#but now i'm running quotes in my head

[strangenewwords]

i just remembered frisky dingo was a thing

[helimir]

Some top tier Caduceus quotes I've been thinking about in these Downfall times. Something about how so much of Ludinus' position seems to rest on revenge. Showing Bells Hells the squabbling of the gods as they debate what to do about Aeor, and asking 'You can just watch bad people get away with it?'

It doesn't matter if the gods were wrong for their choices. Killing them won't bring back Aeor and it won't stop the violence that Ludinus and the Ruby Vanguard have visited on the world. I just don't see what it's for.

[incorrect-starbula]

Mantis, sighing: Gamora is so beautiful... Drax: Don't be jealous. You're beautiful too... on the inside, at least. Mantis: I'm not being jealous, Drax. I'm being gay.

[lakemichigans]

day 29 of watching until dawn playthroughs until i pass out

[awxcoffeexno]

ain't gon' ever deserve you

mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot

fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship

summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.

content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.

warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.

you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.

eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.

you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.

"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.

"logan–"

"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.

victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.

you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.

"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.

he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.

"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.

"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.

"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."

he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.

"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.

he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.

"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.

you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."

"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.

how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–

"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."

"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.

you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.

"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."

"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."

"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."

he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.

you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."

"sweetheart..."

"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.

he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.

not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.

"you felt that?"

you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.

"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.

you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.

he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."

that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.

"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.

"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."

you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.

his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.

"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.

despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.

"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."

and that finally makes him crack a smile again.

"y'think so?"

"mhmm."

"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.

he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.

he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.

ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.

"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.

you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.

he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.

logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.

"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."

you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.

you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."

his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."

you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."

you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.

"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."

you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.

"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."

his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.

you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.

you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.

logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.

"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."

his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.

"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"

you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.

you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.

he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."

for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."

you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.

he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.

he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.

you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.

--

this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!

hope you liked this x

love, d <3

--

edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn ��� he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

[mammonsrockstargf]

700 WIVES

contents: solomon x gn!reader, fluff, fluff, fluff, repost

"Is it true that you had 700 wives?"

Solomon looks up from his book to where you're lying on his bed, homework in hand. He'd convinced you to take the class "Rhetoric 101: How to Win Any Argument with an Angel Using Biblical Quotes" because he thought it'd be fun to watch you try to spark up an argument with Simeon. It was a nice perk that you could study together.

It hadn't even occurred to him that he might get mentioned in the coursework. You read over the pages, your eyes brimming with amusement.

"What could you possibly need 700 wives for?" you ask, and he shrugs. "Mostly politics and gaining land," he says, but you don't seem entirely convinced, as the corners of your lips turn upward.

"Might I remind you that this was happening during a period of 80 years?" he says, attempting to somehow save his reputation, but you just raise your brows at him.

"That's still like nine wives per year, though. How on earth did you have time for that?"

You're beginning to laugh now, really laughing, the kind that makes Solomon’s heart pound slightly and he has to fight a smile.

"What, they'd get like a month and a half each before you were on to the next one," you continue, wiping the tears running down your cheeks.

"Actually, I never even met most of them," he says, hoping to help his cause, but it only causes you to laugh even harder.

Solomon huffs and pretends to read his book again, letting your laughter subside. You slowly calm down and pick up your book but once you read the next line of your homework, you're laughing again.

"You had 300 concubines? How is that even possible?" you cackle, and Solomon rolls his eyes.

"That was a rumour. I did not have that many," he says, but you're far gone, clutching your belly as you gasp for air.

"I'll have you know that having a pact with the Avatar of Lust gives you a very high libido–" he begins.

"Oh, trust me, I know," you wheeze. He's on you in a second, pushing you down on the bed, placing a hand on each side of your head. You giggle when he presses kisses to your face, to any surface he can reach, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose.

"Stop," kiss, "teasing," kiss, "me!" kiss, he whines, but you've only just begun.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my lord, it's just that I haven't seen you in three years; you've been so busy with all your wives–"

Solomon shuts you up with a kiss on the lips, and you bury your hands in his hair, leaning into it. Your lips move against each other languidly, as he savors every inch of you, before he pulls away. He lays down on top of you, using your chest as a pillow, refusing to move an inch.

"Sol, you're crushing me," you complain, and he grumbles. He presses a kiss to your collarbone and grabs your homework, throwing it into a corner of his room, before getting comfortable again, this time crushing you a little less. You run your fingers through his hair, humming softly.

You both know that it doesn't actually matter how many wives, concubines, or past lovers he's had. Sometimes Solomon thinks that it's all just been a buildup and that none of it actually mattered.

His real life didn't begin until he met you, and he's completely fine with that.

"Sooo, did you have a favourite? Or perhaps 30 favourites?"

"Oh, shut up."

masterlist | divider by cafekitsune

[marzipanandminutiae]

Dear marzi, for reasons of trying not to give period characters too modern fetishes in my smut, may I have some recs as to where I may find some of that olde fetish content you've previously seen?

On the Wikipedia page for the "corset controversy," unfortunately!

Historians have been taking obvious tightlacing fetish letters seriously for...way too long. And sometimes still are. Confirmation bias is a hell of a thing. Of course, there's no way to 100% tell which letters are fetish fuel and which are real, but generally any that use particularly heightened language or common erotic tropes- or that seem to fly in the face of evidence from extant garments, unedited videos, stock and advertisements from real corset companies, etc. -are to be viewed with suspicion.

(The same is true for letters used now to claim that nipple piercing was a real Victorian trend- for, indeed, the only source is anonymous magazine letters and many of them fall into the same obvious patterns as the tightlacing letters. One DOES describe the alleged process in detail...but it's basically the same as the process for ear-piercing, a service jewelers did commonly offer back then. Just applied to nipples. So whether it's real or not is still uncertain, but it's highly doubtful that large numbers of Victorian women were running around with nipple piercings given that no extant nipple rings have been found, such piercings are never mentioned in letters or diaries or other more concrete sources, etc.)

Besides that, I've seen glimpses of most modern fetishes in various sources:

the Psychopathia Sexualis, a medical manual of "sexual mental illness" (in heavy quotes because things like homosexuality and gender variance are mentioned under that heading), talks about everything from a fetish for tight boots and gloves on women, to bloodplay (initiated by a woman, actually, who wanted to drink her husband's blood), to force-femming, to some very elaborate femdom scenarios that I hope the sex workers in question were paid well for. Of course, since the cases are anonymous, these are also difficult to confirm- but clearly someone had THOUGHT of them, since they're written into the book.

And I've seen at least some of them in other sources, too, including some of the magazines that published the nipple piercing and tightlacing letters. The Englishwomen's Domestic Magazine was notorious for its letters on tightlacing, tight gloves, spanking, etc.

Photographic porn was definitely a thing almost as soon as photography came into being. A lot of it is pretty vanilla, but I could swear I'd seen piss kink photos (with urine painted in after development) before the blog where they were hosted went defunct

James Joyce's letters to his wife get into farting and scat fetish territory. Yes, really.

Speaking of letters, there was one man living here in Boston who, in the late 19th century, wrote letters to his wife describing erotic dreams of her as a giantess who pissed on him and then ate him. I cannot remember his name and it's going to drive me insane all day, but he was the head of Boston's censorship organization, the Watch and Ward society and these letters were first released by his own children for an unauthorized biography written five years after his death. Guess there was little love lost there.

BDSM is old. Like, really old. Old, to quote the sacred texts, as balls. I'm pretty sure there are sexual flagellation texts going back to the Renaissance, but don't quote me on that.

Basically, Rule 34 can be back-applied, too. If it existed, there was a fetish for it, probably. Of course, things that specifically involve modern technology or properties are out, but beyond that...the sky is the limit

[veinsfullofstars]

At least he owns up to it.

(ID: Kirby series fanart comic of Ribbon hanging out with Dark Meta Knight and offering some criticism regarding his attitude, based on this incorrect quote. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)

Anything to draw more Wave 2 shenanigans. Thanks once again to @incorrect-star-allies for the inspo (seriously, reading these silly quotes always makes my day - if chronic fatigue wasn’t a thing, I’d be making so much more fanart for the things you post, haha.)

UPDATE: Added highlights 'cause I'm a dingus and forgot to add them before I posted.

Started 05/04/24, finished 05/10/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24.

---

Transcript:

Panel 1

*Ribbon centered in frame from her midsection up, turned 3/4 towards our left, eyes shut and a hand held palm up as she speaks.*

R: Dark Meta Knight is not a morning person.

Panel 2

*Ribbon turns the opposite way, glancing towards our right with one brow furrowed, tapping her chin pensively with her other hand.*

R: Or a night person.

Panel 3

*Shot pans back to show Ribbon sitting on top of DMK’s head, leaning forward slightly to watch as he sits on the floor and hunches over a sharpening block, running the edge of a combat knife along the well-used stone.*

R: There’s really only about seven minutes a day that you’re fun to be around.

Panel 4

*DMK finishes his sharpening and sits up to inspect the blade, one eye shut, running a thumb along the now sparkling edge. Ribbon - not expecting the movement - starts to tumble backwards off his head, her eyes wide and pupils shrunk, arms and legs and wings spread out in surprise.*

DMK: The best part is you never know when they’re coming.

[dearest-tobio]

"no."

you and oikawa's synchronicity to iwaizumi's announcement only upped the brewing discomfort. iwaizumi responded with a shrug, unconcerned to the damning fate he just signed you off to.

"sorry guys. makki misbooked. you're just going to have to share a room."

"with him?" you exclaimed, ignoring the petulant, whiny protests that escaped oikawa's lips. "iwa, you know that i'd be more than happy to share a room. that's not what this is about. what this is about is partnering me up with the devil incarnate himself."

"hey!" oikawa interjected. "first things first, i'm borderline angelic. second things second, you can't possibly pair me up with—" oikawa took the pause to gesture to you, further exaggerating the displeasure on his features.

iwaizumi sighed, his intentions of staying as far away as possible the conflict apparent on his face. "it's just one night, you two. we'll get separate rooms tomorrow."

"but—stop copying me!”

“you’re the one who’s been copying me. you stop—"

"enough!"

the piercing finality in iwaizumi's voice adjourned your bickering, and you watched as seijoh's ace pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"one night. don't let me catch you all entangled up in each other tomorrow and saying things like, 'never mind. we prefer sharing.'"

"i won't," oikawa declared, pride dripping from his words. "don't know about my partner over here, though. just might finally fall for my charm."

"in your dreams, shittykawa."

and now here you both were, laying by each other in the same bed.

you had constructed a makeshift wall to avoid the situation that iwaizumi had described earlier, and oikawa had followed suit. running down the middle of the mattress was a haphazard arrangement of pillows, effectively separating you from the setter.

despite the barrier, you knew that oikawa was still awake. he was shifting and shuffling in the sheets, a sign that he was as devoid of sleep as you were.

"can't sleep?"

the silence that came after was imperceptibly awkward: maybe oikawa was asleep after all, maybe he's just someone who moves around a lot when he sleeps—

"yeah."

“me too,” you replied. “i miss my own bed back home.”

oikawa’s laugh chimed through the chilly night air. “same here,” he admitted. “i don’t go out of town a lot for the sole reason that most hotel beds aren’t comfortable enough.”

preparing for the settle back to quiet, you were more than surprised to hear oikawa’s next words. “why do you hate me so much?”

“hate? you think i hate you?”

“well,” oikawa resumed, “we do argue a lot. over the silliest things. you get along ok with makki, mattsun, iwa. just not me. so yeah, i think you hate me.”

you glanced at your fingers, hoping that the nerves in your system didn’t manifest in the deep breath you took. “i don’t hate you, oikawa. you’re just annoying sometimes, that’s all.”

"what am i on other times?”

“hm? what do you mean?”

“if i’m annoying sometimes, what am i on other times?”

it was your turn to break out in laughter, the jubilance contrasting sharply with the late hour. “i don’t know. haven’t thought about it.”

“oh come on,” oikawa prodded, and you could already picture the smile tugging up at the corner of his lips. “entertain me. might help me sleep earlier.”

“ok.” he’ll forget about it in the morning. “i think you’re charming when you want to be. funny. not that bad looking. amazing at volleyball.”

“so you think i’m, and i quote, ‘not that bad looking’, hm?”

you groaned, rolling your eyes at the ceiling. “out of all the things i mentioned, you choose to focus on the one about your looks? typical.”

oikawa chuckles, and you found yourself following suit. a comfortable silence resides between the two of you: peace, at last. 

you turn your head to see oikawa peek under a pillow in the wall you’ve constructed, his chocolate eyes blinking with a smile. “good night.”

“good night,” you whisper back, brimming like a child with newfound secrets.

the morning after, iwaizumi, matsukawa and hanamaki discovers you entangled with oikawa. pillow partition long forgotten, you laid your head on oikawa’s chest, while his hand was delicately positioned on the small of your back.

matsukawa manages a knowing smirk, hanamaki returning it with a version of his own as he immortalises the scene with his phone. meanwhile, iwaizumi shakes his head, recalling the dramatics of the previous day.

"look at these two idiots. 'don’t want to share a room’, my ass.”

masterlist

[deadhands69]

Something More [epilogue]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn afab reader

MDNI

Here's an epilogue for Something More, if you're not up for all eight parts before this - it still holds up as a short one-shot.

Warnings, etc: previously fuckboy!bakugo, now husband!bakugo, oral (f receiving), swearing.

part 1  -  part 2  -  part 3  -  part 4 -  part 5  -  part 6  -  part 7  -  part 8 

There are pros and cons to being married to Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite (or Dynamite, as he had been going by since opening his own agency.) The good far outweighing the bad: he has spent the past eight years of being with you, trying to be the absolute best partner you could ever have. He cares so deeply. He's smart, funny, and organized. A thoughtful gift-giver. A great cook. Massively supportive of you. Oh, and he's fucking hot. The list could go on for days.

One issue/ Fairly frequently, the media attacks your relationship with him. It's usually at a time when he's already down, having made a mistake or snapped on a civilian in a viral video. Sometimes they'll question you about his personality at home. More often, they bring in girls he slept with in college and imply he's not relationship-material. It used to catch you off-guard but by now, you can predict it.

Yesterday Katsuki yelled at some reporters to "fucking jump already," when they blocked his car on a bridge. Today you had an interview. Perfect timing.

"How'd it go?" your husband yells towards the entryway as soon as he hears the door softly shut. His blonde hair pokes out from under the hood of his sweatshirt; by the looks of it he hasn't moved from the couch since this morning. After the incident, his PR team forced him to take a mandatory four day break "while the dust settles." It's day two and he's handled it as well as expected.

"You know how it went, it was a fucking disaster," you laugh, dropping onto the cushion next to him.

"Told ya you didn't have to go," he grumbled into your shoulder, engulfing you in his arms. "You could've stayed home with me."

"It's on in a minute," you say, reaching for the remote.

"Ughhhhh, I don't wanna watch this," he complains but makes no move to change the channel.

"It'll be fine, I promise." Reassuringly, you run your fingers through his hair while he lays his head in your lap. He grunts in response.

You watch yourself walk out and take a seat across from the host. The lights and colors looking bright on your massive TV compared to the muted decor of your living room. No matter how loud the volume is, you both prefer watching everything with subtitles.

Interviewer [Hi, and welcome to Echo! The number 8 pro hero!] You [Thanks, happy to be here.] [crowd applauds] Interviewer [We're happy to have you! Now, our friend here is married to the controversial number 2 pro hero - Dynamite.] You [Happily married, yeah. But I'm really not here to talk about my husband. Do you have any questions for me?] Interviewer [Of course, all in good time! First, we have some spicy new information to debut to our studio audience on the explosive hero's previous love life.]

You watch yourself roll your eyes on screen, knowing "previous love life" is a pretty strong term for Katsuki considering that he'd never had an actual relationship prior to you. He stirs nervously on your lap.

"I hate when you have to deal with this shit," he mutters.

"Just watch," you whisper, kissing his forehead before returning your eyes to what you know is about to unfold in front of you. Bakugo tenses as the screen continues flashing quotes from various girls he slept with in mid to late college. They're just trying to get a rise out of you.

Interviewer [So, Echo. What do you make of all this?] You [What do you want me to say, your 'spicy new' news is from nearly a decade ago.] Interviewer [This is the person you married. That can't feel great, can it? To go home to - this?]

The TV host is gesturing wildly towards the quotes still displayed on the projectors above you. Her face is set in a disgusted scowl. This is in stark contrast to you, slouched in your seat looking mildly amused by the reaction. If you're already here, you might as well have some fun with it.

You [Are you trying to sl** -crowd gasps- shame my husband? I know who I go home to and I'm not going to sit here while you reduce him to who he's slept with. He's an amazing hero and he's saved thousands of lives since then, why don't you ever talk about that?]

Katsuki exhales the breath he'd been holding since the interview started. His shoulders slump forward, relaxed. The corner of his mouth turned slightly up in a smile. You're so busy staring at his beautiful face, you miss the interviewer asking you a personal question about your sex life, looking up only to see yourself walking off the stage. A muffled "I'm fucking done," can be heard as you're tearing the clipped microphone from your jacket and push past your manager.

Sitting up, Katsuki turns the TV off and rubs the messy blonde hair from his face.

"That could've been worse," he smirks at you before leaning in to murmur into your ear, "happy I still get to be your slut."

Your breath catches in your throat. He's never said anything like that but still knew the affect it would have on you. Immediately, you're gripping his sweatshirt and shoving your lips into his. He helps take your uncomfortable interview clothes off, his sweatshirt and gym shorts sliding off easily.

Briefly, he pulls you to his mouth in a passionate kiss before pushing you back to lay against the arm of the couch. His spiky hair tickles the insides of your legs as he lowers himself between them. After a few light kisses, he firmly presses his tongue into you. Spreading you with his fingers before licking up and down your slit. Ruby eyes stare up at you as he slides his middle finger in, knowing exactly how you like to be touched. His mouth returns to nip lightly at your clit between flicks of his tongue. Adding another finger, he speeds up his movements.

In what feels like no time at all, you find yourself clenching around him inside of you. Thighs pressed into his ears as you grip a handful of his hair, moaning as much of his name as you can get out. The pressure builds and releases just as intensely.

"F-fuck-k," you sigh over the nearly splashing sound of his fingers thrusting into you. Eventually, he slows and you lighten your grasp on his scalp.

Kissing his way up your body, he comes to rest just under your jaw.

"Have time for more?" he asks, insatiably nipping your neck.

"About that. My PR team also put me on a two day leave after the interview. So, it looks like you'll be stuck with me for a few days."

"Perfect," he smiles at you lovingly before kissing you deeply again.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!!

m.list

Taglist: @anonymity-222 @k1tk4tkatsuki @arsonfrogger @dragonscribble @kalulakunundrum

@screaming-dough @rikislove @gold24fish @ita606 @arc6021

@pikachuzhc @jeanbabygirl @nemisimp

[wonybaee]

| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | My love, forever ahn yujin x f!reader

-> warnings: kissing, bitchy waitress, girlies are lovesick, idk why they broke up?? this is from that poll btw:)

☆☆☆

You had work today, so you expected an alarm to wake you up from your dreams, a normal alarm, not the one with your ex-girlfriends face popping up on your phone screen, the alarm screaming “Wake up! It's your 3rd year anniversary with your pretty girlfriend!”

Yeah, hearing it now, after a few months of setting up that alarm, did sound cringe.

I mean, it would sound cringe, your ex-girlfriend yujin, did make you set that alarm up before you two broke up.

Anyways, forgetting that, before you get sentimental and shit.

You groaned, stretching your limbs hearing a loud crack, “ouch,  mei, I think your mamas getting old.”

You chuckled, looking over at your dog that was sprawled out on her little dog bed, “you probably think I'm dumb, but i know you understand me, so, i'll still talk to you.”

Getting out of your bed, you slipped your feet into the slippers that were placed by your bed and went straight to fetch mei her dog food, she always comes first, well, more likely, if you went to the bathroom, she would not make you relax, barking your ear off, so you decided to do the right thing.

After getting her food, water and petting for a while, she rolled over and went straight back to sleep.

You smiled, you have had mei for quite a while now, you and yujin got her at the start of your relationship, yujin said and you quote “in case we ever break up, which i doubt, one of us gets to keep her to think about the other!”

“But what about one of us that doesn't get to keep the dog?” you asked, “well, i didn't think about that,” yujin smiled sheepishly, “then let's get two dogs, what do you think?” you tilted your head, “woah! That's actually smart!” and you both broke out in fit of giggles.

And that's how you got two dogs, mei that you got to keep, and gaeul, that yujin got to keep.

Gosh, did that alarm got to your head that much or why were you suddenly thinking about your memories with yujin?!

You shook your head, pushing the thoughts of yujin and how happy you two were together away, getting up to get ready for work.

☆☆☆

You were walking mei around the park, you had just gotten off work and decide to take her on a walk, it would make you relax after a long day too, so, you took her leash and went out.

“Mei, shouldn't we sit down? My legs are killing me,” you whined out, like she could actually hear you.

Nevertheless, you took a little blanket out of your backpack, spreading it out on the grass, taking a seat.

“Let me get this thing off of you, so you can go run around for a while,” you took off her leash, and mei like she had been held hostage all this time, started running around like crazy, running up to people making them pet her.

You just laughed whole-heartedly, taking out your phone to film her.

After filming her for quite a while, you shut your phone off, dropping it inside your bag and instead taking out a pack of cigarettes and lighter, lighting it up and popping it inside your mouth.

When you looked up, mei was nowhere to be found, you got up in panic, picking up your things, running around, searching for her.

After finally spotting her next to a woman with her own dog, you quickly run up to them.

“Oh my gosh, mei, you scared the living shit outta me,” you fell to your knees, picking her up and hugging her tightly against your chest, “I'm sorry, she doesn't usually run up to people like that, i don't know, why-"

“I guess she just recognised me,” the woman's words made you stop in your tracks, “wow, it hasn't even been that long, and you already forgot me?”

Her teasing tone made you realize who you were talking to, and why mei, when she never does, ran like crazy to this mysterious, well, not anymore, since you figured out that the person was yujin.

“Oh, um, no i didn't forget you, just, didn't see your face,” you tried to reason.

“I didn't knew you still smoked,” she ignored what you said and changed the topic.

“Yeah, only once in a while,” you realized you still had cigarette in your mouth, so you took a big whiff before throwing it down on the pavement and smashing it with your foot.

“Good to hear,” she smiled, “see you around?”

“Yeah, of course, totally, most definitely...see you around,” you slapped yourself mentally, what the fuck?! Great, now you embarrassed yourself in front of her.

She just chuckled at your red cheeks, “cute,” she mumbled under her breath, hoping that you would still hear.

And you did, just tried to play it off.

With last nod towards your way, she turned around, tugging gaeul with her leash, that you just now noticed, was rubbing against your leg.

“Aw, gaeul, I'm sorry baby, i just noticed you,” you cooed, bending down to pet her, “how are you?”

Gaeul rolled onto her back, her paws flying in every direction, “she still likes your rubs so much,” yujin pointed it out.

“Yeah,” you dragged out, “you know, i was thinking, since we haven't seen each other for this past few months, what do you think about catching up over some coffee?”

You looked at her with a hopeful glint in your eyes, but her face told it all, “it doesn't have to be like a date, just two old friends catching up?”

“Y/n, i didn't even think of it as a date,” ouch, that hurt, “i knew what you meant, and yeah, I would like to catch up on with you over a cup of coffee.”

“Great, tomorrow around...” you looked down at your watch, calculating the time, “three p.m. is good for you?”

“Perfect actually, i get off work around two, so, I'll have enough time to get pretty for you.” She winked, before finally leaving.

“Mei, i don't like to brag, but i think we're about to get your mom and sister back,” you smirked, looking at yujin's figure that was almost out of sight.

☆☆☆

“Mei, baby, i have to leave you with your grandma today,” you stared at yourself in the mirror, adding final touches to your makeup and hair, “the mission “get mei’s mom and sister back", can only be done by me, you'll have to sit this one out.”

You scratched her head, walking towards and out the door.

Walking in the cafe, you looked around for the empty table to occupy for you and yujin.

“Hello, would you like anything?” the waitress came over, a girl with blonde, no, yellow hair, twirling it between her fingers.

“No, thanks, I-" she cut you off, okay, rude.

“Are you waiting for someone?” she put her hands down on the table, putting her whole weigh on them.

“Yes, i am, actually, so i would appreciate if you'd get back to your job, and act like a professional,” she straightened up her posture, a scowl attached to her face, “thank you, now, i would like a glass of water, before-"

“Actually, we'd like two cups of coffee,” yujin stepped out from behind the waitress, motioning her to get out of her way, “thanks.”

She flashed her a fake smile, “your coffee will be out in a few,” and walked off.

“Gosh, what a pain in the ass,” you groaned out, looking at yujin from head to toe, gosh, she looks beautiful.

Yujin's face went red, fiddling with the hem of her dress, before she took a seat in front of you.

“You said it out loud, you know,” she tried to stop her smile from forming.

“So? Did i lie?” you tilted your head to the side, small smirk making it's way on your lips, at the sight of her red as a tomato cheeks.

“Stop, you're making me blush,” she put her face in her hands, embarrassed to look up.

“Payback for making me blush yesterday,” you murmured under your breath, yujin missing it in a beat.

“What did you say?” she asked, finally straightening up.

“I said, you look even prettier with red cheeks,” you winced loudly, when she slapped you on the arm, very aggressively.

“Seriously, stop, i can't take it anymore,” she whined, unknowingly pout making it's way on her lips.

“Come on, I'm tryna win you back here, have some faith,” you suddenly stopped at your own words, shutting your eyes tightly, “I'm sorry-"

“It's okay, I dressed up for you anyway, hoping to win you back with my prettiness,” both of you broke out in fit of giggles, and you coffee arrived.

☆☆☆

“I miss talking to you,” yujin smiled sadly, looking down.

“I miss being with you, so, yeah,” there was a few seconds of silence, before that waitress broke it again.

“Your check,” she slammed it down on the table, waiting for one of you to pay, so you took out your wallet, paying before both you and yujin got up, leaving the cafe.

☆☆☆

You and yujin were walking side by side, you decided to walk her home, even though thousands of protests from her, you wanted to make this moment last even longer.

“Since when was your house this close?” you asked, staring up at the big apartment building.

“I don't know,” she let out a small giggle, “you can come-"

You didn't let her finish, crashing your lips against hers, her lips felt like soft, fluffy pillows against your own.

You two stayed like that for a few seconds, eyes shut, just lips pressed against each others, not moving an inch, before you finally pulled back.

“I don't-" “I want to get back together.”

“You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words from-" she didn't let you finish, pressing up against you, clashing her mouth against your owns.

Mei, i don't like bragging, but i thin the mission “get mei's mom and sister back" was a total success.

☆☆☆

[flamingpudding]

All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with

To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie

She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures

She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate

She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting

Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed

When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits

Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him

Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad

This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry

Oh I love this! Thanks you!

This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~

----------------------------------

Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"

Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.

Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"

Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"

"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.

"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.

"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."

Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"

"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.

"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.

"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"

The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.

"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.

"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.

"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.

"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."

"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.

"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"

"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.

"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.

"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."

"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."

"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.

The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."

The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.

On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.

"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.

Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"

"Lassie..."

"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.

Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"

"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.

"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"

"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.

The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."

"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.

"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.

"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.

"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."

There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.

The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.

Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#678 Godparents

Leona and Yuu are Cheka's Godparents...Leona made it official once you two started to date, which now...has Cheka calling you both his 2nd parents-...which has funny consequences-

Leona*Glued to the window, Seeing His Nephew running out of the house his own summer home to...his new friend who is a girl....who came to pick him up in a bike that looks like a motorcycle*...Alright, I'm not liking that...

Yuu*Beside him rubbing his back*P-pfft~

Leona*Squinting eyes and frowns*...Im really not liking that SHIT-she coming to pick him up motorcycle?...My queen I'm not...isn't he too fuckin young to have a girlfriend-*Sees his little nephew gets behind his friend on her bike and slams his forehead on the window*...FUCK MY LIFE-

Yuu*Having a giggle fit and tenderly giving him head pats also seeing him ride off*-He's GOOONE~

Leona*Silent whimper as he sees him off*....*Grabs his phone and calls someone*...Code Red,I repeat code red-

Yuu:..Honey, who are you cal-

Ruggie*Who crashed into the floor as he opened the door entrance*...Im here for my favorite crotched gremlin-

Yuu:...Now im scared to think what will be your reaction to our other child...

Leona:...Yuu we dont have another child aside grim and che-

Yuu*Smilling holding little pink booties*... surprise?~

Leona:...-FAINTS-

The biggest joke in life is Leona didnt want kids...and now legally...has three-...and now ruggie is the cool unca he was destined to be-