#every time i see him i am reminded of a sad wet cat

[moxie-girl]

why hunter is actually just a scraggly sad kitten pt 1, ft a bunch of badly-cropped stock photos of various cats

[yuujispinkhair]

Great, now I can’t decide on being Yuji’s housewife or Yuji being my househusband. wuwuwuwuwuwu

Aww that is so true!! Both would be perfect!! I wrote some headcanons for both versions, so you can decide which one you prefer :)

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, some smutty scenes, oral, fingering, creampie. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Version 1: Being Yuuji's housewife

Being Yuuji's housewife who stays at home while Yuuji, your hero, goes on missions to keep the city safe. Either as a Jujutsu sorcerer or as a firefighter. You are so proud of your husband, and anytime you tell him, he gets the cutest blush on his cheeks and the happiest smile on his handsome face.

Yuuji is so grateful for you to be so patient and understanding of his work schedule and that he sometimes has to leave the house at ungodly hours.

His job can be tough and emotionally draining. But anytime Yuuji looks at his lock screen on his phone and sees your face, he knows that he will make it through this day too because he knows at home you are waiting for him, ready to comfort him and love him, and that gives him the strength to go on.

"I am so lucky to have you, baby. Thank you so much for taking such good care of me!" Yuuji truly means it! It's so comforting to know that you are looking after the household, taking this weight off his shoulders, and making his apartment a real home filled with love and warmth.

There are also evenings when Yuuji comes home all riled up because he encountered some stuff at work that made him angry or sad, and now he needs you so much to help him fuck all those negative feelings away. He is so grateful that you let him take you as hard as he needs on those nights.

It's the best stress relief for him to pound your wet pussy until both of you scream from pleasure. And suddenly, your usually so gentle husband is using all his strength to push your face into the pillow and fuck you so rough that you see stars.

Yuuji brings you flowers every week to show you how happy he is that you stay at home and are his sweet housewife. He is grinning from ear to ear and kissing you tenderly when he presses the bouquet into your arms and thanks you for your hard work. Other guys might not see all the work you do at home, but Yuuji knows how much effort it takes to look after a household, and he is genuinely so grateful for everything you do.

Yuuji doesn't have much time during his workday, but he still makes sure to send you short texts or pictures from work, making you smile fondly at your phone. It's so sweet to see how he thinks of you, even during his busy work schedule.

Firefighter Yuuji makes you go "aww" when he sends you pictures of the animals he rescued from trees or burning houses. "Look at this little man who got stuck on a tree!" And on Yuuji's broad shoulders sits a fluffy cat that snuggles gratefully against your husband while Yuuji grins into the camera and makes a thumbs-up pose.

Jujutsu sorcerer Yuuji sends you pictures of interesting places he visits during his missions. He knows that you tend to get worried about him, so he uses those little messages to reassure you. A sign that he is ok and will come home to you again. And there is always an "I love you, baby." at the end of every message. Because Yuuji knows that his work is dangerous, and if something should happen to him, he wants you to know how he feels about you.

As hard as his job is, Yuuji still helps so much with the household chores! That's just the way he is. You don't have to tell him to take out the trash or to please help with the dishes. Those are things Yuuji does without needing a reminder.

And there are also a lot of occasions on which sweet Yuuji tells you that tonight he is in charge of dinner and you should just take a nice bath or watch your fave show. After all, he loves cooking and, even more importantly, he loves you, and he knows how tiring it can be to do the same household tasks every single day. He did that for several years while his grandpa was too sick to do those things. So he understands that sometimes you need a break too!

Yuuji makes you feel appreciated and loved. And even though you usually just wear your ratty sweatpants or leggings and Yuuji's hoodies with no makeup and unstyled hair, you always feel desired because Yuuji shows you and tells you how much he wants you and how pretty and sexy you are to him.

You might be cleaning the sink when your husband suddenly hugs you from behind, kisses your neck, and lets his large warm hands wander under your shirt to caress your tits and then slip one hand into your pants to play with you while his hoarse voice whispers in your ear how crazy you drive him. "My sexy cutie. The cutest housewife ever. I think you should take a break now, baby. Let me take care of you now."

And your strong and sexy husband picks you up in his muscular arms and carries you to your bed, where he shows you how much he appreciates his cute little housewife by making you cum over and over again on his thick cock while telling you how good you are for him.

All in all, being Yuuji's housewife is a very nice and relaxed job. He helps so much and is so full of praise and appreciation for your work!

Version 2: Househusband Yuuji

Househusband Yuuji is the sweetest thing to come home to after a stressful day at work! He greets you with that bright sunshine smile on his pretty face and a tight and warm hug. That happy sparkle in his honey eyes is pure serotonin to you, and the feeling of that firm, tall body full of muscles and warmth is very comforting!

A yummy dinner is waiting for you every night. Staying at home gave Yuuji a chance to excel even more at cooking. He loves to watch cooking shows and learn new recipes. And he is amazing at it! You eat better than in most restaurants!

Househusband Yuuji is your safe place. He always listens to you when you need to pour your heart out. His tight warm hugs and reassuring words always make you feel better.

And Yuuji lets you be soft. While at work, you have to be strong and act professionally, here at home, you can melt into Yuuji's strong arms and use his buff chest as your pillow while he strokes your hair and lets you vent.

His growled, "I will punch that idiot if he ever rats you out to your boss again," when you complain about your asshole coworker, makes you smile. The knowledge that Yuuji, who used to get called The Tiger of West Junior High and beat up bullies in high school, would actually do that if you wanted, is so comforting. Even though you would never ask him to do that for real because you don't want your sweet man to get in trouble.

Househusband Yuuji always prepares a lunchbox for you. And your workday gets so much better anytime you find a cute little message in it. A scribbled "I love you, cutie!" or "Don't let them get you down. You got this, baby!" or other sweet and encouraging things. And you always get the best bento with cute animal faces and everything. All your coworkers are jealous of your lunchbox and that you have such a super hot and supportive husband at home.

Yuuji is good at housework! He is used to it since he had to learn how to do all chores, cook, and manage a household when he was still a teenager. He used to live alone and look after himself, so he knows what he's doing. And Yuuji is very committed to pleasing you and giving you a comfy and clean home to relax in after work. He takes his work as a househusband very seriously!

Househusband Yuuji also looks lovingly after every pet you might get. And, of course, after your kids, if you have any. He is such a loving daddy for pets and kids! So sweet and protective and fun. You come home to loud laughter and squealing when Yuuji plays games with your toddler and/or pet. It instantly manages to brighten your day when you hear those happy sounds.

Househusband Yuuji is a very caring man who knows exactly how to take care of you after a stressful day at work. You forget all your problems when Yuuji's pretty face is buried between your spread thighs, and his sweet lips and tongue make love to your pussy until you are a sobbing and happy mess.

While your boss might not praise you for all the hard work, Yuuji never gets tired of telling you how proud he is of you! He is balls-deep in you, dicking you down so good that you scratch his muscular back with your fingernails, and all the while, his sweet sexy voice moans the sweetest praise into your ear.

"You are such a good girl, so hard working. I am so proud of you, princess. Does this feel good, baby? You deserve to cum so hard, baby." And you always do. Yuuji makes sure of that. And so you cum on his cock, on his tongue, or on his fingers, moaning his name and crying from all the love and pleasure your husband gives to you.

No matter how challenging your job is, coming home to your loving and sexy househusband and getting a nice creampie almost every night makes everything good again.

Thank you so much for reading! And also thank you so much for sending me this ask!! It made me so happy to imagine those scenarios!! I am more the housewife type, so I will pick version 1 :) I know Yuuji would be so appreciative awww. It warms my heart to think about him!

Which version do you choose? :) Please let me know how you liked these little headcanons. Comments and reblogs make me happy :)

[firethekitty]

Ranking Every Wolfwood!!

happy wolfwood wednesday! i've ranked every wolfwood and it very quickly got out of hand and turned into more of a character analysis/meta. it was really fun and helped me better understand why i love this guy so much!

yes, really!

i hope you guys enjoy and that my autistic rambling makes sense!

1. trimax wolfwood. yeah he’s perfect. nothing else to say. god bless

while i can’t fit everything i love about him into one post, just know that i’ve written almost 30,000 words in wolfwood (and vash) character studies. so when i say “i like trimax wolfwood” that really means “i am fucking obsessed with trimax wolfwood”.

he’s the perfect mix of silly and heartbreaking, funny and serious, annoying like an older brother, deeply kind, so so painfully human; and a PERFECT foil to vash. simply phenomenal writing.

my only complaint would be that his tits are not on display like they are in the 1998 anime. but i can appreciate the subtly, so this doesn’t detract from his otherwise flawless score.

2. 98 wolfwood. omg hiiiii hehe twirling my hair ohh he’s so handsome what an absolutely beautiful design for him. his nose, his spider-esque shape, his TITS…… they even kept his little whiskers!

on top of an amazing design, he’s a very good balance of silly, irritable, playfully annoying, and serious! he fits pre-trimax wolfwood to a T!

but, as trimax progressed…

he’s cool. too cool. he has too much pull. wolfwood should NOT have swag. genuinely it is imperative to his character that he is, and i say this as lovingly as possible, a fucking loser with no friends.

wolfwood is a deeply traumatized man. he isn’t nearly as charming as we, the audience, thinks he is. no one laughs at his jokes, his insults are crude and immature, he embarrasses himself in front of literal children…

god, he is so painfully awkward. and who wouldn’t be in his situation? to have your childhood stolen and forced to grow up as a weapon? not allowed to interact casually with anyone else during the most important developmental stage of your life?

he's just not suave like tri98 wolfwood is. so, while 98 wolfwood is an excellent character, he doesn’t entirely read “wolfwood” to me. similar to how 98 vash is good on his own, but he’s just not “vash”. this is, of course, the result of making an anime out of a manga that wasn’t even 30% finished at the time. while i don’t understand the reasoning behind this, i know that nightow desperately needed the funds the anime brought in, as well as the motivation to keep making trimax, so i have to simply make peace with the dated characterizations tri98 has.

but don’t get me started on the milly situation. really a godawful writing decision, idk who approved that mess.

3. tristamp wolfwood. he is so bullyable. he’s like a sopping wet cat. absolute fucking dweeb.

i debated this for a long time—whether i should rank tristamp wolfwood above tri98 wolfwood. and i asked myself, do i love tri98 wolfwood because he’s a good character and is similar to trimax wolfwood? does he even remind me of trimax wolfwood at all? well, not really, he’s very clearly based on pre-trimax, just like tri98 vash is.

ultimately i decided i do genuinely just prefer tri98 wolfwood, but i felt the need to defend tristamp wolfwood because i see a lot of fair criticisms but also really dumb discourse throughout the fandom about him. so here’s my attempt at trying to address these:

so, there are some things i really enjoy about him and some things i really dislike; and, unlike vash, most of these criticisms are not a result of time/pacing issues. they’re easily fixable.

like, for the love of god he NEEDS to get sillier. they got the loser part down, but he’s a bit too overtly sad in tristamp. i think he will be more like his trimax self in season 2, but wolfwood’s humor is in-part a coping mechanism and important to his character. he’s an older brother! he’s fucking annoying! he thinks he's funny when he isn't! we do get a little bit of this with him and meryl, when he's tormenting her at the campfire, and that’s what i want to see more of. even if he’s playing it up, he should be working on getting their guards down, convincing them he isn't going to betray them.

since tristamp takes place in a weird prequel sort of canon, i get that he would look/act younger than he is in trimax. i think he was modeled after the teenage wolfwood we see in the flashback scenes of him training for the eye of michael, where he’s noticeably less outgoing and more reserved.

however, this doesn’t change the fact that he WAS silly as a kid in trimax, before his “teenage angst phase” (hate to call it that when it’s more like a “realizing he’s going to die by the gun and not being able to do anything about it” phase). but he’s still a lot quieter and reserved in tristamp as a kid, so i think we really need to find a good balance here in the trigun adaptations.

another example of an easily fixable issue—i really hate how they did the “vash sees how kind wolfwood is” scene, in which wolfwood gives money/snacks to children. in tristamp, wolfwood already knows the kid is zazie, which tells us absolutely nothing about his character. this scene is almost entirely worthless, only good for reminding vash that he should eat, which gives tristamp its own not-as-good hospital yuri scene.

and, so, about the elephant in the room… i don’t think he was whitewashed. let me try to explain my thought process.

tristamp, as far as i can tell, doesn’t seem to be taking any inspiration from tri98, whose wolfwood is very explicitly a brown man. trimax wolfwood i feel is a bit more ambiguous in his skin tone, which alternates between dark screentones and completely uncolored pretty much at solid 50/50 odds. just fairly inconsistent overall, even on the official manga covers.

but this doesn’t mean wolfwood is white in tristamp, and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his aquiline nose. the notorious scenes of him in the suns, looking white as a fucking sheet, shows us how a 3D environment can diminish a character’s silhouette and distinctive features.

compare this to scenes of wolfwood in a dim environment, or to the 2D scenes of child wolfwood and livio that i can't include bc i'm only allowed 10 pics. he looks MUCH better, much darker than vash, and as they both should appear in such lighting. it just doesn't add up—he should be much darker in strong light if they followed the same color values:

SO, even though i feel like all of this is more of a technical issue rather than malicious whitewashing, that doesn’t mean i think it’s acceptable. it looks fucking awful, and the lighting system needs major improvement to work with darker skin tones.

and, like, at the end of the day, wolfwood isn’t canonically latino, and he doesn't really have a consistent skin tone either. it’s a great headcanon, one i partially share, but it’s not canon. the only ethnicity that could technically be considered somewhat canon is japanese, as wolfwood was based off a japanese singer named tortoise matsumoto. you can see this resemblance best in early trigun!

and i really need to defend his nose!!! a lot of people say he lost his nose but he didn’t!! i promise it’s there!!! another victim of his 3D model, you can only see his nose from the side or in the 2D frame after he gets his shit wrecked. see how clearly he has a very well-defined nose when he’s hand-drawn? this is what i mean when i say a 3D environment can drastically alter a character’s important features, as much as i otherwise adore the animation for this show.

also, if you think nightow would let studio orange get away with not including his nose, you got another thing coming.

in conclusion, while i think tristamp wolfwood is a great start, he’s just not quite there yet. but i have immense faith that the next time we see him, he’ll look and act a lot more like he does in trimax!

i know this is true, because there are already some shots in tristamp where i’m just like. oh yeah. there he is. that’s wolfwood. there's the guy i love so much

...

well, that was long! this was really fun to write and i

oh jesus christ what the hell is that thing

4. badlands rumble wolfwood. ah, now here’s a great example of overt whitewashing. no lighting excuses this time, just blatant colorism.

even if he wasn’t ghostly white, there's just something about his design that makes me viscerally uncomfortable and i can’t pinpoint what it is exactly. he’s just so… angular. he has no scruff, no kitty cat mouth, his eyes are very oddly shaped, almost no eyebrows... i just really hate looking at him!

his ONLY saving grace is how mentally ill he acts in this movie. and his tits. otherwise i don’t really have much to say about him!

ok, now we’re done! and here’s a handy wolfwood chart i made to summarize everything.

really hope this was fun to read and if people liked this i'd be glad to write a vash version or other characters!! happy woowoo wednesday :)

[altruistic-meme]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

hi dear!!! i definitely don't mind AT ALL i love getting questions!!!! i probably have answered this question before, but this is one of those things that's subject to change pretty often as i find new characters and they take over from older ones :] so i will probably never give the exact same answer twice dksvjsdfh

ok ok that said, let me see... in no particular order:

Damianos of Akielos (Book: Captive Prince trilogy) quite literally THE man of all time. THE man of my dreams. he is such a beautifully written character who is so complex and interesting to read!! he is so gentle and caring despite his size, and he has a confidence i can only aspire to.

Neil Josten (Book: All For The Game trilogy) unhinged maniac 🧡 no but genuinely he is such a good main character. everything about him and his narration pulls you in to the story. he is the most unreliable narrator. his perspective is so skewed. also my namesake!!

Nakahara Chuuya (Anime/Series: Bungo Stray Dogs) i may or may not have somewhat of an obsession with him right now. he is literally so pretty that i throw my phone. but also he is so unbearably human in an incredibly tragic way, and he is that way because he actively chooses to be. he is a high ranking member of the mafia and he loves dogs and he promised his dying friend that he would save someone else and he is so loyal and bright. i am going to stop while im ahead bc 90% of my thoughts right now are about Chuuya so i could genuinely go on forever.

Victor Nikiforov (Anime: Yuri!!! ON Ice) he is so sad

Hinata Shoyo (Anime: Haikyuu!!) he is just so fucking BRIGHT!!! unlike Victor, Hinata is the exact opposite of me in almost every sense. it is so hard for me to watch anyone else when he's on the screen. he is just joy and energy incarnate and i want to be his friend so bad.

Spiderman (TV Show/Movie/Comic) this is a cheat because it's just. every iteration of spiderman. i love him. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman!! i have such a soft spot for Miles Morales' spiderman in particular due to the spiderverse movies, but i also really loved all of the live action spiderman movies. and we can't forget the tv show!!!

Prince Wilhelm (Show: Young Royals) fucking babygirl. yet another sad wet cat of a character who i project onto immensely. he is just so complex and interesting and so real and flawed and just. listen. having the weight of the world rest on your shoulders as you struggle with trying to make friends and fight your anxiety and handle your mother all by yourself is something i have dealt with too. i can't put into words all my thoughts about him right now, but rest assured there are More.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III (Book: How to Train Your Dragon series) don't get me wrong, i love the movie version of him as well, but they are such different characters. and the book version of Hiccup has an incredibly special place in my heart. httyd is such a comfort read for me, and it was huge for me getting to grow up with Hiccup. he is just a fucking little guy and he goes through so much. but he keeps going. he didn't deserve any of it and he fights so hard to make sure no one else has to go through it like he did. gods i love him.

Charlie Spring (Comic: Heartstopper) same as with Hiccup, i love him in the show as well but to me the characters are so different and i just relate so much more to the comic version of him! he is a mess and i love him and relate to him. i wish i had what he has. i am also so proud of how far he has come!! and he reminds me to be proud of myself, too. also see; sassy motherfucker.

Kenai (Movie: Brother Bear) a strange choice, maybe, but this movie means SO much to me. it is a huge comfort movie. and Kenai, by virtue of being the main character, clearly gets the leg up as the favorite. but it's so amazing seeing him grow as a person (or. well. bear). he's funny, he tries so hard, he wants so much. and he's just a kid!! he learns so much!!

there are definitely some patterns in my favorite characters that i am going to choose not to look too closely at :') i have so many characters i adore. this was so hard ;;;

[sakiye]

OH EM GEE TELL ME ALL YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT ATSV :3

OF COURSE, atsv spoilers obviously

well first off, i really loved the scenes with the spiderpeople (gwen and miles really) and their parents, you were clearly able to see the love, but also the stress that is present in the relationships because of the kids not being able to tell who they are

that being said, rio's and miles' scene on the rooftop was so sweet and idk i really loved everything about it. i believe that in the next movie that he'll tell them about being spiderman, and i don't think it'll go as horribly as he may think

also miles is literally my favorite protagonist ever, he's the sweetest ever and so kind and he's so friendly (the nervous dance before meeting miguel and also calling him 'Tío') and he's so caring and he desperately wants to help whoever he can. if he is even sad for one second i will somehow beam myself into whatever universe and fight idc.

also for the family scenes, those were very relatable, i literally had my handss across my mouth when miles said whatever, i was like "no wayyyy" and also i cringed every time gwen said their first names, im sorry

i also adored the spiderpeople we met in the last movie and i adored the spiderpeople we met in this movie. i ofc loved seeing gwen and peter b (who reminds me a lot of my uni freshman math prof, especially with his child who was soooo cute) but it hurt when miles asked them about them visiting and during peter b's and miles' talk and the location thingy went off.

i also loved seeing peni, peter porker, and spidernoir in the end too, i missed them so much.

as for the new spiderpeople, ahhh they were the best!!! hobie's literally my bff idc (i can overlook the british for 1. ONE man). i also adored pavitr (i could sort of understand the hindi so win for me!!!) and margo was literally sooo cool.

jess and miguel were really cool and i really liked them as characters. as for miguel, i can sort of see where he's coming from (not that i like it but...), i liked his story and im really interested to see what's going to happen in the next movie for him, lowkey reminds me of a wet cat but whateverrr

i want to see jess moreee i really loved her!!!

i really liked how the spidersociety as a whole was designed, it was just a nice nod to everyone's abilities and what we know as the spiderverse as a whole.

im glad that gwen's dad is not a cop anymore. very glad.

i am also very stressed for jeff, i don't want him to die.

i am excited for the family scenes in the next movie, they will make me cry im sure.

the twist that he wasn't in his universe was so well done, i was literally shocked, but it made sense seeing the trains falling and all when he was going to his house.

also the ending!!! i'm really excited for what's going to happen in the next movie (also very stressed but i digress) it's really interesting to me to see the hero of the story face off against a different version of himself who is not so much that.

overall, i loved the plot, i am so excited for the next movie, and the animation was literally gorgeous, i loved all the styles and the different techniques and literally everything.

this movie was amazing!!!

[random-conspiracy]

Blorbos (I guess?)

(Here's the thing, I have 5 minutes before I have to go back to drawing architecture plans. Don't tell anything to the Administrative-High-Secretary part of my mind.)

Time ago I did not have something as a favorite character beyond some guys I liked, but nothing more. Then Tumblr made some silly brainwashing shenanigans (blorbo) and this is the list updated to this exact moment:

Karkat Vantas (Homestuck [As if the clarifications were necessary])

Harry Du Bois (Disco Elysium)

Daniel James Fenton/Danny Phantom (Danny Phantom)

Evelyn Wang (Everything Everywhere All At Once)

The Warden (Superjail)

Perseus Jackson (Percy Jackson & The Olympians)

You can bet your ass I'm completely forgetting someone. I'm pretty sure of that. I constantly have to remind myself of writting down my favorite movies/series/books/music/etc because I'm one disco night of completely forget who the fuck I am.

Everyone of these pieces of shit are crucial puzzle pieces in the way I think of myself and the world. (Ok, that sounds waaaaaaaaaay deeper than it actually is, but whatever).

Karkat Vantas: God damn it. I mean. How not to love him. He's so brave and silly and crazy and mean and full of love for his friends and full of hate for everything. When I think about "putting blorbo in situations" he's the one because is so fucking funny. I want to push him in a washing machine (full cycle) and then give him a party. About fanart, I specially like the ones where he's smiling. After the chaos Homestuck was and even before with Alternia's death traps, I really (REALLY) want him to be happy. And here me out, I'm aromantic so I don't really relate a lot with romantic crushes and stuff BUT that stupid animation of him hate-falling for Egbert broke my heart. The music, the MUSIC!!!. AAAAAAAAAAAAAA. (However, Dave Strider is another cool dude, and seeing them together is the only thing that still makes me want a romantic relationship).

Harry Du Bois: I like to think about Karkat when I need comfort in my life, but the real deal in that place is for Harry. During the game I was so attached to him that when I found out about the hobocop (sleep outside, specially the trash bin thing), I was pretty sure I was going to cry if that happened. Harry is hilarious and I love him. Is a fucking mess and the most sad wet pathetic cat (I don't care about Vriska). I tried to make the best person out of Harry. Be kind, be gentle. Go to sleep and don't abuse drugs, caring for himself and for others. "You can live Harry!" I used to whisper. Now, when I find myself at 3:00 am feeling empty, drinking unhealthy dosis of coffee and energy drinks, without having taken a bath in a week I think of him. And I cry.

Daniel James Fenton/Danny Phantom: This one is slightly creepy. When I was a boy I used to have very non-traumatic thoughts like "what would happen if I died?", "would someone care?". I used to imagine myself as a ghost wandering through my funeral. And OH BOY! You can bet your ass I used to think about Danny too. Not quite dead, not quite alive. And turns out I wasn't the only one! Hahaha. A quick check of the #Corpse AU tag and holy shit. The Phandom is doing horrible things to this kid and I'm here for that. I don't have those thoughts anymore (at least not that recurrently). I like his silliness, and specially, the theme of identity. Have you ever imagined what it must be like to hold your own skull? Visit your own grave? He's the one I make suffer the most (as a way to process my own dark thoughts), hahaha, but as the others, I imagine for him a happy life. (Even if your corpse is rotting in Amity's forest).

Evelyn Wang: Until last year, I did not have a favorite movie either. That changed after 10 minutes of EEAAO. I have watched this movie at least 50 times just in the following 3 months and I cry every time. If I told you about Evelyn, what should I tell you? I love how she's a little of shit at the beggining. And I look through her eyes, wondering "what if?". I'm in my 20's but everything seems so possible. Being an architect, devouring the world, dying in a traffic accident. Everything is happening at the same time and I feel that I'm falling behind. Her journey is finding the empathy that she lacked to embrace her life. Glimpses of other worlds. A buffet of possibilities and choices. Full of inconditional love. You can look at my cover photo: Is Rock Evelyn, and her phrase "There are no rules" will forever be in my heart (and hopefully, in my skin this year). She made me want to live. (Oh my god, I'm about to cry again). And, as a extra. I know the DMS-V ADHD syptoms from memory and watching the movie was like playing bingo. I'm sorry Percy, but EVELYN? Girl, you don't have ADHD. You ARE the ADHD!

The Warden: He may be the one I care the least, in a intimate sense. BUT JESUS CHRIST!!! The energy this goof has is obnoxious. Fire, hell and rainbows. Oh boy! OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY!!!! (And the mannerisms god lord. I want to steal his gender)

Percy Jackson: And finally, the first character I had a deep relationship with. I mean, I never was sooooo into him. He made me realize that MAYBE I wasn't what we call "straight" hashahsha. (I feel you Nico). Another goof you may say, but I really like the way the prophecy is handled about him , like the gallow of his own death. I don't have something particular for heroes, but he was a very important part of my life (the books in general) when I was a kid. I used to felt them as a part of myself in a way that I usually slept hugging them. I refused for a long time to read the last chapter of The Last Hero because that would be like throwing the last shovel of dirt in the grave of a childhood friend. Because that's what he's to me.

All these people are idiots, have menatl issues and need a hug. What else can I tell you? Probably before I see the last movie of Spiderverse, The Spot may be here too. But probably more related to The Warden than the others.

I guess you can learn more about what type of guy I am through these characters and my relationship with them. [Thx for reading]. (I'd love to learn about yours too).

(That's it baby! Front view picures! Everyone! Smile for the photo! [They're so done ahshahs])

[speechlesstalking]

this is something I wrote in 2019 that I've never shared but feels very profound right now.

I’m feeling like I want to do something stupid. I want to make a mistake on fucking purpose just to know that I can do it. that I can do something fucking stupid and come back from it. So I bought a pack of cigarettes. American Spirits because they’re supposed to be better for you, right? Because I’ve never smoked an entire cigarette before. I’ve never bought a pack of cigarettes before and I just fucking wanted to. Because I’m sad. Because I don’t see a happy ending for me. I see a lot of heartbreak and pain in my future and I can’t handle it. And because I wanted to feel closer to him. I wanted the smell and the taste to take me back to the times when he sat next to me and I could smell the smoke on him. I wanted to go back to the night of my 22nd birthday where we drank and drank and laughed and laughed. and smoked on the fire escape even though it was tiny and cold and he said my name like I was the best thing to happen to him.

So I bought a pack. I went home. I washed my face. I took a shower. and of fucking course I spilled my drink on my brand new white comforter. and I’m loading the washer at 11pm even though my body is telling me no, just fucking leave it for tomorrow. But I can’t. I loaded the washer and I went to smoke a cigarette on the patio while I listened to the nothingness of outside and the sound of the washer coming from inside. and fuck, of course I couldn’t even sit down because the patio chair cushions were soaking wet from rain that I don’t remember. so I’m pacing. And it takes two matches to light it because I forgot I don’t even have a lighter. but I lit it and it tasted good. a wave of relief went through my body. Like thank fucking god I can enjoy something at this moment. thank god I at least won’t regret the taste. And I coughed some. and I thought about only myself. like I was watching myself from outside of my body. I wanted it to remind me of you but I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about me and how I got to this point. “Every writer has to smoke right?” I thought.

And then I knew that I hadn’t hit rock bottom yet. Because then I wouldn’t wash my face or my comforter or the dishes. Cause what would be the point? Actually it’s not that I still did those things but that I felt like I HAD to. I had to so I don’t fall any farther down that I am at this moment. because if I do, that is when I should worry.

And now I’m thinking. Am I really this depressed because of a boy? Well, no. I’m this depressed because I feel like I have no fucking control over my life. I wanted to do this so I could control something. I know I did. Did it make me feel better? I guess it did a little bit.

My job is shit. My life is shit. My only friends are the one I’m in love with and the one I’m not in love with anymore. I can’t get a cat or a better job or even my own apartment. It fucking sucks and I think I need to feel that. Feel it hard because I’ve just been avoiding it.

And I promise myself, I will not get addicted to cigarettes.

I will not.

[rinitoshisworld]

Hii _(┐「ε:)_

Can i have a request with the obey me brothers? If yes then thankies UwU

So the demon brothers with a fem/mc that always place a kiss on their cheek when they are working or just minding their business and tell them that she love them (❁´ω`❁)

Like out of now were -chuu~- you get it right? :3

I always do that to my siblings and mother- i just cannot not to do it ⊂( *·ω· )⊃

Let’s go sweetheart 🥰

FEMALE MC WHO LOVES PLACING KISS ON THEIR CHEEK AND REMINDS THEM SHE LOVES THEM

Note of the author: Sweetheart that’s so cute omg 🥹 Just imagining them blushing because we kissed them/comforted them with hugs is just- ahhhh 😭❤️❤️❤️ AND ALSO I’M SORRY FOR THE FAULTS OR THE GRAMMATICAL MISTAKES/ERRORS ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE 😭

Format : Mini pov

Type: angst + comfort ❤️

Pronouns: She/her

MC/READER SKIN COLOR IS NOT MENTIONED

LUCIFER

He was in his room,like always,and started to feel an strange feeling,a feeling that started to grow up as he looked intensely at all the lines of dark inc he had been writing on the paper;he felt…unsatisfied by his own work,The Avatar of Pride himself feel unsatisfied by his own work…

He swore he never felt so down,he didn’t knew what to do or how to act…

But wait,what was this strange warmth on his cheek ? A tear ? No,it was you ! His adorable and caring girlfriend/wife.

Your gaze was connected with his and your comforting voice was like honey to his ears…

“Luci honey,don’t look so sad about your work,I know you can finish it in time and come sleep”

If he could die of happiness,he would.

MAMMON

Was he feeling bad ? Yes totally,but would he tell it to someone ? No never

This feeling consumed him like a fire and his thoughts were getting intoxicated by this unhealthy feeling…

He was alone in his room,hugging himself and trying to find comfort…but that was what he thought when he felt someone’s lips on his cheek;who was it ?

When the lips separated themselves from his wet cheek he saw his angel,you !

“M-Mc ?! What are ya doin’ in my room ?!” His action made you chuckles a bit and you said :

“Mammon…you know that I love from the bottom of my heart and when I see you,I feel so proud of being your girlfriend/wife.”

If he could die of happiness,he would.

LEVIATHAN

His heart pounds was so high…He just wanted to disappear forever…

Leviathan locked himself in his room for 2 days,2 days since this incident had started…his social anxiety was at it’s higher state and he couldn’t stop the tears from his orange eyes…

‘Why am I so weird ? Do MC really loves me ?’

Those intoxicated thoughts were back to haunt him again…he was so sad to notice the presence beside him

Until he felt arms snaking from behind around his torso;who it is ?

When he turned around he saw the most beautiful sight he ever saw…you,his lovely girlfriend/wife smiling at him !

Once again he didn’t noticed you had closed the space between the two of you and heard a ‘smouch’,did you just kissed him ? Him,the weird otaku ? Him,The Avatar of Envy ?

He couldn’t say anything due to the warmth feeling who take the place of this toxic feeling and those intoxicated thoughts…

If he could die of happiness,he would.

SATAN

Never in his miserable life Satan has been feeling in peace with himself…

How could he ? Him, The Avatar of Wrath,who was supposed to be angry with everyone and everything…

How could he be crying alone in his bed ? While trying to find comfort in that cold and lonely bed ?

But the thing that shocked him was this strange and warmth touch he felt from something…or…someone…?

When he looked down thinking it was a cat,he saw the light of his nightmares…,you ! His girlfriend/wife was hugging him !

For him your voice was the thing that could heal every wounds of those toxic feelings and thoughts…

“Satan love…you’re not alone in this fight,I’m here with you my love.You’re strong enough Satan,I know you are.”

If he could die of happiness,he would.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus…The Avatar of Lust…considered a beauty by every person who had looked at him…His beauty,himself,himself and himself were the only things Asmodeus was thinking about every hour of every day…

So why does it hurt to look at his reflection on his mirror ? Was he sick ? No. Was he sad ? No either…so,why could he see a tear coming from his eye and dropped on the back of his hand ?

He was heartbroken to see himself in such a terrible sight…

But…the broken pieces of his heart had been sticking in their first place…

Was it…a thumb ? Who was here with him ?

The response was rapidly here as he saw your beautiful figure approaching from behind him…his angel,his savior…he saw you ! His precious girlfriend/wife was comforting his poor self !

.

.

.

“Asmodeus darling why do you cry ? You don’t have to cry… I’m here my love…,I’m here…”

He swore you were the best thing that could happen to him…❤️

If he could die of happiness,he would.

BEELZEBUB

Again… this nightmare was back again…

He swore he could’ve feel those phrases running through his mind…

‘Why did you save Belphie ? It’s your fault if Lilith is dead ! You’re a monster ! How could you ?’

They were back…and all he could do was to blame himself again and again…

“No…! No I didn’t ! You’re lying ! I-I didn’t…I-I…am not a-a monster…”

Crying…he was crying…his eyes were so wet and his cheeks too…

Until he felt a warmth touch across his cheek;what was it ?

He opened his purple eyes and saw an another person lying in his bed…it wasn’t Belphie because he was in the attic,no…it was you ! His favorite person ! His girlfriend/wife.

“Hey Beelzebub,don’t cry honey…Come closer so we can cuddle love ❤️”

You were his everything…and if he could die of happiness,he would.

BELPHEGOR

Why his cheeks were so wet ?

He didn’t knew…And why is he shivering ?

But he knew that someone was kissing his cheek;but who ?

He felt a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and two hands were snaking from behind around his torso…

“Let’s cuddle baby…and please don’t cry,you don’t have to cry…”

“Do you know how proud am I of you Belphie ?”

Those words were so sweet and soft…

How could you be so sweet…you,his girlfriend/wife…

He swore that if he could die of happiness,he would…

REQUESTED BY : @yukievii

[meetmymouth]

out in the heartland : harry styles

summary: it’s harry’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him word count: 6k warnings: daddy kink, pegging, anal fingering & rimming

“Love, can you get us more crisps,” Harry calls from where he’s seated on the floor, a Playstation console in hand.

It’s another lockdown Monday where they turn Mitch and Sarah’s spacious living room into a gaming room slash studio– according to Mitch, bowls of crisps, cheese platters, wine glasses and other snacks decorating every surface as they play anything and everything from FIFA to Fortnite until their brains are too foggy and they can’t move their fingers properly due to alcohol in their systems.

Sarah and Mitch were kind enough to let them both quarantine at theirs for a while, and it’d been so much fun, spending time with Mitch and Sarah, cooking together, watching films and going on walks, and overall having a great time with their friends. As much as it was just another Monday in lockdown, it was a special one with today being Harry’s 27th. They’ve already cut his cake, one she’d made herself -and Sarah helping with the piping– decorated with maraschino cherries and sprinkles, and they’ve been spending the night drinking posh wine and screaming at each other while Harry and Mitch played FIFA.

With two bowls filled with more crisps, she makes her way back to the living room with a smile on her face as Mitch and Harry keep going on and on about the game, and Sarah teasing them both, asking whether they’d get a divorce soon since they’ve been arguing back and forth like an old, married couple.

They pause the game as Mitch says her name, “did you see the card Jeff sent Harry for his birthday?” He’s smirking as he takes another sip of his wine, and Harry throws a piece of cheese at him, earning a glare from the long-haired man.

“Not yet, what is it?”

“Jeff being a dickhead as per. He sent me a card, it’s between my book, there,” he gestures at his book on the sofa with his head.

She grabs the thick book, turns the pages until she finds the card with ease, and she feels her heart drop for some reason, eyebrows furrowing and palms starting to sweat as she turns to Harry. He’s watching her with a grin on his face, the others already laughing at what’s in front of the card as she takes it in her hands to inspect the shiny birthday card.

“’Happy pegging birthday’” she reads out loud with a monotonous voice. “Uh… okay. That’s– very funny.”

“He’s just being stupid,” Harry laughs, running a finger thorugh his hair. He sits up, mouth full of crisps, and extends his hand for her to hold. “Come here, let me feed you cheese.”

“Okay… uh, nice card.”

“I mean, I love you, Sarah, but–” Mitch starts, mouth full, and Sarah cuts him off with a glare.

“Do not finish that sentence,” she points the wine glass at him as the sounds of cackling follow behind.

They all laugh… except her.

It’s funny. It is. And she loves them, loves laughing with them. But now, with the card Harry labelled as ‘stupid’ in hand and a fancy, pink box with Harry’s name on it waiting for them, waiting for him upstairs, on the bed they’d been sharing since the beginning of lockdown, she can’t help but feel stupid, too.

Was that a bold move? Was she being too brave, or… stupid? Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but let a pang of shame and sadness engulf her for a moment, before Harry’s silky voice pulls her away from her thoughts. She accepts the hand extended and sits next to him on the floor, card now forgotten on the sofa, and she tries to occupy both her mind and hands with Sarah’s fluffy cat, giving his little head tiny pets as Harry rubs her back as if it would get rid of the tension she was feeling.  

“You okay,” he brings his mouth close to her gear and whispers, then presses the gentlest, softest kiss on her ear. “D’you need anything?”

“I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, H.”

It’s not until 2AM that everyone decides to go up to their rooms, not even batting an eye at the mess they made as they make their way upstairs with promises to clean everything in the morning. Now that she knows the box is there, on the bed where Harry can easily detect as soon as they open the door, her stomach begins growling but not because she’s hungry, but because she’s feeling anxious, and ashamed.

She has to do something.

“Hey, um…” she begins, stopping them both in front of the guest room they’d been occupying. “Could you– could you bring me water, I forgot to take my meds today.”

“Baby…” Harry says, hand going up to her cheeks to stroke there for a moment. “I thought you had an alarm… I filled your water bottle this morning and put it on the bedside table, come on.”

“No– Harry…”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I am, I just want fresh water.”

“Are you– are you serious?”

“Yes,” it comes out as a question rather than an answer and she bites her bottom lip, feeling uneasy under Harry’s curious gaze.

“You’re being kinda weird.”

“I’m not being weird!”

“Is there something you’re hiding from me?” He says with eyebrows furrowed and hand on his hip. “In the bedroom, in particular?”

“Don’t be silly.”

And as soon as he turns away, she knows she’s done for. It’s too late. She’s fucked. Everything’s fucked, she thinks, and he will hate her. Will never want to see her face again and probably ask her to leave as soon as possible since he won’t be able to look at her ever again without being reminded of her disgusting “gift”.

He goes in, of course he does, and she can’t help but close her eyes for a few moments before she joins him, hands sweaty and heart beating like there’s no tomorrow. She finds him near the bed, eyes focused on the box sitting in the middle of the bed, and she looks up when he does, finding him giving her a bright, heart-clenching smile as the dimple gets wider.

“Well, what’s this then, bab?”

His socked-feet makes a comforting noise on the carpeted floor, and he stops when he reaches where she’s standing, hands immediately finding her hips to bring them closer.

“Harry, please don’t open it,” it’s pathetic, she thinks, how desperate and anxious she sounds. Though, she can’t help but close her eyes when Harry’s hand finds the back of her neck as he strokes there with his thumb. “Don’t open it. It’s just silly. It’s a joke.”

“Baby, breathe. What are you even talking about, hm? Why are you– oh my god, darling, you look like you’re having a panic attack. You’re sweating, are you…” he squeezes her flesh gently, then guides her to the bed. “Hey, look at me– look. I’m not going to open it unless you want me to. Do you really not know me? I would never do anything you don’t want me to. Who do you take me for, hm?” It’s so gentle, his voice, it’s like honey is dripping down his mouth and she can’t help but watch the way his pink lips move. “Baby. Look at me. I love you. You’re so special to me, you’re my whole world. I won’t open it– I won’t, I promise. C’mere, babs.”

“I love you too,” she sniffs once, twice, then rubs her eyes.

“Wanna go to sleep... hm? Come on, bab, let’s go to sleep.”

Nights chase each other away, Tuesday kisses Wednesday and Thursday is spent with laughter and too much smoke and Friday finally arrives and it’s like a breath of fresh air, but she also thinks it’s due to the open windows and fresh flowers in the spacious kitchen. The box, containing the cursed gift of hers is forgotten, placed under their bed besides their suitcases, and everything feels normal. Almost too normal. So, she does what most people would do: look for ‘trouble’.

When Harry’s in the shower, she gets the box out and sits on the bed as she thinks about what to do with it. But, apparently, the stillness of the room was too good to be true as Harry emerges from the ensuite, hair still dripping-wet as he adjusts the robe, eyes immediately finding what she’s got in front of her, and the box that is now open, and a black leather piece hanging from the not-so-tall box.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he’s testing the waters, she knows. His eyebrows are furrowed, only slightly, and mouth slightly parted. “What are you doing, darling?”

It’s not a threat, nor asked with the intention of intimidating her. Alas, she feels threatened.

“I…”

“What is it?”

She sighs, feeling the cold sweat dripping down her back, and finally gives up. “See for yourself,” the box is thrust into his hands, and she leaves the room, leaving behind a confused, semi-naked man and a very expensive looking strap-on.

It’s not another fifteen minutes until Harry comes downstairs dressed in only a pair of joggers, and finds her on the sofa as she chews on her thumb –a bad habit really– while reading one of Harry’s books. He walks up to her with a tiny smile on his face, and curls into her side, resting his head in the crook of her neck as he breathes in the sweet smell and the now all too familiar fabric softener.

He waits for her to speak first, not wanting to upset her further, but all she does is sit there, and pretend to read until Harry lets out a sigh, and presses a brief, gentle kiss to her jaw.

“Can we talk?” He says, hands now resting on her thigh as his thumb strokes the skin there.

She sighs too, and fidgets under his gaze. “Not really.”

“Why not, though? We’ve been together for years. Why are you so scared of me, hm? Have I ever done something to make you feel like you can’t be honest with me?”

“No, it’s just embarrassing to me, Harry. And… seeing that card. And you calling it… stupid. I just feel like an idiot, please stop.”

Harry sighs, his breath hitting the side of her face. “Look at me. Look–” he reaches and touches her jaw. “I love you. I’m madly in love with you. The kind that keeps me up at night. The kind that makes my heart hurt in the best possible way. I’m so gone, baby, so fucking gone for you. You got me. I can’t leave, now, I’d never want to,” he presses his forehead to the side of her jaw, the damp skin feeling cold against her flesh. “Jeff on the other hand… can we not talk about him when I have these– these images in my head. Of you. Wearing that.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to feel bad but too bad, I feel like shite and am so fucking embarassed, you don’t get it.”

“I do, I fucking do and I’m trying to tell you how much I’d love it if you fucked me in the ass. Now, you either come upstairs and finish what you started, or–”

They’re both startled when Mitch enters the living room and drops the book in his hand.

He looks up at them, clearly not phased, and they both notice the AirPods in his ears as he kneels down and grabs his book, giving them one last look before disappearing outside to join Sarah in the garden. Harry though, he lets out a chuckle and turns to her, dimple tugging at his cheek, and extends his arm to caress her cheek.

“Come upstairs, baby.”

He says it easily, words rolling off his tongue, just like that, and she does. Of course she does because what else was she to do? She lets him take her hand in his, interlocking their fingers as he guides them up the stairs. Once inside the room, the door is closed, locked, and Harry takes the time to walk towards the window to close the curtain, and she can’t help but stare at his long, beautiful fingers over the soft cotton. Other than the thick, silver band on his middle finger, his fingers are ring-free, and despite adoring his soft, pretty fingers with his equally pretty rings, there’s just something so soft, cosy and familiar about Harry without rings.

He catches her staring because, of course he does. He sees her. Every movement of her eyes, trembling lips, shaky fingers, scrunch of her nose; he sees it all. And now, he walks towards her, a big grin tugging at his lips as he stops right in front of her, both of them aware of the box sitting on the bed but neither of them say anything as they hold each other’s gaze.

And just like that, she feels like she can finally breathe properly when she’s being pulled into his chest, hands finding their place on each side of her head as he starts peppering kisses to her face, first her forehead, then nose, and at last, his plump lips find their way to the place they know by heart, her lips.

It’s not rushed, not at all, Harry thinks they have all the time in the world so he takes his time with her. He knows it’s impossible, foolish even, but he swears he can see the marks his tiny but lustful kisses are leaving behind when he briefly opens his eyes. They’re everywhere on her beautiful face, from her lips to the corner of her mouth, chin, the side of her jaw.

“How do you want me,” he mumbles and it’s an uttered promise, somehow submissive though not completely, but also one that is full of love, trust.

She freezes for a moment, hands still on his neck, holding each other’s gaze and she watches as Harry walks to the bed, and he grabs the box. The shape of the object in his hands feels unfamiliar to the eye, the dazzling, hot pink dildo at the front makes them both swallow in anticipation and she knows Harry is clueless about what his next move should be.

It certainly wasn’t their first time trying out things in the bedroom. They were both ‘kinky’, as some would call it, they liked rough sex, the kind that left bruises and marks behind, but never anything like this. Sure, she did give him a rim job a few times, his darker, puckered hole made her mouth water and she wanted nothing more than to get on her knees and kiss and lick the flesh until Harry was a mess, coming in long spurts. He loved having his ass licked, he loved sitting on her face, with his big cock stuffing her warm, tiny mouth as he forced her to take everything in, moving his ass back and forth across her mouth as she tried to lick every inch of the bitter flesh, wanting to please him, make him fall apart above her.

But, despite Harry letting her lick his ass could be considered as a vulnerability or submission to some, she was always his submissive. She loved it; they both loved it. She also knew today wasn’t the day she would give up on that submission. No, today was all about Harry, and what he wanted, how he wanted it, and it was about her giving it to him. So she gives him a tiny smile, hands reaching to grab the strap-on from his hands, and he watches with great intent, pupils dilated and mouth parted.

She swallows, and looks up at him with apprehension. “I want you to use me,” she lets out, a shaky breath following behind. “I want you to… I want you to do whatever you want with me. I know this,” her gaze falls to the pink dildo surrounded by black leather of the harness. “It’s something we haven’t done before, at least… fully–”

Harry giggles, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. “Fully.”

“Shh. I’m just saying that… we haven’t done this before but I still want you to be in charge, at least… at least–”

“You want me to be the Daddy, hm? You still want Daddy to tell you what to do, how to fuck him? Y’gonna be my little fuck toy? Is that what you want, darling?”

“Yes,” her breath hitches at her throat. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. You’re so good to Daddy, darling. Always spoiling me, always looking after me, taking care of Daddy… how’d I get so lucky?”

“Daddy deserves it,” she looks up, waiting for his command to get naked and she can see it in his eyes, the hesitant gaze as if he wants to make sure she’s okay still even though he’s the one who’s about to get fucked.

“Go on then,” he mutters, hands going to his own joggers as he lets them pool around his ankles. He reaches up, brushing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “Get naked for Daddy and put it on.”

And she does, oh, she does.

It doesn’t take long, considering she only has a ratty t-shirt on and a pair of joggers, and nothing underneath. It doesn’t come as a surprise to him, her forgoing underwear, but they both can’t help but hold each other’s gaze a minute longer. She notices the fiery look in his eyes, pupils now looking like a pair of black buttons as his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth.

She lets her eyes wander, gaze travelling from each puffy nipple that are now beginning to harden, to the hair on his chest, then the hair that’s following his happy trail, all the way down to his cock. She feels her heart clench in lust at the sight of his hard cock, slightly curved with a vein following underneath, and she just wants to get down on her knees and put it in her mouth. She remembers him asking her whether to shave or not a couple of weeks ago, and the thick pubic hair surrounding his perfect cock makes her mouth water, feeling content that she’d told him not to touch any razors.

She looks up at him again, to see the expression on his face and he smiles, hand reaching for her.

“Come.”

She walks towards him, the strap-on in hand, and a tiny whimper leaves her mouth when her hand finds her boob, long fingers trapping her pebbled nipple between them as he twists the darker nub, once, twice, and he lets it go only to slap it, causing her to gasp as she quickly tries to suppress the noise with her palm pressing against her mouth. It stings, but doesn’t hurt. Not at all. In fact, it frustrates her despite the tingling, stinging feeling between her legs. She needs more. She wants more.

“Get this on and get on your knees,” he mutters, hand now on her neck as he squeezes briefly, watching as she gets the strap-on on and tightens the straps. “You’re gonna get Daddy’s cock nice and wet before you can fuck his ass. Understand?”

She pairs her quiet ‘yes’ with a nod, mind too hazy to actually look into Harry’s eyes as her shaky fingers fiddle with the harness. The clasps make a clicking sound, very satisfying to their ears, and she swallows, getting on her knees in front of him. Clean, soapy smell of his skin chafes the tip of her nose very gently and Harry begins playing with her hair, hands stroking the side of her face before one finds the back of her neck, bringing her towards his hard cock.

“Take it in your mouth,” his thumb presses hard on her bottom lip, as if to remind her who’s in control despite the foreign object she’s been supporting.

Her gaze wanders, taking in his thick, leaking cock, and with one hand steady on his meaty thigh, she brings the other to his balls, humming when she feels them tight already. The wrinkly skin of it is soft and not at all unfamiliar to her. So, she leans in to press a flat tongue against his balls, not missing the way Harry’s thighs jerk in response, and she then takes them into her mouth. She hums at the feeling in her mouth as she alternates between sucking and licking them and Harry lets out a quivering sigh above her, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of her mouth around him.

He lets out a his when her teeth grazes over the area lightly. “Fuck, babe. You like my balls?”

Of course, there’s no time to respond, nor the possibility of her forming coherent words since he’s literally balls deep in her mouth, so she proceeds to hum around him, a few hairs there tickling her nose and lips as she sucks. With a pop, she lets them go and darts out her tongue again, travelling the warm, wet muscle from underneath his cock, to the tip. It’s a deep, pink colour, shiny and smooth, so she can’t help but wrap her mouth around the tip, earning a quick jolt of his hips from Harry as the action takes him by surprise.

She looks up, and sucks the tip as if it’s an ice lolly, and the salty taste of his pre-cum fills the insides of her mouth, fingernails pressing harder into his meaty thighs, and she wishes she could see the mark her nails left behind on his tiger tattoo.

Series of ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s leave his mouth as he guides her head down his cock, and as always, she obeys while taking him deeper and deeper, her warm saliva coating his thickness and she moans around his warm cock as she brings her hands to his ass. While still sucking, she squeezes there, fingernails digging into the perfect skin of his ass and he lets out a hiss first, then pulls her hair harshly before pressing her face down his cock, a shaky moan following as she takes him deeper, her throat welcoming the warmth and thickness of his cock like it always does.

“You’re such a cock slut for me, aren’t you? Can’t keep that mouth away from Daddy,” he pulls her away from his cock, hands immediately going to her mouth to smear the pre-cum and spit all over her mouth and chin. "You wanted to treat Daddy for his birthday, hm?”

“Yes.”

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Always spoiling me, making me feel so, so fucking good,” he squeezes one of her boobs, twisting the nipple between his fingers before his gaze falls to the strap-on and the dildo secured tightly to the harness. He gets on his knees. “Make me suck that cock.”

The words, they just sound so hot, so filthy coming out of his mouth, making her weak in the knees as she swallows, and she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing there once before it travels to the back of his head. She feels in control, having him on his knees, at her command even though he’s still somehow in charge, and it drives her crazy, having this gorgeous man all to herself. 

She watches him as Harry’s curious gaze takes the pink dildo in. She knew it wasn’t his first time sucking a cock, despite the one now in his face being silicone. So when he goes in easily with her hands pulling him closer, she can’t help but whine at the expression on his face, eyes glittering and plump lips parted as he takes the cock into his mouth.

He coats the pink silicone with his saliva, eyes shut as if he’s trying to concentrate on an important task, pink lips looking like they belong there, around a cock. They look so sinful, yet so perfect as he bobs his head up and down, talking the cock further into his mouth and she tries to guide him but she knows he doesn’t need it. He knows what he’s doing.

“You look so hot,” she manages to let out, words coming out as a hum, low and quiet, and he opens his eyes, eyelashes fluttering at the whispered compliment. “You look so good, Harry.”

He takes it out of his mouth briefly, a string of saliva making a bridge between his bottom lip and the dildo, and she reaches there, smearing it all over his bottom lip just like he did to her earlier as she loved seeing him dirty.

His pink tongue darts out and he wraps his lips around the finger on his bottom lip. “Gonna get me wet now?” He hums around her finger and she feels her pussy clench around nothing.

“Get on the bed.”

As Harry gets on all fours, ass in the air, her eyes wander to their lube on the nightstand. Ignoring the heat in her stomach, she sits on her knees behind Harry and touches his ass, fingers caressing the soft skin, touching the tiny mole there before she leans forward and presses a kiss there. It’s a peck, a sweet kiss that turns into more as her mouth opens, tongue flat against the warm skin as she sucks the flesh, causing him to let out a happy grunt.

He whispers her name, the excitement making her nipples tighten once again, but she moves her lips towards the crack, not wanting to stop.

“That’s it,” Harry groans, “Get Daddy wet before you put that cock in him.”

It’s a godly sight. Him on all fours, at her mercy, it was exquisite, intense, dirty. But she wanted to get him dirtier. With her hand parting one cheek, she bites her lip, noticing his rim, puckered and surrounded by little hairs, and all of a sudden, she can’t wait to get her mouth on him, to see the hairs get darker with her spit as he squirms under her touch.

She gets closer, a grin appearing on her face when he lets out quiet whines and whimpers, and she exhales a sigh into Harry’s milky flesh. Her tongue, hungry and hot, darts out to lick his rim briefly, just to get him wet before she uses her fingers. His cock, now a deeper shade of pink, hard and thick, is peeking between his legs, moving left and right from time to time whenever Harry or she moves, and she can’t help but reach there.

Harry sucks in a breath as her warm hand meets his hard cock, and she lets out a moan when she feels the thickness of it in her palm. It’s hot, so fucking hot, and the smooth skin of his cock is still damp, so she brings her thumb to his tip and smears the leaking pre-cum all over it, then drags her finger down to his balls and squeezes once.

His perfect mouth lets out a pained whimper when she lets go and focuses on the beautiful rim in front of her. She leans forward, both hands now parting his cheeks, and spits on his rim before flattening her tongue and lapping across Harry’s puckered hole. It’s not sweet, far from it actually, but the salty, bitter taste makes her even wetter as she keeps licking and sucking around his hole, satisfied when she hears him whimper and moan. Once it’s wet and the hairs around his rim get darker, she pulls away and licks a finger into her mouth, then grabs the lube from the bedside table and places it somewhere by Harry’s feet.

It’s fire, when she presses her middle finger into his hole, and Harry lets out a groan, her finger sliding in with ease with the help of her spit. “So tight,” she mumbles when Harry pushes his ass backwards only a little bit to match the tiny movements of her finger.

“Move faster,” Harry says, voice low. “Add another one.”

The lube is now in her hand as she brings it to where her finger is, takes it out, and allows a generous amount to coat the puckered area where her finger has been. Harry groans at the feeling, hole clenching around nothing, and she rubs the area with the same finger she’s been using, and presses it in before taking it out. This time, her middle finger is joined by her index as she fucks into his ass slowly, taking her sweet time while admiring the way he’s been taking her fingers. The skin makes wet noises, and she knows if they weren’t so worked up, they would have a giggle about it, just like they often do whenever one of them makes a questionable noise while having sex.

This time, though, the sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of his ass makes her go crazy, and she knows Harry feels the same when he lets out a loud grunt, pushing his ass back in sharp movements, in hopes of getting her to fuck him harder and deeper.

It goes on like that for a while, and they stop when he’s opened up enough, Harry’s rim now looking sore and pink. Once the dildo at her front is lubed up generously, she taps his ass once, making him turn his head back to look at her, eyebrows furrowed in question and mouth still parted due to the tingling feeling at the tip of his cock.

“Go ahead, baby,” he murmurs, gaze lowering. “Fuck Daddy’s ass. I’m ready,” his voice, hoarse and low, rings in her ears as she lifts the dildo up to his ass, his now-pink hole.

One hand holding the pink dildo from the base and the other resting on Harry’s back, she starts pushing it in, whines and hisses leaving his throat as soon as he feels the silicone tip. She watches as the tip digs into his ass, slowly and with effort despite all the lube, and she can’t help but bring her other hand to her boobs, squeezing once before she places it back on Harry’s ass. He’s a mess, sweat dripping down his back, and she knows he’s trying to keep quiet as neither of them would want to get caught by the other couple despite having the door locked.

“Fuck,” he grunts, head lowering.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” he whimpers, ass trying to clench around the dildo but it fails due to how big it is. “Keep going, I want you to fuck me. Hard.”

She holds him by his love handles, fingernails digging into his milky, smooth skin as she moves her hips, the dildo now halfway in. With Harry moaning, she takes her time to admire how fucking hot he looks underneath her, with his ass filled with the pink dildo, and she sighs, continuing to fuck into his ass with the shiny dildo. It’s incredible how well he’s taking it, taking her, his puckered hole now a sore-pink, wet, and she feels like crying, not knowing how to handle what’s going on. She loves him. She loves him so fucking much, and she knows he does, too. She feels overwhelmed with love and hunger as she speeds up her hips, the dildo now fully inside him as she fucks his ass.

He gasps and jolts when the dildo presses right up to his prostate. “Fuckin’ hell. Please keep going, fuck Daddy hard. Fuck me, baby– god, I’m gonna cum soon. Keep going, keep fucking me,” he rasps.

“You’re taking it so well. You look so fucking good.”

“Oh fuck– it feels so good. Fuck me harder, come on, fuck me.”

Feeling brave, she presses her fingernails into his ass cheek, then lifts her hand, a loud smack landing on his left cheek and Harry hisses, fingers curling into the sheets as he lets out whimper after whimper. She watches as the dildo disappears into Harry’s ass, the pink mark on his ass becoming redder and angrier by the second and she decides to press her front against his back, laying down on him as she fucks into him deeper, nipples getting ridiculously hard as soon as they make contact with Harry’s sweaty back.

She finds it easier to fuck him in this position, and she likes that they’re much closer now, mouths searching for each other as he reaches behind and grabs her ass, squeezing hard as she keeps thrusting hard and deep. With kisses placed against his sweaty neck, Harry tries to turn his head to where hers is, and they meet in a rushed, teeth-clashing kiss, Harry’s tongue darting out to lick into her mouth, but missing in the end, and licking the corner of her mouth instead as she lets out a whine, hand searching for his cock that’s now trapped between his body and the sheets.

He helps her, lifts up his lower body and she starts moving her hand up and down on his hard cock, head resting on the crook of his neck as her hips move lazily. He’s so hard, and she knows he’s close by the sounds he’s making, his hips jerking forward from time to time as little ‘uh’s leave his mouth, and she wants to help him. She wants him to cum so bad. She wants to be the one making him cum so fucking hard.

“Are you gonna cum,” she whispers into his neck. “Please, baby. Cum for me. Show me how much you liked getting fucked.”

“God,” with cock still in her palm, he tries thrusting his hips forward to meet the strokes of her hand. “Please– I’m g’na cum so fuckin’ hard. You’re so fucking hot, so fucking good to me. Oh my god, baby, it hurts.”

“Yeah? It hurts?” She squeezes the base of his cock, then touches his balls briefly before continuing her strokes. “You’re taking it so well. Come on, Daddy. I need you to cum.”

“God, I’m– oh fuck. I’m gonna… Make me cum. Come on, make Daddy cum.” 

She squeezes his cock once again, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight to his cock. When he lets out a choked breath, she knows he’s coming. It’s hot, sticky, and so fucking dirty, the cum coating her palm, creating more lubrication as she keeps stroking him lazily, dildo still filling up his ass, and with a groan, Harry reaches behind to smack her ass.

They stay like that for a while, with her still inside him as he tries to catch his breath, and she proceeds to match their breaths to the clock on the wall, feeling completely spent but still frustrated since the pool of wetness between her folds seems to be intensifying every passing moment.

After a while, Harry clears his throat. “Are you a dream?” It’s soft, only a whisper, and sickeningly sweet.

“Hm?”

“You’re a dream. You’re unbelievable– I love love love you,” he sighs, voice breaking. It takes him a few seconds to complete his sentence.

“No, thank you. I hope… I hope you liked it?”

“Fucking loved it. What about you?”

“I did. You did so good,” she touches his sweaty hair. “But,” she starts, legs starting to feel sore. “I’m still so fucking wet.”

“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry, sweet girl–” Harry reaches behind and strokes her hip. “Can I fuck you now?”

“Yes, please.”

The strap-on now on the floor, Harry takes his time to admire her soft features, the sweat on her forehead and messy strands of hair sticking to her face. She rubs her eyes, and lets out a yawn, but her other hand reaches blindly for Harry, and he smiles, the gesture leaving his chest, his heart heavy and hot and full of love. He lets her hold on to him as she keeps rubbing her eyes, then he links their fingers as she opens her eyes to find him staring.

She gives him a lazy smile. “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“All right, Shakespeare… mhm, come here,” she pulls him closer by his love handles. “I love you. Happy birthday. Again.”

“I love you so much. How is it possible to want you this much, hm?” He mumbles against her sweaty neck, not caring about the bitter taste of her skin. He watches as her smile widens, eyes tired and sleepy. “There’s a halo in your mouth.”

pls reblog if you enjoyed it! it only takes a second but it helps me tons <3 inbox is always open for your feedback!!!!! <3 lu

[sagendipity]

reminder i'm sage i used to be notplanningshit until i accidentally deleted my blog so now im reposting my works!

info: quackity x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings

on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection

Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.

You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.

These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”

You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.

It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.

You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.

Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.

You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.

That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.

“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”

He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”

“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”

He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.

“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”

“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”

He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.

His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.

Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.

Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.

“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”

Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.

“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”

A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of you’s fingers together.

He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”

“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.

“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”

You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.

“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off-.”

With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”

“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise! 

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.  MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai:  MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something:  MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult. 

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest.  (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

[a-cupof-jo]

If You Could See What I See

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

wc: .9k

genre: comfort, fluff

warning(s): food, alcohol

prompt:  Fluff and 18 “I didn’t get soaking wet walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

“You don’t have to create it. I am just happy with you around. You are my sun shower and rainbows.”

~~

Drapes snapped as the wind blew harder through open windows. Water pooled on the sill and dripped down to run across the floor. The only sound to be heard was the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the roof.

The gentle reminder to close the windows never held much weight. Rooms always needed the exposure to sun showers. The cool breeze that lifted papers from the desktop and the warm sunlight the cat laid under made even the most inconvenient of sun showers a treat. 

A dreamy sigh floated around the room as rain splashed through the screen and smattered across every object in a two foot radius. Warmth spread through the room filling the area with a calming presence. Eyes fluttered shut and muscles relaxed with sleep's welcome. 

An unheard knock tapped instantly on the front door. Without care, the windows followed the wind and swung open a shut a few more times.

Knuckles rasped against the door again. The blue haired boy huffed as he stood waiting to be let in, "Y/n, let me in," he spoke in an exasperated yet sing-songy voice. "Look, I didn’t get soaking wet walking to your house for you to say no to pizza." He waited a second listening for the sound of feet pattering across the floor. A grumble left his lips as a moment passed and only the sound of slamming windows was heard, "I have beer too." The plastic bag in his hand crunched as he shook it. "Y/n? I know you’re sad, so let me in.” His voice came out soft this time, pleading with the home's owner. 

He gave one more light knock before reaching into his pocket and fishing out his key ring. There were only 4 things on the key ring but the shiny metal was bent and loose from the struggle he had faced to put the most recent key on. The house key was gold in color but smelled like brass. He balanced the pizza and beer in his left hand as he jiggled the doorknob with his other. "Remind me to change that knob." He called out as the door finally swung open. A glance around the room told him that the person he was looking for wasn't roaming the house. His feet led him up the stairs to the room where the sound of wood pieces slapped against each other echoed. 

The door swung open with ease. It had always been his favorite room in the house. Bright walls and high ceilings made any visitor welcome and comforted all inhabitants. He looked over to the window doors that swung open hitting the walls again. The evening sun shown through the window and a little rainbow danced around the floor covering the body that laid underneath the sill. He watched for a moment as the person's steady breath and little sighs filled the room.

He set the pizza box and bag on the desk before resting by the window. He reached out a hand, letting his fingers comb through wet, tangled hair. “Y/n,” he waited as eyes fluttered open and took him in. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Mark,” he stopped the hand that came up to rub at tired eyes. “What are you doing here? Why are you all wet?”

“I brought pizza and beer,” Mark motioned to the small desk. He caught the window door as it swung at his head. The rain had lightened up and now only sprinkles hit the window screen. Leather straps hung from the wall and he used it to tie the door in place, “I knew that today is,” he trailed off as a warm body pressed into his side. 

Soft, kind eyes looked into his. Tears pressed at the rim, but didn’t break. “It’s been two years.” A faraway look entered the gleaming eyes, “Before then, I never thought I would have been living in this house again. I never thought I would be this close to you again. Never thought that I would never see them again.” Mark reached up to wipe away the tear that slipped down a splotchy cheek. 

“I know,” he wrapped his arm around bare shoulders. The damp hair tickled his arm as the body pressed further into him. 

“I was happy today, at least for a little bit,” a hand came up to play with his. “The sun shower and a rainbow. She would have loved it, and he would have loved seeing her happy.”

Mark tilted his head and kissed at the forehead pressed into his shoulder, “I am sure they are happy that you are finding joy in this day.

A hmm filled the air between them, “I’m starting too.”

“Good,” Mark reached up and gripped the pizza box bringing it down to his lap. The beer cans sat on his empty side. “But if you can’t find happiness on this day, that’s okay. I’ll spend the rest of my days creating happiness for you.” 

Hair tickled his nose as the head shook, “You don’t have to create it. I am just happy with you around. You are my sun shower and rainbows.” 

“You are my source of happiness,”  Mark smiled as lips tilted up and captured his. It will take more time, but the sky is opening and rain is slowing. In the end, they will both be alright.

~~

tag list: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

[witch-hazels-musings]

is this all i have?

^ hey all, a little different fic I have for you today.

If you decide to read it, it’ll give you some insight into why I haven’t been posting a lot ... it says more than I probably would normally share about my struggles but @genshin-karebear encouraged me to be honest and, so, here I am. (thank you, friend)

Warnings -> negative self-talk, comfort, one curse word 

I sat at my desk, head in my hands and tears on the verge of spilling over the edges of my eyes. For days I’d been struggling, frantically, painfully trying to get back into the swing of things with nothing to show for it other than tear stained clothes and empty pieces of paper.

Where did it all go? Where was the spark that used to ignite in my heart when I sat down to write the words which once came so easy? Am I spent, have I used up all that skill in a matter of months … what’s wrong with me.

A single tear cascaded down my cheek as I stared at the massive nothingness that lay before me. The taunting paper which looked back at like a score card of failures after failures, as if to remind me that I will never be a person worthy of it’s time. I rubbed my eyes, pushing my glasses over my brow and feeling the hot liquid which rested in them, this would be the tenth time I’ve done this today.

“I’m just spent and I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore.” My lip quivered, my cheeks became wet, my eyes blurry. “I’m a failure.” I whispered to myself shaking my head and holding onto the last ounce of energy I could muster - it didn’t matter that the sun was warm and shined through my window, there was nothing strong enough to push through my veil of despair.

I looked out the window and saw the world move on around me; it never waits, while it pushes on I’m left behind. The trees continue to spread out their leaves in an attempt to soak up the necessary nutrients they need to survive, seeds float on the wind looking for a place to rest, bugs move from place to place at random, the cat lounges on the chair lost in its dreams as its fur is warmed by the sun I cannot seem to feel. I’m jealous of that cat.

I contemplate getting up and doing something different, but there is a voice inside of me that tells me to push through, to keep going and write something - put anything down on this piece of paper. Fuck you, paper … you are nothing to me and yet you have total control over my pen. I’m angry and frustrated at an inanimate object when I should really be mad at myself. It’s my fault I cannot get anything out --- I’m broken, that must be the only answer.

The tears have all fallen, water droplets speckle the parchment and my eyes look onward without any ounce of life left. I feel empty and hollow, I have no more energy for it all and so I lay down the pen, drop my head to the table and close my eyes.

I don’t know how long I sit like this, time has been moving so slowly for me as of late that this feels like nothing new. I don’t even hear the sound of the door opening, or footsteps headed my way. In fact, I barely register there is another presence in the room until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Hazel?” I stir, but only enough to turn my head onto its side and glance at the person who called me by name, a name I didn’t feel I had the right to claim. I looked up and felt my stomach drop, of course it would be him … the one person who I continued to fail over and over again. “Are you okay?”

I bit the inside of my lip, desperate to keep my emotions in check. I hated looking weak, and complaining about my frustrations only made me feel worse. These worries and inadequacies are my own issues to deal with, there was no need to drag others down into my sorrow, so I changed the subject.

“You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be.” I leaned up from the desk and turned myself to face him. Instinctually, I placed my hand on the blank paper, an attempt to hide my shame.

“Yes, there wasn’t much for me to do, it seemed everyone had it under control and I didn’t see a need to stick around.” He placed a few items down on the table in the study. It was some of the only sounds which broke the monotony of my day. “… did I disturb your work?”

“No, I only just started.” I lied, grinning to add another layer to my coverup.

“Oh, normally you get started much earlier than this …” His observation was accurate, even if it stung a little. He was right after all, I’d been sitting at this desk since we parted ways earlier in the morning … I felt chained to it, obligated to do something worthwhile at this god forsaken wooden nightmare.

“Normally, yes. I just, uh, had some things to get done before this …”

“Well I’m sure you are eager to get started, I’ll leave you to it.” He looked down at me kindly, and I yearned to have more than just his words and kind eyes at the moment, but I knew it wouldn’t be possible to ask that of him.

“Sounds good, I’ve got a lot of ideas and think I can get some good stuff done today.” Another lie.

“I believe you will.” He looked at me and my brain screamed. It battled between the side of reaching for him and letting him go. As busy as he was, he didn’t need to be bothered by my struggles. So, in an effort to keep them under control I pushed my knuckles to the small space between my chin and lips, the nail of my index finger digging into the corner of my mouth for extra sensory support. I smiled weakly at him and watched as he made his way through the threshold, disappearing beyond my line of sight. When the door closed I stood from my chair and walked to the window, my hand extended to capture the rays of the sun which normally brought me comfort, but today only illuminated my skin.

The emotions bubbled up in my chest and, like a sad child who didn’t get what they wanted, I removed my glasses, dropped my head into my hand and cried. Soft, quiet sobs spilled from my mouth while my eyes remained shielded by the darkness of my hand. Something caught my attention and as soon as I allowed my vision to adjust to the source, dark cloth and a flash of red envelope me.

“What …?”

“I knew something wasn’t right.” His voice was so soothing, his arms tight around my body, his chest inviting and the way his hand spread across my back ... it all meshed perfectly together. “For days, you’ve been acting strange … I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“What .. what are you talking about ..?” my voice was strained, telling of my emotions, and still I tried to push through. “I’m fine, I-I just got something in my eye.”

“You know you can be honest with me.”

“I know …”

“So, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“This isn’t something to worry you over.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulled back so he could look at me and I was glad my glasses were still off. I couldn’t bear to see him clearly right now. “Something is clearly weighing on you, how could I not offer my support?

“It’s stupid, and I just need to get over it.”

“If it makes you feel this way, then whatever problem you have isn’t stupid.” He pressed, and his words, combined with the closeness of him, was starting to break my resolve. I didn’t want to put anything else on his shoulders … I didn’t want to appear weak … I didn’t want to be a failure.

“I’m … struggling.” He didn’t let me go or say anything, which made me fill the silence with my own pitiful words. 

“I’ve been trying for days to get something, anything out and every time I do the words don’t flow like they did. I’m worried … did I write all that I’m ever going to write. What if I can’t do it anymore … what if this is all I have …” The tears began to slip down my cheeks, some found a home in the bend of my lips and filled my mouth with the taste of salt. I shook my head and bit my tongue, this is stupid, I’m acting like a child. I tried to push away from him but he only tightened his grip. “God, there are so many more important things to be upset about, and here I am whining about something so petty.”

“When was the last time you took a break? Perhaps, that may help?”

“I’ve done that … I’ve taken such a long break -- I-I don’t want to take a break anymore. Why is this so hard.” I felt the pressure of my brows as they moved closer to one another, the bending of my nose as I scrunch my face out of frustration. “I’m wasting time and people are waiting on me … how long can I ask them to wait … how long do I deserve their patience …”

“Has anyone pushed you to work faster than you can?”

I parted my lips and ran my tongue over the back of my teeth, “No … but I can’t expect them to wait forever. There’s gotta be something wrong with me, right? That’s the only explanation I have at this point. I’m not good at it anymore … I’m worried and stressed and ... just ... so sad.”

His hands slipped around my arms, one resting against my shoulder and the other cupping my face. “I know this feels like an impassable obstacle, but you haven’t lost anything … you just need to give it time.”

“Haven’t I done that?”

“You told me you’ve been in here trying to force yourself everyday, have you really taken time to rest?” I shrugged my shoulders and shifted my eyes away from him.

“You don’t take breaks either …” I mumbled, my words were an effort to get even and show him how the suggestion was nothing but a silly statement that had no meaning.

“Maybe, I should.” I didn’t want to look at him, but I could tell his tone had grown more thoughtful. He let his hands fall to my wrist, the feeling of his glove against my skin was somehow comforting. “Come with me.” He gripped tightly and led me through the door of the study faster than I could protest. We walked down the stairs, confused maids and staff staring at us as we blew by them before leaving through the heavy doors of the winery and onto the dirt path which held endless possibilities of destinations. I protested, but there was no escaping his grip and, soon, all my effort was on keeping up with his pace.

When I thought I couldn’t take another step we stopped, he released my hand and with him no longer keeping me upright, I fell into the grass below me, my arms sprawled outward. I breathed in deeply and relished the feeling of the wind against my face.

“It’s been a long time since I moved that quickly.”

“How do you feel?”

“Let me get back to you on that… ” I laughed and rested my hand against my chest, the beating of my heart pounding there as I tried to breathe with hot lungs.

I looked up at the sky, the vastness of it stealing my vision and removing anything else. My skin was tickled by the blades of grass that brushed against it, and I watched as a small bee flew over my face his swaying movement mesmerizing. When was the last time I was outside like this… it felt like such a long time ago.

I stretched my hand toward the sky above me, the blue color peeking through my spread fingers, my palm cutting off the fuzzy clouds that moved lazily along. His face came into view and I realized I had yet to put my glasses back on.

He bent down to meet me, his back falling into the grass at my side, hair following the pull of gravity and spreading out in the grassy hill. 

“I can’t believe you are laying in the grass.” I chuckled and dropped my hand back onto my chest, turning my head to look at him.

“I’m known to have a few surprises up my sleeve.” He responded, turning his head to look at me, the light from above gracing his face and somehow only making him even more beautiful than he already was. It was so blinding that I had to look away.

“Hah, well, color me impressed.” For the first time in days, I feel a small reprieve from the darkness which had seeped into my skin. Something internal began to tingle, starting from my fingertips and slowly up my arms and as I took in a deep breath the smell of sweet flowers filled my nose. “Thank you, Diluc.”

He reached for the hand which was moving back and forth above the grass at my side, his strong, large grip providing protection and comfort, and for the first time in days, the feeling of warmth.

“Promise to tell me next time you are struggling; don’t hide away alone.”

“I’ll do my best.”

---

I feel much like Kiki did in Kiki’s Delivery Service ... how can I fly again when I feel so ... bleh 

I’ll keep trying, all <3 

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Boys Who Speak With Silver Luck

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Ok, so THIS is more what I was intending to write for you, @itswormtrain​​! Hope you can learn to forgive me!!

This one is a soul sister/unofficial sequel to ‘You’ve Been Sad (Because I’ve Been Lonely)’ bc I’m bad at doing one shots 

Warnings: SMUT, domesticity, fluff, healthy dynamics, poetry being an aphrodisiac, feels(?)

All poetry mentioned is from the anthology No Thanks by ee cummings, and the title is from the song (inspired by 44 by ee cummings) comes from The Boys Are Too Refined by The Hush Sound

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I still don’t see how you can read those things.”

 You smirk to yourself, nudging his thigh with your foot as he sits at the foot of the bed. 

In retaliation,  Joe lightly traces the tip of his finger up the arch of your right foot and chuckles when you flinch at the tickle of it, the chuckle becoming a laugh when you lower your book and frown at his mirth.

“And here I thought you were actually wanting to do something nice for me,” you tease, letting him pull your foot back into his lap and watching him smirk as he returns to massaging the sore muscles there. “Should’ve known you were gonna betray me eventually….”

 He scoffs at your theatrics, mumbling a soft apology when you hiss in discomfort as his thumb works on a particularly tight knot just above your heel.

 “Why do you wear those things if they hurt your feet so badly?”

 You furrow your brows at him, resting the book on your stomach as you let a smile play on your lips.

 “They’re called heels, and I wear them because they make my legs look amazing.”

 Joe tilts his head to the side as his face takes on a contemplative expression.

  “‘This is true…” he says with a nod. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous in ‘em.”

 You offer a hmph in smug agreement, picking your book back up and continuing where you left off.

 Tonight had been the night of Chuck’s family’s yearly holiday party, the one night where both you and Joe dressed to the nines and got to rub elbows with people Joe and Chuck lovingly referred to as ‘rich snobs with inherent mommy fetishes’. 

Joe never failed to leave you starstruck when he wore his nicest uniform, and even though you didn’t wear yours, Joe always managed to convince you to pin your Purple Heart and as many unit citations you could fit to the breast of whatever dress you picked out. 

 “Fuckin’ love watching those ignorant fuck’s faces when they realize what a badass my wife is,” he had growled in your ear as you had gotten ready that night. “Gets me harder than a goddamn rock, you got no idea…”

 The two of you had danced and drank and laughed over some of the most amazing food you’d ever tasted. It had been perfect.

More and more things were becoming perfect as time went on and the dark horrific shadows of war began to shrink away under the bright California sunshine. 

It was heartbreakingly nice to see Joe happy, truly happy. He deserved it- you all deserved it.

 A groan of frustration is the only warning you get before Joe crawls up your body and plops himself atop you, the suddenness of the action making you release a grunting giggle. Undeterred by the obvious fact that you’re trying to read, he kisses at your chest through your shirt.

 “Pay” kiss “attention” kiss “to meeee” kiss

 You take one hand from the book to scratch lightly at his scalp, smiling at the sound of him humming in annoyance.

 “What’s in that dumb book that’s got you glued to it, huh? What can big words give you that my big—OW.”

 You cut him off by clunking the book gently against the back of his head, giving him a soft smile when he looks up at you with a frown.

 “You’re so needy,” you chastise hollowly. “Never thought you’d get jealous over something as silly as poetry—”

 Joe rolls his eyes. “Poems are for kids and nerds, don’t get what it is about-” he sits up a bit more so he can see the cover of your book. “Whatever an ee cummings is that’s got you so gaga over it…”

 You raise an eyebrow at him. “Believe it or not, Joseph, I think you’d actually like this guy’s poems—”

 Joe snorts before bringing his head back down to rest on your chest. “Yeah, okay—”

 “Hey,” you challenge, scooting up on your pillows so you can sit up, the movement bringing his head to your ribcage. “I’m serious! If you were to like any sort of poetry, you’d need it to be as sexual and swear-y as you are…. Here, listen-”

 Before he can protest, you flip to the one you had in mind: 44.

 “the boys i mean are not refined 

they go with girls who buck and bite 

they do not give a fuck for luck 

they hump them thirteen times a night

 one hangs a hat upon her tit 

one carves a cross on her behind 

they do not give a shit for wit 

the boys i mean are not refined…”

 “Gimme that!”

 Suddenly, the book is ripped from your hand- and before you can protest you are shocked to see Joe turn the book so he can bury his nose in it. Careful not to be smug about it, you bite back a smile as you watch him mouth the words as he reads. 

 The fact that you’re able to hold in a laugh when his eyebrows shoot up in surprise should make you eligible for another Purple Heart.

 When Joe’s eyes flick up to meet yours, he’s looking at you as if you’ve just done some suspicious slide of hand- intrigued but still somewhat cautious.

 “Well?” you ask. “What did you think?”

 Joe flicks his gaze down to the book again, like he thinks it may have changed somehow when he wasn’t looking.

 “Are they….all like this?”

 You do smile now. “Well, I’m not sure- I haven’t read them all yet.”

An idea pops into your mind as he flips through the pages of the book.

 “If you give it back, I can see if I can find another—”

 Joe suddenly smirks, and when he lifts his face so you can see him, he’s looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Read this one.”

 Now you’re the hesitant one, taking the book back from him as if it could suddenly turn into a snake.

The poem he’s picked  is one you haven’t read yet, but if it’s one that Joe picked out you can only imagine what the subject matter is.

 “Okay then,” you say slowly, clearing your throat as you cast him a brief look of suspicion before beginning.

 “may i feel said he

 (i'll squeal said she 

just once said he) 

it's fun said she”

 (may i touch said he

 how much said she

 a lot said he) 

why not said she….”

 As you read, Joe’s hands come up to hold your sides as he kisses slowly across your chest, your stomach. Every so often, his thumbs smooth upward to rub across your shirt-covered  nipples, and you can feel him smile as he kisses at you.

 Your shirt has bunched up, revealing your hips and the sensitive skin between them. Your cheeks feel hot, and your mouth suddenly becomes dry as his lips drag between your hip bones promisingly.

His hair tickles your skin when he begins mouthing lower, to the waistband of your underpants.

 “Y/N?”

 “Yeah?” you sigh, tongue wetting your bottom lips as you begin to breathe heavier.

 “Keep reading.”

 Oh. You hadn’t realized that you’d stopped.

Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before finding the place you left off.

 “Uh, (let's go said he 

not too far said she 

what's too far said he 

where you are said she)

 may i stay said he 

(which way said she 

like...like this said he 

I-if you kiss said she- shit, Joe….”

 Joe’s warm hands have worked your underwear down your hips and around the swell of your bottom, and the heat of his breath across the thinner skin that he’s exposed has you losing focus again.

Because he’s nothing if not a consummate tease, he doesn’t do anything more than kiss only a sliver of the newly revealed skin.

 “Y/N…” he reminds you, nipping lightly at you when you groan in frustration. “I think there’s still some to go—”

 Your heart is thrumming in your chest, and it takes you a few seconds to find where you left off this time.

 “M-may i move said he

 is it love said she) 

if you're…..uh, if you’re willing said he 

(but….. you're killing said she….”

 The words have started to dance across the page, a whine coming from somewhere deep in your chest at the first touch of his fingers to the slick lips of your sex.

You’ve officially lost your place, now. You just pick the stanza your eye catches first and hope for the best.

 “(tiptop said he 

don't stop said she

 oh no said he) 

go slow said she- fuuuuuck…..

 I-(cccome?said he….goddamn it Joe, please!”

 You throw the book off to the side, sweat beading on your brow from how deliberately cruel Joe is being as he continues massaging at you. When Joe sees that you’ve started to shake, he lunges up the bed to wrap a hand around the back of your neck and kisses you messily- your teeth clacking together briefly as he buries his fingers inside of you and immediately finds the place that never fails to ruin you.

 Clinging to the front of his shirt, you squeeze your thighs together as a delicious tremor rolls up your body from where you’ve trapped his hand. You’re so worked up you almost want to cry, the heat in your lower belly almost bowing your back.

 “Does that feel good, Baby?” he mumbles against your lips. “Who is it that’s making you feel this good, huh?”

 You make an incoherent noise, quickly wrapping am arm around his shoulders to try and bring his mouth back to yours, mewling in frustration when he refuses to do so.

 “Ungh! Joe, I’m begging you!”

 “Say it again,” he says darkly, and if you had the strength to open your eyes you’d see just the power-drunk way he is looking down at you. “Do it—”

 “Joe! Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe….”

 You chant his name like a prayer, your voice dying in your throat as he starts using his palm to stimulate your neglected clit.

 With a silent scream, you come apart, head lolling back as he continues to coax you through your orgasm, dimly aware of the praise being kissed across your chin as he refuses to relent the punishing paste he’s established.

 Your face is throbbing with the strength of your thudding heart when he finally starts to slow down, your body still bowing and writhing as he begins to coo down at you sweetly, capturing your lips with his as your shaking starts to subside and your sweat begins to cool.

 “Good girl,” he sighs into your mouth. “You’re such a good girl for me….”

 You don’t reply- can’t reply.  Joe’s reduced you into a boneless mess of a woman.

 When you do eventually open your eyes, Joe is smiling down at you with an obvious affection that threatens to get your heart racing once more. Not taking his eyes from yours, he gently slides his fingers from your still-fluttering sex and makes a show of licking them clean. 

 With a mischievous wink, he uses his other hand to smooth your hair from your forehead before carefully rolling so he’s laying beside you, his shoulder pressed against your as he chuckles.

 “Huh, whaddaya know,” he says after he releases one of his fingers from between his lips with a lewd pop. “Guess poetry isn't that bad.”

 Using all of your energy, you turn your head to give him the weakest glare you think you’ve ever given.

 “When….when I can breathe witho’ havin’ to think about it so hard, I’m gon’ make you cum til you pass out.”

 Joe gives you a smiling kiss.

“And I’ll let you….once we finish round two.”

 Well, looks like I’ll be going back to the bookstore sooner than I thought.

~ ~ ~ Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @teenmagazines​ @liebgotttme​

[we-dragons]

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 7 Damian x reader

"Ira! I need my emergency kit!" Molly is pulling at my hair with a brush, I grimace at my reflection, she had put pearls and violet gems in my hair. Seeing as it already wasn't long bearly pushing past my ears, even though there aren't many of them in there it ways down in some places. I had already allowed her to put me in a ball gown, which I'm sure costs much more than my apartment building. It reminds me of peacock feathers, purples, greens, blues fill the cloth they blend seamlessly dark purple at the top and ending with blue at the bottom. I look at the matching marbled shoes and guilt climbs through me.

"Molly I don't need makeup, I'm already in a peacock dress, and there are gems in my hair. Besides the mascara is enough I don't want to spend an hour rubbing anything else off." Molly gasps, a hand gripping at her heart.

"Why-how could you say such a thing!" Ira hands Molly her phone, she screams. "We're going to be late! Ira put the bag back!" I'm yanked from my chair and raced down the hall within minutes I'm thrown into a limo with Molly's parents. Molly jumps in starting to yell at the driver shocking her parents who kept telling her to calm down. It doesn't take long to get to Wayne Manor, the courtyard is crowded filled with flashing lights from cameras reporters, and newscasts. They surrounded every inch with an exception of a semi-circle right at the front of the building where the car pulled up. Once more I'm pulled roughly out of the vehicle by molly, I nearly trip going up the stairs.

"Molly dear, we need to go in together!" My friend's mother pants from behind her husband seems to be in a similar position as me. Like mother like daughter.

I pull my arm away from Molly gently and smooth out my peacock dress, I sigh internally finding relief that I had personally told Molly to make the dress so it covered without it being tight. If I didn't then I would be pulling up the fabric like Molly who went not so modest. Not only had she blinged out she full-on black and high heels that pushed out her height. She looked good, and she made her parents match. When her mother finally catches up she puts a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

What happens after the incident leaves me at a table sitting behind a card with my name on it. Molly was seated somewhere else because I had used my own invitation instead of being a plus one. My eyes cast over the room soaking in again the decor of the newly decorated main floor. My energy seems to drain while I watch the people chat dance and laugh. No one was seated at my table and I was slightly relieved but I still felt odd. I had gone to parties with my mom in the past, ones that were held in her honor about her findings. I feel myself relishing in those memories I had looking back at the times she would pull a silly face at me while I was bored at said parties, or told a joke in some of her speeches. My mother was the expert in The Islamic Golden Era, despite not being a Muslim herself. She prided herself on giving credit to those who deserved more but had their work stolen by Europeans. But then, when she went on that Egypt and Greece dig she had found something that unnerved her. I knew what it was, and I wish I hadn't either. My happy thoughts turn sour, and I can feel myself grimace. I am tired...so tired.

"You made it, It's good to see you here." my head whips around falling on emerald eyes.

"Yeah, I had already told Molly that she could take me to the next party she goes to. However, I didn't know that if you came with an invite and not a plus one that you had to sit at a separate table." He snorts and sits down to my right.

"You were originally sat by her but father assumed I needed a friend," He shows me a card with his name on it. "so he changed Grayson out for you."

"Do you not have friends?"

"None close by."

"When have I accepted you as a friend?" He smiles

"That is a good question, but the same goes for me, you more someone I tolerate."

"Same here, Besides your a bad influence."

"tsk,...touche." his gaze looks me up and down and I have the sudden urge to say 'eyes up here'.

"You look tired, would you like to go to the library?"

"Usually libraries and tired people don't mix."

"How about a tour then, we have several artifacts my father has purchased that you might find interesting." He pushes harder.

"You want an excuse to leave, don't you? I thought my main purpose for being here was to talk to Mr.Wayne, not venture into the mansion." He sighs with his own body, visibly exaggerating the movements.

"My father is deeply preoccupied already in another engagement, he won't even be here for hours. Would you prefer to stay here doing nothing or would you like to leave?" He sounds rather annoyed while looking off to his left and scowling more. I follow my eyes to a group of three who I recognize from the cafe, all of them are pointing and smirking. I being to feel more drained at the thought of them coming here and stand. "Your home, where to first?" He shoots up, grabbing my hand dragging me through the dense crowd of people.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Amazing, this would date back to the early years of feudal Japan, this is Greek! Oh! There's a Khopesh and a Canaan Sickel sword on this wall!"

Damian scoffs sounding more like a laugh than a mocking tone. "You can tell the difference." I give him a look, feeling offended.

"Of course I can, you mostly can tell by the markings on the blade." I turn my head back to the wall slowly pointing to the distinguishable pieces of evidence. "This one is older Hebrew, and here you can see small hieroglyphics depicting the sun. Plus the metals on each blade are very different." I tilt my head back to him, his face stays indifferent. "You knew that already didn't you?" He nods and walks again.

"You must really like history, seems like you could talk about it none stop." He calls back.

"Did you forget who my mother was?"

"I thought she specialized in the Islamic golden era."

"It didn't mean she didn't know the history of other peoples. My mother developed research of anything she could get her hands on." I pause for a minute. "What about you, where did you learn."

"I was taught by some of the best in the world, my mother made sure of it."

"I see." We talk more while examining the objects displayed, I had fun just listening to him explain how his father got some of them. Though the collection wasn't huge it still made me a bit happy to see the objects. My phone buzzes, and I quickly take it out of my pocket.

Molly: Hey where are you we need to get going!

Molly: Dad got too drunk and now he's crying about the world.

Molly: We will be outside, Be there.

"Sorry, I have to get going, I'll see you at school later!" I run through the hall and snag as many macarons as I can on the way out. Molly waves from the car opening the door so I slide in faster.

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"Sorcerer found. Name: Doctor Fate, Subject: host"

"Anyone else?"

"Database shows,... John Constantine, and Zatanna. All other information is unavailable."

"Gather what they have on the crows send probes if you must."

"Proceeding."

Nightmare stands by the window waiting for his queue. I pull a scale out from the box and open the window. I hand him the scale and he chews effectively destroying the small miracle. "Remember stay out of sight if someone spots you wipe it from their memory and if you see a crow take the fight to the in-between and go for the kill. You have a little bit of my power with you only use it when needed." He purrs, rubbing his head on my hand, then jumps. He vanishes. I sigh putting the device in the box marked with an X just in case and push it under my bed. I head out into my living room putting some things away and cleaning here and there. Proud of my work I turn on the TV and sprawl on my sofa with a bowl of popcorn. Reruns of Highlander play on one of my favorite channels, I smile at my luck and sing to the theme song.

*Thunk thunk thunk*

I jump at the sound, I hear the noise again and follow it to my kitchen bat in hand. I flip on the light and smack my face, a very wet robin scowls at me through the glass. Only then did I notice the rain, and I pray that Nightmare is staying safe. I open the door and let him in, he mutters a thank you while walking in dipping water on my floor.

"Not to be rude, but is there something you need?" He ignores me and continues dragging water on the floor to the living room.

"Robin?" I catch up to him, he pulls something out from his ear and stuffs it in his pocket.

"I would like to stay here for a little while"

"How long is a little while, will I need to pull out the bed in the couch?" He gives me a look.

"There's a bed in your couch?"

"Sometimes I want to watch TV while I do my homework, laying down here makes it easier." I go to the bathroom to pull out some towels.

"Where was this when I was heavily injured?"

"I'm sorry, but the fact that you were bleeding was more concerning. I also put new sheets on the bed and you broke a perfectly good window. There is still blood on my cushions, and you wanted me to place you on the bed?" grabbing the biggest fluffiest towel in the bunch walking back out to the living room.

"You still on about that?"

"It was expensive!" I hold out the towel, he takes it and places his yellow cape in my hand. I frown but head to the coat rack hanging the heavy fabric on the highest rung. I feel short noticing its length, I turn back to Robin who's sat down on the couch the large towel engulfing him completely minus his hair. The black strands stuck oddly to his face and drooped sadly, I almost laugh because he looks like a sad cat. Like Nightmare whenever I give him a bath, I think I have a picture of that somewhere. "Did you want something to drink or eat?"

"Why is it that every time I come here you offer something?"

"It's a hospitality thing I got living in Minnesota, it's just being nice. Besides, you work to protect people, don't you? It only makes sense that I offer you something, I doubt you get paid to do your job. I bet you have countless scars from just doing so, I can do my part and help you feel comfortable. Call it a form of respect."

"Tsk."

I stroll into the kitchen, "Well, I suppose I could give some soda, tea, or water after all you left plenty on the floor."

"What happened to respect?"

"Well, I have feelings to sir! Tossing my words aside like that, I shouldn't even feed you." I poke my head back out, I smile at his scowl while he in turn glares at me. "Now for once, I am out of tea but I have several cans of cherry coke and some popcorn and macarons from a party I went to earlier. How about that?"

"That's fine." I hum grabbing what I needed and plopped back down in my seat handing him the coke. I place the brightly colored macarons and some chips I found between us along with the popcorn. I let myself get absorbed into the Highlander again just as MacLeod beheads another immortal and gains his Quickening.

"What is this?" My Jaw drops while I look at him concerned.

"Just how uncultured are you." His face flushes and his face twists he opens his mouth but i stop him. "Say no more, I will be right back." I come out with my computer and pull up VUDU opening season one of the show. "Sit back buckaroo, now your in for the long haul. Now right now all you need to know is 'There can only be one." His face contorts in confusion, but gives in and moves closer.

"I'm not going to get in trouble with Batman am I." He smirks.

"Most likely."

"Dammit."

[infinitegalahad]

YOUR PROMPTS ARE OPEN!!!! 🥳🥳🥳 im so excited this time has come! you know i'll probably send a few but for my first i'd like to request #'s 33 and 50 from the fluff prompts with my dear shifty, of course. mucho love 2 u!

A LITTLE PIECE OF HOME

Summary: Before your childhood friends Popeye and Shifty are shipped out, Popeye brings his new camera and decides to make some last minute memories. 

Word-Count: 1.9k 

Prompts: “can i keep it, the photo of us?” and “look at me.”

A/N: pearl, my love, my life-HI! your little request was beyond fun to write! this piece is short and sweet in (hopefully) all the right places-anything for you! shifty is our sweet sunshine boy and it was a pleasure to write for you. i hope you request more prompts soon my love-thanks you for being there for me. your messages always brighten my day. i hope you enjoy ❣️✨ 

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

It was the perfect day outside. In Virginia, it felt like summer all year round. But today was different-it was absolutely gorgeous. The sun shined bright as the heat burned down on your exposed shoulders with the sun making your skin become pink. The day seemed too perfect for it to end so soon.

You, Darrell, and Robert had been friends since the three of you were in diapers. You all grew up in a small tight-knit town; living down the same dirt road that went for miles on end, going to the same Sunday church and packed diner for pancakes and milkshakes, walked all over the train tracks, the three of you were conjoined at the hip. Wherever they went, you went with them.

Robert was the one who brought the group together. In second grade, Robert and Darrell had been playing during recess one day and saw you, sitting all by yourself with tears coming out of your big eyes and your hair and dress all covered in dirt. Darrell saw you and ran over. He didn’t know you, but he hated seeing other people sad-so not only were you crying, but Darrell burst into loud sobs, followed by Robert. When you had stopped crying, Darrell and Robert took you to their little play corner and got wet clothes, rubbing the dirt from your face. The boys in your school had been teasing you and kicked dirt in your direction, messing up the outfit your mama had made for you. While Darrell attempted to “make you pretty” again, he asked for your name and asked if you had any friends. Once you told him your name and that you had no friends, he said that he and Robert were your new friends from now on.

And they truly were.

Now the three of you we’re in your twenties-still living in that small town in Virginia. Each of you had changed in appearance. Popeye grew into his round-face, his thin hair receding, but his dimples and slurred accent still remaining the same. Shifty, well to you-he was handsome. He hadn’t changed one bit, but every day he got even more handsome to look at it. He grew from the sweetheart who cried with you in second grade to the boy who offered to take you platonically to prom since nobody was “in their right mind” to do so. The boy with the sun-tanned skin and comforting smile was your best friend and the love of your life. But how could you tell him? Almost every girl wanted him. Bless their hearts, but he was too shy for his own good-and so were you. Considering your experience with men, you decided it was best if you and Shifty would stay friends. The two of you had done some for nearly a decade. But as you got older, it got harder to contain those feelings. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like you were going to throw up your heart.

The three of you all believed that you would live in this town for the rest of your lives and until you were all old and real adults. But that all changed in an instant.

Robert and Shifty had signed up for the Paratroopers and we’re being shipped out to Toccoa early next morning. They had broken the news to you last night at Shifty’s house with his poor Ma, breaking into tears. Just like his ma, Shifty’s big eyes began to burst into tears, which made everybody cry. Whenever he got emotional, it always reminded you of a younger and more innocent Shifty, the one that never missed a single shot and loved nature. Your one, true friend who you could tell anything to, the one who knew your small quirks and deepest secrets. The one man that you loved more than anything in the world that was now slipping through your fingers.

In that very field you sat in, you stayed silent most of the time. Shifty had his rifles slung over his shoulders, donning light blue overalls as he and Popeye walked around, casually conversing about being Paratroopers. You hide behind the tall grass, slowly picking the petals off of a bright daisy, muttering to yourself. You watched his every move; his lips moving with a smile, his smooth skin glittering in the sun, and his chocolate brown hair becoming golden in the bright sun.

You had become so lost in your own little world that you didn’t even notice Shifty, standing right next to you. He poked your shoulder and saw you looked up with a confused face, progressing your surroundings.

“Y/n? You okay?” He asked, bending down with his hands on his knees. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

You looked up and subtle smiled to cover up your sadness. “I am, Darrell. Just a little sleepy.”

Darrell held out a free hand in front of your face, “Well, you wanna with me just a little?

You silently responded and took his hand, which lingered for longer than you wanted it to. His hands had been so worked, his skin remained as soft as silk. His fingertips finessed against your palm. The two of you walked side by side as you walked side by side, the sounds of the wind blowing through the tall grass filling the silent void.

Darrell was a little concerned by your quiet behavior. You were normally very energetic about him and Robert, but you were as silent as a mouse today. It was your last time truly with him and for Robert for one month, one year, who knew how long they would be gone for. Darrell maybe would never see you again, the small town the two of you grew up in, your bright smile. He wanted to see that every single day; whether that be waking up to you in the morning or having a little piece of you overseas.

Darrell was very in touch with his emotions, unafraid to conceal them. His ma always taught him to be honest, and that’s what he did best. So when you were down, he had to fix it before it was too late.

“Y/n?” He said in a low tone, turning over to see you, unresponsive as you looked down at your fiddling hands. You were hurting, and it broke his heart to see what. “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?”

You were unresponsive as you kept your eyes down, your hands scrunching with the fabric of your flowy skirt. He had done nothing wrong-he never had done anything wrong to you ever. But it was hard to think that the next time you would hear from Shifty-it could be a military letter and announce that he had died a hero. Just another number in a never-ending war. And that you, a fool, never confessed how you felt to your childhood best friend.

Darrell stopped in his tracks and let out a soft sigh, tenderly grabbing your forehand to stop you as well. His free hand moved to the edge of your chin, gently tilting it sideways so you would make eye contact with him.

“Look at me,” Darrell politely requested, his voice shaky.

You followed his request and looked at him, seeing that he was fighting back tears. You weren’t the only one, which made you feel relieved and even sadder.

“Oh Darrell...you know if I start with my waterworks, you’ll be followed’ after,'' You remarked and let out a dry chuckle, masking the incoming tears. It was too late and a stray tear escaped from Shifty’s eye, his pink lips quivering as he was speechless.

Just like you had stated, two tears came from your eyes as you used a finger to wipe him away. “Told ya’ so. Look at us, just little kids.”

Darrell rested in your palm, rubbing against it like a cat would with a pillow. “Like it was yesterday. I remember washing the dirt from your cheeks so I could make you look pretty again. Don’t know why I ever said that-you still are pretty.”

You patted his cheeks as you lead his hands down into your own, squeezing them. Darrell and you stood in the open field, hands tangled with each other, the wind blowing against you as the grass tickled your bare feet. Not only did the humidity make you feel warm, but so did the growing heat in your cheeks.

“How do you tell someone you love them?” Darrell casually questioned to break the silence that was growing in the wind.

A smile crept on your face, “Just like your ma would say, you just gotta be honest with yourself.”

“Well, I think I love you. No, I don’t think. I know it.” Darell declared, holding your hands close to his chest. “I wanted to let you know. I didn’t wanna ever tell you.”

You tilted your heart and let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Darell...I…”

The sudden click and flash of a camera before blinded you and Shifty. You squint your eyes as they burned with flashes of white light as Shifty pulled you into his chest, his hands protectively resting on your lower back.

It was just Robert, holding his brand new camera over his eyes, his thin eyebrows raised and mouth wide open in shock. Instead of reacting, Shifty and you stayed close together, both red in the face along with Robert.

Robert took the photo out of the camera and shook it, tucking it into Shifty’s pocket. You opened your mouth to speak, but Robert beat you to it.

“I’ll leave you lovebirds to it,” Robert said as he turned around, walking away in a hurry, “I’ll see ya at the Power’s for supper-I hope.”

Once Robert had left, Shifty dug his fingers into his pocket to retrieve the photo. You leaned against his chest and observed the photo. Robert had caught the two of you in the middle of your confession, hands tangled as your eyes met. Both of you had smiles on your faces-and Darrell looked amazing-even if he was in black and white.

“That’s not a bad photo of you,” You complimented as you leaned into his nice smelling chest, “You looked handsome.”

“And you looked pretty-but you always do.” Shifty shot back, planting a kiss into your face. He observed the photo and then looked down at you to compare, a big smile appearing on his face like a child on Christmas morning. Shifty had found his answer, and it was not only right in front of him but in his fingertips.

“Can I keep it, this photo of us?” Darrell said in your hair as he shook the photo, “When I need a piece of home. I’ll give you my whole heart, anything you want, darlin’.”

You nodded your head, “Yes, you can. You don’t need to give me anything-but can I ask you something?”

“Yes, darlin’. Anything,” Darrell stated as he looked down at your adoringly. He looked like he wanted to give you the whole world in that moment, If he could have, he would have.

“We only got a night left together for a long time. Can we spend it all together? Just one night?”

Shifty flashed his bright smile and kissed each knuckle on your hand, leaving a small mark. “Yes ma’am.”

Once Shifty had neatly stored the cherished photograph of you into his breast project, the two of you grabbed each other's hands and walked down the gravel road, back to the Power’s residence for supper. You leaned against his shoulder, letting him lead you. Whenever Darrell had gone, you would follow along. You knew your last few hours together were short, but if it was your last time ever seeing Darell-you wanted to make the most of it.