#did i go overboard w the blue?

[shawsimmer]

[coolemmasulivan2]

The Woman Next Door

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After winning the Dutch Grand Prix, Lando returns home to Monaco, eager to prove his genuine feelings to his neighbor, especially after their bet.

Word Count: 4181

You're my downfall, you're my muse My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues I can't stop singing It's ringing in my head for you

Lando had been your neighbour for nearly two years, a friendly presence in the building. But with you, his charm seemed to intensify. He flirted casually, his eyes sparkling with a playful passion. "You're my type!" He'd always say. Yet, your heart remained unmoved. The women he brought home were a strong contrast to you: tall figures in designer heels, showing their immense beauty. You, however, were a simple person who preferred simplicity over expensive clothing and felt most comfortable in jeans and sneakers.

Lately, his flirtations had intensified. He always ensured you knew he was single and was waiting for you. His promises of making you happy and treating you right were sweet, but you weren't fooled. Deep down, you couldn't deny a flicker of attraction, but you kept it hidden. Lando was a handsome man, but you'd seen enough to know he was more than just a pretty face.

"How was your family?" Emily asked, turning to you as she drove. She'd picked you up from the airport in Nice.

You smiled. "They're fine! It was great to be back home. I missed them."

"You know who else missed you?" Emily teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Who?" You asked, confused.

"Your hot neighbour! I ran into him yesterday at the supermarket and he asked about you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did he?"

"Yeah! He said, 'How's Y/n? I haven't seen her for a while. The building seems quite boring without her.'"

You crossed your arms. "He didn't say that!"

"I'm serious! I told him you were coming back today, so maybe he'll be waiting by your door, ready to confess his feelings. And then... BANG! Happily ever after."

You couldn't help but wince at Emily's over-the-top dramatic gestures. Despite her tendency to go overboard, you couldn't help but love her for it.

"You've been watching too many films."

"You're going to end up together. Mark my words." She replied and you made a gagging sound that made her laugh.

As she dropped you off at your apartment building, you grabbed your luggage and thanked her with a tight hug. You entered the building and pressed the lift button.

As the liftdoors opened, you stepped inside, dragging your luggage behind you. You were admiring your reflection in the mirror when a hand stopped the doors, causing them to reopen.

You turned to see Lando, dressed in a McLaren white vintage t-shirt and black jeans. His curls were perfectly coiffed, and a smirk played on his lips. Like always.

"Look who's back!" Lando's voice filled the cramped lift. "Good to see you."

"Hi, Lando." You replied.

The two of you lived on the top floor, making the lift feel even smaller and slower. "How were the holidays?"

"Fine! Too short." You admitted, the tension palpable. "What about you?"

Lando studied you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your face. "They were good. Family, friends, good weather. But I'm glad to be back to work." The lift seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. "And happy to see you again."

"Here we go!"

Lando chuckled. "What?"

"You know what! You know that flirting with me isn't going to work. I'm not interested."

"But I am!" He said. You quickly looked away, praying for the elevator doors to open. "I'm very much interested."

"To how many girls have you said that?" You asked, your voice laced with scepticism.

"None, believe it or not." Lando replied, his tone sincere.

As the lift doors opened, you stepped out and fumbled for your keys. Lando leaned against the wall beside you. "What can I do to convince you to go on a date with me?"

You took a deep breath, finally finding your keys. He was starting to make you nervous. "I don't think your fans would like to see you having dinner with a woman."

"That's not a problem for me." He said confidently. "I'll have dinner with whoever I want." As you unlocked your apartment door, he continued, "But if that's the issue, we can have dinner at my place, eat McDonald's in my car, anything to make you comfortable."

You pushed your luggage inside and faced him. "Lando…" You began, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not looking for a one-night stand. I want a relationship. A public relationship. I want to go out with my partner, have dinner, eat ice cream, have meaningful conversations on the balcony. I want trust, and I don't want to worry about being cheated on. I want kids and I don't want to wait until my thirties. Marriage isn't essential, but I want this person to be my last. If you want me to go on a date with you, prove to me that you're that person." Lando listened intently, his expression serious. "Bye, Lando!"

You started to close the door, but Lando's hand quickly stopped it.

"Uh, when was the last time you saw me bring a woman home?"

You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure. "What?"

"I haven't brought anyone home since I told you I liked you. Four months ago! I never told you I was looking for a one-night stand. I've always been open about my past relationships and I've never cheated on anyone. I also want to have a family and I'll convince you to change your mind about marriage." You stared at him, speechless. "But if I have to prove myself, I'm up for the challenge!" He said, winking as stepped away. "Bye, Y/n."

You closed and locked your door, your heart pounding in your chest. Your cheeks were flushed. For the first time, he had left you speechless. You'd always dismissed his flirting as a joke, but now you realized that maybe it was more than that.

Later that night, you invited your friends Maria and Lisa over for dinner and a movie night. You didn't want to be alone with Lando next door, and you needed to talk about it.

"He's so into you!" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's the classic boy-next-door story."

You set the popcorn and wine on the coffee table. Maria, already a bit tipsy from dinner, was making the most confident comments you'd ever heard from her.

"Just go on a date with him. He's handsome, rich, and lives next door. What more do you want?"

"I want stability, honesty, and someone who makes me happy and laughs with me." You replied.

"He already does that!" Maria insisted. "He was honest with you, you laugh with him, and I'm sure he'd make you happy, if you know what I mean." She chuckled, and Lisa joined in.

"You're drunk!" You teased.

"I am, but I'm still the wiser one." She retorted. "Why don't you just sleep with him? See how that makes you feel."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You know I'm not like that. When I'm with someone, it's because I like them."

"But you do like him." Lisa argued.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Lando was engrossed in a game with Max when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, surprised by the late hour. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was unusual for someone to just walk into the building and ring his bell.

"Someone's at the door." He told Max, removing his headphones. The doorbell rang again. "Give me a second."

He was taken aback to see your friend, Maria, standing there. Her cheeks flushed and the scent of alcohol was strong.

"Lando, hi!" She slurred.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. One of your other friends was watching from your apartment door.

"Hi, Maria! What can I do for you?" Lando asked, his tone polite but curious.

"Quick!" Lisa whispered to Maria.

"Look, I'm going to the point. Y/n wants to go on a date with you, but she's afraid you only want to get in her pants." Maria blurted out.

Lando crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Is that so? Does she know you're doing this?"

You were nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't believe you'd ask your friends to do something like that.

"Of course not! But we're her friends and we know she really likes you. She doesn't show it, but she does." Maria insisted.

You dried your hands and glanced in the mirror, adjusting your hair before opening the bathroom door.

To your surprise, the girls were gone from the living room, but you heard giggles coming from the door. As you approached, you realized what was happening.

"So, about the date…" You pushed past Lisa, finding Maria deep in conversation with Lando.

You quickly stepped out and grabbed Maria's hand. "What are you doing?" You were panicking.

"I'm helping you!" She whispered, but everyone could still hear her.

"You're not. Come on!" You started walking her back to your apartment, but Lando stopped you by gently grabbing Maria's wrist.

"You can't take her now. She was about to tell me what I need to do to convince you to go on a date with me." He said, smirking. You resisted the urge to slap the smirk off his face.

"She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's talking about." You argued.

"She clearly does." Lando insisted.

Maria nodded in agreement. "Yes, I do. Lando, you just have to win."

You and Lando looked at her, each holding one of her wrists.

"What?" You asked.

"She'll go on a date with you if you win the next race." Maria announced.

Lando smirked and looked at you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker. "We have a deal!"

"No, we don't!" You said, but no one seemed to be listening.

Maria extended her hand for Lando to shake. "Deal! You better win, because I won't be able to help you again." She winked and went inside your apartment.

You looked at Lando, your arms crossed. "That's not going to happen, you know that right?"

"Why? Are you afraid I'll win?" He challenged.

"No!" You replied.

"So, let's do it. If I win, you go on a date with me--"

"And if you lose, you'll stop asking me to go on a date with me!" You added. Lando stood still, considering. "What? Are you afraid you'll lose?"

After a moment, Lando extended his hand. "Fine!" You grabbed his hand and shook it.

The weekend arrived sooner than you'd expected. Lando had qualified P1, making you question your decision to agree to the bet. You were a Mercedes fan, but deep down, were you rooting for McLaren? It was great to see him win again, but was this really the best time to root for him?

You sat on Emily's sofa between Lisa and her dog, Zeus, watching the race. You wore your Mercedes cap, while Lisa and Maria sported their Ferrari t-shirt. Neither of your friends was a McLaren fan, but today they couldn't stop shouting the name of the British driver.

"Oh my god, he's going to win!" Lisa exclaimed.

"Don't jinx it." Emily replied, slapping her arm.

You slumped on the sofa, unable to say anything. Only when the race ended did you let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding. He had won the Dutch Grand Prix. He had actually won.

Your friends jumped in the air, celebrating his victory. You ran your hands through your hair.

"Guess who's going on a date with a hot British driver!" Lisa mocked, pulling you up from the sofa.

"You are!" Emily repeated, jumping around you.

An hour later, you were walking home alone. The Monaco weather was pleasant, and the streets were bustling with people.

As you arrived at the building, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Lando.

Lando: Hope you're free tomorrow night! I can't wait for our date.

Fuck, you mumbled to yourself.

On Monday, you left the apartment earlier than usual. The night before, Lando had knocked on your door, hoping to talk to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. The next day, you woke up an hour earlier and left for work, hoping to avoid him on your way out. But the universe had other plans.

As you were leaving the building, you bumped into Lando, who had been out for a run.

He chuckled. "Leaving earlier to ignore me?"

You cleared your throat. "No, I just have a big project going on… and have to go earlier."

"Okay." He said, clearly not believing you. "So, I hope you're excited for tonight."

"I don't-- I don't think I have time tonight." You stammered.

"Well, I already reserved our table, and I don't think you'd back out of a bet. So, I'll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something orange if you have it." He whispered in your ear before walking away.

You'd been thinking about Lando all day, your mind racing with anticipation and nerves.

Upon returning home, you immediately took a long shower and emptied your closet to find the perfect outfit. A nice orange summer dress caught your eye. You couldn't remember the last time you'd worn it, but you recalled how flattering it was with your tan.

When you put it on, it looked even better than you remembered. However, doubts crept into your mind. What if he just wanted to get in your pants? What if this was all a joke to him?

Lando knocked on your door at 7 pm sharp, and a few seconds later, you opened it. Lando struggled to contain his astonishment at your appearance.

You were wearing a cute red dress and heels. Your long hair was wavy and you looked stunning. You always looked amazing, but tonight there was a special glow about you. It was a shame you weren't wearing orange.

"Wow!" He said, taking in your appearance. "You look... beautiful."

You blushed and looked away, trying to hide it. "Thank you." You whispered.

You closed your apartment door, and Lando called for the lift. The ride to the garage was silent, surprising you that Lando hadn't said anything flirty or teased you.

He guided you towards his Lamborghini Urus, and you muttered a silent thank-you that he chose the Urus. Of all his cars, it was the most "normal" on the streets of Monaco.

As you left the garage, you broke the silence. "Where are we going?" You asked over the soft music of the radio.

Lando glanced at you. He looked good in his black pants and white shirt. You loved a man in a white shirt.

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises!" You said.

Lando laughed. "You hate surprises or you hate my surprises?"

You looked away. "Look at the road, Lando."

After a minute or two, Lando spoke again. "You look really beautiful."

Once again, you blushed. Thankfully, it was starting to get dark. "You already said that."

He stopped at a red light, gazing intensely at you. "And if you allow me, I would say that to you every single day." For a moment, his intense gaze made your legs feel like jelly.

The tension was broken only by a car honking behind you. Lando raised his hand in apology and pulled away. Three minutes later, he pulled up at the marina.

"I agreed to a date with you, not to run off." He said, getting out of the car.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and Lando opened your door. He gently placed his hand on your back, barely touching it, and guided you towards a large yacht named Aurora.

"It's from a friend of mine." Lando said as he pulled you towards the yacht deck. "He named it after his baby daughter. He let me borrow it for a few hours." Your mouth gaped open in surprise at the sight of the table for two, beautifully set with roses and candles. "I thought you'd be more comfortable alone." He explained. "Without the prying eyes of strangers or paparazzi."

Once again, he'd left you speechless. The candlelight, the city view, the soft music, and the sound of the water hitting the yacht created breathtaking scenery.

"I didn't picture you as the romantic type." You said.

Lando put his hands in his pockets and looked at you. "I can be romantic… when I have to." You didn't respond, just stared at him. He had two buttons undone, revealing the tan of his chest and the necklace he wore. "Let's sit?" He suggested and you nodded.

He pulled out your chair, demonstrating his gentlemanly side. He sat down opposite you, and a moment later, a man in a black suit approached with a bottle of wine.

The man poured the wine for the two of you. You could tell it was a very expensive wine just by looking at the bottle.

"Cheers!" Lando said, raising his glass. You clinked your glass with his and took a sip. It was delicious. "Do you like it?"

You nodded. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Lando chuckled. "Far from it. I want you to stay sober and experience firsthand how great of a date I can create for you."

"You're really taking this seriously!"

"When I like someone, I always take things seriously." He said, his face turning serious. "I fight for what I want. And it's no lie that I want you."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide your emotions. Before you could respond, the food arrived. It was a pepperoni pizza for you and a prosciutto one for Lando.

"How-- how did you know--?"

Lando smiled. "You order a lot of pizzas. Like… a lot. So one day, I stopped the delivery guy and asked him what you had ordered. He said you always ordered the same one."

You tried to suppress a laugh at his silliness. "Not creepy at all." You said sarcastically.

Lando laughed. "I know, I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you."

You kept on talking and eating, and you both laughed a lot. You had to admit that you had never felt so comfortable with someone before. After you finished eating, Lando and you walked to the car.

"I'll take you home." he said. He turned on the car but paused. "Unless you don't want to go home yet." For a moment, he seemed shy, which was unlike him, at least around you.

You thought for a moment. "I don't know..." It surprised you that you were considering spending more time with him than necessary. "I'm not going home with you if that's what you're thinking."

Lando laughed. "Well, I guess I'll have to call you an Uber if you're not going home with me. Like, to the same building." You blushed and let out a sigh. He loved teasing you. "Do you trust me?"

You gave him a side look. "No!"

"Wow, that was brutal. Let me rephrase the question: Can I take you somewhere, please?"

You hesitated, but eventually nodded your head.

Lando drove to the top of the hill, a spot he liked to visit when everything felt overwhelming. The view was breathtaking. Monaco looked beautiful during the day, but it was at night when the city truly took your breath away. He parked the car, and you both stepped out.

"This is beautiful." You said, looking at the view.

"It is. But it's not as beautiful as you," Lando replied. You blushed and looked away. You'd never blushed so much in your life.

You sat down on the bench and Lando joined you. "What do you really want from me?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

"I'm not stupid, Lando. You're an F1 driver. You're young and handsome. You could have anyone you wanted."

"But I want you!" He smiled. "You're smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And you're different from the women I've dated in the past. You're genuine. Like I've already told you, I like you. A lot."

You looked at him, your heart filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I don't know, Lando."

He squeezed your hand gently. "I understand that I'm not the easiest guy to be in a relationship with, but I'm willing to take things slowly. I just want you to know how I feel." The two of you sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. "Do you want to go back?" Lando asked after a while.

You nodded. "I think it's time."

As you drove back down the hill, you couldn't shake the feeling that something special was happening between you and Lando. You were excited, but also a little nervous.

When you arrived at your apartment building, Lando parked the car in the garage, but neither of you made a move to step out. "Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it." You said.

He smiled. "I'm glad you agreed."

"Well, I had no choice, remember?"

"Yeah. Remember me to thank Maria for the bet." He laughed, and you joined him.

"Yeah, yeah." After a while, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet kiss, and Lando closed his eyes as he felt your lips against his face.

As you pulled away, Lando hesitated, but after a second, he cupped your face and gently kissed you on the lips. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, quickly kissing him back and tangling your hand in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours. His touch was gentle, and you felt a warmth spread through you.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless. You looked at each other, your eyes filled with love and desire. "I've been wanting to do that, for a very long time." He said.

You looked into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "To how many girls have you said that?" You teased him.

He looked at your lips. "None. And if you let me, you're going to be the only one." He said and he couldn't help but smile.

You smiled back. You couldn't help but think that your life had just taken a turn for the better. And so did Lando. Finally, he got the girl. The woman next door.

[noradegrantz]

Match Made In Heaven

college student! Anakin x fem! reader

warnings: sexual content, implied smut, fingering, established relationship, public sex

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

this small fanfic is inspired by Lana Del Rey’s unreleased song “Match made in heaven”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s my first time writing a fanfic so please excuse any typos etc <\3

⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆｡✩

After finishing with your homework, you arrived back at Anakin’s place. He’s everything you could have asked for. Curly dark hair, blue dreamy eyes, that masculine big figure and on top of that, his overprotection. Everything you could have asked for. Everything you always wanted. All the girls in college were jealous of you two and that’s a fact. At school you always tried to maintain a good behavior around everyone, you tried to act nice and not really touchy with Anakin. Which usually led you to getting pounded by your boyfriend inside the janitor’s room…

It was one of those days today. One of those which started off by you waking up tired and still sleepy. It’s not your fault though. Anakin was the one who came at your window around 1am just to see you, which led into making out and getting pretty handsy with you till 4am…

You woke up so sore today. Just wanted to sleep again. However, you move those thoughts aside and started getting dressed for the day. You met up with him before class to have a chat about this. He noticed that you seemed tired, so he was the one who suggested it. He went to the cafeteria and grabbed two coffees. He sat down on a nearby bench away from prying eyes, as you sat on his lap and played with your hair, looking down while his hand was resting on your waist. With a worried look, he touched your thigh and said

“Love, you seem really tired. Are you all right?”

he then smirked and playfully said

“I didn’t go overboard last night, did I??”

You instantly started blushing, and you lightly slapped his chest. Then you muttered

“A-Ani…stop teasing me…”

You pout and cross your arms while looking away. He smiled playfully and moved his hand under your skirt. Then he started caressing your thigh. He then playfully said again.

“What? Ain’t it true babe?” he smirked.

“Come on… don’t act like you weren’t asking for more every five minutes doll…”

He moved his hand closer to your panties. He moved them aside and started rubbing circles around your clit. You hissed in pleasure.

“You’re soaking wet darlin..”

he said as he slowly pushed two fingers inside.

“Ani…” you moaned quietly.

“Not here…please..w-we are in public..”

you said, trying to softly push his hand away.

“Shhh…now doll. Don’t worry. There’s nobody here except you and me. Calm down babe..”

He said, moving faster.

Shortly after you came in his fingers, he smiled playfully as you were staring at him, while breathing heavily. Your chest was moving up and down as you were in your college uniform. He fixed your panties and waited a while so you could regain your senses after your orgasm.

“How are you feeling y/n? I didn’t go overboard this time, right?”

He said, this time with a soft, but worried look.

“I’m okay Ani, it’s alright”

you said, forming a smile. You waited a bit, so you could find your composure again before heading to class. The day went smoothly.After you finished school, you crashed back at his place. His parents weren’t home so you both knew what that means…

You two were truly, a match made in heaven <3

here’s the song as well,

in case you wanna listen to it ! ✧˖°.

[beepboopkek]

— Hidden Surprises (F!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, like one sentence of n1pple play, cl1t smacks (only a few), slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.8k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table. “You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.” 

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.” 

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part. 

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my wife seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed. 

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

“ … It's beautiful.”

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“I knew you would like it.” Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

“But, why—”

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror. “I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.” That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a— Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.” A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it. “Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this. Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide. “The rules are simple,”

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly. “One, do not look away from the mirror.” Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued, “— and two, do not close your eyes.” Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you. You smirked. “… Ruin me, Commissioner.” You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room. He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your clit. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known. A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers made contact with your clit, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and— A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock. Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.” You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to toying with your clit, drawing sticky sweet circles as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror. You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again. “Enjoy the show, dear.” Ayato slid his now wet middle and ring finger down, dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spots with experienced precision.

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?” 

He ground his palm into your clit as he pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingling with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear, 

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of the paddle to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you. 

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-” 

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to play with your clit as you sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nerves.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your clit again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses. “ … Hi.” You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “Hello.” You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs. Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.” 

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”

[davidlcki]

Could you write a smutty fic for Bruce Wayne, where he saves his crush, brings her back to the manor where he insists she never leaves bc it's safer for her there & even convinces her to quit her job, with offers to provide for her!

Provider, protector, needy soft Dom Battinson... please 🖤

stab wounds

unfortunately, i don’t write smut! i thought this was a cute idea, so i wrote it without, i really hope that’s ok <3 for insight this is when bruce is not as experienced with being the batman. lowkey went a little overboard w this but i hope y’all enjoy! bruce is so needy in this lolololol

pairing: pattinson! bruce wayne/ f!reader

warnings: cursing, movie typical violence, lmk if i missed anything

words: 4,389

bruce had seen you on the streets many times before. it started the day he spotted you nearly getting mugged on your walk home from work. you were screaming for someone, anyone to help as the mugger ripped your belongings out of your hands and shoved you to the ground. when bruce stepped in, handing your purse back, it was hard to ignore his feelings. it seemed the instant the two of you touched hands and locked eyes, he was in love. from then on, making sure you were safe almost became a habit. he learned your work schedule quickly and although you never saw him, he was almost always there. upon the rooftops or around the corner, he couldn’t leave a pretty girl like you unattended on your late night walks home through gotham.

~

the second time the two of you met was a few months later. you were avoiding a catcaller who stumbled out of the bar to follow you around. bruce couldn’t hear what he was saying because he was too far off, but he could tell you were annoyed. there was a clear look of disgust as you shoved the man away from you and picked up your walking pace, but the man wasn’t letting up. the second his hand grabbed your wrist, bruce was there to knock him out. your eyes gleamed with fear and wonder as you looked up at him. bruce didn’t scurry away into the dark like last time he encountered you. he felt frozen in place as he stared down at you. when you realized he still hadn’t ran off, you spoke.

“so we meet again?” a small awkward smile graces your lips as you glance down at the unconscious man and back to him.

“i guess so” bruce watches as you eyes grow impossibly larger at the sound of his voice. never in a million years did you think you’d be standing in front of the batman, for a second time. let alone conversing with him.

“thank you, sir, for saving me. again. i feel a lot safer with you around” your voice was small as you spoke to him, but you weren’t afraid as most of the people of gotham were. there was something about him, something in his eyes that told you you could trust this man with your life. you thought you saw a glimpse of a smile, but you couldn’t be sure. the batman turned, about to make his way into the shadows, but he stopped, and looked back towards you.

“i would invest in some pepper spray. or a knife.” and with that, he was gone.

~

you took his advice, and from then on you didn’t go anywhere without either. luckily, you haven’t had to use them, yet. it’s been many months. maybe half a year. as the presence of the batman grew, the crime was steadily going down. you’ve never felt safer in gotham before, you’ve only had to deal with the occasional cat call. for bruce, he was seeing you many times a week as he secretly watched over you, but you still hadn’t seen him since that night. you found yourself almost wanting to come across a criminal, for someone to try to snatch your bag from your hands, because you wanted to see him again. you wanted him to come down to save the day so you could look into his eyes and hear his voice again. you didn’t want to admit that you missed him, even if you’ve only had 2 sparing moments together. you needed to see him again, or you were afraid you’d forget what he sounded like, and the little details on his suit, and the icy blue color his eyes were.

~

more months pass. it had been over a year now. when you thought of the batman, you hardly thought of the batman you met that night anymore. it had been so long, he was almost merely a tv character to you. he was whatever the news said he was. on some nights, you found yourself longing to meet him again. you’d sit up late, scanning the rooftops and alleyways, but you told yourself he wasn’t who you thought he was. you didn’t know him, or his intentions. he was a vigilante. that’s at least what the news made him out to be. it was getting harder and harder to see him as the man you encountered on those cold nights.

~

it was a january night, and the wind was blowing fiercely against your red cheeks as you made your walk back to your apartment. you made a mental note to ask your boss again to give you less night shifts. you knew it wouldn’t do any good though, nobody wanted the closing shift. the cold that was biting through you was urging you to take the shortcut back to your home. you looked wearily down the dark alleyway as you considered your options. it was really cold… and the city is safe now, right? you make your way into the ally.

halfway through your trudge had you regretting your decision. you felt like you were being watched. closer than you usually did. what you didn’t know, is that you were. bruce had spent a ridiculous amount of time mulling over if he should speak to you again. he tried to forget you, he really did. he told himself you were only a random civilian he had encountered twice, just like everyone else. but you weren’t like everyone else. he couldn’t get you out of his head no matter how hard he tried. tonight, on impulse he decided now was the time. quickly he scaled the wall down to the ground on the other side of the alley. his breaths were shaky as he waited for you to get closer. he seemed to misjudge the distance you were at, because when he stepped into view, you nearly ran into him. you didn’t think, all you knew was you screamed, and your pocket knife was in the side of who you thought was a burglar. the string of curses that left the ‘burglars’ mouth, alerted you to who it really was. you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“fuck” you watched as the batman gingerly held his side, your knife was still sticking out of him.

“holy shit! i am so sorry! i… should i call an ambulance? please don’t die!” you held your hands out in horror as you stared wide eyed at him.

“no… no ambulance.” you swore you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“follow me, i- i have stuff to stitch you up at home” you stuttered through your words and quickly led him to your apartment which was only a few minute walk now. bruce followed, his mind bouncing between the pain in his abdomen and the fact that he was being lead to your apartment. he felt like a teenager with a crush. your apartment was small, a one bedroom, but it was adorned with your personality. posters and plants hung from the walls and ceilings, and there were books strewn about and filling the various shelves. bruce took a second to look around as you frantically grabbed things you’d need.

“okay, umm… sit here.” he sat down on the kitchen chair and watched as you thought through how you’d go about this. neither of you had dealt with something like this. whenever bruce was hurt, which was usually minor, he had alfred to stitch him up, but he couldn’t pass up this opportunity with you.

“i’m sorry about your suit” you say in advance, before grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting through it. bruce made a mental note to use much stronger fabric for his next suit. once his torso was exposed, you grabbed hold of the knife. you splay your other hand out on his stomach as if to brace for the pull, and bruce had to force himself to focus on the pain instead of your touch.

“okay…. one…… two…..” you pull the knife out in a swift movement. bruce stifles a whimper, blood was now gushing from the wound.

“at least you know it works” bruce attempts a joke and points at your pocket knife. his voice was strained and you were to focused to let out more than a snort. you press down on the wound with a cloth and wait for the bleeding to slow.

“i hope i’m doing this right… i mean you, you’ve been stabbed before i’m sure right? you know what to do?” you look at him desperately for advice, the guilt was prominent on your features. this is not how you wanted to meet. the thing was, bruce had only been stabbed once, in the arm. he had gotten used to bruises and cuts and fractured bones, but never a stab wound like this.

“no…. this is a first for me” another smile crosses his features as he attempts to lighten the mood. you couldn’t help but smile back. how often to you see the batman smile?

“glad i could do the honors”

once the bleeding was slowed, you cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol, earning a hiss of pain from the man. after everything was sterilized, you began to stitch him up to the best of your ability.

“is this… good?” you question yourself wearily as you observe the stitching you had learned 5 minutes ago on a youtube video.

“it’s great. thank you. and sorry for scaring you.”

“no, i’m sorry for stabbing you. what were you doing there anyways?” you think back to him stepping out in front of you so suddenly.

“just a coincidence” he responds quickly and looks down at his hands.

“seems we have a habit of running into each other, huh?” you smile, and he smiles back before standing up and heading for the door.

“where are you going? you don’t have to go so soon”

“i have to get back. i’m sorry” bruce already had your door halfway open. in reality, he couldn’t bear being around you like this. he realized how deeply he was beginning to fall in love with you by every second he spent with you. he was afraid. he’s never experienced something like this.

“when will i see you again?”

the batman didn’t respond as he closed the door behind him and disappeared into the night.

~

you thought that was the last you’d see of him. why was he standing at the end of the alleyway? was he there to see you? who was he? questions ran through your head like clockwork, but one thought stayed consistent.

you blew it.

he was obviously not happy about you stabbing him, and that’s why he left in such a hurry. that’s why you haven’t seen him again. six months later, you decided you needed to get out of gotham. stories of the batman filled your head every day, weather on tv or in the papers or from your work buddies, you couldn’t escape him.

on your final night in your apartment before you were to move back to your home town, there was a knock on your window. you nearly jumped out of your skin as you checked the time. 3AM. cautiously, you turned, although you had a feeling you knew who it was. you locked eyes with him as he stood outside your window on the fire escape, rain pattered and trickled down his suit that was seriously updated since last time you’d seen him. your pocket knife would break on it before his suit did. you slid out of bed and opened the window almost eagerly. you were filled with excitement, and frustration.

“what are you doing here? i thought you didn’t want to see me anymore. since i stabbed you… and all….” you stepped aside so he could hop into your apartment. rainwater dripped off his suit and began to create a puddle on the floor. the batman didn’t seem to hear you as he looked around your once decorated apartment, that was now strewn about with boxes. you seemed to read his thoughts as his brows furrowed with confusion.

“i’m moving out of the city. it’s… it’s too much for me.” his head snapped towards you as you said these words, and you saw a type of desperation in his icy eyes that you’d not seen before. you were taken back. finally, he spoke.

“move in with me.”

“what?”

“you can move in with me.”

“i-i couldn’t…”

“you’d be safe. you wouldn’t have to work 6 days a week anymore. you wouldn’t have to worry.” you wondered how he knew how many days you worked.

“i don’t even know who you are, or where you live. i don’t know, i’d only be in the way. i have plans to move back to my home town.”

“you do. you know who i am.”

your brows furrowed, and with that, the batman lifted his helmet. it felt like you were cemented in place. you could only stare at his face and wonder, how hadn’t i noticed this before?

for a while, no one spoke. the two of you stood, observing each other, taking in your features. bruce felt naked, standing before you like this. soaking wet, black eyeshadow surrounding his eyes. it felt like the two of you were meeting for the first time. really seeing each other for who you really were. you were in your night clothes, shorts that were too short for you to wear in public and a t-shirt that was too big. the cold wind that now blew from your open window ran a shiver down your spine.

“please” bruce’s voice was smaller than he expected. desperate. “move in with me” this felt like a life or death moment for him. he felt like if it wasn’t you, it wouldn’t be anybody. he of course wouldn’t force you to move in with him. he would let you walk away, never to meet again. he would let you punch him in the face. he would let you stab him over and over again. if that’s what you wanted. he realized that he’d die for you. despite his doubt, he felt it. he felt the electricity between you both, and he knew you did too.

something changed when he took his helmet off before you. you realized the connection, you realized he wanted this just as bad as you did. you realized it wasn’t just you. wordlessly, you nodded.

~

wayne manor was incredibly large. larger than tv made it out to be. alfred greeted you with a friendly smile, and upon touring the place around, you realized theywere the only two actually living in it.

“any room you want, it’s yours”

you felt like a little kid as you went inside the bedrooms that were larger than your entire apartment. eventually, you decided on a room at the other end of the ridiculously long hall from bruce’s. he leaned against the door frame and watched as you ran a hand along the beautiful furniture and took in the view from your window.

“hey, i haven’t gotten your name” bruce suddenly realized. his cheeks were painted red at the sound of your laugh. you still couldn’t process what was going on. you found it funny that you only just now were getting the chance to tell him your name.

“oh right, that might be useful. i’m Y/N”

“Y/N” the way your name rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine. “it’s beautiful”

you look down to hide your smile as you utter a thank you, busying yourself with opening your suitcase and beginning to unpack.

~

you settled into wayne manor much easier than expected. it took a little while, but you and bruce got on well. one night while bruce was out and you were helping alfred tidy the kitchen, he gave you his insight.

“never in my entire life have i seen bruce be so sweet on someone. never. you’re special to him, Y/N.”

~

more months flew by in what seemed like the blink of an eye. bruce was completely enamored with you. on one night in particular, bruce came home injured. he threw you a pained smile as he stumbled through the door holding his side.

“jesus!” you stand up and place your hands on his shoulders, giving him a once over. “what happened?”

“just- just a gang of kids. im okay, alfred’s got it” he waves off your concern and pulls his helmet off hastily.

“looks like more than just a gang of kids to me. let me get it, let alfred rest.” you look him in the eyes, and he couldn’t say no. he tried to avoid you when he was injured like this, he never wanted you to worry.

once in the bathroom, he watched with dull amusement as you rushed around the bathroom. you’d think he’d have his own little hospital in here with the amount he gets hurt. bruce was pulling his armor off carefully.

“just like old times, huh?” you smile wearily as you inspect his wounds. he had another stab wound just above the scar where you had stabbed him that night. you lift up his discarded armor and inspect the ripped hole in it.

“hm. gaps in the armor”

“what?” he looks at you with confusion.

“no wonder this wound is so bad. gaps in the armor!” you stick your finger through the hole in his suit and bruce rolls his eyes with feigned annoyance.

“you gonna let me bleed out or what?” he takes his bloody gloved hand and wipes it on your shirt, leaving a bloody handprint.

“oh! come on! i like this shirt!” bruce was giving you a playful smile, and you had to suppress yours as you kneel down to stitch him up.

“i’ll buy you a new one”

once you stitched the wound on his side, you took a rag and carefully wiped the makeup and blood from his face. he closed his eyes and let you do so. you found him leaning into your touch as you pushed his hair back and tilted his head towards you. once his face was clean and you assessed he didn’t have any head damage, you broke the comfortable silence.

“could you hop in the shower? i cant tell what blood is yours and what isn’t. and you smell like sweat.” you poke at his shoulder, and bruce reluctantly agrees.

“alfred dosent make me shower” he pouts, turning the faucet. water spurts from it and quickly fills the room with steam.

“well, i’m not alfred” you cross your arms sternly and begin to head towards the door. “i’ll be outside when you’re done to double check those wounds.”

“wait” bruce’s voice stops you in your tracks “could you stay? it’s nice. having someone to talk to, i mean.” his voice was quiet and it reminded you of the night he asked you to live with him.

you sat on the toilet seat and make casual conversation as he washed the sweat and grime off of his body.

when bruce was turned away from you, you would observe his back. the way scars full of bad memories adorned it and the way his muscles flexed as he moved. you had to force yourself to train your gaze on the ground until he was done and wrapped in a towel. you checked him for any more injuries, and upon finding nothing more than bruises decided your work here was done.

“okay, you seem alright. just that stab wound and a few bruises. i think you should really fix those gaps in your armor.” you elbow him teasingly and he flicks your forhead in response.

once he was dressed, he met you in the kitchen. “hey,” his voice alerted you of his presence, you finish your glass of juice and turn fully towards him “wanna help design my suits?” by the look on your face, bruce could tell you were shocked.

“i need someone else’s input. what about the gaps in the armor, you know?”

the two of you didn’t sleep that night. instead, you spent your time drawing out suit ideas on a large piece of paper. you realized very quickly how much you enjoyed doing so, and bruce realized how good you were at it.

“see, this way you still have full mobility, but these areas are completely armored.” you point at the paper with your pencil and bruce nods along in awe. how had he not thought of these ideas before?

you were on your stomachs, elbow touching as you observed the new suit plans. bruce turns his head towards you.

“you’re really smart, you know that?”

his sincerity caught your attention and you turned to meet his gaze as well. your face flushed at the closeness and you found it hard to keep eye contact.

“not as smart as you” you knock your shoulder into his and smile. you could tell bruce was thinking about something. he looked at you for a long while, before pulling his head back towards the papers. you tried your best to ignore the tension as you drew onto the paper.

alfred found the two of you sprawled out on the floor in the batcave the next day, fast asleep on top of your blueprints.

“perfect for each other” alfred smiles to himself, and leaves the two of you to your slumber. for a while, you both spend your nights this way, in the batcave, passing out on the floor after hours of talking about suit designs or random topics that came to mind. slowly but surely, you were finding it harder and harder to fall asleep on your own.

one night, you were half asleep, but the sound of mumbling encouraged you to sit up and blink the grogginess away. you recognized it as bruce’s voice echoing down the long hallway, and he sounded afraid. your feet hit the cold floor and you slowly tiptoed your way into the hallway and over to his door. you pressed your ear against it, and realized he was dreaming, mumbling incoherently. slowly, you push the door open and peer inside. whimpers we’re escaping his lips as he tossed and turned in the bed.

“bruce?” you whispered his name, but he didn’t wake. you stepped to the side of his bed and poked his shoulder lightly. you’d never heard bruce talk in his sleep before. he still didn’t wake.

“no…. no please” you couldn’t barely make it out as the words escaped his lips, his brows were furrowed and you swear you saw the gleam of a tear on his cheek. finally, you placed your hand on his shoulder and shook until he woke up. he came to with a gasp, sitting up sharply and sliding away from you. he looked like a scared animal, scanning the room frantically and taking heavy breaths.

“bruce it’s okay! it’s me, it’s Y/N. you’re safe” you hold your hands up in defense, afraid that if you touched him he would jump back again. finally, he snapped out of it. he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his black hair.

“fuck” was the only thing he said as he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest unconsciously.

“nightmare?” bruce nods in response and watches as you sit across from him on the ridiculously large bed. you match his position and rest your chin on your knees, peering over at him. when the moonlight hit his face, you saw the tears welling up in his eyes. the expression he had was something you’d never seen before on him. you realized he was being completely vulnerable with you. you didn’t say anything, instead deciding to take his large hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. a tear escapes his eye, you move to sit besides him and lean in to wipe it from his cheek before it can make it any further. bruce was looking deeply into you. he seemed far away in thought. you look back and decide not to lean away just yet.

“Y/N…” his voice was raspy and he maneuvered his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. you didn’t say anything else. instead, you closed the gap and pressed your lips against his. you couldn’t wait any longer. there wasn’t any hesitation. he was on you in a second, his lips and movements were desperate, and you were shocked to discover someone like him did not have much kissing experience.

in retrospect, this should have happened a while ago. tension was built over months and months of tiptoeing around one another. this deep want, deep need, came out in an explosion. your hands were in his hair and he had a death grip on your hips. he was afraid if he let go, you would disappear. you almost didn’t notice the way he pushed you down on the bed and crawled on top of you because of how entranced you were in the kiss. he pushes you down into the bed with a roughness you weren’t expecting. he interlocks his other hand with yours as well, and he holds them besides your head as he continued his attack on your lips. then you noticed, he was saying something. whispering it against your lips.

“please…. i… i need you. don’t leave me, please” his voice was shaking as he removed his hands from yours, now cradling your face. he was holding you like you would die tomorrow. “i don’t have anyone else.” you felt the sensation of one of his tears dropping onto your cheek. your brows furrow as you place your hands on top of his. your lips were brushing together ever so slightly as you spoke.

“bruce. never in a million years would i dream of leaving you. i love you.” he presses his forehead against yours and breathes deeply with seemingly relief. bruce slides down your body until he can rest his head on your chest. his large arms wrap around your frame and you almost don’t hear him when he says it.

“i love you too, Y/N.”

[skz-films]

➳ GIF REMAKE CHALLENGE

remake someone’s else colouring, sharpening, slowing, and resizing. do your best to get close to the original and share how you did. make a new gif to challenge those you tag to recreate. share the source video if possible! try not to tell those you tagged anything to help them; see what they can figure out and how close they get on their own! if you’re tagged in several, you can do one or all, whatever you like! if they have a giffing tutorial, shared actions, etc., you can use that to aid your recreation!

i was tagged by @sugarushride, @chanrizard, @minzbins & @babycatlix to do this challenge <3 and this honest to god broke my brain sjdjkfdskhghksghj however, i had so much fun figuring out how to get close to your individual coloring and sharpening techniques. so here are the results!

i rlly like how em fixed jisung's skin tone in her gif considering the original lighting was so pale and blue; sa's red was more vibrant than mine and i think i went a lil overboard w it hhhh; i had spent the looongest time w mel's gif bc mine kept going over 10 mb so i had no choice but to ultimately cut some frames for it sjdfdjgjkfkjfdsh i'm sorry </3; i love all the reds and yellows in kitty's gif but clearly my speed adjustments didn't work lmao

this is getting longer so my challenge for you, will be the 230608 s-class stage w hyunjin as the ending fairy <3 bc i also fought for my life coloring that stage so i would love to see how other content creators would recreate this gif of mine and agree that it is indeed the worst stage lighting for s-class.

here's the video. the timestamp is from 3:38-3:41, all frames :')

i'm tagging @lee-minhoe, @woodziecup, @shorelinnes, @minchanz, @get-lit, @shuaberriez, @superbowls, @snug-gyu, @yang-innie, @jinniebit, @blueprintchan & @yangjeongin to do the same, but only if you're up for it! <3

[n0n-sen-se]

No x reader, I hope its okay! 😅🙏

A SFW request where Muzan is REALLY just a timid and easily scared guy, who everyone somehow thinks is terrifying and evil.

Only the uppermoons knows what he's really like and is very protective of him because if his kind and timid personality.

Could I have short headcanons about their thoughts on this Muzan?

its completely fine w/o a reader! I just typically don't do oc's or canon x canon! so thank you for requesting anyway!

also btw your request is so cute + wholesome !!

𝐔𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐝 𝐌𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐧!

includes ;; muzan, kokushibo, doma, akaza, hantengu, gyokko, gyutaro, daki content ;; fluff, humor, protectiveness a/n ;; short hcs, short hcs, please remind me not to go overboard + hindsight: you may have found a loophole bc this is kinda. . . x muzan to me. . . the vibe is there

☆☆☆ # kokushibo !

initially saw muzan as an unfit leader, but took his offer of becoming a demon anyway

when he found out the truth about muzan's personality, he was. . . speechless?

it was very confusing + conflicting for him: to both hate him for being weak then turning to admire him whole-heartedly for his kindness.

like literally falling to his knees when muzan promises him and the other upper ranks (basically) the world-- just to help him find the blue spider lily

does anything for this man, with no ounce of hesitation

sees muzan as someone to protect

doesn't show it much but cares for muzan with his whole being

☆☆☆ # doma !

at first his whole brain does the ' . . . ? ' thing

finds muzan absolutely adorable, and always comments on it

he likes to bother / embarrass muzan (like getting him flustered + teasing him for his kindness)

the other upper ranks will hit him for doing it. . . so he'll keep doing it regardless

but goodness if he doesn't treat muzan like a little brother!

the need to protect him is kind of like protecting a family member, and the thought alone means a ton to doma (even if he refuses to say so)

☆☆☆ # akaza !

was initially disgusted witnessing such kindness. he (like kokushibo) mistook it for weakness

but. . . muzan's unrestricted love + understanding for him hits something deep in his heart

its a feeling he really needs; muzan is the kindness he needs to have near him

so, although he tries to stay a certain distant from muzan (akaza's hesitant to trust anyone) he always checks in on how he's doing and makes sure he has what he wants

and like all the other upper ranks, he will kill for this man- whatever muzan requests of him

but, (unlike most of the upper ranks) he will go out of his way to achieve his/muzan's goal to impossible extents (ig he show's his appreciation through his actions)

☆☆☆ # hantengu !

thinks muzan is just like him: innocent, virtuous, pure

definitely tries to protect him, and tries to be physically close to him as a form of. . . clinginess? admiration? (muzan appreciates him)

the clones are the ones who do all the protection tbh

has an underlying jealousy over ranks (he wants to be more like muzan) + immediately regrets the thought of 'hating' him for being 'above' him

whenever all of hantengu's clones appear they always manage to talk about muzan

some of the clones, like sekido, urami and zohakuten will not tolerate an ounce of disrespect:

❛how dare you say his name❜

☆☆☆ # gyokko !

like the way he treats cruel muzan, he is obsessive towards this man. even in kindness

never thought anything initially when he learned the truth, i mean, of course he was a little wary because muzan was the demon lord

but when he puzzled out the truth he was. . . just took a moment before it sets in (he's still the happiest with muzan)

thinks he's adorable beyond comprehension, and always mutters it to himself whenever the thought pops into his head (probably some form of love aggression)

always seeks muzan's approval, especially on his artwork

☆☆☆ # gyutaro & daki !

probably the most appreciative of the bunch is gyutaro and daki

though his personality did make the two uncomfortable at first (how can someone with so much power and authority over literal demons be so-- ?)

i don't think it would really affect how they protect him like they do now, except this time the two of them have a really good reason to fight for him

muzan's kindness towards the two make gyutaro blush out of embarrassment (he's not too used to praise or anything of the like, so it makes him a little uncomfortable)

on the other hand, daki is all over that. she loves this side of muzan (probably to his dismay). she likes to be on his good side. . . and be next to his side whenever she has the opportunity.

quick side notes ;; hope you like it + sorry i took so long to post this ! ♡

[cerenemuxse]

TGR but There's a Roleswap - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - The Foreign Scottish Engine

All in Vain (Season 20 Episode 16)

Word Count: 930

The story can be found at @tgr-2x5-roleswap-au for easier access.

~

Once James arrived at Brendam Docks, he headed straight for his assigned goods trains to get it over with and go back to pulling passenger trains. "A splendid engine like me shouldn't be doing this sort of work!" he muttered with fury. Just as he was about to say something else, a ship's horn blasted near the docks as the ship came to the loading area, specifically the engine loading area.

Nobody had used that area in years so when the platform dropped to connect the ship to the docks, everyone stopped and stared, including James, Salty, Porter, and Cranky.

Once the ship and platform were safely connected, engines stormed off the boat, quickly filling Brendam Docks and startling the beings there. The engine, a Scottish tender engine, in the front rushed ahead with excitement. "Och, dear! V-Very busy today! The dockyard, I mean!" he exclaimed inattentively.

The dock manager looked up from his clipboard when he noticed the engines pass by. "Hey, stop! Hold it!" he hollered but they couldn't hear him so he blew his whistle. Thankfully, they all stopped, including the Scottish engine.

Ignoring the immediate groaning of questions from the engines behind the second engine, the dock manager asked loudly, "Where are you all going?"

"To the Great Railway Show, of course!" replied the second engine, a Belgium streamlined tender engine.

"The Great Railway Show is on the Mainland in England! This is the Island of Sodor!"

"The Island o’-?" The Belgium engine's face dropped. "Oh." With a blast of his whistle, he hollered, "Alright, back on the ship!"

Despite the complaining from some of the other engines, everyone reversed back onto the ship. As they did so, the Scottish engine yelled, "H-Hold oan! I'm comin’!" following everyone else. "W-Wait!"

James followed the crowd to the boat. "The Great Railway Show? Are you all really-?"

"Get out of the way, rusty iron!" hollered a large blue Canadian tender engine.

James fumed, huffing heavy clouds of steam. "I'm not the one going backward," he muttered. As the engines boarded the ship, he exclaimed, "Why don't you take me with you all?" He switched lines. "It looks like there's room for one more!" exclaimed James as he braked suddenly at the engine boarding dock.

"Is there somebody missin'?" piped up a small green tank engine with a thick Italian accent. Her expression quickly shifted as she noticed Salty and Porter calling out for an engine rushing towards James.

The large American tender engine only chuckled darkly.

Just as James' expression shifted, the Scottish engine bumped into him from behind with a loud CLANK! James was shoved forwards, making his pony truck dangle from the edge and for him to dip forward, as the other engine gasped in surprise.

"Nonono! Help!" he screamed as he panicked. "I'm going to go overboard!"

"James!" exclaimed Salty and Porter. They rushed forward to the engine-loading docks with many of the dock workers.

James helplessly reversed, dipping back and forth on the edge of the docks.

The workmen quickly grabbed a chain, attached it to the back of the Scottish engine, and connected it to James' tender buffer beam.

"Start pulling!" exclaimed one of the workers.

The Scottish engine struggled as his wheels squealed against the iron rails. Slowly but surely, he managed to pull the bright red medium-sized tender engine back on the rails. Once James was settled down and the workmen began to unchain the engines, cheers roared around the area for the Scottish engine.

"What a rescue!" exclaimed Porter.

Everyone was glad the engine had saved James and that nothing worse had happened.

But James wasn't.

"What is it with all you railway show engines? Charging about like you own the rails!" he fumed as he backed down and switched onto Porter's line. "What makes you so special anyway? Do you think you're better than the rest of us just because-!" He froze once his eyes met the stranger.

The Scottish engine was a tender engine with four leaders and four drivers, painted Indian Red with a lighter red and black used for his lining. His eyes were a warm brass, and he was about the same size as James. "S-Sorry, I’m v-very sorry!” he exclaimed, looking downwards and avoiding eye contact. “No’ ma intention tae bump ye. I-I should've lookit." he said. "I-I didnae ken ye there!"

James didn't answer. He glared at the foreigner, feeling insulted that the engine didn’t even bother looking at him. Great, just what I needed! he thought with a huff and a frown that slowly grew. Another red engine.

Noticing the rising tension, Salty broke the silence. "Uh, thank you for rescuing me. My name is James," he said, glancing at James to the Scottish engine. "What's yours?"

"Salty!" James scolded sharply.

But Salty laughed, and the Scottish engine joined, chuckling.

"Don't be silly, James. That can't be their name. That's my name!"

The foreigner's laughter subsided. "Edward. Ma name’s Edward," he chimed with a warm smile.

"Well, I can't stay here all day!" he huffed as he backed straight into Porter.

"James, watch out!" exclaimed the viridian saddle tank engine. It was too late as James bumped him back by accident.

Edward gasped as quietly as he could.

James was flustered. In a desperate attempt to cover his mess up, James huffed back at the other red tender engine. Red. He fumed at the thought. "I have work to do!"

"Hm?" Edward's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes followed the other red tender engine leaving the docks without his goods train.

~

Disclaimer: they don't fall in love in this story. We do not believe in the "Love at First Sight" trope here. It'll happen later.

For the new readers: If you've noticed that Edward's dialogue is a little weird, that's on purpose. You'll see why as the rest of the chapters are posted. It's important to his character.

OG description: Throwback to when I rewrote the Thomas and Ashima scenes with James and Edward instead in almost one sitting. I went back and cleaned it up once I decided to actually post it. Definitely more self-indulgent lmao

Each scene will have its own chapter so it'll give me the chance to slowly go through and polish them one at a time. :D

A few characters will be swapped out so that it makes more sense (by following EoSR).

[catiecat1320]

Beginnings

Gift for @son1c, one of my favorite Tumblr people! This story is set in their 10verse.

………………

Sails was having a terrible day.

He was crouched behind one of the many crates on deck, attempting to hide from the twin foxes that always seemed to get a kick out of bullying him. Today, Clash and Smash were particularly peeved and Sails just knew they would take it out on him. He had successfully avoided them all day, but now, things were going downhill.

Golden yellow ears pricked up at the sound of thumping footsteps. Sails curled up and held his breath, hugging his twin tails tightly. 

“Where be that freak?” One of the twins growled. “I know yer here!” 

A sudden woosh sounds out, followed by a crash as the crate is tossed aside, leaving Sails exposed. Oh, no, no, no. Clash yells in triumph and Smash runs over. “Found ye!”

Sails lets out a squeak as the twins yank on both his tails, hard. “S-stop… please, I’m sorry… What did I do bad?”

“Bad? Ye be born, that be what!” Clash said as he pushed the little fox to the ground. “Ya little freak.”

Smash goes to get something before coming back, a malicious gleam in his eye. “Say, why don’t we solve yer problem fer ya?” He reveals the length of rope in his hand, as well as an iron weight. Clash cackled as Sails stared in horror, realizing just what the two had planned.

“W-wait. Please! I’m sorry! W-we can talk about this!” But Sails’ cries went unheard as the twins restrained him and tied him firmly.

“Ye ain’t gettin’ out of this one. Freak.” Clash taunted as his twin scooped Sails up and carried him over to the stern. Despite his best efforts to wriggle out of Smash’s grasp, Sails was still very stuck. 

Dangling over the edge of the water, the ocean had never looked so daunting. Sails could already feel the cold, unforgiving water surrounding him. Drowning him. “No. No! Please! Have mercy! Ah!”

Clash and Smash wore identical smirks as they tossed him overboard. “Buh-bye!” They shout in unison.

In the split second Sails was airborne, he spotted a speck in the sky. It seemed to be getting closer; diving downward, fast.

Then the ocean swallowed him whole.

………………

Diving into the ocean was not on Gale’s to do list for today. Then again, life is unpredictable when you’re literally the stuff of legends.

He’d been exploring for a while now and just on his way home (a half submerged metal tube thing he discovered one day and claimed as his own) when he heard commotion from a ship down below. He descended to check it out… only to find two dickheads throwing a fox kit overboard. 

Fury surged within him, and the wind picked up in response to his emotions. He wanted to toss them into the ocean tied up to see how they liked it. But that would have to wait.

Without another thought, Gale tucked in his wings, propelling himself toward the ocean and inevitably giving the ship’s crew a shock. He made a mental note to come back and give them a piece of his mind. 

He hit the water with a fwoosh, the cold slapping him in the face. Ugh. Had he mentioned how much he hated the ocean? Now, where was that fox kit?…

There. Gale could make out a squirming yellow figure sinking into the depths. He awkwardly paddled toward them, hoping to catch up before they sank too far for him to reach.

(Yes, he lived in a world of water. Yes, he couldn’t swim. Shut up.)

………………

Sails tried to keep calm to conserve his air, but that was kind of hard to do when you’re about to die. He struggled uselessly against his bonds, hoping to free himself. His lungs burned with the effort. Was there any chance that he’d make it? 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sails spots something— someone— coming closer. The fox stills, his own sky blue eyes locking onto glowing emerald in a silent plea for help.

.

Gale gestures for the bound fox kit to hold still as he reaches into his quills for one of the treasures he’d found earlier: an ornate knife. He had been drawn to the intricate patterns carved into it, but now he thanked fate for giving him this tool. Unsheathing it, he worked at the rope, cursing the dullness of the blade. 

.

The second Sails was free, he twisted his twin tails like a propeller and shot to the surface, gasping for air. That was close. Too close.

He turns around to thank whoever it was for saving him… only to realize that they hadn’t resurfaced. Panic fills the fox once more, and he fills his lungs with air before diving back down to check on them.

.

The little fox was now okay; however, Gale was not. He had not accounted for his inability to swim when he impulsively took a plunge to save the kit. His now waterlogged wings didn’t do him any favors while he was trying to reach the surface. It seemed that the more he paddled, the more he sank. Shit.

Then, a stream of bubbles attracted his attention. The little fox was back, swimming down to Gale with outstretched hands. Heh, the tables have turned. 

Flashing a grateful smile he wasn’t sure could be seen, he took the kit’s hands and let himself be pulled to the surface.

………………

Gale took in a lungful of air, gasping. He flailed for a second before stretching his wings out to keep afloat. Once he was sure that he wasn’t in danger of sinking, he turned to the kit. “You alright?” He asked while fishing his hat out of the water.

The fox nodded. “Thanks for savin’ me,” he murmurs. He studied Gale closely. “I’m Sails. ‘n you are…?”

“Gale! You may have heard of me. It’s nice to meet you,”  Gale replied.

Sails’ blue eyes widened in shock. “Gale? The Gale? Yer a legend! Capt’n tells us ‘bout you. You help people ‘n sink ‘em too!”

“Hmph. I only sink ships when necessary. Some people require drastic measures.” Gale explains, secretly satisfied with being recognized. “C’mon now, let’s find somewhere dry. I can’t fly with wet wings like this.”

“I gotchu!” Sails happily announced. The fox shifts, exposing his tail— or tails, in this case— before twirling them really fast. Within seconds, Sails is airborne, to Gale’s pleasant surprise. He hangs on tightly to the kit as they lift up out of the water completely and head towards a nearby islet.

“Why, aren’t you full of surprises? You can fly with your tails?”

Sails winces at the word tails, clearly uncomfortable talking about it. Gale has a sneaking suspicion that his extra appendage had played a hand in him getting thrown overboard. Rage pools in his gut, but he quickly tamps it down, opting to give the fox his support instead.

“Hey. Whatever they said to you, ignore it, okay? They’re a bunch of morons for not appreciating you.” Gale says as they land on the sandy beach. Sails looks at him with uncertainty, and Gale once again feels anger towards whoever did this to the little fox. “Look, Sails. I think you’re awesome.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” Gale responds, scooting closer and ruffling yellow bangs affectionately. “You’re brave, you’re capable, you’re probably a smartie pants too, and as a bonus, you can fly! And I’ve only known you for, like, 10 minutes; you probably can do better stuff! If that’s not awesome, I don’t know what awesome is.”

At this, Sails cracks a smile. “No one’s ever told me I’m awesome before.”

“Well, I’ll be here to tell you all the time, little buddy.” Gale replies, throwing a wing around the fox. Sails looks up at him curiously before leaning closer and wrapping his arms around Gale.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Gale murmured, gently petting Sails as the day’s events caught up to the kit and lulled him to sleep. Looking down at the peaceful expression that graced his face, Gale vowed then and there that he wouldn’t ever let anyone harm Sails ever again.

As for the ones that have already hurt him… Gale would have to make them pay. 

The sun was rapidly setting, coloring the sky a fiery orange that matched the spark that had flared within him. Gale scoops the sleeping fox up, stretches his wings and takes off toward home, carrying what would turn out to be his greatest treasure in his arms.

[hannahwashington]

Ok here is an official Ice Age ranking

Rankings + Explanations under the cut, starting from best going to worst. As always, this is all my own opinion, and you are free to disagree.

1. Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs

This is heavily biased but also I think Ice Age 3 has the perfect balance between completely wacky and actual heartfelt moments in an Ice Age movie. It didn't go totally overboard, and Buck is a wonderful addition to the series. Who can forget the story about how he lost his eye? Simon Pegg absolutely chewed this role up, and he really makes the movie what it is.

Ellie isn't sidelined because she's pregnant, she's allowed to be badass, and Manny learns some important lessons about not always being the protector. One thing that sticks with me is that Manny misses the moment Peaches is born (only Diego is there). I know that can be, like, a huge thing for some people, but even so, he sees his kid and feels nothing but love and relief. He doesn't feel emasculated by having his best friend there instead of him or resentment for missing that moment or some other petty bullshit. It didn't matter to him, what mattered was that his family was safe. That fucking gets me, y'know? I think that's the perfect encapsulation of what he had to learn - like I said, that he can't always be the protector, but also that he can rely on others when the going gets tough and he can't be there or can't do anything. It's important to show that, I think. D'you get me? You get me.

As much as Scratte's existence is, like, a meme, her and Scrat's sideplot was great, too. The tango? The fucking tango? Hello? I love the tango. The tango is great. And so is the "Alone Again" sequence, it leaves me in stitches. Having the acorn be like an actual character was a great choice in this case.

Finally, it's very visually distinct to the other movies thanks to its new setting, and it actually goes out of its way to give us really cool shots sometimes (see Buck's story). It really sets itself apart from the other movies. Also, how can you beat fucking dinosaurs!? Living under the ice!? Still the coolest shit. AND, the cover of Walk the Dinosaur is STILL the best credits song in the series.

2. Ice Age 2: The Meltdown

This one is simply a treat. It's an amazing follow-up to the first movie - it's got higher stakes, more energy, and more funny moments, and rounds out the herd with Ellie and the possums. Queen Latifah does her job voicing Ellie perfectly, and she's a GREAT character. Beyond that, it absolutely nails the emotional moments, too. Goodnight Sweet Possums is just... it's such a great scene, scored wonderfully. Hell, this is probably the most iconic Ice Age movie. Food Glorious Food? Sid's Sing-A-Long? Hell yeah. And... God, that scene at the end, with all the mammoths? Chills. Chills every time. Even so, I feel like it doesn't quite hit that line of greatness 3 did. I'm blaming Crash and Eddie. I don't really like Crash and Eddie. Also, this a total aside, but the ending sequence with Scrat in heaven haunts me to this day. It's the worst I feel for him. Anyway.

3. Ice Age

I could never hate this movie. It's unique in the series for being the most serious of them all. And, it gave Blue Sky its big break (RIP, hope Disney dies now and forever). Really, its biggest crime is that it's just boring in comparison to the sequels. There are gags and hijinks and the whole dodo sequence, but everyone is way more serious. The plot is way more serious. I mean, the saber-tooth tigers wanted to kill the baby! That's fucked up! And it's different to the monsters in 2 and the dinos in 3 because they were thinking, plotting, all of that jazz. Also, it gives very solid foundations for all of the characters, which I think helps make the next couple of sequels so strong. Overall, not that much to say! It's Ice Age 1. The opening travel music is a total bop, and, of course, everyone knows Send Me On My Way. It's just a solid movie.

4. Ice Age 5: Collision Course

I went into this one expecting it to be absolute dogshit, given it's the last numbered sequel in the series. But it's... actually pretty good? My biggest gripe is that the feathered dinosaur side plot didn't really add anything substantial and could've been done away with. Like 3, it really embraced how ridiculous the plot was and did it pretty well, imo. Buck is back! Peaches' fiancée is GREAT, and bringing back everything to focus heavily on the actual herd and its dynamics was a very smart move. The pop culture references date the movie, though. Also there is a Jessie J sloth. Who is also a GILF. Scrat's plot turns into straight up hody horror at some moments. The song at the end of the movie is pretty good, though. Anyway, sure, it's obviously not the best movie ever, and it's totally ridiculous, but I'm glad I gave it shot.

5. Ice Age 4: Continental Drift

I just... ugh. I'm gonna be honest, when I was younger I watched this one over and over, and I don't know if I made myself sick of it, or if I wisened up when I got older, but this just... sucks. Separating the herd was a horrible choice. The plot on the mainland with Ellie and Peaches is TERRIBLE, which sucks because you go in excited to meet Peaches properly. Sidelining Ellie to begin with was a horrible idea, since we KNOW she's a badass, and having her in on the pirate plot could've ruled. Also, jumping from baby Peaches in 3 to teenage Peaches in 4 was a bad move. I think an adventure with a younger Peaches could've worked better. Generally, separating the mammoth family was really not a good idea.

Well, I can give this movie one thing. It gave us Diego and Sid kissing. And they LIKED IT.

Speaking of mammoths! Every single mammoth celebrity voice actor seemed to be chosen exclusively for the song at the end of the movie. Which would've been fine if the song didn't suck with all of them included, it's like a cacophany of chaos. The version with just Keke Palmer is so much better. That's just me though. Also Josh Gad was a fucking rat and I hated his incel ass, so glad he wasn't in 5. AND, the plotline involving the other mammoths sucked sucked sucked sucked SUUUUCKED. I don't know how exactly we'd do a plotline about Peaches wanting to fit in (then realising she and her wacky family is fine just the way it is), but this was NOT it. This would have been a better story to do after a movie has been made with a younger Peaches, after we become very familiar with her dynamic with everyone in the herd, especially Manny and Ellie. Generally having a movie like that between 3 and 4 would have prevented a lot of the issues - such as separating the mammoth family.

Overall, the pirate plotline should have been the main focus, especially because that way we could have gotten more Peter Dinklage. The pirates were sorely underutilised, which is such a shame, because they were a very interesting addition to the story.

If you'e gotten this far, thanks for reading my ramblings on this series!

[astralibrary]

another year another silan portrait babey.... a few days late this time but we still ballin'

i've been very into manga cover design lately (studying them, making my own, etc) so it only felt right to incorporate that into this year's portrait, right? and go way overboard designing the entire front, back and spine including a blurb and barcodes and retail/publishing info, right?? and then go all in on making a matching japanese version with its own alternative blurb and barcode area bc u can't have one without the other, right?? obviously!!!!

like i said i've been really into manga design-

thoughts & details belooow

funnily enough this ended up being an actual portrait again after i did away with them in favor of illustrations in recent years, but ig it's fitting since this is the 10th one, right? (more on that later i wrote this out of order-) a callback to the first one all those years ago... the other reason it's a portrait is bc art has been fighting back lately and a full illustration probably would have been a lot; most importantly tho i just thought this composition would make for a cool dramatic manga cover heh heh

anyway bro the impossible happened i fully rendered flowers AND completed the portrait this year hello??? this has never happened since the v first year wait i just checked it happened in 2019 too this has not happened since 2019 wowie!!!! i put my whole ass into those flowers pls observe them (except the tall purple ones don't look too closely at those. look at the pansies they're my fave ♥️)

this year we have morning glories taking center stage, surrounded by pansies, forget-me-nots, some kind of nondescript purple perennial or perhaps lavender, and some kind of pink blossom (idk that one was just a space filler). don't ask abt the random petals on his mouth & collarbone uhh theres some kind of flowering tree growing just offscreen it's possible

anyway the morning glories are significant bc they represent sythra, silan's twin sister; in my mind her colors are blue & yellow and it seemed like such a good fit, so i'm officially adding it to the Flower Lore (there is no flower lore)

there is, however, Twin Lore; silan's eyes are brown and sythra's are blue, but when they're telepathically linked their left eyes exchange color (so silan's becomes blue & vice versa). the flowers here are meant to represent that, like sythra isn't here but at the same time silan carries her with him wherever he goes... smth like that

the plot described in the blurb is like, sort of what happens but i simplified things for the sake of a neat little fake manga blurb. nobody asked me to do this yet here we are. if i were being realistic abt it this would probs be like vol 2 BUT i made it the 10th volume bc this is?? the 10th silan portrait??? i did the first one in 2014?? hello??? time is fake (my hc is that it's a slice of life club manga about flower pressing for the first 9 volumes but it pivots hard in vol 10 bc the author got so sick of drawing flowers no i am not projecting-)

now regarding the japanese version: i tried my best*

*(if u or a loved one know japanese ur not allowed to make fun of me ok orz i used 姉妹 bc theres no way for silan & sythra to know who's the older twin & idk what u would do in that situation like do u just pick one & go w it or is there another hierarchy-neutral word for sister, 姉妹 is the best i can do w my limited knowledge and even then it probably just sounds like silan is having twin girls which like good for him but even so if i sound like a dork keep it to urself ok but actually do tell me if u know bc i would like to Learn ik this is probably the least of my worries when it comes to that entire paragraph but rn we are just going to focus on the issues i know about and pretend that everything else is fine as is ok thank u for ur time & have a lovely day ur a star ⭐️)

misc fun facts aka u learn how unhinged i was abt this:

the title is May 16th bc that's just what silan's story has always been called. luckily i have that up my sleeve or i'd have had to come up w smth out of my ass like The Silan Portrait or some shit

the author and publishing company are both called astralibrary yes that's me (it has a nice ring to it as a manga publisher name don't u think). i made up the logo on the spot it's my best work. especially the one in the bottom right of the japanese bar code area where i just typed the name and put a star next to it bc that makes it look professional somehow

i stole borrowed the barcodes from existing manga i have good pics of (bc i have an entire folder in my gallery dedicated to manga covers & jpn typography, unrelated); the english one is hanako-kun vol 4, and the japanese one is after the rain vol 10. i changed all the numerical codes tho (variations on the date 5/16 repeating)

i made up the english prices but i picked ¥640 specifically bc that's the price of the natsuyuu volumes i have in my manga covers folder, my only possible point of reference,

rated teen even tho in my mind it'd be targeted more towards young adults; it doesn't have anything in it that would warrant a mature rating but it does feel strange to categorize it in this way even knowing these ratings don't necessarily dictate the target audience

i thought about messing around w the design of the japanese version more to reflect some of the design sensibilities i've observed in japanese manga, like different placement of the text on the cover or a different spine entirely (since they tend to differ a lot between jpn and eng versions)- i even thought about trying to design an obi (long strip of paper that wraps all the way around the bottom portion of the book, usually has announcements & promotional stuff on it), but that is a whole ass project for another day i think this'll do just fine for now skdjlfkdg

and there u have it, thank u for reading my yearly essay abt drawing i did! sometimes u need to go aaaaaa about smth u drew and that's ok 👌

---

edit: oh yea i forgor i should write transcriptions of the blurbs here we go

ENGLISH

Alone with his thoughts? Not necessarily...

Silan has finally discovered the source of the mysterious voice in his head- the long lost twin sister he never knew he had...?! She calls herself Sythra and she has a serious grudge against him- but they need each other in order to uncover the hidden truths about their past.

Why didn't they know about each other? How were they separated? Why can they hear each other's thoughts?

And... What else don't they know?

-

JAPANESE

双子の姉妹がいる⁉︎

サイランは頭の中の声の衝撃的な正体を知るーーどうやら双子の姉妹がいるらしい⁉︎しかも、なぜか嫌われているようで…頑張れ、サイラン！

どういうわけか、この二人は謎に満ちた過去の答えを一緒に見つけるでしょう。

なぜお互いのことを知らなかったのか？どのようにして離れ離れになったのか？なぜお互いの考えを聞くことができるのか？そして…他に知らないことは…？

待望の第10巻がついに登場！

INTENDED TRANSLATION:

I have a twin sister?!

Silan learns the shocking identity of the voice inside his head- apparently he has a twin sister?! And what's more, for some reason she seems to hate him... Hang in there, Silan!

Somehow, these two will find the answers to their mysterious past together.

Why didn't they know about each other? How did they get separated? Why can they hear each other's thoughts?And...what else do they not know...?

The long-awaited 10th volume is finally here!

[hikari-writes]

Long rant?? Confession?? Idk anymore- ahead 👇👇 :

Okay soo,,, ive studied at a religious boarding school for over 5 years and its been drilled in my mind ever since i first entered abt this thing called "ikhtilat". We were told to always "take care" of our ikhtilat. (In malay is jaga ikhtilat but idk whats the suitable translation so i just directly translated that skdwjerj) ikhtilat basically means "interactions between the opposite genders". And to "take care" of that means to not go overboard with your interactions with the oppgen and always maintain professionalism.

If youre confused abt what it means to "not go overboard", i think the easiest way to put it in terms that everyone understand is basically, dont be a pick-me girl/guy. But it goes a bit deeper than that. Unless theres a business that involves the oppgen, interacting with them for a casual chitchat (especially if youre ALONE with that oppgen) is kinda, well......not well looked upon, lets put it that way.

U cant have a physical contact w an oppgen casually if theyre not your mahram (mahram means someone you cant marry, i.e siblings and uhhh etc etc.) and youre not married (yet). So "taking care" of ikhtilat is precisely to prevent that.

So why did i bring this up? Well its to give u a clearer picture on why i feel this way whenever this happen to me.

I....dont know how to react whenever my friends told me abt their irl crush- like?? Idk the appropriate response to it? Especially to my muslim friends-- like,, should i hype them up? Should i ship them?? I have no clue- 😭😭 on one hand, i would feel bad if i direct them to a sinning path (of breaking ur ikhtilat and leading to couple,, which could lead to another big sin which is zina or s3x b4 marriage) but on the other hand, it feels like im a bad friend if i dont support them? Not that crushing is a bad thing and will all lead to that path, i mean its just a crush, but again, whether in public or in private i dont know what i should say or do whenever they geek out abt thier crushes-

I deeply respect ppl who can hype them up bc im a super bad hypeman when it comes to love since i cant understand the feeling 💀💀 (feat. me and my aromantic ass except when it comes to fictional charas)

But hey! Im genuinely happy for you if u have a crush on someone !! Whether its just a deep crush or just a "i think theyre cool" crush :D it means ur crush can bring even a lil bit of smile to ur day and thats good for u!! Im glad ur crushes can make u happy im happy if ure happy <3333 i just have trouble thinking of an appropriate, non cheesy response (bc i think if i said "im happy ur crush makes u happy" out of the blue thatd be a bit ...💀💀) to ur geeking-- BUT IM GENUINELY HAPPY FOR U OKAY !?

[beepboopkek]

— Hidden Surprises (M!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AMAB!Reader afab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, amab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, n1pple play, slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.9k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.” 

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.” 

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part. 

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my husband seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed. 

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

“ … It's beautiful.”

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“But, why—”

“I knew you would like it.”

Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror.

“I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.”

That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a—

Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.”

A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it.

“Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this.

Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide.

“The rules are simple,”

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?” 

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly.

“One, do not look away from the mirror.”

Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued,

“— and two, do not close your eyes.”

Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you.

You smirked.

“… Ruin me, Commissioner.”

You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room.

He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your cock. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known.

A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers wrapped around you, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and—

A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock.

Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.”

You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to drawing out lazy pumps, his thumb dipping into the slit of your head as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror.

You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again.

“Enjoy the show, dear.”

You watched in a daze as your husband coated his fingers with the lube, sliding his now wet middle and ring finger down, circling your entrance before dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spot with experienced precision.

He pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingled with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear, 

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out, his hand leaving the paddle in favour of stroking you as you twitched in his hold.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of your sensitive cock to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you. 

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He was impatient, haphazardly stroking on more lube on his cock as he aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-” 

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to stroke you again, your thighs shaking at the rush of overstimulation. You sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nipples.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your thigh again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses.

“ … Hi.”

You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“Hello.”

You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs.

Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.” 

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs and chest.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”

[sansxfuckyou]

wrong place (wrong time)

Summary: wherein Quackity is there when Tilìn dies and he can't do anything about it, having Phil and Missa catch him in his fall doesn't help much

Warnings: Blood, break downs, major death, canon rewrite (as in, different people are there), bad ending, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: So, QSMP, I miss Tilìn, so I wrote a fic about her dying, to cope, kind of counter intuitive now that I'm thinking about it. @h3xt0r heybro, come check this shit out. anyways! hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port.

Tilìn felt this sense of glee when Quackity got her, this belonging when he hoisted her up with shocking ease and held her tight like she'd been his daughter forever. Her brothers and sisters also got parents after watching their mother flee the nest, but they all got two.

And she only got one.

Her siblings teased her over it, Quackity always crouched down and gave her the most comforting smile he could muster before trying to cheer her up. He always managed to have her giggling at the end of one of his long pep talks. And sure, dinner felt lonely without a second parent but she didn't really think that mattered much.

"Papa?" She can feel her blood sink into the fabric of her clothing, bright blue like her hero's.

Not when he was always at her side and taking care of her. He did the job of both mother and father, he took care of her with ease. He was the best and she's sure of it! Even if Bobby and Dapper say otherwise.

"No. No. No. Baby, don't die. Tilìn, stay with me! Look at your papa, okay? Focus on me, it's gonna be okay- Bad! Bad?!" Hands press at the wound desperately to hold in the blood and he screams for the one healer he knows. The only one who sort of gets how the eggs even work medically wise, the one demon who could save her. And he didn't hear Quackity's screams.

She didn't blame him much for her first death, accidents happen, that's what she was taught. She said it was okay when she came back and Quackity sobbed on her shoulder and refused to let go for a long time. He didn't let go of her now, he held on so very closely no matter the hour because Tilìn is his daughter and he needs to protect her.

That's what a good dad does. He protects. He doesn't let harm come anywhere near his kid. And maybe he goes overboard with it, just a bit, but he can't bear to lose her again. Unlike the rest of them, he doesn't have someone to lean on if she does die. He's pretty sure he'll go out in the woods and starve to death if she dies, he'd have failed his one job. A pathetic self-exile would be a fitting punishment for letting his daughter die at age twelve.

Tilìn doesn't get how much she means to her dad, she doesn't really get that she'll be gone forever when she dies the next time. She just knows it wasn't fun, and she'll avoid not fun things like her life depends on it because she's a kid. That's what kids do, and Quackity's gonna try and let her be a kid even if he's afraid she'll die.

"Thanks for having us over, Phil," Quackity said quietly as his avian friend preened a spread of golden feathers.

"It's fine by me, the more the merrier," Phil answered with as he rearranged a whole sheaf of feathers left out of order for some reason. Quackity gives an abrupt chirp at the slight sting, "Say, when did you last preen yourself?"

No answer. Why should he respond? Phil already knows exactly what the answer is so why does he need to say it?

"Quackity," The blonde presses, running a hand along the arch of a wing.

"Before, before my daughter died," The words are brimming with shame, and he can't stop the disappointed sigh rolling through him.

"Mate… You gotta take better care of yourself," Phil said, voice soft as he moved to plucking broken feathers from Quackity's other wing.

Quackity shrugged, drawing wings higher reflexively, "No, I don't, I have to keep Tilìn safe. How would you feel if Tallulah died?"

Phil pauses, "That question is unfair."

"And unlike you, I don't have someone to console me if she does die! This single parenting shit is hard," Quackity snapped before dropping back onto the Elytrians lap and Phil refrains from saying something stupid.

"I can imagine,"

"Can I just- can you take care of Tilìn for me?"

"What?"

"Please, I know that you won't let anything so much as touch her. I need to know that she's safe, I can't do everything all at once; I just want her to not die. She's my daughter man, and I'm messing this up,"

Phil just doesn't answer, tactfully preening the inner side of Quackity's wings. Prodding feathers back into place as Quackity waited patiently for an answer he knew he wouldn't get. He rolls onto his side, curling into the avian and giving a heavy sigh as he wraps his wings around himself.

"I'm not taking care of your egg, Missa would kill me if I decided raising two kids would be a good idea," Phil said, carding through the feathers as he spoke.

Quackity gives an amused hum, "Yeah, he would."

"You can drop her off sometimes," Phil offered, "Just not, all day every day."

And then there's the sound of the door slamming open. Quackity snapped up, feathers flying about as Phil joined the estranged panic. They found Missa with Chayanne at his side and Tilìn in his arms, blood spilling down her shirt. Missa was heaving breaths, and Chayanne looked ruined, he was crying a little bit.

And then Quackity was storming over, flaring out his wings as he stole his daughter from Missa's arms and clutched her close. She was fading, she was fading fast and Quackity didn't know what to do.

"It was some assholes!" Chayanne practically screamed, "They ran as soon as it happened! I swear I'm gonna kill them!"

Missa placed a hand atop his sons head, and the angrily lashing of a leathery tail halted, "Más despacio, Chayanne."

He just huffed, he did quiet down as Quackity slowly unraveled.

He was dropping to the floor before he realized it, clutching onto the almost dead child because she was all he had. A hand, he didn't know who it belonged to, gently reached for Tilìn and he lashed out. He gripped tighter and blood gushed from the wound as his wings flared up in a weak attempt at a protective casing. There's weak coughing and he knows it's Tilìn, blood pools at the corner of her lips- she looks so much weaker than he thought she was.

"Calm down mate!"

"Let him breath, Phil!"

His hands wrap into Tilìns hair and her wings drop limp in his grasp, she's gone.

"Don't go," It's whispered, it's begging, he can't lose her. He presses a smattering of kisses to her forehead, "Wake up," He smudges aside the blood with his hand, "Please wake up, Tilìn."

Slowly, very, very slowly his wings drop down as the pulse stops entirely. He's holding onto a dead body now, this dead body isn't his daughter because his daughter isn't supposed to be a dead body. He let's go slowly and before Missa or Phil can stop Chayanne he's right beside Quackity, holding onto Tilìn and butting their heads together because she always responded to that. And when she doesn't, the finality of the matter sets in for Chayanne.

The body is set down gently on the carpeted floor, and Quackity edges way from it, so does Chayanne. Phil takes a seat beside Quackity, fanning out a wing for him to lean as he stared at the blood on his form. His daughter's blood, his amazing, young, happy daughter's blood and she lay dead not even two feet away from him.

"Where's Cucurucho?" Was all Quackity managed on a strained voice.

"Whatever you're planning, don't," Phil said sternly, watching as Chayanne clutched to Quackity's side. He pressed the top of his head against the avian despite the nubs of horns.

Missa sat down on the other side of Phil, "I didn't see them, Quackity," He stares at the wound on Tilìn, "It doesn't look like it was on purpose."

"It doesn't matter! Tilìn is dead and I have no one, Missa!" Quackity snapped, and that was the final straw before the tears started flowing. He was bawling in mere moments, body shaking as he stared, unable to say anything else aside from a few broken syllables. He leaned further into Phil and held onto the older avian who bracketed him in with a wing, keeping him secure like a weighted blanket.

Missa stayed quiet, unaware of what else he could say to try and comfort Quackity. He fell back on the classic fail safe, "We could have dinner tonight, so you don't have to worry about cooking, no?"

"I think that sounds great," Phil answered with because everyone knew Quackity wouldn't be able to do so in his current state, "Chayanne, can you and Missa go and start some soup for us?"

Chayanne nodded, a little bit more stiffly than usual. He stood up and brushed down his pants, "C'mon papá, let's go make some soup."

[kittysamzkewlz19]

‪Medusa Ex Makina‬

‪Chapter 2: By the Fanbooks‬

‪Rated: M for Mature‬

‪Warnings: Murderface being a creep‬

‪Author’s Note: I have been sitting on my hands for this one, this chapter is a bit all over the place. Trying to plant seeds and everything. I promise it’ll get better after this. -w-;;‬

A brand new dawn had finally fallen upon Makina. Yesterday was a bit awkward to say the least, with her getting lost and all. But, today was her chance to fully prove herself to her idols. But first, she had to get ready. Sluggishly, Makina rolled out of bed to her new personal bathroom. It was fancier than a 5 star hotel; complete with a whirlpool bathtub, brand new fresh guest soaps, and even a custom tissue box with her name on it. Although it was spelled wrong, Makina didn’t care, she was happy to feel important enough to have one. After taking a quick bath, she opened up the cupboard underneath the sink, and grabbed her black quilted makeup bag. Makina carefully washed her face before applying her eyeshadow and eyeliner. She hated how much time she had to spend on looking as brutal as she can be, but loved how the darkest pigments looked on her eyelids. Lipstick was the easiest thing to apply, she wouldn’t usually put it on. In fact she would usually put it on for her corpse paint. But ever since she started living with Dethklok, she wanted to keep the brutal facade going. She decided to go a shade lighter so as to not go overboard. Instead of the deep dark abyss black pigment, she opted for a burgundy shade. It wasn’t too bright but still had a splash of color. Satisfied with her painted face, Makina exited her bathroom and put on her normal everyday clothes. A pair of black knee high boots, an old black leather studded belt that seemed much too big for her, gray hot pants, her hoodie, a plain black choker, a dark tubetop, and her upside down cross earring. Posing in front of her bathroom mirror, as nervous as she was for the day ahead, she tried to give herself a little confidence boost by doing a little twirl. ‘Just you wait, world! Medusa’s gonna bite back!’ Makina thought to herself.

Fully awake, Makina had remembered what was plaguing her mind. Skwisgaar. Throughout the entire dinner last night, he was keeping to himself. Did she do something wrong? Makina quietly opened up the wardrobe that contained her prized Dethklok plushies and grabbed the Skwisgaar doll by its little nubby hand. She sat the doll on her bed and lied on her stomach while kicking her feet in the air, “Why is it easier to talk to this version of you?” Makina whined at the plush, her hands pushing her cheeks. “I mean, the real you is so… aloof! I can’t even get a good read on you. The others are so much more approachable, even Mr. Explosion of all people is more of a conversation bug than you.” Makina sits up, placing the doll in her lap and staring into its blue printed eyes. “Do you hate me, am I not brutal enough for you?” The doll gives no response, a bit of the plush’s yarn hair slightly moves in front of its face. Makina laid down on her back, lifting the plushie to the sky. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to talk to you for real since well… forever. And now the minute I want to, you clam up and ignore me.” She rolls to her side, bringing the doll close to her chest. “What if that day never comes, and you’ll just ignore me for the rest of my life? It’s only been a day, surely we could be somewhat friendly with each other… right?” Makina holds the plush close to her face, she nuzzles the doll’s forehead before sitting back up and placing it back in the wardrobe with the other dolls. ‘That’s my goal, I’ll finally get the courage to talk with Skwisgaar!’

Breakfast was yet to be served so Makina still had a bit more time to herself. Not wanting to get lost again, she opened up the map Pickles had sent her on her phone. It was much more detailed than the old fan day map, it even held secrets the average fan wouldn’t be able to see. Laboratories, an underground klokateer training facility, and even a secret meeting closet! Who knew that the world’s most famous band ever needed a meeting closet?! Using the map, Makina decided to slink out of her room to find Skwisgaar’s room. But before she could, she opened the door and was stopped by Toki standing uncomfortably close in her doorway. “Mornings Makis!” Toki chirped gleefully, “ACK!” Makina jumped backwards, falling to the ground. “Oh, sorrys, I didn’ts means to scares yous. Hows ya sleeps?”

“Oh, it was good. Geez, it would’ve killed you to knock first?”

“I was, buts yous openeds da doors before thens.” Toki reached out his hand, Makina grabbed it as he helped her stand up. She noticed the rhythm guitarist had his hair up in a high ponytail and was wearing a pair of sweatpants and black hightops.

“So do you uh, normally wake up this early?” Makina questioned, Toki nodded. “Ja, I just finished stretchings and doings somes cores workings outs, and ams goings for a jogs. I was goings to asks ifs yous wanteds to joins mes?” Makina gave the idea some thought, she remembered reading extensively in fan books that Toki’s daily workout routine could be considered something akin to hardcore military training. Surely a jog wouldn’t be too bad, after all running helps with increasing a vocalist’s lung capacity. “Sure why not, let me change clothes and I’ll be out in 5.” Makina shooed the brunette out of her room and shut the door behind him. She opened up her closet, swiftly taking off her boots, belt, and hoodie. She tossed them on her bed and grabbed an old black crop top and a pair of red trainers. Makina’s transformation into her workout gear was complete as she exited the room. ”Wowee, nice crops tops! It’s evens gots Skwisgaar’s faces ons da fronts.” Makina’s eyes widened as she looked down at her top which read “Blonde Bitches are Brutal.” with an image of Skwisgaar flipping off. “Oh umm thanks…” Makina answered bashfully. ‘Fuck.’

Makina followed Toki to the front of Mordhaus. “So, you just jog around Mordhaus?”

“Yeps, it am’st not thats hards.” Makina gulped at the idea; if Mordhaus on the inside was a palace maze, Mordhaus on the outside was as big as an American Football stadium or even bigger. “Yous readys Makis?” Toki asked, Makina hesitantly nodded. Surprisingly, Toki was in a perfect runner’s starting position and zoomed off. Makina was almost too stunned to even start. “Come ons Makis! Keeps ups!” The norseman shouted. Makina shook it off and began running after him. She decided to make a mad dash for the brunette till she was closer to him, Makina began to feel the effects of the dash and her breath began to stifle. The distance between them began to grow again, Makina huffed and puffed until there was a choking feeling in her throat. She slowed down and stopped for a second, the raven haired woman looked up, they were only about less than a yard away from the front door. ‘And he does this every fucking morning?!’ Makina began to walk slowly, picking up the pace with each step. How was she going to catch up to Toki at this rate? In a flash, Makina remembered a workout tip from one of the fan books.

“To keep in rhythm while you workout, try chanting the word Dethklok with every beat. Breaking it down into, ‘Deth’ and ‘klok’. It’ll sure help you be your most brutal self!”

Makina then began to think of the chant in her head. ‘Deth, klok, deth, klok!’ It was working, she was slowly catching up to Toki. Soon enough, Makina began chanting out loud. “Deth, klok, deth, klok!” with every step. Toki took notice of the chant and began to join in. Finally they were in the home stretch, Makina could see the front door. Excitingly, Makina picked up the pace forward and screamed the chant. “Deth, KLOOOOOK!” As soon as Makina made it to 2 inches away from the steps of Mordhaus, she tripped and fell flat on her face, eating asphalt in the process. “Ooh, that’s gots tos leaves a markings. Yous ams goods Makis?” Toki asked as he knelt down to the ground. Makina gave a slight thumbs up, she began to lift herself off the ground and as she did blood dripped from her face. Toki gestured to her that there was something around her nose, out of instinct Makina stuck out her tongue and licked the blood clean off. Toki gave a strange look to the girl, the length of her tongue was abnormally long to say the least. The brunette didn’t want to point it out, and tucked away his thoughts to the back of his mind. Makina huffed a little bit as she wiped her brow. “Fuck, you do that every morning?”

“Yeps, ands thens I goes backs to mah rooms to sleeps.” Makina tilted her head with confusion, “But what about breakfast?”

“Oh, usuallys Charles had his breakfasts ‘rounds this times, but wes usuallys haves ours laters. Yous coulds always cans asks da klokateers if you’d wants a somethings.” ‘That’s a good idea, maybe I should eat something before talking to Skwisgaar.’

XxxX

After a quick shower and changing back into her normal attire, Makina went to find the kitchen again. This time she wasn’t going to get lost, she pulled out her phone and opened up the Mordhaus directory. Following the new map, she finally ended up in the kitchen by herself. Makina looked at their phone, it was 8:30 AM. Scavenging the many shelves and cupboards, there weren’t that many options present. It was as if this was a showroom at an Ikea furniture store, if Ikea was ever in the market for wickedly brutal decor. Looking around Makina was able to find a bowl of white microwave rice, a few mozzarella cheese stick snacks, some hot dogs, small nori sheets, and some spices. ‘This’ll have to suffice.’ Makina thought as she began ripping the cheese sticks up into bite sized pieces. She placed the cheese onto the rice and microwaved it for the proper time, meanwhile she cut up the hot dogs in half and sliced them to the midsection so that they would look like small little octopuses. Placing the nori and spices into the cheese rice, she mixed it until it was ready, adding the warmed up hotdogs. Now was this the best meal, not really. Makina didn’t give a shit, after all she had eaten like this for most of her life. For her, this was comfort food. Before she could take a bite, she noticed a familiar muscular klokateer watching her eat from the doorway. “Uh… why the hell are you staring at me? It’s rude and really creepy.”

“Ah, my apologies. I just couldn’t help but notice that you’re dining alone. In the main kitchen…”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

”Because new recruits are supposed to be eating downstairs.” Makina tilted her head, the words replayed in her mind until she realized what he had meant. “Oh no, I’m not a klokateer! I’m Mr. Explosion’s protege, Medusa.”

”Protege? …OH! The kid from last night! Sorry, I’m still getting used to your face. Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?”

Makina stuffed a hotdog octopus in her mouth and leaned her arm on the table while placing her fist on her temple. She chewed on the thought; Makina could easily ask the servant for advice about how to talk to Skwisgaar, but would it even be wise to ask about it? Makina’s mind was made up as she swallowed her food, “You know, there is something. I get so nervous around Skwisgaar. He’s got an intimidating aura and I don’t know how to talk to him. Got any advice?” Makina could feel the klokateer smirk underneath his mask, “Why, are you charmed by his good looks?”

”What no! It’s not like that! I just don’t want to look stupid is all.” Makina blushed. “Hey I was just kidding, my apologies for teasing you my lady.” The klokateer giggled, “Hmm… Master Skwigelf is more like a cat to strangers. He’s friendly, but I bet he’s just not used to you being around is all. Give him time.” Makina hummed with understandment. “Thank you um… what do they call you?”

”Me? Um… well my Klokateer number is 4235.” Makina shook her head and took another spoonful of cheese rice in her mouth, “Shii, Nii, San, Go. Ha, Sparkling Coral. From here on out, you shall be known as Sango! And you are only to address me as princess. Got it?” She commented proudly. The klokateer rolled his eyes and humored her, “As you wish, princess.” Sango said with a tinge of playful sarcasm in his tone. “Good talking to you, I gotta go. Watch tower duty.” And with that the Sango left the kitchen. She quickly finished the meal she made, throwing away the plastic rice bowl.

XxxX

Makina finally made her way to Skwisgaar’s room. She took a deep breath, through the door she could faintly hear the plucking of a guitar being played. ‘This is it’ she thought to herself. Makina gingerly knocked on the door, the playing stopped as the sound of footsteps came approaching. Her heart began to beat faster and faster, her palms began to sweat a bit. Makina wanted to abort the attempt but her feet felt frozen to the ground. Then the door finally opened, it was far too late to back out now. “Whats?” Skwisgaar asked with annoyance, he was in nothing but a pair of white briefs. “I just um…” Makina looked behind the lanky man to see a group of women in his room. “Ah- nevermind, I see you’re busy at the moment.” Skwisgaar looked back on the gaggle of naked ladies on his bed, “Oh thems, don’ts worries we ams dones. Unless yous wanteds to joins? I coulds goes another rounds, or threes.” He said in a playfully flirtatious tone. Makina’s mind went wild. The proposal was alluring to say the least, she imagined being tenderly kissed in the rays of the dawn while being snuggled in his arms. Makina had dreamed of a moment like that since her college years! But that’s when she remembered a fact from the fanbooks.

“Skwisgaar’s libido and fertility rate is notoriously high. Even if you were on the pill or have a lady condom, you’d best be ready to spend thousands of dollars for your very own baby Skwis.”

Makina shivered, she couldn’t just risk her virgining music career for being another one of his baby mamas! Her mind ran in circles until, “Ams kiddings.” Skwisgaar stated bluntly. The tension in the air mellowed out just a bit to make Makina stop shaking in her boots. “Ah hahahahahaha. Oh wow, you got me there.” Makina stated stiffly. “But seriouslys, why ams you wanteds to talks?” She was silently panicking, all that effort in wanting to see him and she didn’t have anything prepared to say! What could she say, what did she want to ask him? “You ams wastings my time.”

”No wait!” Before Makina could say another word, Skwisgaar rudely slammed the door on her. Makina stood there dumbfounded, her shoulders relaxed as she sighed in disappointment. ‘Next time.’ She thought to herself. Makina began to walk back to the living room and plopped down on the couch, she checked her phone again. 9:15 AM. ’Could this morning get any worse?’

“MURDERFACE, WHY DID YOU USE MY BATHROOM?!” Pickles shouted from down the hall, “BECAUSE MINE’S BROKEN, REMEMBER?!” Replied Murderface as he was walking towards the side chair. “I TOLD YOU TO GET A GUY!”

”I FORGOT, SORRY!” Makina went to stare at her phone, not wanting to make eye contact with Murderface. She dared not to look up, as she kept scrolling through her Pin’dBlur dashboard. She had heard countless stories of girls and their fan interactions with him back on the old Gear’dUp forums. Murderface was either painfully awkward, creepy as hell, or just plain misogynistic towards women. But this was when he was by himself publicly, surly in private he wouldn’t be like that. After all, last night he behaved pretty well. Then again, maybe that was because Nathan was keeping a watchful eye on him. ”Morning Medusa, how’d you sleep?” Murderface asked, his lateral lisp slurring his ‘s’ sounds. “Tch, way better than sleeping on my old pullout sofa.” Makina replied as she tried to sound a bit more tough than how she really felt. “Well no shit, it’s not a couch! Anyway, you sound kinda pissed. Did you stub your toe or get your period?” ‘And the answer was all of the above.’ “First off, who asked you about my cycle? And second off, neither of those things happened.” Makina didn’t look up from her phone, now she was scrolling more rapidly. “Oh good, but you still sound pissed off.”

‘I’m slowly getting there with you bombarding me with these questions.’

“Look man, I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s really embarrassing and stupid.”

”Oh come on, it’s probably not that bad.” Murderface tried to reassure her, leaning forward in his seat.

Makina refused to answer, she didn’t want him knowing about her embarrassing encounter. She’d rather die a horrible death than to tell Dethklok’s bassist about her failure to interact like a normal ass person. Murderface stood up from his chair and sat next to her on the couch. “You gotta loosen up a little bit. I’m not gonna judge you for shit. I swear!” Makina sighed, she placed her phone back in her pocket and put her head in her hands, still humiliated about what happened earlier that day. Makina relented. “I couldn’t do it.”

”Couldn’t do what?”

”I… I couldn’t talk to Skwisgaar. I just… you know… want to get to know him better. But I froze like an idiot!”

”That’s it?! Oh god, don’t tell me you’re one of those fans.” Makina shook her head, she explained to him what happened in full detail. Murderface cracked a smile, roaring with laughter, and smacked her on the back. Makina hissed through her teeth, wincing at the sudden sting of pain. “Holy fuck, classic Skwisgaar. Don’t beat yourself up about it. He’s not used to girls like you not being interested in a quickie.”

”Girls like me?” Makina asked with a dry tone. ”Yeah, no offense you look like a really hot groupie. You caught him almost practically naked right?” She nodded, “Then he’s still in playboy mode. Don’t worry, just lay off him.” Makina was perplexed at how causally Murderface knew all of this, as if it was common knowledge. It made sense to Makina that not every Dethklok secret was out there for the world to see, not even the fan books could predict Murderface giving wise advice. But then again, maybe it was a fluke.

Pickles finally came out of the bathroom, “God damn it Murderface, don’t ever use my toilet ever again!” He said angrily as he plopped himself next to Makina. Murderface scooted closer to the woman placing an arm around her. “I said I was sorry!” Murderface whined. “I don’t want to ask, I don’t wanna know.” Makina winced at the thought, she pushed Murderface’s arm off of her. “Heh, yeah you really don’t.” Pickles said while crossing his arms, placing his feet on the table. The ginger took out a box of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Murderface who swiped it out of his hands. The bassist grabbed a lighter out from his vest pocket and lit the cigarette. “So, got any plans today?” Asked Pickles as he offered Makina a cigarette, she shook her head and wafted the offer away. “Not really, I’m not sure if my mentor’s got anything planned for me.” Pickles shrugged, he leaned over to Murderface for a light and huffed a bit of the nicotine, “I mean, sure, probably? You should probably talk to him.” He commented as he blew out some smoke. Makina was reminded again of what the fan books said about Nathan.

“Nathan Explosion is a mysterious quiet man, a lady-killer for sure as he’s the king of heartbreak mountain. While being the brutal face of the group, he still keeps his true feelings close to his chest.”

[sargeant-bxrnes]

all yours, always was. [austin!elvis x reader.]

summary: where you and elvis are past the friendship point by plenty of nights together and kisses shared, but not quite in the lovers stage yet. one day, you decide to push too far, and elvis snaps. turns out, that’s was what you wanted all along.

warnings: friends with benefits, possessiveness, jealousy, elvis being a condescending jerk, tbh. | SMUT: dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected & semi-rough sex. [this is nasty, and i’m not even sorry]

word count: 4.9K [went overboard w this, oops.]

my masterlist!

my requests are open!

What began as nothing but a one-night stand after a successful concert, turned into a friend with benefits situation over a few months.

Elvis couldn’t get enough of you, and he’d turned you into quite the insatiable little thing since the first time he had you.

It was all secret, though. To the public and his fans, Elvis was single and ready to give an opportunity to a lucky fan.

Safe to say, (because it always happens in situations like this one)… over time, things between Elvis and you had started to get messier and much more difficult to handle.

You had started to look away whenever Elvis got closer to the crowd to flirt with random fans, not enjoying the sight — and Elvis had begun to notice the way his fist tightened unconsciously whenever any man dared to approach you, even when he was around.

That’s when it all clicked, fans expected flattery and men flirted with you because of a simple reason… you two were a secret. No one had a clue of what happened behind closed doors.

And the worst part? Elvis and you were just friends, right? So why get mad whenever someone else attempted to make an advance? Didn’t make an ounce of sense, and you both knew it.

Elvis had been getting ready for that day’s concert when he saw you, he’d been humming a tune but immediately stopped when his eyes landed on you and the summer dress you wore, the material fitting your body in all the right places, making you look truly dashing, just as he imagined you’d look when he bought the dress for you. You were breathtaking.

On the other hand, you were distracted looking around the stage, the place was huge and you couldn’t help but feel proud of Elvis, the place had sold out entirely, not a single seat had been left available. People truly loved him and his crazy ass dance moves.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned around. It took you a couple of seconds to find him, but eventually you spotted Elvis’ face peaking next to the curtain, not wanting to be seen by anyone else but you, even if the fans weren’t there yet, he wanted to be discreet.

He smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly trailing over your body before returning his gaze to meet yours, his intentions clear behind those beautiful blue eyes of his as he bit his lip.

He liked the dress. He really liked it. But not as much as he liked the woman wearing it.

You licked your lips and sighed, he made a come hither motion with his fingers, and now that the intention had been set, you perceived the lust lacing his smile.

With half your mind on it, you began walking amongst the growing crowd towards the backstage door, his guards recognized you by now.

You only took a couple of steps before you felt someone touching your arm softly, to get your attention, though.

Turning around, you met a soft-looking man, warm brown eyes, curly hair, boyish smile. You didn’t know him, but something about his presence made you feel at ease, he seemed sweet.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he apologized, a nervous sigh escaping his lips. “I just saw that dress and… god, you’re really pretty, I had to talk to you.”

“Aw, thank you!” you said with a genuine smile, your hand falling to his arm. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

You knew what you were doing, of course you did. But it was time to test the waters, to see how far and deep you could go before Elvis snapped and either dragged you back to shore, or let you drown in your stupid actions.

Truth is, you were done with being his fuck-buddy, you wanted so much more, and if he wasn’t willing to bring the matter up by himself, you’d give him a little push, then.

Knowing that you were within his range of view, you kept the conversation and managed to give it a flirty twist, knowing fully well that Elvis was watching closely, and oh, he was hating every single second of it.

Elvis felt a warm, burning feeling invading his insides, it began in his stomach and spread all over his chest, leaving an uncomfortable feeling, making him dig his fingernails into his palm and his jaw tick.

He didn’t like what he was seeing. He wasn’t happy with the way you were smiling up at the man, or how he was looking at you, and God, he hated to see your hand on the man’s arm, fingers slightly squeezing his bicep.

It was too much to take, so before doing something stupid that could ruin his career and push you away, Elvis walked away from where he was standing.

“Gotta get back before my sister realizes I sneaked in without her,” the man, whose name was Alex, chuckled. “I’ll call you later, though.”

“Sure!” you said with an amused smile, although you weren’t sure what amused you more, his timid attitude or the fact that you probably wouldn’t be available later. “See ya, Alex.”

The man walked away, looking back at you at least twice before he made it to the exit and back to the hundreds of fans lining up to enter the arena.

With a satisfied smile in your lips, you turned around and made your way to were Elvis had been standing, he wasn’t there anymore, though.

You had no issues making it to the backstage area, and soon enough, you found yourself in front of his dressing room door.

“Come in,” Elvis’ deep voice welcomed you as soon as you knocked the door three times, letting him know it was you.

When you walked in, you were greeted by the glorious sight of him wearing his full concert attire, his hair styled as always, some strands falling to his forehead as the sides remained slicked back.

He looked really handsome, you couldn’t lie. The color of his suit brought out his gorgeous blue eyes, and the cologne that invaded your senses made your knees weak.

You probably would’ve knelt for him if he asked you to.

“Who was that?” he asked nonchalantly, focusing his attention on combing his hair in front of the mirror.

“Who?” you asked, genuinely confused for a couple of seconds before you caught up. “Oh, Alex?”

“So he has a name, then.”

Oh.

“I just met him,” you hurried to attempt to explain yourself, even though you had no reason to. “He liked my dress and—“

“Bet he liked it,” Elvis scoffed, looking at you through the mirror reflection. “He’d have to be blind not to, baby.”

“Elvis…”

“You can’t go ‘round, talkin’ to strangers.”

“What?” you grimaced at him, not getting his argument. He was being senseless.

“We ain’t sure of his intentions,” he explained, though the way he clenched his jaw was a sign that he didn’t feel like explaining his reasons to you. “He could be dangerous.”

You scoffed at his words, and the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by him, for he turned around to face you, his jaw set and a single eyebrow raised, silently questioning you.

“He was nice, you know? And kind too,” you said with a simple shrug, acting innocent to his accusations. “He asked where I bought my dress, just that.”

“You told him I bought it for ya’?” he questioned, voice demanding an answer. “that I bought it for you jus’so I could rip it off your body whenever I wanted?”

“Of course not.”

“‘Course not,” he echoed your words, slowly wetting his lips as he looked down at his shoes before raising his head again, holding now a new composure.

“It would’ve ruined the conversation.”

“Why is that?” he ironically asked and didn’t even let you speak before he continued. “Oh right, ‘cause you were flirtin’ with him.”

Despite the soft tone and smile that decorated Elvis features, you could see past that and notice the annoyance he truly felt, he wasn’t happy with you, or what you’d done.

“So what if I was?” for the first time in all the time you’ve known the man, you talked back without a drop of hesitation.

Elvis was speechless, and it showed in the way both his eyebrows raised as he opened his mouth to say something, except that nothing came out. He thought he had the situation under control, that he had you right where he wanted— but then you went and said that.

“What do you mean ‘so what’?” he was about to go on a rant, but you interrupted him before he could even get started.

“I’m not yours, Elvis.”

Elvis stared at you silently, and that was more dangerous than anything he could’ve said. He was glaring at you, but within the waves of anger, you perceived swirls of lust deep in his blue eyes. He nodded his head slowly as he looked away, clicking his tongue as his eyes fell back on you, looking at you one last time before turning around.

You had poked the wrong tiger.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he rasps, his back fully turned to you. “The show is ‘bout to start, I can’t think straight with ya’ in here.”

“I- okay.“ you knew better than to argue with him.

“But you better be here by the time I get back.”

You nodded your head and silently made your way out, planning on sneaking into the crowd as soon as possible.

Elvis, on the other hand, was set on showing you just how wrong you were.

Elvis tried to not let what happened get to him. He tried to act normal. — The fans carried no guilt, right? So why should he behave any differently with them?

That was his thought process during the first 15 minutes of the show, he acted as his usual self, smiling, singing, swaying his hips at the beat of the music and sending ocasional flirty looks at random women on the audience to make them scream and blush.

He was trying his hardest to avoid looking at you, which you noticed.

He was doing a great work at pretending you weren’t there, but it was a genuine struggle. Elvis was so used to seeing you in the crowd, to finding your eyes with his, that it felt wrong to pretend you didn’t exist.

So, he acted mature and looked at where you stood.

And, remember when he was being decent? All those thoughts of decency got thrown out the window when he saw that fucking guy, Alex, standing next to you and whispering something into your ear— right in the middle of HIS concert.

From there on, there was no way for him to deny his sour mood.

The rest of the concert he spent dancing almost aggressively, singing certain songs with spite, and joking around, though it’s worth to mention his jokes were condescending, sarcastic even.

Anyone who knew him well enough could tell he was mad. And of course, you were the first one to notice. — Hard not to, considering he glared your way several times along the show.

Once the show was half a song from being over, you sneaked away from Alex’s presence and made your way discreetly to the backstage, to where Elvis expected you to be.

You only had to wait for 10 minutes before he walked through the door, sweaty, with heavy breathing, reddened cheeks and messy hair.

He was truly a sight to behold.

His eyes fell on you once, and that was more than enough to coax a smile out of your lips. A satisfied smile, at that. And boy, didn’t that piss him off even further.

He clicked his tongue and silently walked to the door, placing his big hand around the handle to close it shut, to get the privacy you’d certainly need.

“We gotta leave in 5!” A voice called down the hallway, right when Elvis was about to close the door.

Elvis audibly groaned and rolled his head around, closing his eyes and lowering his head as he exhaled heavily. What he wanted to do would definitely take more than 5 minutes.

Right when you were about to ask if he was okay, Elvis spun around to face you, a determined look in his eyes as he took a step closer to where you sat, offering you his hand.

“Let’s go,” he said angrily, not even looking at you but keeping his hand extended to you.

He was being a walking contradiction, and it’s safe to say you were slightly thrown off due to how he was handling the situation, but you knew that the best thing would be to listen to him.

You accepted his hand by taking it, he pulled you up with enough strength to make your body bump against his. He let go of your hand seconds after, but made sure to place it on your lower back as he walked you both to the exit.

People rushed left and right to pick up the scenario utilities, some of them stopped to take a glance at Elvis, but kept to themselves when they took notice of the way the singer’s bad mood— the way he pushed you around being proof of it.

You wanted to at least say goodbye, but Elvis couldn’t have cared less, when he felt you stopping and noticed the group of people in front, he huffed and applied more pressure on your lower back, forcing you to move.

“Goodbye, Elvis!” someone called, it was hard to tell who.

“Yeah.” he grumbled, walking to a chauffeur standing by the exit of the arena. “Could ya’ give me my keys? The Cadillac ones.”

You’d be leaving in his personal car.

The man seemed confused by the change of plans, but handed him his keys with a nod. Elvis grabbed the keys and hurried you both to the parking space where his car was parked.

Once you were there, Elvis opened the passenger’s door for you, offering you his hand to help you get in, you accepted the gesture while looking at him, but Elvis didn’t spare a glance your way.

When you were inside, he shut the door and walked around the car, getting inside and immediately turning on the car, remaining speechless and not staring at you, acting as if you weren’t there.

That’s when you knew you’d screwed up for real. He was MAD, not even playful mad, just plain out mad.

The drive to the hotel would’ve been peaceful under any other circumstances. But at that moment? The tension could be felt in the air, it emanated from Elvis as intensely as his cologne did.

His grip on your thigh was almost a bit too harsh, and you wondered if the tight grip he kept around the steering wheel didn't hurt his fingers— as his knuckles were white from the strain.

Elvis had always been a very talkative person with you, he always had something to say, an anecdote to tell or an idea to share with you. For that very reason, he knew damn well how crazy his silence was driving you.

But you deserved it.

“Elvis.” you finally said, staring at him as he drove silently.

No answer came from him, and if it weren't for the way his jaw clenched, you would have thought he didn't hear you.

“You know I didn’t mean to upset you, right?” your voice was soft and delicate, small even, devoid of the playful nature you’d had earlier. “I was just messing around.”

“Hm.”

“I didn’t mean—“ you continued, or at least attempted to before he interrupted you curtly.

“Ya’ never mean a thing, do ya’ baby?” he rasped out, an ironic tone bleeding through his voice.

Oh, fuck.

“Your hand just happened to land on his arm,” he kept talking, his grip around the wheel getting impossibly tighter. “Must ‘ave been a gust of wind, that made it land there.”

“I—“

“And that little smirk appeared on your lips, heavens know how, ‘cause ya’ didn’t mean any of it, right?” He was being sarcastic, but his voice and tense frame exuded anger.

“I- I don’t,” suddenly you were feeling very nervous, unable to get a proper hold of your words. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Hm.”

You weren’t sure of what worried you more, his short ‘hm’ or just how angry he sounded whenever he spoke.

But even through his act, you could see the real emotion he felt. He was jealous. And despite the situation, it was a good sign. It meant that the cared about you, that he actually gave a damn whether other people were interested in you or not, that the idea of losing you wasn’t of his liking.

Once at his place, the path to his bedroom was familiar to you, so much so that there was no need to speak or even look at each other, this was destined to end in one place, and one place only.

In his bedroom, Elvis latched the door shut, and still with his back to you, pressed his forehead against the door, and sighed heavily, as if he was trying to relax.

The thought that he might feel sick crossed your mind, after all, the amounts of adrenaline he dealt with after concerts were immense.

And as if he had read your mind, Elvis straightened up and turned to you, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the universe. You felt small under his gaze, and rightfully so.

“I’m so done with this lil game of yours, mama,” he assured you, both hands on his hips to enhance his attitude. “I ain’t playin’ no more.”

“What?” you questioned, genuinely concerned. What if he decided that enough is enough and decided to break things up?

“Get on that bed, right now.” he barked the order at you, nodding his head to the king side bed behind you.

He didn’t have to tell you twice, with your eyes still on him, you took a couple of steps back and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Now what?”

“Imma show you how I’ve owned ya’ since the first time I had ya’.”

He sounded completely sure of his words, the dark look in his eyes was all you needed to know he meant it. Without noticing, you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the tension.

It only took a couple of long steps for Elvis to be in front of you. Without another word, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, it wasn't a caress or a sweet gesture, his lips moved against yours with desperation, both of his hands were placed at your sides, trapping you between the bed and his body.

With one arm around your torso, Elvis moved you higher on the bed, his body following yours immediately, his lips still against yours.

His hands balled up your dress, trying to get it out of the way without having to separate from you, eventually, he got fed up and ripped the fabric off your body, tearing apart the dress that had started it all.

He slid his tongue inside your mouth, as he opened the clasp of your bra (which was located between your breasts), and threw the clothing piece away.

You fell back to the bed, and he followed suit. Immediately, you felt him hard against your thigh and thought you’d have it your way, however, his lips began to move down to your neck, to your breasts where he sucked and licked till you begged him to do something else, and continued going down and down, sliding your underwear down your legs on his way down, until his head was between your thighs, his face inches away from your pussy.

"I wanna taste ya’." he said, his fingers teasing the sensitive area, brushing against your clit and caressing near your entrance.

"Fuck Elvis, please," you begged and he huffed. "Just fuck me already."

That was tempting enough, but now that he had the upper hand of the teasing game, Elvis found it hard to let go.

"I want to eat you out," he said, caressing your thighs softly to relax you. "you're not gonna turn down what I give you, are you? You’re smarter than that.”

Fuck, that got you.

You opened your legs even more so he'd have better access, and you felt his smirk against your skin, as he placed a little kiss in the inside of your thigh.

"That’s what I thought." he teased, always with his need to have the last word.

He wrapped both arms around your thighs to keep them open and lowered his head, doing his thing.

His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out a moan you were ashamed of, because of how ridiculously loud it had been.

He let go one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, using his free hand to slide it in between your legs and all the way inside you, while keeping his relentless pace with his tongue.

His fingers buried inside you rhythmically, they curled against your sweet spot right when he sucked harshly on your clit, and his tongue would twirl around as his fingers reached deep.

The sounds you let out, the way you pulled on his hair and clenched around his fingers were clear signals that you were about to cum, so what if he just...

He pulled out his fingers and removed his head from between your thighs, having the perfect view of your face, realizing that he'd denied you an orgasm.

"Elvis!"

"What is it, doll?" he asked innocently, licking his fingers, making your eyes roll to the back of your head in both annoyance and need.

"Just take me..."

“Hm,” he pretended to think about it, before plunging two fingers back inside you, continuing with his ministrations as if he hadn’t stopped at all.

He was doing everything he knew drove you insane. He curled his fingers in the right spot, kept the perfect speed and went so deep that his knuckles would disappear, his fingers coated in your wetness easing the work for him.

“See how well I know ya’?” he questioned, an undeniable cocky tone in his voice, his eyes drinking up on the sight of you, moaning desperately, arching your back as you tried your best to ride his fingers, but to no avail.

You could barely understand what he was saying, so lost in the pleasure, the ecstasy being almost a little too much.

“I know that if I curl my fingers here,” he emphasized his words by curling his fingers inside your pussy, the tips of his fingers pressing on your spot. “and keep ‘em there, you’ll be cumming all over my hand.”

He wasn’t wrong. You felt your release getting closer with every second that passed, and his cocky attitude was only riling you up.

“Please.” you begged, voice raspy after moaning so much.

“Now you’re being nice,” he had a shit-eating smile plastered on his face, a shame you were to fucked out to see it. “ain’t that cute?”

“Please, Elvis,” you begged, saying his name in the perfect pitch to make his dick twitch inside his pants. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Nah, that ain’t gonna happen.” he shook his head, stilling his fingers inside you.

“What?” your eyes widened as you looked at him in disbelief.

“The only way you’re gettin’ off tonite is around my cock,” he assured, pulling his fingers out of your wet pussy with ease. “Do you deserve it, tho?”

“Elvis, I’m sorry… I—“ you didn’t know what else to say, the absence of his fingers inside you being almost painful. “Please.”

He couldn't help but smirk, he had you completely under his control, had you begging and pleading for him, and that made him harder than he already was.

He began to unbuckle his belt slowly, letting the buckle rattle as it opened, slowly pulling the belt out of the loops as he stared at you, devouring your naked body with his gaze.

“Ya’ should consider yourself lucky I won’t have it any other way,” Elvis sighed, pulling down his pants and freeing his dick, which slapped his lower abdomen right after. “It’s my cock or nothing.”

That was a way to ask for permission, he wanted to make sure you wanted this to happen, because despite of how turned on he was, he wanted to be certain you desired him.

You nodded your head repeatedly, spreading your legs open for him, an open invitation for him to delve in. So he did.

A relieved moan left your lips when Elvis buried himself inside you, slipping in easily but still managing to stretch you out deliciously, as if it were the first time.

“You wanna be a good girl for me?” he asked right into your ear, giving you some seconds to adjust to his size.

“Yes, yes, just for you.”

“Then you’re gonna cum when I tell ya’ to.”

For a solid two seconds, you thought you would be able to meet the challenge - however, Elvis started to thrust and all your composure went to shit.

His eyes found yours as he took on a fast, hard, deep pace, the eye contact made you shudder, and a satisfied grin formed on his lips as his hips moved against yours- he felt and looked so good… you tightened your walls around him, causing him to let out an almost feral sound.

His arms caged you against the bed, his lips pressed against the skin of your neck and his pace fastened, your legs were over his thighs, so all he had to do to get a new angle, was to wrap your legs around his waist and push up.

Despite the fact that it was supposed to be some sort of punishment for you, Elvis was doing every single thing he knew drove you insane, getting his own pleasure by bringing yours to your body with every thrust of his hips.

“Such pretty noises you're making for me… am I making ya’ feel good?” Elvis didn't know where he got the control to keep teasing you, since his cock was so deep inside you that its outline surely bulged in your stomach.

“Y-yes, fuck, Elvis, ah-“ you couldn’t even speak properly.

“That’s right, right there, isn’t it?” he said with a satisfied smirk, as his hips thrust at a certain angle that made the tip of his dick make contact with your g-spot. “I am, only I can make ya feel this way, baby.”

“Oh my- yeah, yeah.” you nodded clumsily, probably not listening to a single word he said. And while it was an ego-booster to know he was fucking you so damn good you could barely speak, Elvis wanted you, needed you, to listen.

“Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't ya’?” he slowed his thrusts down to almost nothing, he wanted you to answer properly. “You like when I’m jealous?”

“If you keep fucking me like this,” you mumble, voice raspy as Elvis slows down to a stop. “I’m gonna love it.”

He wanted to be mad. You were making him jealous on purpose, even though you knew how much he hated it— yet couldn't deny your brattiness made him so horny, he wanted to fuck it out of you.

So he did, picking up his pace again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, his lips sucking on the skin below your ear, before kissing your jaw and finally your lips.

“You’re mine, all fuckin mine,” he mumbled over your lips, his cock fucking you like never before, going deeper than ever. “My Y/N.”

“All yours,” you manage to say, your eyes snapping shut as your walls begin to clench around his cock, tighter every time. “always was.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

His pace changed, now his hips moved with a sole purpose. Making you come.

Not too long after, Elvis felt you clenching around him again, your walls tightening around his dick repeatedly, your moans had gotten high-pitched, and he was pretty sure he could feel your nails scratching the hell out of his back.

Knowing you wouldn't be able to resist much longer, Elvis cupped your face in his hand, turning your face so he could look you directly in the eye as he said it.

“Cum for me angel, c’mon.”

And as if your body was trained to listen to his commands, your orgasm came instantly, the wave of pleasure being so intense that your eyes rolled, your back arched and your thighs pressed against his body, your heels pushing against his lower back to drive him deeper inside you, if possible.

Being so deep inside you while you climaxed did it for him, and he shortly followed, spilling inside you as his hips stuttered in between thrusts.

To say you were exhausted was to underestimate the situation, Elvis fell on top of you, as you both caught your breath. He wanted to stay there forever, but it wasn't hygienic.

You were still too lost in the after high to notice he had stood up and walked to the bathroom, and it wasn't until you felt the damp towel between your legs that you reacted with a little hiss, the material of the soft towel making contact with your sensitive pussy.

Neither of you said anything. You were falling asleep, while Elvis thought about how to structure his statement without causing another fight.

Once you were clean, Elvis discarded the towel and walked back to bed, lying down next to you, the sheets felt warm and slightly damp with sweat, but he ignored it, he had more important things to concentrate on.

Your breathing was slowing down, he knew that if he wanted to say something, he would have to say it fast, so he forced himself to speak before it was too late.

“You do know this is so much more than just sex for me, don’t ya?” his voice, unusually small, asked as his eyes focused on the dark ceiling.

“I hope so,” You yawned, rolling your body on the bed to get closer to him, your head pressed against his arm, finding a way to cuddle against it. “Because it sure is for me.”

You were so sleepy, it was hard to know if you were even aware of what you were saying— regardless, Elvis was happy, he couldn’t stop the smile that took over his lips.

“Good,” he grunted and wrapped his arm around you, pulling your body closer so you could rest your head on his chest. “‘Cause I ain’t letting you go.”