this age anyway. She watched as Lewis sat in baffled silence before attempting to answer his sweet son in a reassuring way. If Y/n wasn't mature enough not to talk shit about him in front of their son, then he would be the bigger person and go about this nicely, he thought.

"Champ, I promise I'll take you to school on Monday, okay? We can spend some time after school as well. How's that?" Leo smiled happily at that, and Lewis felt a light weight lift off his shoulders. "Okay, well, it's 8pm now. Time for bed, yeah?"

"Goodnight, daddy." Leo let his father bid him and each of his toys goodnight and then passed the phone on to his mum. She pressed kisses to his brown cheeks then stepped out to take a breath in an attempt to compose herself. She lifted the phone to talk to her husband. He opened his mouth, but she quickly cut him off.

"You can't take him on Monday." She said sternly. His face dropped.

"Y/n, come on. No. Y/n, you can't do that to me, please. Please. You just heard me promise him that." She watched him beg with a stern expression. He looked like he was on the verge of falling apart. In front of their child he had held it all together -put on the performance of the century. But here, in front of the woman he hurt, he sniffled and grasped for straws. She wasn't impressed.

"We're two hours away, Lewis. School won't work so I'm going to let Leo stay home for the week while I look for a local school to move him to."

Lewis was shocked to silence as a tear rolled down his face. "Why would you uproot his life this, Y/n!? This isn't fair!"

She furrowed her brows at the volume of his voice. She had a lot to say about things that were and weren't fair. But before she could list them, he began shouting some more. "I- I understand that you're upset and you have every right to be but Leo shouldn't suffer because of that. You can't punish him."

"I'm not punishing him." She grew more frustrated.

"So you're punishing me?" He asked angrily, more tears.

"I'm not punishing anyone! I'm trying to make the best decision for him while dealing with everything that went down. Your house is empty because of what you did. This is not punishment, this is the consequence of your actions so maybe you should have that about Leo suffering before you ruined our marriage!" She's trembling and she's sure everyone in the house heard everything she just yelled.

Lewis scoffed before ending the call.

Y/n spent the next hour crying in Sofie's arms on the couch. She hadn't gone back to Leo's room to check on him and soothe him just in case he was upset by the call. She couldn't handle seeing him cry for his father right now. She couldn't handle being the bad guy to him. Sofie's hand on her back made it all a little easier to deal with. The purring cat on her lap didn't hurt either. She stroked its soft back gently while she sniffled and tried to find her words.

"Y/n, I don't want to make the decision for you." Sofie started. Y/n looked up into her sister's golden eyes, slightly scrunched due to the sad smile on her face. "But Leo should not be caught in the crossfire. And I know you know that."

"But I can't stay with Lewis, Sof. I can't be like mum and force my marriage to work." Y/n whispered. The thought of living with Lewis again made her scared for many reasons.

Sofie shook her head and brushed aside the black strand that came loose. "Your mum didn't force her marriage in order to create a good life for you. She did it so she wouldn't look like a bad wife to others. She wanted our dad to be the only person who wrong and immoral in the relationship."

Y/n felt her eyes tear up once more from the memories of her childhood with her mum who did everything in her power to keep things normal. Eventually it all fell apart and Y/n didn't want that for herself. She didn't want that for Leo.

"You'll only hurt Leo if you try to make yourself blameless in this situation. I don't care if neither one of you apologises and you end up dragging each other's arses kicking and screaming to every court in this country, as long as you put that sweet little boy first."

Y/n heard the slight tremor in her sister's voice and finally realised how this all affected her. All this time she'd been thinking of herself and her hate for the man she married while ignoring the bigger pain this was causing her son and sister. Her loving sister who never blamed her for being the treasured daughter in their chaotic household. Her loving sister who sheltered her from her Lee-Ann's nasty behaviour towards herself and never spoke badly of Lee-Ann in front of Y/n. Her loving sister who soaked up every miniscule second she got with her father but also happily allowed for Y/n to spend those limited moments with them.

Y/n lunged forward to give Sofie the biggest hug ever. She'd take Sofie's advice and think things over. The cat in her lap meowed unhappily at its new position squashed between the two women. They pulled away giggling.

"I love you, Sof." Y/n smiled using her sleeve to wipe her tears

"I love you too so stop getting your snot on my furniture." Y/n giggled and sniffled. "If you're really interested in the local schools, I'll give you a list of the good private ones. Too many of them are run by cunts with tight g-strings."

"Sofie!"

"What?? It's true, they wear them to keep the sticks up their arse in place." She picked up her drink.

"You're so mean, oh my gosh." Y/n laughed.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

On Sunday evening, Lewis was in the kitchen using the island as a desk for all his stuff - files, folders and his laptop. He'd even brought the printer down from the study because he couldn't stand to be upstairs while the house was this empty.

He reached for document being printed- an email from his lawyer helping him gear up for the divorce. He'd been on a call earlier with his accountant to start discussions about what would need to be done once the divorce papers were written up. He didn't want to do any of this. After the call with Leo and Y/n, he had cried himself to sleep on the couch. He had woken up very early on Sunday morning to a horrid headache and a worse heartache. As the day went on, his sadness turned to anger as he thought about everything. He refused to let Y/n make him feel this way and to take his boy from him like this. He'd then called his father who arranged to meet with him for lunch on Monday but suggested Lewis talk to a lawyer in the mean time to see what his options were. Lewis was more than grateful for his dad's support. He cherished the bond they had and the work they had put in to make everything work in the end. Y/n was well offside for the shit she had said about them, he thought. She would pay for every word that came out her mouth.

As soon as the printing machine stopped, the front door opened. His heart hammered in his chest when he took tentative steps to investigate and then he stared in disbelief, not sure what to do now.

Y/n stood at the door with a sleeping Leo snoring into the crook of her neck. Her lips trembled as she took a shallow breath.

"I'm sorry."

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Welp, now what?? This is not the end. Part 3 out soon.

Thanks for reading this far! Please don't forget to engage before you leave. (Asking to be tagged is not encouraged)

I do not consent to my work being uploaded onto another site or being altered, translated, fed to AI sites or stolen!!

[fairiesthrum]

ummmmmm excuse me, my dearest fae, you can’t just say this and then not expand???

bounty hunter satoru?? do you think he has a dirty little space ship that desperately needs maintenance and he constantly brings back aliens from trips just so he can play around with them, exploring their bodies till they’re trembling and whining…………………………………

🎀 — humblest apologies for not explaining myself further alba 😓 (incoming yap session)

imagine in a galaxy far, far away, there’s a place where aliens and humans co-exist. now, about most of the population of aliens appear pretty humanoid, just very colorful skin and hair (pink, purple, green, blue, etc.)

the setting is very much like that of guardians of the galaxy, and gojo satoru is the most notorious bounty hunter there is. i imagine him (i’ll try to post a drawing soon) with a lot of cyber tech. his whole outfit would be black and he uses two guns, one with blue led lights and the other red (trying to get y’all to envision.) he’d also have his signature blindfold but instead, it comes in the form of cyber tech mask glasses that can dematerialize by pressing a button on the side (kinda like peter quill’s.)

he rarely ever misses when he shoots and he always catches the perps (nah, i’d win space edition.) and satoru is very serious abt his job (ik shocking but he’s gotta make that bag somehow and being a bounty hunter pays really well.) he’s very confident to say that nothing is able to distract or deter him from getting it done. but unfortunately for him, he has only one weakness. and that was alien girl puthayy 😛

see, the problem was, aliens and humans can not reproduce with one another. it wasn’t impossible, it was just against the rules. and by that definition, it also meant that it was illegal to have sex with one another. but let’s be fr, it’s going to happen whether it’s outlawed or not.

the first time satoru’s fucked an alien woman, it was at a strip club. as a man, he was curious to what it’d feel like to fuck one. and unfortunately for him, it was the best he’s ever had. it was his guilty pleasure, the one thing no-one could know about or else, it’d risk his job. but it was just too good. and where he used to jerk his cock off to human girls on his ship, now he does it thinking about alien girls. it always has him coming fast, and sometimes, just the thought can have him busting a nut in his pants, completely untouched.

he’s never had mind-blowing sex like that before in his life. the man is already a sex fanatic and craves it all the time (it helps him blow off steam), but he can’t cum when fucking regular human women anymore ;( it’s cause aliens were far more sensitive than humans, their senses advanced with the ability to feel more. and there was no feeling on earth (pun intended) like rutting into a warm cunt that was eager to suck him in, strangling his cock cuz some alien chick was horny out of her mind, pussy practically drooling all over him.

it’d have to be a secret though. and luckily for satoru, no one suspects someone like him, who’s job was to hunt down rogue aliens, to love sloppy extraterrestrial pussy.

satoru’s ship is made from the same advanced tech as his suit. it gets dirty from his constant partying and hook-ups. so, when he needs to get it checked cuz some huge beefy alien dude breaks his console during one of his ragers, he doesn’t bring it to the usual repair shop everyone goes to for their space ships. oh no no, he goes to one run by the other species.

there were a lot of hot ladies working there (because sexism doesn’t exist amongst aliens like at least they doing sumn right unlike us 😒) so, a lot of the times, his ship doesn’t end up fixed at the end.

he… likes to stay and watch them with dark, hooded eyes as they prance around his ship, eager to do their job. every once in a while, he’ll put a hand on their hip, letting it linger just long enough before pulling away when he comes over to “check on the progress.” the touch isn’t uninvited, he knows from the sultry gazes and flirty touches that are given in turn that they’re very much into him too.

it’s not long before he has them bent over the console, thrusting into the warm gooeyness of their sticky hole as they mewl and whine for more of his fat cock while he pinches their sensitive nipples ‘till they squirm.

they’re loud, and he loves it. it feeds his ego to know how hungry they are for him, for his cock. aliens were known for multiplying by the dozen, he assumes it has something to do with that. satoru’s thought about it before, breeding an alien. it was just a fantasy though, a fantasy that has him spilling his cum inside them on the spot, their needy whimpers begging him to.

that was his routine, catching criminals and fucking alien girl pussy on the side. and when his next mission entails finding some lady who stole some priceless piece of tech that could’ve sold for a lot, he was on board to find you right away (and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you were smoking hot.)

it was easy for him to track you, he was the best at this job after all. you try to flee but he manhandles you against the wall, trapping you with your wrists pinned behind you, his chest up against your back. his warm breath hits your neck, panting from chasing you down. satoru’s eyes are dilated, but you’re unable to see with your cheek pressed against the cool metal in front of you.

this wasn’t what you had expected, you were caught so easily! it was a bad idea from the start, but it was either take a leap of faith and end up rich or be broke forever.

the pleas instantly leave your lips, begging to be let go. you didn’t want to go to prison. you were young and had so much to live for! (the two cents in your back pocket 😓) satoru listened, his cerulean eyes twinkling with amusement and poorly concealed arousal as you went on, swearing how you’d never do it again, that he could take back what you stole and forget it ever happened. he contemplated for a moment, choosing his cards carefully, before he’s leaning in next to your ear to whisper, “no can do, sweetheart.”

you shiver, and the atmosphere seems to change around you suddenly at the shift in his tone. a feeling you were all too familiar with stirs in your stomach, your body simply a slave to pleasure (curse your biology!) and the way he had spoken to you just then had you wet in a matter of seconds.

you try to compromise, “i’ll do anything!” it flies out of your mouth before you can even think. and he smirks, like he had been waiting for that the entire time.

“anything?”

and that’s how you end up getting railed by the human man who was sent to capture you.

“‘s so fucking good— fuck!”, he’s slurring by your ear, like he was getting drunk off of pounding into you. the thrusts were desperate, as if he could never get enough of your insides. satoru could stay like this forever, watching his cock slide in and out, stretching you open with his girth. he clings onto you like he never wants to let go, your wrists free and resting on the metal in front of you, the warm puffs of your breath condensing on the cold alloy. strong pale arms covered in high-tech were wrapped tightly around your waist while his hips thrust into you with a hungered fervor.

the tip of his mushroom head hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and absolutely gushing around him. he gives you a low groan of approval when you clench, “jus’ like that pretty, jus’ like that—”

then he lets you go after blowing a load inside you, leaving you with shaky legs and a throbbing for more. and you totally don’t start thieving more often just so he can come find you and do it all over again.

anyways, that is all i have for space bounty hunter gojo lol ₓₓ

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Listening to Oxytocin by Billie Eilish imagining a 'FWB who are secretly in love with each other but just too kinky and not emotionally honest enough to do anything about it' situation with Rook Hunt and Cater Diamond (separately).

Or like, making a thirty trap to the song on a TWST version of TikTok just for the cast to reply it over and over again until they rub their skin raw.

(once again I am UNGODLY HORNY LOL!!! So enjoy my sin bestie)

Not going to lie, this was the first time I ever listened to Oxytocin by Billie Eilish. Not my favorite, but not bad.

Warnings: 18+, Gender-neutral! Reader, no specific ‘hole’ is mentioned (could be anal, could be vaginal), FWB relationship wth Rook and Cater (separately), bondage (Cater), not much smut in Rook’s (sorry)

Cater Diamond

It all started when you were both assigned a project in Professor Crewel’s class. The tension was definitely there, and since you were both in the privacy of Ramshackle, and Grim was sleeping in a different room, you both gave into your desires.

Neither one of you realized just how much physical chemistry you had with each other before that night, and since then, you have used approximately 47 boxes of condoms and counting. It was great stress relief for both of you, and it was a no-strings-attached agreement… unfortunately, it became quite clear that there were at least a few strings there.

The thing is… neither of you knew how to bring it up. For some reason, you both thought that it might not be the best time to talk about deep feelings when he was balls-deep in your throat, gently thrusting into your mouth and moaning as he felt you gag on his cock.

He has ranted about it to Trey, much to the baker’s dismay. He did not want to know about what you both did in your own time. However, he had no idea how to tell you that he loved you. That he wanted you for more than just your body. That he wanted to cuddle after having sex with you rather than get dressed and do the messy walk of shame back to Heartslabyul.

One day, however, you both were trying something out in bed… bondage. His hands were tied to the headboard as you rode him into oblivion. His fucked out face was one that you had many pictures of… but you never posted them. They were just for you.

Anyway, he was babbling complete nonsense, his dick being gripped tightly by your warmth as you ground your hips down. “I love you…” He muttered softly in-between whimpers, “Seven, I fucking love you… fuck… keep going, baby…”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately stop your ministrations. “What did you say, Cater?” His own eyes widen in response as he realized what he said, and he felt his heart thud harshly against his chest. “Uhh… Nothing! I said nothing! Who said anything about ‘love’? That’s crazy talk! You know me: Cray-cray Cay-Cay!”

However, you quickly shut him up by kissing his lips passionately, breaking one of the few rules the both of you set. It didn’t seem like Cater had any issue with this rule-breaking either, especially since he reciprocated and moaned against your lips as you continued riding him.

“I love you, too,” You whispered against his lips, “Shit!... I love you, Cater…”

Soon, he spilled his load into the condom, and you pulled yourself off of him and collapsed beside him, when he got up to dispose of the rubber. Then, he giggled excitedly as he climbed into bed next to you.

For now, this would remain private between the two of you, as well as Trey because Cater needs to tell someone, but neither of you could be happier with how your relationship shifted.

Rook Hunt

Your… relationship… with the French hunter started in Potionology. Your friends fucked up a potion and it spilled on you. With your luck, it turned out to be an aphrodisiac, and so Professor Crewel sent you back to Ramshackle to sleep it off.

Rook noticed that you weren’t running your usual errands, so he asked Ace, Deuce, and Grim for your whereabouts. When they explained to him what happened, his eyes widened in surprise and he immediately rushed to Ramshackle to help you out. Obviously, neither of you knew about the other’s feelings, but you were more than happy to have his help.

That day was when you realized that 1) he was wonderful in bed and 2) he had a stupidly large dick that hit everything it needed to. Let’s not even mention how good his hands are.

Anyway, even when the aphrodisiac wore off, you both still found reasons to find privacy together. You wanted to get dicked down, and Rook was more than happy to oblige as he loved you and your body. The other people on campus were more than happy about this arrangement too, since it meant that Rook didn’t have time to stalk them.

However, this friends-with-benefits relationship wasn’t like anything else. Rook, in every sense of the term, ‘made love’ to you. He was gentle and attentive, putting your pleasure above all else. He wanted to be your toy that would bring you pleasure. It made him feel good knowing that he made you feel good.

One day, after a rather intimate session together, you were both laying in your bed as you discussed things you would like to try with him. When you brought up a possible threesome in the future, he tensed up.

“Non, ma chérie. I do not much like the idea of sharing you with anyone else,” He admitted, looking into your eyes.

His words made your heart flutter, and the butterflies got worse as he leaned in to kiss you. However, you made no move to back away, and reciprocated it instead.

When you both pulled away, you both smiled happily at each other before settling back under the covers to get some rest.

[sherlocking-out-loud]

Maddie keeps trying to convince Buck to go on a date with a cute and single dispatch colleague of hers, because he needs to move on, have some fun, start to forget Tommy.

and she's so insistent that he eventually accepts it. he texts the stranger's phone number and they agree on a day and time and to meet at the restaurant.

Buck arrives first and when he recognizes his date walking torwards their table he gets up. a "Oh, you have a cleft too" escapes him, and they ask, confused, "Too?" and Buck, flustered, replies "Ah, nevermind".

but then, during the whole meal, Buck keeps doing it. as he browses the menu: "Oh they have Porchetta, Tommy's favorite.", as he takes a sip of the wine: "It's funny I used to be a wine guy, but Tommy introduced me to the world of craft beers and now wine just doesn't do it for me anymore.", as they eat: "Your father likes classic cars? That's awesome! You know if he ever needs help fixing any of them, I'm sure Tommy can do it or find you somebody that can.", during dessert: "Yeah the spumoni is very good, you should try it, Tommy loved it".

and Buck doesn't even realized what he did until they're leaving the restaurant and his date, without any hint of annoyance but with a clear hint of pity, tells him: "I think you should call Tommy."

and Buck is left there on the sidewalk trying to process what just happened.

a few hours later, he'll be in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. he suddenly sits up and picks up his phone. before he can convince himself out of it, he texts Tommy: "Hi. I think we should talk." he presses send and turns the phone's screen off, flopping back to his pillow. five seconds later the phone, held in his hand against his stomach, buzzes. he looks at it: a text from Tommy: "Hi. Yeah, I think you're right."

the next day Maddie calls him to know how the date went and Buck blurts out: "I'm meeting Tommy tomorrow night." and that's definitely not what she expected to hear.

[hauntedestheart]

Something To Be Thankful For (Male Body Swap)

A Thanksgiving themed story where the family loser finally gets a break

Thanksgiving is inarguably the worst holiday. First off, it's racist and imperialist and celebrates the genocide of the Native Americans, but also it, uh, just kinda sucks! None of the fun parts of other holidays like gifts or candy but all of the worst parts... and by "worst parts," I mean forced family gatherings.

I'm probably just bitter about it because I'm something of the black sheep in my family. For starters I'm gay. I'm also the shortest one of my siblings, and the sole glasses wearer. And on top of that, I'm the only one in a clan of witches and warlocks who never manifested magic powers.

I know, I know. Pick a struggle, right?

My father is a high ranking executive at one of the preeminent magical goods suppliers in the country. My mother's homebrewed potions win awards. My older sister is graduating magna cum laude from college with a degree in charms. Even my younger brother was conjuring lightning in the womb.

But me? The family's little loser? Never a flicker.

A normie in a magic family is not unheard of but it's all my relatives will ever talk to me about, which makes the holidays hell. Thanksgiving is the worst of all since it's always set aside for a big family reunion, which means I get to spend a week fielding condescending questions from the entire clan about how I'm still a disappointment

And that's on top of the usual family drama! Drunk uncles fighting, mothers comparing their children's achievements, married couples who should really be divorced having uncomfortably public arguments, excruciating political debates- not to mention the unusual family drama, like spell competitions and aggravated curses. I can't even enjoy the free vacation this year since we went to island resort, and my pasty ass can barely spend a few minutes in the sun before burning.

Yippee.

The only bright spot is that my sister brought her boyfriend with her this year- his name's Quincy. He's hot, right?

Quincy is not very smart, nor does he have magic, and in every interaction I've had with him he's been kind of a tool. This makes him the perfect match for my domineering sister- a big, dumb hunk that she can keep under her thumb.

The relationship is new and she definitely just wanted to bring him along to show him off to our cousins and to piss off our racist relatives, but I certainly wasn't gonna complain about having some free eye candy along. I mean, his muscles? His smile? I couldn't wait to see how he filled out a bathing suit because his regular pants were always screaming at the seams.

So yes, pathetic as it sounds, the thing I was looking forwards to the most about this family reunion was getting to sneak glances at my sister's boyfriend. Creepy, I know, but it's not like I was hurting anybody! He was just another beautiful thing that I'd never have.

Just like the respect of my family, and all of the magic around me.

I got to see a decent amount of him the first day we arrived (he wasn't hard to spot since his massive frame stuck out in the crowd) and it was really the only thing that kept me going as the week of torture began. I turned it into sort of a game- every time something insufferable happened, as a treat, got to objectify Quincy.

When Grandpa asked me if I'd developed powers yet and then shook his head when I said no, I let myself stare at the way Quincy's biceps flexed while he carried everyone's luggage.

When Cousin Leland and his wife started throwing hexes at each other in the elevator, I got to stare at a certain someone's giant ass as he walked up the stairs in front of me.

When my sister snapped at me for taking so long to unpack because I had to do it by hand instead of just zapping everything out, I flipped her off and imagined myself motorboating her boyfriend's pecs.

When Creepy Uncle Marlow made a pass at my mom... actually I kept my eyes to myself that time, acutely aware that I was well on my way to becoming a creepy bachelor uncle. Sigh.

At dinner, I found myself seated at the kid's table even though I was well into my twenties because Auntie Myrna (the old bitch who made the seating arrangements) thought I'd "be more comfortable there" since there would be so much talk of magic at the other tables- never mind that half of the family's significant others were normies and they got along just fine.

At the very least, my spot offered me a good view of Quincy, who was seated with the rest of my family at the head table. It was hard not to feel jealous, looking at that big, strong, handsome guy who didn't seem to have a care in the world.

As was tradition, we all bowed our heads as my father read the out a sacred incantation that had been passed down through our family for generations that was supposed to ensure our good fortune. It was part of the reason we reunited on Thanksgiving- what better time of year to renew our blessings than the time of thankfulness?

But as I sat there bored, powerless, and lonely, I struggled to really feel the spirit of the holiday. I did feel a weird tingling though.

Next thing I knew I was sitting at the head table, feeling better than I ever had in my life. Power surged through my veins, but it wasn't magic, it was... strength? Muscles? When did I get muscles?

I stared down at myself and my body was unrecognizable. My skin was dark brown and I was twice the size I was before, maybe even three times. I ran my hands over the surface of the tight black t-shirt I was now wearing and I felt all sorts of ridges and bumps- then I realized that since it was my body, I could slip the hand under the t-shirt, and I discovered that those bumps were a fucking six pack and a chest.

I slipped the other hand under in disbelief and cupped one pectoral in each of my hands, my eyes widening as I squeezed them tight and felt the soft muscle flexing in my hand. It felt incredible, like I was grabbing clouds out of heaven. What was going on?

A silver serving tray was sitting on the table in front of me and I picked it up, gasping in shock at the face I saw reflected back at me. Quincy?

Unsure of what was happening, I rose to my feet and stumbled instantly, not anticipating just how far up I'd go. I was tall, towering over a majority of the other guests, and my new height gave me the perfect view of the pandemonium that had erupted in the rest of the dining room.

I glanced to my right and saw my sister had yanked her top down and was feeling her own boobs while my teenage brother was jumping up and down, bending his knees with a big smile. On the far side, Grandpa was hobbling around with a shell shocked expression on his face, and he nearly crashed into Uncle Marlow, who was grabbing his crotch and shrieking. Mom was banging on the table, trying to get everyone's attention, but no one was listening.

I didn't have to be a magician to get what was going on- all around, people were struggling with the shock of their new bodies. There were cries of confusion, people already searching for their families and themselves. Full grown adults were sobbing like little kids, some of them were being comforted by little kids.

And there was lots and lots of grabbing of private parts.

I turned around and saw my own body seated at the kid's table, patting himself down in shock- whoever was in me didn't look happy. But you know who was happy? Me!

I took advantage of the chaos to escape into the hallway, away from the noise and prying eyes, and I immediately tore my shirt off. And I mean literally tore it off, grabbing the fabric with two strong hands and tearing it down the middle just to see if I could. Quincy was wearing a black undershirt, so tight on his muscles it looked like it was painted on- it was already one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen, and I wasn't even done undressing!

The undershirt had to go too, slipped over my head and discarded to the side so I could get a clear view of Quincy's incredible torso. I'd seen muscles before, objectively I knew what they looked like, but seeing them from a first persona angle was utterly surreal. I pressed a finger into the meat of one of the pectorals that jutted out from my chest and watched the finger sink in, then I flexed so the muscle became hard and forced the finger away. I chuckled with glee.

The charcoal shorts that Quincy was wearing were quickly abandoned and I discovered with some delight that he was a boxer briefs man- which made sense, because he had a lot of goods to support. Just like his undershirt, his underwear was skintight, and I wondered if it was because he sought out clothes that hugged his figure, or if his body was just so big that this was the only way things fit him.

I ran my hands over the curve of his ass and it was just as supple as I'd imagined it would be, and there was so much of it that his hands could barely cover the cheeks. I'd have to find a mirror later so I could get a full view of what it looked like when I shook it.

Then I felt a stirring in my belly and saw that the thick projection at the front of Quincy's underwear was starting to snake further and further down... how far would it go, I wondered?

Someone interrupted me before I could find out, and I was summoned back into the room to sort things out with the rest of my mixed up family. I didn't bother getting dressed before making my return- why cover up all that goodness?

Now I know what you're probably thinking- "oh wow, his powers finally manifested! He can switch people's bodies!" Well as sickening as that would be, that was not the case.

When everyone finally calmed down a bit, my father (now in the body of my mother) explained that he'd been cursed by a business rival before the holiday and he hadn't had time to investigate the effects before we left for vacation. Suspicious curse plus family wide incantation equaled mass body swaps.

Since magic relating to the mind and body is some of the trickiest, we would need an expert to untangle this, and since none were going to be available until after the holidays and rebooking flights on the weekend of a major holiday was impossible even with magic, we were stuck at the resort in our new bodies for the rest of the week.

Which is fine by me of course- getting to spend the rest of this vacation in the primo body of a hunk? Cruising the beach looking like this?

Finally, something to be thankful for.

[honey-bell-aint-well]

How would Fresh react if a host he possessed, who knew what he was, wasn't resisting that much because they understood his situation and couldn't blame him, I mean he has to do that to live, and instead asked him to at least not drain them whole and leave them before they become unrecoverable, like that would be fair cause both of them deserve to live, and also just being very miserable and hurting and sad and silently begging for comfort and the same understanding they gave to him while they give him the saddest kicked puppy look in the mindscape/their imagination, ideally wanting to share control or at least for Fresh to occasionally humor them and listen to music or consume fiction they like, but doubting that would ever happen, and generally just hoping for Fresh to not be unnecessarily cruel?

First of all: Thank you for asking me a question about Fresh! Now I get to ramble >:3

Second: Interesting question. For the host it would be terrible, and I question why they would be so ready to hand their life over to someone else. Do they not have family or friends, are they not invested in their own life? Why? Are they a host by force or were they manipulated into it? Or did they give themselves up willingly? If it's the latter, then why?

Fresh probably wouldn't give them acknowledgement. He doesn't have the capacity to care about them, and he thinks of hosts as just tools. He wouldn't be cruel to them, because why unnecessarily hurt a body he's using? He doesn't want to feel pain.

But he canonically does enjoy it when the person he's possessing feels pain from him feeding on their soul. A quote from CQ: "In honesty, he’s just being sadistic and enjoys gaining control over others, especially if he tricked them beforehand. Possessing a crowd of people and making them do what he wants, just makes HIM happy. And by ‘happy’ I do mean his extremely numb, limited view on it."

But if he possesses them AFTER the Loveball? If he becomes capable of guilt, I think he'd still ignore their pleas, but this time out of a sense of self-preservation rather than indifference. I think he'd start to hate himself for it, but would be unable to even comprehend giving up the safety of having a host. His drive for survival is extremely strong. I think he can survive outside of a host, but his parasite form is very weak. I think he'd consider having a host to be necessary.

I also think he'd still be sadistic and enjoy their pain, but the enjoyment would be pretty soured by all of his new negative emotions.

I think, out of guilt, he'd let the host listen to songs and read fiction [as long as it isn't inappropriate. If it is then he'd censor it]. He'd probably do it very rarely though, and he'd be mad at himself for doing so. He's not used to guilt, and he doesn't understand why he's doing these things even though it doesn't benefit him. [Clarification: He'd be confused, but he'd default to anger because he's really bad at dealing with his emotions].

Over time as he feels more, he might begin to consider them more than just a tool. At that point, I think the guilt would be so strong that he'd feel physically sick. I don't know what he would do in that case.

And then there's the whole Loveball existential crisis. That definitely factors into this, but I'm not exactly sure how. He'd definitely keep trying to appear as his usual radical self, no matter how he feels. He might not succeed sometimes though, because having your entire worldview flipped.. that has the tendency of affecting people and how they interact with the world around them.

Thank you for asking! :D

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 19

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

The final interview ends up being really boring and long, even more then the literal test, you might have lived for billions of years but you have not felt such levels of unfun ever before... You have to give it to them, this is definitely impressive.

All about law and respectability and rules, things you understand are important for an hero to know but are so uninteresting to you...

... In contrast the questions created by Hotguy are a shift in tone that's for you, you don't even need the interviewer to tell you Hotguy wrote these because It's so blatantly obvious to you... They are also somehow much more thought invoking then the previous ones... Less...cut and dry...they are also phrased in a way that's not just prose and proper nouns and all that stuff.

You can tell that Hotguy really cares about this, you suppose he has every reason to... Then is another complete vibe chance as the last question comes, this one has Hero Association written all over it so much that it might as well count as an autograph.

"Do you believe you can fit in with the Hotguy brand?"

You know the god of heroes, you have talked once or twice or maybe a few hundred times, he would absolutely cringe at the thought of the profession being considered a brand. From what you have seen of HotGuy he probably does the same.

"Yes."

"How?"

You would make a joke about being very hpr but that would be equivalent to shooting yourself in the foot...Well, you have planned the perfect twist for this.

"Hotguy is the first hero with two powers."

"Indeed"

The interviewer is clearly not getting what you are trying to say, good. Surprises are always welcome.

You generate an arrow in your hand while spreading your wings.

"Hopefully, I'll be the second"

The interviewer is shocked, you tend to have that effect on people it seems... You silently say goodbye, now you just need to wait for an answer.

*Scar's pov*

You are called by the council, you don't really know why. You are sure you sent your questions, were they bad or something?

"We have found the perfect candidate."

Oh!...Wait, what?

"A-Already? It's been less then-"

"Yes, this one is special"

That's uh... Usually not good when they are the one to say it. Who did they pick?

"Special...? How?"

"He's like you."

Like... You...??

"... Uh?"

"Two powers. Wings like that of Sheriff and an ability to summon weapons at will... Has a fascination with arrows much like you."

"Oh...oh! . . . Oh I didn't expect that to ever happen... heh"

... You aren't the only one anymore...if he's better will you be replaced? ... No, no! They wouldn't...they wouldn't.

You should meet him then, if he's going to work with you then you are going to have to get along.

Well, if he answered your question at least mostly correctly then you are sure you are going to get along well... You'll have to ask Cub for his score.

"HE GOT ALL MY QUESTIONS WRONG!?!"

"Don't shout in my lab Scar"

"... Sorry Cub... I just... I just can't believe he got all my questions wrong and still got a 98% in the interview."

"I can, your questions were the last ten out of five hundred made by the association. You should have really written more."

"Oh...well maybe they should have written less... five hundred questions for an interview is insane."

"Can't argue with that"

Ok, so maybe you and the sidekick think nothing alike, that's fine, you can still be friendly... You are sure you can trust the association... It's not like they have ever...well, not too often... not always.

You open the door and-

"Coffee guy???"

[supercorpkid]

The Best Kind of Trouble - part 1

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader! Kara Danvers. Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 3645.

The other part is coming soon.

Ever since you met Lena, the two of you have had a knack for stumbling into the strangest situations together. It’s almost like the universe has a sense of humor at your expense. But every time it happens, you find yourself quietly asking: How did we get here?

Take the first time you met her. It was Alex’s birthday, and she’d dragged everyone out to a bar she swore was ‘low-key and chill’, but turned out to be neither. You exchanged a soft hey with Lena when Kara introduced you, your eyes flickering up just long enough to clock how ridiculously stunning she was before quickly looking away. She was nice, but that was it. 

And yet, by the end of the night, you found yourself sitting on her lap.

It wasn’t like you’d planned it, obviously. Everyone was too wasted to drive, and when you were all cramming into the car, someone pointed out there weren’t enough seats for everyone to sit properly. As the smallest person in the group, the solution seemed obvious to them—if not to you. Not Alex’s lap, because her girlfriend might have something to say about that. Not Kara’s, because she’d called shotgun before anyone could argue. And not Nia’s, because Brainy would enjoy less than someone splitting an atom incorrectly.

So there you were, perched awkwardly on Lena’s thighs as the car lurched into motion. Her hand rested on the edge of the seat, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her skin through your jeans. It was fine. A bit uncomfortable, sure. And definitely weird. But fine. At least until Kelly hit a pothole, and your body jolted against hers, leaving you both a little too aware of how close you actually were.

The second time you meet, it’s just you and Lena—stuck in an elevator at the DEO. The system glitches mid-maintenance, and before you can process what’s happening, the elevator groans to a stop. You and Lena exchange wide-eyed glances.

“At least we’re not free-falling,” Lena quips, though the sheen of sweat on her brow betrays her ease.

You press the emergency call button. After a pause, Alex’s voice cracks through the speaker. “What’s up?” she asks casually, like it isn’t a full-blown crisis.

“We’re stuck,” Lena steps closer to the panel, her voice calm but sharp. “Care to fix that before this turns into a sauna?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex replies, like she just remembered. “Tech says it’s a quick fix. A few minutes, tops.”

Lena arches a skeptical brow at the speaker. “A few minutes,” she repeats, unimpressed.

“Promise,” Alex’s smirk is practically audible. “Try not to kill each other.”

The line clicks off, leaving silence. You sigh and lean against the wall. A few minutes stretch into twenty. The air thick, hot, and stifling, makes Lena shrug off her blazer, folding it neatly as she leans back against the opposite wall.

“You should lose the jacket,” she suggests casually, adjusting the collar of her blouse.

You hesitate but eventually give in. The all-black uniform feels unbearable, and you pull it off, revealing a thin, sweat-soaked white tank top beneath—and yes, you’re aware it’s completely see-through. Lena’s gaze lingers a second too long, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“What?” you ask, your voice tighter than you’d like.

“Nothing,” she murmurs, her tone softer. “You’re just really flushed. You alright?”

“Really hot circumstances, you know,” you reply quickly, and the instant the words leave your mouth, you regret them. The double meaning isn’t lost on her, and her smile deepens.

“Do tell.” Her gaze flicks back to the floor a beat too late.

Alex’s voice breaks in, unprompted. “Sorry, guys. A few more minutes. But hey, silver lining—you’ve got each other!”

Lena closes her eyes briefly, her fingers gripping the panel’s edge. “Wonderful. Thanks, Alex.”

Lena mutters, the words like a half-hearted attempt at dismissal. Her gaze lingers on you a second too long, and there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—a warmth that doesn’t quite match the cool distance she’s trying to keep.

“Anytime,” Alex chirps, clearly ignoring the sarcasm, before the line clicks dead.

Lena moves back to the wall—closer this time. Her arm brushes yours, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine despite the oppressive heat.

She starts a soft conversation to pass the time, but every glance she steals, every movement she makes, feels like static in the air. Her hand brushes yours again, and this time neither of you pulls away.

The air between you shifts. You meet her gaze, and Lena meets yours, her eyes darker and deeper than you’ve ever seen. For a heartbeat, it’s just her. Just the heat of her gaze.

Then the elevator jolts, snapping the moment like a rubber band. Lena straightens her blouse, retrieves her blazer, and slips back into her usual composure like armor.

“Well,” her lips curl into a faint smile, “let’s not make a habit of only meeting in these weird situations.”

You nod, following her out into the cool hallway, but the memory of her gaze lingers—along with the heat that has nothing to do with the elevator.

And then, it does become a habit.

There’s the storm during a game night at Kara’s apartment. The power goes out, and everyone splits up to search for flashlights. Somehow, you and Lena end up fumbling in the same closet, searching for batteries. It’s pitch black, the kind of darkness that muffles everything, even the sound of your own breath.

Your hands brush—once, then again—and you freeze. The silence between you feels deafening, and just as your breath catches, Lena breaks it with a low, teasing murmur. “Should I be worried you keep trying to hold my hand?”

It’s playful. Too playful. But the words hang in the air like an open challenge, and you can’t quite laugh the way you want to. Instead, your breath stops, and that awkward sound you make isn’t nearly enough to push the tension away.

It only makes it worse. You can feel the charge between you, an electric hum that shivers down your spine. It wraps around your chest, your pulse racing with it. Then, just as the moment is about to consume you, the lights flicker back on. The sudden brightness stings your eyes, and it’s like the world has slapped you back into reality.

You blink, disoriented, standing there in the small closet, the air between you still heavy and thick. Too close. You’re too close.

“Look at us,” Lena whispers, breath hot on your face. “Stuck together somewhere small and hot.” Her words roll out slowly, like she’s savoring them. “It agrees with you.”

The words settle on your skin like a flame, and your throat goes dry, your chest tight. You stay frozen in place, unable to form the words that might undo whatever she just implied. She steps out of the closet, leaving you standing there, the heat of her words still burning into your skin.

Small and hot. Was she talking about you?

Of course, you’re roped into helping Nia move into Brainy’s new place. The apartment is a disaster zone—boxes everywhere, and Brainy’s color-coded system only makes things worse. The real issue? The couch. An L-shaped monstrosity that refuses to budge no matter what you do.

Alex is running late, Kara has a Supergirl emergency, and Brainy has to leave too. So now it’s a five-person job being executed by you.

Just as you’re about to lose your mind, Lena breezes in, taking in the chaos. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“Fighting for my life,” you say, sweat dripping.

She steps closer, looking annoyingly perfect in her blouse and jeans. “It looks like you’re losing.”

“Glad you could join us. Came to judge, or help?”

“You know I love watching people fail,” Lena smirks, crouching by the couch. “Have you tried taking the legs off?”

“The legs?” You narrow your eyes. “That’s your solution?”

“It’s called problem-solving,” she says, inspecting the bolts with an infuriatingly calm precision. “You should try it sometime.”

You grab the screwdriver. “Fine. Let’s see if your genius plan works.”

It works. Because Lena is a genius. An annoyingly pretty, rich, flirty genius. But it works at the expense of her being so close to you, you can’t think straight—pun intended. Her perfume is maddeningly pleasant, and her eyes are provocatively distracting. It works at the expense of your sanity.

“You’re blushing,” she teases.

“No, I’m sweating,” you snap, looking away.

When the move is over, Alex strolls in with a six-pack, pretending she didn’t miss all the hard work. You're annoyed, but then Lena leans in beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

And somehow, you’re not mad anymore.

Once again, you're dragged into something you have no business being a part of. Kara needed help with a DEO tech project, and as you step into the lab, it hits you—you’re the only uniformed officer here. The other two? Alex and Lena. Of course.

“Kara? Why am I here?” you ask, already suspicious.

“We need the brightest minds for this!” Kara beams.

You arch an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then why am I here?”

Lena chuckles softly, her gaze sweeping over you with a hint of mischief. “Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than you think.”

It takes you a second to process the unexpected compliment. You snort, trying to play it off. “If you say so.”

Before you can protest further, Alex’s phone buzzes, and her face shifts into full-on mission mode. “Crisis. Gotta go.”

“Wait, you’re leaving us?” Unbelievable. Somehow, you’re always the one stuck with Lena. And, annoyingly, it secretly thrills you.

“We trust you two,” Kara says with a reassuring pat on your arm before she and Alex rush out the door.

Lena shrugs, her smirk firmly in place. “Looks like it’s just us.”

Great. Just you, Lena, and whatever tension has been simmering between you lately. You try to focus on the device in front of you—some kind of world-saving gadget Kara swore needed attention—but it’s nearly impossible with Lena standing so close.

“Fantastic,” you mutter under your breath. “Just me and the world-saving gadget.”

Lena leans in, her shoulder brushing yours ever so slightly, her voice dropping to a maddeningly low pitch. “You’ve got a brilliant mind, and I’m a genius. We’re good together.”

The double meaning in her words isn’t lost on you. Your throat tightens, your pulse kicking up. You grin despite yourself, hoping to keep things light. “Flattery? Is that how you survive the workday?”

Her smile lingers, warmer this time. “Maybe. But I mean it.”

The air between you shifts—heavier now, charged. Every glance, every brush of her hand sends your focus spinning. And then, as if the universe wants to make things even more difficult, Lena stretches, her shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of a tattoo. Your mouth goes dry.

“Everything okay?” she asks, turning her head just enough to catch you staring.

You force a laugh, trying to sound normal. “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Her eyes narrow, amusement dancing in their depths. “Are you sure? You’re looking a little… flushed.”

You should’ve seen it coming—the teasing, the way her words seem to coil around you, the brush of her fingers against your arm. You should’ve expected it, but you’re thrown every time.

“Hot,” you blurt out, feeling like an idiot. “The room. It’s just... so hot.”

She leans in, impossibly close now, her breath brushing against your skin as she whispers, “You do tend to run hot a lot, don’t you?”

Your brain short-circuits. The world narrows to just her—the warmth of her proximity, the scent of her perfume, the way her voice feels like it’s wrapping around your chest and pulling tight. You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.

When you don’t respond, she pulls back with a soft exhale, her gaze lingering. “Maybe we should take a break,” she suggests, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You nod too quickly, practically bolting for the air vent. Sitting on the floor directly beneath it, you try to calm your racing heart. But of course, Lena follows, settling beside you—close enough to make you question if she’s doing it on purpose.

“You look tired,” she says after a beat.

“I’m fine,” you lie, closing your eyes like that might drown out the scent of her perfume or the way she’s completely invaded your space. “Just need a minute.”

And somehow, the next thing you know, you’re waking up with your cheek pressed to her shoulder. Her scent is intoxicating, her warmth like a trap you don’t want to escape. Your heart stutters as you jerk away. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax, darling.” Her smirk is maddening, her tone teasing but impossibly soft. “I told you—you were tired.”

Your face burns. “Yeah, but I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” Her grin doesn’t falter, her eyes dancing with something that makes your stomach flip. “I didn’t mind.”

Before you can say anything else, Kara and Alex return, their voices pulling you back to reality. You scramble to your feet, putting as much space as possible between you and Lena. But as the lab hums back to life, her warmth lingers on your skin, and her knowing smile burns in your mind, refusing to fade.

Then again you’ve somehow ended up in the thick of feelings you can't even comprehend.

“Director Danvers?” You press the comm into your ear, the usual buzz of activity humming in the background. “I’m in position for the lookout.” You scan the area once more, making sure no one’s watching. “And it seems I’m the only one here.”

“Great. Supergirl’s on her way with backup,” comes Alex’s voice over the comm, calm but urgent. “Just sit tight and take pictures if you see someone entering the place. We need proof this is a Cadmus lair.”

“Copy that. I’ll stay put.”

The place they’ve stationed you at is… unexpected. You thought secret lairs were supposed to be hidden, not right on the water like some kind of expensive real estate. The view is gorgeous—wide, endless blue stretching out to meet the horizon, the water sparkling in the late afternoon light. It almost feels too peaceful for the task at hand.

Minutes later, you hear the faint sound of a familiar whoosh, and Supergirl lands beside you, Lena tucked gently in her arms. As she sets Lena down, Kara gives you a brief smile. “Okay, I’ll leave you two here for a minute. I’ll be back to pick you up before we break in. Lena, use the watch if you need me.”

Lena gives her a small nod, her eyes lingering on Kara for just a moment before she turns to you. “We’ll keep a lookout, boss.” She tries to be casual, but there's an edge of uncertainty in her voice.

Kara winks before she takes off, leaving you alone with Lena. You know it’s time to talk. You’ve been avoiding her—after that last time you saw her, when you fell asleep on her shoulder, things have been weirder. But now, standing next to her, so close, you can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t matter. You have to break the silence.

“Hey,” you say, your voice is a little softer than you meant. She glances at you, her expression unreadable for a beat before she offers you a tight smile.

Lena takes a seat next to you, her gaze shifting toward the lair. “Looks like something my mother would do,” she says, voice steady but with a hint of something else you can’t quite place. “Have a secret lair in plain sight. With a view like that.”

She gestures toward the building, but it’s clear her attention is more on you than the lair. You catch her glance, and for a moment, you’re not sure if it’s just the light or if her eyes are a little softer than usual.

“It is gorgeous,” you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. You’re not sure if you’re still talking about the view. It’s hard to focus on anything else with her so close—so close that you can feel the warmth from her body.

Lena shifts a little, and her leg brushes against yours. The contact is light, but it makes your heart stutter. She doesn’t pull away. Neither do you.

The two of you stay silent for a beat, the tension hanging in the air like a storm ready to break. You wonder if she feels it too—the quiet, invisible thread between you. Her hand, resting casually on the edge of the bench, inches closer to yours. You’re acutely aware of the soft sound of her breath, the way her shoulder brushes yours when she shifts.

For a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and everything else—the lair, the mission—fades into the background. It’s just Lena, and you, and the air between you that’s thick with unspoken words.

And then you realize—you’ve been holding your breath.

You blink, coming out of your dream-like state, and press the comm in your ear. "Director, we're about to lose daylight soon." You glance at the sky, watching the soft pink hues spread across the horizon. "Should we move?"

“No, stay put. Supergirl’s following Lillian’s car as we speak. She might be approaching the lair.”

“Copy that.” You bite your lip, still feeling the weight of the moment, and glance back at Lena. “You’re okay? With... all of this? The whole situation with your mom?”

“Oh, yeah. I know what the Luthors are capable of,” she says with a quiet resolve. Her eyes stay fixed on the lair, but you catch the flicker of something deeper behind her words. “I’m just glad we’re here to help.”

You nod, agreeing with her sentiment, but there's something unspoken hanging in the air between you two.

“The sun’s setting soon,” you say, fidgeting with the small flashlight in your hand. “I have this, but I don’t think we can use it without giving away our position.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lena replies, her voice light, trying to brush off the tension. “I’m not scared of the dark. Unless… you are.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a playful side-eye. “Please. I’m an agent of a secret organization. There are very few things I’m scared of.”

Lena leans in, her gaze intense yet teasing, and her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh? Do tell.” she whispers, as if the question is more of an invitation than anything else.

Her proximity makes your heart skip a beat. The warm air between you feels electric, charged with an unspoken challenge. For a moment, you forget about the mission, your mind drifting away, caught in the rhythm of her words, the softness of her breath.

You almost want to tell her that you are scared—scared of this, right here. Scared of how close you’ve gotten, of how something so small—a glance, a smile, a shared silence—feels like it’s pulling you in, deeper and deeper. Scared of where it might lead, or worse, scared that it might not lead anywhere at all.

The words hang in your throat, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, you shrug, your smile a little too soft as you watch her, feeling the warmth in your chest. “You know, there are just some things even secret agents can’t prepare for. Like... how distracting a pretty face can be.”

Lena studies you, her gaze softening as she leans in just a little, her eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. She’s so close now, and the air between you is thick with something unspoken, charged with a tension that feels almost electric. Your heart races and everything else fades away.

Then, just as you think she’s about to close the gap, her lips brush against yours—the softest, most fleeting contact. It sends a jolt through you, a rush of warmth that leaves you breathless, like time itself has stilled for a heartbeat.

But before you can even fully process it, Supergirl’s voice crackles through the comm, “Guys, she took a detour. I think you’re in the wrong place.”

The sudden interruption shatters the moment, and you both pull back quickly, your breath shaky, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. Lena’s gaze flits away from you, disappointment settling heavily in the air, though neither of you says a word.

“What should we do?” you ask into the comm, trying to steady your voice.

“I'll follow through. We have more agents here. You two head back to the DEO. We’ll see you soon.”

You glance back at Lena, a flicker of disappointment in your eyes. “Back to business as usual, then?”

Lena meets your gaze, her expression soft and sincere, but there’s a wistful edge to her voice. “I hope not.”

The flirtation between you two, once subtle, quickly intensifies. The soft touches, the lingering glances, evolve into something raw—unspoken, but palpable. It feels magnetic, inevitable, like you're helplessly swept into something you can’t escape. You can't not flirt back, can't not lean into the charged moments between you.

There’s something heady in the way she looks at you, in the tension you both refuse to acknowledge. It’s like standing on the edge of something deeper, something that makes your heart race and your thoughts scatter. You can’t name it, but it’s undeniable, humming in the silence. The air around you crackles, thick with something everyone else seems to notice, too.

And that’s why you keep ending up in situations like this. Over and over, like you’re addicted to the chaos of it all. To the way she pulls you into these intoxicating, strange moments. And now, you're left wondering if it’s the situation you crave—or just her.

Whatever it is, you need more of it.

[wejustvibing]

Look, I know Fred wanted it (debut with post season testing in Abu Dhabi) to happen. For me, I was in two minds. Driving the red car for the first time in Abu Dhabi does not excite me. In a perfect world, you’d get to drive it and not be seen and do the first rollout next year. When I did raise it, obviously with Toto, they had all these plans that I’ve got to go and see some of the sponsors and say their farewells.

So I don’t think it was ever going to actually be allowed, even if I’d asked to have done it. But because I’m contracted to the team until December 31st – and that’s totally fine. But it doesn’t bother me, again, because I wasn’t going to do the test. It’s not what I wanted to do. I told Fred that’s not what I wanted to do. Am I missing out on something? For sure. It definitely delays the process and makes the start of the year harder, but we’ll do our best to recover.

- Lewis Hamilton

[creative-frequency]

Yay! I'm glad to hear that Rook's wyvern has struck a chord with you (and others? oh, my! I'm actually so flustered and flattered right now, thank you for telling me 🥹)! Also, what do you think the of the wyvern being named 'Knight' or 'Queen' (you know, because Rook is called 'Rook')?

Anyway! How do you think that first meeting between the wyvern and Lucanis went (at least from Luncanis's perspective)? Like was he about to arrive at the Lighthouse for the first time before Rook is all, 'Oh! Hey, Lucanis, one last thing before we arrive. You don't have any wyvern poison on you, right? My wyvern companion will want to give you a quick sniff and she might mistake you for a rival if that's the first thing she smells on you.' Would Lucanis even believe it until he sees it?

This man better be ready for the good things that are about to happen to him 💚

Rook's Wyvern: First Meeting with Lucanis

The wyvern should definitely be named something royal like Queen, Marquis, or Baron.

Let’s go with Baroness for this one! She would have blue stripes across her scales.

Lucanis would be so dumbstruck at Rook’s unexpected inquiry that he would have to process the information in pieces: “What? Why would I have wyvern poison on me? And, what do you mean by ‘my wyvern companion’? Wait. You have a wyvern? Here?”

Rook is not sure if the assassin is terrified or not.

Cue three different variations of the question: “You have an actual wyvern? How?”

When he gets the confusion cleared, palpable enthusiasm quickly follows. Rook is baffled, while Lucanis is vibrating with excitement but desperately tries to rein it down.

After Lucanis is introduced to the other Veilguard members and settled down (and Spite has calmed down), Rook would suggest that they go meet the Baroness now – if Lucanis can afford the time, of course.

“Yes. Lead the way.” The man would not hesitate. If this turns out to be an elaborate joke or a misunderstanding, all his hopes and dreams will be crushed.

It’s better to be proactive rather than wait for Baroness to realise there is a new person in her territory aka the Lighthouse.

Lucanis would try to play it cool because they only just met with Rook and he wants to make a professional impression, but damn it’s hard not to geek out.

He would coolly (not really) mention that he has been really interested in wyverns ever since he was a boy.

Rook would be so relieved to hear this because normally they have to persuade people into this meeting process that is meant for their own safety.

Lucanis waits a good distance away at first.

Rook has their way of calling the Baroness and when she arrives, Lucanis is completely amazed as he stares at the real live wyvern. For a small moment, everything is worth it.

Lucanis would be floored by the way Rook handles the astonishing creature. Even Spite would be impressed at the presence and bond those two command.

Rook talks to the wyvern like one talks to an intelligent creature and introduces Lucanis with a heavy emphasis on “He is part of our team.”

Rook motions Lucanis to stay still. Baroness takes a sniff of the air, then carefully paces closer to sniff his clothes before backing away and leaving.

Lucanis is still staring.

“Curious. She likes you.”

He wants to hear everything about Baroness and what Rook knows about wyverns. Rook will promise Baroness will surely allow him to pet her if he would like to.

This is the best thing that has happened to Lucanis in his whole life.

[alexthebordercollie]

I know this definitely wasn’t the point of your post but this line “I think he gets shipped with Stanley by people who want to see Stanley get that kind of overbearing love that Fidds showed to Ford. I do understand wanting to give him that kind of partner but Ford deserves love too,” in your Fiddleauthor comic post made me think… what about aro/ace Stan. It seems like a lot of Fiddlestan shippers only ship it because they want Stan to have that overwhelming love or whatever, but do these people ever consider that maybe the only overwhelming love Stan wants/needs is familial? The most important relationships in his life are all family, and considering his repeated mentions of failing at romance/the implication he engaged in sex work, I can totally see him just straight up having no interest in romance or sex at all. In my opinion, the most realistic scenario (and probably the best for everyone involved) is Stan being aro/ace and happy for his brother and his brother’s partner, being supported and loved non-romantically and being perfectly content with that. It certainly makes a lot more sense then breaking up Fiddauthor which has so much canon basis and taking away Ford’s support system.

Ok so I've got a lot of thoughts here, but it's a great point to bring up. I'll start by offering up some art of Stan and the beans then dig into my thoughts.

Nikola is speech delayed while Newton is an early yapper.

So I think the point about Stanley being happiest with familial love is a fantastic one. He's clearly someone who values family a lot and they seem to be his most consistent source of happiness. I think lot of people undervalue platonic love next to romantic love and I think that's a waste.

That said I don't see Stan being aro/ace, like it's a fun headcannon and I can understand the logic behind it. It's just I think something else is going on. I think Stan's issue is that he's terrified of emotional intimacy. Something backed up in the show by repeated examples of him avoiding being vulnerable in front of people. I think what happens with Stan is he tends to self-sabotage his relationships anytime they get too close out of fear. The sort of thing that likely stems from the trauma of being abused and rejected by his own family. He doesn't want to get close enough to someone new for them to hurt him. Avoidant attachment style

Family is different though. I think he has an easier time being close to family because there's this built-in connection and he isn't pressured to be vulnerable in the same way a romantic partner might pressure him. Instead, he has more of the space to open up at his own pace.

Speaking of, by that same metric. I actually think if he and Fidds ever happened, he'd probably sabotage the relationship pretty fast. Fiddleford loves rather aggressively and with an open hand and I actually think Stan would find it overwhelming. I feel like he would panic having someone shower him with gifts and bail.

Personally, I might ship Stan with someone else in this AU later on down the line though I'm still not sure yet if I want to fully commit to the idea. For now either way I see him spending at least the first few years of his nephew's lives completely single so he can focus solely on being a good uncle. He loves these boys like his own and he's just as involved in their upbringing as Ford and Fidds.

If I do ship Stan with someone at some point it's not because he needs a romantic partner. It's just because I found a ship I think could be fun to explore. Stanley doesn't need a girlfriend or boyfriend. He is perfectly content being the bachelor uncle and helping raise his brother's kids.

[beelinx]

pink cat ear headphones

synopsis: your minecraft dogs went missing, and tomura looks mighty suspicious. also, he’s wearing pink cat ear headphones… okay then! warnings: kinda all around the place, and perhaps ooc tomura 😖 use of baby as a pet name + suggestive ending 1.3k words

if anyone were to look into the scene going on right now, they’d probably laugh and say it’s clearly fake. surely, the fearsome leader of the league of villains, the tomura shigaraki, couldn’t be sitting with his legs crossed, scratching his neck and munching on some chips while he plays minecraft.

wearing cat ear headphones.

pink cat ear headphones.

this simply looked way too ridiculous to ever be true, and yet here it was.

to be clear, though, the headphones did not belong to him.

his high quality headset (which did not have cat ears) broke a while back, after a couple of months of its quality slowly decaying. and, since the league had been pretty tight on money, he’d not been able to replace it yet. so, he had to look for the next best thing.

that being your cute, pink spare headphones.

honestly, he was not embarrassed by the headset itself. it was actually pretty good, the sound quality being almost on par with his old headset’s. and it was really comfortable, too. it sat snuggly on his head and provided sufficient blocking of outside noise.

also, they were yours. 

therefore, he loved them.

when he first tried them on, he’d worried about what his comrades would think about him wearing said device. he’d imagined toga or magne might like them, which somehow pissed him off. spinner might like them too, since the quality is good. mr. compress would probably say something about a fashion statement or whatever. twice could laugh at him, but tomura figured he didn’t mind what he thought very much. then there was dabi, who’d definitely get a kick out of seeing him wear the headset.

whatever, he couldn’t care less about what they thought now. not since you thought he looked cute wearing them.

“babe?”

he hummed in reply, too focused on the game right now to form a proper response.

“d’you know where my dogs are? i can’t find them anywhere, and i didn’t make them stand.” you asked him with your usual sweet voice.

he didn’t reply. mostly because he did know where your dogs were. well, they weren’t exactly anywhere, if he was really going to get down to it, because they got blown up by a creeper.

he felt guilty about it, especially because it was his fault. kinda. well, it was a mistake. 

tomura was returning to the base to store all he gathered in the mines, when a creeper snuck up on him. it blew up, immediately ending the lives of your three cute dogs. at the time, he blamed his battered headset for not letting him hear the monster on time, and he’d managed to ignore the issue, since you hadn’t joined the world in a while. now, though, you decided you wanted to play with him.

he was kinda lucky though, since you insisted on finding new animals for your farm, still blissfully oblivious to what had happened to your pets. meanwhile, tomura was desperately trying to find new wolves to bring to the base. his current plan, once he’d successfully captured the animals, was to then distract you to do something else, or wait until you had to go to the bathroom, and tame them on your account. then, he’d use the dye and name tags he’d premade, to properly ensure you wouldn’t tell the difference between your original dogs and these new impostors.

it was going smoothly. 

until this.

he replied slowly, not wanting to bring suspicion unto himself, “...they aren’t at the base?”

“no, they’re not where i left them,” you pouted. he risked a look at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you desperately looked for the three creatures.

“i’m at the netherworld right now, i’ll help you look when i leave,” he replied, glad that his setup was out of view for you, so he could lie about this. then, before you could say anything else, he added, “maybe they despawned? they didn’t have any name tags on them.”

that was a reach, a really desperate one at that. he knew that, but he silently hoped that your minecraft knowledge was lacking and you wouldn’t realize.

“but they’re dogs? i tamed them, so they shouldn’t despawn,” he silently cursed himself for teaching you the game all those days back, “can creepers explode if something else triggers them? like beside the players?”

okay, admittedly, he considered lying to you again. the possibilities of his plan working tempting him incredibly. but, something was compelling him to tell you the truth. so, he did. in the sweetest, most loving way possible.

“i fucking blew them up.”

oh.

“…you what?”

“a creeper snuck up on me and blew them to pieces,” he rasped, “i was getting you new ones but since you’re so nosy.”

tomura rolled his eyes to finish off his statement. you merely stared at him in pure shock. why wouldn’t he tell you? losing your dogs made you sad, but you didn’t mind so much, since you knew it was an accident. also, no matter how indifferent he tries to seem, you know better. just the fact he was trying to replace your dogs without letting you know as to not to hurt your feelings tells you all you need to know:

tomura shigaraki cares for you, and he’s willing to do or say anything if it means ensuring your happiness.

his way of demonstrating this was a little… rough, but he couldn’t hide his true self from you, not when you know him so well.

“baby… i don’t mind the dogs, i know you didn’t mean to,” you assured him, “i just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me? you know i wouldn’t have gotten mad at you, especially since it was a mistake.”

he didn’t turn to look at you, his mind still glued to the screen, where he was still on the hunt for wild wolves, “i wanted to get them for you before you realized. that’s it.”

your face broke into a soft, lovesick smile at his words. sure, they didn’t sound that sweet on the exterior, but you knew tomura, and you knew videogames were his love language. him giving you a minecraft flower would basically be the equivalent of giving you an engagement ring. therefore, to you this felt like him playing you a boombox outside your window to apologize for a mistake. 

“awww,” you cooed at him, “that’s so cute, tomura! you really wanted me to not get upset, huh? you’re the sweetest ever!” you giggled as you jumped on his lap.

“yeah, whatever,” he hissed back, one hand scratching his neck while the other held you at your waist, the game now discarded, merely serving as background noise. he avoided eye contact with you, his eyes trained on his desk. still though, you swore you could make out a light, pink dusting on his cheeks.

“well actually… i think i deserve some sort of compensation for this,” you faked an exaggerated pout at him, “you know, for killing my poor, innocent dogs.”

tomura’s grip on your hip grew tighter, as he replied, his voice husky, “what kind of compensation?”

you giggled softly, and instead of replying, you grabbed his chin and connected both of your lips. he kissed you back eagerly, using his grip on your hips to bring you closer to him. his hands started to wander, but before he could get any ideas, you pulled away.

“that’s it, enough compensation,” you told him, grinning cheekily.

“are you serious?” he hissed back at you in reply.

“what?” you asked him, feigning innocence, “i’m still grieving my dogs, you know.”

he rolled his eyes, “you are so annoying.”

without another word, he picked you up and threw you on the bed, making sure to compensate you properly for the incident.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Here’s some random Port Mafia headcanons I have.

Both public and private transport was safe and ran smoothly in Yokohama up until Albatross’s death.

Kouyou had an alt phase as a teenager and had burned all evidence of it. A quick way to get sent to an early grave is to bring it up.

Higuchi will pull rank on Gin and Tachihara if she needs too. But she refuses to pull rank on Hirotsu.

Akutagawa hates coffee and every time he’s forced to drink it for a long mission he adds a truly unethical amount of cream and sugar to it.

And he’ll still grumble that it’s too bitter.

Anytime anyone complains about work being hard Kouyou and Hirotsu regale them with tales of working for the old boss. Oh is the paperwork a lot? At least you won’t see someone shot 50 times for writing in blue pen.

Akutagawa and Gin had a bet going on to see how long it would take the others to release she was a girl and his sister.

Chuuya expected Hirotsu to hold a grudge when they met again. But Hirotsu simply said Chuyya’s hat suited him. And left saying to call him if he ever wanted to get a drink.

Chuuya grinned and said he’d take him up on that. Well if Hirotsu was paying which made the other chuckle.

Pianoman can actually play piano.

Mori regularly sends assassins after Fukuzawa to make sure he isn’t getting too rusty.

Tachihara dyed his hair brown for an undercover mission and refused to look in the mirror afterwards.

Verlaine is the boogeyman of the Port Mafia. He has definitely used it to fuck with people for his own amusement though he denies it every time.

Mori has shown up late to meetings because he’s gone for a walk in the city and dropped everything when a medical emergency has happened.

He hears “is there a doctor here?!” And instantly runs over to help.

Kajii has become so invested in an experiment he started writing his theories on the walls of his lab because he ran out of paper.

No one has managed to guess Hirotsu’s age.

Chuuya’s the only person Kouyou acts her age around.

Tachihara and Higuchi go to shooting ranges together when they’re stressed.

When Alabatross first got his moniker he would make bird sounds anytime his name was mentioned.

Mori’s scarf isn’t the original Port Mafia Boss scarf. It’s the 3rd iteration and if you squint closely you can see the remains of a cut off price tag.

Lippman can do scarcely accurately impressions of the rest of the flags and several other Port Mafia members. He has used this power to prank call the other flags.

[yantalia545]

Yandere Germany with a darling who has an innocent culture

Germany didn't really know what to expect when investigating a new country. For starters, you ran right up to him. No weapons, no gunman. Just open arms and a flower crown that you placed on his head on the tips of your toes. They're your national flowers and you wanted to share them with the strange visitor.

The villagers were all over him too. Followed by gifts and stories of how they've never met someone from "The vast oceans", as they put it. You and your people have never left the island you resided on. It was strange how he even got here in the first place, but it sure was exciting.

Germany didn't know how to feel about it all. He wasn't sure what he was to expect, but this sure wasn't it. He couldn't deny the warmth he felt in his chest as he was pulled left and right by happy, curious people. Or was that just his nervousness? Germany was afraid that this was all a ruse. He made sure to keep his guard up just to be sure, but nothing ever happened. The only thing that came from you was curiosity and excitement. It strangely reminded of Italy and he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

There was one thing he was sure of though; If you are this open to everyone, you'll get eaten alive by the others. His experience with them says so.

Your culture's choice of clothing was another story. It was much more revealing than anything. Your breasts were only covered by a see-through lace top for crying out loud. To say he was a flustered mess was an understatement and judging by the other's exposed state, this was just how your people dressed. Stating that it's in your culture to be proud of the body your family has passed down to you over many generations didn't help either: However, very interesting.

This side of you would definitely be taken advantage of by the others.

The flustered drag through your home was strangely pleasant. How can it not when a cute girl is pulling you around to show you everything? When it was his turn to share all he knew about "The Vast Ocean" you were all wide-eyed and smiled. You couldn't fathom that there were actually other islands beyond the sea. It was honestly adorable in Germany's eyes.

He had taken it upon himself to check out all that you had to offer and set up trade deals and contracts with him. Did he take advantage of you? Maybe a little. You were just so interested in all the strange things he had brought from his lands that you just had to have them.; and see more.

When Germany had to leave you had insisted on coming along. Intrigued about what else this strange visitor had to offer. Much to his strange excitement. There was just something so innocently calming about having you around. He honestly thought of you as a puppy sometimes the way you were excited about the most mundane things. It was so adorable.

As time went on the two of you become close friends with Germany looking over you any way he could. To the others, you looked like a newly discovered colony that Germany had taken under his wing.

He kind of liked that idea. That way, you couldn’t be taken by another, more harmful, nation. You and your people wouldn’t stand a chance. If fact, you barely had anything to protect yourself and had almost no sense of danger.

He had to protect you. He doesn't know why he personally feels so strongly about protecting someone he hardly knows, but he does. Maybe because he sees himself in you from a time he was an innocent boy? He feels the need to protect your innocence; A gift he wasn't lucky enough to receive.

Your curiosity in the other nations unsettles him. Why can't those curious eyes and perfect smile be reserved for only him? An unfamiliar feeling will carve its way into Germany's heart anytime he sees you so much as conversing with another country. Too much uneasiness eating away at him over your safety.

Germany, as your first and closest friend in the new world, will advise you to keep your distance from the others. He'll reveal their horror stories of the past if it means planting a seed of doubt and fear of the others. His arms are warm though. Germany is your friend. He'll keep you safe.

Germany will slowly pull you closer into his arms as he grows your distance from the others. You'll grow fearful of the others. They're dangerous and are capable of a great deal of harm to you and your people, but don't worry, Germany's here. He'll protect you.

You'll grow cautious of others and the outside world. Taken by German's advice. Something he's proud of. How quickly you've grown to trust his every whim. He'll most certainly take advantage of that.

As he feeds off your fears, Germany will slowly bring in the reins around you. Trading with others will have to go through him first, for example. You wouldn't want to bad deal and jeopardize the well-being of your people, would you? Let him help you. Germany has never steered you wrong before.

Alliances with others is a no-go, waaaaaay off the table. If you had others, you wouldn't rely on him so dependently. Germany can't stand that thought. He'll do anything to keep you under his control.

If you do ever reveal the veil of his lies, though, there are always other, more gruesome, measures that can be taken. After all, he would always enjoy your company. You'll never have the chance to leave him in your weak state. The cruel reality is that your technology is too far behind to even dream of fighting Germany. It's too late to back down. You will swallow your fate one way or another as an underling of Germany, and he, will take care of his darling, little colony.