#graphic tablet was not laughing

[illegallimeseller]

I was battleing with myself for almost two days if I should post it but I guess I end up doing it in the end. But I made a oc and I yap a little about them and added a bit of context what they fuck it is lmao. I would appreciate if you would read the yap :3

@paranormal-peri

!!Little yapping about them below!!

I made Paranormal Peri oc just for shits and giggles. Yes they do have pronouns yes they have no idea what they are doing with their life but well. No they do not do drugs. Their name Is Eris since that's greek goddess of rivalty and discord but they are just an energetic folk always open for helping others and I liked the opposite thinking. They literally do not care about most stuff they just wanth their paycheck. They are mostly supportive and caring person and do not agree with some of intitution works but well they are paying them well so. They just listen orders and do what they are tasked too. They heard just a few words about project Phairy but that would be it. Just wanted to draw some contrast for the fic idk why. I just thought that this dark and scary place needed some fun so I did. They literally just want their paycheck and they will be happy. Also don't agree with hurting living beings most of the time.

Based on what my pookie is telling me always "PURPLE HAIR? YOU PROBABLY HAVE PRONOUNS TOO" so yeah they do

I am sorry if it end up bad or mean in anyway I just wanted to laugh a little hehe.

I almost throw my graphic tablet across the room. while drawing this LMAO

[krirebr]

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

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[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

✧˚ · .Painting their portrait ✧˚ · .

Note: I hope everyone is doing well 💖 I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 If you want to commission me check my ko-fi and pinned post for prices. Thank you!

When he found out about your talent, he immediately bought you the most expensive equipment. Whether you like to paint on a canvas or on a graphic tablet, he will buy you only the best products. 

He's very old-fashioned and wants a classic portrait. He'll arrange a proper setting to fit his taste. With a fireplace in the background, an expensive suit, and some other decoration that screams old money, he’ll sit with his legs crossed in his comfy chair while he looks at you. A soft smile would appear on his face, especially when you two locked eyes. You thought about painting that lovely smile and contouring those sweet dimples, but you know him better and chose to leave a stoic expression on his face. His soft side is for your eyes only. 

He won’t mind sitting for hours because he'll have the greatest company. You two will gossip about the hottest tea at work, talk about his latest projects, and besides that, he'll have his romantic moments when he tells you how much he cherishes you. 

The final result leaves him in awe.

"Darling, this is astonishing." He said, amber eyes studying every inch of the canvas and feeling an immense sense of pride washing over him. He couldn't take his eyes off your masterpiece.

"I knew you had it in you," he began after a short period of total silence. "Yet you managed to exceed my expectations."

You breathe a sigh of relief. Even if he was your boyfriend, it was hard to please him. He didn't coddle you, so when he praised you, you knew it was real. 

He will hang that portrait with pride in his office, and he’ll tell everyone with pride that his partner made the incredible art.

With the corner of his eye, he noticed how you kept shifting your gaze from your notebook to him. Sometimes you'd stare longer at him, and sometimes your hand would go faster and then slower as if you were trying to remember something. Sometimes, you would scratch your head with the pencil and sighed in frustration. 

Whatever you were doodling, it wasn't coming along as you wanted.

Not being able to control his curiosity anymore, he slowly approached your desk. 

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, looking over your shoulder, directly in the notebook. A wide smile appeared shortly. 

You didn't hide the page in time, and Leon saw the sketches with his face. You drew him from three different angles. Even if you were in a hurry, you still captured his soft features—his genuine smile and his gentle gaze.

"I- uh-I..." you fumbled, hands going in random directions over the paper.

"You don't have to hide it. I think it looks good." He smirked and went back to his desk. 

"Thanks. Listen, I was taking a break, and I felt a bit of inspiration coming in-"

"You don't have to excuse yourself." He chucked and turned to face you. In that moment, you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks great, given how fast you draw."

"And given how much you fidget,"

He chuckled. 

"Seriously, man, lay off that coffee." 

You both laughed, making some people turn their attention to you out of curiosity. A quick glance around, and you quiet down a bit. 

"If you want to finish, I'll try my best to stand still." 

"I would appreciate that." 

You both smiled at each other. Time went by fast, and by the time you finished, the office was empty. None of you felt the time passing by as you got to know each other better. Leon loved his portraits and "stole" your notebook. 

He loved everything you did. Every gesture, every tic, everything was just perfect for him. 

What he cherished most was your talent when it came to art. Everything you touched turned into a masterpiece, something so beautiful that it can’t be described by a simple man. So, when you wanted to paint him, he looked at you in shock. 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you." 

"Why?" he chuckled. 

"Because I want to. And because I want an excuse to stare at your picture for hours while you are away on missions." 

He pulled you closer and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Alright. Make sure to highlight my good side." 

"As if you have a bad one." 

Despite loving how affectionate and supportive you were with him, he never understood why. He viewed himself as a rough, cranky man who got on everyone's nerve. For short, an asshole. But to you, he wasn't like that. Despite the hardships in his life, he still maintained a soft gaze. 

Naturally, he wondered why you wanted him to be part of your beautiful portfolio. And more importantly, did he deserve to be part of it?

For the next couple of days, he waited for you to finish. He would peek in your room to see the progress, but you didn't let him. You wanted to surprise him.

When he came back from his mission, arriving in your comfy apartment, you shoved your art in front of his face. 

"Do you like it?" you asked excitedly.

He reluctantly took the canvas and stared at it for a few seconds. It's not that he didn't like it. It's the fact that he didn't recognize himself. His scars weren’t so prominent, his eyes weren't so full of sadness and anger, and his lips were curved in a soft smile. His features were softer, friendlier, even. 

“This… I know it’s me, but it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”

"Why do you say that?”

“It feels like you retouched my face.”

“Hmm, no, this is how you look in real life. You're not as tough-looking as you think."

He loves it regardless, and he loves you even more. 

His muse in this life was you. Every time he looked at you, every time he saw your pretty face, his mood would lighten up in a heartbeat. A catastrophe at the moment would turn into something insignificant, something he could overcome with ease.

What he loved most about you was your talent. He was amazed at the beautiful things you could create with your hands, unlike him. He found refuge in your art, staring at your finished and unfinished projects for hours.

"Mi dulzura, what masterpieces are you creating?"

"Thank you, mi rey. Wanna be part of them?"

He smiled. He approached you with light footsteps, rubbing your shoulders gently when he reached your back.

"I'd be honoured."

He was thrilled. Being fascinated by your talent, he wanted to ask you long ago, but he didn't want to overcrowd you as you had many projects and clients. He didn't want to put more pressure. He simply told you that he doesn't want anything fancy.

He waited every day for you to finish, barely containing himself from asking dozens of questions. You had to kick him out multiple times from your room because you wanted to surprise him.

"Luis," you called out, "it's done!"

He came in a hurry, and as expected, he loved the result. He wouldn't stop praising you for creating another masterpiece.

"This is...I have no words. It's simply stunning."

"Well, you are stunning," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I guess I really am your Prince Charming."

You chuckled and were ready to say something, but he caught your lips in a quick, gentle kiss.

From that moment on, he becomes your one and only muse. You'd paint him in various poses and various clothes, sometimes with you as well. He would sit near you, watching you do your magic without saying a word. He loves and respects what you do a lot. 

[chaebolheir]

finally!

I did say I wanna draw maz and jiaf together, so I did! I've been spending lots of time in Indonesia, so I thought about it. jiaf and maz (belongs to @anonbeadraws ), on the top of the mountain, laughing and talking, while jiaf lends maz a shirt of hers! i really wanted to draw some batik ( traditional indonesian fabric, so I put maz in a colorful top, I hope u don't mind ! this was fun to draw, though I had to use my tablet instead of my actual graphic tablet. half of it was actually drawn on the mountain, during sunset. :>

commissions are open!

[khristie16]

Social dance ¬ One

An old soul, lost in a modern society ruled by concepts which are normalised. Unable to follow them even if tried enough, a risk to be left alone in the dark, where shadows control life and decisions. To learn the normalised and be stumped in it or unlearn some patterns?

trope: childhood friends -> enemies to lovers format: reader x charles leclerc

triggers in this chapter: physically absent father You're free to leave a comment on how you like it, besos❀

Growing up in a tranquil neighbourhood, where silence was only occasionally interrupted by the distant hum of life, seemed mundane as a child. But now, you find yourself yearning for those days when the world was filled with the magic of fairy tales and the innocent fear of imaginary monsters under your bed. The simplicity of those days, when the biggest worry was dark shadows, feels like a comforting memory against the complexities of adult life.

Even as an adult, there's a part of you that still believes in the fantastical creatures that once haunted your dreams, a reminder of the vibrant imagination of youth. You fondly remember Charles, the boy next door, whose presence was as constant as the changing seasons. Living with his two brothers, he was an integral part of your childhood tapestry.

Those summers spent playing with water guns and pretending to be gangsters, with homemade lemonade as your elixir, are cherished memories. The lemonade's tangy sweetness seemed to cool the essence of summer's heat. As second grade rolled around, new friendships began to form, reshaping the landscape of your young heart.

You laugh now at the simplicity of those early days, where girls played with girls and boys did the same. It was a natural progression, the formation of new groups, so subtle you barely noticed it happening.

As time flowed on, your thirteenth birthday brought with it life-changing news. Your father, a dedicated and brilliant engineer, announced his move to a different city for a better job. His unwavering commitment to providing financial security and happiness for you and your mother was evident, a priority that guided his every decision.

As an introverted and shy girl, you cherished the few friendships you had but longed for close ones. You craved big gatherings but remained loyal to your initial choices.

High school began, and the absence of your best friend at the same school made the transition even harder. Making new friends proved challenging as your interests diverged from those of your classmates. The boys seemed indifferent, drawn to different types of girls. This solitude pushed you to delve into your passions—hobbies and sports that brought you joy—and deepened the bond with your father through shared interests.

Charles reentered your life, capturing your attention once more. As a natural observer, you noted the subtle ways girls behaved around him, ways that were foreign to you. There seemed to be a pattern to their actions, a social dance you hadn't yet mastered. So, you stood on the sidelines, watching and learning.

The classroom buzzes with the low hum of chatter, but your mind is elsewhere. Lost in thoughts, you barely notice your friend, Mary, seated beside you.

“What are you looking at?” Mary's voice breaks through your reverie.

Mary, the blue-eyed gamer girl, sits next to you. Her dark, fine hair frames her face, and her headphones rest casually on her shoulders. She hums a Korean song softly while sketching on her graphic tablet.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing.”

Mary nods, her attention returning to her art. After a few moments, she glances at you with curiosity. “Seriously, what are you trying to find there?”

Your gaze drifts to Charles—handsome, with a tall figure and brown, curly hair that looks irresistibly touchable. He's smiling at your classmate Liz, who exudes beauty and confidence. An ache spreads in your chest, but you quickly dismiss it as irrational.

“He's hot,” Mary comments casually.

You snap your head towards her, eyes wide in surprise. Mary chuckles at your reaction. “What? It's the truth.”

You shake your head, looking down at your hands. They could use some care, evidence of your passion for hobbies that leave oil under your nails. You've developed the habit of hiding them, but it's clear what you do in your free time.

Mary studies you closely, concern etched on her face. “Something wrong?”

You shake your head again, adjusting your position for comfort. “Nothing, just the usual,” you lie, hating the words as you say them.

“Jeez, I hope the trip will change you a bit,” Mary says, pecking your cheek affectionately.

You chuckle, appreciating her honesty. It's one of the things you love about her. Despite everything, she's always genuine.

You observe the boys, noting how they pay attention to specific girls—girls who aren't like you. You prefer your big T-shirts, allowing comfort while eating a hamburger, and you like your hair in a bun, keeping it out of the way while working under a car.

Your fondness for everything that reminds you of your dad is something you wouldn't change, not even for Charles's wandering eyes. You wish he could see you differently, or more accurately, see you at all.

Ironically, you talk more with his younger brother, Arthur. He's the youngest and always tried to keep up with you and Charles when you played as kids. Arthur has a soft spot for you because you remind him of home. You've known each other since childhood, and you've always looked out for him.

Unfortunately, Arthur started his first year here and is busy with his own life.

“Yeah, it could do me some good,” you murmur, zoning out as you think about the upcoming trip.

Flashback: Two weeks ago

Sweat drips into your eyes as you breathe heavily under the car, working diligently to put the parts back together.

“YN!”

You turn your head to see who's calling, though you already know. Long, slim legs in a pleated pink skirt stand at the doorway.

You push yourself out from under the car and grab a towel to wipe your face. “Yes, Mom?”

You have your mother's eyes—brown and almond-shaped, though yours are lighter, more amber than her dark chocolate. Your father's green eyes give you a unique blend. Your mother is a lady, elegant and beautiful, and you love her just as much as your father.

“I need to talk to you, hun.”

You nod and stand up, ready to listen.

Your mom is looking at you with a pitying look yet a sweet smile, which makes you feel like the sore leg of the whole family. As a child, when the family was still together, you did not experience such feelings. You concluded that this is a natural human development, causing people to feel worse mentally and often physically in today's world. You shook yourself out of your mother's piercing eyes. She misses your dad as much as you do.

The pitying look comes from her resentment of you spending so much time in the garage and not having a life like everyone else. Though your mom was never one of those women who wanted to take it far; she always stayed at home and raised you. For this, you are glad, but you wouldn't believe she could begrudge your decision. Maybe she hates when you ride your motorbike in the rain and it's stuffy every time you come back home.

You had to admit that the adrenaline was the only thing that made you feel alive. And if you didn't have your female friends in your life, you'd probably be even worse off. Sometimes you agreed when this thought made its way to the top of your consciousness, but you chose to ignore it. Every time, it made your heart sink and form a lump in your throat.

The most devastating feeling about it all was that you had a life, in a way. Hobbies, skills, and intelligence allowed you to sail through school academically, but you still felt empty. At first, you said it was puberty, but it took a long time. Even your friends had something you were missing, but you didn't know what it was. When you started to think about it longer, you didn't come to any conclusion. Maybe there's something more to it that you don't know about, but your mom's presence brought you back to the present when her soft and kind hands touched yours.

“Sweetie, your dad and I were thinking that you could visit my sister in Italy. Do you still remember her?”

You sigh, remembering her. She is everything you are not and probably never will be. Full of life, five men in each palm, and her life revolves around fun, a little work, and a lot of sex. You don't blame her, but you wonder why your parents want to send you there.

“You know, she's busy now. She started a babysitting business, and you know Eve. She's a nut, and when she sent me videos, she had about ten kids there at once, but her grace makes everything easier.”

At this point, you want to collapse, go back under the car, and not get out. Your shock is evident because your mom squeezes your hands.

“It would only take a few weeks. You were always so patient and responsible; it would help her a lot.”

Her words warm your heart slightly. At least someone appreciates these qualities. The problem is that it isn't the real reason they want to send you there. But you know your mom too well to pry the information out of her even if you'd asked.

You sigh. “You know school has started and I need to study.”

“It doesn't matter; I already arranged it at school. You will have an individual plan for the time you are not here.”

Unfortunately or not, your face has the ability to show every emotion and thought swirling inside. You want to curse yourself for it the second your mom stands up straight, ready to insist you listen. You raise your hands in anticipation that you weren't going to talk about it any further and go back under the car. After Mom sulks in the garage for a little while longer, deciding it would be better if you both cooled down, you get up again and go to the phone.

Dad picks it up on the other end. “Hello, sunshine, how are you?”

This time, you don't bother with small talk. “Why are you and Mom sending me away?”

Dad is silent for a second and then starts, “So she already told you. I told her to wait until I come for the weekend.”

“That's nice, but I want a reason.”

“Your mother thinks you lack certain skills.”

“Like what?”

Your blood is boiling, and you want to punch the wall or the ground. Right now, you don't care.

“Your mother told me how she was raised differently and she would like it for you as well. She is afraid you'll fall behind—”

You admire how your father is attentive to your mother's wishes, but right now you wish it were otherwise. Dad doesn't have a firm hand when it comes to Mom's feelings, so he allows her everything she has in her heart.

“—that we will send you there for a few months and see how it will benefit you.”

“What? Mom said a few weeks…”

“It wouldn't make much sense. It's far away.”

Tears begin to well up in your eyes and you feel helpless, just like you experience every day at school, but this time much more intense. The other part of you that survives inside is being ripped apart, leaving you with heavy breathing.

“Baby, wait for me to come home. You'll be fine.”

“How could I be fine when you want to send me a billion miles away?”

Dad just sighs. You can tell he’s sorry too, but he's adamant that it will benefit you.

“You'll see. You’ll be able to teach your aunt how to fix cars.”

A small smile forms on your face as you start laughing. The image of your aunt under the car is enough to break the tension. After the phone call with Dad, you head to the living room to talk to Mom, but someone knocks on the door. Mindlessly, you go to open it and there stands Charles.

Except he has Liz wrapped around his neck, hanging on him like a coat on a hanger, with lipstick smeared all over her face. No wonder she wasn't cast for the Joker adaptation. Charles stares blankly with a smudge of lipstick on his face.

After the initial shock, you ask what they would like.

Charles enlightens you about their visit: he needs to pick up some of your mom's freshly baked healthy bread for his mom, without lactose and all the other things discussed in magazines you don't read. You close the door to call your mom. Before you can do that, Liz speaks.

“Is that a boy or a girl?”

You flush like a pan on the stove, not hearing your mother's footsteps as she suddenly appears in front of you with her hands full of buns. You swallow and open the door a little more. This time, you focus your gaze on Liz, who you want to punch in the face and hope her hair turns gray when she sees herself in the mirror.

But when you look at Charles, you see that he’s amused by Liz's comment, as he has a smirk on his face. It doesn’t make you angry; it hurts you.

You wouldn’t expect that from someone like him. You spent your entire childhood together, and you hoped he would at least protect you. Somehow. But who are you to him for him to do something like that? After all, you haven't talked to each other in a long time.

And a part of you is glad to soon be away from people who box you in and don't care anymore.

Now

Back in your room, you start packing reluctantly. Mary calls and tries to cheer you up, suggesting that Italy might be an adventure you need, even if you can’t see it yet.

A few days later, you’re at the airport, saying goodbye to your mom. Her eyes are teary, and she hugs you tightly. “Remember, this is for your own good, sweetheart. Have an open mind, okay?”

You nod, though you’re not entirely convinced. The flight feels long, but you distract yourself by imagining what Italy will be like. When you arrive, your aunt Eve is there to greet you, her bright smile and effervescent personality already overwhelming.

“Welcome to Italy, darling! We’re going to have so much fun!” she exclaims, pulling you into a hug.

You manage a smile, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this trip will help you find whatever it is you’ve been missing. Eve’s place is bustling with activity—kids everywhere, laughter, and chaos. It’s a stark contrast to your quiet, introspective life.

In the following days, you settle into a routine. Helping Eve with the children keeps you busy, and you start to appreciate the small moments of joy in their innocent smiles and giggles. One evening, as you’re tucking in one of the kids, Eve joins you.

“You’re really good with them,” she says softly. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot.”

You nod, feeling a sense of warmth. It’s nice to be appreciated. “It’s different, but I’m getting used to it.”

Eve smiles. “You know, I see a lot of your mom in you. She was always so responsible and patient. But don’t forget to have fun, too. Life is too short to be serious all the time.”

Her words linger with you as you navigate the days. Slowly, you start to explore more—venturing out into the vibrant streets of Italy, tasting the food, and absorbing the culture. You even meet some locals who introduce you to new hobbies and interests.

One afternoon, while you’re out exploring, you receive a text from Mary. “Hey, guess what? Charles asked about you today. He seemed surprised you left.”

You stare at the message, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Before you can overthink it, another message comes in. “Maybe this trip will show him what he’s missing out on.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. Italy is changing you, bit by bit. You’re finding pieces of yourself you didn’t know were missing. And maybe, just maybe, when you return, you’ll be ready to face whatever comes your way—whether it’s Charles, school, or just life in general.

With renewed determination, you continue to embrace your time in Italy, knowing that this experience is shaping you into a stronger, more confident person. And who knows? Maybe when you return home, you’ll be ready to show the world the real you.

[calware]

would you ever share a list of your fave fics to reread ? Id love to hear your recommendations and faves

sure thing :) i'm only going to list works that have been going on for a while (or at least have gotten past the very beginning of the story) and that i've read all the way through. i'm also not going to list any of the super iconic fics i like because this list is already pretty long. these are all based on stuff that i personally find more interesting to read about, mostly focused on the human characters and not a lot of romance

i don't really know if these first two count but they're too good to not include:

Jade Route by spicyyeti

a post-epilogues comic centering around jade, this is my favorite homestuck fanwork. i especially love the artwork and the way it frames the story. it is reaaallllly hard to read it on a phone so make sure to read it on a computer or tablet

House of Dirk by imarriedacherub no rating - graphic depictions of violence - 13,570 words - 20 chapters (unfinished) A sitcom about completely normal and well-adjusted newlyweds Dirk and Caliborn attempting to make a good impression on their son, Dave, and his boyfriend, Karkat.

another comic, this one hosted on both ao3 and mspfa (though the ao3 version has more pages). i like how ridiculous it is. will probably never be finished, sadly

moving on to the actual fics:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. sadly, this one barely touches on jane and jake, but it's pretty interesting to read about what dirk and roxy are getting up to with their guardians (and the earth) restored to their previous conditions

The Haunted Harley House by hemoanarchists teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 78,462 words - 23 chapters (finished) There is an old house you built a long long time ago, alongside someone very close to you. Now as you don a new name, slipping back into society to care for a descendant, to whom tragedy has left you as her only family left, you take her to the house, the house that bears your family name. You really shouldn't have been surprised when he came to join you. It is his house too, after all.

carlah, a young girl who lives on earth c, has just been taken in by her uncle "jacob harley" after her mother's death. as time goes on, she slowly learns more about the true nature of her new guardians and the house they all live in. normally i'm not that interested in OCs but i love how intriguing carlah is as an outsider of the story. it's really easy to get invested in her as she uncovers a mystery we all know from the beginning and another that we have to learn along with her. shoutout to dysfunctional family dynamics

actually, while i'm at it, i'm going to recommend a bunch of other stuff he's written:

Atlantis Bound teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 33,263 words - 8 chapters (unfinished) Dirk tracks down an old friend

prequel to the haunted harley house but can also be read after (or separately). i really like the dynamic between dirk and vriska here, and i also love the way vriska's repeated reincarnation is utilized. vriska's journey through the newest iteration of her life while dirk watches over her is soooo captivating, especially when snippets of her previous lives are sprinkled in throughout. do you guys love cycles? personally i love cycles

Cherubian mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 54,011 words - 29 chapters (unfinished) The 5000 year time skip never happened, at the dawn of time the gods desperately try to guide the planet into a better future. But with tensions rising it feels like one bad day could bring everything crumbling down.

all of dante's earth-c god fics as a whole changed my brain chemistry and this acts as the beginning (and catalyst) of that overarching story. a lot happens in a very short amount of time

Transitional teen - no warnings apply - 1,860 words - oneshot a simple question what changed when you went godtier?

super simple but also an interesting exploration of the headcanon that players' bodies change when they go godtier. the twist is that each "change" is unique to each character and relates to their Self in some way

Monster under the bed teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,573 words - oneshot Skeletons in the Closet mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,910 words - oneshot Small Talk teen - no warnings apply - 8,944 words - 6 chapters (unfinished)

putting all three of these together because i believe(?) they're all part of the same narrative

[yccoffeesimp]

𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝘿𝙖𝙣 𝙃𝙚𝙣𝙜

Gender-neutral reader, maybe a bit ooc.

Dan Heng, a guard upon the Astral Express and the archivist. Known for his rather cold and reserved demeanor, no one would've expected him to act like this.

Not even himself.For someone who has traveled countless times with his past looming over his shoulder, you can imagine how much of a burden it all was to carry. The burden of his past mistakes as Dan Feng and the constant reminders of them from his dreams. It all weighed on him all at once. That's why when you called him by his name now, he felt something in him. Something he never felt before. It was so rare to find anyone that would recognize him for himself now.

Even after everything at the Xianzhou Loufo, you saw him the same as ever. No matter the change, you never saw him any differently. That sparked something.

Every waking moment, he felt himself wish to be within your company. At first, anyone would have guessed it was nothing. Even Dan Heng himself was oblivious to it. It was a simple change of behavior, one that could easily go unnoticed. However, it slowly grew into him only wanting him to be beside you on missions.

To the point where he would seem annoyed and agitated when March or the Trailblazer even mentioned joining you. Sometimes he would compromise their safety just to get you alone. Welt was the first to recognize this behavior and lectured him about doing that. It was at this moment that Dan Heng saw his actions and how unhealthy they were.

Normally, Dan Heng would pay attention and apologize for his actions to his friends. And he did that. He apologized to his friends, and after careful consideration, he began trying to distance himself from you. It worked for some time...That was a few weeks ago, he finally thought those urges and thoughts were gone. The vial and corrupted thoughts of taking you for himself and never letting anyone see or touch you... He was wrong oh so wrong. The problem worsened over time. He watched as you befriended and talked to others. It made his blood boil. The way they could make you smile and laugh. He can do that too.

What makes them so special? Whatever. He was trying to distance himself now. It didn't matter if you weren't with him, at least you were happy.

Those were the words he told himself to at least have some control. Besides, he trusted you'd always go back to him. After all, both of you were so close. So close in fact, he let you touch his horns before. Right? Dan Heng isn't rough like Blade. Or as manipulative as Jing Yuan. The right term would be troubled. He would never truly act out his thoughts. When he did it nearly cost his two friends' lives.Never again. The fact he even thinks of such makes him sick to his stomach. Yet he can't help it. Something in him just wants you. All of you. Never leave his side, all your attention, touch, love, and words would be on him. No matter the cost. But he can't bring himself to do it. Not to the others. And never to you.He's aware you have goals and dreams. All are so passionate, he hopes one day you reach them. Even if it meant he wasn't there. Such a thought feels like a million stabs to the guy though.

Nicknames: n/n

___________________________________________

It was the end of the trip to Penacony. Dan Heng sat in a chair that was in the archives. A small tablet in hand, sorting and documenting files from the Planet of Festivities. A light blue light radiates from the screen, illuminating Dan Heng's features. They were the same as always. Cameo blue eyes, pale delicate skin, and black short hair. But under his eyes were gray bags from the lack of sleep. His dreams weren't pleasant. It wasn't due to chilling memories from Dan Feng or Blade's haunting message of him having to pay a price. They were graphic. Disturbing. Ones that made him nearly vomit when he woke up. Never will he ever write those dreams down. No one can know what happened to them.

No one can know the craving, the urge. He wouldn't be able to look at the Astral Express and you then. Blood covering his spear with only you and Dan Heng standing alone. The other's corpses were laid out on the floor. Finally alone with you. He would take one step forward to you before waking up in a cold sweat.

Dan Heng shook his head as his thoughts traced back to the dream. No.. He can't think about that now. He has work to do. As disturbing as the dream is, Dan Heng (regretfully) finds it to be a dream rather than a nightmare. The black-haired man then drags a document to one of the dreamscape files before there is a small knock on his door.

Morning already?

[devilishchaos]

you are on your period and Dominik takes care of you | Dominik Szoboszlai

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Dominik Szoboszlai

Summary: You get your period and Dominik takes care of you.

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"; nothing graphic I think but if .. let me know

AN: it's my first time writing for Dom x p.s. I love him so much in his national kit enjoy <3

Word Count: 755 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

It was the first time that you couldn’t go to Anfield to watch Dominik play, because you happened to get your period on the same day as his match. Dominik insisted on you staying home because he knew how bad your cramps can get so he tucked you in bed and left. You probably fell asleep because one minute you were watching your comfort show, and the next there’s a cold hand against your forehead, slowly stroking it. You groan out, delirious from sleep, opening up one eye you spy Dominik leaning over you, a lazy smile placed on his face. 

“Hey baby, how’re you feeling?” 

You groan again, this time a tad bit more dramatic. Small giggles leave his lips before he climbs into bed with you, then wrapping his arms around your body lightly. Snuggling into his side, a loud yawn leaves your lips. 

“Come on love, let’s go to the living room to eat.” 

Dominik gets up, rolling you around a little to wrap you up in the fluffy blankets. You laugh at this, loving the feeling of being in a blanket burrito while he lets out loud laughs himself. Your head hurts a little bit, but having his company again is helping, making you feel better already. 

His arms reach underneath you and he brings you up to his chest, lifting you from the bed slowly so as to not shove you around too much. You smile a bit, happy that your strong, extremely loving, sexy boyfriend is so willing to tote you around and take care of you when you’re feeling so shitty. 

Dominik strides through the hall and out to the living room. Leaning over a bit, he places you on your favorite side of the sofa. He appears in front of you, a bowl of soup in one hand and your filled up with water Stanley in the other. He sets them on the table in front of you as you unravel yourself from the blanket cocoon. He goes to the kitchen and comes back again, this time holding the package of medicine in his hand. You take it gratefully, ripping it open and swallowing a tablet before picking up the food as Dominik settles next to you. It smells so good, and you dig in quickly, you mumble out that it’s amazing, nearly scarfing down the whole bowl. He laughs at your antics, one hand rubbing at your back soothingly, his other hand goes for the remote, grabbing it and turning on your guyses favorite show before setting back against you. 

After finishing your food you set the bowl onto the table and you take a few gulps of water. You hadn’t realized how hungry and thirsty you were before your nap. Scooting back, Dominik opens his arms up fully and pulls you in closer. You snort lightly before leaning into him. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” he leans over a little and kisses your forehead, a soft peck of his lips against your flushed skin. It’s impossible not to be in love with him, he has such an unbelievably sweet soul. 

“It hurts.” 

“I know, baby. It’s going to get better.” Dominik moved his hand underneath your his hoodie and began caressing your bare stomach, knowing you loved it because the heat from his hand helped to soothe the pain a little bit. 

“Ughh..” you groaned in pain after feeling another painful cramp. 

“I know, love. I wish I could take away the pain. The medication will hit soon.” Dominik said, continuing to rub gentle circles on your stomach. 

You just closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep again, in hopes that when you wake up you will feel better. Dominik hates to see you in pain and wishes he could take the pain for himself instead of having you go through it. He saw how tired you became and continued to massage your stomach, after you fell asleep. He didn’t stop caressing it as he was worried the pain was still there and is still making you feel uncomfortable. 

*

After a while of just relaxing, Dominik felt you shifting in his arms and when he looked at you, you were already looking at him. 

“Hey, sleepyhead. Are you feeling better?” he said softly. 

“Yeah. All thanks to you, babe.” you smiled at him and kissed his cheek. 

“Anything for you, baby.” Dominik snuggled into your neck, leaving small kisses as you wrapped your arms around him and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair.

[call-me-strega]

How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: part 2 (chapter 1/?)

Here is part 1, lore

Edit: ao3 link now here

They do go to a library in this chapter so there are a lot of references to books in this chapter. I've read some but not all of them so I can say anything about their quality more than as things that I thought sounded interesting in theory. A lot of the stuff at the library was inspired by my own experiences with public libraries.

~~~

Step 2: Get to know them

Within the next 4 months Jason ran into Danny several more times. Each time becoming more and more enamored with the young man. It was hard not to when he saw how kind and hard-working he was.

~

The first time he ran into Danny after their first meeting he actually ran into Ellie first. Well, technically she ran into him but that's beside the point. But if you were gonna get technical about it he heard her little giggles before he saw her.

He had been at the library during some of his downtime to peruse some books and relax. The life of a vigilante crime lord isn't a very peaceful one, go figure. That's why Jason liked taking some time to himself every once in a while whether it was to have tea with Alfred, hang with one of his friends or siblings, or in this case visit Gotham Public Library.

Sure he could've gone to the Manor Library or gotten something online but the Manor was pretty far from the Alley and preferred having physical copies of his books rather than a computer or tablet. Electronics just didn't have that nostalgic book smell or the soft touch of a well-loved page.

Going to the library also came with its own perks. For one, he got to visit Barbie at work. It was always nice to see her as they had this unspoken solidarity between them. The atmosphere was also a plus. There was just something special about being able to be completely solitary yet still have this special connection to the other patrons. Seeing the old man enjoying a novel with his wife, the book club that met on Sundays, the haggard office worker winding down on the weekend with a graphic novel, the young woman teaching herself sign language, the teens goofing off while they were supposed to be studying, a mom reading The Kissing Hand to her kids, all of the various people here for various reasons; all of it made Jason feel like he was a part of something bigger.

He was currently browsing a display of LGBT+ books for young adults that the library had put up for Pride Month. '"Cemetery Boys", "Aristotle and Dante", "You Should See Me in a Crown", "Six of Crows", "Boyfriend Material", "Red, White, and Royal Blue", "Carry On", Oh- "The Song of Achilles" that sounds interesting?'

That’s when he felt a small chill pass behind him. He initially dismissed it as a draft from the air conditioner, but soon after he heard the sound of excited giggles nearby. He didn't think too much of it assuming it was another kid on their way out of the children's section. However, something niggled in the back of his head that this particular giggle was one he was familiar with.

That's when he felt something collide with his leg. He looked down to see a small child with a head of glossy black hair in a red beanie glomping his leg. Suddenly, the child looked up and beamed at him. Jason's eyes lit up with recognition and he laughed.

" Hey there munchkin, how are you?"

Ellie continued to smile, releasing her hold on his leg.

" I'm doing really good Mr. Jason! Daddy told me he didn't have any work today and he said we could go anywhere we wanted! First, we went to the bodega a got these really big breakfast sandwiches! Like really really big! Like the size of my face and we shared! And then Daddy took me to the park and it was really fun! I saw a squirrel there but it ran away before I could pet it! And then we came here and Daddy said we'd make me a library card so I could get whichever books I wanted. He read Oh The Places You Will Go and Where the Wild Things Are to me and then they were gonna have story time and Daddy looked tired from the park so I told him to read one of his space books and rest while I went to story time like a big girl! When story time was over I looked around and saw you so I came over to say hi and thank you for the cookies and food because daddy says we should always say thank you when people give us gifts!"

Damn, the girl sure had one hell of a motor mouth on her. It seemed she and Danny were in the middle of a father-daughter day. It brought a smile to his face to see that she was well taken care of, but based on her very informative rambles, it seemed they were taking care of each other.

" Why don't we go say hi to your dad, huh Elle?"

The young girl gasped, "That's a great idea! Then Daddy can say thank you too! And then you can read with us and come to our house for dinner! Daddy kept saying how he wanted to make something for you too since you made us the-, the- uuh... luz-on-ya and cookies!"

" Whoa there munchkin, how about we just start with hi?"

Ellie nodded with a determined look on her face, she wrapped her little hand around his pointer finger and pulled him along to the semi-secluded corner of the children's section. Sitting there in an armchair next to a small pile of books was Danny, who seemed to be out cold, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy slipping from his fingers.

'Aah he must be tired from moving in and probably from working too' Jason thought to himself. A smaller voice in the back of his chimed in with its own two cents. ' He still made time for her. He took her out and is spending the whole day with her even though he's tired. He's a good dad.' That's when he made up his mind not to disrupt Danny's nap and let him get some rest before he had to tackle the rest of his father-daughter day with his hyperactive six-year-old. He placed a hand on Ellie's shoulder, stopping her as she was about to shake Danny awake, and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

" It looks like you were right about your dad being tired. How about we let him rest for now and I'll say hi another time? Besides I wouldn't want to interrupt your daddy-daughter day now would I?" He started to guide her to a different portion of the library quickly forming a plan, "Hows' bout we do something I think you'll like? Did you know sometimes they bring puppies and kitties into the library?"

The young girl gasped, " REALLY!"

" Yeah, sometimes puppies and kitties can help people who are feeling sad or nervous feel better. They also help teach kids how to act nicely and quietly so that they don't scare animals by letting them read to a puppy or kitty. I can help you sign up to read to a puppy or kitty today if you want? Then afterward, you can go tell your dad and he'll be really proud of you."

The young girl seemed so excited by the prospect that Jason worried for a second that she might explode.

" That's a great idea Mr. Jason! He'll be so proud of me and he'll bring me again! And I'll get so good at not scaring animals that the squirrels in the park will let me pet them! Then, Daddy will be so impressed that he'll let us get our own puppy and Cujo can come live with us!"

Jason winced, perhaps his plan had been a tad too effective. Single parents had a hard enough time keep themselves afloat while looking after their kids, a pet was extra expenses and another commitment to devote time and effort to. Pets were usually out of budget and out of question for anyone living in or near the Alley.

Well, he'd cross that bridge if he ever got to it. For now, he focused on getting Ellie signed up to read to Charlie, the old St. Bernard that was at the library this today. He and the trainer, he squinted reading her name tag, Amanda, supervised the session. Jason would be lying if he wasn't endeared by the sight of a young girl reading Dragons Love Tacos very enthusiastically to a dog nearly twice her size.

" It's nice to see a young father spending time with his daughter."

'I agree' Jason thought before realizing Amanda thought he was Ellie's dad.

" Oh- ah no I'm her -," Jason quickly made up his mind on the least creepy excuse he could find, " -babysitter. Although, her father does make a lot of effort spend time with her."

The dog trainer flushed and apologized for her mistake but Jason waved her off saying it was no big deal. Silently, he wondered how often Danny got time to himself. When he realized what he was thinking he raised an eyebrow at himself before dismissing it as worry for a young parent and wondering how he divided his time to be able to take such good care of his daughter.

Ellie was saying her final goodbyes to Charlie when he got a text from Alfred reminding him he had promised to meet him for tea and some chitchat. Once Ellie returned to his side he let her know that he had had fun seeing her today but that he had to go spend some time with his granddad and that he'd have to say hi to her dad another time. She accepted this with a surprising amount of maturity for a 6-year-old but made him pinky-promise that he'd definitely spend some time with the both of them next time they saw each other. Jason happily accepted and sent her back off to her dad before heading over to the tea shop he and Alfred liked to meet at.

" It is so nice to see you again Master Jason. I'm happy to see arrive in one piece. Usually when you are delayed it is due to some rather -ah, unfortunate hold-ups," Alfred greeted him. He returned the smile, sinking into his seat across from Alfred, ready to unload.

" Not this time Alfie, though it is a bit of a story."

" One I'm sure you'll be pleased to tell me all about," he challenged, raising an eyebrow. Jason just shook his head and chuckled.

" Sure thing Alfie."

~

The next time he ran into Danny and Ellie he was at the grocery store.

Jason had been examining a piece of zucchini when he felt a light, cool breeze quickly followed by the sensation of someone walking past him. A lean figure came and stood nearby inspecting the squash. Jason glanced up, having registered a new presence, before doing a double take. A small grin graced his lips as he spoke,

" Well hey there neighbor, didn't expect to see you today."

Danny looked up, slightly startled before he saw that it was Jason. He smiled back and returned his greeting in a warm tone.

" Hey neighbor, I didn't expect to see you either. Honestly, I was hoping we wouldn't meet till I had made a batch of my family's signature fudge to give you as a thank you when we returned your dishes for the food and for looking after Ellie that day in the library."

" Ah~ the little munchkin told you bout that did she?"

" She was pleased to inform me about how she was learning not to scare animals and how Mr. Jason was sooo nice and even pinky promised to spend some more time with her." he teased.

Jason flushed slightly, his hand coming up to the back of his neck,

" Oh yeah, I hope I didn't overstep my bounds there. She just seemed so excited."

" Yeah, that sounds like my little spitfire!" he chuckled fondly. He took a deep breath and continued. " Well if you don't have anything else going on tonight I'd love to have you over. Ellie has really been looking forward to seeing you again and I can whip up some fudge that you can take home with you if you stay for dinner?" Danny seemed to flush at his own forwardness before rushing to continue, " I mean- not that you have to, especially if you're busy! I just- thought it might be nice to get to know my neighbor, especially since Ellie seems to like you so much! But-"

Jason, who had just finished processing the dinner invite, interrupted before Danny spiraled deeper into his nervous rambles. He place a hand on Danny's shoulder to get his attention and spoke,

" Sure. I'd love to come over Danny." He smiled, puffing up his chest, “ Besides, I have a pinky promise to fulfill.”

Danny returned his smile with a laugh, giving Jason's shoulder an embarrassed shove. Jason grinned at having successfully made the other laugh. The two stared at each other for a beat, coming down from their high of making each other laugh, before flushing and looking away. A look of realization passed over Danny's face and he turned to speak to Jason again.

" You probably have your own groceries to finish and put away. How about you come over around 7:30? I can have the fudge cooling in the fridge while we eat, oh which reminds me, you’re not allergic to anything are you?"

Jason smiled back. "7:30 sounds great Danny and no, no allergies as far as I’m aware, though I’m not particularly fond of most shellfish."

“Well alrighty then I’ll see you at 7:30,” Danny confirmed with a smile and rushed off to continue his own shopping.

And that’s how Jason found himself standing outside the Nightingale residence in a casual maroon 3/4 sleeve tee, a dark denim jacket, and some of his nicer trousers with a bouquet of flowers he put a frankly embarrassing amount of thought into. He figured bringing more food wouldn’t be appropriate since he was a dinner guest, dessert wouldn’t fly either as Danny had claimed he’d be making fudge, and wine didn’t seem appropriate with a 6-year-old also in attendance.

‘Come on Jason, it’s just a casual dinner with your neighbors! Normal human interaction, nothing to be nervous about! You can do this!’

Jason took a breath and knocked on the door. He heard a pitched squee followed by a “it’s him daddy!” come from behind the door. Unconsciously, Jason smiled as he heard the door unlocking. As it opened he was met with a cool breeze from within the apartment and the sight of his two neighbors. Danny was in a pale, moss green apron, smudged with what appeared to be powdered sugar, over a pale blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and cuffed jeans. Ellie was dressed in an interesting combo of pink crocs, neon green leggings, a sparkly, powder blue tutu, a white shirt with glittery black script declaring her “Daddy’s little princess”, a denim jacket embroidered with flowers and vines on the back and sleeves, and a plastic tiara with a big purple gem in the middle fixed atop her signature red beanie.

“Hi,” Danny greeted a bit breathlessly. His young daughter stood in front of him beaming up at Jason.

“ Mr. Jason you came!” She bounced excitedly on her heels before launching forward to hug his leg. She tugged at his jacket before pointing to her own, “Look! We match!”

With a smile, Jason got down on one knee and offered the flowers to her, “ And what an honor it is to match with such a beautiful princess! Please, accept these flowers as a token of my goodwill m’lady!”

“Thank you!” The girl giggled, accepting the bouquet and scurrying back into the apartment. Jason watched her go with a smile. He then turned his gaze to look up at Danny who watched the whole interaction with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He met Jason’s gaze and smiled.

“Why don’t you come in too my good sir,” he teased, holding out his hand to help Jason up. Jason smirked at the opportunity Danny had unknowingly presented him. He took Danny’s hand but made no move to get up. Instead, he ran his thumb over the other man’s knuckles and slowly brought the hand closer to his face. He glanced up once more, teal eyes connecting to icy blue ones.

“Of course my dear king,” he whispered. His breath dancing over Danny’s hand, his lips ghosting over his knuckles. Maintaining eye contact, the kneeling man placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles, watching a beautiful red flush bloom upon the young man’s face.

‘His hand is cold. His fingers have the beginnings of callouses on them. It feels like his hand was made to fit in mine. This feels right’

Jason is snapped out of his reverie when Danny clears his throat. He coughs into his other hand while trying to hide his blush, averting his eyes in embarrassment. He doesn't withdraw his hand however, allowing Jason to continue to hold it. Jason took that as his sign to get up before this got too awkward.

He rose from the ground still not letting go of the other's hand. The pair stood there for a moment with their hands intertwined, as if a message was being passed through their tingling palms. A charge filled the air with an exhilarating tension. The kind you feel before trying something unfamiliar and new that, unbeknownst to you, will become your favorite.

“So, uh, let’s head in then?” Danny said, slowly withdrawing his hand from Jason’s, almost as if he was reluctant to do so.

“Let’s,” Jason replied and the two turned into the apartment.

Danny had Ellie show Jason to the bathroom so he could wash up as he set the table. He had made grilled squash, a macaroni and beef hotdish, and some Greek salad on the side. The three of them sat at the table making some small talk ( how are they liking it in Gotham, how did the rest of daddy-daughter day go, does Jason have restaurant/activity recommendations, would he like to see Ellie’s favorite model airplane, etc.) and laughing with each other over horrible dad jokes and Ellie’s antics.

Jason could feel his chest fill with an almost unbearable warmth. He would’ve sworn it’d have melted him from the inside out if it hadn’t been accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of joy and desire. The traitorous little whisper in his head returned to comment on how much he’d love to be a part of the Nightingale’s family.

Soon enough it was time for Ellie to head to bed and Jason to head out, lest he be late for patrol.

“Here, I can clear off the table while you put her to bed.”

Danny rushed to stop him despite the young child koala wrapped over his torso. “Oh, you really don’t have to do that. I can-”

“Relax your highness, let me take care of this while you put the princess to bed.” He gave Danny a kind look, hefting up the dirty dishes. Danny returned it with a grateful look and turned to go put his daughter to bed. Over his shoulder, Ellie looked up sleepily and weakly waved one last time saying “Goodnight Mr.Jason” in a small voice.

Jason smiled gently at her and replied, “Goodnight princess.”

He then turned back to his task of clearing the table. Moving the dirty dishes to the sink and the serving dishes to the counter. He figured he’d get started on the dishes while he waited for Danny to return. He let his mind wander as he covered a plate with soapy suds. Danny and Ellie seemed like a good pair of neighbors. He doubted they’d cause him any trouble and if they ever unintentionally did, Jason found himself thinking he’d find it rather easy to forgive them. The two were both so welcoming and full of life. They made Jason feel so happy and peaceful tonight. They welcomed him into their home and made him feel as if they enjoyed his company and wanted him around for more than just a cursory “return the favor” dinner. ‘As If he belongs there. With them.’ The little voice returned, prompting Jason to reel in his thoughts. He’s only known them for what? Two weeks? These weren’t the type of thoughts he should be having at this point. He tried to rationalize it telling himself he just missed the domesticity of family dinners like he had when Catherine was in a good stretch or like he had with Bruce, Dick, and Alfred as kid when they were all getting along. He made up his mind to attend one of the bi-weekly family dinners at the manor coming up. It’d be nice to see the little demon brat, big bird, and nerd bird again now that they were getting along like actual brothers.

“Oh! Jason you didn��t have to do that!” His train of thought broken by Danny rushing over to protest him doing dishes. “You’re a guest! You really didn’t have to-”

“It’s okay Danny, I wanted to,” he reassured the fussing young man who pulled him away from the sink. The young man responded by pushing him out of the kitchen and telling him to grab his jacket before turning back to grab something from the fridge.

And there he stood in the doorway, 20 minutes after he had intended to leave, still saying goodbye. Danny pushed a familiar Tupperware container into his hands, which recognized as the one he had given them lasagna in, now full of dark squares of fudge sprinkled with a bit of white and green on top.

Danny smiled as he handed him the sweets. “A family recipe with my own little twist on it,” he winked. Jason gratefully accepted, wishing the young man well and agreeing that he hoped to see the other again soon. And with that, Jason rushed off hoping that he wouldn’t be late for patrol.

~ Later that night Jason returned to his apartment, exhausted. He chucked his helmet off onto the bed and stumbled to his kitchen. He pulled open the fridge in search of something to eat when his eyes landed on the fudge his neighbor had given him. He pulled it out and grabbed a square, giving it a sniff before biting in. His eyes widened at the taste.

The fudge was, well fudgy, but not overly sweet. It had a richness of dark chocolate and a sweeter note from the white chocolate chips mixed in. There were also candied orange peels mixed into it which gave the fudge a bit of chew and acidity to break up the richness. The fudge was topped with pistachios adding a nutty, earthy flavor to the experience. He’s sure that if Martian Manhunter ever tried these he’d accuse Jason of giving him hard drugs. But what Jason liked most of all was the quality only homemade food and family recipes passed down over generations have. He could practically taste the amount of love and thought that went into this fudge.

Jason smiled to himself finishing off his square and decided the save the rest for later. He headed off to bed with a peaceful smile on his face and a warm, full, feeling in his chest.

~~~

I tried very hard to balance out the dialogue and description as well as to not make it too long winded and keep the story moving so please let me know what you guys think. I love receiving feedback so if there is anything you want to see more or less of let me know. I’m also open to suggestions of where Jason should run into our father-daughter pair next.

If anyone's interested here is what the bouquet was comprised of: apple blossom- preference, basil- good wishes, white camellia- you're adorable, goldenrod- encouragement/good fortune, violets- watchfulness/modesty/faithfulness

I actually looked up a real fudge recipe so that I'd have and easier time describing it. You can find it here: https://www.midwestliving.com/recipe/candy/creamy-rich-pistachio-tangerine-fudge

[lfnr-blog-blog-blog]

Blooms of Spring

Hi I guess I am back from the dead, maybe? Like a reannimated corpse. Gif tagged from my BESTIE @flordeamatista

No beta, I am a giant chicken and if I dont post this now it wont happen. TW: mentions of blood, death, angsty, some heart break. you know me, gotta make you sad, no happy endings here.

~800 words.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The night ended with the slamming of a door, blood soaking the floor. A ring and a question unasked. 

You felt your heart break as you walked away from the love of your life. The rain soaking your dress- one of many gifts from him. Seeing that side of him had shocked you. The man behind the mask: The Winter Soldier. 

Your love story had started out like any other, a cup of coffee spilled in a lap. The instant sparkle in his eye as he helped save your tablet and papers from their caffeinated death. A whirlwind of emotions that lead to tonight. The simple things, flowers at your desk, your very own office in his massive home, his men delivering packages and meals even if he was away. 

The months you had spent with him flew past, making you breathless. Knowing this was the man you wanted to marry made it easier to reconcile with the job he had. After all, running the largest crime syndicate on the East Coast allowed you both a lot of liberties, parties and meals and most of all, time. Yes, he was busy but he was never too busy for you. Until tonight. 

You worked in your office in his home, wanting to finish this final project before you left on vacation the next day, after the party tonight. Lounging in your sundress before getting ready. Hearing the preparations happening downstairs had you chomping at the bit to get ready, but waiting for the team he always had came in to pamper you before an event. 

You grab your water from the desk along with your phone and your design tablet to go to the couch, curling under the soft fabric of the newest blanket you had found at the store earlier in the week. Glass shatters around your desk, stunning you, turning your body to stone. A figure in a dark tactical suit pulls you into their arms, shoving your phone into your hand. “Call him” the voice says, “Calmly or I will put a bullet in your spine.”  Pushing something cold and heavy into your back. 

With shaky hands you push his name on the screen, looking at the picture of the two of you laughing on the Ferris wheel, putting it on speaker. “Blossom, I am a little busy right now, I will call you in a minute.” The click of the line resonates in your heart. A nail in the coffin. 

The promises Bucky made all going down the drain, that he would always be there for you. The promise that he would never ignore you. Gone. Just like you were about to be. 

The hours pass in slow motion, the waiting, the blood dripping down your arm, the puddle slowly getting bigger, one drop at a time. The thunder making you jump with every pass, the lightning illuminating the knife in the man in black hands.  Waiting for Bucky to appear, the taunting of the man you’ve come to know as Rumlow, slowly making you crazier. Promises of the pain and torment to come. The regrets of all the silly demands on Bucky’s time that you have ever made, trips to the store, and the time he killed the spider in your apartment. The one time you TRULY need him, breaking your heart and your trust. 

A flash and bang throws you to the floor, your knees taking the brunt of the fall. Smoke filling the room, Bucky grabbing Rumlow, the two fighting for dominance, Bucky coming out on top, and the blank stare in his eyes as he looks past you. On the floor, sobbing, and the box falls to the ground in front of you. He steps over you, leaving the sound of your heart breaking, you screaming his name, all being drowned by the intensity of the storm raging outside. 

Steve pulls you off the floor, leading you to the other room, and bandaging the cut on your bicep. Going to the bedroom you find your bag, the planned vacation long gone, picking up the ring box from the ground you open it, throwing it into the blood on the floor. 

You slam the door to the massive home, just a suitcase and a bandage soaked in blood, ears ringing, and questions without answers. The blooms along the driveway are being pelted by the storm, ruining the blossoms of spring, how apt.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Dick raised an eyebrow, “A power point?”

The boy nodded, and quickly took a tablet out of his backpack and turned it on. He showed Dick the screen: in bright colors and with rather professional graphics (what were they teaching the children now?) In the center was the words GOTHAM NEEDS ROBIN MORE THAN BATMAN – A PRESENTATION OF TIMOTHY DRAKE.

“What the…” he stopped, remembering that in front of him was a very small and very impressionable child. So, trying to sound like a semi-adult, he asked, “It looks very nice, but why did you come to me to show it to me?”

“Because you're Robin, duh,” Timothy replied, giving the boy a heart attack.

Dick tried to laugh, “Thanks for the compliment. Robin is great and all, but I'm not him.”

“So how do you explain Robin being able to do a quadruple somersault? There are only three people in the world who can do this, two are in Europe, and the other is you.”

“Maybe Robin trained a lot and didn't register. It can happen,” he lied.

“How do you explain that since you came to New York, Robin is no longer seen on the streets of Gotham and a new vigilante has appeared?” Timothy pressed him.

“Maybe Robin is dead?”

“No, otherwise Batman would have destroyed the city.”

"Batman doesn't care about Robin," Dick spat, the underlying animosity kicking its way out.

Bruce had made it clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore by taking Robin away from him and not trying to contact him. Dick was just paying it back, really.

He didn't hurt. Not at all'.

“He cares! A lot! Since Robin has been around, he has become less reckless. He has become disciplined. Having Robin around gave him someone to collaborate with and depend on him. Besides…” he trailed off, and looked crestfallen, “This isn't how my presentation was supposed to go. I had prepared it better.”

READ MORE One day, fate knocked on the door

[captainknell]

BOOK REPORT

Napoleon's Rosebud by Humphrey Knipe

So I came across this book when one of my kids found it on his tablet on Kindle and brought it to my attention. I ordered the physical copy (I don't do well with audio books and prefer real paper copies) and I just got around to reading it.

Some preliminary info: when I googled the author, Humphry Knipe, he appeared to me as a shirtless man who is an adult film writer. Immediately I was scared and questioned ordering this book! Also, the main character, Charlotte Knipe, aka Rosebud, was the author's great-great-grandaunt. So I was afraid this was a porno about his ancestor. To my relief, it was not like that at all. (Yes, there were references and sex scenes but it didn't go into detail at all, just basically saying that they occurred. Surprisingly, Napoleon's Elysium was much more graphic.)

Anyways, the plot. Napoleon meets a girl on St. Helena when he arrives, and gives her the nickname of Rosebud. She is engaged to a man who is away in England. Napoleon uses her to smuggle letters but actually he is planting them so that Hudson Lowe can read them. There are a lot of people in on the plot but it seems that none of them know Napoleon's true or full intent, that his letters were meant to be read.

The characters. Napoleon didn't seem to be very in character to me. Idk. I'm not sure about some of the other characters like Rosebud and her fiance and her friends and family, as I have never heard them mentioned before but supposedly this story is true.

*SPOLIER ALERT*

Basically, Napoleon uses Rosebud to make Lowe mad and get a laugh. He tricks her into thinking her fiance is a traitor so he can have sex with her and then tells her the truth and she goes and marries her fiance. It was pretty weird. *Shrugs*

[suzy-queued]

ART TAG

Tagged by Molly @deathclassic. So fun to learn more about our artists!

Have you always been interested in creating art? Yeah! My grandmother and aunt are/were professional artists. It feels like the family trade.

What's your favorite medium to use? If digital, what programs do you like? My favorite is spray paint and pastel, no question. But due to time/ease constraints, almost all of my fandom art has been done on a tablet using Sketchbook (with some finishing touches in Photoshop).

Do you create outside of fandom? Yes, although these days my output is heavily skewed toward Gallavich.

Share something you haven't finished and/or never got around to posting. As long as you promise not to laugh! I dabble in animation, but I never get very far. Here is a rough concept of an animated piece.

Favorite piece you've made? Like, ever? That's tough. Here are two pieces that I enjoy a lot:

Draw your icon in a minute or less

An underrated piece you've made in your opinion This piece for Kinktober 2023 made me really happy. It's the closest I've been able to get to a true pastel feel on my tablet.

Do you do art in a professional setting? Yes. I do book covers, and I'm a graphic/web designer. Logo designs, all kinds of stuff.

A piece you don't like but did really well on social media. Nah, I'm pretty okay with the balance of quality versus engagement.

Post an old piece and compare it to your most recent, what are the similarities? Here's the first piece I ever did on my tablet, when I was learning the tools, versus the cover for Then & Now:

Similarities? Ian's pouty lip. The textures within the color areas. Joyful light and shadows.

Have you ever collaborated with another artist/s? My family likes to play Exquisite Corpse. Does that count?

What piece has the most notes? Are you surprised?

Prison? Dominance? Freckles? What's not to love!

Who/What is your favorite subject matter? These days, it's Gallavich. But naturally, I tend to gravitate away from drawing people's faces. It's been a real learning curve for me trying to make these boys look like recognizable humans. I generally draw dark/spooky stuff.

Show us something not from fandom you've made Here are two books covers I've done for my husband (both made with spray paint/acrylic/pastel).

Where do you like to create? At the work table in my basement. With an electric blanket over my lap.

Do you have a tag that you use to group your creations? Tell us so people can follow it. gallavich fan art

Give yourself a shoutout, where can we commission/buy/follow you for more pieces? You can follow my art on AO3. I have a few galleries: My Gallavich Art A.U.gust 2023 Gallery Gallavich Kinktober 2022 Collection

I'll tag these lovely artists (sorry of there are any repeats of Molly's tags): @gallapiech @sweetperversiongirl @deedala @michellemisfit @doshiart

@crossmydna @darthvaders-wife @heymrspatel @spookygingerr @filorux

[cowboyemeritus]

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist

Summary: Copia, for some reason, decides to pamper you a bit. (18+)

Content Warning: smut, graphic violence, minor character death

Read on AO3

Notes: Alright, we’re doing this. I’m taking the plunge and making this into a series. There definitely won’t be a set schedule for updates because of how my life works, so we’ll just have to see where this goes. I might also want to do oneshots/drabbles between chapters so I don’t get burnt out (*wink wink*). Feedback is always welcome!

Darkness. Boots thumping like your tiny heart. Through the slats in the closet door, you can just barely see them; four pairs of legs surrounding Daddy, who’s on his knees.

“Please, man,” he begs. “I can get the money, but you gotta give me more ti-“ One of the figures kicks him hard in the chest and he falls back, slamming into the wall. Someone scoffs as he sputters and wheezes. Your eyes begin to sting with tears, but you do as you’re told and keep quiet.

“I do not think you understand, man,” the kicker snarls. There’s a strange quality to his voice you can’t quite place. “You owe us. You are in no place to negotiate.” Daddy’s face twists with anger.

“It’s not my fault the deal didn’t work out!” The man laughs, but there is no joy in it. It’s blood-curdling.

“You think you are clever? That we would not find out about you pilfering our product for your own use? And now you lie to me?” He’s nearly screaming by the end. Daddy looks scared, and presses himself further into the wall.

“Look- Please, I’ve got a daughter. You can’t-”

“We are done here.”

One of the other men grabs Daddy by the hair, wrenching his head back. The silver blade of a knife flashes as it enters your field of view. Before you can even blink it plunges into his neck with a squelch. You want to scream, to throw up, but nothing comes out. The tears in your eyes spill over, hot on your cheeks. The blade is yanked out and blood begins to pour from the wound in Daddy’s neck, soaking into his shirt. He gurgles, a trickle of red running out of the corner of his mouth. The man lets go of his hair and he drops to the floor, twitching. His head is turned towards the closet, eyes meeting yours. For a moment, they are filled with a deep, primordial fear, and then nothing.

“Kid must be around here somewhere,” one of the men says. You feel your chest constrict, and clamp your hands over your mouth to keep yourself from breathing.

“Do not bother,” the man with the strange voice says. “We have more important things to worry about.”

You wake up in a world of hurt.

That’s not unusual. What’s a little weird is that you’re laying on the plush couch in Copia’s living room, a knitted blanket draped over your body. He normally has you taken to your apartment after fights. You remember falling asleep in the car, Copia insisting you rest your head in his lap. One of his minions must have carried you inside.

Did something happen while you were asleep? It’s not uncommon for things to go south after these events, whether it be the authorities catching wind of the operation or issues with an unhappy customer. There have been times where you’ve had to lay low for days, even weeks.

There’s humming coming from the kitchen. Copia, it seems, is alright at least. Your body groans in protest as you sit up, head throbbing. It feels like your tight braids are pulling the skin on your forehead clean off. Your mouth feels like it’s full of sand. On the coffee table, a glass of water and some pills catch your eye. You grab the water and gulp it down greedily, taking the suspicious-looking tablets in hand. As you saunter over to the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of yourself reflected in one of the large living room windows. The bruising has settled under your eyes in dark purple rings. There’s swelling around your broken nose, too, and pink welts decorate the rest of your face. One could easily mistake you for a zombie in this state. Based on the way you’re feeling, you may not be that far off.

You find Copia hovering over a pot, obsessively stirring some sort of sauce. It takes him a moment to notice you standing there.

“What are these,” you ask, holding out the pills for him to see. He gives you a confused look.

“Ibuprofen? What- Dolcezza, what did you think they were?”

You shrug. “From your brother.” Copia blinks, then shakes his head.

“Oh. No.”

Without further question, you pop the pills in your mouth. You have to step around Copia to get to the sink, refilling your glass and taking another swig. The cool water is like mana from heaven.

“Something go down?”

“Not at all. I thought we could, eh, celebrate your victory together.”

He dicked you down, AND he’s making you dinner? Tonight can’t get any better.

You know he has an ulterior motive of some kind, but choose not to question it for the time being. He adds a pinch of salt to the pot and stirs. With a spoon, Copia scoops up a bit of the sauce, gently blows on it, and then offers it to you. You can only sort of taste it with your nose plugged up, but nod in approval anyway. Copia made it; you already know it’s good.

After a quiet dinner, punctuated by the occasional comment from Copia about the fight, he’s able to lure you into his large, luxurious bathtub. The lights in the bathroom are low, a few lit candles providing some extra visibility. Smarmy Italian music plays from a portable speaker on the counter. After all the time you’ve spent with Copia, you recognize most of the songs on the playlist, though you don’t know the lyrics. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the thought that, knowing him, they’re probably all love songs.

The warm, soapy water does wonders for your aching muscles, and you find yourself leaning against his bare chest, eyes closed, as he massages an herbal-smelling shampoo into your scalp. Maybe it’s the wine you had with dinner, but his fingers are like magic. When he passes over a spot near the nape of your neck, a groan involuntarily slips out from between your lips.

“Feels good, dolcezza?” You nod silently, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. Copia chuckles, withdrawing. For a few tranquil moments, you lose yourself in the warmth enveloping your battered form. The veil of sleep begins to slip over you, your mind wandering into the realm of unconsciousness. When Copia’s hands dip below the surface of the water, the sound barely registers. Once he starts gently caressing your breasts, however, your eyes crack open. Already, a different kind of heat is pooling in your gut.

Copia presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh. Without a doubt, he intends to leave yet another bruise on your body. You shudder, a groan rumbling in your throat. He gives your chest a squeeze and you can’t help but wriggle against him, feeling him hard against your back. With an unusual boldness, your hand snakes into the crevice between your bodies, grasping at his erection and giving it a few pumps. The angle is awkward and you can feel your shoulder protest, but when Copia moans quietly in your ear none of that matters. Your whole arm could snap off for all you care. He pinches your nipples hard and you gasp audibly, giving his cock a similarly firm squeeze.

“Oh, baby.” He’s never called you that before. Something about it sends you into a frenzy. Shifting, you sit up and turn to face Copia, kneeling between his parted legs, the soapy water sloshing around you. Grasping his manhood, you begin stroking him vigorously, hungry for every sound you can pull out of him. He throws his head back and you feel his hips buck into your touch. “Fuck.”

You want to devour him, to bury your teeth in his flesh and leave your own claiming mark. You know he’ll stop you before you can even try, but the desire lingers. Instead, you surge forward, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. You have to turn your head at an awkward angle to avoid crushing your nose, knowing your neck will be stiff in the morning. One of his hands finds your core, rubbing your clit in frantic circles, while the other palms at your breast.

An unfathomable amount of time passes like this. You are lost in the feeling of him, and in a moment of pure, unhinged delirium, you bite down on his lower lip. Copia completely falls apart, his cock kicking as he finds his release. There’s a tangy, metallic taste in your mouth, and when he pulls away you can see the tiniest red bulb on his lip. You’re so fixated on it that you don’t realize you’re still stroking him until he hisses, grabbing your wrist.

“Alright,” he laughs, chest heaving. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Some time later, you’re laying in Copia’s bed under buttery-soft sheets. He’s spooning you, one hand on your hip as his thumb traces circles into the flesh. It’s dark and quiet, both of you seemingly lost in thought. You feel featherlight, loose and floaty from the climax he has just pulled out of you. Your heart beats a little faster recalling the way he looked up at you from between your parted legs, a tenderness in his eyes you haven’t seen from him before. For the first time in… you’re not sure how long, you feel something that resembles contentment. It’s a foreign sensation, warm and fuzzy in your chest like the dying embers of a fire.

Suddenly, Copia rolls onto his back, groaning. You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question.

“My father,” he reveals, draping his arm over his eyes. “I have to meet with him tomorrow.”

So he needed a distraction.

You say nothing, lowering yourself back down. The fuzziness you had earlier is now gone, replaced by a dull sinking in your chest. You close your eyes and try to fall asleep but can’t, stuck on this evening’s events and what exactly this man’s game is.

Once you’re certain Copia is asleep, you sneak back to the couch.

[britt-kageryuu]

Leo in another bout(bought?) of boredom, is streaming from the clinic again. His model dressed in galaxy print scrubs, blue crocs, lab coat with some random pins on the pocket, and his Bandana with the tails tied up to not get in the way.

The camera is following him as he moves about the reception area. Rambling off about different topics, every now and then answering a question sent in by the audience and chat.

A graphic of a cartoony Aligator Snapping Turtle swims past dragging a banner that Thanks 'Chompy' for $5 with a message 'You changed how you did things awhile ago, while it was subtle I still want to know why did you change?'

Leo pauses to stare right into the camera, like his brain stopped working, or was overworking itself to word the answer.

"Okay, so I didn't really think anyone had truly noticed. Not to say you guys are oblivious, just I didn't think I would have to explain this." He shifts while looking around the room, "So to those who might've not been here then, or watched the VODs... I originally went into this VTuber stuff as a BFE type. And for those who don't know what that means, Boy Friend Experience."

Leo takes a deep breath before continuing, "See, I didn't know what I was going to do for this, so I kinda copied the BFE type that I saw clips of, so flirting with the audience, pretending to be in love with the audience... that kind of thing. Then I got an actual crush, who became my boyfriend and it just felt awkward to keep that up." He walks over to his desk while talking, and sat down, "So I shifted my way of talking to you guys, and from there just left the flirty tone to when I'm around Thumper. Much to my siblings annoyance."

He lets out a laugh while shaking his head. "Though my usual way of talking is crafted to make you feel relaxed, less tense, and get people to listen to what I want to tell them." Leo gives the camera a smirk, "I used to call myself the 'Face Man' of the group, so I always tried to be a smooth talker, right up until I put my foot in my mouth, and told my Boyfriend I thought he dyed his hair... his hair is naturally white. I didn't believe him. I still don't get how I convinced him to date me!"

Leo has slumped in his chair with embarrassment, he looked about ready to fall out of his chair when the sound of a door opening could be heard. He sits up and faces the door. He mutes the camera mic, but not his.

"Hello, what can I do for ya today?" Pause to listen to who ever entered, "Okay, let me check." He grabs the work tablet and checks for something, "Well you're in luck. There's no one scheduled for the next few hours. So let's get you checked in. Oh give me a minute." Leo pulls out his phone to see if there's anyone to take over the stream, or if not what he should put on for the stream to watch.

"Hmm? Oh yeah... the schedule is very empty, and no one else was scheduled to work today, so I was live streaming... nothing really." The notification on his phone goes off. "And the stream will be watching a few meme compilations. So to the veiwers, enjoy the memes, and I'll be back in a bit!"

The stream cuts to a meme compilation of clips from different VTurtles! VODs and some from the Discord and Social Media. With a BRB sign propped up by River.

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

Masterpost

Not much to say other than, no patient trying to sneak into the stream this time.