#but like i'm still not sure it could be anything at this point

[kissyrafe]

sex with rafe but you're taunting him as a trick for him to get more aggressive w it

cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, teasing/taunting, jealousy sex, unprotected p in v sex, friends w/ benefits, mirror sex, i think i'm in love with over-the-counter sex, (not proofread!!!)

"i don't know what game you're tryna play right now-" rafe sounded pissed off as he dragged you by your arm into the bathroom. "but cut it out." he stared at you as you leaned against the marble counter, back pressing into the cold stone. he pierced through you with just a look, enough to make your knees weak.

"what game? i don't know what you're talking about." you smiled impishly, playing with the hem of your jean mini skirt. the truth was, you were oh so loving 'the game'. you saw how rafe stared at you the whole night as you flirted with another guy in the group. touching his arms and chest, leaning against him, everything. it was all to get a rise out of rafe, knowing he doesn't like it when you're around other guys; as if it mattered.

to clear it up, rafe and you are not together by any means. from the start of this "relationship", it was apparent that both of you were only looking to relieve yourselves sexually. there were to be no emotional connections. but still, you both can't help but feel slightly jealous when the other one is with someone else.

"cut the bullshit." rafe stepped closer to you, now peering down at your figure. "don't think i didn't see you basically throwing yourself at him." he scoffed, biting the inside of his cheek from frustration. rafe hated seeing you treat other guys the way he wanted only you to treat him. but obviously, he couldn't just come out and say it, that would mean you had something over him, which he hated even more; feeling weak.

"like i said," you adjusted yourself on the counter and stood on your toes, your mouth now leveled with rafe's ear, "i don't know what you're talking about," you whispered softly. rafe let out a small laugh, his voice velvety smooth. his large arms traveled to either side of you, making sure you went nowhere.

the tension and silence were so, very, hot. neither of you said anything as you stared into each other's eyes. this was a battle. swallowing the clump in your throat, you felt rafe's hand travel down under your skirt and to the plush skin of your thigh, inching closer to your core. "do you think he can satisfy you like i do?" he asked smugly, feeling the soaked fabric of your panties.

"oh rafe," you sigh, a smile creeping onto your face "i know he can make me feel so much better than you do."

"wanna make that bet?"

your weak hands gripped the edge of the counter as rafe pounded into you from behind. small moans escaped your mouth and filled the room, along with the sound of light skin slapping. "do you still think he fucks better than me?" rafe demanded, knowing the answer already. but what he forgot was that you can be more stubborn than him.

you nod your head, looking at rafe through the mirror as he frowns. "s-s'. much. b-better." you stutter out as you feel rafe going faster, your eyes shutting. he scoffed, sensing your bluff. his calloused hand came to your neck, squeezing around you tighter with every thrust into your sweet cunt.

"just admit it, y'know you want ta." he smirked, seeing how fucked out you were already. it never took long to make you release and succumb. rafe knew for a fact you'd never find anyone better than him, or at least anyone better at fucking you than him. maybe it was the way you would squirm as he entered you, or your sweet, delicate, moans and whimpers that flowed out your mouth like symphonies.

your walls wrapped around rafe's dick, lewd noises appearing with every push he made into you. at this point you could barely even hold yourself up. he made your whole body weak as you were fucked senseless by him.

it drove rafe mad how you successfully made him jealous, how you had a hold on him. i mean really, the kook king was jealous of some lowly guy who didn't know jack shit about you or the secret places on your body that would make you limp. he knew it was a mistake to just treat you like a fling because he wanted you to just be his.

"you can fuck, but you can't make a girl feel good," you choked out, knowing how to push his buttons. "is that so?" rafe merely took that as a sign to slow down his thrusts, but he only went in deeper. you could practically feel his cock bulging into your stomach from how far he went. your mouth hung open as you moaned, eyes swelling with tears from pleasure. you felt it to your core. "i'm the only one that can make this pussy feel good, yeah?"

you felt your orgasm build from rafe's low thrusts as he hurried his pace again, his orgasm approaching too. "r-rafe, i-i..." you fell incoherent and unable to form any real thoughts. "sweet thing is 'boutta cum all over m' cock," rafe was amused seeing you like this, so raw and flushed from pleasure. "c'mon, show me how this dick feels, tell me." with his hand still around your neck, he made you look at him again through the mirror. "d'ya see how you look? all 'cause of me?"

"c-cumming, rafe! pleaseplease!" you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came undone all over rafe's cock, much to his enjoyment. you felt his thrusts stutter as his seed poured into you, making your body surge with pleasure and warmth.

rafe slowly pulled out of you, making you feel so... empty. he turned you around to face him as he tried catching his breath. you looked at him with tired eyes when his hand went up to your face, holding one of your cheeks softly. "don't ever use a guy to make me fuck you again, or i won't go gentle. alright?"

[babyflorencee]

Clingy

Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Y/n was lying in her bed, the soft blankets draped over her like a warm embrace. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from the fabric softener, mixing with the cool, crisp hint of the evening breeze that slipped through the cracked window. Outside, the moonlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a silvery glow that bathed the room in a serene, dreamlike quality.

It had been a long day, and all she wanted was to relax and unwind. But the moment she closed her eyes, she felt the weight of someone climbing onto the bed next to her.

"Y/n," Harry whined as he slipped under the covers, his chilled fingers grazing her waist as he wrapped himself around her, resting his head on her chest. His body was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the blankets.

"Harry," she said gently, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "What’s going on?"

"I’m just so cold," he whined, burying his face deeper into her chest. "And I don’t want to be cold anymore."

"Baby, you’re always cold," she laughed softly, tightening her arms around him. The sound of the sheets rustling filled the room. "And you’re literally wrapped up in a blanket right now."

He sighed dramatically, tightening his grip around her. "But I’m still cold, Y/n. And you have to warm me up."

"Okay, okay, I’ll keep you warm," she said, her tone tinged with amusement as she pulled him closer. Harry nuzzled into her neck, his cheek soft against her skin, his lips making the cutest pout, as she caught a faint trace of his cologne.

"I don’t ever want to let go of you," Harry mumbled. "You’re so warm and comfy."

"Well, you don't have to," she whispered, pressing a kiss on the top of his head.

Harry hummed contentedly, but his grip didn’t relax. If anything, it only tightened as he pressed himself against her side even more, like he was trying to melt into her completely. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"Y/n…" he whispered, his voice filled with a soft desperation. "Please just hold me."

"I am holding you," she replied, squeezing him back, trying to comfort him.

"No," Harry whined, "I mean, really hold me."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Y/n assured him, pulling him closer, as her hands traced soothing patterns across his back. "Is this better?"

"Mhm."

"You're a big baby, you know that?"

"I’m not a baby," Harry argued, though his voice was muffled by the way his face was pressed into her hair. "I’m just very affectionate. That’s all."

"Uh-huh, sure," Y/n said with a teasing smile. "You’re just a little clingy, that’s all."

Harry tilted his head up to look at her, his eyes wide and innocent. "Clingy? Me?" he gasped dramatically. "How could you say such a thing?"

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you won’t let me breathe without you being attached to me?"

"Well," Harry said with a little grin, "I’m not going to let you breathe without me attached. I like being attached to you." He punctuated his sentence by wrapping his arms tighter around her, as if to prove a point that didn't really make sense.

"You’re impossible," Y/n chuckled, letting him pull her in tighter. She could feel his warmth against her, and despite the teasing, it felt nice to be this close to him.

"Stop it. I just want to be near you," he mumbled, his voice soft and a little drowsy now. "What if you go somewhere? What if you leave me?"

"Harry," she said gently, "I’m not going anywhere."

"But what if you do?" he whined again, his hand clutching her shirt like he was never going to let her go. "I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here. Forever."

Y/n’s heart melted at how vulnerable he was being. She brushed a strand of his messy hair away from his face before placing a kiss on his forehead. "I’m right here, Harry. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

He gave a satisfied sigh and rested his head against her chest, still clinging to her like she was his lifeline. "Okay," he said softly, "but if you ever try to leave, I’m going with you."

She laughed lightly, running her fingers through his hair. "I’m not going anywhere, so you can relax."

"But what if you go to the kitchen for a snack?" he asked with a pout. "What if you don’t come back?"

"Harry, I’m not going anywhere," she repeated, amused by his ridiculous worries. "You’re stuck with me, alright?"

He responded with a dramatic groan, still holding onto her as if his life depended on it. "Good. Because I want you all to myself, right here, forever."

Y/n smiled warmly, hugging him back. " I like having you all to myself, too."

A soft, contented hum escaped Harry as he snuggled even closer, pressing his cheek against her chest. "Good," he muttered, already half-asleep. "Because I’m never letting go."

Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she felt his grip around her tighten again, and she realized that despite his clinginess, she didn’t mind one bit. In fact, she kind of loved it.

"You’re ridiculous," she whispered, running a hand gently over his back. "But I’m glad you’re here."

"I’m glad I’m here too," Harry mumbled, his voice fading as he drifted off to sleep, still holding onto her like she was his favorite thing in the world.

And as Y/n lay there, listening to his soft breathing and feeling the warmth of his body against hers, she realized just how perfect these quiet moments were. Even if he was clingy, Harry was exactly where he needed to be—right beside her.

[tofics]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write something about dean reacting to you getting your 🍒's pierced or him even finding out that they have been. Totally totally okay if not LOVE your work 🫶

Eeeek, my first request ever!!! 🤩 For that alone I'm inclined to make this as perfect as possible, but due to post-holiday brain-rot I can make no promises about the actual quality of what I'm about to produce. 🙈 I immediately had two ideas when I read this, so you're getting both.

Version 1 is just funny, whereas version 2 has a slight bit of angst to it, still a funny ending though. Hope you enjoy! 🤗

Warnings: nipple piercings, bare titties, exposing your 🍒's in front of strangers (willingly), some bleeding, canon typical violence (monster death)

POV: Dean finds out you got your nips pierced.

Version 1 "Sam, don't! He could be the shapeshifter, for all we know!" Dean pulled his brother back by the jacket. "A - a what?" The man in front of you stammered, his eyes blown wide in fear. You quickly hushed him. "It's okay, just get in there!" You were convinced this guy wasn't the shapeshifter. You knew it in your gut, but you knew that explanation wouldn't fly with Dean.

The four of you quickly pressed into the small bathroom. Dean had his gun pointed at the guy's throat, who was nervously eyeing the weapon. "It's okay", you assured him in a hushed whisper. "We'll get you out of here. Just give him the spoon, Sam." You nodded at the younger Winchester, who in turn started prodding his jacket. One pocket, another, then a quiet curse.

"I must've dropped it!"

You glanced at Sam in disbelief. Dean grunted, though he didn't take his eyes off of the stranger.

"Now what?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't have anything else silver on me. Do you?"

"I got lots of silver bullets," Dean growled, still clearly convinced that the poor soul trapped in this bathroom with you was the monster you were looking for. The man yelped quietly.

"Not helpful, Dean," you hissed, but the hunter just grunted.

"You got any better ideas?"

Silence filled the air as all three of you pondered over your current predicament. Then a lightbulb went off in your brain.

"I do, actually."

With swift movements, you handed your gun over to Sam and then began pulling your sweater off.

"Uh - what are you doing?" Sam stared at you like you had lost your mind and even Dean was glancing over at you as you began peeling your top upwards.

"My nipple piercings are made of silver," you explained casually. Sam's eyes grew wide while a vein popped out on Dean's temple. The man you were trying to save looked like he was trying very hard to look anywhere but at you. "If Dean's bullets are the only other silver thing we got, then I don't see any other way than this. I'm not blowing some guy's brain out just to be on the safe side," you continued.

Your top went over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bra from the waist upwards. Sam's face had a funny color and Dean looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. His eyes briefly traveled down to your exposed cleavage, then quickly flicked back up to your face. "You can't be serious," Sam cut in.

"About my nipples being pierced or the piercings being silver?"

"About letting this guy touch you."

You brushed Sam's concern off with a tut. "Oh, hush. Don't be so prude. Now, go on," you said and undid the clasp of your bra with swift fingers.

Three loud inhales sounded as you revealed your boobs to the room. Sam's eyes immediately went towards the ceiling. The stranger briefly glanced at your tits with a pained expression before following suit with Sam, mumbling something about how surely, all of this just had to be a weird dream. Dean, however, took a good long look before a smile whisked across his lips.

"When'd you get this done?" He whispered with an appreciative tone.

"Couple of months ago," you replied, smiling back at him. "You like it?"

"Like it? Sweetheart, I-"

"Guys," Sam interrupted, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

"Right, right, sorry." You reached for the man's hand who jumped when your hand touched his. "Go on, dude. Just put a hand on it so we know you're good."

The guy made no move to do much of anything, so you gently lifted his hand to your chest until it made contact with one of your piercings. "Just a dream, just a dream," the man mumbled with his head still turned upwards and away from you. "Maybe I'm a shapeshifter too," Dean mumbled, his eyes on the man's hand pressed to your boob.

You grinned in reply. "See? He's good." The man's hand showed no signs of injury as you lifted it off of your chest again. "Now how about I get dressed again and we go find the actual son-of-a-bitch?"

Version 2 Sure, people warn against getting body alterations done under the influence of alcohol all the time. It's sort of an unwritten rule, the kind of common-sense one is just expected to have. But as booze tends to do, it prefers to link up with mischief instead. Common-sense is just so boring. Such a goody-two-shoes. The nay-sayer of all genius ideas. And clearly, that's what getting your nipples pierced is: a genius fucking idea.

At least so you thought last night while out and about with Jo. The two of you had teamed up in an effort to drink your shared sorrows away: you'd just come back from yet another hunt during which you'd felt belittled by Dean yet again, and Jo was in the midst of another heated fight with Elle about being allowed out for a hunt at all - again. Each dismissal had lit the fire of injustice within the both of you, and while your first few drinks were meant to quench the flames, they had the opposite effect, acting like fuel instead.

Soon, both you and Jo were slurring your respective rambles about your 'suppressors'.

"Just isn't fair." Jo slammed her fist down on the bar top, earning herself a quick glance from the bartender.

You shook your head woefully. "It isn't. They just don't see us. It's like we're invisible. Or babies. Invisible babies."

Jo pointed her finger at you. "Exactly! Invisible babies. But we're not! We're grown women, god dammit! Women! Would babies have boobs like that?" Her finger swayed from your face to your cleavage, followed diligently by the guy who sat two seats down from you. Your chin dropped to your chest as you glanced at your own boobs before meeting the eyes of the sleazy guy two seats over. A sluggish grin crawled over your lips. "Nice, aren't they?" A toothy grin appeared on the other patron's face. "Sure are, baby, sure are," he called back, causing you to look at Jo with triumph in your eyes. "See? He agrees too. No baby would have boobs like that."

Jo nodded, her head bobbing up and down in a wobbly fashion. "Cause he sees us. Not like my mom. Or Dean." She scowled, then downed another shot the bartender had dutifully lined up for you at your signal.

"We jus' gotta find a way to show 'em," you slurred. "Way to show how badass we are. Hmm." You nodded to yourself like you'd just said the most profound thing.

A moment of silence passed between you two girls before Jo's face suddenly lit up. "I got an idea."

As genius as it had seemed to you four shots in, the next morning, you weren't so sure anymore that piercing your nipples had been a genius move. It did look amazing (one glance in the mirror in the morning after waking up confused why your nips felt so damn sore had convinced you of that easily), but you still needed some convincing about the practicality of it as you got dressed and put on your clothes for the day. It proved as your first challenge: a bra was immediately out of the question after feeling how tight the material pressed against your sensitive and raw skin. You threw on a large, comfy t-shirt instead and paired it with an even larger sweater. Oversized clothes to the rescue.

As expected, your drinking spectacle of last night didn't go unnoticed by either of the boys. Sam's "Whoa, you look rough" got quickly followed up by a dry snort from Dean at the sight of you. "Jesus, you and Jo empty half a liquor store or something?" You only grumbled something unintelligible as a response while you fixed yourself some coffee from the small breakfast spread your motel offered.

While you nursed your coffee, Dean and Sam made a plan for the day. Their mission yesterday had been a bust - the empty factory had, in fact, not been the hiding place of the shapeshifter that the three of you were after, which left it still roaming about. You didn't partake in the planning process, partially due to your hangover, but mostly due to the fact that you were still hung up on your exclusion. For your own safety. Dean's reasoning had felt like a punch in the gut. Did he still not trust your abilities?

"Hey." You were pulled back to the present by fingers snapping in front of your face. "You with us?" Dean's eyes were searching your face as you zeroed back in on him. You grunt for a response had one of his brows raising, but he didn't comment on it, instead pulling you aside when the three of you headed out towards the parking lot.

"Are you okay?" You knew that look. Dean's scrutinizing gaze roamed over your face to look for the subtlest of clues. You'd made your protest heard loud and clear yesterday, and you read the subtext in his question with ease. Are we okay? You inhaled deeply as you stalled to answer. You were still upset with him, but you didn't have it in you to discuss his views on your involvement during hunts in your current state. Your head was pounding too much, and your nipples faintly felt like someone was holding a lighter to them. "Yeah. I'm okay," you responded with a sigh. Dean looked like he was about to object, clearly not buying your answer, but just then, Sam called out for the two of you.

Genius fucking idea. You gritted your teeth as you sprinted after the shapeshifter. Of course you'd end up in action the one day you didn't wear a bra. As if chasing supernatural beings wasn't challenging enough, you were now forced to awkwardly press your arms under your boobs for support as you ran down the damp alleyway. Because of your makeshift-bra, your gun was holstered between your hands right under your tits, aiming directly forward. It wasn't a safe way to run, nor a comfortable one, but you didn't have time to ponder either of those facts. The shapeshifter was getting away, and you couldn't let that happen.

You saw it turning a corner a couple hundred feet ahead of you and dashed after it, tits squeezed together in front of your chest like they were your main weapon and not your gun. The fabric of your shirt rubbed over your freshly pierced nips like sandpaper on wood and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself focused on the monster chase instead of the pain.

When you skid around the corner, you found the shapeshifter trapped between yourself and Dean on the other end of the back alley. It's head spun back and forth between you and him like a trapped animal and for a moment, it felt like time had frozen. Your eyes briefly flicked over to Dean, whose brows were furrowed in concentration and determination, and he shook his head at you ever so slightly.

The flush of anger inside your belly was hot and instant, yet before you had time to react, a loud shriek echoed through the alleyway and the shapeshifter launched itself your way.

It all happened so quickly that you acted more out of instinct than on rational thought. The kicks and blows to your body barely registered before a gunshot rang through the air and the monster's lifeless body dropped to the ground in front of you.

You stared at it, panting. The adrenaline coursing through your veins felt like fire being pumped through your body. It took you a second to register Dean's voice through the ringing in your ears.

"Hey. Hey. You okay? Are you hurt?" Hands were gripping you by the shoulders and you were spun sideways. You blinked a couple of times as Dean came into focus in front of you, concern etched into every fine line on his face. "Talk to me," he urged as his eyes feverishly scanned you up and down. You shook your head faintly, still dazed. "I'm fine." You'd taken down the shapeshifter yourself. You'd done it. You'd kicked ass.

A slow smile spread on your face as the realization set in. You had taken down a shapeshifter all by yourself. In front of Dean, no less. Now he had to see you.

"We got it, Sammy. Yeah. It's done. Uh-huh. No, she took it out." Dean glanced over at you as the two of you walked back to his car. You were still smiling smugly ear to ear. Dean looked like he'd been forced to eat a lemon whole.

"What d'you think? Of course not." He growled into the phone. You could imagine Sam's question without having heard it. You let her come? Dean had ordered you to stay in the car of course. But then you'd seen the shapeshifter run by. Who in their right mind would've stayed in their car at the sight?

"Uh-huh. Yeah. We'll meet you back at the motel." Dean hung up. Anger radiated off of him in quiet, shaky waves. Under any other circumstance, you would've been quaking in your boots right about now, wary of the storm that was about to come your way any second now. But not today. Today, you were flying high, fueled on by your win.

Dean settled into the driver's seat, but didn't start the car. Here we go, you thought. Speech incoming. Yet it didn't come. When you turned your head to look at him, you didn't find Dean staring you down, but frowning at your chest instead.

"You're bleeding."

Your own forehead crinkled up as you looked down on yourself. Two deep red spots were starting to bloom on your chest, right where... Crap.

You quickly slung an arm over your chest, covering up the two spots. "I, uh. It's fine." Though it felt anything but. You hadn't noticed it in the moment, but the monster had apparently struck you in the chest, right across your boobs. Your fresh piercings had seemingly not appreciated that move in the least. Now that you had been made aware of it, your nipples felt like they were on fire, pain striking through each boob like a spasm.

Dean's jaw tensed. In one swift move, he leaned in and plucked your arm from your chest, exposing the bloody spots on your sweater that were slowly growing in size. You could see his frown deepening as he examined your injuries. Warmth crept up your neck and into your cheeks.

"It's not fine. What did he do? I can't see puncture wounds. Why are you bleeding?"

Whatever triumph you had felt just a moment ago had ebbed away and was now being replaced by the icky sticky feeling of shame. You turned your head so he wouldn't see the embarrassment coloring you the same color as the spots on your sweater, but Dean spoke your name in a soft, yet stern voice.

You knew he wouldn't let this go.

You sighed deeply. "I got my nipples pierced." Your voice was barely above a murmur. Heat blazed from your cheeks and pain throbbed in your wounded nips.

For the first time ever since meeting Dean Winchester, he did not hit you with a quick comeback. The lack of a snarky reply was so jarring that you looked back at him, despite the embarrassment shining bright in your cheeks like Rudolph's nose.

Dean's face seemed to be frozen in a state somewhere between surprise and amusement. You stared at him for a moment before scoffing. "Just get it out." His eyes flickered from the bloody spots on your torso to your eyes and back, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Get what out?"

"The comments. Whatever you're dying to say. I know you've got some stupid shit already cooking in that brain of yours," you scoffed, and as if on cue, mischief glinted in his eyes.

"Actually," Dean started and flung a casual arm across your seat. "I think it's kind of hot."

The lack of reprimand caught you off guard so much that you could only stare at him.

"But I am gonna need details. Was it Jo's idea? Or yours?" Dean flashed a widespread grin at you and started the car. He was clearly enjoying himself.

You could only roll your eyes and groan.

"You know, I'll have to check when we're back. See how injured you are. Patch you up," he continued, the grin now stretching so wide that it almost went from ear to ear.

"Not a chance, Winchester."

Dean only snickered in return.

Divider credit: @saradika-graphics

[psychemochanight]

This may sound bad, but there's something I've noticed that bothers some of Nightwing fans, and it's not exactly something new (since Jason's first appearance, actually)-

And for many, as a new batfamily member appears, the writers seem to take away or diminish some quality in Dick to enhance it in another character

Let me explain:

One of the reasons why many people initially disliked Jason (not the only reason, by far), is that they saw him as a copy of Dick, even if they both had their differences, many did not feel that Jason had anything "special" that separated him from Dick.

And for those who say the difference is that Jason was cheerful and Dick wasn't, no, that's a modern thing, and that interpretation was given especially because it was the time when Dick was more "angry" as Discowing; same with those who say that Jason was the only model student, when in fact, Dick was also a star student, there is even a panel where some students dismiss the possibility that he is Robin because Dick was a "bookworm".

That's partly why many applauded the change he made in becoming Red Hood, because it gave the character something that set him apart, that made him unique.

With Tim is when this change that they make to Dick (more the fandom than the writers themselves, but it is growing in them too) was most noticeable, to enhance Tim's qualities.

When talking about Tim (and God knows how much I adore canon Tim, he's so damn cool), people ALWAYS downplay Richard's detective skills to highlight Tim's. To make him look like the only good detective in the family after Batman.

People forget that Dick was originally like a mini-copy of Batman, but he was destined to surpass him. Not just in combat, but in detective skills as well. Before they even thought about a new Robin, there were already hints that Dick was, and would be, better than Batman.

Even with the appearance of other family members, Dick's abilities were still pointed out. I'm not talking about his physical agility, but his mental agility.

Dick was a genius, just like the other members of the family, he was ALWAYS pointed out as someone so intelligent, someone logical. He also has extraordinary skills with technology, He didn't need someone to back him up with hacking issues 24/7, he could do it himself, not always, but most of the time.

Now, what they point out the most is his physical agility and leadership (characteristics that he always had), but they leave aside his other aspects, such as combat ability and above all, his capabilities as a detective, like someone intelligent.

Some even bring up that Ra's called Tim "detective", when in reality he also called Dick that, and I'm pretty sure he also called Jason that at some point.

I want to clarify, that with this I am NOT saying that Tim's skills are inferior, AT ALL. I am one of those who think that Tim was the one who finished polishing Robin's name, the one that gave it a meaning beyond being Batman's sidekick, the one who turned Robin into his own hero. Tim is probably a prodigious detective, but like Dick, he too needed help honing those skills. Damn, it was Dick himself who taught Tim how to be a full-fledged detective.

But seriously, I'm not saying this to put Tim down, but to talk about the need to put Dick down in order to elevate others.

Even with Cass this happened, Cass fans throw away Dick's abilities to bring out Cass's when that is not necessary, like, It is more than possible to highlight the qualities of your favorite characters without putting down the others.

There were even times where people were putting Dick down for Damian, and I honestly didn't even understand why, but aha.

I think you're getting my point across, right?

Again, I am NOT trying to say that ANY character's skills should be nerfed, on the contrary, I feel like people should stop doing that just to level up other characters' abilities.

The fact that Dick is also a prodigious detective does not make Tim any less of a detective ? The fact that he also knows how to handle technology does not make Barbara any less competent at her job ? Just because he's an excellent fighter doesn't make Cass the weakest ???? God, just because he was a light in Batman's life too doesn't make Jason any less of his son!

Partly yes, it was the writers' fault for giving Dick too many abilities from the start, which made it harder for later characters to stand out in their own fields, but, fr, taking away his abilities to getting up the rest is not the solution at this point either.

And as I said, this mostly comes from before there were even other members of the batfamily, Dick's only purpose was to be better than Batman, it wasn't even the plan to be his own person yet. Probably for a while, the plan could even be that the next Batkid would accompany Dick as the next great detective, and then the next batkid would take the mantle and so on, a chain. I'm not saying that's the case, but that's honestly what it seems like from the way their abilities are written, at least before they started really developing them as their own individual person.

Something I love about part of the fandom is that there are people who understand that Dick was an inspiration, so that his younger siblings did not inhibit his abilities, but rather learned from him, and then surpassed him with their owns, just as Dick did with Batman. Idk.

And... Yeah, that's just me complaining about my favorite character being downgraded when he's clearly way more capable than the fandom gives him credit for <3

This is me btw

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! 😊

I have a character with albinism in my story and I need help figuring out what to do about her photophobia. The setting is a medieval fantasy world and the character is a dragon.

The problem I'm having is that she's huge. She's probably around the size of a blue whale.

I was going to give her sunglasses, but they would be absolutely massive and extremely heavy, and I feel like the weight of the frame pressing down on her skin all day would probably be extremely uncomfortable or even cause skin damage. Also, the glasses would probably be really thick and I'm not sure if she would even be able to see through that much tinted glass?

I thought about a hat, but I'm not sure what it would be made out of. I feel like any sort of fabric at that size would just crumple under its own weight. I could have supports inside of it, but that would probably make it really heavy which wouldn't be good for her neck.

The only other thing I can think of is some sort of semi-transparent fabric veil that she can tie around her head that covers her eyes, but I know that trope is kind of iffy. Although I'm not sure if it would count since she's not legally blind (her vision is around 20/100. I think. Would vision measurments still work the same for someone with giant eyeballs? 🤔)

Is there anything else I can give her to protect her eyes that won't hurt her?

If it makes a difference there are two blind characters in the story who do not wear glasses of any kind, and another character with albinism who wears sunglasses and a hat.

Hello!

I believe I'm the only active mod with photophobia so I'll try answering, but keep in mind I'm neither blind nor do I have albinism.

So photophobia is a spectrum, right - it's really wide. On one end you have people who can't open their eyes because of the pain unless they're in a completely blacked-out room and on the other are people who kinda just push through it and don't bother with anything. There's a huge variety in severity. I was on both of these (plus everything in-between, plus non-photophobic at one point too) so I'll try to give you some ideas.

If she's on the first end, then well - close the eyes, and hopefully she has a sighted guide. Sunglasses don't help here anyway (source: experience) unless she'd have to wear them while closing her eyes because the tiny amount of light showing through a person's eyelids can still be painful (source: experience). A hat or a veil here would be like putting a bandage on someone who blew up. If she's permanently like this, she's functionally totally blind (but with some stereotypes that don't really represent all totally blind people - most of them don't keep their eyes closed 24/7).

If she's on the second end then I already kinda answered your question; Nothing is sometimes a solution. Same how not everyone with knee pain uses a cane, even if it technically could be of some benefit - too much hassle.

Now for the hard part: everything in-between these two. Since your character is somewhat logistically complicated due to both being a dragon and of that size, I'll try to think of the accommodations one can do with their body rather than external aids.

Squinting is a legitimate strategy. Is it great, not really. But it does work for a lot of people. You can squint your way through a lot.

Hand (claw?) to shield against the sun, same as above. Most people (IDK about dragons) don't sit around in bright sun all day, if you quickly have to go through an area like this you can just cover it.

Brow ridge (no idea what is the dragon equivalent) is a sort of built-in sun protection on its own to be honest. It's definitely not 100% for obvious reasons, but it does help against the brightest light sources. However, with her being a dragon this could be a legitimately successful solution - both Eastern Asian and European dragons tend to be portrayed with protruding parts above their eyes. Normally I'd say that it would be a bit of a cop-out, but as you say there is another character with the same disability, so I'm not worried here.

Last solution would be some sort of contacts. Obviously they didn't exist in medieval times, but there's a dragon there already so it's fine to get creative - could shed scales be thinned down and used as a block-out contact? Maybe some sort of mineral? Or leaves from a comically big tree? All of these would definitely hurt a human but again, dragon anatomy and how tough their eyes are is free to speculate about until something very unexpected happens.

Now for the rest;

Consider her lifestyle and where she physically lives. Is there a lot of sun there? Does she go outside during the day? Does she prefer winter over summer because she can go out more (and/or with less pain)? Not all photophobiacs will have the same kind of lifestyle and will thus need different accommodations; keep that in mind.

Hope this helps! Good luck writing disabled dragons

mod Sasza

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐱

✩ : just a (not so) chill post-christmas competition with your boyfriend

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : oscar piastri

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff, mature

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,3k

✍︎ : couldn’t stop thinking about that one mclaren video so i just wrote it down.

last one-shot of the christmas series! i'm sorry it was so short but i've been super busy with my family and relatives, so this is all i could give you guys (for the same reason, i don't have anything ready for new year's either...)

anyways, i hope you enjoyed it and had an amazing time with your loved ones too 🩷

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the torn wrapping paper scattered across the living room, untouched since you left it there the day before, warming the room as you passed by. When you walked into the kitchen, lazily stretching your arms over your head with a loud yawn, you were welcomed with a rather unique sight.

Oscar, hair ruffled and still in his pajamas, was quietly humming to a Christmas song coming from Alexa, so focused on whatever he was doing that he didn’t even look up when you made your entrance. You bit back the smirk tugging at your lips: he was far too cute like that, all festive and productive, to take it personally.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice still rough and low as he flashed you a sleepy grin; so he had seen you.

“Morning,” you replied, reaching out to peck him gently on the cheek, the way his arm immediately sneaked around your waist making you smile against his skin.

“So,” you pulled back and turned towards the counter behind you, “what’s all this?”

To be fair, now that you looked at them, the chaotic selection of candies, including gummy bears, M&Ms and marshmallows, and the two icing bags lying beside them spoke for themselves, making the answer pretty obvious.

Therefore, you weren’t really surprised when Oscar answered: “We’re making gingerbread houses.”

“And you decided to do this now of all times because…?”

“It’s my revenge for how you played yesterday,” he stated, hands firmly placed on his hips as he eyed you with a knowing glance, though he looked like he was trying his best not to laugh.

You clutched at your chest, mouth hung open in an outraged and mockingly shocked expression. “Excuse me, you mean how I clearly destroyed you at Monopoly?” Your tone was now teasing as an amused smirk played on your lips.

“No, I mean how you destroyed the board when you yeeted it across the room halfway through.”

“It was a strategic retreat,” you waved a hand in the air, absently shrugging off his accusation before grabbing one of the decorating bags and pointing it at his chest. “Ready to lose again?”

“First of all, let’s put this down,” he said while guiding your hands down on the kitchen island with his own. “The icing should go on the houses, not us.”

“Wow, zero faith in me,” you shot back, your unimpressed tone dripping with sarcasm as if being babied by Oscar didn’t affect you in the least—although it, in fact, affected you a lot. “Besides, I know how these things work. How hard can it be?”

“Famous last words,” he sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin as he finally let go of you.

“Alright,” you ignored him, bubbling over with the same excitement of a child on Christmas morning. “Rules are simple: best gingerbread house wins. No cheating, no crying when you lose.”

“Why are you the one making the rules? I’m pretty sure this was my idea.” He quirked a brow, the playful glint in his eyes matching the now full-blown smile on his face.

“Gingerbread house competition rules are universally known,” you stated matter-of-factly. “So, should I get tissues for you now or later?”

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a warning look before shaking his head, laughing at himself in disbelief as he, too, prepared for your little battle.

It took exactly ten minutes for things to start going sideways.

“Oscar!” Your voice echoed through the room once again, a laugh unwillingly breaking through the annoyance in it. “Stop eating all my decorations!” you scolded him, every word a slap on his arm.

“I’m quality testing,” he explained, mouth full of your candies as he popped yet another one in it.

“You’re sabotaging.” You snatched the package from his hands, sticking out your tongue at his disappointed face.

“Uncalled for,” he muttered under his breath, to which you quickly responded with a sharp ‘Deserved,’ before you both focused back on your work, the kitchen falling into a comfortable silence.

Until.

“Stop staring at me,” you said, not looking up from the counter after you felt his gaze linger on you for the hundredth time.

“I’m not staring.” The amusement in his tone immediately gave him away.

“You so are,” you chuckled, stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye. “What?” you then asked, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink when you found him already looking at you, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

He nodded toward your house. “Your wall’s sliding.”

“Mother–” You cursed between your teeth, scrambling to fix it, your fingers sticky with icing as you pressed it back into place.

That’s when you felt it—him.

“What are you doing?” you basically hissed, tensing up as he stepped right behind you, his arms sliding onto the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He just stood still for a moment, his chest warm against your back and his breath hot on your neck as he hovered over you, every nerve in your body suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

“Helping.” His tone was casual, innocent even, but the way it immediately dropped as he took your smaller hands in his made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I don’t need help,” you replied sharply—and yet you didn’t pull back, your skin tingling under his touch.

“Mhm,” he hummed in your ear, mock obvious in his voice.

You tried to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at that simple sound, keeping your eyes stubbornly fixed on the gingerbread house in front of you as you mumbled a weak ‘I’ve got it’ you didn’t even believe yourself.

“Sure you do.” Oscar didn’t miss a beat, his mouth ghosting over your cheek as he spoke, the last bits of self-control you had left finally leaving your body.

Since you didn’t have any smart remark to make this time—not a single thought was actually going through your head—he just kept going, only worsening your already desperate situation.

“You’ve got a little…” His whisper trailed off as he brought a hand up to your flushed face, gently taking your chin between his fingers and turning your head toward him, his thumb moving to brush away a dribble of icing that had ended up on the corner of your mouth.

“Oscar–”

“Hold still,” he murmured, “I missed a spot.”

Your breath caught in your throat when he leaned in, his lips burning on your skin as he darted his tongue out and swiped it over the dirty spot in a lingering kitty lick. But it was when he traced the line of your bottom lip with it that you gave in, an unintentional sigh escaping your mouth as you faced him completely.

Your hands moved in sync, yours sliding under his shirt and trailing to his back, nails scratching their way up, while his left your jaw to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter, sending half of the items on it tumbling to the floor. Needless to say, neither of you cared about the mess.

His fingers moved down to your thighs, digging into the plush skin there and forcing them apart so that he could sneak between your knees, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him flush against you, the sudden contact making your back arch as he grunted softly.

Oscar’s mouth left yours for a moment, only to start attacking your neck right after, your head tilting back to give him a better access as he nipped at the sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

A mischievous smile stretched on his lips as he licked clean a sprinkle of powdered sugar you hadn’t even noticed, mumbling ‘Sweet’ at the taste of it.

“Was this your plan all along?” You let out a breathless laugh in between your gasps, skin on fire under his every little touch.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. His kisses did all the talking.

-----------------••✩🎅🏻❄️🎄✩••----------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[mybl--dyvalentine]

luther જ⁀➴ Soobin

✮ lovestruck soobin x non idol male reader

✮ Summary: Soobin is obsessed with you and anything you do severely affects him!

✮ Genre: Fluff

✮ Word Count: 583

"Thank you guys for coming!" Soobin and the other members say to their fans while waving.

You wave back from the crowd, trying to get Soobin's attention but ultimately failing due to you being pushed back by fans determined to get his attention as well. You took this as a sign to just lay back and stay away from the crowd to avoid getting injured. While making your way to the exit, Soobin was scanning the faces of those in the front looking for you. His eyes moved from face to face frantically.

"Where is Y/n..?" He thought to himself.

By then, you've already made it to the exit of the venue. You pull out your phone and text him, "I'll see you at home, you did great by the way." While looking up at the sky, you wonder if you forgot anything. After coming to the conclusion that you didn't, you got into your car and drove off towards home.

---

The cue to say their final goodbyes echoed in Soobin's ears.

"This was Tomorrow x Together! Thank you guys so much!" They all say as they walk backstage.

Soobin instantly runs to his bag so he can check his phone for any notifications. He immediately reads your text message, and his face drops.

"Soobin, what's wrong?" Yeonjun asks him, noticing the change in his face.

"It's Y/n," Soobin responds. "He didn't call me love."

Multiple groans came out of each of the members. Soobin usually overreacts whenever you forget to call him by one of his names or tell him that you loved him all the time.

"Seriously? This happened before, and it was just a misunderstanding. I'm sure you're overthinking this and your boyfriend isn't trying to break up," Taehyun says while rolling his eyes.

Soobin was still worried that you'd break up with him, so he made his way home as fast as he could.

---

The lock on your front door wiggled a bit before finally letting the door open. Frantic footsteps made their way to your closed bedroom door, and a soft knock followed shortly after.

"Y/n..?" Soobin says.

"Yes?" You say back.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

The door slowly opened, as if to not disturb you and your silence. You see Soobin inch forward with his head low.

He breaks the silence and says, "If I did anything to make you mad, I'm sorry."

"You didn't! What made you think that?" You say.

"I didn't see you at the concert and you didn't call me love.." He says, with his eyes still fixated on the floor.

You couldn't help but laugh. Him seeming troubled over something that could break you two apart, but in reality it was just a trivial thing was funny.

"Wh-what? Is there nothing wrong??"

"No, fortunately there isn't. I just forgot to add that in my text."

Soobin falls onto your bed and into your embrace, his face nuzzled into your chest.

"I'm glad." His words muffled.

As you both drifted off into a slumber, you took a piece of his hair and started playing with it. His breathing slowed and his grip lessened as time passed by. At some points, his grip would tighten like he was afraid that you would leave him.

You whisper, "If it were up to me, I would take away all your pain and give you everything you'd ever want. Including not leaving you. Ever."

It seemed like he heard you since he smiled in his sleep.

[howi99]

Project ARC remake 20

Qrow: *rolling his eyes* This is getting ridiculous, Ozpin. Glynda is a complete mess and Jaune regressed mentally to a 10 year old?

Ozpin: *sigh* From what i understood, speaking with him, it's less that he has the mental faculties of a 10 year old and more that he has the memories of one. He's also slowly getting his memory from Beacon back, so he should be able to reintegrate-

Qrow: Oz! *Slamming his hand on the table* We both know he can't go back soon. *Looking pissed* The kid is having phantom pains from- *shaking his head* urgh, just thinking about it makes me sick.

Ozpin: *sigh* So you want me to go against Glynda's wish and warn Atlas that we found him?

Qrow: ... Can't believe myself for saying that, but yes. *Drink from his flask* It's either that, or the kid might remember something he really shouldn't.

___________________________________________

Glynda: *looking at her little brother with pain in her heart* Jaune...

Jaune: *wearing an eye patch* W-well, the pain disappears when i'm blocking my vision. So with that, i should be fine, ok? *Smile* You don't need to worry too much about me, right?

Glynda: ...

Jaune: *scratching the back of his neck* Look, i won't be long. I'm just gonna get some eggs and prepare some Vale toast.

Glynda: *panicking* J-Jaune, wait i-

Jaune: *putting his hand on her shoulder* Sis, you can't be with me all the time. *Calming smile* I won't disappear or anything. Just... Sit and relax. Think of today as a vacation day, ok?

Glynda: ... *Looking at the ground* Ok...

Jaune: *nod* Good. I'll be back in a jiffy! *Leave*

Glynda: *closing her eyes* It's gonna be fine, he's gonna be fine...

___________________________________________

Cinder: Tsk, nothing to eat. *Closing the fridge door, taking a look at the rest of the little studio she took for herself with a sigh* At least, i'm not living with that psychopath... And it's comfier than Evernight. *As she said those words, her stomach grumbled* Urgh, fine, i'll go buy something to eat. *She puts casual clothes on herself before leaving the apartment*

___________________________________________

Cinder: *panicking, as the man who fought her in Mistral is now smiling at her with a dumb look* I-i-i-i-

Jaune: *looking apologetically at her* Sorry to have startled you, but could you take a step to the left? *Point behind her* i'm trying to get some milk and-

Cinder: *trying to protect herself from what she is assuming is going to be round two of her getting almost killed* I-i know how to defend myself and-

Jaune: *perplexed* What? *Realising he's completely in her personal space* O-oh, sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you! *Sheepish laugh* I lost a lot of memories and i keep forgetting i'm not just a kid anymore.

Cinder: *blinking* U-uh!?

Jaune: So uh... *Point, again, behind her* Can i get the milk?

Cinder: ... *Shaking her head, stepping aside* You can take it! I-i don't need it.

Jaune: *smile* Thank you.

Cinder: *still completely terrified* S-sure, no problem!

___________________________________________

Cashier: Sorry, but your credit card was declined.

Cinder: *slumping* But i only took some bread...

Jaune: *who just finished packing up his food* Would you like to eat with me and my sister?

Cinder: *startled* WHAH! S-STOP APPEARING FROM NOWHERE!

Jaune: *wince* S-sorry, i just wanted to make up for the fright i caused you...

Cinder: *looking at the loaf of bread in her hand then at the mountain of food Jaune is bringing back to "his" apartment* I... *Her hunger won over her fear* Fine. B-but just a quick bite.

Jaune: *smiling* Of course!

___________________________________________

Cinder: *sitting at the table of the second in command of Ozpin and the thing that tried to kill her* ...

Glynda: *sigh* Jaune, you really should stop trying to help everyone you see. It's a bad habit.

Jaune: *who just finished making breakfast* But you always told me to be the best i can be. Isn't helping those who can't feed themselves a part of being the best i can?

Glynda: *wince* I-i know i said that, b-but people can be dangerous and i don't want you to get hurt.

Cinder: ... *Internally screaming* I-i d-didn't know she was y-your s-s-sister.

Glynda : *Eyes widening* J-Jaune!? I told you to keep people from knowing!

Jaune: *wince* I totally forgot, my bad... *Placing the "French" toast on the table, along with bacon and eggs* Can you forgive me with a little bit of bribery?

Glynda: ... *Sigh with a smile* Sure, you may buy your way out of it... For now.

Cinder: *stomach growling at the sight of the food* ...

Jaune: *smiling at the (unknown) criminal* You can pick what you want, i don't eat much anyway.

___________________________________________

Cinder: *now back at her apartment* ... *Looking at the nicely packed food Jaune gave to her* ... *Then thinking back on the "conversation" she had with Tyrian two days ago* ... That's so unfair...

[Now, for everyone that thinks Cinder is out of character, remember that A) she doesn't have any power from the maiden, so her confidence is actually low and B) she stole a part of Jaune's soul in their fight. Basically the soul of an angel which is slowly but noticeably having an impact on her own.]

[scatteredpiecesofme]

Favourite background character - or, justice for Alexander!

Since I was a bit disappointed by how Alexander's character was treated in S3, I decided to celebrate him as my favourite background character for the YRFavesFest2024. He deserves some love!!

"... anyone here who has been bullied, hit, beaten up?"

I'll start with this scene from 03.02, which I think is filmed and edited very cleverly.

At first the focus is on Vincent who's giving his little speech, while Alex is in the background and a bit blurred, but we can still detect him making big side eyes at Vincent. And how could he not? He, of all people, knows very well that bullying is a real thing at Hillerska.

At this point, before Vincent even finishes his sentence, the camera cuts on Alex - who now is on focus and at the centre of the frame - right on the words 'hit, beaten up':

I'm not reading this as a suggestion that Alex has ever been physically beaten up, but his posture and his eyes towards the floor perfectly convey the image of someone who feels beaten, if only emotionally.

And then Henry chimes in:

Henry is naively incredulous, but his comment must sound dismissive to Alex, who raises his eloquent eyes up again: sure as hell, he does not think that the story is overblown at all. No matter if the tradition of the porn/homophobic initiations was stopped and present day students don't go through it anymore, Alex understands that it's something totally believable.

It's just a quick sequence and Alex is clearly not meant to be the main focus of this scene as a whole, but his presence in the background and Xiao excellent ability to speak without words add further layers to the scene itself and make it even more meaningful.

Yay, some happiness!

Thank god, even though the creators didn't give Alex any line in S3, they at least let him have some happy moments. It's a joy to see him so cheerful and carefree during the camping trip! Look at him!

The trio

My last point, which is also my favourite among the glimpses we get of Alex in S3, is about the trio Alex-Henry-Walter. Throughout the season, in fact, Alexander, is often spotted in close proximity to either Henry or Walter or both:

In particular, I absolutely adore this shot:

The lighting and the colours are gorgeous, but most of all I love the glance Henry and Alex exchange while they're trying hard not to burst into laughters (it's the moment when August is gulping down a big glass of wine). I like that despite being on duty, once again at the service of the third years, Alex Henry and Walter seem to have fun, relaxed and giggly.

The icing on the cake, for me, is of course the white party! Alexander looks fabulous with that sparkly purple eyeshadow (or whatever it is) and the trio is all ready to enjoy the craziest night.

Alas, the show doesn't let us know anything about the nature of their relationship. Or maybe it's a good thing, as it allows the audience the most freedom of interpretation. Is it camaraderie among fellow students? Is it authentic and sincere friendship? Something more?? What do we think? As in the fandom there's already an established little group of passionate Walty shippers (looking at you, friend, hehe), I wonder if anyone ships them as a throuple? Queerplatonic, maybe? Come on rarepair enjoyers, don't be shy!

Personally, I read them as just friends (both Walty and Walty+Alex), and I like to imagine the three of them cherishing this friendship formed during their school years, cultivating it into their adult life and living many future adventures as a trio, but any headcanon is valid and welcome. No matter what configuration, shape or form it might take, I just hope for Alexander to find someone who makes him feel respected and loved. We all deserve that, in fiction and in real life.

I'm closing this post with this beautiful, intense and emotional close-up from episode six:

Big thanks to @youngroyals-events for planning and hosting this event!

[greetingfromthedead]

🔞 Unwrapping (Trigun x Reader)

ft Vash, Wolfwood, & Knives

Author's Note: I've got you one more present to wrap things up for this year (pun intended). Let us send 2024 off and start 2025 with a BANG! Inspired by this ask, I've just not been able to get a certain something off my mind...

Below you will find 3 smutty oneshots, each with some light bondage and varying dynamics! I tried to keep them brief, but I've never been good at it so here you go! On the menu today we have:

Vash x GN!Reader (1.3k words) Wolfwood x F!Reader (1.3k words) Knives x GN!Reader (1.2k words)

ATTENTION!: Don't question how the boys find themselves in these situations! It is all fine! It is consensual and everyone is enjoying themselves!

↓↓ UNWRAP YOUR PRESENTS ↓↓

VASH x GN!Reader (1.3k)

Vash looks more flustered than ever. You really can't recall a point when he looked so red. Perhaps the time he accidentally blurted out he was in love with you? No, not even close. Currently the bright red blush covers his entire face, extending down to his chest and making his ears almost glow. He is nearly as red as the ribbon tying him up. The silken cloth crisscrosses his scarred skin and augmentations. He looks embarrassed and shy as he averts his eyes from you, unable to meet your gaze. His arms are bound behind his head, and the wide satin strap spirals around him until it reaches his crotch, where it continues to wrap around one of his legs. A second ribbon wraps around his other thigh, ensnaring his cock and balls in a tight, restrictive embrace, only a bulging outline against his leg. A bow ties the two ends of the cloth together at his hip.

"Um… Mayfly?" He stammers, "Could you release me?"

"Unwrap my gift? Sure!" You smile, and his gaze finally meets yours.

"I know that look!" His eyes widen slightly. "That's the naughty look!"

"What makes you think that?" You continue to tease him while shifting closer.

"I'm all for it! I just can't do much like this," he replies, somehow blushing even deeper.

"Who said you need to do anything? I can't let an opportunity like this slip away!" You speak to him softly while looming over him.

Vash is a man of service. He is always happy to take the lead. He puts your needs above his own, doing whatever is necessary to bring you to completion, often neglecting his own joy. He says your pleasure is his. He gets a kick out of making you squirm in delight. Well, not this time. Now it is your turn, even if he has to be tied up for that.

You lean closer, leaving kisses on the skin peeking out between the ribbons. You kiss up along his stomach, to his chest and neck. You leave burning kisses everywhere your lips can reach, delighted by the soft sighs escaping Vash. Your hands stroke his rough skin tenderly, your legs entangling with his.

His lips respond to yours eagerly once you meet them. He tries his best to lean closer, but like this it is easy to keep him on his back, tied up and helpless. But he seems content, especially when he sees the happy expression on your face. He is letting you have your moment. You see his muscles flexing and rippling with each breath and shift as you push yourself up, one hand still resting on his belly. His eyes are so gentle and loving as he watches you; it almost makes you give up on your intentions and just cuddle him instead, but you snap back and adjust on the bed, determined to stick to your plan.

You take your place between his legs, kneeling and drawing closer until his legs are over your hips, a position where you often find yourself in, just with the roles reversed. Vash has to strain a bit to look at you since he has no pillow to support his head, but you count on him soon rolling his head back instead.

With a tender touch, you stroke along his skin, from his thighs to his abs, down his sides and butt. Your fingers are feather light, tingling his skin wherever they go. The touch is so gentle that he stirs only slightly, a soft sound escaping his lips. The blush slowly retreats as he relaxes, and the sight of him makes you feel butterflies. You keep teasing his skin; your warm touch is comforting, rising more and more feelings of desire.

You make a show out of slowly pulling the loose end of the bow on his hip until it unravels. A new blush appears on him again, and you feel the heat radiating from his body as you slowly start to unwrap the wide ribbon from around his thigh and cock. One revelation after another, you reveal more and more of his skin, his hard shaft coming into view, and you take every opportunity to gently tease him. The last rounds of the ribbon loosen themselves as his dick springs free, standing tall and proud in front of you. It twitches slightly with anticipation.

Vash looks more up, and you see the redness spreading over him again as he hides his face with a small whimper. You can tell he's embarrassed, but also incredibly turned on. Perhaps he is so embarrassed exactly because he is so turned on by your tantalizing touch, and he can't hide it behind his usual mannerisms of taking charge of the intimate situation. His cock rests on his stomach, darker than the rest of him; impressions of the ribbon still remain where it was bound.

The ribbon slithers off the edge of the bed where you throw it before you lick your palm, collecting enough spit on it to glide over his skin. You start from the base, putting gentle pressure on him until you reach the tip. He still avoids looking at you as you wrap your fingers around him, pulling downward in a smooth motion. Your movements are slow and calm, even when you add your other hand into the mix, stroking the smooth skin of his tip, fingers caressing the sensitive area just beneath. His breath hitches, and his eyes flutter closed, lost in the sensations you're causing.

It doesn't take long for him to forget his shyness; he simply melts under your touch, completely surrendering to the pleasure. Your own delight comes from watching him unravel before you. One of your hands moves up and down in a twisting motion along his shaft while the other teases his sensitive tip. The sounds of his pleasure fill the room, from whimpers to moans and empty breaths. You explore every bit of his arousal. With each movement, you feel his body respond eagerly, his back arches, and occasionally he bucks with his hips. Vash's shoulders start to shift, and his upper body twists, struggling against the restraints as you keep him on the verge, edging him to the point of desperation.

Your name rolls off his lips like prayer as he begs for release. His body is tight, arching in response to your touch. Restrained groans and whimpers escape him as finally he reaches the peak of pleasure and releases with a shudder. His muscles tense and relax as he rides the waves of ecstasy, his eyes closed in bliss. You continue to stroke him, guiding him through the climax. A glob of white liquid lands on his stomach with a loud groan and a twitch of his cock, another wave following the first as you stroke upward; it seeps from the tip and drips down his shaft and over your fingers. You keep jerking, determined to squeeze every last drop of pleasure from his balls, watching as he shudders and gasps in the aftermath of his release. A few more small, stringy ropes of cum dribble out, pooling on your hands.

Vash's chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath while he comes down from his intense high. You enjoy the sight of him. He looks happy and satisfied, almost out of his mind. You bring your fingers to your lips and taste him, relishing in the flavor when his eyes shoot open and find you, filled with a look that has completely abandoned the shyness from before. The sound of tearing fabric rips through the room as he busts out from the ribbons tying his arms behind his head, and his right hand grabs hold of yours, his long fingers effortlessly wrapping around your wrist as he pulls it closer while sitting up.

"Now it's my turn," he smiles a kind smile, but you recognize the mischief behind it.

WOLFWOOD x F!Reader (1.3k)

Wolfwood has disappeared. He hung around for most of the day, lazing it away with you, and then he got up and didn't return. You check the kitchen. Not there. You check the outside of the house, in case he is having an extraordinarily long smoke. Not there either. Finally, you sneak to the bedroom, in case he is taking a nap. You slowly crack the door, and your eyes widen in surprise.

On the old creaky bed you find what you were looking for. Kind of. Wolfwood lays on top of the bedsheets and blankets, the pillows bunched up by the headboard. He is the wrong way around, head where the feet are supposed to be. But that is not the shocking part. Not even close. He lies there butt naked, tied up with crimson ribbons. Wide bands of cloth crisscross his body, arms tied above his head, legs spread wide open, connected to the bedframe to keep him where he is. He looks over to you, a grin on his face, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Do you need a hand with something, Doll?" he asks with a playful tone, "I'm afraid I'm a bit tied up at the moment."

"What the…" Your voice trails off as you keep looking at his sculpted body.

Multiple thoughts run through your mind as he shifts in place, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he adjusts his stretched-out body. Your eyes are drawn to his navel, where his hard cock rests at full attention, a narrower ribbon tied around it with a bow. Clearly he has been waiting for you, head filled with exciting thoughts.

"How about you come closer, Poppet?" he purrs, voice full of lust, "My wrist may be bound, but you know I am never tongue-tied!"

You see him wink, and his fingers curl as he beckons you closer. Shock and confusion still linger in you, but it doesn't stop you from approaching the bed where his hands hang over the edge. You touch the ribbon with your fingers, a festive bow decorating his wrists. You consider pulling on the loose end to release him, but let your fingers trace along his arm instead until you touch his face. Wolfwood presses his cheek against your palm while you take a better look at him, spread out and tied up. Heat pools in your core at the sight, and just as your mind starts to wander, you feel his tied hands stroke up along the inside of your thighs.

"Want to have a seat?" he speaks softly, the grin evident in the tone of his voice, "I have one free right here."

You see the twitch of his cock as it lifts from his abdomen, and you can't help but feel a surge of desire at the invitation. You meet his playful eyes as you look down, his fingers tugging at his shirt that is too long on you. With some effort, he manages to reach the waistband of your underwear, teasingly pulling at the fabric.

"Come now, darling, I'm all yours," he says cheekily, and you take a step back. You cup his face and place an upside-down kiss on his lips.

You feel the vibrations as he hums in joy against your lips. Wolfwood's tongue sweeps through your mouth as soon as the possibility presents itself, making you both pause and smile against the other.

You straighten up, feeling his hungry eyes rip any item of clothing from your frame, yet his hands are tied, and you make a playful show out of pushing your panties down your legs and letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.

"I will kiss your lips and spell my full name with my tongue, the middle one included. Just bring them to me," he grins, his teeth flashing in the dimming room.

"Can't sleep on a gift like that," you smirk, leaning one knee on the edge of the bed, the long shirt covering you from his eyes.

"You could, but I highly recommend sleeping with the gift," he smiles still. "Now take a seat, Doll."

Wolfwood waits anxiously as you crawl closer to him on the bed, swallowing as soon as your pussy comes into view. Before you can settle in, he lifts his head to run his tongue through your folds, making you jolt with surprise.

"I can't help it if you taste so good," he hums as he lays down his head again. "Feel free to suffocate me. I would prefer that method of going out, and you know where the serum is, so no hovering."

You lean back at first as you lower yourself. His mouth eagerly finds your aching core, Wolfwood's flat tongue lapping at your slick heat with expertise. Your gasps of joy mix with his muffled hums of delight. It is so easy to melt into the pleasure as he sucks on your swollen clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. He alternates the sensation with lengthier and calmer strokes of his tongue, building the tension until you lean forward, fingers hooking under the ribbon that runs across his heaving chest.

The bliss makes your eyes roll back in pleasure while you let out a soft moan. Wolfwood knows every trick there is about you. His mouth brings you delight as he kisses your lower lips, his tongue drawing patterns you don't understand while he eats your pussy like it is his last meal. He draws pressured circles around your entrance before plunging his tongue inside you, making your thighs tighten and another wave of pleasure wash over you.

His body feels tight under you, like he is struggling against the restraints. Usually he would have already wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled you down even more, holding you against his ravenous mouth. His lips return to sucking on your sensitive bud, occasionally tapping it with his tongue. He builds your pleasure brick by brick, relishing the moans and gasps that reach his ears.

Wolfwood's mouth makes you forget the rest of the world. Before you know it, you're rolling your hips, grinding your wet core against his hungry mouth, desperate for more of his skilled touch. Knots of tension form in your gut as you rut against his lips, the need for release burning deep within you. The deep moans escaping his own throat vibrate against your pussy, making you want even more of him.

You bite your lower lip to silence the out-of-control moans and panting, but they continue to roll as whines in your throat as he sucks on your clit, the tip of his crooked nose pushing against your slick folds. You lean even more forward to grind your bud against his face. Your whole body trembles with pleasure, thighs clenching and shaking while you teeter on the edge of relief. You reach out your hand to wrap your fingers around his cock. The skinny ribbon digs into his throbbing length, and you smear the glob of pre-cum across the tip with your thumb. His groans vibrate against your skin as you stroke him, feeling his arousal match yours. You add your spit to the mix, using it as lubrication to bump up and down along his bound dick, soaking the ribbon of fabric wrapped tightly around it.

"Nico…" His name escapes your mouth in a whine. "I'm gonna come!"

You whimper his name like a chant as he continues to lap at your cunt, sucking and licking your clit until you reach your peak. Your body becomes so tense and occupied with the immense pleasure, you even forget the cock in your hand, freezing up until the climax finally washes over you, leaving you trembling as your thighs press together around his head. You let out a deep moan of satisfaction as he lets you come down from your high. It makes you feel weak and spent, leaving you lying down on top of Wolfwood's restrained body. He gasps for air as you rest your head on his hip, next to his cock that you start to absentmindedly stroke again, your mind still fuzzy from the orgasm that ravaged your body.

KNIVES x GN!Reader (1.2k)

"Untie me!" Knives demands with as much command as he can muster.

"Don't worry, I will," you smile innocently as you glance over his mostly naked body. Wide and silky red ribbons run crisscrossing from his ankles to his wrists, around his limbs, and over his torso. Multiple lavish bows decorate him. One by his feet, tying them together; one by his hands, where he is secured to the metal headboard of the bed; and a third one rests in his lap, where the ribbon runs over his hips. There is nothing else hiding his porcelain skin from you. Not a thing.

"Now!" he tries to hurry you up.

"No need to be hasty," you purr while leaning your knee on the edge of the bed. You reach out your hand to cup his face, making his angry glare turn directly to you. Knives's eyes meet yours, and suddenly they aren't nearly as harsh as he was trying to make them. You feel his jaw lock under your touch before he swallows.

"I knew you would come to your senses. Don't be so stubborn." Your smirk only grows as you gently slap his cheek twice. He seems at a loss for words; the snarl on his lips makes it clear he wants to keep demanding to be released, but the shift in the rest of his demeanor shows that at least part of him is content and perhaps even curious about the situation. "I know what would make you feel better."

You trace your finger along his jawline to his chin and down his throat, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your touch. You run your hand over his muscular chest and down his sculpted stomach, feeling the difference of his smooth skin and silky ribbon as they alternate under your finger. Skipping over his bellybutton, your finger reaches the ribbon running over his hips. You feel him tense slightly at your touch, but his eyes remain fixed on yours, a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation swirling in their depths. You let your fingers dance over the red fabric, low on his abdomen, before leaning in towards his ear.

"Believe me, I have every intention of unwrapping my present, and I will take great pleasure in it." With that, you nip at his earlobe, your teeth making it turn red.

Knives starts to protest again as soon as you get off the bed, his voice angry and demanding, but you drown it out, determined to enjoy your present immensely as you shed your clothes until all that remains is your underwear. Your joints crack as you stretch your arms lazily over your head with your back towards Knives, who is still spouting commands you have no intention of listening to. With a roll of your neck, you turn to him again, a mischievous smile dawning on your lips. You get on the bed, crawling closer to him on all fours until you straddle his lap, more towards his spread-out knees. He is in a half-sitting position himself, pillows heaped under his lower back and his arms restrained above his head. Like this, you're face to face with him, able to see every shift of his gaze as your hands run over his body again. First you slide your palms up and over his chest and then drag them down again to his navel and hips. He feels solid and tense under your touch, like a coiled spring ready to release. His eyes are no different as he plays chicken with yours. Without a warning and without averting your gaze, you reach one of your hands under the tied bow before you and grab hold of his half-flaccid cock. You can feel it twitch in your hand, responding to your sudden touch. His breath hitches, and his eyes shoot down as you begin to stroke him with your thumb like he's a small pet.

"You demand to be untied with such vigor, yet you aren't excited at all at the prospect," you sound out with a teasing voice, "How about you show some enthusiasm, and I promise I will help."

You see his mouth open in protest, but you remove your hand from his cock to grab his jaw and crash your mouth to his, effectively silencing any further objections. As a reaction, he responds to your kiss, even leaning his head forward, but as suddenly as you started, you pull away, a smug smile playing on your lips.

"Not another peep out of you, got it?" you say calmly, leaning your forehead to his while still holding his face in a vicelike grip. His eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. "Good boy."

Knives's eyes stay nailed to you as you pull away, leaning back to run your hands over your own body, from your neck down to your chest and stomach until your fingers brush the hem of your underwear.

"Over or under?" you ask him with a grin, but he doesn't reply. "Good!"

You push your underwear down as far as you can until you can touch yourself more easily. Knives's gaze moves down with your hand after you pick up some spit with it. He watches eagerly as you start to pleasure yourself. A few heavier breaths cross your lips, and you see his Adam's apple bob up and down. You lean back farther, bowing your body and supporting one hand on his knee. You know he enjoys watching you play with yourself; you've noticed it before, and the shift of the bow hiding his cock from view is even more proof of it. His eyes darken with desire as he watches you, his silence only adding to the intensity. The only sounds filling the small room come from you, leaving Knives's lips to part slightly. His chest moves with slow and heavy breaths, showing just how much he's struggling to maintain his composure. You look over his marble figure and the piercing red ribbon that digs slightly into his body with each deep breath. As your gaze reaches his lap, you see the weeping head of his erect cock peek out from between the loops of the bow.

With a lick of your lips, you reach out to take the loose end of the ribbon between your fingers; you twist it, wrapping it around your index before tugging at it slowly. You keep looking at his wavering eyes as you pull the bow loose, releasing Knives's cock from its confines and letting it spring free. You see how he tries to keep his composure, but his face leans closer, and his cock twitches with anticipation. The coil of ribbon is around your hand as you tug it free from under him, and you scoot closer, taking his dick into the other hand and pressing it against your own throbbing sex.

Knives draws breath to say something while you stroke along his hard length, but you stuff his mouth with the ribbon you pulled loose from around him before he gets a single word out. His voice is muffled and unrecognizable as you continue to pleasure him. While your hand moves up and down along his length, you lean your body more against his. You feel his heavy breaths and racing pulse beneath you.

"I told you to be quiet," you whisper into his ear, "All you can say is Please and I want more. Got it? I will fuck you until one of us passes out and there is no point in pleading to be untied."

Want more festive content? Check out the 2024 holiday collection!

Didn't get your fill or not quite what you're looking for? Check out my MASTERLIST for more PG and Explicit Trigun content!

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

Okay, finally caught up on the full VOD and here are some messy thoughts

...

So. UHHH. On a gut emotional level, I fucking hated that lmao. Whole chapter of my life finished with a bang and a whimper. Las Nevadas Labor Union is over, y'all. The boss just deny, defend, deposed himself. Holy shit.

On an intellectual, thematic level... I... can't really... argue with that? Like, we didn't actually expect a character that cc!Q explicitly said was inspired by Walter White to receive a happy ending or a functional relationship, did we? We were really high on our copium supply, good grief.

I could, and still might, write a whole meta about how c!Quackity has been passively suicidal with a foreshortened sense of future for a very long time. As far back as Doomsday, he didn't care if he lost his life, as long as he got to watch those who hurt him go down first. He declared so many times that he would die with his country. He was incessantly compared to c!Wilbur, both by other characters and by the narrative itself. He was fucking terrified of being betrayed again, but he always expected it, and moreover did nothing to prevent it. He told c!Foolish and c!Purpled outright that they would have every right to kill him for what he did to them. Didn't even consider making himself immortal with the revival book, instead focusing on making sure c!Dream would no longer have it. Didn't fight back when Slime killed him. Doubled down on his mistakes, and in hindsight rationalized everything as inevitable. Wrested back control the only way he knew how, following another's model. Las Nevadas was a broken institution, built by a man who had given up on fixing anything. His story was always about the self-perpetuating cycle of power and abuse.

This... isn't shocking, unfortunately. If anything, it was too obvious an ending.

I won't go too deep into the OOC implications, because they will make me sound... way more parasocial than I want to be. But I don't think it's controversial to say that the DSMP holds a lot of complicated, difficult, bittersweet memories for many of its former members. It does not surprise me at all that the ending cc!Q chose for his arc was an unhappy one. There are several possible conclusions I would have greatly preferred, but none could have realistically happened without Certain People returning. I wonder how aware the creator was of that, and how much those emotions bled into the writing.

And while I'm... still not certain how I feel about c!Quackity blowing himself up even after being given a second chance (I will always prefer "live and try to do better" à la Bojack Horseman for characters like this), I see the in-universe logic behind it, and everything up to that point was completely in character. Right down to his denial of having ever done the deed, boasting that his enemies deemed him important enough to kill, while ironically taking hollow pride in denying them the chance to take the revenge he so desperately sought for himself, showing no mercy to who he maybe subconsciously believed was his greatest obstacle to true glory... ughhh, c!Quackity makes me so fucking SAD you guys-

Ahem. Anyway. Could he have forgiven himself? Would he have ever accepted the forgiveness of others? Perhaps, perhaps not. In two other lives, those he unknowingly gave a second chance to, he did. q!Quackity went on living for the sake of someone he loved, knowing he, too, was loved. k!Quackity went on living until he found justice, knowing he did not deserve to be wronged. c!Quackity... what other legacy would he have left? Does he know what he truly wanted, before all that fear and hunger for control tainted his heart? Was he content to know someone would remember him with a shred of fondness? That he left a single positive impact? That his life did have a purpose?What if he knew that even some of those with the most reason to hate him still wanted him to be better?

I suppose one might imagine an open-ended resolution, exchanging that last shot of c!Q's last life vanishing with him riding Boner/Ossium away from the explosion and into the sunset to build a better legacy. What would that new legacy look like? I have no idea. I don't think he knows yet, either. But we can pick our favorite based on the day. Time travel is real, and canon is made up. We can do what we want forever now. Enjoy.

...

He's not a fucking gringo, though. c!Quackity is Mexican, importantly so, full fucking stop. Stop infecting him with more Trump particles than he already had. "Oh great, a foreigner" honestly FUCK you Alex. 0/10 for that

[thezombieprostitute]

My dearest Zombie.

I wanted to share a thought with you.

I always imagined skinny!Steve and Jensen would get along well bc they're both a little inexperienced and simpy. Jensen would also like that he could be the tough guy, even though Steve firmly believes he is the tough one.

Also, they both appreciate lady with extra.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: let me dust the snow off your coat/hat/shoulder

A/N2: Took me a bit to figure this out because I wanted to make sure it was different enough from @callalillywrites Alpha!Jake x Beta!skinny Steve stories. I'm really looking forward to when those get reposted!

You sigh as you look down at Steve, half buried in the snow. "I told you, Steve, you need to stop trying to defend my honor or whatever. Insults about my size don't hurt me nearly as much those assholes hurt you."

Steve groans, "can't help it. Want everyone to treat you like the angel you are."

Shaking your head you ask, "anything broken this time?"

"No, just sore."

You bend down and hold out a hand to help him up. "I swear, you and Jake are masochists." Steve gets to his feet and quickly shows he's able to stand on his own. "Here, let me dust the snow off you."

"At least I had a soft landing," he jokes.

"First Jake and now you," you sigh, exasperated. "Let's just get you home so I can take a better look at those bruises, okay?"

"You're just trying to get me naked again," he teases.

"If that's all I was after, I'd just have to ask and you'd strip down here in the alley."

"You're not wrong," he nods, his cheeks turning red.

Back home Jake is on the couch, his leg propped up from when he twisted it chasing after some assholes who catcalled you. He sees Steve's black eye and winces. "I thought you said you weren't going to fight until I could help you!"

"My temper got the better of me," Steve mumbles.

Jake nods, "I get it. She's an angel and deserves to be treated as such."

"Exactly!" Steve looks at you. "See? He gets it!"

You roll your eyes before setting Steve down on one of the recliners. "Stay there while I get the first aid kit." Steve just nods.

As soon as you're out of earshot Jake grabs the notebook from underneath the couch cushions.

"Okay, how many was it?"

"It was two guys," Steve grumbles. "It would've been three but one of them refused to fight me."

Jake shakes his head, "you're two behind me. You wanna 'prove' you're tougher, you're gonna have to catch up."

"I've got the advantage," Steve smirks. "I can still take walks with her. You've got another, what? Four, five days for that foot to heal up?"

"You keep getting your ass kicked you'll be back in the hospital," Jake counters. "Then how are you going to catch up?"

Steve nods in frustration. "It's a balancing act. Which if you were better at, you wouldn't have hurt your ankle."

"Ouch," Jake chuckles before hiding the notebook back under the couch.

"What are you two talking about?" you ask, looking between the two of them.

"Just trying to tell Steve about why he should be more careful and not start so many fights."

"Really?" you raise your eyebrow.

"It's true," Steve nods. "And he made some good points."

"Huh. Maybe there's hope for the two of you after all."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey again...

So I've kind of already mentioned it, but figured it was time to make an actual post.

A lot of you already know that I've been a participant in fandom for over a decade now, starting out in the original Hunger Games fandom and then quickly working my way to SuperWhoLock and a couple of others over the years. I took a step back from fandom because of different things going on in my life, and it wasn't really until Summer 2023 that I decided to get involved again. This time around, though, I had stories that I wanted to share and used writing fanfic as a way to navigate and cope with how crazy my day to day had become. Writing became my way to escape the uncertainty that had come with losing my job and keeping me sane while I hunted for a new one.

I could never have imagined how a silly, little U.S. military propaganda movie would change my life in such interesting ways.

I've been writing since I was old enough to tell stories, ideas floating in and out of my head faster than the speed of light, and even though my friends told me all the time how much they loved the ideas and my actual writing, I had convinced myself that I'm not a good writer. I held onto that belief for years until a story concerning a blond aviator as a an outlaw in the old west consumed me to the point where I thought I would go crazy if I didn't start to write it. So I did, and then I got the crazy idea to start posting it - just wanting to see if other people would like it too. To my absolute shock and awe, they did! A lot of people actually did! So I kept writing, and I quickly added new stories too which people seemed to enjoy. I made so many new friends, and people really did seem to enjoy my writing which made me so, so happy.

Stories have always been so special to me, and coming up with new ones and sharing them with others has always been a passion of mine. I love talking about them with other people, talking over theories and characters til I'm blue in the face. What's going to happen? Why? How will this affect the other characters? All things I love discussing, but...fandom doesn't like to do that anymore. All it is anymore is an endless sea of likes, which are...okay, but why are people refusing to talk to me? Are they bored? Are they shy? Was that last chapter too lackluster? Should I have added more action? Romance? Surely not because people are demanding more? More scenarios, more smut, more words, more, more more. Maybe I should step away for a day or two, just to give myself a break? Okay, yeah, that should be fine. Okay, what about a week? I have some stuff going on at this new job that I need to deal with. Okay, now people aren't even sending requests in. Now even fewer people are commenting or sending messages in. Why? Did I do something? Was I away too long? Surely people know that I'm a person behind this screen. Oh, now most of my friends are leaving the site...Now I haven't talked to anyone in weeks.

So...what's the point? Seems like people aren't even reading what I'm putting out these days, so why continue writing for a silent audience?

This is all to say these are some of the thoughts that have been going through my head lately, and I've decided that it's not healthy. Demanding attention from people unwilling to give it is not serving me anymore, and neither are the jealous and hateful people who hide behind the anonymous feature. People who have screamed at me since I started because they've been jealous of the attention I've gotten in the past, trying to get me to quit the entire time. Well, you win. You get your wish, congratulations. I hope you feel happy with the number of people who read your fics because surely they'll come read yours now that I'm not posting anything. Hating on me and my work was never going to make you a better writer or person.

As for me, I'll probably still make posts from time to time if I don't go back to my old blog again. I've decided to dedicate time to writing my actual novel that's been in the works for 12+ years now, and I have a renewed excitement for it now that I know my writing is worth reading. Thanks, strangers on the internet! And who knows, maybe TG3 will prompt me to write fanfic again one day.

For now, my stories will stay posted, but that may change as I decide more on what I'm doing, so please don't be surprised if one day they're actually gone. I've already cleared out my inbox, so...sorry if I didn't manage to get to your request.

I'd like to thank @sorchathered @pinguhub and @attapullman for the late night calls and vent sessions. @goldenseresinretriever and @fanficfandomlove for being constant rocks and sources of inspiration for my fics. And @roosterforme for being a solid head to rely upon and gab with. You guys rock, and I hope you'll stick with me for the journey that lies ahead.

Until next time.

Liz~

[chimggukchim]

2024...A Look Back At Jikook

As we bring in the new year and all the possibilities and hope that it brings, I thought I'd reflect on the year that was 2024 and all that we received from Jimin and Jungkook. Here are some of my favourite presents!

Are You Sure? - Duh! Lol. How else would I begin this list? I don't think there was anyone who could have ever predicted that we would be getting a reality series with just Jikook. Like...THAT HAPPENED! We literally got to spend 8+ hours with Jikook and their dynamic. Added to that...MERCH?! So I'd say it was a pretty rewarding year if we'd just gotten that.

MUSE - I'm sure we all felt a bit dejected when FACE's promo time wasn't that long due to most of the guys needing to release their stuff before their enlistment date in December. This is not meant to be a fighting point (I don't care to entertain mantis). Anyway, it was a joy to not only see him release another album, but also have that album and it's HUGE single be given an adequate amount of focus time. I personally enjoyed MUSE more, as the songs were more to my taste and...BLONDE JIMIN!!! I was completely obsessed with his look for this album. And I love that even though a lot of English was incorporated into the album, there was still a very big presence of Jimin in its creation. Jimin is so creative, it isn't even funny, and I personally look forward to him being more involved in BTS' music production and lyricism.

WHO - Listen...when Seven came out and did THOSE numbers, my mind was blown. Just look at the records it took from BTS and Dynamite/Butter! I was like...how can that ever be topped? Well, Park Jimin had something to say about that, apparently. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I was simply dumbfounded that Who was not only keeping pace or was close to what Seven did last year, but surpassed it in so many key areas! It isn't that I doubted Jimin or anything. But certain patterns have been established; Jungkook has, for years, been arguably the most popular member just based purely on a consumption factor. So his releases would have done numbers. And Seven was a very heavily promoted single. Not to mention, Jungkook himself was present to do a promo run (which is why it got radio for those who don't understand how radio deals work in the US). So what Who has achieved without all of that (especially without Jimin to physically be here to promote) is absolutely incredible. And it shows me that, like Jungkook, Jimin would absolutely kill a solo run whenever he so chooses in the future. I am like a proud mama seeing what Who continues to achieve to this day, and am happy that he has the support.

Who Is My Heart Waiting For - Yes, Jimin. Who was your heart truly waiting for? lol. I won't go into much analysis here because there are amazingly detailed, cohesive, logical takes on the Who MV by others, so you can check those out. What I will say is that there is not a doubt in my mind that those are Jungkook's eyes in that billboard, and that this MV was done deliberately. Jimin and Jungkook have, over the years and on numerous occasions, put a bit of each other into their art, and just enough to have our heads scratching yet not be overtly obvious about anything. Kings of subtle yet loud, I would say. And this MV for me, was another example of that. Sure, one can debate that we can't be 100% certain it's JK but to that I say...to each his own. Because it wasn't just the eye thing. It was the entire MV. And the link to Taeyang and his ENL mv, I don't think is a coincidence. He is one of Jimin's biggest influences, and they did spend time together. I truly do think that Jimin used this opportunity to tell us who really has his heart.

Jikook are a MUSICAL DUO FORCE to be reckoned with - Potential relationship aside, looking at Jimin and Jungkook from a purely professional standpoint, what 2024 has shown me is that if these two were to ever be given the opportunity to become a sub-unit in the future...they would conquer the musical world. They have both shown with their music, that they have the support to be absolutely successful, and with the release of AYS, and how it was received, there is an indication that they are a very popular duo within the fandom as well (don't let keyboard trolls on social media gaslight you into thinking otherwise). Plus, the stage presence they have individually, and the chemistry they have together is otherwordly insane. So if there is one wish that I did have where jikook are concerned, it would be that BigHit see the potential there and give them a shot at a sub-unit at some time.

Jikook continues to Jikook - No matter what anyone comes on here to say (anti, solo, akgae, denialists etc), 2024 has shown us that Jimin and Jungkook continue to go very strong. They enlisted together for a reason, and it seems that they are happy they did so. These two continue to be the 'You Are Me, I Am You' duo that the universe conspired to put together. They are happy together now, and I cannot wait for them to be happy together come June, 2025.

Anyway, those were just some of the little gifts that I was happy to be given by these two this past year. I'm sure I missed some stuff, so you are most welcome to share your thoughts too.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!!

[causenessus]

present

part 0.2. HIGH DIVE

"you calm me down like you said you would i'm calling / you were never mine / i'm falling again / in the summertime"

he didn’t know how he’d gotten here.

maybe it was intoxication. he hoped it was; he hoped he could blame his decision to come here on his irrational state. the thought of coming here and what excuse he would make had been tugging at him for days; he hated trying to explain himself to others. too many times had he never been understood. he’d lost everyone he’d previously trusted as if the world was determined to make him carry his burdens alone. the rules seemed unchangeable yet here he was, setting himself up to be hurt again.

yes, he was intoxicated. that must be it. why else would he be here? it wasn’t because of her eyes. those eyes that drew him near; looked at him with so much emotion he’d almost crumbled immediately under their gaze. it wasn’t a look of pity she'd looked at him with, but one of empathy. a part of him wanted to lash out every time she looked at him like that, tell her she had no idea what he was thinking or going through, but he didn't want to do that. he didn't want to lash out at her when she was only trying to help. the truth was, she probably did know what he was going through. she was probably the only one did.

damn.

he was so damn trusting. why was he here, wearing his heart on his sleeve? he didn’t need this.

maybe that was true. but did he want it? he was damned if he said no. and if she didn’t open this damn door–

the door swung open, his breath hitching at the sound.

‘stupid. do you want this or not?’ 

he was about to tear off his own head at this point. he couldn’t stop thinking. ‘stop stop stop–’

she was calling his name. taking a step forward.

he was tempted to give up and bolt down the hallway, away from her presence, or her touch which would surely bring him to the point of no return. he still had time, maybe he could the elevator and dive off the roof. no, he shouldn’t do that, that was suicide. suicide–

“chuuya, come inside,” she spoke softly, stepping to the side. she didn't reach out to touch him, worried about where his boundaries lay. she was giving him all the control, he just needed to walk through the door.

she already knew. she already knew. she knew everything he was thinking. was that a good thing? or was he pathetic? emotional? needy? he nodded in appreciation, stepping past her and letting out a loud exhale, attempting to combat the noise of his own thoughts as he slipped off his shoes. she fumbled with the hem of her shirt as she waited.

she led him down a wooden floored hallway to the right into an open room, with a wide window that took up the entire wall. they lived on the same floor, yet their apartments were drastically different. his was much bigger, yet the smaller apartment fit her well. it was the perfect size for her and everything she seemed to need. while he often found any noise echoing through his apartment, her's seemed to be a perfect mix of rustic, cozy, and cluttered with decorations but organized.

their floor was high enough in the sky that they seemed to tower above the rest of the city that never slept. warm lights spilled from nearby glass buildings onto the neon signs illuminating the streets below, mixing wavelengths and giving the city a red glow; it was never truly dark in yokohama. past the window and the sight of the city, he noticed the plants and flowers that lined both her balcony and interior walls. his eyes then landed on her, standing in a makeshift kitchen; it wasn't separated from the lounge at all, except for the change in floor tiling. she stood straight from where she'd been reaching into a lower cabinet for a kettle, “do you want anything? tea?” she offered.

“yeah. please,” he replied quietly, taking a seat on her nearby couch. it was worn, but not in the way of stained fabric and frayed threads. he sunk into certain cushions that had begun to lose their color further than others and the base of the seat gave him a low groan. like everything else in her apartment, the piece of furniture was well-loved. 

he watched her in silence as she moved through the kitchen in practiced manner. her stove was in the center of the kitchen area, plenty of counter space and a sink alongside the appliance, forming a small island. the gentle noise of paper tearing, mugs clinking down onto the marble of the spotless white counters, and steaming hot water being poured into the mismatched cups helped quiet his mind down. he let her steal his full attention, bringing him back to the present. in this moment, nothing mattered more than the two hot mugs she was bringing over; not what had happened in the past, or what was going to happen in the future, all that mattered was her. she took a seat across from him on the other side of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest after she'd placed a mug down on the coffee table in front of him while keeping the other for herself. 

her voice broke through the silence that had settled over them after gotten settled, “is it about–”

he grimaced instinctively at the mention of him. he wasn’t used to talking about his thoughts, or other people reading his thoughts. he wasn’t even sure how he felt, which made his head spin more. were his emotions plain and easy to read for her? was he the only one that couldn’t quite understand how he felt? why did he feel so confused? he knew how he should feel; angry, upset, betrayed–and yet none of those words seemed to accurately capture the weight upon his heart inside of him.

he clenched his fists tightly before trying to calm himself down. he turned his body, copy her position. he held his mug in one hand before leaning his back against the arm of his side of the couch, bringing his arms to wrap around his legs.

“it’s just…” he needed to say it–he just needed to get it out. he’d give one more person a try, and if she didn’t respond well, he’d accept that he was fated to suffer alone for the rest of his life; it was as simple as that.

“it’s too quiet. i know,” she watched the steam curl up from the cup in her hand, similar to the living marks that twisted across her own skin.

that was it.

that was exactly it, and she was the only one who had admitted it, appeared to notice it, or simply let it show.

everything was too quiet, but no one had addressed it. no one around them talked more than they had to, or let the fact that an integral one of them had left. perhaps that had been part of why he’d showed up at her doorstep. he was sick of pretending nothing had happened and drinking alone trying to numb out his misery; he wanted to talk to someone other than himself without immediately comparing it to how things used to have been when he was still around.

because essentially, the mafia was nothing without dazai. he hated walking down the halls, past that one pillar the boy’s stupid bandaged hand had etched three lines into. it almost made chuuya think dazai knew he’d be leaving soon and was leaving his mark while he could. he hated the part of him that anticipated seeing dazai, every time he walked down a hall, getting ready to think of something snarky to say or give him a crude look.

but he never came.

they would never pass each other in the halls again.

that was now only something of the past, and it had happened for the last time only days ago without him even realizing it. whether dazai knew that, though, was another story.

yes, he felt betrayed by dazai. he could acknowledge that much. but his focus wasn’t on how the man had betrayed the entire port mafia, but how he had betrayed him. they both hated the other so much, but who else could chuuya trust in true times of peril? who else could he always rely on to come up with the strangest but smartest plans when there was no time to think? who else was familiar with every single movement chuuya made, and could predict even the movements he didn’t make but had thought of making?

the realization made him close his eyes, but a brush against his hand made him open them again.

“don’t keep it in your head, say it out loud. i’ll listen,” she held his gaze.

as if he even needed to say anything, she understood him completely. “i didn’t know him like you did– i wasn’t around him like you were, but i know.”

he’d averted his eyes at the statement. the way she looked at him and talked made him feel exposed as if he was bare in front of her despite how many walls he thought he’d built up to keep him safe from everyone around him. he focused instead on the shadowed tendril slithering down her hand, curling around her ring finger before she squeezed his hand still gently placed over his and he looked back up.

only then did he notice how tired she looked. 

in a normal instance, perhaps he would have quipped back that it was a good thing she wasn’t around dazai as much. he would have cursed dazai out, saying it was a pain being around him so much against his will. yet saying those things felt like reopening raw wounds that hadn’t yet closed. he’d been around dazai too much for his own good, and his absence still hurt. she hadn’t been around dazai as much, but it still hurt her. it had hurt everyone. he knew it wasn’t true anger he felt at the plain fact that dazai had left; was it hurt? was he hurt that dazai had left?

“i hate him. i hate him so much, you know. and yet i–” he hadn’t expected to get choked up on the words, but it was as if just starting to say what he felt out loud had begun to alleviate some of the pressure in his head and chest. and with that, came a burst of emotions and pain he'd been pushing down. it felt safe here, in her apartment. sitting on her couch, with her hand on his–he hadn't even truly realized how much he'd already opened up. it’d been such a natural progression, starting with her offering him something to drink, then touching his hand, and then he was letting his mind loose before he knew it. “i can’t understand why he left,” he whispered.

that was the root of the entire issue. call it the lesson he had learned from being around the man for so long, but chuuya knew it was impossible to try to understand dazai’s actions. it would only lead him down a never-ending rabit hole, yet he couldn't help but question why. everyone had called them a team. they were known as a team–the double black. the name and idea of a duo held weight in and of itself. dazai was the only one who could stop him in the event that he used corruption. there was no one else like them, and yet dazai had been able to simply leave as if those values meant nothing to him–as if chuuya meant nothing to him. they hated each other, yes, but that had still been more than nothing, right?

these were parts he couldn’t say out loud–at least not yet–but she hadn’t pushed it. instead, she gave voice to the rest of the feelings that plagued him, “i get it. no one knows what will happen after this; if he'll come back, or if he'll expose all our secrets. no one can understand dazai’s mind, and certainly no one was expecting an executive to suddenly up and leave. i didn’t work with him as closely as you did, but i’ve known and worked with him for long enough that i just feel so confused. i can't help but come up with reasons why he may have left–were we not enough? did we do something wrong?”

at some point, they ended up leaning against each other rather than facing each other. now that he’d been able to get the weight of the situation off his chest, he felt like he was about to crash out at any second after a week of tossing and turning. 

he hadn’t even spoken that much. [y/n] had talked the most and understood him completely. in the beginning, chuuya had wanted to label dazai as just a flat-out traitor, but of course dazai wasn’t that simple of a character. the day dazai had left, chuuya had fell into his bed wondering why, if they had been unstoppable, had that not been enough? 

but the girl next to him had been able to take some of those pointless questions that would never be answered off of his mind. and if his mind was no longer filled with accusations and insecurities based around the man that had left them both, then maybe he was ready to move on. “thank you, [y/n]. really,” he said, meaning to say it as a goodbye but he didn’t get up. he didn’t want to move.

she didn’t move either, her head staying where it was, resting on his shoulder, “if you want to stay here, that’s okay, chuuya. even though you’re just down the hall– if you just want company, that’s okay. you can stay here.”

she had read him so well his pride wanted to deny it, tell her she was wrong, and he didn’t need company or anything like that.

but it wasn’t that she was calling him weak, he had to realize. she was instead affirming to him that it was alright to want company–to not want to go to sleep or wake up alone.

as one last attempt to justify his stay on her couch, he once again told himself he was under the influence.

but that was a lie; he hadn’t touched a glass of wine since the bottle he’d opened in initial celebration of dazai’s disappearance a week ago. 

this was simply him listening to the pull in his chest, whatever that was.

the pull had led him here, to her apartment, and once they'd begun to lean on each other, the tug had disappeared. he'd found exactly where he'd needed to be.

with her.

yes this is in fact the chapter that started it all which is much like the oneshot I wrote 🙂‍↕️

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

but it's nice to see how I've hopefully improved with my small edits!

due to [y/n]'s ability, there are always parts of her skin enveloped in shadows that are ever-moving and changing. the more (mentally) unstable she becomes the more her shadows consume her body

[y/n] and chuuya live in the same apartment building on the same floor. there are rooms on both sides of the hallways and then one big more penthouse-esque at the end of the hallway if that makes sense. chuuya lives in the apartment at the end of the hallway and [y/n] lives in one of the ones on the sides

i have reference pictures if anyone is confused and i deeply apologize for the confusion

and also I thank you all for all of your love so far!! it means the world i'm kissing each one of you individually MWAH <3

taglist: @kameyyy @miiyas @saoirseyun @phoenix-eclipses @writingandmusing @strawberryuri @viovya (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 2

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

“He's sleeping on your sofa?”

“Yes.”

“He stayed for the night?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Inés.”

“I know, Carla. I know” I sigh over the phone. “But what else should have I done? I don't know where he lives and I couldn't send him on his own. Like, the driver was super nice and wanted to help, but…“

“What was that noise?”

“Oh my God, Pedri!” I say, running towards the living room. “Pedri, are you ok?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine” he says from the floor. 

“I'll call you later, Carla” I say, hanging up before she can say goodbye. “Are you sure you are ok?”

“Yeah… The blood in my hand is old, so I guess I didn't open my head in half.”

“You actually did that last night.”

“What?” he asks, looking up at me. How can he be hungover and still look handsome? It's not fair. 

“You hit your head when you were getting out of the Uber. And you still have blood in your hand because you fell asleep before I could take care of it.”

“Shit” he says, slowly moving back to sit on the sofa and untangling his legs from the blanket. “I'm sorry, Inés.”

“What for?”

“All this. Whatever it is I did last night. I don't usually drink so much that I end up this drunk, but…”

“But drinking the amount of alcohol you drank in one go, can knock out anyone.”

“Yeah” he chuckles, the movement definitely hurting him. “May I ask for a glass of water?”

“Of course. One of the big ones?”

“If you have one…” he smiles. Though that also seems to hurt him.

“Here you go” I say when I'm back with his water.

“Thank you, Inés” he says, drinking it all in one go. Again. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask him.

“I could eat a cow, to be honest” Pedri laughs. 

“I'm afraid I don't have one, my apartment is too small to keep one of those. And the smell…”

“Yeah” he chuckles. “It's a nice apartment, tho. Very cosy.”

“You said the same last night.”

“Well, kids and drunks don't lie, do they?” he smirks, looking at me.

“Yeah” I reply with a nervous laugh, hoping he can't notice that I'm blushing. “I can't offer you a cow, but maybe an omelette will be ok? I've heard it helps with hangovers, and I don't have much else on my fridge right now.”

“An omelette will be fine. Thank you.”

“You're welcome” I smile. “And the bathroom is that door over there” I say, pointing behind me. “You probably want to refresh yourself a bit and check your wound. Or I can do it myself. The wound part, not the refreshing.” Oh my God, Inés. Shut up.

“I think I can manage” he says, slowly getting up from the sofa. “But I'll leave the door open just in case” he winks, instantly regretting doing it. 

“Great, umm… that door” I say, trying to stay focused and not think too much about the way his wink has made me feel. Like, it was just a wink, and one he didn't even manage to properly do because he ended up closing both eyes. It should have not turned me on!

“Thank you, Inés” he replies before slowly walking away while I just watch him. Even the way he walks while being hungover is sexy. What the fuck?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Inés, I'm afraid I may have ruined one of your towels while washing my face” Pedri says as he walks into the kitchen.

“Oh, don't worry. It's… bloody hell” I gasp, the fork I had on my hand falling to the floor.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Clumsy hands” I chuckle as I bend down to pick it, hiding my face as much as I can. Because I'm pretty sure that if he looked at it right now, he would be able to see how badly I'm blushing. And why, you may ask? Because he just walked into the kitchen while putting on his t-shirt, and I've gotten to see in person his chest, and his abs, and I just… I… Thoughts have been thought. “Your omelette is almost ready” I manage to say.

“Great. Do you want me to help you with anything?” he offers.

“No, don't worry. Sit down.”

“Ok" he says. "By the way, do you know where I left my phone? It isn't in my pocket and I didn't see it in the living room.”

“Oh, it's in my bag. You dropped it on the Uber when you decided to take a nap on my lap.”

“So that wasn't a dream, uh… Anyway, I just wanted to check on Mario. I think we left him with a friend of yours?”

“Yep, with Carla” I say, focusing on finishing his omelette. “Nothing happened between them if that's what you are wondering.”

“But they seemed to like each other, didn't they? I think I remember that.”

“They… they did, yes” I say, putting the plate with the omelette in front of him and giving him my back again. And why? Because I'm feeling as nervous as if I am being judged to get into MasterChef, but mainly because his hair is all wet, and so is part of his t-shirt, and he looks so… so… so freaking hot. “Do you want something to drink too? More water?”

“Please” he says. “And oh my God, Inés. This tastes like heaven.”

“It's just an omelette, Pedri” I chuckle. 

“Best one I've ever tasted.”

“I think the hangover is talking for you.”

“Maybe… or maybe not” he smirks. “Thank you for taking care of me. I should have been the one taking care of you and accompanying you home, and then…”

“It's ok, don't worry” I smile. 

“You can't tell anyone at uni about this, tho.”

“Will I be ruining your reputation?” I tease him. Wait, what? Who are you, woman?

“Oh, definitely” he laughs, the sound making the butterflies on my stomach come alive. I've made him laugh. Me. Inés. I've made Pedri laugh. Can you believe it? “Getting drunk after just one drink and then opening my head with a car's door? They would tease me with that until we graduate.”

“My lips are sealed, then” I say, touching them.

“Thank you” he says. And call me crazy, but I could swear he focused on them for longer than you normally would before starting to eat again. Though maybe it's because I have something on my face. Maybe I didn't clean myself properly after eating my breakfast, and I've had chocolate somewhere while we've been talking and oh my God! “This was so good, Inés.”

“You already finished it?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. Did he eat too fast or was I gone with my own thoughts for too long? 

“But you still are hungry, aren't you? That probably counts as just a cow's ear.”

“I am, yes” he chuckles. “Do you know if anyone in your neighborhood makes churros?”

“What?”

“I'm in the mood for churros. Though maybe it is too late for them, isn't it?” he says, checking his watch.

“A bit, yes.”

“Then we could make them ourselves.”

“What?” I say again. He's going to start thinking I'm stupid. Or deaf. Or both.

“Yeah, it'll be fun. We just need some flour.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

We just need some flour, Pedri had said. But the thing was, that I didn't have any at home or even a machine to make churros, so we had had to go out to one of those 24 hour open supermarkets and a bazaar to buy everything we would be needing. While we were at it, we also bought some chocolate that he swore was the best chocolate ever and that it would be perfect for the churros, some gummy bears he was in the mood for, and on our way home, what did he do when he saw a woman selling roses on the street? He bought me one.

Pedri bought me a freaking red rose. 

He said it was his way of saying thank you for taking care of him, but because like I already said, I'm stupid and can't accept that he only likes me as a friend, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. 

“It is very easy. Look” Pedri says, letting a churro graciously lay on the oil. After making a bit of a mess in my kitchen, mainly because we spent most of our time making jokes and teasing the other, now it was time for the less fun part: frying the churros.

“It is easy for you. I've never done this before.”

“Inés, you made me an omelette for breakfast. You know your way around the kitchen” he chuckles.

“With what I'm familiar with, yes. But this…” I say, looking at the frying pan as he puts another one in.

“It'll be fine, you'll see.”

“Pedri…”

“Pick a churro” he says, moving to stand behind me. 

“Shouldn't I put an apron first or something?”

“Aprons are for cowards, I already told you. Pick a churro, Inés.”

“Fine” I sigh. 

“The key is to not think too much about it.”

“What?” I say, his face suddenly too close to mine. So close, that I can feel his breath tickling my ear. 

“If you think too much about it you'll probably end up burning yourself, and we don't want that, do we?”

“No” I whisper. 

“Inés, stop looking at me and focus on what we are doing” he smirks. 

“I'm focused” I say, giving his lips one last look before focusing on the pan. This close they look even more kissable. 

“Good” he says. I can't see his face anymore, but I'm sure he is still smiling. “Now pick a churro.” 

“Ok” I say, putting all my senses on that and not on his hands resting on my waist, or the fact that he is now so close to me that if I moved a little, I could feel his churro. 

“We are going to do it at the count of three, ok? Remember to not think too much about it.”

“Ok” I nod.  

“One… two… three!” 

“Ah!” I yell, closing my eyes and letting the churro fall on the pan before twisting on Pedri's arms and curling up against him.

“You did it, Inés!” he laughs, his chest vibrating against mine, a feeling I could definitely get used to. “Inés… Inés, hey. Are you ok?” he says, his hands suddenly moving to my face and making me look at him. “Did you get burnt?”

“What?” 

“The oil, Inés. Did it burn you?” he says, his eyes moving all over my face. He looks so worried but also so cute and concerned and cute and… 

“No, no. I'm fine.”

“You sure?” Pedri asks, one of his thumbs moving over my cheek. It is the lightest of touches, but it manages to make my knees feel weak and my face burn, something I'm pretty sure he is noticing. 

“I'm fine.”

“Ok, good” he says, giving me one last concerned look before smiling again. “Why don't you take care of the chocolate while I finish this?”

“Yes, sure.”

“Great” he says, kissing my forehead and letting go of me. Did he… Did Pedri just kiss my forehead? As if I was a little kid? Though I've seen photos of couples doing it on Pinterest and they look really cute so… 

“Inés, did you hear me?”

“I…”

“You didn't” he chuckles. “Get a couple of pots to start melting the chocolate.”

“Yes, a pot. For the chocolate. Yes” I say, trying to focus again on what we are doing. On the churros.

“Two pots, Inés.”

“Two pots, yes” I say, starting to look for them to try and ignore the playful smile on his face, one that is definitely not helping with my current state. At all. 

Because getting turned on while making churros, was something I didn't have on my bingo card for today. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And that's the last one” Pedri says after taking the last churro from the frying pan. We've made enough for the whole building, to be honest. “How is the chocolate going?”

“I think it's almost ready.”

“Let me check.”

“Pedri!” I say when he puts his finger inside the pot. 

“What?” he says after sucking it and then licking a bit of chocolate that was running down towards his hand, making me add all that to my list of things I didn't know could turn me on. 

“Haven't you heard of spoons?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. “But this way it tastes a lot better. Give it a go” he says, covering his finger on chocolate once again.

“What are you doing?” I say with a nervous laugh.

“I want you to taste the chocolate.”

“From your finger?” 

“Yeah” he shrugs again. “C'mon, Inés.”

“I… I…”

“You won't regret it. Trust me.” 

“Ok” I say, holding Pedri's hand and sucking his finger, the noise that leaves my mouth when I taste the chocolate making this situation even more sexual and pornographic than it already was.

“Told you it was good” he smirks before licking his finger. The finger I just sucked, yes. “Now let's taste it with a churro” he says, taking one and dipping it on the chocolate. “Ladies first.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Open your mouth, Inés.” Jesus fucking Christ. Does he know the meaning of everything he's saying and doing, or is it just me and my dirty mind? “Good girl” Pedri smirks when I do as he says and give the churro a bite, another very sexual noise leaving my mouth. 

Oh, he knows. He definitely knows what he is doing. Where has his hungover gone?

“Good?” he asks me, eating what was left of it.

“So good” I manage to say.

“Then let's sit down and eat them before they get cold.”

Though if you ask me, that would be something impossible keeping in mind how hot I'm feeling right now. Just the heat coming from my body would be able to keep them warm for a week. 

“Where did you learn to make churros?” I ask him as I sit down at the table.

“My mum taught me” Pedri says, eating one in one go. 

“Did she also teach you the finger thing?” 

“She would hit me with a pan if she saw me do it” he laughs. “But you can't deny it tasted a lot better like that” he smirks.

“Yeah, well” I reply, eating a churro and hoping it can somehow hide my blush. “You can pick up.”

“Uh?”

“Your phone. You can pick up, it's been vibrating for a while.”

“Nah, it's ok. She's probably just calling because I haven't replied to her good morning message.” And with she, he means his girlfriend, Nerea. I saw the name on the screen. “Sometimes she treats me as if I was a kid, constantly asking me if I've eaten or gone to the bathroom.”

“What?” I laugh.

“She's a nursing student and sometimes takes things way too seriously” he shrugs. “Anyway, less talking about her and more about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Inés. Tell me something about you that I don't know” Pedri smiles.

“I… Ummm…” I fancy you very much? Nah, he has probably noticed that already, he isn't stupid. “As a kid I supported Real Madrid.”

“No!” he gasps. 

“Yep. I got into football because of my cousins, and that's the team they support”

“Have you seen the light now?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of? Inés!” he laughs. “You play for Barcelona!”

“And basically everyone in my family who likes football supports Real Madrid, it isn't my fault!” I laugh back. “But we've made a deal, and we only support the men's team.”

“Well, it's something” he chuckles.

“What about you? Which team do you support?”

“I was basically born with a Barça t-shirt on” he smiles before starting to tell me more about his life in Tenerife, both of us sharing anecdotes from our childhood and laughing for what feels like hours. And we actually talk for hours, because when I randomly look up and see the clock on the microwave, it's almost four o'clock.

“Oh, shit” I say, quickly getting up from my chair.

“Everything ok?” Pedri asks me.

“Yes. No. I mean… It's just that my dad is coming to pick me up in half an hour to go visit my grandparents, and I need to shower, get ready, clean all this…” 

“And here I've been entertaining you. I'm so sorry, Inés.”

“What? No, no. I've really enjoyed this.”

“You have?”

“I have” I smile. The part where I was so turned on I was close to explode, included.

“I've also really enjoyed this time together” he smiles back. He… He has enjoyed… being with me. Spending time with me. But obviously just as friends. Though he was ignoring his girlfriend’s calls and texts… No, Inés. Just friends. Don't make the same mistake again. “Why don't I clean around while you get ready?”

“Oh, no, no, no. You are my guest, I can't let you do that.”

“Inés” Pedri says, getting up from his chair and closing the space between us, one of his hands reaching for mine, his touch making me gasp. “You are the one who took care of me last night when you didn't have to, and your kitchen is a mess because of me, because I had the amazing idea of making churros.”

“You did, yes” I chuckle.

“Then let me do this for you. Please.”

“Ok, fine. I can't say no that face.” Because he is pouting. He is pouting those extremely kissable lips of his, and if I have to look at them for any longer, I may end up doing something that I will definitely regret. 

“No one can resist it, I know” he winks. Oh, yes, Pedro. Add a wink to the mix. Kill me a bit more. “Now, you shower, I clean. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal.”

“Then chop chop, Inés” he says, kissing my cheek and starting to tidy up the table while I just stay there, not moving a single muscle. Pedri just kissed my cheek. Not my forehead like before, no. My cheek. “Inés, didn't you hear me? Chop chop!”

“Yes, shower, getting ready.”

“Exactly” he laughs before I leave the kitchen, whatever song he starts whistling getting stuck in my head for the rest of the day.