#could start another side blog but too lazy

[finelinefae]

the regretful man

part 2 of the other woman

synopsis: harry is the regretful man who just needs to be loved

word count: 4.9k

contains: angst, smut?? if u could even call it that? (p in v, one night stand), smoking, mentions of alcohol

a/n: from me to you! happy new year !

. . .

Harry stood at the end of the aisle as people gathered to stand in the pews of the small church. Quiet chatter fell upon the families as they sat on opposite sides, eagerly awaiting for the ceremony to begin. He had double-checked the pockets of his suit to ensure he had everything with him to go perfectly. 

The best man nodded his head at the officiate who raised his hand and asked for everybody to stand. Harry got into position as the piano began to play a gentle melody and the doors to the church opened. 

In walked the bride with her arm looped with her father’s. Harry turned to face them both, capturing the sight of the families whose eyes were shining with tears and proud smiles. He held the camera to his eye and snapped a few shots of the bride before turning towards the groom who no longer looked nervous but relieved at the site of the woman he was going to marry.

Harry had lost count of the number of weddings he had photographed since leaving University ten years ago. He was thirty one now and over the years he had found himself enthralled in the world of wedding photography after setting up his own studio. 

It wasn’t the career he had imagined for himself when he was an art student all those years ago. He had all these plans to be much bigger, more creative and artistically free, but fear became the better of him and he opted for the safer route - the one that kept a roof over his head. 

As much as Harry’s job made other people happy, he couldn’t seem to find that happiness in himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt proud or fulfilled by the photographs he had taken. They’d become much too formulaic, people hired him because they liked his style and wanted it for themselves and he was beginning to grow tired of it.

After every wedding he promised himself he would move on to something new whatever that meant. Maybe he’d travel and start a blog or try and get into the fashion industry. Yet after every wedding, he’d find himself trapped in another and then another, until his ambitions of achieving something new were nothing but tiny dots in the distance. 

Maybe this was where he was meant to be. 

Taking pictures of love when the irony was he had never felt true love himself. 

He sighed when the picture he took of the exchanging of the rings turned out blurry, quickly snapping a lazy shot once more to Photoshop later. 

. . . 

Although Harry had slowly fallen out of love with his passion for photography, there was no denying that the perks of an open bar were high on the list of benefits he received in his line of work. 

The reception was loud and crowded, more people had arrived and filled up the marquet that was decorated with fairylights and a dance floor in the middle. Harry was a frequent visitor to the bar where they were serving wedding-themed cocktails that he had tested each one for himself. 

His camera hung heavily around his neck. Occasionally, he would peek through the viewfinder to observe people and guess what they were up to—a game he enjoyed when the reception got too rowdy. If the mood struck him, he often didn't mind going home with someone or spending the night in their hotel room nearby. 

Harry hadn’t been in a committed relationship for longer than a year. His longest standing girlfriend was his most recent ex who left him to move to Thailand with a group of people she had met. He wondered if it was his fault that people wouldn’t stay. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

He wasn’t even sure if he had been in love or what it was supposed to feel like. He had been told by most people that love was a craving, a longing to have a certain somebody close by even if it was just to be in their proximity. When people would ask him if he had ever felt that way he’d always say no but then a unsettling feeling weighed heavy on the back of his mind and memories of a certain someone would appear unwarranted. 

His eyes roamed the room until they settled on one of the bridesmaids who had been flirting with him ever since he photographed them getting ready that morning. She was stunning, with long legs and flowing blonde hair. May as well, Harry thought, as he made his way toward her, watching as her throat bobbed and she flattened her hair when she caught him sifting through the crowd towards her. 

“Hey,” Harry spoke, his voice coming out low. 

“Hi,” She replied, shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“M Harry,” He introduced.

“I’m-”

“Lauren, I got you a coke but I can’t remember which one has vodka in it,” A voice appeared and a person holding two cokes in his hand came up to them. 

“Ollie,” Lauren blushed taking one of the glasses, “You know I can’t drink.” 

“I know,” Ollie shrugged, “Let me try them both and I’ll tell you which one is yours.”

Harry frowned, “Why can’t you drink?” He hoped it wasn’t for the reason he was thinking otherwise he’d have to think up a new escape plan. 

“Oh I’m a model,” Lauren replied, “I can’t drink when I’m working.”

“This one’s yours,” Ollie handed her the coke with ice and a lemon floating inside it.

“Are you sure?” Lauren double checked before taking a sip and realising he was telling the truth. 

Ollie glanced at Harry, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open. “Harry?” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Do we know each other?”

Ollie nodded, “We went to University together, you came to my birthday party that one time remember?”

Harry froze. The muscles in his body tensed as fragments of memories he had spent a long time trying to forget began to resurface. It was a deep wound that hadn’t ever had a chance to heal and seeing Ollie standing in front of him after years of never seeing anyone from his uni days had opened the old wound up again.

“Of course,” Harry coughed, discomfort prickling his skin. He watched as Ollie’s eyes darted around the room, as if searching for someone. Seizing the moment, Harry quickly turned to Lauren. “I better get going.”

Lauren frowned, disheartened by his words. “Already? Don’t you want to stay and have a drink?”

Harry shook his head. “I think the bride’s parents are still waiting for their picture to be taken.” It was a lie, but it gave him the escape he needed. He made a swift exit before Ollie could divert his attention back to him.

Outside the tent, Harry exhaled, feeling the fresh, open air on his face. He reached into the inside pocket of his blazer, pulled out a cigarette, and cupped the end to light it. Taking a few drags, he shut his eyes, letting the smoke and the cool evening air calm his nerves.

The flicker of the lighter's flame had drawn a brief, warm glow on his face. As he leaned against a brick wall, Harry's thoughts raced back to the encounter with Ollie. The unease hadn't left him; it gnawed at the edges of his mind.

He inhaled deeply, savouring the nicotine rush, and then exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the night. 

Footsteps bristled through the grass as someone walked beside him, “Mind if I use your lighter?” 

Harry froze, breath caught in his chest. The voice resonated with a haunting familiarity, like a whisper carried through the corridors of time. It stirred something deep within him, a forgotten tremor of emotion that had long been buried. For the first time in years, his heart stirred—a hesitant, stuttering beat, as if waking from a long slumber at the sound of someone in a past life he had tried to let go of.

A part of him recoiled, resisting the urge to meet the eyes he had spent so many years trying to erase from memory. But a deeper, more insistent part of him ached for revival, for the spark that only those eyes could ignite. Slowly, his head turned and he found himself captured in her gaze. Time fractured, spilling moments both painful and precious into the present. The world around him fell away, reduced to the space between them. In those eyes, he hoped to see the way she used to look at him - like he was actually worth something but there was nothing of the sort. Whatever she was feeling, she had learnt to shield. The ache in his chest tightened, raw and overwhelming. 

She wore a black, off-the-shoulder dress that clung to her figure, His gaze lingered on her collarbones, sharp and delicate, and memories surged back with startling clarity. He recalled the warmth of her skin under his lips, the way she shivered as he traced tender kisses along her chest. The memory was so vivid it burned. 

“Y-You smoke?” were the first words he spoke. Not hello, not how are you? Not how have you been? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you okay? I miss you—do you have a boyfriend? 

“Not really,” She shrugs, “I just like the smell.” 

The silence was palpable. Years of not knowing each other meant Harry had no clue how to start a conversation. His suave and charisma that he used with all the women he encountered had left him, she had rattled his bones, awoken the sleeping soul within his body. How was he meant to begin a conversation with a woman who had the power to do that to him?

“How have you been?” She asked. 

He was startled by the question, it was unexpected and he wondered if she really cared. After all, the way he had left her in the bathroom at the birthday party had been his biggest regret. He could still remember the heartbreak on her face as he left her. 

She scoffs, “I loved you once before Harry, do you honestly think I wouldn’t at least ask you how you were?” 

He didn’t think that, he actually thought she wouldn’t remember him at all. He was a shitty person but there was nothing new about that. 

“I’m okay,” He said, unconvincing. “I feel slightly unprepared. I wasn’t expecting to see you here or ever.”

“Do you need to be prepared to speak to me?” Y/N seemed to find that amusing, the slight tilt of her head and the hint of a smirk made his heart skip. 

“Never,” He whispered. He never had to be prepared to speak to her because he was entirely himself whenever he was around her. 

“I saw you at the wedding. Congratulations on the business by the way.”

“Yeah thanks.” He said, “It’s been good. Busy. You know how it is. How about you?” 

“I’m an art teacher at a high school.” Harry nodded catching the look of pride on her face. Flashbacks of being in the same class as her and watching her paint. Despite having slept together and seeing her naked, he had never seen her more vulnerable than when she was painting. “It’s not a lot but I love it.”

“That’s what matters right?” Harry said, feeling like a hypocrite when his life was full of things he did just because he had to. 

“It’s definitely a change from my university days,” she said with a chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ear. “God, I’m actually embarrassed thinking back. I was a train wreck.”

“I didn’t think so,” Harry blurted out, too quickly, his voice tripping over itself. “I—I mean—”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk creeping back, though this time it was softer, almost fond. “Really? You were around for most of my breakdowns. I actually feel like I should apologise.”

“Don’t,” Harry said firmly, meeting her eyes. “You don’t need to apologise for anything.”

Her expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something quieter. “Are you staying at the hotel next door?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, shifting slightly. “Third floor.”

“We’re on the first,” she said casually, though Harry caught the faintest pause in her tone. “It was the last room they had available.”

He stilled.

We.

His mind tripped over the word, echoing it back to him louder and louder. We. We. There was a we?

Of course there was. How could there not be? She was stunning, even more so now than when they were younger. Her skin seemed to glow, her cheeks were fuller, her eyes brighter. She looked healthy. Happy. And the thought of someone else seeing her like this—touching her, laughing with her the way he used to—made his chest feel tight, like something inside him was splintering.

“Ollie and I had to go halves,” she said, breaking through his spiralling thoughts. “He actually sewed this dress we found at a thrift store, and I bedazzled the flower on his suit.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped before he could stop himself, the tension ebbing away like a tide receding. He hoped to God she didn’t notice the relief that must’ve been plain on his face when she mentioned Ollie. Not a boyfriend. Not a lover. Just Ollie.

“It’s good to see you two are still friends,” Harry spoke. 

“What about you? Are you here with anyone?” He noticed the way her collarbones tensed like she was holding her breath as she waited for his reply.

“No,” He confessed, “I’m alone.” He said, the word carrying more than she had asked for. 

The air was heavy and quiet, the faint glow of the cigarette casting soft shadows as the smoke curled lazily around them. Y/N took one last drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground near his feet, her movements sharp and deliberate. When she turned to face him, her tear-streaked face caught him off guard.

“I thought I would hate seeing you,” she said, her voice breaking.

Harry stood frozen, words sticking in his throat.

“But suddenly…” she continued, her voice trembling as fresh tears fell, “I feel like I’m twenty years old again. And you were... really mean to me, Harry.”

His chest tightened at her words, at the raw vulnerability in her tone. His eyes softened as he stepped closer. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy with regret. “Hey, I know.”

Her shoulders shook, the sobs overtaking her, and without hesitation, Harry pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly, as though holding her might somehow take away the weight of all the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his cheek against her hair. His own eyes burned, the threat of tears rising to the surface. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but now it felt inevitable. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—not the way I did. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t respond, but her grip on his shirt tightened as her tears soaked through the fabric. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. He just held her, letting her cry, letting her feel whatever she needed to feel.

He thought to himself if there would ever come a day where he wouldn’t be the cause of her pain. 

Eventually, her sobs quieted, leaving only the sound of her steadying breaths and the faint rustle of the wind around them. Y/N pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her eyes red-rimmed. Her fingers stayed curled in his shirt.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she said with a shaky laugh, brushing at her cheeks. “It’s been so long, and I told myself I was over it. Over you.”

Harry’s hands stayed on her waist, his touch firm but gentle. “You don’t have to explain,” he murmured. “I get it.”

She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “No, you don’t. You don’t get how much it hurt, Harry. You have no idea what it feels like having the one person you loved leave you.” 

“I do,” he said, his voice firm now, his eyes searching hers. “I do, Y/N. And I hate myself for it. Every single day, I hate myself for it.”

Her breath hitched at the raw honesty in his tone, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them charged and electric. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, their faces were inches apart. Her eyes flicked to his lips, and he caught the movement, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice trembling but insistent. “Don’t say anything.”

And then she kissed him.

It was sudden and messy, her lips crashing against his with a desperation that mirrored everything she was feeling. Harry didn’t hesitate, his arms tightening around her as he kissed her back just as fervently. The years of distance, the pain, the anger—all of it seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. His hand came up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as his lips moved with hers.

She let out a soft, broken sound, her hands gripping his shirt as though afraid he might disappear if she let go. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it—his regret, his longing, his love.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Her eyes fluttered open, searching his face, and he could see the conflict written across her features.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Neither do I,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Let’s go to your room,” She whispered. 

“A-are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

“One night,” She said, “Just one night.” 

Harry searched her eyes, his breath catching in his throat. He saw the resolve there, mixed with a vulnerability that mirrored his own. For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of what this meant pressing down on him.

But then she nodded, as if to reassure him, and he found himself nodding back. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his heart was pounding like a drum. “Okay.”

She took his hand, her grip firm but trembling slightly, and he let her lead him through the dimly lit courtyard toward the hotel. The air between them buzzed with an unspoken tension, neither of them saying a word as they walked, their footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

He led her to the elevator, the soft chime of the doors opening breaking the silence. They stepped in, the small space suddenly feeling suffocating as the weight of what they were about to do settled over them. Harry’s thumb brushed against her hand absentmindedly, grounding himself in the contact.

When the elevator doors finally opened, Harry guided her down the hallway, stopping in front of his room. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the key card from his pocket and slid it into the slot. The door clicked open, and he stepped aside to let her in first.

She walked in, pausing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed loosely as she took it all in. The space was small and unremarkable, a standard hotel room, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Harry closed the door behind him, turning to face her. “Y/N,” he began, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

“One night, Harry,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of determination and fragility. “Just one night. No promises, no expectations. Just... this.”

He swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he nodded. “Just this,” he echoed, stepping closer.

She met him halfway, her hands reaching up to cup his face as their lips met again, this time slower, more deliberate. There was no rush now, no frantic desperation—just the quiet intensity of two people trying to find something they’d lost.

His hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Every touch felt charged, every movement intended, as if they were trying to memorise each other all over again.

Harry pulled back just enough to search her eyes, his thumb brushing against her cheek, as if grounding himself in the moment. “Are you sure?” he asked one last time, his voice rough and unsteady.

Her answer wasn’t in words but in action—swift, certain, and unrelenting. She hooked her hands behind his neck and pulled him down into another kiss. It was messy, all-consuming, the kind of kiss that left no room for hesitation. Their teeth bumped, tongues tangling in a way that was almost desperate, as though both of them were trying to erase years of unspoken longing.

Harry’s hands found the back of her thighs, gripping firmly as he lifted her effortlessly. She gasped into his mouth but didn’t break the kiss, her arms tightening around his shoulders as he carried her toward the bed. The soft thud of her back meeting the mattress sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching as he hovered over her.

Her hands were already tugging at the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against his warm skin as she pulled it upward. He shifted, breaking the kiss just long enough to help her remove it, the fabric landing somewhere on the floor.

Harry’s hand slid to her shoulder, his fingers trailing along the strap of her dress. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to hers for silent permission. She gave him a small nod, and he pushed the strap down slowly, his fingertips grazing her bare skin and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

As her dress began to fall away, her hands roamed over his chest, her nails scraping lightly against his skin. His breath hitched, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to her collarbone, then lower, his movements deliberate but unhurried.

His hand travelled up her thigh, his fingertips brushing against her soft skin, sending shivers through her. He moved with a reverence that made her heart ache—a mix of tenderness and hunger that felt like it might undo her entirely.

His hand slipped lower, finding the edge of her underwear. Gently, he hooked his fingers into the delicate fabric, sliding it down her legs in one fluid motion. He paused, his touch lingering just enough to let her know he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t taking anything for granted. His eyes found hers again, and the unspoken connection between them felt like it might swallow them both whole.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely audible but thick with meaning, before leaning in to kiss her again, his lips brushing hers with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N’s eyes burned with emotion, her chest tightening as she watched him. It had been so long since someone had looked at her the way Harry did, with a mix of tenderness and hunger that made her feel like the only person in the world. She knew he hadn’t always loved her—not the way she’d wanted him to—but in moments like this, she let herself believe he had.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his messy curls, his movements slow and deliberate. The soft clink of his belt buckle echoed in the room as he undid it, placing it aside before reaching into the bedside table for a condom.

Y/N moved closer, her chest pressing warmly against his back. Her lips found his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there, lingering just long enough to make him pause. She felt him still under her touch, his breathing deepening as he tore open the foil.

“Remember when I did that for you?” she murmured, her lips brushing against his skin. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the small smile spreading across his lips.

He chuckled softly, a low sound that made her heart ache. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with fondness and something heavier. He turned just enough to kiss the corner of her mouth,

Harry shifted, turning fully to face her, capturing her lips in a full, unhurried kiss. His hands moved to her waist, guiding her back onto the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. For a moment, he just looked at her—her hair splayed out like a halo on the pillow, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss, her chest rising and falling as she pushed her legs apart for him, ready and waiting, like she always did whenever they had sex. Spreading herself open to him. 

His cock slid into her, her eyes squeezing shut, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. He could feel every inch of her around him, all of his senses were overwhelmed by her. They were like two pieces of the same puzzle coming together as he pushed himself all the way inside of her.

Y/N released a shaky breath, her eyes fluttering open, and Harry couldn’t look away. Her gaze sparkled in the soft yellow glow of the hotel room light, and when she reached up to push his curls back and cup his cheek, he leaned into her touch like a man starved. A tear slipped from his eye, unbidden, and she brushed it away with her thumb. 

He began to move, slow and deliberate, his hips rolling with a teasing gentleness that made her lips part. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to stay inside of her forever. He wanted to feel every piece of her forever. 

She writhed beneath him, whimpering and whining and begging for more of him. He would give it all to her, everything she asked of him he would give it all. “Harry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I don’t want to stop,” he murmured into her ear, his voice raw and honest. His chest tightened with the weight of the moment, of the years between them, of the undeniable connection they still shared.

“Then don’t,” she replied, her breath hitching as she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”

. . . 

They lay down flat on their back looking up at the ceiling, sated and empty. Her head was on his chest as he smoked a cigarette. The smell bought them both back to the times he would smoke whenever they had sex. 

"When you walk away tomorrow," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a hint of vulnerability, "you walk away with a piece of me."

Harry paused, the cigarette resting between his fingers as he turned his gaze toward her. His chest tightened at her words, an ache that had nothing to do with the smoke still curling in the air. "I feel like I’ve been walking with you for much longer than you think," he replied quietly. 

She smiled at that but inside he was dying. 

. . . 

A year later, Harry stood in the soft glow of a local art gallery. His photographs adorned the walls, strangers moving among them with quiet murmurs of appreciation. The evening had been surreal—people lingered, commented, and even bought pieces he’d always thought too personal to share.

As the closing hour approached, Harry found himself alone with one particular photograph. It was his favourite, though he’d never admitted that aloud. A pair of beautiful eyes that he had spent a small chunk of his youth watching the world through. The gallery was quieter now, and the chatter of earlier felt like a distant echo. He stared at the image, letting his thoughts dissolve into it.

The click of heels against the polished floor shattered the stillness. He felt the presence beside him before he turned.

“That’s the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever seen,” a voice said, low and familiar.

His heart skipped, his breath catching in his throat.

“Yeah?” His lips twitched, caught between amusement and disbelief. 

“I love it.”

“You do?”

“I adore it.”

“Good.”

He finally turned his head, but the space beside him was empty. He froze, scanning the room, his pulse hammering in his ears. For a moment, he swore he caught the faint smell of paint and lavender in the air.  His head spun in search of them only to find a man standing alone in the room, “Excuse me,” Harry approached, “Did you see a woman walk in?”

The stranger shook his head and turned back to the photos without another word.

Harry’s shoulders sagged under the weight of disappointment. With a quiet sigh, he reached into his suit jacket for his phone to call a taxi. It was the same suit he always wore for work—every wedding, every shoot. The fabric was worn at the elbows, but he didn’t have the time or effort to go out and buy a new one. 

As he pulled the phone free, something slipped from the pocket and fluttered to the floor.

A slip of paper.

Harry blinked, crouching to pick it up. His breath caught as his eyes landed on the words scrawled across it in hurried, looping handwriting: A piece of me.

He flipped it over. A phone number stared back at him.

Harry’s heart raced, each beat echoing in his ears. His hands trembled as he entered the phone number into his phone. He put the number into his phone and typed out the only response he had been desperate to give her in answer to the plea that had haunted him for years. 

I love you.

[loveanddeepthroat]

Hiii :3 not sure if you take requests for the other lads boys, but I love the way youu write and wondered if we could get some Zayne fluff 👉🏽👈🏽 Maybe like start of a relationship and mc gets her period unexpectedly when staying at his and gets super insecure about it and tries to go home but Zayne is concerned about her suddenly wanting to leave and finally gets the reason out of her, but he’s just super helpful and eases her worries. Thank you, love your blog!

The Bare Minimum

Pairing - Zayne x f!MC

Summary - You feel as though your world is ending when a day dedicated to some much needed time with Zayne is ruined by Mother Nature. You're desperate to get home without him noticing, but he was more prepared for this than you expected.

Word Count - 2.7k

Warnings - Multiple mentions of periods and blood.

You weren’t sure what was suddenly bothering you, but you were certain that it was catching Zayne’s attention.

It was one of those extremely rare occasions where both of you had a completely free weekend. No hunting, no surgeries, no plans.

Perfection. 

You were both at the very peak of your designated lazy Saturday—squished together on the recliner chair in his living room, eating takeout and watching the kind of TV shows that didn’t require too much attention. Between your impromptu make out sessions that consistently progressed into you straddling his legs, you weren’t even sure what was playing on the television. 

You were just happy to be with him in such an unusual setting for the both of you. A typical day where you were both blessed with synced schedules would be spent outdoors. Long, scenic walks. Trips to the library to pick up and return a few books. You dragging Zayne around the local mall against his will.

Neither of you were up for any of it this weekend. Your missions for the past few weeks had been exhausting, a few ending in swift trips to Akso for wounds that had looked worse than they had felt. Between Zayne’s concern for you and the demanding nature of his own job, he was feeling rather exhausted, too. He didn’t often indulge in lazy days, but you were pretty sure he just wanted to keep you cocooned in the safety of his home after seeing you injured one too many times.

After your fifth rather raunchy performance on his lap, you were feeling oddly uncomfortable. You put it down to aches and pains due to the exertion of your body recently, but even as you settled back beside him again, tucked under his heavy arm, you could feel the sensation creeping down your thighs and across your back.

It couldn’t possibly be that dreaded time of the month. You had another five days to go before you had to come up with reasons to not stay at his place for a week. Your relationship was still fresh and new, so you weren’t comfortable with the idea of being on your period whilst staying the night. There wasn’t a clear reason why you’d be so conscious about it, it wasn’t as if Zayne would chastise you for your womanly troubles.

For you though, it just felt a little too nerve wracking. Discarding sanitary products in his bathroom wastebasket. The possibility of leaking whilst you’re blissfully unaware in the land of sleep. And the most horrifying of all;

Your cramps.

Mother Nature was never kind to you in the first 24 hours of your cycle. There were many a day and night where you couldn’t unfurl yourself from the foetal position you would so quickly find yourself in. Mood swings, hot flushes, and an need for all things sugary and sweet.

Zayne didn’t need to see that side of you yet. The poor man would wonder where the hell his girlfriend had disappeared to, and why there was an emotional, writhing mess clutching a XXL tub of mint chocolate chip to her chest in her place.

As the minutes went by, you felt all of the familiar warning signs. His arm around you had been soothing and sweet all day, but was starting to feel like a furnace on your skin. The unmistakable feeling of the devil himself twisting your uterus with his bare hands was becoming stronger, and your squirming was drawing attention.

“Would you like me to move?” Zayne finally asked, brows slightly furrowed in your direction.

You had to get away from him. More so, you had to get off of the recliner, worried that if you were bleeding, you might have bled through to it.

Shaking your head quickly, you pulled yourself up to your feet, subtly eyeing the thankfully pristine spot where your ass had been perched all day. “No, of course not,” you reassured with a synthetic smile. “Just have to use the bathroom.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly hurried away before he had the chance. There was no time to waste.

As soon as the lock on the bathroom door clicked, you rushed to check yourself. The sight of fresh blood on the stark white toilet paper made you want to cry immediately. Of all the times for you to get your period five days early, it had to be whilst you were at Zayne’s.

You were at a complete loss on what you could do. You didn’t have any sanitary towels to hand, and your light grey sweatpants had succumbed to a slight stain that he may have already seen.

If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole, it’d be a miracle.

Silent panic turned to tears of frustration. All you could do was wrap a wad of toilet paper around itself to act as a makeshift pad, and steer clear of Zayne. Thankfully, you hadn’t yet unpacked the gym bag you brought for the weekend, so swiftly grabbing it and legging it back to your own apartment should be easy enough.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could and flushed away all evidence of your period, trying to compose yourself whilst you did. The sheer level of agony your cramps were already bestowing upon you had you almost doubling over at the sink as you splashed some cold water onto your face to rid yourself of your tears.

This had to be a nightmare.

A gentle tapping on the bathroom door almost startled a small scream out of you. Zayne’s soothing voice sounded from the hallway, “everything alright in there?”

Things were getting worse and worse by the damn minute. You couldn’t possibly get by him to retrieve your bag without him seeing your ridiculous tears and the evident pain you were in.

“Yeah,” you called out, your shaky voice betraying you.

He remained silent for a moment, clearly not convinced in the slightest. “What’s the matter?”

You weren’t getting away from this. He knew something was up, and he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence. It wasn’t in his nature to just feign ignorance, especially when it came to your health or comfort.

“Nothing,” you called out again, hoping to whichever god was listening that he would just accept your answer.

Another bout of silence hung in the air, like he was trying to figure you out through a closed door. You were beginning to feel like a cornered animal, desperate for a route of escape.

You waited and waited for him to say something else, but you heard absolutely nothing. A small sigh of relief escaped you as you quietly opened the door, only to find him still standing there. You quickly tried to shut it again, but his foot took place in the small gap to stop you.

Not wanting to jam his foot, you gave up, folding your arms around yourself as if they were going to hide you. “I need to go home,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He nudged the door open with his socked foot, still saying nothing. You could feel him analysing you from head to toe. 

He was such a bloody doctor sometimes.

Eventually, he folded his own arms across his chest. “Why do you want to go home?”

“Need to go home,” you corrected, not wanting him to think that you didn’t want to spend the night with him. “I…I have to—”

He cut you off with an outstretched hand, waiting expectantly for you to take it. All you did was stare at it, confused by his intentions. 

Well, you also winced as Mother Nature gave you a swift boot to the abdomen.

“Can you come with me for a moment?” He asked in that gentle tone of his, eyes softening. “Please?”

You took his large hand with a small sigh, not seeing any other way out of this situation. Heat pooled in your cheeks in your sheer embarrassment. 

This wasn’t how your weekend together was supposed to go.

Zayne led you into the bedroom, letting go of your hand once you were both inside. Panic flashed in your mind as you couldn’t think of any reason why he would bring you into the bedroom.

“I really can’t—”

He turned away before you could finish your sentence, heading into the en-suite bathroom and reappearing with a small wicker basket.

You almost gasped at its contents as he approached you again.

Pads and tampons of every shape and size were nestled within, along with painkillers and heating pads for your back. You eyed multipacks of brand new, comfortable underwear in there, too, and some small plastic bags to dispose of your sanitary products.

You weren’t sure if it was just the beginnings of your expected emotional rollercoaster, or the innocent way he was holding it out to you, but you burst into very pathetic, blubbering tears. 

He quickly placed the basket down on the bed, holding your waist with his hands. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, did I get the wrong—”

You quickly shook your head, dragging your forearm across your eyes to diminish your tears. “No. No, I’m sorry,” you reassured him. “I’m sorry. I just—did you buy all of that?”

“I did,” he said quietly, looking a tad bit sheepish. “I didn’t know which ones would be best for you, so I asked a female assistant—”

“You asked someone?” You were in disbelief. He’d gone to the store, looked like a lost sheep in the sanitary products aisle, and asked a clerk to help choose some options for you.

“I realise now that I should’ve asked you, instead.”

You shook your head again. “No, I’m not chastising you, Zayne. I’m…I’m hugely impressed—in awe, in fact.”

Zayne frowned at you, evidently puzzled. “Impressed? Is this not what a boyfriend typically does? I didn’t do anything special.”

Little did he know, he actually had. 

You were certain that you weren’t the only woman on the planet who had previously been made to feel inferior or shamed by others in regards to your period. 

There were so many instances where men—and even the occasional woman had mentioned it as a way of insult. Must be her time of the month. Time for someone to change their tampon. 

Once, you had accidentally pulled a pad out of your bag instead of your notepad in the middle headquarters, and every last one of your male colleagues avoided you for the remainder of the week. It was as if you were infected with a disease that would kill them.

Finding yourself standing before the exception was a shock to your system. A good shock. 

A real gentleman. 

You felt your eyes well up again. Tears of fear and worry had become tears of contentment. Finally, for once in your life, you were comfortable in the presence of a man during your cycle.

“I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed here whenever you stay,” he explained further.

“I love you,” you simply whispered back, a small smile curling your lips.

He still looked thoroughly perplexed at your reaction, like this shouldn’t have been something that was happening to you for the first time. Like every other man you’d ever come across will have treated you the way he has.

“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face with his large, gentle hand. “Were you really going to leave?”

You nodded guiltily, feeling a little silly about your initial freak out. Something had been healed within your soul by his nonexistent judgement of your cycle, and even if he didn’t understand it, you were so very lucky and grateful to have a man like him.

He brushed away some of the damp streaks on your cheek with his thumb. “I don’t want you to go, but if you want to—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good. We have more episodes of Love Hospital to watch.”

“I thought we were watching Police Passion?”

He blew out a short laugh before dropping a tender kiss to your smiling lips. It made your heart feel warm and full, a feeling you never wanted to let go of.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said before taking his leave.

You took the wicker basket of supplies into the en-suite, the smile on your face not wavering as you studied it. He’d even put a rather pricey bottle of body wash in there for you, the description on the label claiming that its contents would soothe and relax you with scents of chamomile and jasmine. 

Everything was so tidily placed inside, a true reflection on how much he actually cared about your needs. Even a single incorrect pack of sanitary towels kept somewhere in the bathroom would have been enough for you to know that you didn’t need to be uncomfortable with him, but he’d made an effort. 

A serious effort that he saw as the bare minimum.

After picking out the best suited candidate in the sea of pads and tampons, you got yourself showered and sorted into fresh pyjamas from your bag. The cramping in your stomach started to bother you as soon as you finished getting changed, so you fished around in the basket for the unopened box of ibuprofen and a heating pad for the seizing muscles in your back.

Once you’d emerged from the bedroom, Zayne was nowhere to be seen in the living room. The area around the recliner you had both been lounging in all day was cleared and tidy, not an empty takeout carton or half drunk cup of tea in sight.

Making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found him steeping a mug of raspberry leaf tea to aid your cramping. You quietly grabbed a clean glass to fill with water, popping two capsules of ibuprofen into your hand to take.

Zayne glanced at the clock to memorise what time you were taking this dose, in case you required another later on. “How are you feeling?”

You smiled softly at him. Despite the storm of misery striking through your body, you still had a reason to smile.

“Happy,” you murmured sincerely. “Despite the devil himself tearing away at my insides.”

He offered a small smile of sympathy back, pulling the sopping teabag out of your mug of tea to discard it. “Do you need anything else? I can go out if there’s anything you want,” he offered sincerely, not at all troubled by the idea of you needing anything more from him.

Good lord did you love this man.

“Just you, please,” you requested, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle back up with him until the painkillers kicked in.

He obliged your request immediately, picking up the steaming mug of tea with one hand and slipping your hand into the other to lead you back out to the recliner. Before you could seat yourself in the little gap beside him, he gently pulled you onto his lap.

You couldn’t help the little flash of panic that shot through you at the thought of sitting on him during your period, but he clearly didn’t care. His hands just got straight to work with the heating pad, placing it where you needed it the most.

The rest of the evening was spent with Zayne giving you some luxuriously soothing back rubs to ease the pain—which had quickly been alleviated thanks to the ibuprofen and tea—followed by your regularly scheduled make out sessions whenever his hands started to wander. There wasn’t an ounce of bother in him whenever he turned you to straddle his lap, his all time favourite place to have you. 

He wasn’t bothered by anything when it came to taking care of you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in a request, anon! I adore Zayne so it was nice to have a prompt for my first oneshot for him. 🩵

[cinematicreid]

out the door

the one where Spencer helps reader pack for a trip.

wc 1003

tags + the rundown: fem!reader, bau!reader, fluff, spencer and reader are besties but ofc flirty, cute banter, i want him so bad etc.

a/n: hi tumblr hi fellow spencer reid stans hiiii! i think about this man so much in my head it was time to get him out of my notes app and onto a blog. inbox is open, let’s chat. all feedback welcome just pls be nice! enjoy!

~

“Spencer, be more helpful,” you beg as you stuff your toothpaste into an almost-full toiletry bag while frantically looking for your chapstick.

“I told you this was going to happen,” he says with a huff of resignation. He begins to fold the tiny, but mighty (i.e., messy) pile of clothes on your bed, organizing them neatly in your duffle bag.

To be fair, he was right. To also be fair, it had been a long week at the office, working through a stack of files that seemed never-ending. The days were long as they always were, and you had already fallen behind on quite a few household tasks, a rare habit of yours that was particularly prominent during weeks like these. Packing for your girls’ weekend had been the last thing on your mind.

Now here you were with a flight that was sure to leave without you if you didn’t kick it into high gear, and a somehow always right Spencer Reid ready to drive you to the airport, and you couldn’t find your damn chapstick.

“Well, if you knew this was going to happen you should have come even earlier.”

You make your way from your bathroom to your bedroom and toss your toiletry bag on the bed, nearly missing Spencer’s arm as he folds the last of your jeans. He chuckles at your remark before tucking the see-through bag neatly into the duffle.

“You know, I could have not offered my automobile services to you. I could have let you perish on the side of the road,” he teases.

You roll your eyes as you rummage through the drawers of your bedside table. Where the fuck did you put your chapstick?

“You’ve packed so many go-bags, you’d think you’d have this down by now,” he continues.

“My go-bag!”

You rush to the living room, targeting another one of the (too many) duffle bags you own on the couch. Most of its contents had been emptied into your laundry basket or returned to their rightful places except a few, and you race back to your room with your chapstick proudly brandished. Spencer shakes his head in amusement.

“How long will you be gone?” he asks, gently taking the tube from your fingers and securing it inside the front pocket of the bag, now zipped up and ready to board.

“Just the weekend,” you smile, already feeling your shoulders ease as the breath finds your lungs easier. You hated rushing. “I haven’t been back to Michigan in almost a year.”

His brow furrows. “We had a case there last month.”

“Yeah but, you know what I mean. I want to see my friends and visit the museums and enjoy the food, not profile a psycho.”

You grab your bag and start to sling it over your shoulder as you make your way to the front door. Spencer trails behind you, reaching for the strap before you can secure it and placing it over his own shoulder.

“We haven’t had a full weekend off in a while,” he says, and is that the faintest twinge of disappointment in his voice? “I didn’t know you were going to be out of town.”

You glance over at him, letting your eyes wander for a moment. Spencer on the weekends was a rare sight. His hair was extra fluffy; he’d had time to truly wash it in the shower instead of the rushed mornings you were used to when working a case. He was wearing his favorite cardigan that he never traveled with, the bottom two buttons left undone and the light brown of the wool bringing out the even lighter specks of brown in his eyes.

Of course, there was your favorite part: Those damn, adorable glasses that made their appearance once in a blue moon and almost exclusively on weekends when he felt too lazy to put in his contacts. Spencer on the weekends was all soft smiles and gentle laughs and, quite frankly, he was an absolute joy to be around.

You internally echo his disappointment that you’ll be a plane ride away instead of here with him, enjoying a new book store he’d found or convincing him to go window shopping with you.

You stop yourself before letting this daydream become too enticing. You could spend a million weekends with Spencer and never get bored, but you did miss your hometown, and your friends. You had a plane to catch.

“Sounds like someone already misses me,” you joke, returning your gaze ahead of you and grabbing your keys from the kitchen counter. “We see each other nearly every hour of every day. I honestly thought the sight of me repulsed you.”

“What? Of course not! I don’t find you repulsing. I was just…“ he begins to trail off ever so slightly, and there it is again. That tempting bubble of a daydream and what the weekend could have been starts creeping back into your apartment. You’d probably do anything to please Spencer in this moment.

Damn him.

Before you can burst it, for the sake of both of you and your not-so-cheap plane ticket, the piercing ringtone of the good doctor’s phone bursts it for you.

You stare at each other knowingly.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan, shutting your eyes and tossing your head back in defeat.

Spencer retrieves his phone from his back pocket, pursing his lips knowingly before answering it.

“Hey, Garcia… yeah… you don’t have to call her, she’s actually with me. We’ll be there soon.” He gives you an apologetic look as he hangs up.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, the previous moment fully vanished as you both slip back into work-mode. You let out an exaggerated, though you feel appropriate, sigh.

“At least you packed my go-bag for me,” you say in attempt to ease your own sadness about your now nonexistent weekend plans. “You should come over before all our cases.”

“Don’t let my generosity fool you.” Spencer nudges you toward the door with a comforting hand. “You’re packing mine when we get to my place.”

[brittscafe]

𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Byakuya Kuchiki, Jushiro Ukitake, Shinji Hirako, Shunsui Kyoraku, and Kisuke Urahara x fem! reader (separately)

Summary: Byakuya, Ukitake, Shinji, Shunsui, and Urahara x fem! enemy reader

Request: I love your blog sm its insaneee!! Could you do bleach men (byakuya,ukitake,shunsui, urahara,shinji (you can change or do one of them)) with a frenemy (friend + enemy but more on the enemy) type of relation with the reader. Where she teases (flirts ;)) and annoys them and how they react to her

A/n: Hiiii!! Omg thank you so much <3 This was so cute

Content: Lots of teasing for our bleach men, slight cursing.

Ko-fi link (anything is appreciated <3)

Byakuya:

He's more on the serious side when it comes to you teasing him or annoying him.

He can totally keep his cool when you're annoying him, just sitting there and doing paperwork as you're trying to distract him.

He speaks like a true gentlemen when addressing you, but don't think that he won't call you out or say mean things in a gentlemenly tone.

Byakuya knows how to keep his calm when you're teasing him, but his ears and cheeks start to heat up.

On the inside though, his heart is ramming against his chest and he's trying to keep his cool.

You know and you Byakuya could bicker for ages and describe how much you despise one another, but deep down the two of you are enjoying it.

I think that Byakuya would find bickering more annoying and gets easily annoyed, but he's got a little more patience when it comes to you.

Gets nervous when you flirt with him and is at a loss of words.

At first, he can't tell if he likes it or not, but with time, he comes to have a love hate relationship with your flirting.

Jushiro:

He gets so flustered when you tease him, even though you guys are technically enemies.

You can tell when he gets flustered bc his cheeks turn all pink and you like to tease him even more.

He's such a sweetheart, he can't see you as his enemy.

You find it so funny to tease Jushiro and see the way his jaw drops and how he reacts.

You can and try and annoy him all you want, but Jushiro will never find it too annoying to the point where he's done with you.

You'll flirt with him, rubbing his arms or feeling his abs underneath his captain's uniform.

Jushiro's face bursts into a flame and his heart beats against his chest as you're touching him.

He honestly really enjoys your hate-love relationship and it brings him some entertainment.

You know Jushiro's condition and would never do anything to bring him harm like that.

Jushiro likes seeing your soft side when it comes to his condition, but you will flip back to that enemy side.

Regardless, he enjoys your relationship.

Shunsui:

Your friend-enemy friendship/relationship is perfect for Shunsui. He loves it.

He's easygoing and lazy, which makes it easy for you to tease him restlessly.

Shunsui tests you to your limits and isn't afraid to. He knows you can handle it.

Def tries to feel you up with his hands all the time and you don't allow it.

You're always competing with Shunsui and he doesn't really see it as a threat since he's literally at the top. He thinks its cute and funny.

It takes a lot to really rock Shunsui and affect him with all the teasing and flirting you do.

He'll flirt right back with you and then the two of you play a little game, see whoever backs away first. Hint: It's not Shunsui.

The two of you have a very flirty and playful relationship and everyone sees it.

Shunsui's reactions consist of him just shooting you a smirk and a flirty comment right back at you.

He's very calm and just really loves to have that stupid little grin on his face.

Kisuke:

He def plays mind games with you and isn't afraid to make things a little more physical.

You'll have little play fights or more serious fights where the two of you are using your swords and kudo.

Little teasing jokes in between sword swings and mocking comments.

He wears a sly smirk or grin on his face when he knows he's getting to you.

Kisuke knows how to use his words against you and you know exactly how to tease Kisuke.

He's just a pervy shop owner, touches get him all hot and heavy, words slipping out from his mind.

There's definitely times where you're teasing Kisuke with your hands and then pins you up against a wall.

Kiskuke is super smart and knows exactly how to react to you.

His reactions aren't big at all and the two of you have a super playful relationship.

Shinji:

The king of teasing, finally gets a taste of his own medicine.

It takes a lot to break Shinji and make him flustered, but you're the one who can do it.

The two of you go back and forth teasing each other until one of you breaks, like little teasing fights.

Shinji would totally love to play fight with all the time.

He'll pick you up and swing you around. He really loves to pin you to the ground and get super close to your face, lips inches apart then tickle attack you.

Shinji can deal with a lot, so no matter how much you try to annoy him, he won't budge until he does.

When Shinji does, he takes matters into his own hands and just annoys the shit out of you.

He honestly loves it when you try to annoy him. It's a source of entertainment.

You'll have like little wars with each other, battling each other with your swords, neither one of you backing down.

Shinji can be mean and brutal with his words just as you are.

He just finds the whole thing funny, but cares for you deep down.

The two of you have lots of fun, bickering, teasing, and annoying each other.

[hiskillingjar]

Tentacles (Ren/MC)

this blog is a gooner safe space. sorry for the late upload, i got home from work last night and immediately fell asleep ^_^

day 9: tentacles second person. cw for anime.

"What are you doing?"

Ren let out a barked yelp at the sudden sound of your voice, jolting out of his computer chair and pressing up against his desk, shielding his computer screen from you with his body.

“What are you doing, barging in like that?!” He demanded, his pointed ears raised high and his tail shooting straight and still, glaring at you, looming in the frame of his now open door, over his shoulder. “This is my room!"

"Can you blame me?” You shrugged, not caring about his cowering form as you entered the room, your arms crossed over your chest. “I'm stuck in one house, all hours of the day, I'm gonna get bored, like a…house cat or something." You huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of your face, before giving him a considered look, tilting your head. "So...what are you doing?"

“None of your business. It's private.” He retorted quickly and coldly, still trying to keep his screen covered, a deep, embarrassed red flushing across his face as he stubbornly kept staring at you, defiant. “You can see that, can’t you?"

"Mm, yeah, I figured as much." You replied, sucking your teeth, your lazy gaze lingering on his tight body (tight with nerves and defiance) before going back to his flushed face, not totally hating what you were seeing. "Can I see?"

With the way Ren’s tail bristled and puffed up, like that of a grumpy cat, you guessed that he was trying to appear angry, or at the very least, like he was something, someone you shouldn’t mess around with.

But you were pretty bored. And you liked messing around. 

“No. I told you, it’s private." He shot back in a hiss, ears lowering quickly. “Pervert."

You let out a scoffed laugh and rolled your eyes, nodding towards the screen which was still playing the video he was watching.

"I’m the pervert? You're the one watching hentai, aren’t you?” You said, your eyes narrowing slightly. “What, you’re really too embarrassed to show me?”

An intense, mortified flush immediately shot across his face at that correct accusation, his ears lowering sheepishly, and his tail drooping down into a sad, limp sway, as he keened back against his desk, trying to hide it even more.

“Th- That’s not-” He started to protest, trying to defend himself, but he quickly closed his mouth, realizing there was little he could say.

Oh no. You didn’t totally hate that at all.

You smirked lightly, stepping forward into the warmth and the soft glow of his bedroom.

"I'm not a prude, Ren,” You murmured quietly, trying to encourage him out of his shy posturing. “Even if you try and make me out as one. I have watched porn before, even some of the lame shit you’ve watched."

Ren’s ears perked up slightly, though his expression didn’t give away anything but persistent discomfort, watching you approach and encroach into his personal space. He made no effort to move away from the desk, either, just staring at you with a conflicted expression, like he was waiting to pounce or flee, if he had to.

"Why do I find that hard to believe..." He muttered through a slight sneer, his lip curling around his fangs..

"Because you're a close-minded prick?" You suggested, raising your brow. “Who thinks I can’t possibly also be a pervert because I’m not putting out to you, twenty-four-seven?”

Ren’s ears lowered again at the accusation, his lip jutting out in a pouted frown, staring at you with an expression that was halfway between shame and outrage.

"Come on, dude, just show me.” You said, giving him an exasperated, if fond smirk, taking one final step towards him, your hands positioning either side of his skinny hips, almost pinning him down to the desk. “What are you so shy for? As long as it's not anything gross or creepy, it'll just be funny."

"Funny.” Ren pouted slightly with another eye roll, though he didn’t seem to mind you being so close to him. Maybe he even liked it a little, something you sensed as his tail worked its way around your thigh, comfortable in molding to your body. “So, you're just gonna laugh at me, then."

"Probably.” You shrugged and nodded, your honesty making him scoff. “But you're a big boy, aren’t you? I think you can tolerate me teasing you a little..."

"Haha, that's very reassuring...” Ren huffed out sarcastically, before he let out another sigh, idly biting his lip for a moment, and sank back into the computer chair, letting you get a full look of what he was watching.

"...Jesus, dude."

The screen was filled with a mass of animated tentacles, pink and fleshy and phallic, wrapped around and invading a cast of anime girls in elaborate outfits, frames changing every few seconds to a new bulging body part, a new angle of invasion, or pornographic expression to keep things interesting for the viewer. 

It was absolutely repulsive and deeply hedonistic.

And while you felt next to nothing at the animated display (and you rarely ever did with porn anyway), Ren was sinking more and more into the computer chair, his face going a darker hue of red.

"Do not." He said firmly, even though he couldn't meet your gaze.

"I'm not!" You laughed, eyebrows shooting up as the screen showed off a heavily pixeated tentacle invading another girl (with the pixels hiding the deep invasion, too). You couldn't hear the audio playing on Ren's headphones around his neck, but you knew what that sounded like. "I sure hope those school girls are of age, Ren."

"Shut up, obviously they are." He snapped back, defensive and annoyed like a teenager, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't make it weird..." He then grimaced, his hands going up to hide his face.

"I'm not making it weird when it is weird," You chuckled, idly leaning against the arm of his computer chair, still watching the screen. "Own your weirdness, dude, it’ll make you way happier in the long run."

"Ugh, I hate you…" He whined under his breath.

"You were the one who kidnapped me," You reminded him with a roll of your eyes (not mentioning that you were the one who chose to stay when he offered you your freedom). "You're not even going to talk me through it? Not going to explain your sick and twisted perversions to me?"

“…Do I really have to?” He muttered, his face still hidden behind his hands. 

"Mm...I might make it worth your while if you do," You offered, moving to perch yourself on the computer chair with him, your hands sinking down to his lap. “You get what I mean?” Ren’s breath hitched slightly and his ears shot up at the touch, his body going tense. He slowly lowered his hands to look at you again, surprised, and his face an even brighter shade of red.

You were probably being pretty bold for someone who never put out. 

But…you were bored, and you wanted attention. And this was an easy way to get it.

"Tell me," You said encouragingly, your hands toying with the toggle of his jogging bottoms, feeling the bulging heat beneath it. "I'm...genuinely interested."

A noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine left his throat at your touch, his hips reflexively twitching forwads, his tail flicking against your back as his wide eyes looked forward to meet your gaze, his mind clearly struggling to process the situation and why you were doing any of this.

“About…what exactly?” He squeaked out, his voice cracking a little bit as his face went impossibly redder.

"About, uh," You turned towards the screen and squinted at the title of the video. "Magical Girl Group Destroyed by Tentacles. Obviously."

“Right….” Ren whimpered out through another grimace (embarrassed at the video’s title, maybe), his hips involuntarily bucking up against your hand as he looked at the screen, his hands gripping the arms of the computer chair so hard, his knuckles were white. “I- It’s just…” He started to explain hesitantly, his voice a little breathless and his expression hot and humiliated. "I...ah, I like cute girls...?"

"Yeah, I figured that much out," You mumbled in a sarcastic drawl, leaning in and bringing your mouth closer to his ear and prying down the front of his joggers where his uncovered cock was drooling pre already. "Don't like them enough to feel bad about them being destroyed though, huh?"

“I- It’s just…fantasy, ah,”  He said through a strangled moan, his head falling back as he let you work, your fist gripping his cock tightly and moving up and down, working him to full and painful harness. “I’d never…mm, I’d never actually do that to someone…” His own hands gripping the arms of the chair even tighter and his hips lifting slightly to allow you better access to work with him.

"Well, yeah, it's impossible." You said with a little snort, dragging your thumb over the beading slit of his cock. "But you'd like something in close approximation, wouldn't you?"

“I- I…ah…n- no.” Ren protested between breathless gasps, his body trembling slightly and his whole expression was one of flustered humiliation as you continued to work him over.

"Don't lieeee~" You cooed, your hand moving a little quicker, working the twitching length of his cock, all the way to his swelled knot and back up again. "You wouldn't like a cute girl, tied up and helpless and begging for you to be gentle with her while you invade every hole with whatever you’re able to?"

“Th- That doesn’t count…!" He protested feebly, his head falling back against the chair again as he squirmed and rocked his hips against your touch, his breath leaving him in quiet, shaky gasps. ”That’s…ah, totally normal…”

"No, it isn’t, you little creep," You murmured softly, nestling against the soft fluff of his ears and his hair, taking in his scent. “Most guys don’t want to torture a girl until she’s cumming her brains out…maybe you’re the only guy in the world who likes this shit, ever thought about that?

A full-body shiver ran up his spine, his tail curling up against your back as his grip on the arms of the chair grew even tighter, his whole body trembling now.

“Shut up, ah, god,” He huffed, barely getting the words out between quiet moans and shuddering breaths. “Why are you so fucking a-annoyinggguh… ” 

He was losing it. And that was incredibly hot.

"You gonna come, Ren?” You teased, giving his ear a little nip. “God, I barely touched you. Behaving like a real vigrin, huh?~" 

“Don’t mock me,” He whined (complaining, not pleading, giving no vulnerability away), his body trembling even more now as you held him tighter, his cheeks flushing dark in embarrassment, though he didn’t try to move away. “F- Faster…please..” he added, his voice a pitiful gasp.

You let out a soft 'tsk' with a smug giggle, but you did as he asked you.

“God, this is so not fair…” He mumbled, his body shaking with need, his eyes tightly shut and his legs spreading (your own thrown over his leg, to make the position comfortable). “Mmh, please, please, please don’t stop…”

"So needy," You remarked, pressing closer, your free arm sliding around his shoulders "Almost too needy...maybe you should stop rotting your brain with so much porn, hm?"

“Shut up, don’t talk about it-” He protested weakly, though he couldn’t conceal the desperate trembling and whining from his voice. “God, I hate you so much…”

"Hmph," You smirked, pressing your lips against his neck. "So, you're gonna let me go, then? Since you hate me sooo much..."

“Shut up!” He protested, his head rolling to the side to give you more space to kiss along his neck, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. “I can still hate you and want you to stay!”

"I thought so," You murmured with a smile, giving his neck another kiss. "We're really gonna have to do something about all this porn, though...aren't we?"

“Hah…ah…I’m not promising anything…” He answered breathlessly, his ears laying back as he arched his back, pressing his neck more into your kisses. “Close, ngh don’t- don’t stop…”

"No more porn for a week, and I won't stop.” You offered in a low warning tone, stilling your movements for just a second. “Okay?"

“Ah- a whole week?” Ren whined, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes wide and pleading, his hips still bucking up against your touch despite your sudden stillness. “That’s way too long, come on, a weekend, a couple of days, please-”

"A week. Take it or leave it."

His trembling jaw tensed a little, as he assessed his options.

“God, you’re awful..” He muttered with a huff, his head falling back against the chair again, his legs shaking slightly underneath you. “…Fine, fine, a week…”

"Good boy!"

[20-th-centurygirl]

distraction

jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: smut

summary: jude distracts you while you're tying to catch up on a show 🧎‍♀️

a/n: inspo from this on @judethluvr 's blog <3 decided to add this from @judeswhore 's blog too bc its so 🤭 also yes this ask is from a very long time ago this fic has genuinely been sat rotting away in my drafts for ages but enjoy

masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

jude had been away for the past few days so when you both finally had the chance to catch up on your favourite show you both jumped at it. jude was lying flat on his back on the sofa, you lying in between in his legs with your head on his chest. his steady breathing relaxing you and you couldn't help your eyes fluttering shut.

your eyes were fluttering closed, but they swiftly opened when you felt judes hand drifting further up your shirt, changing their position of being flat on your stomach to cup your boobs. it wasn't an unusual thing for jude to do, him often falling asleep that way and at first you assumed it was just another way of him trying to he close to you. his thumb gently stroked over your nipple and you hummed out softly. your own hand moved up and down on jude's thigh, drawing little hearts on it.

his fingers moved to trace your thighs, both of your gazes still fixed on the tv. jude mirrored your actions and he began tracing little hearts on your inner thigh as you leaned further into him. it didn't take him long before his fingertip moved to rub lazy circles on your clit over your shorts, while his other hand continued groping your boobs. he mumbled a barely audible "this okay?" and you hummed a yes, closing your eyes again.

without saying anything else he pulled them gently to the side. his gaze hadn't faltered and his actions were practically muscle memory. he grazed your clit lightly, dragging one finger down to gather your wetness before moving back to your clit. you bit your lip, attempting to stifle any noises that were threatening to escape your lips. you wanted more so you subtly bucked your hips up once but decided to do nothing else, hoping jude would get the message.

you felt him slide one of his fingers in and you couldn't help the little hitch in your breath. you knew jude would be cocky and would never let you live it down if you started moaning loudly or begging so you tried to keep your moans at bay. jude pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sliding in another finger as you whimpered out.

he curled his fingers in just the right way, that combined with the small flicks on your clit with his thumb and the way he rolled your nipple with his fingers had your eyes squeezing shut. really you had no reason to be quiet, but there was something about the way he was so casually making you feel so good while still entirely focused on something else was just so insanely hot to you and you were determined to not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much of a mess he could make you so easily.

you felt your orgasm creeping up on you and you gripped his hand that was moving inside of you. your chest was heaving and your eyes squeezed shut and you were sure judes hand has nail marks in it. you let a few small whimpers slip, jude still fingering you through your orgasm.

you stayed there with your head rested on jude and his hand splayed on your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. when you eventually shifted to look at jude you were greeted with the cockiest grin plastered on his face. "didn't even need to say anything and I got you that worked up huh?" he teased as you rolled your eyes at him, moving to straddle him.

you brought a hand down to squeeze his now very present bulge in his joggers "cause its impossible to get you worked up isn't it" you quipped back, leaning in to kiss him. judes hand moved to cup the back of your neck to hold you closer to him as yours travelled up his hoodie clad chest. your fingers slipped into it, tracing the warm skin of his stomach. when your fingers followed the small patch of hair that was present on his lower stomach he let out a small groan. you took advantage of that, sliding in your tongue to brush it against his.

you rolled your hips gently as jude pulled of your shirt. he peppered your chest with light kisses, swirling his tongue around your nipple in a way that had your head spinning instantly. "baby" you whimpered, gripping his shoulders. "desperate again?" he mumbled against your skin, feeling the smirk and the teasing undertone. 'yes i am just do something please" you whined, attempting to roll your hips again but jude gripped them to stop you.

he pulled down his joggers and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out and you felt yourself salivating at the sight. he pulled your shorts to the side again, wrapping an arm around you back to lift you on top of him. you gripped his shoulders as you both let out breathy moans.

judes hands guided your hips into a steady rhythm, attacking your neck and chest with kisses, sucking and biting until he was satisfied with the marks he'd left. you being almost naked while jude was still fully clothed sent you into overdrive, too overwhelmed by everything going on to focus.

the burn in your thighs became too much and you collapsed onto him 'jude I can't" you whimpered and he smirked for what felt like the hundredth time. 'aw poor baby' he mocked, sending you a fake pout before thrusting his hips up, perfectly hitting that spot that made you see stars.

your hands gripped onto his biceps, whining at the way they flexed in your fingers. 'doing so good for me angel. feels so good' jude grunted, his fingers harshly gripping onto the flesh of your ass. your head fell back and jude took advantage and attacked your throat with kisses, sucking harshly before soothing over the spot with his tongue. 'jude you're gonna make me cum fuck' you whimpered and jude's head began spinning.

'only me yeah? only i can make you feel this good huh?' his smirk and cocky tone only making your orgasm approach faster. you nodded and jude landed a particularly harsh slap to your ass 'use your words beautiful, i asked you a question?' one of his hands gripped your chin, angling your face so you could lock eyes with him. 'only you jude. only you can ever make me feel like this' you whined. jude leaned up, angling his mouth right by your ear 'good girl' he whispered before placing a delicate kiss to your cheek.

that was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you. your legs shook around him and your fingers dug into judes shoulders. his head fell back and loud moans tumbled from his throat, your orgasm triggering his as his whimpered out your name.

your head fell into the crook of his neck, collapsing onto him and his arms wrapped around your back. jude let out a breathy laugh, peppering kisses to the side of your head. 'fuck, that was amazing' he whispered and you grinned, lightly kissing his neck. you moved back to look at him, catching his mouth with yours. 'think we're gonna have to rewind this abit' you giggled.

[macravishedbymactavish]

First "I love you" (TF141 x GN!Reader Headcanons)

Since I literally can't focus on writing the series I have started, have some headcanons instead

TW: Swearing, typical COD violence and themes (mild spoilers in Price's bit), some clichè themes

Blog HQ

Ghost

Saying I love you...

You told him the first time he returned to your shared home following deployment

Sure the two of you had been together for a fair while before this, but its the first time you were alone in your shared space. It was the first time you really felt how empty home was without him.

You didn't want to distract him prior to leaving for the mission, so you whispered those 3 little words to him mid-kiss when he was home with you.

Heart full, and the breath you didn't realize you were holding all this time released. He was back in your arms. Your home was back with you.

Hearing I love you...

As with the other headcanons I write, I'm a firm believer that Simon isn't as emotionally unavailable or closed off due to past trauma as much as so much time in solitude. The last meaningful connection he had ended not the greatest, so he wasn't keen on seeking this out. It's been a while, our man is pretty uneducated in the modern romance department.

With his "lack of experience due to time alone" he is honestly a bit overwhelmed and terrified of this. He loves you, all of his heart. He loves you with the same amount of his heart as he loved them.

Sure, it's a different love altogether (familial vs romantic), but the feelings are overwhelming no less.

He clearly doesn't say it back right away (even though God he wants to). He wants to make sure he means it and portrays just how much he means it before diving right in. He wants it to be as close to perfect for you as possible.

Surprisingly, the perfect moment comes when you're falling asleep one night. You're snuggled into his chest, warm, content. Mumble a soft I love you, Simon.

His response comes naturally, a soft I love you too whispered into the darkness. Then everything just seemed to fall into place.

That night was the best sleep either of you ever had.

Gaz

Saying I love you...

I feel like with Kyle it would happen at the exact same time. Like....literally the same time. So imma just:

Saying I love you/Hearing I love you...

It would definitely come when the two of you are most comfortable around one another. Probably during a lazy night at home.

Cooking together perhaps? Little bit of teamwork, mixed with teasing comments and stolen kisses as you manuever around one another.

Or maybe playing video games (cozy couch co-op or fiercely competitive. No inbetween. Take your pick).

Flip side of the coin: you're getting wound down from a night out. Stripping out of the stupid fancy clothes you decided were a good idea to wear out. Spoiler: it wasn't a good idea. Next time let's do something more casual.

No matter what the situation is, you're doing it together and your hearts couldn't be fuller. Happily in the apartment you two share, just enjoying one another.

"I could live like this forever without complaint" you'd start, smiling over at him (even if he beat your ass at whatever game you were playing with no mercy)

"Didn't know I was dating an immortal" he'd tease back. "Share your secrets with me"

"No!"

"Why not????"

"I simply cannot share my secrets with a doof like you"

Your play argument ending in him trying to tickle you, or play wrestle you, or just anything that results in the two of you (INNOCENTLY) tangled up together. Like super clichè looking into the others eyes as you lay/sit there. Lost in the moment and realizing it's no longer "I like like you" but rather:

"I love you"

Said, by the two of you, at the exact same time.

Queue laughter, shared kisses and full hearts.

Soap

Saying I love you...

My mind automatically went to lost on a road trip trope. Like you two would plan out an entire day, wanting to visit the spot you two would hang out at all the time pre-relationship.

Except you're both too distracted by conversation and jamming to whatever playlist you had in the background to realize: your turn is well into the rear view.

By the time he realizes he's now driving on roads he doesn't recognize, it's too late. You're pretty far out of the way, and the clouds in the sky don't look super promising.

"T'hell with it! We have our lunch here" he'd propose, finding a small hill in the distance. "Our new spot™️"

So that'd exactly what you do. An improvised little lunch, in your new trademarked spot.

It was after lunch, when you both were full and ready for a food coma. You don't know what overtook you to say it. You didn't even realize you were saying it until his eyes dialted and a small smirk crossed his lips.

"You love me, aye?"

Hearing I love you...

He would have no hesitation saying it back, except for you playfully smacking him while yelling his name.

He'd be so in shock that someone as lovely as you would feel that way toward someone like him.

You!! Loving him!!

The next time he'd try to say it back, it would be interrupted by thunder in the distance, and the urgency to start packing up your things and getting home before too long.

It was when you make the journey from the vehicle to the house through the pouring rain when he decided now was the time. Watching you laugh, try and fail to keep yourself dry that it came out.

"I love you too"

"That's nice. But it's raining fucking hard so can we go inside and be cute after?"

You two were 100% cute inside after that. Lots of "I love yous" shared back and forth that night.

Price

Saying I love you...

Hear me out though, what if it were you captured with Kate (in that one mission, the one that solidified that Gaz shouldn't be in aircrafts anymore).

No matter how you feel in that moment (terrified, oddly calm, pissed to high hell) one thought would be in the front of your mind:

You've never said I love you.

Sure, you've told him the various things that you love about him. But never told him straight out that you love him in his entirety.

So as you sit, guns pointed at you. Ready to cause harm and death if needed. You find yourself reflecting on your relationship.

The ups, the downs, the victories and hardships. The way that you used to find his overbearing nature to be insufferable at times...you're now viewing it in a new light.

Maybe that's just because you're standing on death's doorstep wondering if he's going to answer today.

The crash, the chaos. You truly wonder if it's the end. Until you're pulled away from eternities grasp and brought back to reality. Face to face with your boyfriend who is clearly fighting back his own emotions. Still convincing himself that you're alive.

"I love you, John" comes out so naturally as you launch yourself at him. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his gear pressing into you. He was here, he had you.

Hearing I love you...

John would 110% be beside himself. Trying to figure out how he let this happen, concerned that he won't get to you in time, letting his mind run wild with worse case scenarios.

Whether you work in the military or not -- you were never supposed to be in this type of situation.

Getting the call that you were MIA and now a POW caused his heart to stop. To grow a shade colder as he reminded himself he needs to breathe.

Won't do you a whole lot of good if he's passed out.

While he wants to call the shots and lead the charge to get you back safe, he does step back and let his teammates take point. Considering it's a glaring conflict of interest for him to be there, captain or not.

The entire time they're fighting to get to you, all he can think of is how this is inadvertently his fault. Running through everything to figure out where he went wrong. Where did he slack off? What could he have done differently?

He also vowed in this moment to keep you safe for the rest of your lives. Even if you hated him, if you never wanted to see him again because of this. He would never, ever anything like this happen to you again.

When they finally reach the front of the convoy, he's ready to pass out or punch someone out if they don't move out of his way. Much like a mama bear and her cub, you don't get between John and his love in this moment.

His team makes quick work of the enemies, as he approaches one of the doors. Heart hammering inside his chest, hands shaking slightly as tears burn the back of his eyes. Pleading to anyone listening that you be alive.

When you barreled into him and whispered those words to him he could've fallen over. His legs almost not supporting him. You were alive, you love him. You were alive. You love him. He repeated this over in his head as he held you close.

Whispering the words back, cursing himself for how his voice broke halfway through.

You were alive. You love him.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

[panda-writes-kpop]

Hiya! I love love LOVE your blog!

Can I request the Sana fluff alphabet? 🥺

Sana Fluff Alphabet (Requested!)

a/n: of COURSE you can request this! I am more than happy to supply you with a fluff alphabet for Sana 🫶 hope you enjoy this fic!!

tw: none!

♡ Masterlist ♡

Affection (How do they show their affection? What love language(s) do they use?)

Sana’s main love language is physical touch - she’s the clingiest member by far. When you’re home together, she always has to hold your hand, hold you in her arms, and give you lots of kisses, hugs, and cuddles.

Beauty (What do they admire about their S/O? What makes their S/O beautiful?)

She admires your kindness and hardworking nature. Sana wants someone who is good to her family and friends, and someone who also works hard to achieve their professional/social/extracurricular goals.

Comfort (How would they help their S/O if they were having a rough day?)

Sana finds a way to be at your side when you’re having a rough day - to her, there’s nothing worse than struggling and being alone in that struggle. She wants to be there for you so you have someone to talk to and be comforted by.

Dreams (How do they picture their future with their S/O?)

Sana pictures a beautiful, bright future with you. She wants to have more romantic moments with you as you travel the world and explore your relationship and the world with one another.

Equal (Do they tend to be more dominant or passive in the relationship?)

Sana tends to be more dominant in the relationship due to her extroverted nature. She often finds date spots or places to take you when she’s out with friends and family, and she wants to explore the world with you at her side.

Fight (Would they easily forgive their S/O after a fight? How would a typical fight go?)

Sana tends to be more agreeable and willing to compromise, so she often ends any potential fights before they happen. She wants only the best for your relationship, and she’s willing to put her ego aside for you. (also, who could get mad at her? She’s too cute and sweet to argue with fr fr).

Gratitude (How grateful are they for everything that their S/O does for them?)

Sana shows her gratefulness with her charms and charisma. She gives you a sweet smile and smothers you in compliments until you’re smiling ear-to-ear.

Honesty (Do they tend to keep secrets from their S/O, or do they share everything?)

Sana is completely open and honest with you. She’s been that way since before you started dating so you can feel comfortable enough to open up to her as well.

Inspiration (How is their S/O inspired by them?)

You’re inspired by how naturally charming Sana is. She doesn’t struggle to strike up a conversation with a stranger, or to casually joke with a barista or server as if they were a close friend. She loves people and seems to know exactly how to be open with them.

Jealousy  (Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

Sana does get a bit jealous if you’re too close to someone for her/your comfort. She’ll pout cutely and tug at your arm until you will leave with her at your side, which causes her to shower you in affection.

Kiss (How often do they kiss you? Where do they like to kiss you?)

Sana will kiss you all of the time - in public, in private, with friends, with family, next to strangers, etc. The better question is if there’s a place where Sana doesn’t like to kiss you. Her favorite places are your lips, your cheeks, and any visible location on your face that she can get to easily.

Lazy Day (How do they like to spend days off with their S/O?)

Sana will drag you around wherever the two of you are staying and explore the local cuisine, culture, and places to visit. If she has an extended vacation, she’d like to take you to another country, or to her/your home country so you can experience new and familiar things together.

Marriage (Do they want to get married? How often do they think about marrying their S/O?)

Sana often thinks about marrying you, and she will tell you as often as she can. It starts off as a teasing remark, but it quickly turns into a serious discussion between the two of you.

Nicknames (What do they call their S/O?)

Babe, honey, love, darling

Sweet nicknames from a sweet girl who thinks the world of you <3

On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they are in love? Is it extremely obvious to others?)

She has her head in the clouds when she is deeply in love with you, so much so that she becomes a bit forgetful in her everyday life. Her friends and family notice and tease her immediately, and she’s quick to reveal her relationship with you.

PDA (Are they very upfront with their relationship, or do they prefer to keep things quiet?)

Sana is extremely upfront with your relationship, so most people will be able to figure out that you two are dating within a couple of minutes. She will dial it down a bit if you get uncomfortable with PDA, but sometimes she can’t help herself when it comes to you.

Quirk (Some random personality trait that makes them an excellent partner.)

Her optimistic and bright personality makes her your number one cheerleader when it comes to lifting your spirits after a long day. You can’t help but smile at her cute antics, and you find your mood improving as you spend more time with her.

Romance (Are they a born romantic ready to woo their S/O at any moment, or do they struggle to spark romantic moments with their S/O?)

Sana is more of a born romantic who thrives on spontaneity. She doesn’t do any of the cheesy, rehearsed lines from rom-coms or other media, but she’ll sometimes say the sweetest things to you while you’re just out and about with her.

Support (How do they help support their S/O to reach their goals?)

Sana’s optimism makes her a great cheerleader when it comes to supporting you. She always likes to be physically present with you to celebrate the highs, or to help you pick up the pieces after you hit a new low. Sana will always be there to ride the waves with you, no matter what.

Thrill (Do they like trying out new things to spice up their relationship, or do they prefer to stick to a routine?)

She loves to try out new things to spice up her relationship! She will drag you to a new restaurant that she heard of from a friend, or will decide to stay in with you if you’re not feeling up to traveling and walking around. She’s always willing to change her routine, as long as the constant is you.

Understanding (How well do they know their partner?)

Sana understands you as a partner, and she recognizes your likes, dislikes, and hobbies. Sometimes, she can pretend like she’s not paying attention to the small things that help define you, but she truly tries to engrave it all into her brain so she can be a better partner to you.

Value (How important is the relationship to the person versus other relationships and things in their life?)

Sana values you as much as she values the other close bonds (familial and platonic) in her life. It’s important to her that her partner, friends, and family all get along with one another and are supportive of the different relationships that are occurring. She wants you to know that you’re a priority in her life, and she will prove it to you as long as you’re together.

Wild Card (A random fluffy headcanon that you have about the relationship?)

After a long day of work, or a long stretch of time without seeing each other, Sana will hug-tackle you to the ground before engulfing you in many, many kisses while nearly squeezing you to death. She won’t let go until she’s had her fill, but she will cling to you as you get off the floor, gather your bearings, and then launch your affection counter-assault back at her.

XOXO (Do they like to kiss, hug, and cuddle you? How often do they do so?)

YES, YES and ABSOLUTELY 100% YES. Sana loves to shower you in all forms of physical affection whenever you are within arms’ reach of her. She’s very clingy and will not let go for a long, long time.

Yearning (How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

She’s not used to being away from you for long periods of time, so she finds herself missing your hugs and kisses. She chooses to send you pictures of her cuddling the stuffed animal, in the hopes that you’ll see her pouty face and immediately return home. (you do consider it, but you have to stay where you are for now).

Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

Sana is so willing to do anything for you - her heart is so big and so full of love and affection for you and every part of you. She would prove her love through any test - given that they aren’t cruel or punishing in any way - and her willingness to stand by you encourages you to do the same because you adore her just as much as she adores you.

[archived-junkissed]

bedtime cuddles

member — seungcheol x gn reader genre — fluff word count — 660 warnings — none notes — this is the first thing i ever wrote for this blog and it's been sitting in my google drive for a long time so i decided to post it finally. since this is the third "bedtime" drabble i've posted, i'm considering making a mini series so please leave your thoughts on that so i know if that's something people would like. enjoy! note #2 — inspired by this 2018 ttt video!

one reblog = one really good hot shower

the bathroom is foggy when you turn off the shower, the mirror steamed up from the warmth of the water. the rhythmic whir of the overhead fan fills the silence as you wrap a towel around your head, wringing a little bit of the water from your hair. stepping out of the bathroom, you wander down the hallway, peeking into each room, looking for your boyfriend.

"baby?" you call out through the house. a soft, mumbled shout comes from down the hall in reply, and you smile, heading back into the bathroom.

after giving your hair one last shake, you hang the wet towel up, flicking off the fan and the light as you leave. walking into the next room, you find seungcheol in the darkened living area laying on the mattress on the floor, illuminated by the light of the tv.

you stand behind him for a moment, watching him as he lays unmoving on his side, a pillow tucked behind his head. his face is relaxed, lips barely parted, watching the program on the tv through half-lidded eyes. dark hair is strewn across the pillow, already matted, and you hold back a laugh, knowing how much of a mess it'll be when he wakes up tomorrow. but over the years you've come to love his tousled morning look; despite his shy complaints, his wild hair and puffy cheeks are one of the best part of your mornings.

the quilted blanket spread over him is one you made him for christmas or a birthday, you can't remember which. he's used it so much it's starting to wear out, and you make a mental note to make him another for your upcoming anniversary. maybe you can come up with something cute with little pieces of fabric from the places you’ve been together– it’s too late tonight, though, you’ll figure it out in the morning.

hearing you enter the room, he shifts from his curled position and tilts his head back to look behind him.

"hey," he says with a quiet chuckle, his features softening into a smile when he sees you. "feel better now after a shower?"

"mhm." you grin in the darkness and crouch down, claiming your spot next to him on the floor. his phone is plugged into the small tv at your feet, a reality show playing quietly on the screen. "what're you watching?"

he lifts his arm to throw the blanket over you before turning back to the tv. "dunno. something to fall asleep to. i paid for it on my phone."

you scoot closer, cuddling up behind him and gently putting your arm around him. "today was nice," you whisper. "really nice."

he turns his head to the side to face you, giving you a lazy smile. "yeah." he moves his arm on top of yours, rubbing his thumb along your wrist. his voice is warm and already thick with sleep, and you close your eyes, exhaling softly.

there's so much more you could say about your vacation today, but neither of you wants to disrupt the comfortable nighttime silence that has begun to settle over the rented house as sleep slowly starts to creep in on you. the unspoken words show in every gentle touch as you lie next to each other, relaxing in the moment you have together.

"i love you, cheollie," you whisper after a while. minutes have passed, and you're not even sure if he's still awake, but as you snuggle your face into his neck, the faint smell of his body wash lingering in your nose, you know you've never meant any words more than those.

"love you, too, baby," he whispers back a second later, and you lean closer to press the gentlest of kisses to the patch of skin below his ear. soon you hear his breathing even, and quiet snores fill the room. not long after you drift off too, a hint of a smile on both your faces.

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also tagging @duhnova for funsies

join my taglist here!

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

i dont send asks often and am kinda nervous but i discovered this blog after starting a fantasy worldbuilding thing ive been doing and i want to ask, should i be considering like, physics and the square cube law? it feels silly but i want my designs to feel plausible and biologically accurate, with my own twists on fantastical creatures.

dragons, specifically, are usually very large creatures, they also often fly. these are traits i want to keep, and have it still feel fantastical, but here are obvious issues here. there is magic, and it is connected to the world, and i could do something like changing gravity or atmosphere, but just saying it's magic feels like lazy cop-out, and changing the laws of physics is too drastic not to be explored, which feels to extreme for one creature. am i overthinking things? can i just handwave this sort of thing? i often don't see fantasy settings explore that sort of thing so idk im kinda lost here

You can hand wave a great deal of things and still also make fantasy creatures that feel plausible. My centaurs have the unusual biology of being born with extra limbs and ribs because they're all chimeric twins. I'm pretty sure it's genetically implausible for an entire species to be born with such remarkably consistent fused anatomy like that. But it's just enough of an explanation to make it feel a little more believable.

For dragons, I like to remind myself that humans have created airplanes at least as big as the average dragon and they work just fine. So maybe you can research how planes work. There are engines, certainly, but planes stay in the air despite being giant heavy metal tubes because of the way their shape interacts with air currents, essentially. So instead of flqpping a lot like a smaller animal, maybe your dragons are more like long distance soaring animals. Albatrosses come to mind. Getting off the ground is another problem, which can be solved by having the dragons soar from high places like cliffs and mountains.

You can also look to prehistory! The quetzalcoatlus was a pterosaur roughly as big as a giraffe and as far as science has determined, it could fly and even launch itself into the air from flat ground.

Here are a few more tips for making large dragons believable:

- bird bones. Contrary to popular belief, they're not completely hollow and they're not actually much lighter than mammal bones. But the open spaces and the mesh-like structure inside them give them a different sort of density and strength that helps them fly, as well as providing more space for internal air sacs that actually help them breathe more efficiently. (I'm on my phone right now, I'll add a source for that later) and we have evidence that this sort of air sac also existed in large dinosaurs like the diplodocus. Dragons probably would need similar structures in their bones.

- hot air balloons. Hot air rises and dragons breathe fire. Make use of those extensive air sacs and fill them with hot air! How dragons manage to have so much heat inside as reptiles is something you can hand wave with magic or find various science-type explanations for doeending on your mood. I like the idea in dungeon meshi where the dragon has a second stomach-like sac for the indigestible parts of its prey and uses that for fire fuel! It's very clever. Dragons may not be as thin and soft as a balloon, but having a body full of air sacs that carry hot air is a reasonable explanation for how dragons fly despite their size.

- wing shape and body shape! Long distance fliers that soar more than they flap usually have very long, narrow wings. And most flying animals also have shorter, rounded bodies. The dragon wing membrane should cover their whole side, from the shoulder to the hip, with a really big wingspan. Their tails probably shouldn't be all long and whippy and full of dense muscle, but maybe they can be flat and broad to catch air or maybe the wing membrane extends to the tail. Maybe you have tailless dragons! Just don't let the tails add too much weight or they'll make flying a lot harder.

- propulsion. One magic explanation I think would be interesting is if dragons used magic like airplane engines. Trying to work out magical gravity fields and atmospheric magic is cool and fun. But it seems like it would be easier for dragons to just have magic jet engines if you want to use magic to explain their flight. And it's fun!

I hope those are all helpful ideas! Dragons are cool and I love to see people messing around to make them more believable. There is nothing wrong with using a little magic fudge in fantasy worldbuilding either! It wouldn't be very fantasy if it always had to follow a hard science system. You can leave that to the scifi genre haha. But if you're going to dive into realism in fantasy, it is more fun to see people really dive deep and get weird with it and explore all sorts of interesting extra details, rather than just dipping a toe in and hand waving the rest. Maybe it's just the neurodivergence in me, but I always have more fun with fantasy stories if it feels like the creator had a real passion for the weird details and didn't just follow a standard fantasy template.

[bygiornogiovanna]

Hello there! Apologies if I sound rude! But may I request a scenario where Giorno and Josuke are hit by a Stand and act different?

Giorno acts hyper, bubbly and adorable while Josuke acts super shy, timid and cute? And Reader has to deal with all the cuteness?

Flip The Switch (Giorno Giovanna/Josuke Higashikata x GN! Reader)

anon, u are offically my ˢᵐᵒˡ bean. in your further requests *if there will be more, please sign yourself like that.

the images below represent both me when I read your request and saw how POLITE (and adorable) you were and y/n seeing josuke/giorno ily so much

also excuse that my requests are taking so long. i'm just lazy.

to anyone who requested something, I see your requests!!! and i am working on them, they will come...eventually haha

also, happy one year anniversary to this blog!

"You don't stand a chance against my stand, Y/N L/N!" bluffed the villain under the boss's command, Akari Massimo. He was a tall, light-skinned man, probably in his twenties. If you looked past his evilness, you would see a handsome young man, with golden eyes and a beautiful, healthy white hair, whose smile was nothing but sweet and charming. However...His power of turning one into its opposite wasn't that sweet and charming. His Stand, Flip The Switch, could turn you from woman to man, from sweet to mean, but worst of all...from powerful to weak. Of course, your lover could easily defeat him. The problem was...your lover wasn't there.

You were honestly scared. You weren't weak, but you weren't strong either, so you didn't know what his stand would do to you. You had to buy some time until him or his friends arrived. You couldn't risk it.

"Do you really think all that cheap talk will scare me? Oh please, I've encountered people way scarier than you!" you let yourself do what you knew the best: annoy people. He seemed one that loved his pride, and he wouldn't stand the fact that someone like you would dare insulting him like that.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut if you want to live! You have no idea what my stand, Flip The Switch, is capable of!" Massimo said and you huffed.

"What is it going to do? Turn me into a cat? Please, it sounds pathetic." you saw his left eye twitch and a satisfied smile crossed your face. "Actually, I wonder, if you use it on yourself, would it turn you into a clown or into the whole circus?" you gave him your sweetest, most fake smile.

You saw his stand appearing behind him and launching an attack towards you. You managed to avoid it, striking back, managing to scartch his face. "You fucking bitch, you scratched my handsome face! You'll pay for this!" he said and you swore you could see fume raising from his ears.

"Oh my..." you said, and before you knew it, another attack was right about to hit you, but...

☆Giorno Giovanna☆

"Not on my watch." You heard Giorno's voice and, suddenly, he appeared in front of you, blocking the hit with his body. You gasped and your eyes filled with tears when, after a few seconds, he didn't get up.

"Giorno!" you voice broke and you felt like your knees would give out when you saw your precious lover laying on the ground while clenching on his stomach.

"Awh, what a shame. Poor blondie boy couldn't save his poor little lover." Massimo said mockingly and he was about to say something else, but you heard Giorno mumble—Golden Experience Requiem.

"Uh oh...If I were you I would start saying my prayers." you said cockily and, before your enemy could react, he disappeared without a trace, probably trapped in the Infinite Death Loop. "Giorno, amore mio, are you okay?!" you rushed to his side, kneeling worriedly before him.

"Y/N..." he started softly and nothing seemed wrong...Until the blonde immediately crashed into your arms, hugging you tightly. "I missed you so much, tesoro!" Giorno yelled and you could swear you never heard him sound so excited.

"I-...Giorno, amore, are you okay?" you laughed and he hugged you tighter, laughing too. The moment you heard that, everything stopped.

Giorno Giovanna, the Don of Passione, laughed.

A sound so heavenly. You last heard him laugh more than two years ago. Giorno never laughs—all somebody, mostly you, can get out of him is a faint giggle. That's all.

You looked at him in shock and the blonde boy looked at you with a cute face, confused. "What's wrong, tesoro?" he asked in a smooth tone and he touched your cheek.

"...you laughed..." you whispered and a smile made its way onto your face. "It's been so long since I heard you laugh. Are you sure you are okay, amore?"

"I'm fine, promise. You don't have to worry about me." he said and his voice sounded ao tender, so smooth and soft, love-filled even. Although Giorno was never aggressive towards you, he never displayed his affection, and especially not in public.

You thought it was just the adrenaline and the fear of losing you making him act like that, but no. This kept going on for multiple days, Giorno acting the opposite of his usual personality.

In the small amounts of time you had alone, because, apparently, Giorno was extremly clingy, never leaving your side, you were thinking about what could've possibly happened for your dear boyfriend to act like this.

Then it hit you.

It was Massimo's stand.

Flip The Switch did that to your boyfriend.

Not that you complained, it was very cute to see your stoic boyfriend be a big baby, but...That wasn't Giorno. You had to talk with Bruno, to find a way...

Suddenly, your trail of thoughts was interrupted by your baby boyfriend coming home and directly jumping in your arms, whining about how much he missed you.

Giorno Giovanna, Italy's biggest man, was whining in your arms.

Yep, you had to do something about it.

☆Josuke Higashikata☆

"Not so fast." Josuke's smug voice could be heard and his tall frame shadowed yours, blocking the Stand's hit with his body. You felt like the world stopped when you saw your boyfriend groaned in pain, taking a few steps aside.

"Josuke!" you yelled and turned him to you. "Are you crazy?!"

"In love, yes." he said smugly and chuckled, clearing her throat. "See? I'm all fine, don't..." he stopped and then scrunched his nose, as if a rush of pain went through him. "Oi, Koichi, Okuyasu, handle this guy f'r me!" Josuke yelled and his two friends nodded, fighting with Massimo.

The pompadour boy fell to his knees, coughing a little. You kneeled by his side, softly rubbing his back, trying to comfort him.

"My love, are you okay?" you asked sweetly, your soft hands caressing his hair. You were the only one allowed to touch the man's hair whenever you want without getting yourself killed.

"I-...I...I a-am okay..." he stuttered, the sound of his words coming out as breathy. You were relived to hear, but then it hit you. Your boyfriend just stuttered.

Josuke Higashikata stuttered.

He shied away from your arms, hiding his blushing cheeks. You frowned confused and you looked between him and Massimo. Quickly, you put the pieces together.

It was Flip the Switch's work.

"Josuke..." you whispered to him and you hugged him tightly. Instead of hugging you back, he squirmed shyly, as he did the first time you hugged him. It made your heart melt and you chuckled softly.

"Y-Y/N what...a-are you doing?" he whispered back.

"Hugging my boyfriend? Is there something wrong?" you chuckled and hugged him tighter, making him blush embarrassed.

"N-no...Everything is okay..." his voice was barely above a whisper and he hugged you back, awkwardly and slowly.

You chuckled and nuzzled your face in his neck. Maybe it wasn't that bad that he protected you from Flip The Switch's attack—now you can be the one who teases and makes him flustered.

It will be fun. Won't it?

[suhjihanma]

☩ 𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕸𝖊 ☩

☩ Kink (7) : Rimming / Pr-state Play ☩ Word count: 714 words ☩ Pairing: Toji Fushiguro / Female ! Reader Content Warning: Rimming, pr-state play, lot of ass eating, submission play, teasing, dirty talk, Toji loves being submissive. ☩ Author's Note: Minors and kink shamers DNI. Also, why isn't there a lot of submissive Toji? I wrote this on a tipsy binge and I might had too much fun with this. It feels like I've gotten lazy with kinktober but. work has been kicking my butt lately, man. The master list for all of my stories is listed on my blog. Reblogs, likes, mainly reblogs and likes are appreciated. Also, I need to study for my entrance exams soon.

You can't get enough of him.

Lapping away carefully across salted muscle, you thank yourself for having a man whose body was familiar with submission.Once fully adopting of dominant tendencies, persuasion was brought out as you wanted to try something new in the bedroom. It wasn’t as if the four walls of intimacy became dull, rather; it became of piqued interest in that lustful mind of yours. Trying out new activities was a normalcy in spicing up your relationship. Then again, with a skeptical mind of Toji, you knew that activities such as this would be more of an encouragement on his part. 

“Your ass tastes amazing, baby. It’s even getting all wet and needy for me, too. Fuck.” 

Muffled words were being met by a man too drunk to be eaten out from.

Still, you didn’t expect the man to be spilling out randomness of curses and endless moans. What’s even more bothering is the fact that he was in a position so vulnerable that the familiar pool between your legs grew to become more wet to your tightly closed legs. With just a little bit of playfully teasing his body, to the well-formed muscles, along to the sensitive calves, Toji presented himself on all fours, begging for the next lick or suckle. Head lowered to the floor, panting, crossing with the sounds of sucking that came from your lips, to his ass high in the air as both of your hands were spreading both muscles apart, massaging them ever so gently with your nimble hands. 

You wanted to take things slow. Seeing how this is all new to Toji, you didn’t want to press any more limits than necessary. As you were continuing to gently lap around the tightened muscle, you prodded around the opening with the tip of your tongue. The search of wanting more of his taste awakened hunger as you carefully brought one finger and slightly pressed down at the entrance. Not wanting harm done, your digit slowly went inside, saliva given as aid. 

Toji realized what was going on and before he boasted out a line of protests, a dragged out moan escaped from the lips touching the floor. He wondered how long he could keep up with your torture. As long as he coats the floor white, or as long as you keep fucking him with your tongue? Whatever possible outcome may occur, Toji knows certainly that he won’t last long in this unforgiving state. 

His hips were noticeably rutting against the rhythm of your fingers, and you couldn’t help but to place a small kiss on his ass. Encouraging his behavior, you continued to let himself fuck your fingers before he lets out another dragged moan. You looked over at Toji’s fallen head as your fingers started to probe deeply inside him, reaching a firm yet soft sponge-like surface. Gently massaging the area with the top surface of your finger. It’s almost as if you might have hit a nerve inside the poor man. Toji’s head turned to the side, meeting your face with an unpleasant grimace. He didn’t seem to be in pain yet it could be overlapping with the sense of pleasure from the sensitive organ. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck. Trying to milk my prostate, too?” He questions you, moans in between thrusts. 

“Why not? Is it wrong of me to fuck my man with my fingers?” Your tone of voice now suddenly goes in a moan as you continue to work your soft fingers inside his firm walls, back slowly beginning to arch as each nerve was stimulated from the brushes. 

A strong expression of content spread across your face before your fingers gently massage the sensitive organ that made him cry out in pleasure. His hips bucked continuously as his breathing grew to be more labored. The sense of being vulnerable was starting to rot from Toji’s mind. Everything became too much, yet you knew he was loving every minute of his sex getting played with. With every muffled cry or cuss, you knew he wasn’t going to last that long. 

Even you questioned yourself as to why he hasn’t come yet.

Still, it was good enough that the cries from him were making you want to taste every bit of nectar that secreted from this man. 

[movedto-mrs-bluemarine]

VASILY CONTENT!!

Ik I have a whole ass blog for this shit but I know it won't get any attention over there (lol) so I'm posting it here 🫶 minors dni please and thanks, content warning for guns and um. Um. (No sex just extremely suggestive) I like to imagine Vas gets very antsy when he's flustered. It's my new favorite thing. I love torturing men.

Oh yeah um normal text in speech is English, whereas italics is meant to signify Russian. Until friends come in, in which case normal text is Japanese. She's a multilingual queen ok. (And I hc Vasily knows very little English)

“Dobroye utro, Vasily.”

The man's head immediately snapped up upon hearing her kind voice. The blonde woman was making her way through the trees, smiling down pleasantly as the Russian man was settled on the ground, rifle in hand. Her deep blue eyes took notice of the gun. The butt rested on the snowy floor, the barrel pointing at the sky above, while Vasily tinkered with something on its side. Curious, the German woman joined him, watching and teasing him as he worked. “Playing with toys?”

The redhead huffed, ignoring her little comment which made her giggle. She leaned in closer. Her hand rested on his knee. “Why, it's certainly a pretty toy… I think I've seen it before, Mosin-Nagant, ja?”

Impressed by her knowledge, Vasily nodded. His silent praise only made her smile widen. “I'm not too familiar with weapons, but my father being the man he was, he was very interested in what was used in the war, he talked to me about some of it… ah, but I'm rambling. You barely understand a word I'm saying.”

Her eyes traveled lower down his rifle. What amused her was the position of it, settled between his legs the way it was… it reminded her of another weapon of his she had the pleasure of seeing just a couple nights ago. How lucky she was to have such a caring, giving man to keep her warm in that cave…

Vasily didn't seem to notice her darkened gaze as fire licked at her insides. Oh, she couldn't help herself. She was a needy woman. The snow around them, the silence of the early morning forest, it all did little to pull her out of her fantasies. She was painfully aware that it was just the two of them again. Shiraishi and Sugimoto were nowhere to be seen, probably still out searching for that precious “white”.

One of her soft hands touched his on the grip of the rifle. He wasn't wearing his mittens, so she got to feel the warm, rough skin of his fingers. These same fingers that were on her when they-

“Is it loaded?” She asked as a precaution. Brows furrowed, Vasily shook his head with a low grunt.

Her fingers drew apart from his, caressing the magazine and traveling up the forestock of the gun. “Pretty… Not as pretty as your other gun.” Her words confused him. However, the way her hand moved… it gave him a suggestion of what she was talking about. It was terribly… sultry. The idea of what she was hinting at made his heart flutter in an foreign, uncomfortable way.

Her mind searched and searched for something more she could whisper to him in that unfamiliar language. She cursed herself for getting lazy with her Russian, who knew that she'd need it for something as important as him.

She leaned in closer, resting on her palm, ignoring the frosty bite of the ice beneath it. Her hand started moving, slowly pumping up and down the stock of his gun with a ghostly touch, her deep blue eyes pinning him down. “You're a good shot, not just with a rifle, y'know.”

That slow, quiet voice of hers speaking in his tongue, it did things to him. His mind was spinning, eyes fighting between her hand and her beautiful face, and trying not to peek at the collar of her button-up from the new angle.

Vasily huffed, a cute splotch of color coming onto what of his face she could see peeking from underneath his hood. She wasn't sure he even noticed how his own thighs lifted, spreading slightly, giving her more access to his weapon. The blonde purred, stopping her hand where the wood of his gun became metal. She firmly grasped the barrel. He acted like he felt her touch, thighs abruptly clamping shut, eyes unable to look away from her hand now. Her thumb rubbed the smooth cold metal, making its way to his tip. “...I'm not a fan of getting shot by bullets, but I wouldn't mind if you shot me with something else.”

A little giggle left her mouth as she heard the redhead curse, sounding like a garbled mess due to cloth and his ruined jaw. While his eyes were occupied, her face leaned in closer to his neck. She could feel his heat, could practically hear the drumming of his heart.

“You should teach me how to shoot someday, ja? I'd like to get some more practice with you. I'd love to feel it in my own two hands.”

Her hand touched his gun with nothing but affection in every caress. Even as her index finger reached the bottom of the long muzzle, circling it with her fingertip. Her eyes didn't leave his, watching desire and embarrassment and excitement all swirl behind those beautiful bright irises of his. Vasily's finger felt the biting cold of metal burning into his finger, slowly getting oh, so close to losing his damn mind. She decided one last little tease is what she'd give him. Putting on a sickeningly sweet voice that feigned embarrassment. “I do have some practice, but not a lot… Can you show me around, sokrovishche?”

Then there was the sound of a soft, familiar click. Seemed like the sudden sound got Vasily to snap out of his daze, his eyes lowering and focusing on his finger wrapped tight around the trigger of his rifle that was hitting the inside of the guard. Getting to see him so flustered got a laugh out of the woman. She leaned in closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “What do you say, dear? Please? Oh, don't make a girl beg.”

“Franz! Hood! Where the hell are ya’?!”

Siraishi’s voice bounced off the fresh snow, defeat and irritation present in his tone while he and Sugimoto came back to Heita’s hut empty handed.

“Ah, there you two are.” Sugimoto chimed in, watching Vasily practically drag the German woman behind him over a hill, huffing and puffing, face nearly as red as his hair. “What the hell’s gotten into him?”

“I suggested he teach me how to shoot his rifle, and he got so excited!” Franziska beamed. “I guess he’s really eager to show me!”

“I’ll say.” Shiraishi eyed the Russian man pulling Franz away from the group. “Maybe we should go with you-” Sugimoto tried to suggest.

“Oh, that’s okay! Vasil tells me he’s a better teacher when it’s one-on-one” Franziska smiled, showing teeth and closing her eyes. She called out before getting too far– barely fighting the man pulling her away from the rest, “We shouldn’t be gone for too long, I’m sure we’ll be alright on our own!”

Sugimoto waved them off. “Okay, don’t go too far! Hey, and be on the lookout for any bears!”

“And bring back something to eat!”

The blackhead turned, noticing the new, devious look on his friend's face, “Something wrong, Shiraishi?”

“Hmph, just thinking. I think I know that look. Hah! Haha!” Shiraishi skittered away, laughing evilly to himself. “I'd know it all too well…”

“...Is there something happening that I should know?” Sugimoto questioned while following him.

“Heh.” Shiraishi scratched his nose. “Nothing you should worry about. I'm sure Franz and Riding Hood will be okay, and if I'm right, we won't be missing them for too long.”

[lillambtotheslaughter]

HI HI \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/ and welcome to my blog! You may know me from my main blog @lelandmylove but here in this blog I mainly focus on posting about my Tcsm OCs ☀️Cindy Mayfield☀️ and 🪻Jolene Olight🪻!

There will be NO NSFW on this page but light flirting with the OCs here and there won't hurt! If you don't like my page and what I post simply block me or don't interact with my page! Tw for violence, murder, injuries, cannibalism, self harm, being force fed, Child abuse, and Emotional abuse and yeah while I'm not really that confident in my writing this is just a head ups of what will be shown on this page.

Rules for this blog

• Obviously no spreading hate

• Don't use my characters without asking me first or notifying me that you will be using them for something

• DON'T BE WEIRD AND SEXUALIZE MY OC'S

• And most importantly just have fun here!

•THIS IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR PEOPLE WHO SHIP ANY OF THE FAMILY MEMBERS TOGETHER GET THE FUCK OFF MY PAGE!

•Basic DNI

I will write (if I'm confident enough) and draw for my OCs here on this page and you are allowed to ask questions about any of them if you want! Now onto my OCs ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧

☀️ Cynthia (Cindy) Mayfield☀️

🏵️Mood board🏵️

Lore: (I'm sorry the creator himself doesn't even know unfortunately he's just making stuff up as he goes.)

🪻Jolene Olight🪻 (she does not use the swayers last name.)

🍇Mood board🍇

(Sorry the creator doesn't have his shit together so it's still being made😒)

Lore: (surprisingly the creator does have her lore but he's too lazy to fix it up and make it make more sense because he wrote it months ago half asleep) While coming back from a trip into town Nancy stumbled across what she thought to be an empty box abandoned on the side of the road but upon further inspection was surprised when she laid eyes on a few week old baby with the name "Jolene Olight" written on a small piece of paper taped onto the worn out blanket she was wrapped in. Thinking it was another one of "gods blessings" she carefully reached into the box, gently picking up the fragile baby girl and cradling it in her arms with a bright smile on her face deciding that she would keep it and raise it as her own just as she did with her Johnny. Upon taking her home with her Johnny was the first person to find out about the newest addition to the family, and of course being ten years old at the time wasn't all that happy about having a sibling he'd have to help take care of. But all that changed after a few years of having her as a sister, the two grew close during Jolene's childhood and from the moment she could walk Johnny started taking her with him on little hunts, teaching her how to sneak up on prey and capture rabbits and field mice. Even being there when she caught her very first hare and her very first kill when she turned 13. Later on he'd go on to gift her a switch blade he'd found off one of the victims bodies which is the same exact one she uses now in present times. While growing up in the house Jolene would often be left at the house with bubba and nubbins whenever a hunt was going on however instead of staying with them she would sneak off and stay with Grandpa the whole time talking to him about bugs and sometimes even complaining about Nancy and Johnny. Even though he wouldn't respond to her that didn't stop her from continuing to talk his head off all the way until she was picked up by Johnny to go back home where she would give his legs a hug and then run off to go home. While she isn't the strongest family member there or even the smartest her small and lean frame helps with her stamina allowing her to keep up with victims making sure to always give them a good chase. It's like a game of tag to her.

Ability (Savior): SAVIOR CAN ONLY BE ACTIVATED ONCE BLOOD BOTTLE IS FULL AND IF GRANDPA IS STUNNED. ONCE SAVIOR IS ACTIVATED GRANDPA AROMATICALLY GETS OUT OF THE STUNNED STATE NO LONGER HAVING TO WAIT FOR THE COOL DOWN AND BACK TO HIS ORIGINAL LEVEL HE WAS AT BEFORE BEING STUNNED. THIS ABILITY SAVIOR CAN ONLY BE USED TWICE THROUGH THE WHOLE GAME AND MUST BE USED WISELY FOR THOSE STICKY SITUATIONS. WOULDN'T WANT A VICTIM TO GET OFF THIS PROPERTY NOW WOULD WE?

(please be nice to the creator he will cry.)

[downwiththeficness]

The Usurper-Chapter Twenty Seven

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~4,800

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

Start at the Beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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The church was as she remembered it. Brick building. Lots of stairs. Big steeple reaching towards the sky. Lilah slouched in the back seat of Seth’s car, hoping that no one would recognize her. The brothers were less worried. Richie’s arm hung out the passenger side window, cigarette held between two fingers while Seth leaned his seat back and stared at the church.

The night was clear and cool. Lilah could feel a gentle breeze coming in from the open window. It carried with it the smell of earth and nicotine. The street was mostly empty, save for a pair of lovers walking side by side in a lazy stroll. Their steps brought the women in and out of the streetlights above, illuminating the adoring upturned gaze of the shorter of the two. She grinned at her partner while holding onto their arm, trusting them to lead her safely along. The taller woman’s expression was half hidden by the wide brim of a hat, but Lilah thought she could see an answering smile on her face. The sight of them sauntering past the car was wonderfully incongruous.

Lilah tapped the screen of her phone. Brasa hadn’t responded to her comments about the hotels. She read her message again, just in case she’d been too critical. No. No, she hadn’t. While the all inclusive resort was enticing, she didn’t think they needed that many amenities. It was just going to be a few days filled with really, really good sex. No need for a personal concierge or unlimited access to a spa. All Lilah required was a hot shower and a comfortable place to lay down. She kept imagining waking up in a really nice bed, eating something other than gas station food or the greasy offerings from the bar. She imagined lazy naps on sunny balconies. And Brasa. She thought a lot about Brasa. The first time they were intimate, Lilah was too overwhelmed by the venom to really appreciate what was happening. In the dream they shared, she got to feel every touch of his hand. Every kiss was potent. Lilah could still remember how it felt to have him inside her, demanding that she promise to see him. A promise she was keen to fulfill as soon as possible.

“What’s our window?”

Lilah blinked back to attention, “Uh, the morning services won’t start for a few hours.”

Seth looked over his shoulder at her, “That’s a wide window.”

She hummed, “For a job that’s going to take two minutes, tops.”

“If its still where you stashed it.”

Lilah shot him a baleful glance, “In all the months I cased that place, they never once cleaned under the stage. Its still there.”

Seth and Richie were silent. Lilah looked from one to the other, waiting for some kind of response. When one wasn’t forthcoming, she settled deeper into the seat and looked at her phone. Still no message. Lilah resisted the urge to send another text. Brasa was as busy as she was and she should really be focusing on the job. The faster she got it over with, the faster she could take her little vacation.

Eager to get started, Lilah tucked her phone away and sat forward, “Should we go in?”

Seth shook his head, “Not yet. There’s a lot of traffic right now.”

“Its two in the morning.” Lilah replied easily. “There’s no one outside.”

“So? People are leaving the bars right about now,” Seth shot back. “We’ll wait.”

Richie flicked his cigarette away, “Be patient. You still got the keys?”

She nodded, “I do.”

Her hand rested on the clutch containing Antonio’s key ring and various other items she’d picked up. It would be nothing to walk right up to the church doors and unlock them. Then, head down the aisle and snag that staff from beneath the stage. Lilah was fairly confident that this would be the shortest, and easiest, job she’d ever pulled. The easiest job with the highest stakes.

The project of finding all the relics Amaru needed to open the door was almost finished. They were now in possession of the book, the cup, and would be in possession of the staff very soon. All that was left was the knife. Lilah had no idea where it had gone. There was no documentation in either of the books about who had it last or if it had been stolen or sold. There wasn’t even a picture, just a crude drawing of a small blade with a jeweled hilt. She did some searching in a few reliable archives, but came up short where the location was concerned. The silver lining was, if Lilah couldn’t find the knife, it was unlikely that Amaru could find it, either. Besides, three out of four wasn’t a bad outcome. Especially since all four relics were needed to complete the ritual.

Leaning against the door, Lilah stared out of the window. Down the road was her old apartment. She could just barely see the building from where they were parked. Her rental car was still sitting in the lot. Months had gone by and no one had touched it. She was surprised by that. When they were done with getting the staff, she was going to run over there and get some of her stuff from the trunk. Lilah wanted her laptop and her favorite pair of jeans back.

Time passed slowly, until dawn was not more than forty five minutes away. Lilah leaned forward and reminded Seth that his brother wasn’t going to do too hot in sunlight, which seemed to spur him into action. She stepped out of the car behind Richie, who tossed yet another cigarette to the ground. The three of them walked across the street and into the parking lot at a measured pace. Lilah cast furtive glances all around, noting that the three of them were alone in the silence of the night. As far as she was concerned, this was as good as they could expect for privacy.

Lilah climbed the stairs ahead of Richie and behind Seth. Both of them had their hands tucked into the material of their jackets and the knowledge that they were armed was a comfort. She stuck the key into the deadbolt. It turned with a soft ‘click’. Lilah let out a breath, relieved that they hadn’t changed the locks in her absence.

Inside, it was just as dark as it was outside. The room was draped in shadows and the occasional slash of color from the stained glass. Nothing had changed, not even the faintly musty smell of the cushioned pews. Lilah hesitated only a moment to ensure the sanctuary was, indeed, empty. Then, she walked right up the center aisle towards the stage. There, she knelt and reached into the darkness beneath.

It was right where she left it. Lilah grasped the cool metal of the staff and held it up to the limited light. She felt the knot of anxiety she hadn’t even known was there loosen. Three relics down. One to go.

Richie walked up to her, “That it?”

Lilah stood, “Yep.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Seth moved closer, “You never told us who paid you to steal it in the first place.”

“I did,” came a voice from near the door.

Three heads swiveled around to find six or seven men blocking their exit. Flashlights lit the aisle atop semi automatic rifles that were pointed right at them. In the middle stood a middle aged man in a very expensive suit. His soft gray hair was swept away from his brow in a way that was meant to look careless, but couldn’t be accomplished without pomade, a round brush, and a hair dryer.

“Who the fuck are you?” Seth asked. His voice was much more polite than his words and he’d taken a step towards the men to put himself between them and his brother.

Lilah didn’t have to ask the question. She recognized the voice. She also didn’t have to ask what he was doing here. Mr. Pickerelle must have been watching the little town the whole time, waiting for Lilah to come back for her prize. She shifted the staff to hide it behind her thigh, as if that would do any good. Fear wandered around in her body, pumping adrenaline into her system. She widened her stance, not sure how this was going to play out. In her back pocket, her phone rang. Lilah ignored it. Whatever it was, it would wait until she wasn’t in mortal danger.

“I am Mr. Pickerelle. Who are you?”

“Seth Gecko. Nice to meet you. What do you want?”

Mr. Pickerelle moved in the shadow of his men. The lights above the sanctuary flickered on, illuminating the danger of the situation. It wasn’t six or seven men. It was closer to fifteen. All armed. All pointing their guns in their direction. Lilah’s heart kicked up a notch while her phone rang again. She kept ignoring it. There was no way in hell she was going to move an inch right now.

“All I want,” Mr. Pickerelle said amiably. “is your partner over there. You give me Ms. McNamara and our business if finished.”

Seth turned to look at her, “What’d you do to piss him off?”

She shrugged, “I walked out on the job.”

“Walked out?”

“Was dragged out,” Lilah amended. “by Brasa.”

“Ah. Not your fault, then.”

“Not really. And, I did call Mr. Pickerelle to let him know I couldn’t deliver.”

“Very professional of you.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“If you are finished,” Mr. Pickerelle interrupted. He waited for Seth to pay attention to him, then said, “Hand her over. You walk free.”

Seth’s chin dropped, “If we don’t?”

Lilah recognized the look on his face. Half challenge, half anger. Seth was raring for a fight and the odds against them didn’t matter. She stepped back and over so that she was half hidden by the pew. The wood wouldn’t last very long, but Lilah thought she could duck down for cover and scuttle out the back door fairly easily. From there, she would have to cross the courtyard to climb the wall into the alley behind the church and haul ass as far and fast as she could. All of that was predicated on not getting shot.

Where are you?

The words drifted through her mind softly at first. A rush of warmth came along with them. Heat suffused her temples, running along the sides of her head to the base of her neck. When the question was repeated, it was with much more force. Brasa’s voice demanded an answer. Her phone rang a third time. Lilah’s hand twitched to answer it. She squeezed her fingers into her fist to keep herself to reaching for her pocket. While Seth had Mr. Pickerelle distracted, Lilah focused on the image of Brasa and showed him a mental picture of where she was. The church, the church, the church.

I am coming.

Lilah sucked in a relieved gasp. The heat lifted from her neck, leaving her with only Brasa’s promise. She didn’t know how long it would take, but she was absolutely sure that Brasa would be there soon. Very soon. Even now, she could feel him moving with inhuman speed, closing the distance. Her attention returned to the room and Mr. Pickerelle’s smug face. He had no idea what was coming for him.

“If you don’t,” he said. “I’ll fill this whole room with lead and leave you to bleed out.”

For the first time, Richie spoke, “You’re assuming we won’t kill you first.”

Mr. Pickerelle laughed, “You know, I’ve heard of you—the Gecko brothers. I’ve heard you’re ballsy men. I’m so glad the rumors are true.” His expression sobered, “Don’t let your ballsy nature get you killed, gentlemen. I assure you, she isn’t worth it.”

Seth took a step forward, “I think you’re underestimating us. And her.”

“Couldn’t have said it better, brother,” Richie chimed in. She couldn’t see his face, but Lilah knew he was wearing that shit eating grin he wore whenever he knew he had the upper hand.

Lilah let a small smile cross her lips. As new as their partnership was, and as rocky as it had been, she was gratified to hear that Seth actually liked her. Richie, too. For once, Lilah wasn’t going to be forced to act alone in order to protect herself.

“You can’t honestly be willing to die for her,” Mr. Pickerelle asserted. “Just so we’re clear, that is exactly what is going to happen if you don’t hand her over.”

“Oh, you were clear,” Richie said. He was moving steadily closer and there was a dangerous cant to his shoulders.

Mr. Pickerelle nodded. “Alright. You know the terms. What is your answer?”

Seth rolled his eyes, “The fuck do you think?”

“Well,” Mr. Pickerelle sighed, “I guess I can’t fault you for loyalty. No matter how ill placed.” He turned to walk out of the sanctuary, “Good bye gentleman.” His hand lifted in her direction, “Lilah.”

The room was quiet as Mr. Pickerelle walked away with a few of his guards. Lilah readied herself to dive beneath the pews. It didn’t matter that there weren’t quite so many people pointing guns at them. They were still outnumbered. Why hadn’t she brought the pistol Seth gave her? She’d left it laying beneath her bed along with the cash she took from the casino job.

“How many can you get to?” Seth asked in a conversational tone.

“About three. Maybe four.” Richie was still moving towards the gunmen.

“Still leaves six or seven to me.”

Richie tossed his brother a look, “You’re complaining?”

A shrug, “Its just a little uneven.”

One of the guards stepped forward, gun raised. He was probably in his mid forties and he held his weapon like he knew what to do with it. The others followed him at a distance, most of them baby faced and hesitant. That would work in their favor. Lilah spared them half a second of empathy. None of them were going to make it out of this room alive. They might get in a few good shots, but Richie was going to be so much fast and so much deadlier.

“Listen,” the guard said, “I don’t want to have to do this. Just give us the woman and walk away.”

Seth glared at him, “I think we already said no.”

“I will kill you. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t. You can still walk away.”

“So can you,” Seth retorted angrily. “Lower your weapons and head out. We’ll forget this ever happened.”

“I can’t do t—“

His head was rolling on the floor before Lilah even registered that Richie moved. She stared at it in wide eyed horror while a scream slowly built up in her throat. The noise of it was overshadowed by bullets being fired by the guards that remained. Richie zipped right along the line of them and, true to his word, ripped the throats out of the first four in succession. Seth had his gun out and covered him with the occasional shot, but it didn’t look like Richie really needed it. He was just too fast.

Lilah watched all of this from what felt like an ocean of distance. People were killing and dying in front of her and she was just standing there. At least, she was just standing there until a bullet whizzed by and clipped her in the side. Her knees gave out and she felt to the carpet with a cry. The pain was so sharp that tears welled up in her eyes, temporarily blurring her vision.

She’d never been shot before. Kicked and tackled and punched, sure. But, not shot. It hurt more than she expected it to. Like someone holding a white hot poker against her skin. Leaning into the pain only seemed to make it worse. She rotated slowly on her hip and tugged up the material of her shirt. The wound wasn’t very deep, but it fucking hurt. It was also bleeding heavily. Blood that looked too red soaked her shirt and fell down into the waistband of her jeans. Lilah clamped a hand over it to stem the flow while she struggled to get her legs beneath her. By the time she peeked out from the top of the pew, the room had gone silent. Only two people were left standing.

“Someone will have heard that,” Richie announced.

Seth wiped his brow, “Yeah. We should jet. Lilah?”

“Over here,” she called out. “I’m hit.”

With a loud oath, Seth hustled over to her, “Where?”

“Side,” Lilah answered. “Its a flesh wound, but I’m losing a lot of blood.”

Seth checked the wound, “That’s gonna leave a nasty scar. Let’s get you outside. I’ve got a first aid kit in the trunk.”

“¿Hola?”

Lilah froze, “Oh no.”

Standing at the door was Señora Abascal. The little old woman held her purse in front of her while she studied the many bodies littering the floor. Richie, who was still standing in the aisle, turned and grinned, “Go home, ma’am. This isn’t for you.”

Bless her, Señora Abascal held her ground, “No. You kill?”

He nodded, “I kill.”

Another round of screams filtered in from the parking lot. In her pain, Lilah could not feel how close Brasa had come. She didn’t have a single doubt as to what was happening to Mr. Pickerelle and the rest of his men. The screams continued for a long minute, followed by the sound of an engine roaring away.

Señora Abascal stared into the darkness, pacing slowly backwards. She nearly tripped over a fallen body before grabbing the end of a pew and righting herself. Lilah could see that her thin, frail fram was shaking, but the woman stood tall. She was proud of her. The scene outside the church was guaranteed to scar her for life, but the Gecko brothers weren’t the only people in the room that were ballsy.

Dizzy and a little bit nauseous, Lilah let her weight fall until she sat on the floor. Her entire side and the carpet beneath her were soaked in blood. She looked at the gash again with a pained wince. It was going to take more than a few stitches to close it up. She could feel how cold and clammy her skin was becoming and she knew she needed to get to a hospital.

Seth leaned over from where he was crouched beside her and said, “You’re late.”

Brasa’s voice was so very, very welcome, “Where is she?”

“Here,” Seth replied in a low voice. “She’s been, uh, shot. A little.”

The air moved and Brasa was suddenly kneeling next to Lilah. His expression was all concern as he touched her face. The cool leather was a balm against her cheek. Lilah leaned into his palm, “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” he muttered. “But, you will be.”

In a smooth, practiced movement, Brasa shrugged off his heavy coat. He was wearing a navy sweater beneath that accentuated the strength of his body. Lilah very much wanted to press into that body for comfort, but the sweater looked pretty expensive and she was covered in blood.

Brasa pushed up his sleeve and took a knife from his pocket, “You’re not going to argue with me.”

Knowing what he meant, Lilah simply nodded, “No argument here.”

“Good. Drink.”

As his forearm lifted towards her mouth, Lilah heard Seth scoff above them. She looked up at him to find that he was walking away. There wasn’t much time to think about his reaction. Brasa’s blood was pouring into her mouth. Hot and sweet. Lilah whined as she drank deeply, her hands holding his arm to her lips. Like most things where Brasa was concerned, his blood sent little frissons of pleasure all over. The pain in her side waned to a dull ache and her nausea faded away. It was better than any painkiller she’d ever taken.

Brasa pulled his arm away. Lilah reluctantly let him. She ran a hand over her mouth to catch a few errant drops and sucked them from her fingers. Brasa’s hand at the back of her head tightened and he groaned low. Lilah caught his eyes. In them, there was concern for her well being. Behind that, however, was a fire that she recognized. One that she shared.

“We gotta go!” Seth yelled. “Police’ll be here soon.”

Lilah tried to stand, wincing all the way. Brasa let her try once, twice, three times, before he leaned down and scooped her up into a bridal carry. Lilah hissed when the movement pulled on her wound, earning a soft apology from Brasa. He cradled her against his chest and moved carefully down the aisle. Even with the support of Brasa’s blood, Lilah struggled to withhold the little whimpers of pain.

Seth and Richie were standing next to each other. Both of them were watching Brasa as he moved closer. Too tired to provide any kind of explanation to them, Lilah laid her head on Brasa’s shoulder and tried to relax. Every step he took sent sharp pain into her side. She gripped his sweater and breathed through it.

“You need to get her to a hospital,” Seth asserted firmly. Beside him, Richie lit a cigarette and nodded in agreement.

Brasa paused, “I’ll take care of her.”

“You better.” Seth crossed his arms and stepped aside, leaving a path open to the door.

Señora Abascal was still there, sitting in the pew, watching the whole thing. She had taken a seat and Lilah saw her rosary beads hanging from one hand. As Brasa walked closer, she crossed herself. Lilah thought she could hear an Our Father come whispering from her lips.

Brasa slowed his step as he went by, “Señora...go home. Forget this.”

She said nothing and crossed herself again. Lilah didn’t know what the old woman might be thinking. Likely, she was as shell shocked and bewildered at Lilah had been the night Brasa first revealed himself to her. She hoped that Señora Abascal would go home, find some sleep, and wake up in the sunlight thinking this was all a bad dream.

The trip down the steps was so excruciating that Lilah barely noticed the bodies strewn across the pavement. Every movement pulled on the gash in her side until it overcame the power of Brasa’s blood. She bit down on a cry of pain, “We have to stop. I can’t. It hurts too much.”

Brasa stopped, “I have to carry you somewhere to heal.”

“I know you didn’t bring a car,” she wheezed. “and you can’t run with me. I won’t make it.” Lilah breathed deep, “Put me down.”

“Lilah…”

“Put me down. I have keys to a car parked at my apartment. Silver sedan. Go get it. Bring it here. Take me somewhere in that.”

He hesitated, but eventually put her down. Lilah handed him the keys and waved him off. While she waited for him to come back, Lilah leaned her weight on her elbows and listened to the footsteps walking down the steps towards her. Richie and Seth appeared on either side of her.

“You gonna be okay?” Richie asked between drags on the stick in his hand.

“I think so,” she answered. “Gonna hurt for a bit.”

Seth started walking down the steps again. “You call us if you need anything. Don’t forget, we still have another job to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she drawled. Then, to Richie, “Sun’s coming up. You need to get underground.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mocked, but he followed his brother, anyways.

Brasa returned with her car, pulling it so close to the stairs that she thought he might drive it straight up to her. Between one heartbeat and the next, he was lifting her into his arms. He set her gingerly into the passenger’s seat and closed the door. Through the front windshield, Lilah saw Seth and Richie in their own car, watching. They waited until Brasa dropped into the driver’s seat before the engine turned over and the car sped away. Lilah sent them an affectionate wave.

The drive into the desert was a blur of slowly growing sunlight. Lilah went in and out of consciousness, holding her side all the way. It wasn’t until Brasa put the car in park that she realized where he’d taken her. The massive boulder looked much the same—totally and indescribably nondescript.

Brasa opened the passenger’s side door and reached for her. Lilah held up a hand, telling him that she could do it. He looked doubtful, but let her try. She managed to get herself to standing, but had to lean against the car when her head began to swim. Brasa, having reached the end of his patience, picked her up again and carried her to the hidden door. She rolled her eyes when he opened it with one hand, thinking that he was showing off even when she was injured. Inside, there was a significant change.

“You put an elevator in.”

“I did.”

“Did it take two weeks?”

Brasa smiled, “A little longer than that.”

The doors opened and he stepped inside. They closed again and the carriage hummed as it began to descend. They opened to a dark, familiar hall. Brasa stepped out in to the darkness and turned left. In the home he was making for them, Lilah noticed more changes. Lighting had been installed and the rough walls were now smooth. There were more rooms now, hidden behind dark holes in the rock. Brasa moved swiftly down a tunnel on the far wall. He took a turn and entered a room that Lilah recognized from one of their shared dreams. A large room with a bed that should have been, but wasn’t, lit by candles.

Instead of placing her on the bed, Brasa took another turn into an adjacent room. He set her on the counter and reached over to turn on the light. Lilah passed a hand over her face and looked around blearily. “How did you get plumbing down here?”

Brasa shot her a confused look, “That’s your question?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“We had plumbing before.”

“Oh. Right. Forget I said anything. Blame it on the blood loss.”

He shook his head, “Let me look at it.”

Lilah lifted an arm so that he could pull her shirt up, “Its not that bad.”

“Its a gunshot wound,” Brasa said. “It doesn’t have to be bad to kill you.”

He wasn’t wrong. It definitely could have been worse, especially given the number of bullets that were flying around the sanctuary at the time. Lilah could have ended out with her brains splattered all over the carpet.

“Lucky for me that you’re here to make me feel better.”

Brasa’s expression didn’t change as he examined the gash, “You’re healing already.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“You haven’t had an infusion of my blood in a while. I wasn’t certain how long it would take to close.”

Lilah touched his arm, “I know. Thank you for being there.”

He met her eyes briefly, then grabbed the hem of her shirt, “Up.”

She let him undress her down to her underwear and bra. Then, she let him use a soft cloth to clean away the blood. His touch was gentle, but persistent. Not a drop of red missed his notice. When he was done, he helped her down from the counter and walked with her back into the bedroom.

“Can I get something to wear?” Lilah asked. “I don’t want to get blood all over if the wound hasn’t fully closed.”

Brasa nodded solemnly and brought her a t shirt from the dresser against the wall. She took it and pulled it carefully over her body. The pain from the stretch on her side was less than it had been an hour or so before—further evidence of the power of Brasa’s blood. Once she had the shirt on, Lilah performed the age-old magic trick of taking off her bra through the sleeve, tossing it onto the pile of bloody clothing on the bathroom floor. She did the same with her underwear. When she returned her attention to Brasa, he was holding back a grin.

Lilah cocked her head to the side, “What?”

The grin began to pull harder at his lips, “You were naked underneath me days ago and you’re suddenly shy?”

She paused, “Uh. Yeah. I guess. Its a habit.”

“You’ve been undressing in front of other people lately?”

Lilah sensed the danger in his words, “No. Not lately, at least.”

Brasa walked forward and curled a finger under her chin, “Just me, from now on. Yes?”

Her agreeable nod was interrupted by a yawn. He chuckled lightly and leaned down to kiss her lightly. A hand at her back led her to the bed and Lilah climbed into the sheets. It didn’t matter that the sun was shining through the skylight above. She’d been up all night and she was too tired to care. Lilah curled up and fell into a much need sleep.

[kyogre-blue]

Second chapter of CF down. Bye, Claude <3

I powered through yet another month of boring monastery stuff with the single thought of seeing Claude again (and killing him <3). If nothing else, this route is much more amusing than SS because I can see characters I care about doing stuff... as the enemy... but they're there!

Which really just highlights again how much of a missed opportunity Academy phase really is. They have all your future enemy units in the same place with you and then do basically nothing to make you care about them. It's all left onto replay or presuming they have off-screen relationships.

Aside from that, Edelgard's narrative about the Relics, human superiority and anti-dragon people is... hm. Well, it sure is a thing! Given how blatantly misconstrued some of the stuff she's saying gets (eg, about the Relics), the writers had to have been intentionally writing her as being utterly misguided, and I get that you're buying into her coolaid in the CF route. But the fact that you can't ever confront her about it in other routes despite all the "if only we could have understood each other :(" is just so.... sigh. It's unsatisfying to put it mildly.

Live blogging:

Hubert and Ferdie B: Hubert goes against Edelgard's explicit orders for something.

Felix says he's killed tons of people for the empire in the last five years and has the same look in his eyes now as Dimitri. lol

Dimitri with both eyes <3

Hubert's pre-Bridge conversation is hilarious. We need to cooperate with the Agarthans (presented as Arundel's subordinates) because we need to topple the Church! This is a very painful decision for Edelgard because you see they used her father as a puppet and killed her siblings :( Why are we more opposed to the church than these assholes? Well, because, I guess.

Bridge mission - nothing interesting. We do fight Judith, who has a unique model but is never playable. She's holding the bridge because Acheron is useless. He shows up as a horse guy (I'm pretty sure he was a mage in another route?) and then ditches after only one turn.

Afterwards, everyone makes fun of Edelgard for doing a bad job running the war until now because she's been too into Byleth. I've heard this angle before, but I think the actual difference is kind of mixed. They made less progress in the Kingdom, but that was all on Cornelia anyway, so it comes down more to Rhea not getting captured, presumably because she didn't have Byleth weighing her down. And the Alliance situation was never a real invasion in the five year gap to begin with. SS did have Lorenz siding with the Empire, but the exact in and out is kinda... hard to track.

Anyway, now we're in the Claude killing month!

Talk about how Claude has been acting as intermediary between those that oppose the Empire and those who support it, keeping them from fighting each other. Since everyone is compromising to keep the Alliance united for now, no one has openly sided with the Empire either.

But now he's scheming something, as we know because people have been stopped from entering or leaving Derdriu.

Everyone else: Claude is a smart, tough opponent. Bernie: Who's Claude

Ladislava is tasked with managing the supply lines and keeping the Goneril territories under control.

Being betrayed by Byleth made Rhea crack. "She started laughing as if she was possessed and spouting complete gibberish..."

Edelgard: Why can't people admit defeat without fighting back first? If they're going to surrender after I crush them under my boot, why not surrender without fighting? (Logically collolary: If you choose to fight, die fighting and never surrender. Explains why she's Like That in Azure Moon: sunk cost fallacy)

Edie is "not disinterested" in romance lol

Caspar family drama: His older brother is lazy, greedy and skates by relying on his position as heir. Their grandfather was really obsessed with his second wife, Randolph's mom. And she really wanted Randolph to become the heir, but the grandfather had to step down "earlier than expected," so Caspar's dad took over the title. With all this, Caspar's brother is really worried about the possibility of I guess Randolph taking over as heir instead.

This has.... interesting implications, I guess.

First, this makes Randolph Caspar's uncle, lmao

Second, I really, really wonder if Randolph was the grandpa's biological child. His mom explicitly married in after he was already born, but she could just as easily have been the grandpa's mistress. Either way, we get a very funny inheritance situation because Randolph does not have a crest, we can see that in his battle stats. So either crest ownership just doesn't matter in this case (lol Edie), or even wilder, you can just pass on your title to a completely unrelated child. Even if they ARE related, that's likely unprovable without a crest. (lol Edie extra hard)

Third, I wonder what the exact timeline here is? Because if Caspar's dad took over recently enough, he might not have been the lord who took part in the Insurrection. That might explain why he's inexplicably so chill about helping Edie take the throne and gain a whole ton of military power.

Edie, of course, turns this around as "this is the price of taking your own desires into account when choosing an heir" and this is why "the concept of nobility is decaying" but isn't Edie opposed to nobility in the first place? And she doesn't plan to institute a democracy anyway, so isn't everyone just going to be choosing their heirs based on "their own desires"?

She goes on to say that she wants a world where the best rise to the top and succeed, "regardless of bloodline," but uuuuuh this entire situation is about how the grandpa did not follow bloodline properly...? And all this also means that Caspar's bro can absolutely be removed from his position as heir, regardless of his bloodline...?

Caspar is like "ok, so you're saying nothing would change for me in your world, right?" L M A O

The way Edie presents the history of the Relics is so... "Relics were created by the hands of mankind" imo I wouldn't really count the Agarthans as particularly human anymore, and also this wasn't exactly something triumphant. "Seiros manipulated the people of the world and defeated the all-powerful King Nemesis" Nemesis was indeed tough, but you don't need to lick his boots quite that much. "Should the one leading the people of the world by someone with humanity or a creature that can merely masquerade as a human at will?" Given that you turn into an inhuman monster when you feel like it, which side of this binary do you fall on, Edie? I personally feel that Flayn, Seteth and Rhea have plenty of humanity even if they aren't human...

"The Immaculate One and her family"... dang, this phrasing is really...

This knowledge is passed down from emperor to emperor, huh. I know this kind of thing! Naruto taught me all about it! I remember that Uchiha tablet full of bullshit!

Byleth has been compared to Nemesis now. Hm.

Claude scene <3 He's upset about Judith dying, and that many more people will die following his orders. But of course he also talks himself up "do you have any idea how much of the Alliance adores me and believes in in me?" How much? Hm... about half? I remember SS and Lorenz leading the other half.

Anyway, Nader is also here.

Linhardt stupid take: "It's as if Crests were designed to be used only in times of war." How can you use them in peace-time? My dude...

There are three gates that connect Derdriu proper to its naval port. It looks like the naval port is a reinforced, walled area where the ships must dock before any goods or people can move into the city itself.

Killed Lysithea with Caspar, but I still get the prompt to spare her. I don't like these, it's too easy!

lol Claude keeps being upset that people are too stubborn to retreat even though he tells them to. My man, this is what happens when the Alliance adores you, it's called ride or die for a reason

The Almyran King fighting on the front lines... as expected.

Nader has been a soldier for 30-odd years. Incidentally, he retreats rather than outright being killed like Judith and Hilda... and Claude. It seems he has no dialogue for if Claude is killed first. Too bad!