#because oof I just had that on repeat the entire night

[hwalilac]

Waiting

⇴ pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

⇴ genre: smut

⇴ words: 1.2k

⇴ warnings: thigh grinding, unprotected, bratty reader

⇴ a/n: feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!

⇴ tags: @hyuckilstan @star1117-archives @whatudowhennooneseesyou @jwnghyuns @az-con @noonaishere

Hongjoong was so sick of your fooling around. He had to work. He was so busy preparing for the comeback. And you knew that. But honestly? It’s been about a month since you two had sex. You were quite desperate. Too many nights you’d spend with your old, trusty vibrating wand. But it couldn’t satisfy you forever. You had to do something about the constant need to fuck him.

So here you were yet again, sitting on the couch in his studio, watching him play around with the same track he’s been retouching for a week straight. You’ve already pushed once, and he brushed you off before continuing his work. It immediately put a frown on your face, but it made you want him even more. He’s so fucking rough with you when he’s 1. stressed, and 2. irritated. Nothing like a good fuck to lighten the mood.

After a good ten minutes passes, it’s finally time to push forward with your plan. You get off the couch and slowly slink towards him, like a predator with its prey. Honestly, he might as well be your prey. You softly wrap one arm around his neck, the other pulling one of his earbuds out of his ear. Immediately his attention is one you, though you can feel the irritation seeping from his entire being.

“Joongie,” you whine. It always works. Except, this time whining doesn’t get you anywhere. “Baby, please, just give me a few more minutes”, he says for the millionth time today. Which you happen to tell him that, only for him to repeat it, in a much more promising voice. You already know it’s BS. “Joong,” you say, walking to the side of him, “Can I at least just sit on your lap?”

You give your biggest puppy eyes, and you thank the gods it works. After a long sigh, he pushes his chair back and taps his thigh, signaling to sit. A quick giggle escapes you as you practically tackle him. He lets out a quiet “oof”, before making sure you’re situated. Your legs on either side of his thigh, you quickly realize that your core is sitting in the perfect position to get off on him. Looks like your plan would work out just fine.

You let him get back into work for a little while, trying not to make him suspicious of your motives. But after a while, you have to shuffle to get comfortable, and his jeans practically scrape against your clit. Thankfully, you chose a skirt for easy access. But once you’ve got a taste, you became insatiable. After checking to see if he’s paying attention, which of course he’s not, you start moving your hips.

The movement feels so good, especially wrapped up in his arms. It’s light, but good enough for the moment. You sigh, and push your head into his neck, taking the chance to enjoy yourself. But once you start doing it more and more, you look up and realize that he’s watching you. He apparently took his earbuds out already. His attention was solely on you. But you weren’t sure how this would pan out.

“You actually thought I didn’t know what you were doing? Acting like a fucking brat, practically throwing yourself at me just for a good fuck. You’re such a slut.” His words, his tone, his dark eyes, everything makes you want him even more. You’re about to “explain” yourself, but he interrupts you, pushing you off him. For a second you think he’s actually mad, that you took it too far during a time when he was already stressed.

Just for a split second. Because after that second passes, he stands up, and turns you around to his desk. Thankfully there’s a clean spot on the desk, though you know he wouldn’t slam you down on his equipment regardless. For the sake of you, but also his bank account. But he does slam you down on the desk, pulling your hair into his hand before yanking your head back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him next to your ear.

“You just couldn’t behave yourself, could you? You know what happens to brats, don’t you?” You did. You did know what happens to brats. And you want exactly that. But he already knows it. He lifts up your skirt, before his hand comes down to smack your ass. You jump slightly, surprised at the sensation. But then you wiggle your butt for more. “Of course you want more.” And of course he doesn’t give it to you.

Usually he stretches you out a little, but just by the large wet patch on your panties, he can tell you’re wet enough. The slight stretch always makes it better anyways. You hear the unbuckle of his belt, the clothes hit the floor. His cock lines up with your hole, him not even taking your underwear off. Then he just slams in. Your mouth gapes open at the sudden intrusion. You never get tired of the feeling.

His pace is brutal, hips smacking yours, making yours press into the wooden desk. You don’t mind though, too preoccupied with the fact that he’s touching your g-spot with every thrust. Somehow he just knows your body, like it came natural to him. “You just couldn’t wait, could you? Too much of a cock slut, the only thing on your mind is how much you wanna be fucked. So pathetic,” he chuckled, the same one he does in his songs.

Moans just spilling out of your mouth only spurred him to keep talking. There’s nothing that gets you more turned on that his voice and his dirtiest words. He always knew what to say to get you there. And you were already close. “Look at you, clenching on my dick. Even your cunt can’t get enough of me.” With every word you clench even harder. “Bet you could get off with just my voice.” And he’s correct.

His hand travels from your back, to your hip, down to your stomach, and further to your clit. Goosebumps follow his every movement. And then he does what he always does. He pushes you to the very edge. His middle finger lands on your bud, rubbing side to side, immediately sending you hurtling towards your orgasm. A long string of “Hongjoong” and “fuck” begin, before you finally collapse. Your legs shake and eyes flutter with pleasure.

Within seconds, he releases inside you, flooding your walls, milking every drop out of him. He shortly collapses on top of you, before flopping down in his chair. He drags you back into his lap, letting you curl up onto his chest. This is the best part of having intimacy with Hongjoong. He takes aftercare incredibly seriously. You just lie there for a while, letting the harsh breathing subside.

When everything goes silent, you finally come back to reality. His desk is a little messy, and you’re about to apologize when you spot a red light on his microphone. Then you realize… he was recording your moans. Your eyes move up to his face, to see his joker-like grin.

“Remember when you said it would be funny to include your moans in one of my songs?”

I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work

[cinamun]

Ok but deadass, I'm proud of Mercy and I'll tell you why:

In 2019, when I was the grown ass age of 26, my daddy told me with his whole chest women get attached to the men they lose their virginities to (this is something he repeated my entire life) and then when i told him i lost my virginity in a one night stand, never saw him again and didn't care, the nigga doubled down and said "well you must just be special". Knowing the shit I had to unpack before I could get to the point where I able to respond "No, you're just wrong.", I support a hoe phase. I ESPECIALLY support a hoe phase dedicated to learning to find your pleasure and then keep it stepping because boys get told their whole lives they can do that.

It's not always good for everyone, but if it's helping Mercy learn something about herself I am HERE. FOR. IT.

Oof, friend! Not only that, but why do people call it a hoe phase when its women? Why can't women just have the freedom to move about the cabin of dicks? Why can't Mercy just pull a special box of magnums from under the couch and take back shots from the delivery man whose name she barely knows? Why can't women ever be afforded the privilege of fucking for pleasure and not procreation?

*steps off soap box*

Men can be weird as hell like Riah told us, and they often think they know how we should feel or what we should attach to. They think they know so much they even make laws about what we can and can't do with our *gasp* bodies!! THE SHIT IS WILD!!!

Anyway, cheers to YOU, cheers to Mercy, cheers to Dira too LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO cheers to everybody out here gettin dick unapologetically.

[inmyhorrorsera]

S5E9 & S5E10 thoughts

Well, I liked it!

The biggest loser here is Episode 9 because all my thoughts are so occupied by the finale that I can't say much about the previous episode which wasn't even bad. So just three quick things:

Finally I get some good fucking food (The Guide content).

"I'm… going…to kill you… Guillermo" gave me CHILLS.

Guidja real.

Now, to Episode 10:

Didn't notice the previous episode how feral Nandor was filmed, his face all darkened except for a beam of light on his furious eyes, good and classic vampire shit!

Nadja Detective Policeman visiting Guillermo in that outfit😩

Wow, Guillermo treating Derek bad after all he did for him really make the point across that he's a shitty person.

There's something so 😙👌 about Nandor going back to Panera, always love a full circle moment.

I don't care about Patton Oswald as a comedian or person due some disgusting shit he pulled years ago, so sadly I couldn't enjoy his scenes with Nandor that much. I loved that after the whole conversation he still killed him tho. I read someone in the tags paralleling this scene to Guillermo and Meg in S3E2, and I fully agree with that interpretation.

Laszlo helping Guillermo and apologizing…😭 He loves him! I would love to see more of how Laszlo feels about his "frustrations" (his innability to help Guillermo, the impotency of seeing Colin grow up and not remember him). That's something that should be explored better next season imo.

Him trying to have a serious conversation but keep getting distracted by the porn is me trying to watch this show as a dumb comedy but getting distracted by the nandermo of it all.

All the vampires visiting him with dumb excuses was so cute. I wish I never see those creatures ever again tho.

Ahhhh Nandor calling Guillermo from his mother in law mom's house was some psycho shit. Also it remind me a bit of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Spike visits Buffy's mom just to taunt her. Imagine Nandor pulling this shit:

(Silvia immediately stakes him of course).

"My friend, Patton Oswalt, he passed away". The solemn way he says it as if he wasn't the culprit 😭.

The moment of Guillermo putting the stake on Nandor's neck was an explicit sex scene for me and for everyone with good taste.

On the opposite side, Nandor helping Guillermo with the red cape is SO SOFT, it's all about being equals this time.

The Djinn… oof… as someone who was begging for his appearance since the beginning of the season, this stunt left me cold… sorry but everything that starts with "it happened off screen" it's bad writing. It's giving "Daenerys kind of forgot…" level of bad.

Didn't like that suddenly Nandor is smarter than the others (specially if we come from an episode when Laszlo called him 'a fuckin idiot' for not getting the Guide reveal).

I already mentioned this in a post I made last night, but I'll repeat it verbatim here, because I stand by it:

I don't believe FOR A SECOND that Laszlo didn't try to feed Guillermo human blood 🤔 Remember when Nadja on s1 went on an entire mission to help Jenna to complete her transformation? (hey everybody, remember Jenna?) How Guillermo 'all my life I dreamed of being a vampire' did not know that piece of lore??

"Guillermo can't kill people" Umm whoever decided to go on this direction, I recommend them this show on FX called What we do in the shadows it's very good! (when consistent).

I…. don't trust that "Guillermo is not cut to be a vampire" stuff… sounds like retcon… BUT! I love the "Guillermo is not cut to be a vampire YET, specially if he isnt sired by Nandor" interpretation.

From the beginning I had this hunch that Guillermo's longing for a family and community (I'm not saying he dislikes his bio family, but obviously he grow up distant from them, probably for being queer and feeling like "an outsider") was a reason for being so desperate to become a vampire. Now that he has the family (bio AND chosen) and the community, it's his time to think if he STILL wants to be vampire or not (and he said at the fake ceremony that he still wants it 😌).

Lmao Guillermo's beard... that thing... didn't look like it was growing from Harvey's face.

🗣️HE 🗣️KEPT 🗣️THE 🗣️GLASSES!!!

More Derek! And with better make up than that ashy talcum powder nightmare from Episode 1!! WTF they got rid of another character of color again??!! Benedict Wong what are you doing here???!!! Yay??????

I really like that Topher is a "functional" zombie in comparison with his state in S2E1, it makes sense with the zombies we saw on the original movie.

Still weird that we end the episode and season here, with Derek happy ending?

HOT take but I like that it didn't end on a cliffhanger, considering that we don't know the state of the show post strikes yet AND after s4 I don't trust this people with cliffhangers ever again lol.

Now that the season is finished I came to realize Nadja's entire arc AGAIN was a big 'ol nothing, huh? The hex, her Antipaxos found family, the little stunt as a teacher, literal "throw at the wall and see what it sticks". I'm sorry but I'll repeat: WWDITS learn how to write women challenge.

Excited to see how Guillermo and Nandor's relationship will develop from now on, I know some people are frustrated but as someone who is used to slow burns being SLOW this is my shit. I joke a lot about the pairing but also I understand that this is the shit&farts show first, nandermo nation second (unlike some people that appears they only consume and rate media depending on how much kissy kissy is on the screen).

From 1 to 10, I'll give this season a 7. Not that good as my god tier seasons (S2 is a 9, S3 is a 10), but not so bad as S4.

What I want next season:

Guillermo NEEDS to be a Bad Bitch again: slaying vampires like the Van Helsing he is, being gay af, not being scared to sass out Nandor, etc.

Laszlo and Colin NEED to have a real talk.

Consistency.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEARN HOW TO WRITE FOR NADJA I'M ON MY KNEES AT THIS POINT!!!

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Legacy"

We learn the answer to the question of Ezra's parents' fate and things are endlessly sad.

This series of slow scale-pan/zoom in shots that start from a wide distance establishing shot and ends on a close-up of Ezra is really effective. Evokes a dreamlike quality even before we duck into Ezra's head. The silence and weird sounds add to the eerie effect.

This whole sequence is obviously retroactively sad. It almost feels like the Force is trying to connect Ezra with his parents one last time. The muted whispers recall the World Between Worlds, Mira and Ephraim's repeated reassurances to Ezra that they're right there, perhaps already dead, with him in the Force? The Force sound effects are bizarre and watery, and there are a couple unusually loud bass thomps that Ezra startles at--Footsteps? Heartbeats? Bodies hitting the floor?

It's a trippy sequence but played entirely seriously, even the lack of fanfare emphasizing how important this episode is.

There's our first instance of the "Twin Moons" cue here.

:(((((((

Kanan's line here about, "You've never wanted to talk about your parents." suggests that he and Hera did try to let Ezra know that Tseebo had told them something but that he didn't want to hear it at the time. Or that maybe they were waiting for him to bring it up and he never did.

This is a pretty shot. <3

See, this is why I don't agree with the argument that Hera and Kanan were wrong for not telling Ezra what little they knew. Because... what would it have even accomplished?

"Oh, we maybe know vaguely where your parents are." But they don't have any way to confirm where they are or if they're even still alive and even though they've been looking for probably a year now they've exhausted all resources and are not any closer to an answer. There is net zero information to be gained on Ezra's part, and if he'd known they were looking all it would have done was distract him and drive him to obsessively check in about it.

Which is not something a vulnerable Force Sensitive with attachment issues needs to have added to his plate to worry about.

Meanwhile with the Rebellion plot side of things, Konstantine is debriefing Fifth and Seventh.

Seventh looks meanly happy that Konstantine snarks at Fifth lol.

Side note: There is really pretty lighting in this scene.

Aw frick.

*weeps*

The mass escape happened the previous night. It happened the night Ezra had his vision.

His parents were already dead and he felt it unconsciously through the Force.

In hindsight that might be why he was able to accept it/guess at it so quickly when they were talking to Ryder.

Right so a lot of my commentary this episode is just going to be me being sad about Ezra's face.

"You have to open your mind to the truth as the Force presents it." Oof. Holocron-shadowing.

This sequence is so cool. A lovely music cue to accompany it too.

Ugh, the parallels to "Vision of Hope" and "Twin Suns", with Ezra leaping headfirst onto the scent of potential information, rushing in, so assured of what his vision means...

Sabine coming out to see what's up with Ezra, and apparently casually listening in on Imperial chatter concerning Lothal.

Also Ezra, you really don't need that helmet, you just want it 'cause it's a present from Sabine you basically use a security blanket lol.

Ezra's theme sounding very bright and lovely here.

Lol Sabine calling Zeb and Chopper delinquents.

Kanan and Sabine's worried looks at him. <33333

Ezra's agitation here is rightfully a little concerning. He's snapping at his friends, being impatient, short-tempered.

I like this cute little moment here though, Sabine gives him a reassuring nod.

Riiiiiiight before she realizes what the Stormtroopers clearing out of the area means lol.

This protocol being established in Rebels lent some extra dread to that moment in Rogue One when the Star Destroyer moved out from above Jedha's capital.

Ezra isn't focusing, his aim is all off. His theme pipes in here, strained and full of tense strings.

Lol Kanan's expression like, "Shit, did he do all that? That's my kid all right. "<333333

Oooooh the way Ezra's expression changes as soon as he hears Seventh.

He angy.

Yeah uh hon, I don't think charging two Inquisitors twice your size is gonna work. Good thing Kanan interrupts and blasts the door between them so he can give Ezra a moment to collect himself and calm back down.

"You're right. I never knew my parents." :(((( This is sad for two reasons, one, that Kanan is tacitly admitting he can't fully understand Ezra in this one aspect, and two, that he still does understand somewhat because he lost his master right in front of him (who was basically the closest thing he had to a parent) and his entire Order and people.

I think Ezra realizes that because he looks immediately contrite and apologizes.

:((((((

The music in this scene is great.

Aaaaaaaand the TIE fighters shot a Rebel transport down over a populated civilian city.

Friendly reminder that the Rebels did not do this in the finale.

Awww Chopper waving bye to mom.

Love Hera just straight up bashing the tractor beam generator with the Ghost when the torpedo plan fails.

Sabine checking to see if they're going to follow Kanan and Ezra. <3333

This whole conversation. <3333

Welp, the dumbass new post editor is making me brush up against an unexpected 30 photo limit, dunno how to turn it off, it's not on a lot of the previous recaps, might have to tweak this post a few times. In the meantime looks like I'm going to be limited in the caps I can post.

Stupid Tumblr.

Ezra's burned out old home. :(((((

Oh hey, random thought, but would you like me to make this episode even sadder? >:)

So the timeline is a bit loose with Rebels and frankly what they've officially set down makes zero sense. But we know the show starts 5BBY and that Ezra turns 15 in the mid-season episode "Empire Day".

Some fans decided that because "Legacy" is another mid-season episode that means its a year after "Empire Day".

AKA Ezra turned 16 yesterday, the same day his parents died.

After all, what's a better distraction for a massive jailbreak than a mandated galactic holiday, when the Stormtroopers are busy partying? Or so the logic goes.

~You're welcome.~

KITTY! :D

"Aaaand we're chasing Loth-cats now." Kanan sounds so tired lol.

Friiiiiiiick Ezra's hopeful little face when Ryder says he knows his parents. :((((((

Clancy Brown trying to break out of his typecast voicing someone who's NOT a villain for a change.

Bbbbbyyyyyyyyy. :(((((((((

"Twin Moons" coming in again, all in sad somber strings.

Not remembering exactly which of the writers/producers said it, but pretty sure behind-the-scenes Word of God confirmed that Ephraim and Mira realized it was only a matter of time before the Empire would connect the dots from Ezra to them because of his message, and that's why they A) led the jailbreak in the first place, and B) let themselves be killed in the escape when they got separated, rather than be used as blackmail against their son.

You know, in case the episode wasn't already sad enough. :)

Man, Ezra's face, I can't.

*sobs*

Right, I know I can't add many more caps but this hug needed to be capped. Look, even Chopper is patting Ezra's knee kjhkjafhkas.

"Twin Moons" playing out in somber female vocals now and I'm SO mad that Tumblr decided to finally randomly change/update my post editor I NEED TO CAP EVERY SINGLE FRAME.

From Ezra's sad curled up position, the despondency in his eyes, the breeze moving through the Lothal grass in gentle rivulets, how the light shifts as Ezra enters his vision, the glorious shimmer of Capital City in a world without the Empire, that shot of Ephraim's hand joining Ezra's on the railing...

This is such a beautiful sequence.

So so mad about the photo limit.

Kanan comforting Ezra by talking about how the Jedi view death, as merely energy changing forms, and that Ezra's parents are alive inside him.

I don't think it's a coincidence that "They will be. Always." recalls "The Force will be with you, always."

Man. :((((((

So this is a beautiful episode, very plot heavy, ends the mini Garel portion of the season and drives the Rebels even further afield from Lothal, which I suppose makes it appropriate that we're allowed to visit it one last time this season.

The confirmation of the deaths of his parents would serve to unbalance Ezra again, after the serenity he'd found at the end of "Brothers of the Broken Horn", and the grief will be lingering through the whole rest of the season, arguably the rest of the show.

Ezra takes it... so remarkably well though, which speaks to his character maturity. The support of the others, especially Kanan--who understands full well what it's like to lose someone and be alone in your grief--helps too. Kanan's relationship with Ezra, always a highlight of the show, shines through here in how understanding and present he is for Ezra.

The animation and music are phenomenal this episode, perfectly serving the story and of course looking gorgeous to boot.

Plus there are lots of pretty shots of Ezra looking sad so...

Yeah I love this episode.

[f1uckinghell]

curtain call - a Virtues Verse oneshot

here is a Riley-centric oneshot I wrote as a gift for the lovely @thatsapodium <3

—🎶—

Riley couldn’t spot his family in the crowd, but just knowing they were there filled his heart with an excited, deep warmth. Dad, beaming in the suit he had bought just for this, Mom in the same navy dress that was always brought out for festive occasions. Grandma Sophie, Grandma Grace and Grandpa Joe, excitedly taking photos. His siblings and packlings, dressed up like he rarely ever saw them. Isabel and Leah with little Clara, who was looking adorable in her dress. Carlos and Lando were there, too, of course, and Papa, and Pierre. And Maman, whose eyes were shiny and whose smile was fierce and proud when he cupped Riley’s cheeks in his hands and told him, „I knew you would make it one day.“

„Three more minutes,“ Benoit, the conductor of the orchestra, said behind him, startling Riley away from the curtain.

„Okay.“ Riley exhaled slowly and smoothed down his dress.

Ben watched him with a thoughtful smile. „You will be amazing.“

„What are you doing up here?“ Riley asked quickly, trying to will himself out of blushing.

„I wanted to come see you,“ Ben replied, fixing his cufflinks, „For good luck.“

Now, Riley was definitely blushing. „Oh. Thank you.“ He didn’t know why, but he added, „My whole family is here today.“

Ben gave him a sympathetic grin. „Ah. Nervous?“

„A little bit,“ Riley admitted, shifting on his feet. The black dress he was wearing had a high neckline and felt like a hug. „Aren’t you?“

Ben gave a very french shrug. „Yes,“ he said, „Everytime.“

That was oddly comforting, because Benoit was a literal musical genius, one of the youngest conductors ever to work with this particular orchestra. He was a beta from France, in his early thirties, supremely talented and very handsome with thick dark hair, blue eyes and glasses.

Riley and him had been flirting for the past few months.

A low gong sound counted down the last few moments before the start of the concert.

„I mean it, Riley,“ Benoit said quickly, taking an urgent step forward, reaching for Riley’s hands. Ben’s hands were warm and strong around Riley’s when he squeezed them. „You are amazing. You will do amazing.“

Riley let out a breathless „Thank you!“ while his entire body felt like it was spinning.

Ben let go of his hands and gave Riley one last lopsided smile. „Bonne chance!“

„Bonne chance!“ Riley echoed, and then, quickly before he could change his mind, „Wait!“

He took two steps forward and kissed Ben on the cheek. „For good luck.“

Ben let out an adorable, surprised noise, half-stopping in his tracks, but Riley ushered him away, giggling. „You have to go! Quick!“

„I have to go!“ Ben repeated, a big, happy smile spreading on his face, „Yes. I have to- I’ll see you later!“

„Yes!“ Riley watched as Ben almost tripped over his own feet when he hurried towards the stage entrance. His heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, and he felt like he could do anything right now.

„Ladies, Gentlemen and esteemed others,“ the voice of the concert hall’s director sounded through the thick curtains as the crowd quieted down, „Welcome to Young Talents night at the Royal Concert Hall.“

Riley took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The concert went perfectly.

Riley had to blink away tears in his eyes when the crowd cheered and clapped for them. Nothing could ever rival this feeling.

Well, maybe something could: the sight of his family in the foyer, Dad carrying a massive bouquet of flowers.

Jasper was the first to spot him. „Riley!“ he exclaimed, and ran at him, throwing his arms around him. He had grown a lot, and catching him forced a little „oof“ out of Riley. Nevertheless, he hugged his little brother tightly, and Jasper squeezed him back, going on and on.

„You sang so beautifully and you look so pretty and Dad cried but he pretended he didn’t-“

This meant so much more than any compliment from any professional he had received while making his way through the crowd.

His family descended upon him with hugs and kisses and compliments. Dad hugged him for a long time. Riley enjoyed being covered in Dad’s comforting, familiar scent. When they let go, there were proud tears in Dad’s eyes again that he wiped away with the back of his work-worn hand. „I’m so fucking proud of you.“

„Dad,“ Isabel scolded jokingly, covering Clara’s ears.

„Some occasions warrant foul language,“ Leah said, and threw her arms around Riley, pulling him into the next hug.

Several minutes passed until everyone had hugged him and told him how proud they were of him.

„Um, Riley, I think someone is here to see you,“ Luna said behind him when Riley was just in the process of getting squeezed by Grandma Sophie. When he turned, he saw Benoit standing there on the edge of his family circle, looking politely handsome with a glint in his eye.

„I just came to congratulate you briefly on your outstanding performance,“ he said.

Riley felt his already wide smile widen. He could tell his entire family was curiously watching them now.

„Thank you,“ he said as gracefully as he could; he knew Ben could tell he wanted to say much more. Do much more. „Congratulations on yours as well.“

So formal. A cheeky little grin tugged on the corner of Ben’s mouth. „Thank you so much.“

There was a slight pause, then Riley remembered to introduce Ben. He gestured behind himself awkwardly, „This is my… my whole family. …this is Benoit, the conductor.“ When he half-turned, he saw Maman’s knowing grin.

Grandpa Joe leaned over from behind Riley, holding out his hand to shake Ben’s. „Incredible work, young man.“

„Thank you so much,“ Ben replied, shaking Grandpa’s hand. „Lovely to meet Riley’s family.“

„You have cool glasses,“ Jasper said from where he was wrapped around Mom.

„Thanks!“ Ben grinned, „So do you.“

Jasper looked very satisfied with the compliment. „We’re going to have sushi now, because that’s Riley’s favorite.“

„Nice,“ Ben grinned, „That’s good to know.“ He gave Jasper a little wink. „Hope you enjoy your dinner.“

Jasper beamed up at him.

Riley felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

„I’ll see you saturday?“

„Yes,“ Ben said, turning his attention back to him with a warm smile. „See you saturday.“

„Okay,“ Riley said quietly, trying not to completely lose it over Ben in front of his family.

„Enjoy your sushi,“ Ben told him, giving a formal, modest little bow before disappearing into the crowd.

It took his siblings exactly two seconds after Ben was gone to start making kissy noises.

Some things never changed.

[casketscratch]

Woops long post, snip snip. Just system update things.

Been riding this cycle of, like. General stability and a few good days → so dissociated and foggy I can't remember things for more than an hour, be deeply depressed and dysregulated, feel someone spin through an entire existential crisis for a few days → have some vivid system-related dream one night that will be related to walls being knocked down/portals opening/insert metaphor for removing barriers here → wake up feeling present, stable, energized, with access to whatever memories a part had before. So I guess integrated. Trying to take advantage of the good days, and repeat.

Which is... good, but deeply exhausting. Last night was this saga of a dream that kept changing points of view between two different alters learning how to open portals to one another's room to save each other from different disasters.

Normally when I dream about having any sort of magic powers, it's this deeply frustrating sense of knowing I SHOULD be able to do something and yet not being able to. Just trapped and blocked and frustrated and scared I can't ever get out of somewhere.

And now it's... Being actively surprised even in my dreams that something is working. It's the third or fourth time it's happened since we got somewhere safe.

It's so refreshing to come out of that fog but goddamn I wish I knew what was going on rather than just feeling along for the ride as a spectator.

But our financial situation has also meant cutting back on therapy so we're trying to manage seeing our therapist every 2 weeks now and oof. Oof oof oof. This is a lot to have in my head with no one to bounce the specifics off of sometimes, even if I'm confident we can manage it. The change alone keeps freaking some part of me out because now the schedule is disrupted, too.

[amazing-spiderling]

😅😈 ⛔

😅 What’s a story or scene you’ve created that you’re a smidge embarrassed exists?

All of the Sailor Moon OC fic I wrote in high school, mostly. I mean, everyone in the 90's did that so at least I know I'm in good company- but yeah. Just, the worst kind of self insert nonsense full of stupid inside jokes meant for an audience of only my high school friends. It was a whole thing. There also exists (not on Ao3) some REALLY schmoopy X-Men fanfic I wrote in high school where I thought I was getting really emotional (especially for a Gen fic) but now just makes me go "oof you really thought you had something there" but IDK, I think I should just appreciate my younger self's ability to be so unabashedly earnest about that kind of thing.

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Haha, yeah. (SPOILERS FOR MY SPIDEYPOOL FIC "THE MAN IN THE MASK")

I very purposely crafted the opening of the last chapter to imply that one of the characters had died, using words like "gone" instead of "left" etc. The story leading up to that indicated that there was a very real threat of this character dying, a lot of the drama hinged on it- and the other character ends up left on their own for a long period of time. The story sort of bookends itself with the second character being picked up and carted off by the same people who grabbed him at the opening, so it seems like a cycle might be repeating, but it turns out things are okay (or getting there) and the two are reunited after what was just a rocky transition period.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

I don't know if I'd ever say *anything* was entirely scrapped, if only because whenever I start a story I usually have an ending in mind. Even if I lose motivation- the ending is in my brain somewhere, I didn't quit the story because I didn't know where to go with it, I just ran out of steam- so if I got some steam back, I might just end up finishing it one day. Case in point, I started an MGS story years and YEARS ago. It withered away in a google doc all but forgotten until I got an opportunity to write for a zine this year. The idea was still in the back of my brain, and lo and behold, I had several hundred words waiting for me to uncover and repurpose, so I ended up finishing the story after all.

I do have several google docs of general outlines (usually lifted from late night discord convos with friends) that I threw down in case I ever wanted to write a fic about them. There's a lot of trashy Spideypool there that probably isn't going to see the light of day, so I guess those.

[phoebehalliwell]

I mean, if you want gossip, welcome to my tale of questionable decisions! Let me set the scene for you. The relevant players are me, my female friend, and a guy who we've both been befriending. (The setting, mostly irrelevant but must be added to emphasize the Questionable Decisions of this tale is a church group. As in we're all in the same church group. What the fuck at me) Anyways, friend has gotten some flirty signals from guy and is interested but not willing to do anything unless he's explicitly into her.

Meanwhile, I end up becoming closer friends with this guy bc we went to an arcade a weekend night, accidentally had too much, and then had a full on breakdown on how my ex bf almost definitely sexually assaulted me. The guy (nice guy not ex bf, he has no more relevance to this story besides my ~trauma~) ends up hanging out with me a few more days, in part bc I am Not Handling this well. (ha ha, i'm repressing it atm again, this seems like a better idea!) We end up being better friends tho, and I find out that he is into my friend which great!

Issue is that my hormones are fucking stupid as hell and I. haven't even kissed anyone since said ex bf and guy friend is nice to me and I am reasonably sure won't be weird about it. So basically: we ended up making out on my couch. for a while. Additional context: I outright told him beforehand that I didn't want a relationship with him and this would be a one-time thing that I would almost definitely never bring up again. Which: not wrong. He's a great friend and I like hanging out with him but we're fundamentally incompatible and I'm just not into him that way. (Seriously, the entire thought process on my end is that he has proven multiple times that he won't hurt me, will stop if I ask, and is chill enough that it won't need to become a thing.)

He had to leave after a while, because y'know time and I basically talked him into asking out my friend. So please, imagine this scenario. Me and him, having just spent two hours making out on my couch with the full understanding this was a one-time thing, now standing on my porch at midnight as I try to talk him into asking her out while he expresses doubt that she's into him. I've done it tho and he's gonna ask her out tomorrow. This is the current situation as of fifteen minutes ago.

My expectation is frankly that while we may talk about it in the future, bc he is currently only person alive who knows about my trauma, it will never happen again. (Like I said: I'm really not into him like that.) Admittedly, not totally sure on what'll happen with him and her but a legit possibility that they end up going out (and he's already promised me to not tell anyone about it, which he won't bc of who he is as a person) and it going well. Honestly, idk if I really need advice bc I do legitimately think that this will work out fine for everyone but may I get an f in the chat for what the fuck was I thinking. Any advice about the situation will be gladly accepted tho! (Also anything about dealing with said trauma bc like I said. I am. not handling it v well oof.)

The most ironic thing about fucking all this is that I am normally the most drama-free, chill person ever and never get into trouble and then I did this. To repeat: what the fuck at me!

legendary behavior on your part honestly like. like?? idk i'm with you i think this could turn out fine maybe. like obvs there are good odds it doesn't but like. ❤️❤️❤️❤️. like aint nobody gotta know like first off i totally believe in like the principle of making out with your friends. granted i rarely do it for like two hours with the homies but like making out for two hours with someone that you're into is also like not that weird of a thing either imo like making out with someone at the club!! you guys are both just there it's both just vibes like!! idk it's normal!!! i feel sooo hashtag phoebecoded rn i do feel like this is incredibly dumb advice but im also hashtag team you. i think this is gna be fine. but also yeah like really don't let her know. like. that's just business between y'alls just silly haha business and it's like if you get it you get it but if you don't it's really confusing and hurtful bc it's harder to get it if you already like the guy you get what i'm saying. but yeah. hope things work out for your friend and homeboy. homeboy sounds chill. also they're both so relatable for refusing to do anything until they know for sure it's reciprocated the amount of the times i have had to hold my homies at gunpoint (and vice versa!) to ask out the guy who clearly likes them... well it's a modern (?? or not idk i'm not old) rite of passage. wishing u all luck. keep me posted im nosy owo.

[theoathkeeper]

With Full Hearts, We Go Onward To Our Destination!!

[harcove]

you uh. wouldn't mind an angst request would you haha because I have had this one scenario stuck in my head where leon (probably resi 6 leon) has been drinking a lot more and has been neglecting his s/o and they finally call him out on his shit

anyway ooga booga they fight and decide it's best they give leon his space and take a break and maybe he finds them at a bar he goes to to get wasted to already find them drunk off their ass

Angst is absolutely one of my most favourite things to write and to read like damn I do be out here making myself CRY. So I definitely don't mind angst like hell yeah!

I was gonna end this was a happier note- but uh, I really love angst so I left it semi-open ended but also pretty sad I think. Also not really dialogue-heavy, more like... I write too much detail-heavy :,) Also this isn't edited, I spent days on this cause I was overthinking it and felt it was just not good so oof I'm sorry!

Length: 2k

Request: in the ask

Warnings: angst, drinking, lowkey it's alcoholism on Leon's part, being drunk

Leon x Reader - "I know."

How long had it been since you had held your boyfriend's hand? Since the two of you had really sat together and done something together, fully, completely, involved, and focused on one another. You didn't even remember, which was agonizing to think about.

You had been through so much with Leon. And you knew where his deepest thought lay, but you could never truly know. And it didn't help that over the years the two of you had together, he had started to become more distant. And instead of finding his comfort in your arms, he found it in some glass bottle.

At first, you didn't really protest much, you didn't say much about it. A drink every once in a while couldn't hurt. Yet, it wasn't every once in a while. It was more often than you'd have liked. And he was using it to forget. To focus on anything else but his life and his memories. Your soft words trying to talk to him didn't do much to stop him or dissuade him. He brushed you off more often than not. It tore you up from the inside out that you couldn't help him, that at some point a bottle was his chosen form of comfort over you.

The guilt mixed with sadness, and then with anger. And in the end, those feelings came together and created an explosion between the two of you one night.

Your throat was hoarse as you swallowed as much air as you could. You couldn't exactly remember what the argument stemmed from but you knew it had to be related to him drinking.

"Will you just listen to me?!" You shouted, the words coming out uneven as your throat begged you to stop, "put that shit down Leon, and look at me!"

The man sitting at the aisle in your kitchen put the flask he had down in front of him, but still had his hands on it. He turned his head to look at you, barely even moving at all, and his eyes were looking at you like he was unimpressed or annoyed.

"I'm listening."

You wanted to pull on your hair and scream because he wasn't. He wasn't listening, and he hadn't been, at least not for a while.

"No you aren't, you are not listening to a word I say, you never do!"

He scoffed, turning back to his drink and taking another sip.

"Where am I going on Friday?"

"What?" He looked at you incredulously, completely lost as your voice went from yelling at him to speaking relatively peacefully, but there was no peace in your voice.

"I said, where am I going on Friday, Leon," you repeated with clenched fists, "if you listen to me if you even bother to pay attention to me, you would know the answer. So where am I going on Friday?"

The silence was your answer, as you expected it to be, you just hadn't expected it to be so painful.

"I'm going to visit my family in the town over," your voice was low and tired, and you wanted to cry but you couldn't even find it in you to do that, "I told you that a thousand times Leon I..."

Biting your lip hard, you felt yourself break skin, and the metallic taste of blood invaded your taste buds. You were so angry at him moments before, angry enough you had been yelling. But suddenly you weren't angry anymore. You were just so sad; sad for yourself and sad for him. He wasn't going to listen to you, not right now, that much was clear.

"I've been busy Y/N-" whatever he said was wasted on deaf ears as you drowned them out unintentionally, your eyes trained on the flask he nursed.

For once, you knew you had to let it be. You had to give him space, and give yourself space.

"I'm sleeping in the guest room," you offered lamely after the long silence between the two of you after he had finished whatever he had said. Leon looked up at you, with a look of surprise, and confusion, "we both need space. From each other. I just... Don't stay up drinking all night."

"Y/N-" his words once again fell upon deaf ears, and his fingers just missed your arm as you turned and went upstairs to the room usually used by people like Claire, or Chris, sometimes Sherry.

When morning came, you had gotten up later than usual, Leon was already gone as he usually was early in the morning with his job and everything. Your heart felt heavier as you walked into the empty kitchen and noted the vodka bottle you two had been given as a gift was half empty. Something in you asked if it was all worth it; did it really do so much that he drank more than he should've? Did it take away the feelings of hopelessness, like the one you were currently stuck in?

Those were the thoughts that followed you the entire day as you went about your routine. They followed you all the way to the spare bedroom of one of your old friend's homes as you decided you and Leon needed to take a break. If you didn't do that, you feared you would only lose him completely. Or lose yourself. It was exhausting.

But what was even more exhausting was not seeing him. You worried for him, and even if you sometimes felt like he didn't, he worried for you.

It would take about a week before something would crack, before the storm that had been brewing between you two, the one that laid dormant after you walked out to take from your relationship, would begin to thunder again, but in a much different way.

"We're here to have fun," your friend who had been letting you stay over said as she pushed a shot of... something into your hands, leaning against the bar from your side while you said on one of the barstools, "and loosen up. You specifically."

You rolled your eyes; this wasn't in your plan for the day, going to a bar. But it was more than you had done in the past week now. Your routine consisted of going to work and heading back to your friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

You wanted Leon. But you couldn't have him right now. You were still upset, and you didn't even know if he wanted you right now. Everything was a mess.

Things seemed to blur together over the course of the night in the bar, your friend insisting on you trying each new drink she got, some not new too. You had had one drink that you ordered of your own volition, and it had been a regular bottle of beer. But the shots your friend got for you two, and the sips of the drinks your friend ordered, culminated into more than you realized and you could say you were a bit more than just tipsy.

For some reason though, your friend seemed to be chugging along much better than you, you must've been a lightweight.

You hadn't even seen your friend in a while, but you also were so out of it that you couldn't exactly comprehend time properly at that current moment in time.

A hand on your arm and a familiar voice seemed to sober you a bit as your eyes met familiar blue, but they were clouded over with pain, with worry. Confusion too, and a bit of shock. Your fingers twitched, aching to touch his arm. His face. To smooth the furrow that seemed to be etching itself into his brow, threatening to become a new and permanent feature.

But the sober feeling you experienced also stopped you from doing any of the above. Rather, your body stiffened a bit and you pulled away from his touch, only barely missing the look of hurt that glided over his features as you did so.

"L-Leon?" the alcohol in your system made it sound more like you were questioning if he was real rather than saying his name, "What are you-"

The question you were going to ask didn't even need to be finished. It didn't even need an answer from him, because even if you were drunk, you knew Leon. And you knew why he was there.

"Oh," you couldn't help but scoff, "you want my drink? It'll start you off-"

Leon wasn't going to pretend that he hadn't come to the bar to drink away his sorrows; to forget all the pain he held onto and the nightmares he couldn't escape, and now the pain of not having you around. But when he walked in and saw you? Something in him stopped. Something in him twisted and he felt nauseous and for once it wasn't because of a hangover, but it was because of you.

You looked so miserable. Not that you realized you were wearing your heart on your sleeve at the bar, with the dejected look on your face and the limp hand holding onto a beverage you clearly didn't enjoy. Whilst at the same time, you looked empty.

Is that what you saw? Is that what he looked like to you when he was drinking? When he was at home or at a bar, focusing on anything but reality?

Leon didn't want a drink anymore, he wanted to get you out of a place that didn't suit you whatsoever. He wanted to take you home, he didn't want you to be him.

"You didn't come here alone, did you?" He cut off whatever you were trying to say as he looked into your eyes sternly.

"What? N-no I'm not stupid... I came here with a friend."

It didn't take long for Leon to figure out the friend because he spotted her coming near the bar, and recognized her.

"Hey, I'm taking Y/N home," Leon tried to not sound aggressive when he spoke, but it may have only made him sound more upset.

"Leon? Oh, ya, of course. Are you two...?"

"We'll be fine," Leon replied as he helped you stand up, "thanks for being with them."

He hadn't just meant in the bar but in the past week. It was left unsaid, but it was laid bare.

As much as you wanted to pull away from the man who gently wrapped one of his strong arms around your waist, and used the other to hold your arm behind his neck, you couldn't. You didn't have the strength to, and you missed him.

Leon was glad he had taken the car and not his motorcycle. There was no way in hell he would've been able to keep you on a motorcycle all the way back to your home that you shared, or well, you hadn't for the past week. But that wasn't the point.

"You're so mean Leon..." you mumbled as he helped you get into the passenger seat of the car. He all but carried you into it like a child and leaned across you to put your seat belt on. You leaned your face into his neck as he did so, breathing deeply.

"I just... Want you to be happy," you continued sloppily, "but you won't... Let me in..."

Leon's breathing stopped for a moment as he stilled, his hand still on the seatbelt he had just finished putting you in. He quickly pulled himself together and pulled back, adjusting the belt on your body so it wasn't digging into your lazy form, but it was still doing its job.

"I know."

There was so much more he could say, but he couldn't.  He wasn't sure if he ever could.

He settled himself into the driver's seat and got ready to start the car up.

"I still love you though..." your words were slurred as you rested your head on the car window, feeling your eyes grow heavier.

"I..." Leon's hand was turning white at the knuckles from how hard he was holding the steering wheel. He didn't deserve you. And you didn't deserve this.

"I know..."

[zuluc]

anonymous requested: 👉👈 Diluc cuddles after reader has had a long, rough day?

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: a tiny bit suggestive

notes: i like how most of the requests i have are for diluc but i am not complaining because that means there will be more diluc content to circulate; also diluc as a cuddler please i wANT

for most of the requests you’re like the traveller but without a ration

The aching in your muscles calls out to you as you walk through the paths of Springvale, desperate for the moment your head could hit the pillows. You still had to walk all the way to Mondstadt for your place of rest and you had no horse or any other means for transportation besides your own two feet. The townspeople who were still awake give you looks of sympathy when they see you pass by them with Draff offering to provide you with a place for a night and some food. You politely decline and go on your way, your head going through the events of the day to keep you awake.

You are immensely tired there is no denying that. There were too many camps in such a small area and there were barely enough knights to assist you. A few hilichurls were able to get a good hit on you due to your fatigue building up and the woodshield mitachurls were having a field day. You were bruised and tired and today was just not your day.

The knights that were with you wanted to bring you back to the town to get patched up but you were already gone once the last of the structures was destroyed. In actuality, you didn’t want to burden them and there was still one commision you needed to get done without them knowing.You got to complete it, however, with a few more injuries added to the plate.

The sun is near setting and the darkening skies did nothing to help you in your predicament. You shuffle to the underside of a small cliff and stare off into the distance of Mondstadt, calculating the shortest path to take that wouldn’t be full of congregating slimes. You sigh with a shiver from the breeze that brushes against your face. Your eyes move to the ground to make sure you won’t trip on any stray rocks or sticks because at this point anything could knock you over. 

With your eyes trained downward you are unaware of someone in front of you and an “oof” comes out from you when you faceplant into their chest. Stepping back, you open your mouth to apologize and they hold onto your arms.

“You must be kidding me,” they say and you’re suddenly perked up at the voice. Dliuc has an unamused look on his face and there was no questioning that the knights had told him what you’ve been up to. “Are you overworking yourself again?” You don’t meet his eyes as a sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.

Diluc crosses his arms at the sight of knights coming towards him. Was there something their incompetence couldn’t solve? He didn’t know nor did he want to.

“Master Diluc!’ One of them calls out to him.

“What is it?” His voice holds its usually cold tone. 

“The Honorary Knight is overworking themselves again. They declined to come back with us for treatment for their injuries and--”

“Did you say injuries?” The knight nods. Diluc knew you were capable of fighting and taking care of yourself out there but there were the days in which you took on too many missions at once. These knights were truly useless if they didn’t at least try to convince you. He grows upset. “Where did you last see them?”

“Ah, well... they disappeared after one of the camps was cleared out but one of those passing by the fields saw them heading towards Springvale.” Diluc doesn’t say anything else to the knight as he leaves to get you.

“Uh, define ‘overworking’...” that’s when you see him roll his eyes but there’s no warning when he tugs you towards the horse you just noticed behind him. “Wait, Diluc!” You are helped onto it and he climbs up behind you, arms coming around your middle to hold the reins. 

“You never listen do you.” His voice is stern but you can hear the concern underlying in it and how his arms tighten ever so slightly around you. His body warmth is clear and present against your back and you can’t help but close your eyes with the feeling of sleep oh so welcoming. Your eyes close and Diluc notices, making sure to keep you in steady so you don’t shift off and fall as you move towards Dawn Winery. 

You are mostly asleep by the time you both arrive and you can hear and feel the trotting stop. You feel yourself being carried off of the horse and away from the cold air through the winery’s doors. There were gasps from inside and Diluc’s smooth voice directing them to draw you a bath, his voice trailing off as you come in and out of sleep. 

By the time you opened your eyes again you found yourself in a warm bath. You look down and your face flushes to see that you had been stripped of your clothes, vaguely aware of who it was that did so. 

“You’re getting very careless,” Diluc says from beside you. You are startled, unaware that he was next to you this entire time while you stared into the water. “Luckily enough you just had bruises and no bleeding.” You sink further into the water because you believe he’s mad at you. You had worried him a lot whenever you would take on missions after missions without rest. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice is somewhat muffled with your lips level with the water. You gaze lifts to his face and you do a double-take. He must have cleaned up before you awoke since his hair is loose across his back and shoulders and the top of his shirt is unbuttoned. He smells clean and warm, a scent you almost always fall asleep to when he is beside you.

Diluc gives you a hard look then his eyes soften when they see the guilt in your own. He reaches out to you, flicking your forehead lightly. His hand moves to the back of your head to tilt it up to face him. You hum when he kisses you, the type of kiss that leaves your lips tingling from the warmth. 

After you’ve cleaned up and dried, Diluc dresses you in one of his larger shirts and lays you gently on his bed as he was carrying you again. Your bruises feel less prominent and your heart pangs at the amount of care he shows you. You snuggle underneath the covers and peek out the top at his form as he moves around the room. The fireplace lights his face with an almost heavenly glow and your cheeks grow warm with the view of him looking that good in front of you. Sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned: he would be the death of you.

He smirks when he feels your gaze. “Staring is rude, love.” You huff and bury in the covers again. The cold sheets cool your face and you feel him shift into bed beside you, lifting the covers off your face so he can see you. He has a soft smile as he caresses your cheek. You lean into his touch and place an arm around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, guilt evident in your features, “I made you worry.” He’s mindful of your injuries while pulling you to his chest. 

“Next time, be more careful. You work hard but you don’t have to do it to this extent. Yes I’m worried, I won’t lie about that, but make sure you are taking care of yourself.” You nod against him and feel the softest of forehead kisses. He trails it down your face, stopping at your lips then moving to your neck. They’re light and fleeting but numerous. He shifts and you raise an eyebrow at his movement when he moves further down. He places kisses on your exposed collarbone, nipping softly in some areas. 

“D-Diluc? What are you doing?”His hands land on your hips and your hands are clutching tightly at his shoulders. His arms come around you as he buries his face in your chest. He looks up in confusion before realization hits him and he chuckles at the implication. 

“Did you want me to keep going?” Diluc has a mischevious look in his eyes, “I can make the rest of your pain go away...” Your heart races and you can’t look him in the eye, embarassed at his words. He chuckles again at your misery and decides to stop with his teasing. He knows you’re tired and today’s work took quite a toll on your physical state. You hug his head to you and put your hands in his hair. It’s as soft as always and he sighs in content when you run your fingers through it. 

“When did you get so bold?” You mutter, sleep slowly seeping into you despite how fast your heart had been beating moments ago.

“Only for you, my love.” He kisses your neck one more time, “Only for you.”

[candid-confetti]

Batfam x Batmom!Reader - Bruce Wayne Dies Imagine

Warnings: None. Angst I think? Bruce Wayne dying. Nothing really, if there is something I apologize and if you can please let me know and I’ll add it to the warnings.

Word count: 1727

This is a self indulgent fic that I made up in my head and decided to share cause why not?? (I make way too many AU’s in my head) Lol I’m in pain and I made the outcome, someone recc me more Bruce Wayne and Batfam angst pls. I live for this shit. You may point out my mistakes just please be nice about it. (This is an unedited fic so its bound to have mistakes.) Oof I repeated the same words like at least 5 times yikes and I want to be an English Major?! Lol whos idea was that?!

EDIT/IMPORTANT NOTE: Ok I somehow left out THREE ENTIRE SECTIONS of the story. Because I originally wrote it in tumblr then it got deleted cause I accidentally posted it before it was ready. Then deleted the post then realized I couldn’t get back my deleted post...🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyway— I updated the word count and added the three missing sections. They start with an asterisk. *

Breathe in. Out. Again. You focus on your breaths trying to calm the racing of your heart and the dread in your gut. Breathe just breathe...

Someone— Dick squeezes your hand. You feel some of the dread ebb away with his warmth. You’re not alone. You open your eyes and your kids sorrowful gazes are on you that you know is only a reflection of your own.

“You don’t have to do this Mom,” Tim says gently. But he knows you can’t walk away. He knows you must. Having done the calculations in his head, having monitored the several emails to Wayne Enterprises, and to you, all the calls, emails, messages. The condolences that weren’t heartfelt as they tried to get a reply to get anything. Some sort of grip on a story. They only increased by the day, and they were sure to get worse.

He ended up having to cut the line as a reporter had called, and in the midst of your grief and anger, you answered. Screaming at them and their audacity to call and ask for an interview when it hadn’t even been three days. A day was not enough. Three days was not enough. A week would never be enough. A month. A year. Five. Ten. It would never be enough. You don’t know what you said exactly. It was all a blur of tears, anger, grief, numbness. The gaping hole in your chest having taken over. You don’t remember Jason and Dick running up the stairs at your broken screams, or Damian grabbing the phone from your hands, though the line had already ended, or Cass grunting as you collapsed to the floor, in an attempt to catch you.

*It would only get worse. Evident by the number of legal cases Afred had been filing for slander and breach of privacy on the Wayne family- as articles had piled up from photos of the scene. The scene that you still couldn’t look at. Hear about. You weren’t ready yet. But they didn’t care. The press had started to spin their own twisted fairytale before you could even say a word. Hence why you were now here.

You look up to Alfred in the mirror, making eye contact giving him a small nod. He gets out of the car. You allow another breath of air to fill your lungs and as you exhale the door opens. You step out, Dicks hand still comfortingly in yours. The kids following closely behind you. Heels clicking against the steps you stop, confronted by the sign of the Hotel that Bruce first brought you to for your first gala as an official couple. With its neon lights and the mockingly optimistic sun beaming on your face, your mind flashes back to a memory that had bubbled to the surface. A murmur, a laugh, a twirl. The first gala you attended together as an official couple, and the night Bruce announced his love for you to the public. Ironic how you were now here to both confirm and announce his death.

You were so nervous, you were cool and collected in the car, the only sign of nerves was your foot anxiously tapping as Bruce rubbed his thumb over your knee soothingly. You arrived late. Fashionably late as you called it, for ahem *reasons.* His hand in yours, you exited the car, making it to the steps stopping at the sign that sent reflective sparkles of your dress onto the steps. You turn to him, looking up at his tall frame, “I’m a terrible dancer,” you confess abruptly. He doesn’t show any sign of surprise just raises a groomed eyebrow at you. Your foot begins to tap again, and he leans in towards your ear murmuring with a heated breath, “Well you certainly know how to tango, my dear.” You blink in surprise, heat flooding your cheeks, your previous activities before the ride here flooding your mind, you dismiss those thoughts with a whack to his arm shaking your head with a laugh. He gives you that smile the one that you swear makes his eyes glow brighter than moonlight, grasping your hand and giving you a quick twirl. Your nerves had been replaced with pure glee as you spun...

You were spinning, you were going to hurl. You wanted to hurl. Letting go of Dick’s hand to grip the railing, the other gripping your stomach. You had refused to eat before you came, having had a muffin for breakfast, the dread filling your stomach. Tim offers you a bottle of water, likely from Alfred, and you nearly refuse it but the look in his eyes makes you take a sip. Then another. Until you finished a quarter of the bottle. You hand it back to him and he caps it, and you let out a breath, standing up straight. Jason's hand goes to squeeze your shoulder and it spurs you a step forward. You push open those glass doors and enter the Lobby, making your way through the halls towards the ballroom.

You can hear the chatter before you reach the doors, each reporter and every goddamn news outlet in the city and beyond were called and invited to write a story of the circus of you and your family's grief. Outside the doors though is quiet, and you give a moment to yourself. You open your arms, and your children come huddling around you in a warm embrace. You lost your love and husband, but your children also lost their father. Silent save for the chatter inside, as you all give yourself a moment of comfort before the parade of press and questions. Fighting back tears, you grip Jason and Dick’s shoulders as they’re at your sides and they release you, though Tim, Damian and Cass are still clutching you. You give them a squeeze and they at last let go, though Damian stays a second longer. Alfred stands at the door and you approach him giving him a warm hug, “Thank you,” you say. For taking care of you, your kids, Bruce, the lawsuits. For supporting you through this time. Alfred also lost a son, and with that thought you tighten your arms around him a little tighter for a moment, then letting go. Once you pull away he’s then wiping stray tears that managed to escape from your eyes with a handkerchief. Even in the midst of his own pain and grief here he is taking care of you. Flashing him the smallest of smiles you can manage, you turn towards the doors, smoothening out your dress.

*Later there would be Style articles analyzing what you exactly wore to this press conference. Some saying you looked elegant and strong in the midst of adversity, others wondering if you could even afford new clothes as your outfit was clad with pieces you wore from past events. The worst and most absurd saying that perhaps the family was going bankrupt as you could not afford new clothes and perhaps Bruce’s death was at the cause of underground Mafia business or schemes and he got caught in the crossfire. None of them, not a single one of them knew that everything you wore today contained a moment, a memory, that he had given you. The dress you wore was one from your 7th wedding anniversary, the heels from the first gala you attended together and you stepped on his toes enough times for him to label them as “killer heels.” The small statement piece necklace that he had given to you on your birthday, the chain nearly choking you with yet another memory.

*You felt it slip off your neck as the chain came loose, as you leaned over the railing at the Santa Monica Pier, for a much needed family vacation. It had slipped off, and you dived for it, nearly falling off into the ocean, Bruce caught you in time of course, and thankfully you had also caught your necklace. You had earned a scolding from both your husband and your kids as they told you to be careful. It ended up being an inside joke over the years between the family. “Don’t go diving off any Piers now,” Alfred had said to you after saying your farewells to your kids and husband at the door, departing on a girls trip with Lois and Diana. The kids were hysterical chiming in with, “Yeah Mom!” You had shaken your head, hauling your suitcase to the car with a laugh and a wave…

The chatter dies down to hushed whispers that remind you of the crash of waves alongside a beach, a peaceful serene sound but so different than the one you heard now. Whispers and subtle gestures, some outright pointing as you entered the room. Paparazzi taking several photos as you entered those doors, and you know some journalists will begin to spin and twist your quotes and make their own narratives, and though you were about to open up a part of you that you were not ready to share… They would not know that you chose this place, your dress, shoes, accessories to give you something— anything for you to make you feel like he was here with you. Memories and gifts, things left behind were something that you could hang onto. Your kids, Aflred were people you could hang onto. And as you take a step, step by step towards that table at the back of the room on shaky legs you find yourself gaining that footing some sliver of confidence as you walk. You could do this. You had to do this. You take a seat. Your kids standing behind you as an adamant wall of support. Alfred is off to the side and he will be the one selecting the reporters with eagerly raised hands. “Damn vultures.” Mutters Damian. If the situation weren’t as it was you may have laughed, and chimed in with your own retort. But you say nothing, Jason squeezes your shoulder, Cass grasps your hand, and you look towards the crowd. Your gaze snags on Lois, she offers you a sympathetic yet encouraging smile, and you begin to speak. “I’d like to thank you all for coming here today, on behalf of me and my family. Thank you for your heartfelt condolences and prayers. I’m sure you’re all curious to know what happened.”

AAH OK FIRST LIKE FIC EVER!! I’ve never done this before. I’m nervous as heck posting this. Please let me know your thoughts, feedback, all of it please. I might make a part 2? Just for the heck of it. I also wrote this at like 3am? I did this for me because its been playing in my head for the past few hours and I’m like well I wanna write it. Please, please, let me know your thoughts? I tried my best and I’m now rambling cause I’m nervous AAH—

[shorkbrian]

Okay so pro hero kiri has this big fat crush on his co worker! Reader who unintentionally rejecting his moves on her because she is so shy and awkward but slowly she shown some signs that she is into him so he changes tactics and acts more romantic which adds bonus points once he sees her blush when she reads the note attached to a deep red rose! fast forward to a couple of months of pinning and he is getting very frustrated especially with her enticing soft curves of her body so (1/2) 🌠 anon

oof okay listen!!!! open ur ears!!! I have something to say

(Warnings - stalking, Somnophilia, dubcon, NSFW, unsafe sex, blood from a bite wound but it’s very brief lol)

You’re a little paper pusher at his agency, you barely even interact with the big man, but he always makes time to swing by your desk and chat for a bit before he heads home.

Unfortunately, you’re about as smooth as a piece of burnt toast. His casual flirting goes right over your head, and you keep rejecting his advances and it’s so fucking frustrating. Can’t you see how hard he’s fallen for you? Kiri doesn’t understand why you look away whenever he bends down to rest his elbows on your desk, giving you the perfect view down his shirt to see his fat pecs (the man knows he’s got a banging’ body okay). He doesn’t get why you shy away from his touch when he tries to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Kirishima can’t comprehend why you always turn him down when he mentions going out with you and some other co-workers (to make you feel more at-ease, he knows he can be intimidating) for drinks or a bite to eat.

He’s stressed - the man really wants to get to know you, but it’s like you’re completely oblivious to his intentions. He’s pretty sure you just see him as a goofy extroverted coworker that loves people. After all, he does stop and say hi to several other people every day as he makes his way over to your desk.

So Kirishima decides to up his game. Starts making his feelings obvious. He gets more touchy, perching on your desk to reach and rub your shoulders, laughing at your jokes and (gently) smacking a hand against your leg like a giggly schoolgirl. He talks about his workout routine and asks you if you think his muscles have been getting bigger. Could you check? Just with a hand around his bicep of course.

He buys a few gifts here and there; a cup of coffee for you with his number on the lid, a new pen when he noticed your favorite one broke, cute socks because he’s seen you wearing cute ones before, and he saw them and thought of you.

Each and every gift is accepted with the biggest blush he’s ever seen. You turn beet red, flush stretching down your neck and disappearing underneath your shirt. Kirishima chides himself for wanting to see how far the flush went, for wanting to rip off your shirt and bend you over right here and now.

But he didn’t like you just for your body, and he was willing to wait. 

Kirishima feels emboldened by the success of his other gifts, so he decides to write out his feeling in a note, get you a bunch of flowers, and present them to you Friday night. That way, you’d have time to think things over and process your own feelings before you saw Kiri again on Monday. To him, it seemed like the perfect plan.

And god, you were so cute when he gave you the flowers, he wanted to kiss you on the nose and then taste your lips, right then and there. 

But he didn’t.

He gave you a soft pat on the back before walking away. He was around the corner before he heard you gasp, which immediately made him backtrack and peek his head out so he could see you. Was it a good gasp? Or a bad gasp?

You had a little smile on your face, eyes twinkling as you read the note.

Kirishima pumped his fist, heart soaring. He finally got through to you.

Except he hadn’t.

On Monday, you didn’t say anything to him, hardly even looked at him. When he came by your desk to ask what you thought of the note, all he got was a fierce blush and mumbled sentences, before you bolted off to the bathroom.

It’s like he was back at square one. 

It made Kirishima feel... inadequate. His old middle-school insecurities came creeping back into his life. Was he not good enough? Was he just too boring and dull and you didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings? What was wrong with him?

But he was an adult now, he could handle rejection.

The thing is, you weren’t rejecting him. 

You baked him cookies, dropping them off in his office while he was out, but they had your name on them and the most adorable little note, and Kirishima’s heart almost exploded. Plus, they tasted delicious. 

He got a text from you one night, a cute picture of a spiky red dog and a “this reminded me of you... Sleep well! <3″ and he spent the rest of the night imagining your wedding.

You kept showing signs that you were interested, yet you wouldn’t even look at him in person. Kirishima concluded that you were just too shy.

That was okay. He realized that the more time he gave you, the more you opened up to him. Maybe in a few months, the two of you could go on a date or something!

In the meantime, the man liked to check up on you, make sure you were safe. He was invested in you now, subtly following you home some nights to make sure nobody looked at you wrong.

He broke into your apartment quite often, but it was entirely justifiable! He wasn’t being a creep (okay, well, maybe just a little), he was just being a good friend, a good coworker. He had to make sure everything was safe, that no one could get in (other than him), that you hadn’t left a candle burning or the stove going. 

You slept like a rock, staying asleep even when Kirishima accidentally knocked a cup off your counter and broke it. To his surprise, there was no awakening, no screaming, yelling for him to get out or that he was a weirdo. Just you, snoring in your bed, a tiny bit of drool at the side of your mouth.

It was such a domestic scene, it warmed Kiri’s heart.

Sometimes the man liked to slip into bed beside you, frame creaking under his weight. It was a tight squeeze-he was a large man and your bed was made for one (1) person, but Kirishima didn’t mind. It just meant he got to press close to you, feel the warmth of your smaller body, hear your quite little huffs and snores and mumbles as you slept. 

He let himself relax, sink into the mattress. The next time he crawled into your bed, he let himself wrap an arm around you. The time after that, Kirishima felt brave enough to scooch under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he found that your pajamas consisted of a giant shirt and panties.

Bare legs.

Glad that he wasn’t a teenager anymore, he didn’t have to worry about cumming in his pants. Still, he found himself leaving your apartment with a chubbed-up cock more often than not.

You were just so soft. He wanted to touch all of you, to lick all over and get your plush flesh in-between his teeth. He wanted to bite into your shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress, pumping you with load after load of cum, until your stomach was swollen and you cried because you felt sick.

But Kirishima also wanted to hold you close, take showers together and wash your hair for you, make coffee in the morning and talk about last night’s episode of “Chopped”. He wanted to give you sappy smooches before getting to work, make you laugh with goofy jokes and give you hugs, pick you up and twirl you around whenever he saw you after being apart, no matter if it were days or minutes.

The nasty, dirty thoughts warred with the soft, gentle ones. Sometimes they mixed, Kirishima daydreaming of sweet, romantic sex. 

He just wanted you so bad.

One night, he’s crawled into bed with you like usual, rubbing a sock-clad foot over your bare legs, pressing chaste little kisses to the top of your head as he draws you into his arms. It was nigh impossible to wake you, so he felt no fear or apprehension in taking such bold actions.

Shuffling in your sleep, you throw a leg over his hip, snuggling deeper into the solid warmth that is his body. Kiri sighs, contented.

And then you start making noises.

Little huffs of breath, tiny whimpers, and when Kirishima looks down, your eyebrows are drawn up. You twitch against him, against the thick thigh that you had slung your leg over, and then repeat the motion. 

You’re.... You’re having a wet dream.

Kirishima lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus so he doesn’t crush your arm with his excited grip. You’re rutting against him steadily now, dragging your damp cunt against his leg, sighing at the friction, lips parted. 

His cock is rapidly hardening, and he wants to rub himself against your stomach, feel the cling of his shirt as he rucks it up with his rhythmic humping. But he doesn’t.

He’s a gentleman, he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that. You’re just having an unconscious reaction to a man being in your bed. Maybe further down the road, when he’s taken you on many romance-filled dates, then he can lay you down and whisper into your ear how much he loves you while the two of you make love.

The man is so taken with that fantasy that he almost misses the gentle gasp of a name falling from your lips.

But he didn’t, because it was his name.

A shiver ran through him; excitement? fear of you waking up? He didn’t know. When he checked your face, you were still asleep, letting out those little whimpers and moaning his name quietly.

God was real.

God was real, and he had made angels, and you were one of them. 

And lord forgive him, because Kirishima was about to sin.

How could he hold himself back? You were humping his leg, moaning his name and panting, in your sleep. You wanted him, you were just too shy to initiate or accept Kiri’s advances. 

Theres no way he’s holding himself back.

Covers are thrown off, Kirishima quickly detaching from you (oh how he missed your warmth immediately) to shuck off his clothes, almost falling on his face as he ripped off his socks. 

Then he’s looming over you, quickly pulling up your shirt, lifting your head gently, guiding your arms out. Your panties came off next, slid down your legs with shaky, excited hands.

Kirishima wanted to worship you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, laid there on the bed, whining in your sleep for him, thighs rubbing together. He felt himself salivating, jaw itching to open and clamp down, to eat you whole. He wanted all of you.

Climbing back on the bed, Kiri pumped his cock a few times, precum flowing from the tip helping to smooth the way. He was going to fuck you now. 

No preamble, the man just spread your legs, settling between them. A quick rub of your pussy with his fingers had him finding it already drenched, and he groaned quietly, the hand around his cock moving faster. 

He shifted back slightly, only far enough to lift your legs, pressing your thighs up and back towards your chest. Your breathing changed slightly, but Kirishima wasn’t paying attention to that now. He didn’t care if you woke up now, you had just been dreaming about him. He was your wet dream come true, you’d surely appreciate how good he was about to make you feel.

Lining up was a bit more difficult than Kirishima was used to - he’d never been this excited to fuck someone in his life, hands trembling, heart beating out of his chest, sweat slicking his skin. But then the tip of his fat cock slipped inside, stretching you open, and all was right in the world for Kirishima.

He wanted to slam home, to push and push until he was balls deep and his tip was kissing your cervix. But he held himself back - he hadn’t stretched you, and he didn’t like the idea of hurting you in that way, he wanted your first time with him to feel good.

So he went slow, pushing inside an inch, waiting. Pushing another inch, then waiting. Waiting waiting waiting, he almost couldn’t rein in his desires. But he did, for you.

“Kiri?” You mumbled, eyes fluttering open. Kirishima wasn’t expecting you to speak so clearly, hips jumping forward, seating himself the rest of the way inside your heavenly warmth as the man swore.

“Kiri?” Clearer now, with a hint of panic. Kirishima looked up, and you were fully awake now, looking at the man with wide eyes.

“Hey baby.” He whispered, smiling gently. Your hands rose, one resting against his bicep, the other settling on his chest, and he shivered at your touch, at the feel of your tiny little hands on his flesh. 

“What’s-? When did you....?” It was so cute, the confused scrunch of your face. You were still fighting the mist of sleep, blinking owlishly up at the man on top of you. Fear hadn’t kicked in, although it was simmering underneath the surface.

“Hey, shhh. Don’t worry, I’m here. Gonna make you feel the best, you’re my pretty little girl, know that? I’ve been waiting so long for you.” He whispered, swooping down for a gentle kiss.

You didn’t fight him, just accepted the lips pressing against yours with confusion. It probably felt like you were still in a dream, hazy and relaxed.

Kirishima couldn’t wait anymore, his cock was throbbing, your insides were molten and he felt like he was going to explode. He wanted, no, needed to move.

His first thrust was small, just a quick schlick out, and the same noise when he pushed back in. You were sopping wet, and the slide made it easy for him to move. Even more proof that you wanted this. 

You gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you pulled away from the kiss. Kiri huffed out a joyful, breathless laugh as he thrusted again, sparks of pleasure lighting up in his gut. 

“Mm, Kiri wait-” You moaned, nails digging into his bicep and chest. Kirishima ignored you, speeding up, trying to angle his hips to find your sweet spot. One of his hands held your hip, the other brushing your hair out of your eyes as he cooed at you. “Pretty baby, my beautiful girl. You’re making me feel amazing, love you so much. Feeling good? I can feel you trying to milk my cock. You want my cum?”

Dazed, assaulted by so many sensations straight out of sleep, you couldn’t exactly grasp what was going on. But Kirishima’s question snapped you fully awake, and you squirmed against his body. “No, no, don’t do that.” You mumbled.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I’m gonna pump you nice and full, you’ll feel all warm and round. Look so cute like this.” He grunted, going harder and harder with his hips.

Then he angled just right, striking your sweet spot, and you cried out in pleasure, bucking your hips involuntarily. “Mm, there we go. Feels good, doesn’t it honey?”

It was a rhetorical question - you were too busy writhing on Kirishima’s cock to answer, one of his hands pressing flat over your stomach to feel the subtle bulge of his cock as he fucked into your guts.

“Oh Kiri! Wait, I’m not-! Wait!” You whimpered, steadily reaching your orgasm. You didn’t want to cum, you needed to slow down and gather your wits, figure out what was happening and why Kirishima was here and when this had started and-

Kiri pulled out, quickly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. He was so strong, it was easy for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling you to your hands and knees. 

“Gonna fuck you full. You’re gonna take all of my cum, gonna get bred like a good girl, my good girl.” His teeth were clenched as he slid back home, hissing as your wet heat welcomed him. You whined at the pleasurable sensation, unable to stop your hips from fucking back, trying to take more of his cock. 

“Ohhh, fuck yeah, look at you. Knew you wanted this, wanted me. You’re so perfect, taking my cock so well. You like having my fat cock filling you up? Messing up your insides? Making you all wet and sloppy?”

His hand found its way to your clit, the area already wet from the copious amounts of slick and precum the two of you had produced. Kiri quickly began rubbing large circles over your button, thumb big and calloused and oh so good.

Kirishima’s other hand grabbed at your chest, attaching to your tit and pawing at you. He was quickly devolving into a feral man, animalistic in the way he fucked you, thrusts harsh and fast and too much but hitting you just right-

You cried out as you came, convulsing in the man’s arms at the strength of the orgasm he ripped from your body.

He didn’t take a second, spurred on by your orgams and the tightening of your cunt, and instinctively bit down on your shoulder, almost growling as he pounded into you.

“Fuck, fuck! Kiri ouch, fuck!” You yelped, his sharp teeth breaking skin.

The man paid you no heed, rabbiting his hips until he started to cum, his hot seed flowing into your pussy. His hips kept going, twitching as they slowed down until they stopped completely, both of you absolutely spent.

Nothing but the sounds of panting filled the air, and Kirishima finally unhooked his teeth from your shoulder, wincing at the stream of blood the started to roll down your back.

“Oh, baby m’sorry.” He mumbled, a bit drunk off the pleasure still coursing through his veins.  You collapsed forward, his arms no longer holding you up. 

Kirishima didn’t pull out as he laid down next to you, keeping your hips firmly cemented to his own so that none of his cum would escape, pulling you close to his body in the process. “Pretty baby, I love you. Thank you.”

It was just a dream, it had to be. You were left with no choice but to console yourself with that thought, unable (and unwilling) to think of any other possibilities. 

A wet tongue lapped at your back, Kirishima licking up the blood from the wound he inflicted. “I’ll be more gentle next time, I can be good with my teeth, I promise.”

You ignored him, letting your exhausted self flicker between awake and asleep, confused, disoriented, overwhelmed. 

What did he mean by “next time”?

[tangledinmdzs]

Your writing is wonderful and you are amazing! *Muah* everything is chef's kiss.

Could this wonderful person write drunk juniors, who been taken care by reader, confessing to reader?

I love your acc. It's addictive and worthy of getting addicted.

ahh

aw! you're much too kind. thank you for reading~

and yes i wouldn't mind doing this request at all, let's try this out!

i’ve written the opposite of this before, that you can read here

cheers~

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Lan Sizhui

the two of you are sitting in the park lot, under his apartment complex,

you’ve done your good duty of his friend by driving him home, 

but he’s making your life hard

because he isn’t getting out of the car,

“Sizhui, I have work tomorrow,” you tell him, hope to get some logic into him 

Sizhui isn’t a lightweight by any means

but growing up in a family with strict alcohol protocols (? is that what you call it?)

Sizhui hasn’t had that much experience

there are some drinks that he downs fine and others that wipe his ass

the bourbon shot thing that he had at the party a few hours ago, fell into the latter category

“y/nnnnnn, y/nnn, my y/n,” Sizhui sing songs, thrashing around in the passenger seat beside you

he’s so drunk, you think to yourself as you stare at the way his head leans on the seat belt, one he doesn’t want to take off

“Sizhui, let me unbuckle you, i’ll even walk you up,” you persuade and Sizhui actually shouts at you, objects like a five year old even though he’s 25

“no! staying here! with y/n!” Sizhui demands and you sigh at him, 

but you can’t even be mad, because he’s so loud and cute unlike his natural quiet personality

“A-Yuan, be a good boy and let me unbuckle you, okay?” you try to convince and lean over the console to unbuckle him

before you hand can get any close to his seat belt,

his hands are on your face

squishing your cheeks together,

“A-Yuan?” you manage to get out, though it’s probably incoherent with how squished your cheeks are between his hands

Sizhui smiles, hums at you, the red on his cheeks high

“pretty y/n, you’re the prettiest person i’ve ever met in my entire life,” Sizhui tells you and you wanna snort at him but your face is still in the mercy of his hands 

“t-tha-n- chu-” you try to say but stop short when Sizhui literally begins to lean in,

his lips are puckered out

he’s trying to kiss you

and he very well might!

you want to lean back on instinct, but Sizui’s got his hands on your face holding tight and he’s getting in close-

and there’s a small oof, from the man in front of you

the seatbelt that he had so adamantly tried not to take off,

limits him a millimeter from meeting your lips

Lan Jingyi

Jingyi hiccups as you both walk, swaying down the hallway to his apartment

it’s truly a miracle that you managed to even get him home, considering how simply wasted your best friend was 

“y-y/n,” Jingyi hiccups your name, when you lean him against the side of the his door 

you roll your eyes at him, and simply hold your hand out to him, 

“i’m dropping you inside, then i’m going home,” you tell him and Jingyi simply hiccups again, stares at you and then smiles sleepily 

“hmm,” Jingyi hums, almost as if teasing you and you let out a tired sigh (because this dude had been heavy to drag up the five flights to his apartment) 

and you just begin to pat down his jeans and pockets for his keys, because really you didn’t have time for his games

Jingyi giggles here and chuckles there, wherever your hands land on him, moving from his back pockets all the way up his chest 

“Jingyi, don’t tell me you forgot, your keys,” you’re really speaking to yourself at this rate, because Jingyi looks too out of it to even be processing anything that you are saying anyways

“didn’t forget, have them, right here” Jingyi says sleepily and pats the chest pocket on his jean jacket

“god, why didn’t you just tell me earlier-” you grumble 

your reach out to his jacket only for your wrist to be grabbed

suddenly, swiftly you’re turned, your back slamming into the space that JIngyi had been standing in, your hands tugged to a hold against the wall

you widen your eyes at JIngyi,

this close, practically nose to nose, you can really smell the alcohol around him 

“would you leave me after?” Jingyi asks you, solemn, sleepy 

“it’s your apartment, Jingyi” you breathe out because the air between you two had always been friends

flirty, teasing but friendly

friends

“can’t you stay?” Jingyi’ asks, and you stare at him

there’s a pause in between the both of you where you’re trying to read what his hazy eyes on yours might mean

“stay with me,” Jingyi repeats

you stare deeply at him, wondering if you can

if you should

Jin Ling

Jin Ling is not pretty when he is drunk

he is a sad, mopey, angry drunk 

luckily, he’s grown up to have a good hold with liquor

whether that be from experience or genes, you won’t know 

honestly you’d only seen him drunk on a handful of occasions

tonight, sat with him in the his newly moved in apartment, 

city ambiance behind you both in the late night

you’re seeing him again in this weird drunk state that he usually hides from you 

even though you both have been friends for years

“y/n,” Jin Ling starts, solemn, serious, deep drunk voice that he always has whenever he’s reached his limit

you hum at him, 

you’re pretty sober, opting for something fruit and light, not really having much alcohol 

you were really here to keep him company, because the trend tends to be that Jin Ling likes to vent when he’s drunk 

“you know, there’s someone that i like so much. i’ve liked them for...for some time. a long time...but i don’t think they’ll ever know,” Jin Ling admits to you 

and you hum, because it’s the same person that he talks about every time he’s drunk, 

“well, i mean, if you never tell them, they’re never going to know. so you’re really the one holding yourself back,” you say, a bit coldly 

because he always talks about this mystery person

“i’ve told them! more than once, but they still don’t get it, they’re so stupid,” Jin Ling says, takes a nice chug of his beer can and then crushes it

you huff out a funny laugh at his way of showcasing strength, taking a lip sip from your fruity mix 

“A-Ling you’re not the most direct person i’ve ever met. maybe it’s because you’ve been talking in circles with them,” you say, because leave it to Jin Ling to make someone misunderstand 

you’re about to take another sip from your cup when hands grab your shoulders, 

you’re turned roughly to face Jin Ling, scowling quickly after the surprise settles in your chest,

“dude! i could have spilled my drink-”

“i like you!” Jin Ling practically yells at you 

you look at him like he’s grown two heads; because he’s drunk, so drunk and so not sober

“i like you so much more than you’ll ever know. i think i love you y/n,”

his voice is so deep, so solemn and so serious 

he’s so drunk, you think as you stare at his flushed cheeks, tussled hair

you wish that he wasn’t

Ouyang Zizhen

you click your tongue at the sight of Zizhen, 

your friend had never had always been a lightweight 

but he still insisted on coming along to events like this, 

and then sprawling out to sleep at the bar, 

like he was now

softly snoring away as other patrons laughed behind their hands

you roll your eyes and push down the embarrassment as you do your best to get Zizhen awake and out of here,

because this place was really out of both of your depths if you were being completely honest

(you didn’t even drink)

“Zizhen, hey, Zizhen,” you call to him, pushing at his shoulder

you get to watch Zizhen slowly smack his lips before he turns to the other side of his arm to get comfortable 

“oh my goodness, Zizhen, please, get up,” you’re pleading to him, because you’re always responsible for him when it comes to things like this-

you feel a tug on your arm, 

you turn to look at Zizhen, blinking up at you from where he’s lying in his hands,

“you awake yet bud? i’m going to get a water bottle to sober you up a bit and then we better head out” you tell him, moving to do just that when you feel your arm tugged again

you turn to him, give him a looked (one of mild annoyance) and then move to leave 

the third tug on your arm has you sprawling down onto the table beside him,

luckily you don’t hit your head, as you land solidly on Zizhen’s outstretched arm

“can you stay a little longer? like this?” Zizhen sleepily, drunkenly asks you 

you blink at him, never having seen him at such an angle, 

sleepy profile and hazy eyed

“we...we should get going,” you tell him, though your voice is a lot more gentle than you wanted it to be

Zizhen hums at you, closes his eyes again

you watch him, can’t bring yourself to wake him again

his warm palm thrums against your wrist, 

where he still holds it

[witchyweasley]

Release the Tension - Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: The final year at Hogwarts is always a rough one, so you try to find ways to release tension in whatever way you can.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: smut, 18+ themes, oral (male receiving), public-ish?

The final year at Hogwarts is usually the most stressful. Professors expect you to be perfect, and every little mistake you make is amplified 10 times more than it should be because “You’re about to be out in the real world,” and “Hogwarts can’t protect you forever.” All of the little things really add up, and sometimes you just need a way to release the tension.

Thankfully, Fred Weasley has felt the same way. After one particularly rough game of quidditch and a victory party in the Gryffindor common room, I found myself waking up in his bed. The bed curtains were drawn, so hopefully none of his roommates saw me in there. They obviously knew someone was there, but they didn’t need to know who.

I quickly threw on my clothes and quickly headed over to my own dorm room, stepping over various passed out gryffindors who just didn’t have the energy to walk upstairs last night. I went down to the showers and got myself ready for the long day of classes ahead of me.

When I got to the great hall for breakfast, I found the Weasley twins sitting in our usual spot, both looking a little worse for wear.

“Oof, what got into you two?” I asked, sitting across from them.

“Firewhiskey. And a bit too much of it,” George answered as his fingers massaged his temples. “I’m going to go take a puking pastille, just to speed up the inevitable. Either of you want one?”

“No, I’m good thanks,” I answered and Fred shook his head no.

“Suit yourselves, I’ll see you in potions, if I make it that far,” George groaned as he headed back to his dorm.

“So, was I dreaming, or did we fuck last night?” Fred asked as he rubbed his forehead.

“As much as I would like to say ‘In your dreams’, we definitely fucked,” I said, loading my plate up with toast.

“I’m sorry, we probably shouldn’t have done that,” Fred said, grabbing a piece of toast that I buttered up for him.

“I don’t remember complaining about it?” I said nonchalantly.

“Oh? Have a bit of a crush do we?” He smirked.

“Not quite Weasley. It’s our last year of school, I’m not really looking for a serious relationship,” I said.

“So that was a one time thing? Damnit, I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night, then I could at least remember it,” Fred groaned.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a one time thing…” I suggested.

“Oh? And what do you propose?” Fred asked.

“Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits?” I suggest.

“No strings attached?” Fred clarified.

“Correct, just fucking no feelings. We’ve both got a lot of tension with school, quidditch, and worrying about the future, and I think last night we released some of that,” I said.

“Alright, I’m down,” Fred shrugged. I nodded and continued eating my toast, mentally preparing myself for my classes today.

“These are some of the most practical skills you will ever learn in your time at Hogwarts. These are also some of the hardest skills you will learn. Pay close attention to me, this will be on the test next week and I will not be repeating myself,” McGonagall said as she showed us a difficult spell.

My brain was already so clouded from the test in Potions where greaseball wouldn’t let us use our notes to brew a potion he only taught us a couple days prior. I couldn’t focus at all. I found myself staring across the room at Fred, watching his hands as he took careful notes of McGonagall's demonstration. He caught me staring at him and raised his eyebrows at me before mouthing “pay attention” at me. I just winked at him and watched his face flush at my actions.

After class I quickly caught up with Fred and dragged him away from his friends.

“Want to release some tension?” I asked, overly stressed from the last test. He smirked and pulled me into one of the many hidden corridors of Hogwarts, one I had never even seen before.

“How do you always know where these are?” I asked.

“Oh is that what you want to do, you want to talk?” Fred asked, towering over me as he backed me up against the wall, “Or do you want to fuck?”

I grabbed his tie and pulled his lips against mine in a rough kiss. My hands slid up into his hair, as he gripped my waist and pulled me close. A soft growl escaping his lips as I tugged at his ginger hair. His fingers began unbuttoning my top, stopping halfway through. No point in fully undressing in case someone were to miraculously come by and ruin the moment.

His lips travelled down to my jawline, making their way to my neck where he lightly sucked at the sweet spot. After making a small mark, he worked his way to my collar bones, and then down to my breasts. He pulled down the lacey cup of my bra and took one nipple into his mouth while he pinched the other, causing small, breathy moans from me.

As he moved to give my other nipple some attention, his other hand slipped down under my skirt, rubbing circles over my panties.

“Fuck Freddie,” I moaned, causing him to remove his mouth from my nipple and press a hard kiss to my lips.

“Quiet love, we don’t want anyone to catch us. Can you be quiet for me?” He asked quietly. I nodded in response, but admittedly I didn’t trust myself very much. I don’t think he trusted me either, but he returned back to giving my nipple attention. I bit my lip, but lost control as he slipped a finger into my panties.

“Do that again and I’m gonna have to make you be quiet,” He said, smirking at me. He knew what he was doing.

Biting down on my lip only got me so quiet, but not quite enough as he slid a second finger into my pussy. He quickly removed his fingers and put them in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Fine, looks like I’ll have to make you be quiet. Get on your knees for me,” Fred smirked. I sank down to my knees, watching as Fred quickly unbuckled his belt, and quickly released his erection from his pants.

He watched me intently as I took his length into my hand, pumping it a few times before licking it from base to tip. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as I took his length into my mouth, using my hand to pump what I couldn’t comfortably fit in my mouth. I continued bobbing my head, slowly taking more and more of him into my mouth. I then took his entire length in my mouth, causing a moan to escape from him.

I started to move back to make a snarky comment, but Fred pressed a hand to the back of my head.

“Don’t even think about it,” He said, knowing what I was going to say. He was now thrusting his hips, controlling the pace that I was originally in charge of. His head was thrown back and his breathing was ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he breathed out. His thrusts slowed down and soon he released into my mouth. I looked up at him while I swallowed the salty white liquid.

“What is it Mrs. Norris? Are children in the forbidden corridor?” I heard Filch say. Sure enough, Mrs. Norris rounded the corner and started meowing loudly. Fred quickly shoved his dick back into his pants, helped me up, and grabbed my hand as we started running down the corridor. Barely avoiding Filch, and just barely out running Mrs. Norris.

Once we were safe from them, Fred pushed me against the wall and kissed me hard.

“We can continue this after quidditch practice.”

[lihikainanea]

i’m shy and get embarrassed easily, so i have NEVER SAID WHAT IVE WANTED but i can’t hold back anymore, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT. actually, it’s not a want, it’s a need.

i need a really sub tiger (whimpering, spaced out look, needy, sucking on his fingers, etc) and daddy bill. sweet nani. TIGER call him daddy. i need big protector and provider vibes from bill.

also, i’ve read every single one of your posts ATLEAST 15 times. this page right here, feels like a safe space.

much love

ohhhhhhhh thank you bb! I love messages like this <3 I'm glad you submitted an ask, that's a big step--I'm proud of you, boo. This space is open and safe for everyone, it's all I've ever wanted to create, so to hear you say it--to know that you felt comfortable submitting an ask--bubs, that makes me so happy <3

I'm feelin soff and subby tiger these days. Not only because of this deadly heatwave that has been sweeping the entire fucking continent, not only because work has been hell on earth, not only because I'm finally on vacation next week after not taking time off for a year and I feel like I'm crawling towards the finish line, bruised and battered, on all fours pleading for mercy.

Oh wait, that's exactly why I'm feeling soff and subby tiger these days, so small and where she can just disappear into her bubble of safety and just know that she'll be taken care of.

If you’ll allow me to self-project for awhile, as I’m wont to do rather frequently--maybe tiger has had to be Boss Bitch for awhile. She’s not having a hard time at work--no no, quite the opposite actually. She’s killing it. Stepping up when she has to, working long hours. Maybe her boss quit all of a sudden (hello, self-projection again!) and tiger is just stepping in and getting shit done. And ike a Queen, that ‘tude is bleeding into other aspects of life. Bill has a wonky shelf that needs fixing and while he’s usually quick to fix those things, it’s lagging and tiger just thinks--fuck it, and fuck you too. Bill comes home and she’s power drilling the thing back in place. Changing the light bulbs. Replacing the battery in her smoke alarm. Doing all the groceries. Cooking. Working late into the night. Picking up his dry cleaning. Her friend is going through a bad break up--tiger is there, packing her shit up with her, finding her a new apartment.

Tiger can sometimes be a bit of a procrastinator--which Bill likes, because then he gets to step in and do things for her and he loves the smile she gives him when he does that--but lately? Bill can’t get there fast enough. Tiger is handling it all, knocking it out of the park, and making it look easy.

The problem is she also kind of works herself into a tizzy--because tiger doesn’t like having too much control. She can absolutely do everything herself, but part of what she enjoys so much in her dynamic with Bill is that she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to be in control, or have all the power. She can give that to him, and she can just float in that place free from all burdens and responsibility and know that she’ll be taken care of. There’s an immense power in relinquishing control. And like everything, tiger swings violently from one extreme to the other--she has all of the control, she’s handling shit, she’s handling shit like a boss--until she gets real small, because she doesn’t WANT to handle this much, she doesn’t want to be the boss bitch anymore, she needs a balance where she can be ballsy and courageous in her professional life but that balance comes from being able to be subby with Bill, being able to be put on her knees and be his good girl.

Yin and yang.

And Bill senses it. He probably knows by the crazy twitch in her eye, her subtle irritability, the way a problem no sooner arises that tiger is throwing some power tool, some 7-step coaching programme, some advice from years of therapy--just something at it. Bill barely has time to mention that something in the house needs fixing, let alone fix it himself--because tiger is all over it and then some.

Bill knows the pendulum is swinging just a leeeeeeeetle too far one way.

And maybe the next day when tiger gets in from work--she has a list of shit she needs to get done tonight, and she’s still tapping away more on her phone: bake brownies for a work potluck, fix the chain on the toilet, scrub the bath tub, build the IKEA shoe cabinet she bought, give Bill head because it’s been awhile, put the final tweaks on a presentation. And her nose is in her phone when she walks in the door, so she doesn’t see Bill standing there in the hallway--doesn’t see the way he has his arms crossed, the authoritative set to his jaw, his pinched eyebrows.

“Hiiiiiii,” she calls out blindly down the hallway as she toes off her shoes, drops her purse on the floor.

Bill doesn’t respond. Her eyes are still on her phone, her thumbs going a mile a minute.

“Did you get the drill bits I need?” she’s still yelling because she hasn’t seen him yet, “That fucking IKEA cabinet Allan key bullshit won’t--oof.”

She walks right into his chest, stumbling back a step or two as she startles. And then she notices--notices how tall he’s standing, notices the set in his eyes, his clenched jaw. His crossed arms.

“Hi,” he says simply, lowly.

“Hi,” she stammers, “I uh, didn’t see you there.”

“I know,” he says--and then he reaches out, takes her phone from her hands. He puts it in his back pocket and crosses his arms again.

“On your knees,” he says.

“Why?” she mumbles it before she can stop, and it’s just automatic when she’s been like this--question everything, oppose everything, demand answers. But Bill just cocks his eyebrow, bends a little at the waist and gets his face in close to hers.

“You don’t get to ask questions tonight,” he whispers, and it’s soft but deliciously menacing and threatening. Tiger bites her lip, and she’s so mesmerized by him, already so turned on, that she’s rooted to the spot and she doesn’t move.

“Tiger,” he says harshly, “I won’t repeat myself.”

“Oh,” she snaps to her senses, shaking the fog from her brain. She drops to her knees. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Do you like all of this, tiger?” he weaves a hand in her hair, gently tugging it so her eyes are on him, “All of this control? All of this power?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try again,” he says, “All of this responsibility, fighting everybody’s battles. Taking care of everyone else--but who is taking care of you, hmm? Who’s taking care of my sweet girl?”

And her walls are starting to come down, that pendulum is starting to swing back ever so slowly in the natural direction.

“I am,” her voice cracks, and she says it so lowly he barely heard it.

“What’s that?”

“I am,” she says again, just a twinge louder but even then it’s barely a whisper.

“You are,” he says, “Just handling everything like a big girl. And do you like that? Not letting me take care of you? Not needing me?”

“No,” she admits.

“And is that part of our deal?”

“No,” she says again, leaning forward and bunching his pant leg in her fist. She just wants to touch him, wants to be close to him, and Bill would never stop her from doing so in moments like these. He presses his thumb to her lips, easing it inside. She sighs and her shoulders sag with relief.

“Then I think we need to fix that, don’t we?” he asks, “I miss my sweet girl.”

She whimpers around his thumb, inching on her knees closer to him and resting her forehead on his thigh.

“Do you want me to fix it sweet girl?” he murmurs, “Get you back right again?”

She nods, but he snaps his fingers and he swears that she moaned a little.

“Yes,” she says immediately, “Please, Bill.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” he says, and he withdraws his thumb from her mouth, closing his hands around her shoulders and lifting her so she’s standing in front of him, “I think I need to hear that a little more.”

She whines, but he slams his lips to hers. He kisses the hell out of her, all tongues and teeth, pulling away as she gasps for breath.

“If you want me to fix it kid,” he purrs, “Then you’re going to beg for it.”