#but also I wouldn’t trade them for anything

[crosseyedheartt]

Listening to Keith’s interviews from the past five years is so funny. He did one on Apple for the tattoo you reissue a few years ago and the interviewer was trying to plug the spatial sound version of the album that was going to be on Apple and Keith was like “well I don’t really trust remasters I think you should just keep it the way it was originally intended to be.” As if he forgot he was there to promote a remastering of his album 😭😭

[panpteryx]

Oh yeah so they are! I was mostly thinking about exotic pet care guides, which (due to reptile YouTubers) I suspect may be the primary way people find out about snakes and other less-appreciated species. They do have a tendency to blur the lines between “common, not endangered, native to [local region]” and “uncommon, at risk from poaching, native to [far away region]”? At least, the guides I’ve seen usually only mention foods other than rodents if the snake might have difficulty recognizing frozen/thawed rodents as food.

The conflict between “reptile YouTube spreads awareness and appreciation for species people typically consider to be distasteful” and “yeah but their information is often inaccurate and the husbandry is poor 90% of the time so is the appreciation worth it”, I guess

….though now I’m wondering if my ball python would like an egg as a treat, they eat a lot of birds in the wild and I’d be surprised if they didn’t eat the eggs too. guess I’ll do some research lol, chicken eggs *are* pretty big so they might not be safe, but maybe quail…

This is a gentle reminder to those who keep poultry to PLEASE keep in mind wild snakes if you are using fake eggs in your chicken coop. Snakes are incapable of digesting the wooden/plastic/ceramic fake eggs that are commonly placed in chicken coops to train hens. Snakes (like this little ratsnake here) can and often do eat these fake eggs and suffer life-threatening obstruction as a result!

If you need to use fake eggs in your coop please strive to ensure that the enclosure is snake-proof (difficult) or superglue 3 or more eggs together so that snakes cannot consume them and become obstructed.

[saphronethaleph]

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.

[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’m so gonna get hate for this. And it will probably get about 4 notes. This is, by far, the most opinionated thing I have ever posted on here. If you can’t tolerate criticism towards Rick Riordan, the books, or the TV show, please keep scrolling. My goal is NOT to change your mind or start arguments.

I also want to preface this by saying that I love and respect Rick Riordan (even if I disagree with him on things and don’t like some of his choices) and fully acknowledge that he has the right to do whatever the hell he pleases with his own series. I also want to say that I love Annabeth Chase (both the book and tv show version) with my entire being and you will never find me being an Annabeth hater. She’s my girl.

We good? Okay cool. So here’s the thing: I’ve seen a lot of people on here saying things like “If you didn’t like the books, you just don’t know how to have fun,” and “The new book haters are just mad that they aren’t the target audience anymore,” and (my personal favorite) “Nothing in the books has changed, only the readers have.”

And while I see your points, and I respect you, allow me to show you something. Because of the 10 picture limit, I am only going to focus on one specific change: Annabeth’s view of Percy.

WOTTG: Annabeth is surprised to be comforted by Percy

Past Books: Percy is constantly comforting Annabeth

WOTTG: Annabeth is shocked when Percy is smart

Past Books: Annabeth often points out that Percy is intelligent

WOTTG: Annabeth thinks Percy can’t do anything on his own, and Rick communicates that Annabeth is always saving his ass

Past Books: Percy is ALWAYS watching her back, and saving her ass just as much (and Annabeth admits that)

I could put a hundred quotes in here. I could go on and on and on. But I can’t, and I won’t.

My problem with this new book is NOT that it is more goofy than serious. My problem is NOT that little things have changed. My problem is NOT that it’s just for fun. My problem is NOT that it’s much more childish. (And by the way, I’ve read PJO and HOO as an adult, so it’s not like I was a child when I read everything else and am now an adult reading the new ones.) I really did like and enjoy many parts of this book.

My problem is that the characters (especially Annabeth) have flat out changed—in bad ways—and we have no choice but to accept it as canon. My problem is that Rick, while trying to merge his books with his new TV show project, is changing the entire personalities and past behaviors/ tendencies of the characters.

I loved Chalice of the Gods. You know why? It was fun, goofy, and showed the characters that we know and love being happy and adorable. I strongly dislike Wrath of the Triple Godess because the characters—no matter how adorable and happy they might be—are no longer the ones we know and love.

My problem is that Rick Riordan fully admitted that he no longer considers the old book characters when he writes the new books. He is now purposefully incorporating his own personal mixture of the book characters and tv characters and writing those versions instead. Because of his desire to change and transform the series, I doubt he’s even read the original PJO or HOO books in years, which is why everything is so inconsistent. The old book characters—the ones who made the series what it was—are gone. And that is not my opinion. Rick fully admits that he doesn’t imagine them when he writes anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the tv show actors. I adore Walker and Leah and Aryan with my whole heart, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But the fact is: they will never be exactly like the book characters. It’s impossible for actors to become the words on a page. They’re their own unique version! And likewise, you cannot turn actors into print. It doesn’t work! And why would you try? The books versions were perfect as they were. And the disney kids need to make the characters their own. The two versions can exist side by side, equally as wonderful, and still be gloriously different. We should celebrate the uniqueness of both. But instead, Rick is attempting to merge them into one. And in my opinion, it’s just hurting them both. And I’m gonna get real brave by saying this, but do you want my honest prediction? If he keeps doing what he’s doing now, the TV show is going to get cancelled and the books are going to turn into a joke. I so, so badly hope that this doesn’t happen! I have loved Rick and PJO for many, many years. I badly want both to thrive. But what is going on right now… it is not working, no matter how much we all want it to. And speaking as someone who knows people in the TV/Film industry, I am sadly not the only one who thinks the show is gonna flop. Which is devastating, because Rick Riordan deserves a redemption on the big screen, and the incredible actors deserve to bring this series to life in a new way.

I am not trying to force my opinions onto anybody. You are welcome to disagree with me and move on. I am not saying that I’m right and you’re wrong. If you disagree, that’s okay. If you agree but you don’t have a problem with it, that’s okay. In fact if other people have literally no issues, that makes me somewhat happy. And if you loved the book, I’m honestly so stoked for you. Feel free to just keep on scrolling, my friend.

But me? I’m sad. I’m really, really freaking sad. And I’m a little angry too, even if I don’t have a right to be. I can’t help it because I’m only human. But this is how I—and a lot of other people—feel. And you know what? That’s okay too. Because the fact of the matter is:

Annabeth isn’t the same Annabeth anymore. And Percy isn’t the same Percy anymore. And it’s not because they went through trauma, or because time has passed. It’s because Rick Riordan doesn’t have any interest in writing those versions of them anymore. And I think the comparisons between the old and the new show that fact pretty clearly.

[markrosewater]

The Nadu Situation

This has become a big topic in the community this week, so I wanted to add my thoughts to the discussion. My focus isn’t on the banning, but on the behind-the-scenes processes that led to it. I’m Head Designer, so I want to focus on the design elements of the situation.

When we make Magic there are a few things we do to try and make it the best it can be. First, we design in what we call an iterative loop. That is, we make something, we playtest it, we get feedback, we make changes on that feedback, and begin the next iteration of the loop. We try to get as many iterative loops in as we can before the set is locked (aka “no more changes”).

No matter where we set that line, there’s a last day to make changes. Moving that line earlier doesn’t change anything other than giving us less iterative loops to improve things. Also, we make lots and lots of last minute changes. The vast majority of them make the game better. I understand there’s more focus on the times we make a mistake, but it represents a truly small percentage of the changes.

Also, whenever we design a card, we ask ourselves, who is this card for? If we’re trying to make game play the best it can be, it helps to understand who will use the card, where they will use it, and what they will do with it. Obviously, in a game as modular as Magic, the players can often zig when we expect them to zag, but in general, this process leads to the best design.

We have two play design teams, one focused on competitive play and one focused on casual play. The competitive play design teams determines which cards they think have a shot at competitive play (remember we’re making predictions as where we think the environment might go,we don’t definitively know; we need to make an environment complex enough as to entertain tens of millions of players). The casual play design team then looks as the cards that don’t play a competitive role to see what casual role they can play.

With that said, let me respond to a few popular lines this week:

“Stop designing for Commander” - The nature of competitive formats is that only so many cards can be relevant. As you start making more competitive relevant cards, they displace the weakest of the existing relevant cards. That’s how a trading card game works. That means that not every card in a set (or even just the rares and mythic rares as the commons and uncommons have a big role making the limited environment work) has a competitive role. As such, we examine how they will play in more casual settings. There’s no reason not to do that. And when you think of casual settings, you are remiss if you don’t consider Commander. It’s the 800-pound gorilla of tabletop play (aka the most played, heavily dominant format). Us considering the casual ramifications of a card that we didn’t feel was competitively viable is not what broke the card. Us missing the interaction with a component of the game we consider broken and have stopped doing (0 cost activations), but still lives on in older formats is the cause.

“Stop making late changes” - Whenever you see an airplane on the news, something bad has happened. It crashed, or caught on fire, or had an emergency landing, or a door fell off. Why do we still make planes? Because planes are pretty useful and what’s being highlighted is the worst element. That focus can lead people to false assumptions. Magic would not be better if we stopped making last changes. A lot *more* broken things would get through (things we caught and changed), and many more cards just wouldn’t be playable. Our process of fixing things up to the last minute does lots and lots of good. Maybe it doesn’t get the focus of the screw ups, but it leads to better design.

“Everything needs to get playtested” - My, and my team’s, job is to take a blank piece of paper and make something that doesn’t exist exist. That’s not an easy thing to do. I believe play design’s job is even harder. They’re trying to make a balanced environment with thousands of moving pieces a year in the future. And if we’re able to solve it on our end, that means the playerbase will crack it in minute one of playing with it. One minute, by the way, is the time it takes the Magic playerbase to play with a set as much as we can. There are tens of millions of you and a handful of us. There simply isn’t time in the day to test everything, so the play design team tests what they think has the highest chance of mattering. They take calculated gambles (based on years of experience) and test the things most likely to cause problems. Will things slip through? There’s no way they can’t. The system is too complex to not miss things.That doesn’t mean we don’t continually improve our processes to lower the chances of mistakes, but nothing we’re going to do can completely eliminate them.

Designing Magic is difficult. Next year is my thirtieth year working on the game, and I think we have the most talented team we’ve ever had. Plus, just as we iterate on the designs in a set, we iterate on design processes of making Magic. How we make Magic today is light years different, and I believe better, than how we made Magic when I started. (”If I have seen further, it’s because I stand on the shoulder of giants.”)

One final thing. I’ve always pushed for transparency in Magic design. No one on the planet has written/spoken about it more than me. I truly believe Magic is better as a game because its players have the insight to understand what we, the people making it, are doing. We do ask for one thing in exchange. Please treat the designers who take the time to share with you the behind-the-scenes workings of Magic design with kindness. We are all human beings with feelings. There’s nothing wrong with feedback, but it can be delivered with common courtesy.

[verstappen-cult]

Could you do a Lestappen one where they act as her voice after reader is advised not to speak due to a sore throat that has left her hoarse

Your phone lights up with an incoming facetime call from your mother, Charles is grabbing it before you can even reach for it.

“Charles?” Your mother’s voice cuts through the air. “Hello, darling. Where’s my daughter? What did the doctor say?”

“He advised her not to speak or it may get worse. He also prescribed her some medicine.” That’s when Max enters the living room, a glass of water and your pills on his palm. You see him waving at your mother before joining you on the couch.

“Take this, baby. It will make you feel better.” You kiss Max’s cheek before accepting the pills and water. “Good girl.” He says, making you blush. You mouth to him to stop, pouting to your phone. You’re definitely never going to be facing your mother again if she heard him. But she doesn’t say anything, so you relax.

Charles chats animatedly with your mother for a few minutes while you cuddle next to Max and look for something to watch on the TV.

“How is work going, darling?” Your mother asks. You’re going to open your mouth to answer her, but Max beats you to it.

“Everything’s good. Next week she’s going to Paris for a meeting,” Max explains, hand on your knee. “something about making some changes to one of the last projects.” He shrugs and you feel your heart hammering in your chest.

It’s unbelievable how much they care about you. Ever since you’ve been like this they have not leave your side. And it is not like they don’t do that every day but now it’s just extra special. And kinda funny because you can talk, the doctor said you can’t raise your voice and need to drink lots of water, but can communicate verbally. It’s them that won’t let you.

The call ends with your mother telling you to take care and thanking your boyfriends for being so attentive with you.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asks and, knowing they will scold you if you talk, you give him a thumbs up. Your throat doesn’t hurt that much anymore.

The bell rings and Max is up in no time, when he comes back there’s a smiling Lando by his side.

He waves at you and Charles before handing you a bag. “I got you this. They bullied me into buying it because it is my fault you can’t talk now.” Lando looks down when he meets Max intense gaze, he looks like a scolded child.

When you open the bag you find a whiteboard and a pen. It makes you laugh and decide to use it. They wait patiently as you take your time to write, making them believe you’re actually writing something important. Once you finished you turn it around to reveal a ‘you’re all idiots’.

You know you will be using the whiteboard a lot around them because it’s impossible to get them to understand that you are fine. It may be a little annoying but you wouldn’t trade them for anything.

[hvlcy0n]

SAY IT (PT. 1) . . . hayato suo x fem!reader

+ you’ve never reciprocated any of suo’s confessions of love, but a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation among you and your friends grants him all the insight he needs.

+ 4.2k words

+ NSFW (MINORS DNI) // UNEDITED // brief mentions of sex // mentions of edging at the end // brief mentions of overstimulation // mentions of past heartbreak/insecurities // established relationship // manipulation // i got all the big stuff but i’m definitely forgetting some minor stuff i’m just tired of looking at this

+ this is my first time writing suo so plEASE cut me some slack, i got tired of seeing it every time i opened google docs. i left any descriptions/names of your friends extremely vague on purpose so you can fill in whoever. the NEXT part of this will be centered around smut, but this one was more just kinda the build-up to his decision to push you out of your comfort zone.

suo has always been able to see right through you.

granted, that was his area of expertise—the ability to pierce through people’s defenses as if they were nothing more than a gossamer film and unearth whatever information he resolved to discover. he was regarded as dangerous by both allies and enemies, capable of sinking his fingertips into peoples’ psyches and peeling back the layers until their self–control began to fracture and ruby welled beneath his touch and trickled down to obscure his opponents’ vision in an all–consuming bloodlust that left them vulnerable and uncoordinated. 

he had a critical eye and a terrifying intuition; and while his friends wouldn’t trade him for the world, they were also aware of the uncharted territory of suo’s complex character—not to mention the existence of a small distance between them that had been discreetly established by suo himself. while he genuinely enjoyed the presence of his friends, he valued his privacy and space, and he often kept information about him restricted. he was more enigmatic than anything else. 

so, when suo offhandedly mentioned having a girlfriend, they were shocked. although emotionally intelligent, none of his friends pegged him as a romantic, his secrecy and manipulative tactics seemingly too insurmountable an obstacle in a relationship. generally, he was kind and respectful, but his demeanor could flip on a dime in the face of discourteous behavior. he could be mean—unfair.  it wasn’t uncommon for him to mask his slick tongue and cruelty behind refined language and his gentlemanly composure as he subjected his targets to public humiliation. sometimes, his emotions could get the better of him, and he could be frightening when they do. a gentleman? maybe. but there’s more nuance to him than that.

unbeknownst to them, suo was remarkably softer with you. warmth and genuine kindness emanated from every content smile and careful dance of his hands over your skin, calloused fingertips bearing an ardent reverence that would cause even aphrodite to flush. the sharp edge to his tongue smoothed, his teasing light-hearted and devoid of the faint, underlying drip of venom that could sometimes be heard punctuating his words if someone listened closely enough. when he observed you, his eyes glowed with innocuous curiosity and rather than distant analysis. 

the more time he spent with you, the more he could read you like an open book, deft fingertips tracing over even your most tattered, weathered pages and the most smudged ink to wholly bare the contents of your soul to him. he sought to know you in your entirety—your likes and dislikes, how you like to be touched, how you react to certain things. after all, the more he knows about you, the better he can protect you. 

the better he can love you.

love.

that’s a tricky subject for you to navigate, he’s learned.

you were never one to shy away from his affection. in fact, you clearly delighted in the attention he lavished you with. there was never a question as to whether you would hurry to lace your fingers with his if he reached out to you, if you would lean into his caresses, or if you would let him pepper kisses across your cheeks. you were so receptive to his ministrations, so much so that it was almost natural for your body to drift toward his in search of some sort of closeness. whatever he doled out, you returned, and that included the light banter and flirtatious remarks you two often exchanged. you fascinated him, kept him on his toes. 

the only area of your relationship that you fell short in was verbal confessions of love. suo knew that you were fiercely protective of your heart, already having subjected it to enough bruises and scrapes throughout your life to make you want to guard it to the best of your abilities. he was fortunate as it was that you had trusted him enough to relinquish it to him.

he knew that you were still learning to navigate the choppy waters of vulnerability—true vulnerability. it was easy enough to bask in suo’s attention and rely on his ability to comprehend the unspoken, but to say the words aloud would be to speak it into being, to charge the universe with the magnetic force that will bind your fate to his, to make it real. you never said anything that you didn’t mean, and suo understood that after all your hard work fortifying your emotions, to openly admit it would require you to let down your guard entirely and let him in.

there’s no doubt in his mind that you love him. he can feel it in the way you pour every ounce of heartfelt emotion into the kisses you press to his lips, your dedication toward memorizing and analyzing all of his microexpressions so that you can understand him on a deeper level, and the adoration that pools in your eyes like molten honey as you observe him when you think he isn’t paying attention. only a fool would mistake the depth of your feelings. 

he can read you like a book, that much is true, but it’s much more enjoyable to have it read to him line–by–line than to flip through the pages on his own. 

it’s quite endearing, actually, the way your skin would warm and your brain would stall whenever his lips would brush a saccharine “i love you” over the shell of your ear, or the way goosebumps would scatter across your skin and you would clench around him whenever he’d pair the words with a well–timed thrust inside you. he thrives off flustering you and witnessing your demeanor crumble into a delightful shyness that never fails to cause a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

even so, he sometimes finds himself yearning for that reassurance that you’re as irrevocably enamored with him as he is with you—that you crave him the way he craves you. he understands that it’s greedy of him and that he should tamp down such self–centered emotions. he knows what your feelings toward him are; it would be inconsiderate of him to pry you out of your shell until you’re ready in order to satisfy his own desires. the concept of love operates differently for different people, and he can accept that. 

it always slips his mind how swiftly things can change.

it was a complete coincidence when he’d stumbled upon you in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant, accompanied by a few  friends of yours. he recalled you telling him that you were going out for lunch with them, but he had no idea that his outing in search of a new pair of shoes to replace his worn ones would cause your paths to cross. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on your conversation, only to simply greet you and then continue about his business, but he paused when he heard his name leave one of your friends’ lips.

“so, are you and suo still together?”

oh? before he can even acknowledge the gravity of contravening your privacy, his body is sparked into motion all on its own. he’s quick to retreat, melting into the slanted shadow proffered by the slim alleyway he had been poised to exit, just beyond the scope of your view.

he’s well aware that this is an infraction of the trust you extended to him, but he forces himself to disregard the prick of guilt aside in favor of potentially learning valuable information about the inner workings of your brain. it may not be ideal, but it’s for the best, he reasons. what if you reveal to your friends ways that he could better serve as your boyfriend? what if you feel more comfortable explaining to your friends your reservations about returning his heartfelt confessions? besides, the conversation is technically also centered around him, so surely it would be rude to bar him from listening in.

“of course,” the thought of you denying your relationship was never a concern for suo. you both trust each other implicitly, but to hear you stake such an immediate, explicit claim over him rouses a ticklish spark of delight in his stomach all the same. you scoff, as if the idea was so improbable it was ridiculous. “i’ll tie that man up in my basement before i let him just leave.” suo chuckles gently to himself. perhaps you truly are as invested as he is, after all.

“the dick must be fucking life–altering, if that’s the case.” she laughs. “come on, tell us. is it?”

“wh—” suo’s lips settle into a small, amused smile as he watches you flounder under her questioning, eyes feverishly flitting to your other friends for help, only for each one of them to leave you to drown with their own wide–eyed, inquisitive stares. “oh, my god, i’m not telling you that!” nervous laughter wracks your chest. suo’s shrewd gaze can practically perceive the memories flickering through your brain as you try to maintain your composure, each one spliced together in a salacious collage that has blood thrumming beneath your skin. suo has always been one to fine–tune his craft, and his perfectionism extended to the bedroom as he used his meticulous attention to detail and acute awareness of your reactions to guide you to your peak over . . . and over . . . and over again until he was satisfied.

and of course, you knew that.

“but seriously,” another girl props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm, observing you closely. “i’ve never seen you like this before. before him, you were all ‘ew, gross, men’—not to say that isn’t still valid, but y’know. maybe suo really is a good match for you.”

“do you love him?” the first girl pipes up ecstatically.

now we’re getting somewhere.

it requires significant concentration for suo not to laugh outright when a jolt of surprise grips your body, your muscles visibly tensing and eyes rounding. your lips part to speak, but the words remain wedged in your throat. “i—uh . . .”

“wait, for real?” the third girl, who had remained quiet this entire time, finally speaks up. “do you not actually love him?”

this time, when you don’t at least make an effort to deny their claims, suo’s smile begins to wilt. from suo’s angle, your expression is sapped of the typical bashfulness he had been anticipating. rather, your features are murky with conflict, brows furrowed pensively and fingertips drumming against the chilled glass of the untouched beverage sitting between your palms. for the first time in a while, he can’t read you, and while he’s always enjoyed a bit of reticence and mystery, he doesn’t want it like this—not when such uncertainty is founded on the future of his relationship. did he misunderstand you somehow? was he wrong? no, there’s no way that you’d have done everything you did if you didn’t harbor some type of love for him. it’s simply not plausible. right? 

the silence is unnerving, causing a chasm of apprehension to split his stomach and swallow up the candlelit flicker of warmth that once resided in his chest. he’s never been an anxious individual, typically collected and level–headed under pressure. in fact, he’s always prided himself on his ability to remain composed; but now, as he stands here, body stiff and heart thumping as he waits for you to continue, he figures that love really is one hell of a drug. only the wideness of his eyes betrays his usual poise, but even that would be enough for any of his friends to notice that something is amiss. well, mature as he may be and as far above the fragility of human nature that others believe he is, he’s still only human. and it’s times like this that remind him that he’s still weak.

god, how far has he fallen? how much power did he give you?

“all this time, i thought you guys were in love.” the second girl gasps, hand flitting up to cover her mouth. “so, what’s going on? what’s wrong with him?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to find your voice to defend him, but for some reason, it doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the worried spin of his mind. “he’s wonderful, it’s just—”

“is he mean to you?” the second girl presses. “because if he is, i can—”

“he’s obviously not mean to her if she’s still with him.” the first girl retorts, silencing her with a dismissive wave of her hand. before the second girl can argue, she continues. “it could just be that it’s too early for her to know if she does.”

“it’s been months.” the third girl points out. “something has to be up if she doesn’t love him—”

“i do!”

suo’s fingers twitch.

your friends fall silent as the words burst from your chest, unwavering and aflame with conviction. your voice quiets as you fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, eyes still fixated on the cup in front of you. “i do love him, it’s just . . . i’ve never felt like this for anyone, and i don’t know what to do. it feels so real and intense, and it’s scary.”

your words reverberate through suo’s mind as he expels a breath he didn’t notice was wedged in his chest. “i do love him.” his entire body seems to decompress, the tension in his muscles alleviating. “i’ve never felt like this for anyone.” suddenly, your hesitance makes sense. not only were you protective of your heart to begin with, but the magnitude of the importance of this was much larger and therefore more frightening than he realized. suo’s heart swells in his chest at your confession, pride licking up his sternum to grace the apples of his cheeks with a feather–light kiss of ruby. he’s honored to be the first person you’re entrusting with such a privilege—well, even if he’s not supposed to know about it yet.

“what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” the first girl stares at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. she flips her hands over with her palms facing toward the sky. “tell him?”

“i can’t just do that!” this time, it’s your turn to look at her like she just told you she ran over a family of five with her chevy tahoe, and suo chuckles.

“and why not?” she flops back in her seat incredulously.

“i just told you, it’s scary!” you insist matter–of–factly. “you remember the last guy i was with? it lasted one month, and in that amount of time, i aged thirty years and had stress levels that would’ve gotten me sent to the emergency room.”

suo hums softly in surprise. you didn’t tell him about that. of course, he had suspected that someone had dragged you through the trenches prior to accepting him as your boyfriend, but he felt as though that was a topic that would be better left to your discretion. you would tell him if you wanted him to know, so he never questioned you.

“yeah, but suo is way better than him.” the third girl reminds you. “at least, i think so. i only met the guy like twice.”

“helpful.” the second girl remarks dryly.

“no, he seriously is so much better.” you insist. “he’s everything i could’ve asked for, but it’s just . . . exposing myself like that would mean he has everything he needs to hurt me, and if i end up flat on my ass again, i don’t know what i’m gonna do. and i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but . . . ugh, this is impossible.” you let your head loll back. 

there’s a brief stretch of silence before the second girl speaks up again, and this time, her voice has flattened into a deadpan. “girl.” she blinks at you. “that’s the issue?”

clearly not anticipating that reaction, you stare blankly at her for a moment, searching for the right words. “i—what?” you bristle defensively. “what’s that supposed to mean? is that suddenly not a good reason to bare my heart and soul to this man?”

“no, it’s actually really not.” the third girl joins the second’s campaign. she scoots forward in her seat and folds her hands delicately on the table. “let’s reflect. this is suo we’re talking about. this is the same man who stayed the night and took care of you religiously when you were sick with food poisoning from your first date, the same man who gave you earrings similar to his for your birthday, and the same man who showed up at your house in the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on his back to accompany you when that storm knocked your power out—as a ‘friend.’” 

“why did you use air quotes around the word ‘friend?’” the first girl narrows her eyes at the third.

“because he was playing the long game, okay? he was plotting. stay with me now.” she answers quickly, placing her hand on the first girl’s knee. 

suo chuckles, raising his brows. he has to admit, your friends are impressive.

“so,” the third girl continues. “those are just a couple examples, but it’s crystal clear that suo is devoted. like he’s in this to stay.”

“or he’s some sort of supervillain.” the second girl interjects.

“don’t say that!” the third girl snaps, aghast. “no, yeah, you’re right. the ‘untouchable’ furin graduate who took a bat to the ribs just to keep her safe is definitely here to create lifelong trauma for her. anyway, as i was saying,” she turns back to you, “if that’s not enough, think about it this way. suo is really private, right?”

“right.” you nod.

“well, he was probably in a similar boat as you, then. i mean, you said that you were worried that you’d be giving him what he needs to hurt you, but the inverse is also true, and he already told you he loves you. he trusted you not to hurt him with that information, so you should be able to trust him not to do that to you, either.”

“that’s . . . wait,” the wheels rotate in your brain as you mull over her advice, and your hand drifts up to conceal your mouth in a moment of clarity. “oh, shit. no, wait, yeah, you may have a point. i didn’t think about it like that.”

“that’s what you have us for.” the third girl grins.

“so, does that mean you’re gonna tell him?” the second girl quirks a brow at you. “maybe? probably? hopefully?”

“uh . . . probably not . . .” you wince, only to jump when you’re promptly subjected to an onslaught of groans and complaints from your friends.

“dude, what the fuck?” 

“i know, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“did you get nothing out of the conversation?”

“no, i did, i swear!” your desperate attempts to defend yourself against your friends are fractured by bouts of laughter. “trust me, i did.”

“so, what’s the problem now?” the second girl drags her palm exhaustedly down her cheek.

“the issue is that it’s still embarrassing!” you whine. “you literally said it yourself earlier. i’ve never been like this—ever! just thinking about saying it makes me wanna crawl in a hole. it makes me feel, like, exposed or some shit, i don’t know—quit looking at me like that! i don’t know how else to explain it!”

“don’t piss me off.”

 “what?” your lips pop open in indignation. “but—”

suo’s slender fingers settle delicately over his lips as he chuckles to himself and steps completely behind the alley corner. his eyelids flutter low, gaze soft with contentment, as he listens to you scramble to defend yourself against your frustrated friends. it’s alright, they’ve done plenty. he can take it from here.

the conversation bounced around between the four of you has certainly altered the circumstances, providing you with the clarity needed to shed your reservations about setting yourself up for a potential heartbreak and unfurling the remaining layers of your defense to reveal the lingering issue still barring you from being honest about your feelings. at this point, it seems to no longer be about you being ill–equipped and underprepared to handle such a divulgence, which he could certainly accept. now, it appears to be about disentangling yourself from the binds of shame and embarrassment. about you requiring a little push in the right direction—well, less of a small nudge and more of a guiding hand that you would trust to unravel you down to the strings of your heart.

fortunately for you, there is no one more aware of what loose threads of yours to tug on in order to achieve his goal than suo himself.

maybe it’s unfair of him to change his mind and concoct an excuse to denounce the leniency and understanding that had been fueling his patience thus far. maybe it’s unfair of him to take the initiative to strip you of the protective cocoon he had previously been more than prepared to allow you to reside in. maybe it’s unfair of him to press you, to utilize his silver tongue and honeyed words to draw out your rawest and most vulnerable state.

but when the opportunity has practically tripped and fallen into his lap, how could he not? it isn’t as if it would be a detriment to you. he has never led you astray, and he certainly isn’t going to start now. 

a venereal plan is already brewing in the back of his mind as he mulls over how to best extract such a confession from you. no matter what type of attitude you may acquire or how sturdy you believe your resistance to be, pleasure has never failed to whittle and melt you down into a pliant puddle that’s all soft edges and hazy, trusting eyes. an even trade—a release only he can provide for the secret you’re trying so hard to keep from him? this evening, perhaps, if he plays his cards right. you don’t have plans tomorrow, which means you certainly can’t be too angry if he keeps you awake into the darkest hours of the night. 

he can practically feel the ghost of the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he keeps you pinned so that you can’t escape his ministrations, taste the salt brimming in your tears of frustration as you war between your pride and surrendering to the pleasure he plans to dangle in front of you, and hear your whines and moans as he keeps you just barely balanced on the precipice of release. he can already predict how you’ll label him as mean—manipulative, even. and maybe he is.

he’s only human, after all. 

and what would humans be if not flawed? if not a bit cruel? if not a bit . . . selfish?

[vernoniekiss]

svt when their idol s/o win an award | [ ot13 ]

a/n: hi guys, had this in my draft for along time. currently working on the requests sent ! underestimated how long it’ll take to think of how each members would act in these scenarios.

[🫧] seungcheol

- really proud of you. stands up to clap for you, you bet he’s tryna clap louder than everyone.. shares all photos taken of you with your reward on his story, weverse with the caption “proud of you”.

[🫧] jeonghan

- he makes all the members clap for you (they’ll all clap for you even without him asking of course). “aigoo~ you won” he’ll say while pinching your cheeks. he’ll treat you for dinner that night!

[🫧] joshua

- his ◠‿◠ smile is what shows up on the big screen after you were presented your reward. he’s so proud of you, those late nights he stayed up with you working on your song. all paid off in the end.

[🫧] junhui

- happy boy. cheering you on from his seat. the type to jump up and down from his seat as well though. awkward hug when you come back because of the camera on you guys.

[🫧] hoshi

- cheering for you, cheering for you LOUDLY at the ceremony that you can hear him all the way from the stage 😞. let’s everyone know he’s your number1 supporter. takes a lot of pictures of you and your reward (makes you do horanghae:/ )

[🫧] wonwoo

- claps and smiles. gives you a massive smile when you’re in your seat but when you’re in private he’ll give you millions of hugs and kisses. “i’m so proud of you..”

[🫧] woozi

- dad smile when you’re doing your speech. deep down, he’s really proud of you. those lates night you’ll stay with him at his studio going over your song, the lyrics, the beats. worth it all. wouldn’t trade the smile you had when they announced you as a winner for anything.

[🫧] dokyeom

- cheering for you LOUDLY. beaming at you from his seat. “i knew you could do this!” gives you a big kiss on the cheek when you’re back next to him.

[🫧] mingyu

- also posts you everywhere !! he’s so proud of you. the type to shed a few tears when you. gives you a massive hug when you come back to your seat. forehead kisses !! lots of them.

[🫧] minghao

- posts you on his story as well. when you’re at home, he hugs you tight while swaying you both side to side. a lot of kisses that night with praises “well done 宝贝 [baby]”.

[🫧] seungkwan

- he’s so so sooooo proud of you. he promotes your win on his social media and also sings your songs during karaoke whenever he can. holds your hand for the rest of the night :) not afraid to show affection in public.

[🫧] vernon

- proud of you, sits there nodding his head with a smile whiling looking at you on the big screen. side-hugs you when you come back to your seat which is designated right next to him.

[🫧] chan

- like a proud dad 100%. clapping loudly with a huge smile. has his arms out waiting for you to give him a hug when you’re off the stage. give the man the hug !!!!!

[mydarlingclaudia]

I’m still coming back to you

note : divider is from @/aquazero. I've never written smut before, plus this is probably ooc, so I'm sorry if it's not the best. I based this off of She's My Collar by Gorrilaz. since this is smut mdni.

wc : 1.3k

desc : you and Leon have something special, neither of you would trade it for anything. smut!! - oral (f receiving), more focused on Leon's pov, fwb (kind of??), Leon being kinda head over heels for you, a little bit of angst, not proofread, fem!reader, wrote this with DI!Leon in mind

Leon thinks he might be in love with you. You’d always welcome him into your home, or he’d welcome you into his. You helped take the stress away from his work and made him forget that everything was out to get him. The two of you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but he knew damn well that he was yours and you were his.

It was routine. Leon would come back from a mission, wash up real quick, make his way to your apartment with a gift for you in his hand, and you’d be there waiting for him, like you usually were.

He’s been doing this with you for a while now, he’d met you at a bar in D.C. a few years ago, a one night stand turned into the two of you continuing to run into each other whether at the same bar or anywhere else in the city, and that led to more nights of the two of you passed out in his bed or yours, wearing nothing but love-bites and blankets. He liked you a lot more than he’d anticipated, he liked doting on you a lot, too.

Leon coming home from a mission wasn’t the only time he’d see you. He had a busy schedule, you knew that, that was the pretty much the only thing you knew about his job besides it being doing dangerous things for the government, but he’d try to see you once every couple of weeks at the very least. His arrival wouldn’t always be a surprise, he liked taking you out to dinner almost as much as he liked having sex with you. Leon did his best to plan dates with you, they weren’t ever anything really mind blowing, usually just dinner dates or him taking you shopping. Leon liked watching you try on dresses, he liked sharing a bottle of wine with you, he liked spending some money on you.

He couldn’t stay away from you, and you couldn’t stay away from him, he could die and still find a way to get back to you.

Leon never asked for your number, he hardly used his phone for anything outside of reading the news and work, he figured that if he had your number, he’d never put his phone down. Of course, that didn’t keep you out of his mind all day long. And it’s not like him not having your number made him unable to ever see you, he knew where you lived, he knew your work schedule. If he was to drop by your house and you weren’t there for some reason, he could just leave a note taped to your door telling you to come meet him at his apartment.

Leon also thought that if he got your number and ended up losing his phone on a mission and it got into the wrong hands and they somehow found out about you, then things wouldn’t end good for either of you. That’s why after he joined the DSO he hasn’t been in an actual relationship, as much as he longed for one, he knew he couldn’t risk it. You were the closest he could get to that, he’d never really be able to date you, but you seemed happy with what the two of you had. Marriage and kids probably wouldn’t be his scene, anyway. And even if his relationship with you was able to get that far, he couldn’t just leave you home alone with a baby for weeks at a time, he’d feel horrible about it.

You’d never really talked about it, you’ve joked about it a few times, but there wasn’t really any significance behind them. It’s better that way.

Leon was lucky that you were his, even though it wasn’t official. He could pretend his life was normal for a few nights when he was with you.

The nights where he felt the most normal, was when he had his head buried between your thighs after he cooked you steak in the comfort of his apartment.

He’d just come back from California, as always, he didn’t say much about the mission other then it was more complicated then it should’ve been. Leon had told you that he went to the store and bought everything he needed for steak, all you needed to do was go home with him, which you were more than fine with. You always loved his apartment, it was comfy and smelled like him, you’d left a few of your own things there over the years. You knew what was going to happen when he knocked on your door, sometimes after missions he just had this look to him that told you he needed your help de-stressing, you were always willing to help.

Your back is pressed against Leon's bed while your hips are supported by his hands, your thighs rest on his shoulders, occasionally squeezing his head while he kneels between them. A string of shaky pants and whines fall from your mouth as he continues to eat you out, your grip on his hair tightens as you buck your hips against his face.

One of his hands leaves your hip to press down on your stomach, keeping you still against his mouth. Leon pulls away from you, pressing his face against your thigh and biting it gently.

"Stay still, like I told you." Leon mumbles softly, pressing down on your stomach a bit harder, the hand that had remained on your hip slips down to hold the underside of your thigh.

"C-Can't-" You whimper, weakly digging your heels into the back of his ribs to try and bring him closer once again.

"You can't?" He teases, raising an eyebrow and pulling further away from you slightly, to which you whine at. You removed your hand from his hair and sat up on your elbows and huffed, Leon only chuckled softly and reached up to place a hand over your chest, pushing you back down. Leon let his hand slide down over your breasts that were spilling out of the bra he hadn't bothered to take off of you after he covered your chest with soft indents of his teeth and hickeys, his hand returned to your hip before he attached his mouth back to your aching sex, sucking roughly.

Your thighs tightened around Leon's head again, refusing to let him go as your back arched ever so slightly off the bed so you could grind against his mouth. This time, he didn't pull away or scold you about keeping still, he just gripped your hips tighter and pressed his face against your cunt, lavishing attention to the sensitive flesh.

Leon always tried his best to savor you, even though you've done this together countless times. He loved the noises you made for him when he found the right spot to suck on or grind against, his memories of moments like these with you are what got him through tough missions, along with knowing that he'd get to do this all over again with you when he got home.

Your hand finds its way back into Leon's hair, he grunts against your flesh, giving your thigh a light slap as he pulls his head a few inches away, his breath fanning across your cunt.

"I know you missed me, but be patient. I've got you, I promise." He reassures you before he drags his tongue slowly up your slit, listening to you as you moan.

Your grip in his hair only tightens as you rock your hips again, feeling his tongue delve deeper to eat you out more thoroughly. He always did this; the teasing. You loved it.

Leon's down there for another five minutes before your orgasm washes over you, by the time he's done licking you clean, he's already gotten his belt buckle off and his pants unzipped, trailing wet kisses up your body before his lips meet yours. He'd never get tired of this, even if he does it one thousand more times, he'd do it happily. He's got you, and you're the best thing life has ever thrown his way.

[grison-in-space]

Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

[hotnbloodied]

Hi there could I request a yandere rich boy x gn reader can it also be a smut if you are comfortable.

Fun fact, this will be the first time I've written smut for this blog. I'm not too skilled at it I'll admit so I hope that what I wrote will be good enough for you my dear~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Rich Boy X Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, alcohol, drunk sex, yandere is pretty tame since there is smut. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

You were a business major at a prestigious college, you worked your butt off trying to get as many grants as possible. Even then, you still needed to seek out loans to help you in your class payments. Luckily you knew that if you wanted to take this path you needed to sacrifice a lot to the grind. A loud laughter broke you out of your thoughts, who the fuck is making so much noise in the library? You look over and see him, the ringleader surrounded by all his goonies, making you grimace. Derek, one of the top nepo babies at the college; his parents being owners of big trading companies. Rumors say that last week he couldn’t decide on either to get a Ferrari or a Lamborghini so he got both.

Laughter rang through the library again, why were they doing this here? There are literal private rooms they could rent if they really wanted a hang out place. Since you were a commuting student you didn’t have a place like a dorm to study in between classes that’s why you had to use the library. You couldn’t sit back and not say anything anymore so you walked up to the small group. “Hey, I’m sorry to be asking this,” why should you be the one that’s sorry you thought, but whatever, “I’m just trying to study and you guys are being just a little loud.” You look at each of their faces finally landing on Derek last looking at him in the eyes. His eyes widen and a cheeky smile spreads on his features again, “sure, if I can have your number.” You laugh slightly because you thought he was joking but he doesn’t laugh along with you so you gulp and take out your phone. After the exchange he leads his friends out of the library with him.

The next day after your classes you were in the library studying again. You noticed that someone sat down beside you and came face to face with Derek. “Hi,” he says with a smirk, “what are you doing?” You looked at him, confused, “I’m studying.” “Is it fun?” You scoff, “no, I wouldn’t say it’s much fun. But I can’t let my GPA drop so I gotta do it.” Your stomach growls, loud enough to be heard making you blush. Derek laughs at you, “come on, a bookworm still needs to eat right?” You were confused but packed up your things and followed him out to the parking lot where he pressed his keys and the lights to a Bentley lit up. What about the Ferrari or Lamborghini you heard about? Like reading your mind he said, “I like Bentley for everyday use.” He opened the passenger door for you as you sheepishly went in. The drive was surprisingly pleasant, the weather was cool and he had the windows down with the radio playing the popular songs, singing along to them making you laugh and sing along too. Your anxiety was raised again when you two arrived at what seems to be a restaurant with valet parking.

“Why are we here?” You ask while nipping at your fingers. He looked at you confused, “for dinner of course.” “I, uh, can’t afford something like this,” you said with a blush. His confusion turns into a chuckle, “dude what? My treat of course, come on.” He led you in and the host brought you two to a private room. You glance at the menu but don’t see any of the price tags, only stuff like aged wagyu. He looks at how you squirm and smiles, your range of emotions have entertained him since yesterday when you first looked at him. You were so different from him, constantly on the move, taking everything so seriously. What did it look like when you came undone? He was determined to find out.

He orders for the both of you and makes small talk to learn more about you, each word captivates him and makes him realize how oddly charismatic you were. (He’s already in delulu land) Each back and forth feels so genuine and like a breath of fresh air to him and the best part is that you would look at him when talking to him. When the food arrives you light up after each bite, never did your broke ass think you’d even taste food like this. And don’t forget the wine, you might have gone a little too far with it. He helped you back to his car and started driving, you had the window down and your head stuck slightly out and in the zone to notice that you never asked him where he was going.

He was bringing you to his place, leading you inside to his room, you crawled into his bed giggling. He gets in bed and hovers over your intoxicated form. “Hey, this isn’t my bed,” you slur slightly. “You’re cute,” he says. You giggle some more and boop his nose with your finger. He leans in and kisses you, you sigh as you wrap your arms around him and return the kiss. His hands start to roam and grope your body, with the help of the alcohol your skin feels extra sensitive making you whimper. “You like that?” He asks as he breaks the kiss to have a taste of your neck, licking and sucking with sloppy wet sounds echoing through the room making you moan out his name. “We’re just getting started darling.” He reaches down to your entrance, “look at you, you’re so excited to take me.” He slowly works one finger, then two into your entrance, the slow rhythm gets you worked up and you beg for more. Derek sighs dreamily, this is different when other people ask him for things. He wants to give you the world if you let him. He slips his fingers out of you and you whine more. “Don’t worry, you’ll be filled soon,” he slides his pants down and his girth springs up making your mouth water. You’re grinding against his shaft and it sends a shiver down his spine. He holds your hips in place so he can line himself up to your opening and slowly pushes in. You gasp as he enters, you feel so full and he did everything not to just ram it into you. You both fell into a rhythm, the sounds of skin slapping, whimpers and moans resounded through the room. You returned the favor and sucked on his neck and teased his nipples which got him worked up and he took your legs and pounded you in a mating press, the amount of pressure was dizzying and you found yourself being drowned in pleasure about to release. Your toes curl as you orgasm and he follows sooner after. You pass out and he looks at your sleeping form with his fluids leaking out of you. As much as he wants to keep you marked he gets a towel and wipes you and himself down before snuggling next to you.

Has he known peace like this before? His eyelids grew heavy as he listened to your steady breathing beside him. He was already convinced that you were the one meant for him, his one and only. He’ll take care of you from now on and he’ll do everything you ask of him. Derek didn’t even consider the fact that you might say no, because in his head he was going to make you his and it was your choice of either heaven or hell.

[girlokwhatever]

gf golden retriever!paige with blackcat!reader 🥺🥺

i love this cause we all know it’s true!!

golden retriever!paige bueckers x blackcat!gf hcs

🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛ golden retriever paige with a black cat gf,,

— she’s attached to your hip AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE

— she’s very very affectionate verbally and physically

- you accept it with love and appreciation

— she’s always hyper and you have to be the one to tell her to chill a bit

— will do absolutely anything for you

— you are very protective LOL

- “i don’t like the way she’s looking at you babe.”

— you’re also constantly side-eyeing people and it’s not even a joke atp

— she thinks you’re SO SEXXYYY LIKKEE

- you just have that demeanor about you

— she’s lowkey intimidated by you a little

- she knows not to make you mad

— she’ll take you shopping, buy you everything you want, AND carry all your bags

— you’ll be getting dressed up for the club; hair done, nails done, makeup done, outfit sexy and perfect

- she gawks over you the whole time

— she’s a big fan of holding your hand in public

— she also lowkey loves to be little spoon so that she can feel you holding her

— when you argue she gets really worked up and you’re always so calm about it but defo have a dismissive attitude

- you apologize later 🤗

— you highly value alone time or just silence every now and then

- paige is so respectful of your wishes cause she loves you so much so sometimes you two will just read forever and not say anything

— paige buys you guys matching clothes

— LIKE I SAID SHES VERRRYYYY AFFECTIONATE VERBALLY!!!!

- expect compliments every few minutes (every few seconds tbh)

— somehow she always ends up wearing lighter-colored clothes and you’re wearing something dark

— she’s also really attentive towards you

— paige really admires how well you can keep composure in literally any situation

— you’re definitely more introverted, not super talkative with ppl you don’t know

- paige is literally the exact opposite and tries to help bring you out of your shell

— she’s always saying how “mysterious” you are

— she can talk for hours and you’ll just listen

- that dynamic works really well for you two though, neither of you ever complain

— you both feel like you complete each other

- like she’s your other half and you’re hers

— you love giving her hickeys and she loves getting them

— at first it was kind of a struggle just because your personalities are so different

- but you both realized you brought the best out of each other and just need to communicate boundaries and wants

— she wouldn’t trade you for literally anything

— you’re sassy AF

— you actually lost her in the grocery store once cause she wouldn’t leave the tru fru aisle….

— “you look so edible right now i swear. please let me take a picture.”

- “edible paige, really?”

🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛

this is a cute trope!!

hope i did it justice 😜🩷😒🩷🩷

[moonstruckme]

I would love to see something from the beginning of poly!marauders relationship where they are figuring out that they all want to be together and learning how to make it work. I’ve always wondered how their relationship would start!

Thanks for requesting my love! It took me so long to get to it, I appreciate you being so patient with me <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Sirius is playing with Remus’ fingers, and you’re trying to figure out if the ache of longing in your chest is some relative of jealousy. You don’t want it to be. Remus and Sirius are your friends, and you’re happy that they make each other happy. And honestly, looking at them now, with Sirius’ leg slung over one of Remus’ and Remus’ long fingers in his grasp, you’re not sure which one of them you’d trade places with if you could. 

Things have gotten…complicated, lately, though none of you are talking about it. Two weeks ago, James had kissed you, and you’d really, really liked it, but you’d felt obligated to confess your confusion to him. You do like James and want him to kiss you, but you can’t help feeling guilty for also harboring feelings for two other people at the same time. It wouldn’t feel fair to start something with James, who deserves all the best anyone has to offer, if you feel like you can’t be fully in it with him. 

And of course you’d known he’d be cool about it, but you hadn’t expected him to truly understand. He’d told you that Remus had kissed him back before he and Sirius had gotten together, and James hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other boy either. Neither of you had quite known how to move forward in light of your admissions, but you’d agreed to put things between the two of you on hold for the time being. 

Then just yesterday, you’d been walking to class with Sirius, and he’d accidentally brushed your bum with his hand. The zing you’d felt was probably more a nervous response than anything else, but it had felt markedly different from the icky feeling you’d gotten when boys had touched you without your consent before. Sirius had been quick to apologize, and you’d waved it off, but you’d seen the look in his eyes. You aren’t usually one to flatter yourself by presuming anyone might have feelings for you, but the attraction in his gaze was unmistakable. 

You haven’t said anything to anyone about that, but even now, when he’s half atop his boyfriend, Sirius’ eyes keep flitting to where you’re working on your homework. 

“Anyone started on the potions essay?” Remus asks. 

“No,” says James. “Have you?”

“No.” 

You and Sirius both make quiet sounds of agreement. 

It’s silent again, the only sound the gentle scratching of pen on parchment. 

“Alright.” James sets his pen down with a thwap. “What’s going on with you guys?”

You look up, and he’s staring right at you. 

“What, me?”

“Everyone!” James shakes his head. “No one is talking to each other. Did something happen?”

You press your lips together, but Sirius blurts, “I told Remus I was into Y/N.”

James blinks, looking about as shocked as you feel but without the added embarrassment. You wish, not for the first time, that you could apparate straight out of Hogwarts. 

“It’s fine,” Remus says. “We’ve sorted it.” He gives you a kind look. “Don’t look so nervous, love, I wasn’t upset. It’s not like we don’t all have thoughts about other people sometimes.” 

Sirius looks unsurprised, and you gather that was a part of the conversation they’d already had, but James nearly chokes on air. 

“Do you?” he asks. 

Remus flushes, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around Sirius’. “Sure. Sometimes.” 

James and Remus’ gazes are locked, a sort of heaviness building in the air between them, and you hurry to dispel the tension. “I mean, you’re all very good-looking,” you laugh. “It’d be impossible not to notice each other.” 

Sirius seems on board with your plan of levity, falling easily into his default flirtatiousness. “Yeah, gorgeous? Do you notice as well?”

For a second, your mouth works without sound, your thoughts flittering about your head like frenetic butterflies. You’re sure your face is turning a humiliating color. “I—I mean, like I said, it’s hard not to.” You clear your throat. “You don’t get to be the golden boys of Gryffindor for nothing.” 

“And here I thought it was our brains.” Sirius grins, letting you out the trap he’d unintentionally ensnared you in. “Well, if we’re known for our looks, then it makes sense why you’re part of the group too.” 

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but you don’t miss Remus’ tiny nod of agreement. 

“Wait a minute,” James says, still looking between the lot of you like he’s refereeing a particularly perplexing tennis match. “So…Sirius and…who all here likes who?”

You go mute, as do the other boys. 

James nods, and he’s sticking his tongue in his cheek like he does when he’s nervous, but the set of his brows is resolved. “Okay, I can go first. I fancy each of you.” 

You look over at Remus and Sirius, but neither of them appear as shocked as you’d think the profession would warrant. Sirius opens his mouth like he has something to say, then shuts it again. 

“Trust me, I feel very weird about it,” James goes on anxiously. “I just wasn’t sure—”

“No, it’s alright.” Remus leans forward slightly, looking like he would reach out and comfort James if he were close enough. “I’ve…I’ve had similar thoughts.”

Sirius has ceased his toying with Remus’ hand, but he doesn’t let it go, looking down at their joined fingers. “Me too,” he says, not quietly but noticeably lower than his normal half-shouting volume.

“I never…I don’t really understand it all the way,” you admit. “But I think I like each of you too.” 

There’s another agonizing silence. Remus starts to brush his thumb gently over Sirius’ knuckles. 

“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” you say finally. “I see you two together, and I’m not jealous at all. But I like you both.” You look over at James, and your face hasn’t cooled at all, but it gets a new wave of heat now. “And you, too.” 

James gives you a little smile, and it’s like he can’t help himself, reaching over to give your shoulder a tiny squeeze. 

“I don’t think,” Remus says carefully, “that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, it’s not like any of us doesn’t like anyone else, apparently. Just…what do we do about it?”

You and James exchange a look, but this suddenly feels like something you shouldn’t intervene in. You’re both single, but Remus and Sirius aren’t. 

“Well,” Sirius drawls with a nonchalance that’s definitely forced but so familiar that you’re grateful for it anyway, “if it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to date.” 

“You are dating,” you point out. 

Sirius shoots you a mocking look. “Date all of you, smart-ass.” 

James lets out a little laugh, and you smile a bit at Sirius’ brashness. The both of you look to Remus. 

Remus only shrugs as if you’ve asked him to comment on the weather. “S’alright with me.” 

James really does laugh now, the loud, hooting sound you love so much. “It’s alright? You really do know how to make someone feel special, Moons.” 

“Fuck off,” Remus laughs. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Um, that we’re the most attractive people you’ve ever seen and nothing would make you happier?”

“Well there you go, James. You’ve said it for me.” 

The laughter dies out, the new awkwardness of more-than-friends settling over the four of you. 

“Well shit,” Sirius says after a minute. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “You’re the only ones who have been in a relationship, what do you guys do?”

Sirius looks at Remus, and Remus looks back. 

“What do we do?” Sirius whispers to him. “Do we…we go on dates sometimes, yeah?”

Remus nods, one corner of his lips twitching amusedly. 

Sirius turns back to you and James, nodding decisively. “A date,” he announces. “Pick you all up in, uh, our common room at eight?” 

“Eight is good for me,” James says, grinning so hugely you can’t help but smile with him. “Now, if we’re all done being weird—Y/N, lovely, could you help me with this charms homework? I’m dying over here.” 

You scooch closer to him, peering at his parchment and wondering if now you can stop cataloging all the places your bodies touch, your shoulder brushing his upper arm. 

“It looks fine to me,” you say after a moment. 

“I know, sorry” James replies, leaning into you so that the warmth of his arm seeps into your skin. “It was a charade.”

[walkinthrudaisies]

Lover Boy

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.5k | fluff

summary: the double life of dean winchester seemed to come out when he would be dangerous and sinister around demons, yet soft and gentle when it came to how he loved you.

dean winchester was a tough man. raised as a soldier from a young age, he grew into one of the strongest men you’ve ever encountered.

even with all of that to factor in, dean was still a complete softie at his core.

his childish love for certain things was definitely a major reason. though how he treated you definitely gave it away. dean was always looking for you in a room, never wanting to be more than two feet away from you. not getting a lot of affection as a child, dean’s love language was most definitely physical touch. the man had to have his hands on you at all times. wether that be around your waist, shoulder, thigh, or even around your middle.

don’t even get started on all the cute little pet names he called you. cheesy stuff like that never made sense to you. the notion of it all had you assuming that you’d laugh in a man’s face if he even tried to utter the word ‘babe’ to your face.

with dean, it was different. the first time he called you sweetheart, you didn’t feel the urge to giggle. actually, you felt a blush dust your cheeks and a shy smile overtake your lips. since then, the older winchester has been dabbling with all different sorts of names. you drew the line when he tried to add ‘sugar mama’ into the mix, but that was just dean.

baby, honey, angel, sunshine, you name it. dean was collecting them all like trading cards, and you seriously weren’t complaining.

on top of it all, dean was very over protective when it came to you. to dean, you were the best thing that ever happened to him. if anything ever happened to you, dean was positive he would never be able to forgive himself. so will all of his will, dean spent hunts focusing on two things — killing the monster and making sure you came out of it unscathed and wound free.

today was no different. sam had caught wind of a vamps nest down in georgia, and the two brothers weren’t against blowing off some steam and decapitating a couple of bloodsuckers.

everything was going as usual. you three scoped out the town, figuring out what the best place would be for the vampires nest. when the location was secured, you and the brothers waited until dusk. the sun was drifting down over the horizon, laying illuminating shadows over the ground as you creeped up towards the vacant barn behind dean.

both sam and dean decided that going in guns blazing would be the best option. catch some vampires by surprise and kill a couple before the real fight happened. you knew how to use a machete, and you’d beheaded a couple of vamps in the past, but dean wasn’t always so keen on you joining. his words exactly were ‘if anything happened to you i wouldn’t know what to do with myself. all i want is for you to be safe, baby.’

you understood where he was coming from, but you also knew you were fully capable killing a couple vamps without any harm. with a long hour of begging and pouting, dean finally let you tag along. his only proposition being you stayed close to him, which wasn’t a problem since you tended to do that anyway.

the three of you made it to the doors of the barn. sam didn’t wait before he swung the door open, striding towards the nearest vampire and smoothly chopping it’s head off. the fight was now in full swing. a total of six vampires had resided in this abandoned barn, leaving five more for you, sam, and dean to deal with.

you felt a tug on the back of your shirt as one of the female vampires tried to push you back. you weren’t stupid, nor incompetent when it came to fighting, so you instantly handled her blow and whirled around with a swift punch to her nose.

dean had taught you everything you needed to know about hand to hand combat. being there to help with your position and allow you to practice your at the time, feeble punches on him. there had been countless occasions where dean got sidetracked as his arms wound up around you from behind. his intentions being to help with your form, but he ended up ravishing on your soft skin instead.

your fight with the female vamp didn’t last long. after a couple of punches and attempts to throw one another onto some hay bales, you found the perfect timing to swing your machete and precisely have her head rolling. the satisfaction of the kill didn’t last long, for a gruff and aggressive hand pushed you hard in the centre of your back, sending you flying into one of the adjacent walls.

a big, burly male vampire had you cornered. he succeeded in knocking the blade out of your hand, sending it scattering across the floor and completely out of your reach. his solid face made it almost impossible for you to land a decent punch, for each time he took them with ease, a bored look on his face like he was unsatisfied with your feeble attempts to fight him off.

in a last minute effort, you mustered all your strength and pushed him as hard as you could. it didn’t work, for he just grabbed the back of your head and smashed your forehead against a wooden support beam. drowsiness was taking over, and you could feel his thick fingers wrap around your neck as consciousness started to slip away from your body.

accepting your demise, you just let him have it, knowing there was no way in hell you could fight him now. though to your luck, like an angel coming down from heaven to save you, dean winchester came into view behind the man’s shoulders. his face was set in a murderous glare, arm reaching for the back of the vamps neck as he forcefully pulled him off of you.

weak from the beating, your limp body fell to the ground. as you supported yourself against the wooden beam, you watched as dean completely ditched his machete and resorted to pummeling the vampire to a bloody pulp. dean didn’t want his death to be quick, he wanted to inflict as much pain on this vile creature as he had on you. with an unfiltered rage, dean completely wailed on the vamps face, leaving no room for him to fight back.

“how does it feel, huh? getting exactly what you gave. think you can hurt my girl like that? you’re lucky i don’t string you up and bleed you dry.” his words slightly frightened you, but you knew dean would never lean towards such gruesome acts of violence. in his rage, dean sometimes completely lost control of what he would say. allowing people to become slightly afraid of what he was capable of.

the feeling of sam’s comforting hands directed your attention away from dean’s brutal assault. the sweet man was making sure you weren’t badly injured. checking if you had a concussion or if the wound on your forehead would need stitches or not. as sam started gingerly touching the already blossoming bruise on your neck, you watched as dean grabbed his blade and crushed it down into the vampires neck. completely detaching it from his body and killing him for good.

like a switch had flipped in his brain, you watched as dean quickly put his machete into his sheath and dart over to you. sam’s voice letting you two know that he was going to grab the impala was completely drowned out as dean’s rugged yet gentle hands grasped your face. he moved it side to side, inspecting to see how badly that vamp had hurt you.

“oh sweetheart,” he mumbled, wincing as he noticed the gash on your forehead. “you’re okay. i’m here baby, i’m right here.” his voice soothed you, yet the aches and pains radiating through your head and still tender neck had you whimpering, sticky tears starting to collect on your cheeks.

leaning into dean’s hand, you let your first sob break free from your lips. “dean.” you mumbled, trying to get your words out through the lump in your throat and choked sobs. “it hurts. it hurts so bad.” the look on dean’s face could’ve broken down the strongest of men. he looked so distraught. almost as though the pain you were experiencing was finding a way to attach itself to his own body.

in a way, it was kind of just like that. dean seeing you in pain brought him pain. he would rather experience any form of hellish torture than watch you suffer.

caressing your cheek one last time, dean moved his arms around the back of your knees and shoulder. he picked you up bridal style, slowly walking his way towards sam and the impala. “i know baby, you are going to be just fine.” he whispered, relishing in the way your head snuggled into his chest. “i’m going to make you feel all better. i swear.”

the ride back to the motel was filled with sam’s frantic worrying and dean’s hushed voice assuring you on your recovery. he opted to sit in the backseat with you, resting your head on his lap while softly stroking your hair, smoothing it down away from the cut on your forehead.

as sam rolled in front of the motel, you heard as he told dean he would run to the nearest store and get some food, knowing you’d be hungry after everything that just happened. from the impala to the motel room bed, everything was a blur. the only thing you slightly remember is dean carrying you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you that everything would be fine.

placing you gently onto the bed, you watched as dean got up to go grab the first aid kit. his frame was becoming a little blurry as you felt yourself slipping into sleeps comforting clutches. dean’s hands softly shaking you and propping you to sit upright on the bed had your eyes reopening. his eyes held a gentle glint, yet somewhere in the mix, a cloud of panic and worry moved over it.

“cmon honey, stay awake for me.” his voice caressed your ears with a soft, gentle kiss that made you smile. yet at the same time, you could hear the underlying tones of panic and worry. dean was scared for you, and dean being genuinely scared was not something a lot of people saw.

you just smiled at him, moving your one hand so it was delicately placed on his knee. “i’m fine, dean. i’m right here, alive and breathing. nothing to worry about.” you could tell that your words eased him a little, but as his fingers lightly grazed your bruised neck, the worry rolled back onto him like a tidal wave. “fuck your neck. i let this happen to you, i am so so sorry-“

the feeling of your pointer finger coming over his lips stopped dean mid sentence, his stunned face in your direct eyesight as you gave him the most intense serious face you could muster. “i don’t want to be hearing any of that. you did your best, dean. you were busy fighting the others, and i had him until he turned my head into a whack-a-mole mallet.” your words had a slight laugh bubbling in dean’s lips, making your smile brighten. “none of this is your fault. blame the vamp. who thanks to you, is now as dead as ever.”

furrowing his brows and crinkling his eyes, dean mumbled to himself something he thought you didn’t hear. but you did. you always did when it came to dean. “he’s lucky that’s all i did.” dean’s blatant protective behaviour towards you made you feel comforted. yes you could take care of yourself, but it was nice to have that extra watchful eye every once and a while.

a quiet hum settled over the room as dean tended to the cut on your forehead. his hand lightly held your face, making sure you stood still. he also wanted an excuse to touch you, for your face was probably the most beautiful thing dean winchester had ever laid his eyes on.

“there we go baby, all done”. dean said as he put away the first aid kit. when the eldest winchester turned back to face you, your eyes watched as he gingerly grabbed your face. he didn’t want to hurt you, and your heart couldn’t feel more full because of it. with both hands clasping your face, he placed his lips on your temple, leaving a delicate kiss over the bandaged scrape.

he then moved to your eyelids, kissing each one as he envisioned your beautiful coloured eyes looking back at him. long lashes decorating them as you stared up into his own eyes. next he kissed both of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, and finally, dean left a soft, feather like kiss upon your lips.

dean kissed you as if you were made of glass. he was so worried of hurting you, making sure that whatever he did didn’t push on your wounds at all.

“i love you so much.” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours. so much so that your lips were still basically touching. “when i saw him hurting you, i felt something in me shatter. i don’t know what i’d do without you, sweetheart.” his words struck right into your heart, giving you such a feel of warmth that it spread throughout your whole body.

bringing your lips softly to dean’s cheek, you too left a feather light kiss on his cheek bone. voice vibrating off the surface as you couldn’t find yourself to move away. “i love you too dean. so much more than you could ever imagine.”

both you and dean’s declarations of love brought forth something into your relationship. a sense of love, hope, and security. you knew that dean would always be there to protect you, and dean knew that you would always be there to bring him down. rationalize his brain with comforting words when he needed them most.

the love you two shared was pure. something driven from fresh snow directly fallen from the sky. as the two of you laid down on the bed, you wondered how it was that you got so lucky with a man like dean. a man who loved so deeply and so ardently that it spilled out of his pores.

dean winchester was the man you were sure you would spend the rest of your life with. and as he molded your body with his, hand on the back of your head and making sure you two were as close as possible, you realized that there was nothing to worry about.

for dean would always be there for you, and always love you like it was his way of breathing.

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (2)

[Astarion x reader] Due to surprisingly overwhelming demand, the previous fic, along with this one and many more to follow, will now be part of a series!! It was honestly very difficult trying to come up with what happens next, but here we are. The idea came to me during a fever!! |Word count: 2.5k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 1 here!!

Next part here!!

The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Alternatively;An ex-art-student-now-traveler accustoms themselves to the party.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

“Shadowheart. Shadow…heart. Hm.” His gaze bounced between you and her. 

“I’m sure her parents meant well, but the name is rather ominous, isn’t it?” He leaned over to your side, not bothering to hide his blatant distrust. Lowering his voice dramatically, if anything.

“Unless she chose it herself. Which is even more worrying, honestly.” He chuckled out.

It had been no more than two bells after mornbright when you met Astarion. Since then, you’ve come to realize how…different your presence has changed the course of the story. Though more subtle than you expected.

It would seem as if you had met the elven vampire before the party was formed, which was strange as your last save point was far later than that and the forest had been quite a long way from the beach.

When you finally stumbled upon Shadowheart, he was quick to share his inner thoughts that you haven’t heard from the game before. 

As they continued with their quest to find a cure for the Illithid problem, expanding their party as they did so, you had tried to make yourself useful by doing the dirty work for them. Looting and opening crates filled with camp supplies, armor, and potentially useful weapons and artifacts could always come in handy for trade or for “artifact consumption,” as per Gale’s need. Sorting them for your group’s convenience.

And while you did not have more direct and immediate practical use for your course of study in the modern world, the research you’ve created and reviewed for character creation and world building was doing wonders for your survival.

Or as much as it can for a magicless, not so athletic human. 

The “runes” of the medieval ages that have been carved into stone, along with the basic history and background of the common races and deities of the fantastical world that tabletop RPG has offered puts you at quite an advantage.

Not to mention your experience with the areas of the game giving you the same effect.

But this library of information had also aroused something akin to suspicion and concern. It would be understandable if you were a simple traveler just like them, or perhaps even an artisan from the guild, but you were not as astute as either background.

So how could you have access to this much knowledge yet be unaware of more practical matters? It’s as if you had simply read about it from somewhere. 

Astarion had been quick to give an explanation before you could form one of your own that could poorly convince your companions. Although, perhaps his suggestion was more outlandish than anything you could have come up with.

“They came with me. Property and all the formality that comes with it. A family pet, if you will.” A perfect excuse to justify your constant proximity to him, and a likely explanation to being well read, but not well experienced.

You thought nothing of the title, your apathy to the non-hazardous labels of this world apparent.

The same couldn’t have been said about your associates who had a few comments about this disclosure.

“I am unfamiliar with the–well, I shall not say ‘culture.’ ‘Customs’, perhaps. I did not think your kind to house such breed of cattle. Perhaps they could be useful.” Was Lae’zel’s. 

“I assure you, they typically don’t. Humans aren’t naturally subservient to Elves, at least in this manner. This setup sounds more akin to slavery. Blink twice if you need help.” Was Gale’s response. 

“It seems like Astarion's from the upper city, given the embroidery on his armor. I wouldn’t put it past them to have servants that follow them around.” Shadowheart’s nose crinkled at the thought. 

The party already had such an interesting rapport. Not entirely comfortable with one another to divulge everything, but loose enough to have semi-pleasant conversation with.

You thought this as you sorted out the fruits of your collective labor into neat pouches and bags, keeping items similar to one another factioned into their respective holding space. The chest being closer to Withers more than you’d like, but it was nice to hear the ramblings of an…undead person? Hearing someone continuously talking allows you to be more productive.

You’ll admit, handling enchanted armor and crystals does make you a tad nervous but you’re comforted by the thought that it will not be you who wields it in battle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale approaching your direction. Possibly to ask for his share of the camp supplies just a little earlier to sate himself as you had an abundance of it for now. You regard him with your back turned and he stops for a bit.

“I will say that I don’t have the lightest of feet, but I figured myself better at sneaking around.” It’s not his fault that he got caught, but the bright purple robe and the smell of the oils you’ve been crafting for them are particularly noticeable.

“You are, but I’ll assume you're not exactly in the best shape after dealing with a few goblins.” You hold up a bottle of a healing potion, swinging it a bit with your fingers to indicate that the smell had warned you of his arrival.

“You’ve got a keen nose on you. Must be from all of Astarion’s training but, speaking of which,” He nears himself to your crouched form, going in to lean against a very old and empty crate.

“Gale, wait–” Right as your warning leaves you, they seem to evade him as falls right through the wood. A comical layer of dust and lichen pluming out from the force. He tries to quickly recover from both the physical and emotional damage as he brushes himself off to make himself presentable once more. 

“Ahem, as I was saying,” He again makes his way over to you, settling for just standing close as his attempts to look unbothered temporarily cost him his ego.

“I was serious about what I said before. While I don’t know what to make of our pallid friend just yet, as enigmatic as he is, what he said before is quite confusing. Best make haste away from here if you want your freedom while we’re distracted with this worm problem.” His tone suggests a genuine concern which confuses you.

You’d be lying to yourself if the label of the set up didn’t sound odd, but you’ve never expressed discomfort as there was nothing all too worrying about it on your end. It was mostly for show, and you had as much independence as Tav would have in your game.

You endeavor to quickly dispel his worries.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m very satisfied with my servitude under Astarion. He’s very lenient and reliable, and I’m better off with him than on my own." You return to your task of sifting through your materials but pause and look back up at him to continue.

"I do thank you for turning my way though. Your concern is much appreciated but unnecessary.” You lowered your head a bit to show your thanks.

“Well if someone as generous as yourself says to trust you on this, then I have no choice but to concede! I’ll keep a watchful eye and offer guidance, should you need it. Also, do we happen to have something for—” As he asks you for some sort of salve, just a few ways off, your eccentric “handler,” of sorts, watches the two of you interact.

Don’t get him wrong, such matters don’t really catch his attention, but being an elf does curse him with the ability to have extensive hearing. Something that he thinks Gale knew, and something you forgot. That would explain the lack of distance between you two.

He thinks it’s amusing how the wizard is trying to make conversation with you as if you were some foreign creature. His usual eloquence nowhere to be seen, and you seemed as unbothered as ever. Like how he usually saw you when you conversed with someone through a crystal.

It was a phone, not that he knew that though.

“They’re a real nice one, aren’t they?” Karlach says from her side of the camp which was nearer towards his tent and yours.

“Hm, yes. While that may be an admirable trait, it’s hardly going to get them anywhere if they keep this up.” Astarion huffed out, not very keen on your altruistic playstyle so far.

He doesn’t know much about what you do and don’t know, all he knows is that you do know of the events to unfold and could be the key to defeating his master.

 All he needs is to keep you at his side. So he’ll allow you this much freedom.

“Oh come on, you. You can’t seriously think that after everything. Our camp’s pretty well maintained because of ‘em, not to mention the connections we’ve been able to get!” She fortifies her statement by knocking on her chest, the engine humming within feels lighter and newer since you’ve informed her of the tiefling blacksmith at the grove. 

He hums in response, returning to reading his book as he thinks about his growing hunger. He’ll have to hunt soon enough. While your positive reputation occasionally reflects on him by proxy, it can also reflect negatively due to the alleged nature of your relationship. If he wants the journey to a way of understanding the tadpoles to be a more comfortable one, he has to at least prevent their trust in him from diminishing.

~

Night falls later than he’d have liked, having waited for everyone to be asleep so that he may prowl the forest for sustenance.

The rest were sound asleep in their bedroll as the skirmish from earlier on in the day had proven to be sufficiently tiring. The crackling fire surely brings a lulling warmth that he supposes he’ll have to miss out on for a while.

As he begins to slink off into the darkness, he looks back to gauge his surroundings and catches your form from across the settlement. It seems you were tallying away the items in the shared chest and double-checking to see that everything is checked and balanced with your records. 

Your shoulders jump at his suddenly standing form, but try to understand his intentions. You mouth, “where?” with a very confused face, to which he responds with a simple shushing motion and waits for your acknowledgement.

You nod slowly, and he holds your gaze before sneaking off once again.

‘He’s coming back, right?’ You wondered. The progression of your experience now in comparison to the game was vastly different, and you didn’t know if all scenes, or only some, would present themselves in this world. You assume he planned to hunt, and while you trust his abilities, you want to make sure he’s attended to properly should he be harmed in any way.

So after retrieving a few potions, a journal, and a pencil, you stashed them in a satchel and positioned yourself at the base of the tree in the direction he left in. You weren’t particularly sleepy tonight, and planned to pass the time in wait of your companion. 

There wasn’t much to do in this century to keep yourself entertained. The only things you’ve found so far were a few instruments and all manners of journals and inks.

The inkpot that you picked up appeared to be red this time. The game of, “which ink dye will I get this time?” will have to be the most of your entertainment for now. Not all too different from home, you suppose. And while writing keeps your mind at bay, illustrating all manners of wildlife have proven to be quite the fun exercise. 

You’ve made a few notes on creatures that you and your company have encountered. The visual elements of a drawing allowed you and the others to keep track of materials that could be salvaged from them, and their resistances to certain attacks. 

Though as much as you liked depicting such lifeforms in paper, you’ve come to be very interested in portraying your vampire friend.

Evidence of your interest present in the pages filled with his likeness as you search for an unmarked page. You’ve made a few of the others, yes, but anyone who would gain access to your journal would surely see which member of the group you favor more.

You continued to draw, and occasionally write, on the parchment as you waited for Astarion to come back. All sense of time evading you as you focus on the task at hand.

A perfect opportunity for a tired rogue to surprise an unsuspecting human.

“And what are you still doing up, little one?” He appears from behind the very tree you rested against, causing you to spill a bit of ink on your thumb.

You clicked your tongue, not at all annoyed by the character but by your absentmindedness and now stained appendage.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” You sealed the inkpot, and gathered your materials. Effectively, but unknowingly, hiding your work from peering eyes that were the same deep red as your finger.

“I’m very flattered, darling. But couldn’t you wait until morning? I'm sure this couldn’t have been all too important, yes?” He gestures to your satchel, referring to your journal, but you misinterpreted it as him asking for your medical supplies.

“Oh, that depends. Are you hurt, by any chance? I stayed awake in case you might've needed help tending to yourself.” You opened the pouch to reveal its contents to him, your stained thumb in full view.

The sight makes him sigh out, but is thankful for your offered service.

“I’m alright, nothing of interest happened while I was away.” He considers telling you about the nature of his little…'escapade.' He's unaware if you are of his condition, and he doesn’t wish to out himself if not necessary to avoid possible conflict. So he settles for advising you to rest.

“We need you well rested, my dear. You sleep. I’ll keep watch.” The dialogue is familiar, and you can’t stop yourself from letting a small laugh out as you responded with an equally familiar line

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for that.” You lower your head as you usually do in gratitude.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He mirrors your gesture, albeit in a way that is most appropriate for someone of his character. “Sweet dreams.”

You walked back to the chest. Returning the potions and ink you’ve plucked from the supply, but keeping the rest of the pouch’s materials with you as you turn in for the night. Awaiting the promise of further study that a new day typically makes.

As Astarion is left with his own thoughts, a sour taste still in his mouth from his earlier meal, he thinks about the man in the journal you kept. He did not see much, only a vague outline of the figure. He thinks about who, or what, it could have been but dismisses the thought rather quickly.

He has no time for a mysterious person with hair less perfect than his own, touching his untainted locks as he does.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you everyone for your interest in the series!! As per the request of some, I'll now be adding a taglist!

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, and @tiannamortis for asking to be tagged!!

[thealtoduck]

Eye for an Eye

Tim Drake x Riddler Sidekick!Male Reader

Batfamily x Riddler Sidekick!Male Reader (kinda..)

Warnings: Superhero stuff

Riddler Sidekick!Male Reader: Masterlist

Summary: You get another visit in Arkham…

——

The door to your cell was thrown open revealing one of the Arkham guards. You threw an annoyed glance towards him. ”What?” you questioned. ”You have another visitor” the guard said making you confused. ”It’s past visiting hours” you stated but the guard came up towards you and cuffed your hands anyway.

He then led you out of your room and through the hallways of Arkham but he didn’t lead you to the visiting rooms, he led you out of the inmate section and towards the staff section of the Asylum.

You however didn’t question it as you were curious to see where he would lead you. Then he stopped you outside the warden’s office belonging too ”Jeremiah Arkham”. The guard knocked and there came a muted ”Come in” from the inside.

The warden was sitting at his desk but he wasn’t alone, Batman and the Red Hood were also waiting for your arrival. Where was Tim? Had they not managed to save him. ”Welcome Clue, have a seat?” the Warden Arkham said. You did as told. ”You’ve already met our guests, Batman and the Red Hood” the Warden stated.

”I brought you here because they are in need of help as Riddler seems to have taken a hostage” he explained. ”I already helped them they were here this morning” you said. Batman then spoke up ”The Riddler wasn’t where you thought he’d be we need you to help us track him down”.

”I can’t do that from here” you stated. ”We know, we’re bringing you with us” Batman explained. You turned to the Warden and asked curiously ”Really? You agreed to it?”. ”Of course, we need to do whatever we can to rescue that poor hostage” the Warden said.

”And… what do i get for my help?” you questioned. ”Clue, i will personally look to have your sentence shortened” the Warden offered. You nodded and said ”Alright, i’m in” with a satisfied smirk.

——

You, Batman and the Red Hood made your way out of the Asylum. Your hands were still cuffed to make sure you wouldn’t try anything. The two vigilantes led you to the Batmobile. They opened the door to the back seat for you.

You sat down in it and looked around the inside of the infamous Batmobile. As the other two entered you found yourself saying ”This isn’t as cool as i thought it’d be”. ”What were you expecting?” Red Hood questioned already annoyed by your presence.

”I don’t know, just something more exciting…” you told them, they didn’t respond. The three of you sat in silence as Batman started driving, leaving Arkham behind. ”So what’s the plan? Where do we start?”.

Bruce let out a sigh and said ”We did manage to find Riddler or at least a message from him, he demanded you in exhange for Tim or else he’d kill him”. ”So you- YOU lied to the warden, you didn’t need my help, you needed me for a trade” you realised.

Their silence told you that you were right. ”Damn Bats, freeing a criminal, what would the comissioner say?” you teased. The Batmobile eventually stopped outside a telephone booth. Batman and Red Hood got out, Red Hood opened the door for you and you got out.

”What are we doing here? Eddie dosen’t have a lair here” you questioned. ”We know, you’re giving him a call” Batman said pointing at the phone booth. ”He wanted to make sure we actually got you out before he revealed the location” Batman explained and handed you 50 cents and a note with a phone number written down on it.

You entered the phone booth, Red Hood squeezed himself in behind you, creating an uncomfortable closeness. You gave him a wondering look and he said ”Just so you and Riddler won’t plan anything”. You rolled your eyes and stated ”You’re lucky i won’t punch you, i didn’t even let him Tim stand this close to me and we were dating”.

You fed the 50 cents in to the payphone and tapped the number on the buttons, you held the headset to your ear as it dialed. Soon enough someone picked up. ”Batman! Is that you?” Eddie questioned. ”Wrong” you told him. ”Clue!” he exclaimed excitedly.

”I take it Batman got my message, tell him this riddle for to find my location ”I stand tall in the water surrounded by boats of all sizes, what am i?” Eddie said giddily, you rolled your eyes at the Riddle and said ”Come on Eddie, that’s the best one you can come up with, see you at the docks”.

”No you little- Batman was supposed to figure it out, don’t make me regret-” Eddie tantrumed as you hung up the phone. You and Red Hood exited the phonebooth, you turned to Batman and said ”He’s at the docks”.

The three of you got in to the Batmobile and Batman started speeding towards the docks.

——

You found Tim and Riddler waiting for the three of you at the docks. Tim’s body was battered as he was tied to a chair, a bomb strapped to the chair as well. Eddie stood a couple of feet away at the edge of the dock holding the detonator to the bomb, behind him in the water was a speedboat captained by Query and Echo, waiting for the two of you to be able to make a quick getaway.

”Welcome” Eddie said loudly. ”Thank you, Batman and Red Hood for reuniting me with my dear Clue” he tanked them mockingly. ”So here’s how this is gonna play out, Clue is gonna come over to me, we’ll boat away and leave you to rescue Robin, okay?” Eddie demanded madly.

Batman answered with a ”Alright”. Red Hood gave you a little push and you walked forward. You came closer towards the middle where Tim was sat, seeing him like this hurt. You knew you were meant to walk past him and join the Riddler in freedom but you still cared about Tim no matter everything that had happened between you.

You stopped in front of him and got down on your knees, Tim looked at you with a small smile. ”Uhm, what’s happening?! Clue, what are you doing?!” Eddie questioned confused but you ignored him. ”Are you okay?” you asked Tim brushing some hair out of his slightly bruised and dirtied face.

”I’ve been better” he answered humorously. ”Y/n, i’m sorry, i should’ve listened to you when i found Riddler’s plans instead of accusing you” Tim apologised. You cupped his cheeks and placed a kiss on his lips.

”It’s in the past” you uttered to him and remembered something. ”Hey, you know we never got to see that movie after the night at the motel, maybe we could see that together?” you suggested making Tim chuckle and say ”It’s a date”.

You gave Tim another kiss and stood up. ”Gotta go, my boat is waiting, don’t blow up while i’m gone” you said and walked to the Riddler. ”You’ve got some explaining to do” Eddie stated suspiciously from what he had just witnessed.

”Shut up Eddie” you muttered. ”Oh, that’s nice, i rescue you from Arkham and all i get is attitude, not even a thanks!” he ranted as the two of you climbed on board the boat and sat down behind Query and Echo. The boat then sped off, you spared Tim, Batman and Red Hood a glance as they faded in to the distance.