#had i not known any better i would have thought them both orange cats

[enkopan]

rp memes with a friend

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Smut under the cut!

C/W for consensual biting and blood.

For as long as Lambert had known him, Aiden had always taken great pains to keep his nails short, filing them down habitually (the Mutagens making them too tough to cut). His first thought was that it was a vanity of the others. It made sense to look after their hands afterall, but the only people Lambert had ever known to be that meticulous about nail care specifically were nobles who’d never done a days manual labour in their lives and acted like it was the end of the world if one broke.

It was only when they became better acquainted and Lambert gained a passing knowledge of the nature of Cat Mutagens ( or at least, the ones which applied to Aiden’s class) he’d realised that his Kitten had claws in the very literal sense and this routine was borne of a desire of Aiden’s not only to erase another reminder of his ‘otherness’ , but to not create anymore holes in his belongings or leave himself or anyone he got close to covered in scratches (they didn’t talk about the time he lost his file and had to substitute tree trunks. Lambert had found himself face down in the mud after one too many scratching post jabs and had bought him a new one as an apology).

“I don’t know why you don’t just leave them alone. So you’ve got sharper than average nails, big deal.” Lambert muttered from where he was on his bedroll after checking through their supplies – the next town over had a pretty decent apothecary who wasn’t prejudice towards Witchers so it was the perfect opportunity to stock up on any potion ingredients.

“I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve had this conversation so I’ll shorten the answer to one word. Convenience.” Aiden answered as he slid the orange glass file from Lambert back into his pack (the look on Lambert’s face when Aiden had asked if he’d got that particular colour to remind Aiden of his eyes had been priceless).

“Why does it bother you anyway, you want to feel the full effect of my claws?”

Lambert was powerless to stop the unexpected flash of arousal which followed the question - all he could do was pray it had passed too quickly for Aiden to notice.

“Oh.” No such luck if the wide grin the Cat threw him was any indication as he slithered into Lambert’s lap, straddling his thighs and looping his arms round his neck, “You do!”

Lambert remained stubbornly silent as Aiden’s expression turned appraising.

“Alright Pup, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you want you want.” He lightly scraped currently blunted nails over the back of Lambert’s neck, causing a small shudder, before moving to gently coax Lambert’s mouth open and lightly run a finger over his fangs – no longer than Aiden’s own, but wider and tougher. Perfect for tearing and crushing, “If you let me feel these. Right here.” He tilted his head and tapping just above his collarbone. Lambert felt an entirely different chill run up his spine.

“Are you fucking insane? One wrong move and I could rip your throat out.”

“And I could bleed you dry with a swipe of my finger but that doesn’t seem to be much of a deterrent now, does it?”

Lambert gave a huff. His stupid fucking Cat...had a point. Damn him.

“So.” Aiden prompted, giving Lambert’s chin a pointed nip to bring his attention back, “Do we have a deal?”

Lambert let his gaze wander to Aiden’s throat, feeling a possessive something at the thought of that skin bearing a mark nobody would think to look twice at when worn by a Witcher. A claim hidden in plain sight.

“Deal. Now, if you’re staying at least shift so we can both get comfortable.”

Aiden tipped him backwards onto his bedroll in response.

The two weeks Aiden had determined would be needed were the longest of Lambert’s life. The more time that passed, the more of a tease Aiden became, deliberately dropping his gaze to Lambert’s mouth whenever he showed his fangs and tapping his steadily growing nails against any part of Lambert’s bare skin, the pinprick sensation both a promise and a question.

Still want this?

Lambert gave as good as he got, nipping at Aiden in a way anyone else would have called playful and smirking in that way which showed just the tips of his fangs and drove his Cat crazy.

Between the adrenaline of their latest contract still coursing through their veins, alongside various potions and the heated looks they kept throwing one another it was a small miracle that they had the wherewithal to stumble to the nearby river to bathe by unspoken agreement. Lambert had barely sloughed the blood and surface dirt off his skin before Aiden pounced, his own fangs nicking Lambert’s lip as he attacked his mouth, claw tips digging into the meat of Lambert’s shoulders. The Wolf groaned as he bought the lithe body to his chest in a crushing grip.

“Lambert, please.” Aiden whimpered, licking at the blood which still welled up on Lambert’s lip, “I need -I-“

“Me too.” Lambert panted, backing Aiden towards the river bank closest to their camp as he continued to press kisses anywhere he could reach.

They moved together seamlessly, bodies slick with a mix of sweat and river water – neither of them having had the patience to dry off before they were unfurling one of the bedrolls (whose was unimportant) and tackling one another to the ground. Aiden was loud in his pleasure as they rutted against one another, Lambert’s arms caging him in as he hovered over him, eyes fixed on the currently flawless column of Aiden’s throat, letting out his own bitten off curses as Aiden’s claws digging that little bit deeper into his back – a hairsbreadth from drawing blood - caused his rhythm to falter as he arched into the sensation.

“Aiden..I’m – fuck – I’m close. You still want?” He leaned in and opened his mouth against Aiden’s neck, hoping the other would catch on.

Aiden moaned and tilted his head to give him better access, “Fuck yes. Want your mark. You?” he asked, running his claws over the others back as his hips picked up the pace, crying out when Lambert reached between them and took them both in hand.

“Fuck yeah.” He breathed out against the others neck, “Mark me up, Kitten.”

He waited for the telltale hitch in the others breathing before he bit down. Hard. His own orgasm following swiftly in the heels of Aiden’s shriek of pained pleasure, his own sounds muffled given that his mouth was currently occupied. His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the white hot pleasure combined with the fire of multiple knives dragging deeply across his flesh, the sensation of something a tiny corner of his brain rationalised must be blood coating his back.

When the world stopped spinning, the first thing he was aware of was the scent and taste of blood, the second was that he still had his teeth embedded in Aiden’s neck, the third was that the other had unlatched his claws at least and was currently skimming his hands over his back whilst fretting about having gone too deep. He gave a small noise of warning before slowly unlocking his jaw, causing Aiden to hiss at the sensation of teeth sliding out, Lambert kissed the wound in apology as it started to bleed again, “S’fine.” He slurred as he sat up. Returning the favour by checking over the damage he’d left behind. It was deep beneath the blood but neat, no tears beyond the puncture marks left behind and perfectly oval. It looked good.

“Alright?” He asked, “Was...that alright?”

“Fan–fucking-tastic.” Aiden giggled, sounding a little punch drunk, “You? It doesn’t hurt too badly?”

Lambert shrugged as best as he could, relishing the twinge as the wounds pulled, “Stings a bit, but had worse.”

He took in the view underneath them before giving a dry chuckle, “Think it’s safe to say the bedroll’s fucked.”

“It’s fine, we can try and salvage it back at the river – don’t look at me like that, we’re both going to need another bath after that. First things first though.”

He pulled Lambert around and manoeuvred them so they were spooning, Aiden's chest to Lambert's back and their legs tangled together, “I want to admire my handiwork for a bit.”

[pythonscrypt]

my favorite mcc moments i have watched live, from season 2

so, in honour of season 2 of mcc finally coming to an end, i really wanted to make a post highlighting some of my favorite moments i've seen live since i started watching in mcc 17. i love this silly block game tournament, i love tuning into it every month and cheering on my favorite players and teams, i love watching my favorite games, and i'm grateful for all the terrific players who put on such great performances and of course noxcrew for creating this whole event and scott for organizing it. so, without waffling about too much, here's some moments i watched live in mcc season 2 that made me absolutely lose my mind:

(note: split into two parts because otherwise it would be very long)

my first live mcc + first winner's pov: mcc 17 orange ocelots (false, grian, sb, pete)

orange17 was my first full live pov and my proper gateway into mcc and i'll never forget just how incredibly lucky i am for that - it's like if someone's first live mcc was pink22 and seeing the captain win. from start to finish it was just an epic, cinematic experience with all of them hitting homeruns on every single game while being extremely supportive of each other and having a really good time themselves. and this couldn't be better highlighted by how, with bated breath, they encouraged grian during his final 1v3 during dodgebolt. really such a fantastic team with an incredible ending that i think will go down as one of the most memorable teams of season 2. it's also through watching this team that i found out about pete, and he's since become my most watched streamer so i'm always gonna appreciate that. if i had to highlight further specific moments from them, i'd say grian's sky battle and their whole entire buildmart are pretty damn iconic

my second live winner's pov: mcc 26 violet vampires (fruit, oli, shelby, phil)

i haven't watched fruit live in mcc very much, but i decided to this time because i just really loved this team from the start and thought it was super fun. this was a really, really fun team with excellent vibes, that was really funny, and that also played competitively and put up an excellent performance. they just worked so well together - there were so many funny convos they had in the lobbies in between games. and that's not to mention that they, particularly oli, came prepared for the event, with all the optimal strats down. when it came down to it in dodgebolt, they popped all the way off: oli had the most insane anime moment in the final round when he stared down hbomb as he shot, then immediately took him out in one shot. fruit did so well with his shooting and dodging (after doing some dodgebolt practice beforehand with zeuz), and finally WON. after five losses over a course of two years! shelby also finally won again after 2.5 years! it was such a long awaited, well deserved win and i'm so happy i was there to witness it. my favorite moments from them would definitely be their meltdown and sky battle. (linking a fan-uploaded vod here because there isn't one uploaded by any of the creators)

mcc 24 cyan coyotes winning sot (pearl, jojo, hannah, aimsey)

oh cyan24. anyone that has ever been on this blog knows just how much i fucking adore this team. from the excitement of seeing it be announced, with hannah's mcc debut and pearl and jojo getting a round 2 after mcc 23, to all the vod reviewing and practice streams they did, where hannah painstakingly went over every single game and made google docs for ideal strats and where they also just chilled and chatted as they played (jojo and pearl talking about their cats will always be a fav moment), to event day when all their practice and hard work paid OFF. i could make a whole other post about them alone, but suffice it to say that them winning sands of time was such an electrifying moment because it's known to be the most intense and complex mcc game, both revered and feared by the playerbase. and for a team with a newcomer to win it was just so insanely exhilarating, especially since hannah was unsurprisingly the most nervous about it. cyan24's sot run has since become compulsory watching for anyone wishing to vod review to learn more about sands of time, simply because of how clean, efficient and what a masterclass in comms it is. in particular, aimsey's sandkeeping performance here was so strong, it got them labeled as one of the best sandkeepers in the event just off its sheer strength. xe had extremely clear, concise callouts, and on top of that the whole team went in knowing exactly what they were doing, so there was absolutely no time wasted and their run was very optimised. and their reaction upon seeing they came 1st will never not make me smile because they're all just so overjoyed and on cloud 9. highly, highly recommend going back to watch this if you haven't yet - it might not particularly flashy or spectacular, but it's just so well played, with a fantastic comeback story behind it (they were 7th overall before this game and 4th after, and were widely predicted to come 10th place by the reddit. because reddit.) it's also through this team that i got introduced to hannah and aimsey, who are both such incredibly lovely people and fun to watch not just in mcc but in general.

the entire second half of pete's mcc 25

this might just be the most insane individual performance i've ever seen, simply because of how wildly it swings to each extreme of the spectrum. i made another post highlighting this after mcc 25, but the first half of this mcc didn't go too well for pete or his team lime (with captain, antvenom and jimmy). they were in 10th place overall, with pete being 40th individual after survival games. and then, the second half, which consisted entirely of individual based movement games, came in. if you've ever watched or even just heard about pete in mcc, you'd know that he's known for being incredibly strong in all of the movement games, and i don't think there could be a better display of that than his four game run here which lifted him from 40th at the beginning to 8th at the end. just watching him get 1st in ace race was an insane moment, and from there he came 2nd in hole in the wall, 1st in tgttos and 3rd in parkour tag. what made this all the more fun was how casual he was throughout all of this - it's not like he knew he was dead last individually, and was tryharding as a result of that. he was just chilling and playing the games like he normally would anyways. in between games in the lobby he remarked "i think i might be good at the movement games, and bad at the pvp ones. i don't know, might need a few more events to test this out." i definitely recommend watching his ace race if nothing else - his commentary is super funny and his reaction at the end when he wins is just great.

mcc pride 22 yellow yaks buildmart (grian, scott, gem, shelby)

oh buildmart, buildmart, buildmart. i don't think even one post would be enough for me to fully cover and talk about my thoughts on the very tumultuous history this game has had throughout season 2, especially this year. which is why i feel that yellow pride 22, and the mind blowing dominance they showed in this game, is all the more important. it's four people who are extremely strong at buildmart, have incredible comms and coordination skills, and also happen to be damn good at building. they're all just on the same page the whole game, with grian as the manager helping steer them throughout. i'd like to note that shelby is normally known for being strong at buildmart particularly as a builder, but here, she acts as the floater responsible for gathering all the blocks and listening to grian's commands. a team would have to be extremely strong in buildmart to have shelby be their floater, and this one obviously was. if you include non canon events, this team actually holds the record for the highest scoring buildmart performance of the season, which was at one point also held by grian's team orange 17. in an era of mcc where buildmart has only gotten increasingly maligned and controversial, this performance just serves as a great reminder of all the merits of buildmart and of how the game is intended to be played at its finest.

[fillyoursoulxx]

Teasing. Laughing. Silence. It was a bit of a pattern between them and it wasn't something he hated. Not really. He'd spent years in this kinda...holding sequence, acknowledged but never taken seriously. Forgotten but existing like some kinda faint echo until well, until he made himself known again. It'd repeat. Over and over and over. And yeah, there were times he felt like ditching it altogether. Times he had because yeah no, not even he could sit around just pining forever. He had to live his life to some existent. He did and if this didn't work out? Ok. He would keep on keeping on. But it was hard not to be a little optimistic given how fucking well he was doing. Maybe Eva could be a mystery to some, but he had her various smiles memorized, the way her micro expressions shifted when she was frustrated etched in his brain and that oh so rare hint of genuine surprise? He loved to hear that.

So he joked, about how under the radar he could move, about his various and totally not stalkerish 'notes' on her favorite sandwich combinations, they laughed, and then came the silence. The kind that twisted up his insides so tight he wanted to burst before just-- giving into it. Easing into it because yes. He wanted this. Every little gift, song, smile, compliment he'd ever directed her way led to this exact moment. His one fucking shot. But in all of that...patience. That's what he'd learned. Patience and the confidence that even if something didn't turn out, something else would. So he ignored his nerves and let himself sit in it, the moment, enjoying his sandwich and a tiny bottle of fireball, eyes on the skyline as the sun fades and the deep oranges and reds give way darker purples and blues.

It's not until she finally speaks he glances her way again, a chuckle falling from his lips. "Why not both?" I mean, if she was magic it stood to reason they could be. And maybe it was big headed, Louis knew he was too. He was a fucking catch and just because no one else had realized that yet, like really realized? Well, didn't make it any less fact. Just meant people could be pretty dense. Or blind. Or both. It was her next question that gave him pause and he took a moment. He wanted to think about it. She deserved that didn't she? An honest answer and those nerves sucker punched him in the gut, reminding him that if he answered wrong that could be it. KO. Game over.

So yeah. He was quiet, his head tilted, thoughtful expression on his face before he finally hummed and looked her in the eye,

"I don't know,"

Simple. Honest. But again, she deserved a bit more than that. "I wish I had some grandiose speech or answer, but I don't. I like you. I know that. I wanna fuck you. And I know, that's really fucking forward, but it's true. But it's more than that too. Like-- ok. Stay with me and stay un-offended, ok?" he paused long enough to angle himself toward her a bit more, knees brushing, "So. there's this cat. It's this beautiful, independent thing and it lives near by. It always has. It on one side, you on the other. You can see it, leave it treats, give it a name, call to it. You can watch it take care of other kittens and maybe sometimes, if your lucky, it notices you too. But you've seen it and you know-- you know how it moves. Meows. How it hunts. But as much as you want to you can't touch it. You can't know it, can't build a bond any deeper than what it allows you to see. But you know seeing it, being near it even without all that makes your day so much better. And all you can think about is how much better it could be to interact, really see it and have it see you and be--" He laughed, palming his face cause yeah, he was rambling and not only that but comparing her to some feral cat? It felt stupid. But really he couldn't-- it wasn't something he could articulate any other way.

"Just-- Something about you lights me the fuck up. I don't know why. Maybe it's magic. I don't know. But I want to. I wanna figure it out and that takes knowing you, not just this image I've got of you. And I can't do that if I don't try. Does any of that make sense?"

continued from here because tumblr is a bitch / @fillyoursoulxx

"You've given this a lot of thought," she said, mock-concern on her features. "I mean, I know your sisters are a lot but they're not that bad. I'm keeping one eye open around you from now on." The silly back and forth is another plus, another tick in the good column on his behalf because she couldn't joke like this with a stranger. A stranger didn't know her history like he did, even if it was more of a spectator versus an actual contributor. Though any premeditated murderous fantasies are gone when she hears the music and she can't help but hum along with it. "I didn't know you were capable of playing something at a normal listening level," she teases, letting him know that yes, she remembered.

The funny thing about all of this is that at the time, she didn't give a second though to the things that he did for her. He wasn't bowing at her feet, but there had been song dedications and corny jokes, all things she had attributed to a silly teenaged crush, and it was all things that she had forgotten the second they happened. But now, it felt like memory after memory was being pulled from the depths of her mind, remembering the moments he did this or said that. It was a surreal feeling to say the least. And it was that same feeling when he pulled out the food. "You remembered my favorite sandwich?" she asks, a hint of disbelief to her tone. Eva can't remember the last time a boyfriend had remembered the tiniest of details about her, but she chalked it up to the history and afternoons spent when she'd help Max babysit him and Dallas and they'd make sandwiches after school. Strangely, the sandwich felt better than any meal a restaurant could prepare.

She pulled the sandwich out of the plastic and took a bite, letting out a hum of satisfaction. "You even put honey," she groaned, looking over at him and when did he get so close? The arm behind her head did not go unnoticed but she didn't say anything as she took another bite, simply enjoying this moment. If she thought too long about it, she'd freak out and run away, not believing how well he was actually doing on this not-date. Peeking into the basket, she pulls out a bottle of water and, after a few seconds of rummaging, finds a mini Cinnamon Whiskey. "I wonder if these two go together," she mused, popping the top and drinking half the bottle before taking another bite of sandwich. It was definitely a combination but not an unpleasant one. The bottles reminded her more of his sisters than him, rummaging through their uncle's liquor cabinet, trying to keep things looking as if they were untouched. Failing more than succeeding at times.

So caught up in the food and the music and actually having a nice moment with him, she barely registers when he talks, though she actually listens this time, no quick jab or teasing comment falling from her lips. His words are deep, referencing her earlier thoughts about the fireflies, and she doesn't respond right away. Instead, she eats the remainder of her sandwich, and it's not until the song is over does she say anything at all. "Are you trying to say that I'm magic?" she asks as she tucks her trash back into the basket and she turns her body so she's facing him versus sitting side by side. "Or that there could be magic between us?" Maybe it's just the small whisper of alcohol running through her system because of the mini bottle, or it's the magic they both have spoke about, but she feels lighter, like she might actually believe there's something more out there. "I have something I've been wanting to ask you since you asked me on this not-date. Why have you had a crush on me for so long? Like ... is this some type of self-challenge that you need to conquer? Notch in your bed post type deal? Which I am totally not offended by, by the way." She reaches out, hands on his arms to assure him as much before she pulls back. "I'm just curious."

[rocorambles]

Jealousy

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Main), Osamu x Reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Misuse of Duct Tape, Non-Con Bondage, Forced Breeding, Forced Impregnation, Delusional Mindset

Summary: Atsumu is determined to prove that he’s the better twin for you.    

The first time Atsumu meets you he doesn’t remember you so much as he gets stuck on the fact that Osamu is dating someone. Osamu is fucking dating someone and Atsumu is still here single and alone in his late twenties, not a girl anywhere even in sight. It makes him livid as he stares at the identical face gently smiling at you, affectionately holding your hand, looking so damn happy and content. 

What does he have that Atsumu doesn’t? A successful food chain? Cool. But is he a pro-athlete? A medal winning Olympic athlete? One of the best setters in the country? In the world? It’s infuriating to think about and as much as Atsumu loves volleyball, even he dreams of love, marriage, a family of his own late at night when he’s alone on a hotel bed, only Sakusa’s breathing from the other bed in the room keeping him company. 

And those thoughts consume him long after he bids farewell to Osamu and you and suddenly the MSBY Jackals are in an uproar as every team member takes turns being sexiled by their blond setter when they’re off at their away games, as Atsumu nonchalantly strolls into the locker rooms to prep for practice, back littered with scratch marks that Bokuto tries to shield from Hinata’s eyes when the orange haired athlete curiously asks when Atsumu got a cat. 

Girl after girl walks in and out of his bed, his life. Most never lasting more than a night, a few returning for a couple more rounds in the bedsheets, one even manages to interest him enough to grab a cup of coffee with. But it’s the same verdict every time. He’s good enough to fool around with and he’s great in bed, but Miya Atsumu is not husband material, not when he’s already married to volleyball. 

The rejection only fuels his inner turmoil and the green eyed monster inside of him grows and grows, festering and spreading throughout him the more he stops attempting his futile attempts and instead turns his energy to loitering around Osamu and you, inviting himself over for dinners after practice, trying his hand at helping you in the kitchen for brunch on the weekends, crashing in your guest bedroom to the point that Osamu and you gift him a spare key to your shared home. 

Neither of you think much of it, Osamu joking to you privately that this is just Atsumu being the needy emotional brother he really is while you’re just glad to be able to get to know Osamu’s family better. So none of you notice how brown eyes inquisitively trail after the both of you, watching how the two of you seamlessly work out both your hectic lives, never letting the long hours at your job or Osamu’s restaurant get in the way of your relationship, always directing a warm smile or gaze at the other despite how obviously exhausted or far away from a good mood you’re in. 

And Atsumu lets himself believe that this could be his as he hungrily stares at the way you gently caress his brother’s hand, the affection in your gaze as you tenderly kiss him on the lips, the playful wink you give his twin when you tell him you’re getting ready for bed. He lets himself dream that it’s him who you direct those loving gazes to as you cheerfully greet him in the morning, handing him a coffee made just the way he likes it, placing a plate full of delicious piping hot food in front of him. He lets his hand wander down his shorts at night, straining to hear every detail, every decibel of your moans as Osamu and you make love at night, closing his eyes and stroking his cock as he imagines it’s him who’s forcing those beautiful cries from your mouth. 

But it’s not all a picture perfect paradise and Atsumu carefully listens in, alerted by the raising voices he hears through the walls as more and more time passes by. He’d noticed the growing tension in the house, noticed how the two of you were less affectionate, almost awkwardly shuffling around each other when both of you were home from work these past few months. But he couldn’t think of what could have caused both of you to act so strangely, so suddenly, when everything had seemed so swell. 

Curiosity has him placing his ear on the wall and he winces when he hears you shout, anger and hurt in your voice that makes his heart clench painfully, asking when Osamu was going to propose, telling his brother how you’re sick of waiting, how you want to get married and have kids soon. Something shattering inside of him when your voice becomes small and hesitant. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted too, Osamu. Isn’t that why we decided to start living together?”

He expects his brother to leap at the opportunity, to reassure you, yes, absolutely yes, we can get married right away. He knows that if their positions were switched, that’s what he would be doing. But his jaw drops in disbelief, morphing into a scowl when Osamu pleads for you to calm down, to be patient. 

“I do want that. But just not right now.”

“If not now, when? We’re not getting any younger, Osamu.” 

“But my chain is in talks of expanding and there’s so much going on. I just don’t have time-”

There’s a heavy silence as Osamu is quick to snap his mouth shut and Atsumu knows he’s cursing himself for the slip of his tongue, already knows the next words that are going to come out of your mouth, words he himself is all too familiar with from his own past failed relationships. 

“You just don’t have time for us? Me?” 

“That’s not what I meant…”

But it’s too late and Atsumu flinches when he hears loud angry movement, Osamu’s voice imploring you to calm down and stop what you’re doing to no avail as you stomp out of the house, slamming the front door behind you as you make your way to a friend’s house to spend the night apart. 

No one speaks of that night after you return to the house the next day and the three of you continue as normal. Or at least as normal as you can be after an unresolved disagreement that your relationship ultimately hinges around continues ticking like a time bomb in everyone’s minds. And it finally counts down to zero when Osamu packs his bags and plants a cold chaste kiss on your lips before heading to the airport and making his way to seal the deal on the restaurant expansion that’s taken over his entire life. 

Maybe it’s Atsumu’s fault that the two of you are drunk out of your minds, sprawled out on the living room floor. Scratch that. It’s definitely Atsumu’s fault and he drunkenly smiles at how out of it you are, heart warming at the giddy genuine smile spread across your face, happiness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen ever since that argument Osamu and you had. And oh, he didn’t mean to say that out loud and he panics, quickly sobering up when your smile falls at his words, eyes glazed in reminiscence as you think of that night. 

Atsumu isn’t known for his patience, but he waits, not uttering a single word, not moving an inch as you open yourself up to him, telling him your hopes and dreams that so closely match his own of a loving relationship, marriage, family, sharing about the argument Osamu and you had (unknowing of the fact that Atsumu already knows far more than he should). But when you frustratedly laugh at yourself, asking him rhetorically if you’re just being silly and naive, if you’re just a grown woman trying to fulfill a little girl’s childish dream, you’re stunned by the fierce denial from the blonde athlete determinedly staring at you.

“No. You’re not being silly or naive. ‘Samu’s being the idiot. Any man would be lucky and proud to have you as his wife and to create a family with you.”

Those words resonate with you, linger in your mind, further branded into your memory by the sheer sincerity Atsumu drowned them in. And maybe that’s why you find it impossible to play house anymore, find it impossible to live a forced and fake lie when you’re not truly happy anymore. It’s hard, heartbreakingly so, to part ways with the silver haired man when he still holds a part of your heart, but it’s for the best. Why continue when neither of you are on the same page in the long run? Why waste more precious years when you can actively work towards your desired future with someone else who wants the same things as you? 

It’s logical. It makes sense. And yet when you meet up with Atsumu at his apartment for dinner one night to catch up a few months or so after the break up you’re still doubting your decision. 

You had been surprised the blond setter had been so adamant about keeping in touch even after his brother and you separated, but if you’re honest, he’s surprisingly sweet and caring, someone you consider a true friend. So as awkward as it might seem to outsiders, the two of you remain in close contact and you happily agree to his invite when both your busy schedules finally match up. 

But as much as you like Atsumu, the two of you really need to stop drinking so much when you see each other and you let out a cry of frustration when your eyes immediately tear up when Atsumu casually asks how you’re doing as both of you sprawl out on his couch, trying to wave away his worried face as he hovers far too close to you, telling him it’s just the alcohol making you more emotional than usual. 

And you still blame all the drinks he had generously kept refilling for you for the way you sob and cling onto him as he wraps you in a tight hug, telling him how you worry all the time about whether or not you made the right decision to break up with Osamu, whether or not you’re ever going to find someone else, ever going to get married, ever going to have that dream romance you’ve always wanted, ever going to have the happy full family you’ve always yearned for. 

It all comes out of you so easily. But everything with Atsumu has always come easy and you don’t think much of it, finding comfort in his solid presence as he continues to hold you, letting him readjust and find a comfortable position-

You scramble to separate from him when lips tenderly meet yours, limbs flailing as you shove the man away from you, eyes comically wide open as you stare agape at Atsumu. 

“What are you- We can’t- No no no. All of this is wrong. This would KILL Osamu-”

Something inside of Atsumu snaps when he hears his brother’s name from your lips. Even after all this time, you’re still thinking of him? You still care about him? When the better twin is right in front of your fucking face? 

He doesn’t even register he’s shouting those questions in your face, barely registering your terrified eyes as you try to shrink away from him. But your movement of pulling away from him snaps him back to reality and reflexes has his hand twisting in your hair, grabbing you by your roots, fury making him numb to the way you desperately claw at his grip as he drags you to his bedroom. 

You’re too focused on soothing your aching skull when he finally releases you by throwing you onto his bed and pitiful tears stream down your face as you gingerly hold your head, ignorant of how the athlete is rummaging through his closet. In hindsight you’ll wonder why you didn’t try to run while his back was turned, although you already know the answer. This is just Atsumu in one of his moods. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll apologize in just a second. Those are the thoughts fleeting through your mind amidst the sore ache Atsumu has left behind. 

But a warning bell rings relentlessly inside of you as you finally look up when you sense him approaching you, a thick roll of silver duct tape in his hands. 

Had Atsumu always looked so...intimidating?

You try to fight back as you’re suddenly pinned to the bed by a muscular body, flailing and thrashing as calloused hands hold your arms above your hand, tightly wrapping your wrists together, looping extra lengths of the tape around the headboard, securely fastening your arms up and out of the way. But it’s useless, pathetic really, although Atsumu thinks there’s something adorable about how hard you’re trying, only to be easily batted away by his much stronger body as he tears off your clothes and bends your knees, taping your calves to your thighs, one side at a time until both your legs are bound. 

And then there’s silence and stillness other than your wriggling tied form as Atsumu sits back and admires the view of your naked body, reality so much more lucious and gorgeous than he had ever imagined. You struggle against your tight restraints, recoiling as brown eyes leer at you, ravenously devouring the sight of your heaving breasts, raking down your figure before finally landing on your bare pussy on full display as his hands spread your bound legs on either side of you, palms searing your inner thighs with their unwanted warmth as he holds you open. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape to hold you down and keep you still. One day you’ll let him have you of your own free will. One day you’ll see that he was always the one for you. But he can’t help but feel that there’s something breathtaking about how vulnerable and pretty you are, laid out for him like a wrapped present, something filthily attractive about how striking the silver stripes are against your skin. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape...but that doesn’t mean he'll stop using it. 

You shudder as he trails his fingers over the duct tape, grinning at you all the while. 

“Can’t have you moving too much if I’m going to breed you. You’ll make all my cum spill out of you.”

He tsks when you frantically struggle at his words, pathetic begs and pleads spilling from your lips as dread fills you from learning exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how exposed you are, how tight the front of his pants look as his erection presses against the fabric, how far too close he is to your most intimate part. And you sob as he leans on top of you, pressing his toned body against yours, something hard pressing against your bare pussy as he captures your lips in a kiss to silence you. 

“I thought you would be more thankful considering how you were practically in my arms begging me for kids not even a hour ago. And now I’m here ready to give you what you want and you’re making such a fuss.” 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as you only sob even harder, body shaking and trembling, sniveling as you stare up at him with teary eyes, begging him to stop. 

“Oh shut up. What? Are you worried about the order of things? Worried I’ll just knock you up and leave you alone? Don’t be stupid. I’ll make sure to put a ring on your finger and marry you after this. Who cares about the order of things when the end result is the same.” 

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, unsure where to even begin telling him just how wrong his reasoning is, unsure how to even process his words. Ring? Marry? What-

But thoughts fly out of your head when a hungry mouth suddenly descends on your breasts, harshly sucking a nipple between wet lips, fingers roughly twisting and pulling at your other nipple and you wail at the jolt of sudden stimulation, too focused on the tongue lapping at your nipples and lances of arousal swirling inside of you to notice how his free hand is shoving his pants and boxers down and off. 

You hate how quick you are to melt into the delirious pleasure, body craving for the touch of another, to be brought to new heights by another after being left to your own devices for the past few months and you can feel your pussy clench and throb, feeling so exposed and empty, practically begging to be stuffed full as slick begins to form between your legs. And as if Atsumu can hear your body’s silent cry for more, he begins to push the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arches, mouth instinctively opening as he takes his time, pressing past your tight opening, slipping further and further inside of you until he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you, letting your body adjust to him as he continues licking and sucking on your breasts, groaning as he feels your tight walls clamp around him with every move of his mouth. 

Atsumu is not known for his patience, but he tries his damn best to take it as slow as he bearably can for you, dragging his cock back and forth against your gummy walls, constantly adjusting the angle of his hips with every stroke until you’re crying out, and he smirks triumphantly, memorizing the exact position and angle that has you seeing stars as he continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you. And all it takes is for his hand to slide between the two of you and gently circle your clit as he continues his steady assault to have you breaking to pieces underneath him, garbled versions of his name escaping your mouth as your orgasm washes over you in heavy tall waves, his own release joining with yours as your pussy convulses and milks him of his sticky white liquid. 

As post-coital bliss disintegrates, shame and relief flood through you, shame for enjoying it, relief that this ordeal is finally over and you wait. Wait for him to remove the tape. Wait for him to pull out of you. Grimacing as he affectionately nuzzles you and litters your face with kisses. But you panic, pure fear flooding through you when you feel his cock twitching inside of you once more, growing inside of you again. 

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? Need to make sure I fill you with so much cum that your body has no choice but to get pregnant.”

And he stays true to his words, fucking you over and over again, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes passionate and sensual, sometimes soft and gentle, but always finishing inside of you, adding to the splattered pooling mess inside of you. You feel disgusting, the increasingly wet noises as he thrusts in and out of the sticky wet mess inside of you permeating throughout the room, stomach feeling so bloated with cum that you swear you must be pregnant already. 

Quiet, relieved sobs wrack your body when the weight on top of you finally lifts, when he finally pulls out of you and your body slumps down, all the tension leaving it, discomfort taking its place as you feel a torrent of liquid move to rush out of your overfilled cunt, the beginnings of it already starting to trickle out. But despite your aching dry throat, you manage to let out a strangled cry of disbelief when your hips are uncomfortably raised up, upper body almost folded in half as Atsumu keeps your glistening pussy upright, not allowing even a single drop more to escape. 

And in this new position you have no choice but to watch, anxiety coursing through you when he tears off another piece of duct tape, chest hyperventilating as he places it over your gaping hole, effectively sealing you shut and despite the fact that you thought you had no more tears left to shed, new salty teardrops slide down your cheeks at the debauched site of your own pussy being treated as nothing more than an object, a receptacle for his seed, his beaming smug face between your legs only adding to your humiliation as he smiles down at his handiwork. 

All you can do is mindlessly stare when he directs his smile at you, verbally praising himself for how smart he is for finding a way to keep his cum inside of you and making sure all his hard work doesn’t go to waste, mind and body feeling numb and broken as he finally lets your body lay fully back on the bed, slumping down next to you in exhaustion and cuddling your listless and still bound figure. 

“We can go pick out rings together tomorrow, okay? Maybe try a few more times for some runts after. You think the more I cum in you, the better the chance that you’ll have twins?”

You don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling that you’ll soon be finding out.

[emmacifer]

Art analysis: 'Poe and Ranpo' chapter-opening art

The upward eight of swords? The Black Cat? The Murders in the Rue Morgue?

*Spoilers ahead for the manga, ‘The Black Cat’ by Edgar Allan Poe, ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ by Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 32 is the chapter where Poe challenges Ranpo and Yosano, but mostly Ranpo, to solve a mystery he has spent 6 years meticulously constructing, thinking that he finally would have his revenge on Ranpo. And, for what’s worth, I think it’s interesting to point out the potential references that are embedded in this chapter opening art.

# All my analyses are personal opinions and I do not mean to override any takes the reader might have. That being said...

The first reference is the upward eight of swords.

In the art, we can see a hand, or possibly just the hand of a body, reaching out from a coffin, and eight swords in an upright position jutting out of it. I haven’t really learned anything about tarot cards before but after reading up on it, I feel like it might have something significant to the card of the upward eight of swords. Please do correct me if I am wrong on any accord.

The upward eight of swords represents a situation where you feel trapped in a situation but you have no way out. The more that you think about it, the more that you feel trapped. But in actuality you are not bound by the situation itself but the thoughts by which you chain yourself. You are able to escape the situation if you want to.

In the tarot card, the woman is fenced by the upright swords but isn’t necessarily imprisoned by them. She would know that she can escape if only she’d take the blindfold off.

So far in the manga, there has been two scenes where Ranpo admits that he does not have an ability and that his deduction skills are his own observative intelligence and methodology:

Chapter 32, which we are analysing right now

And, chapter 56, where he tells Mushitaro he will defeat him even though he does not have an ability, but since his comrades think he’s invincible (dazaiscans)

Ranpo kept telling Yosano all throughout the first part of the chapter that he needed his glasses so that they could solve the mystery of the novel they were trapped in and return to the real world. He's shown to have not wanted to question the guests or investigate his surroundings, but since Ranpo's "ability" has always been himself, he is subconsciously or unconsciously doing it anyways. He notices things when he's not even having to put in the effort to do so. He can point out his deduction process and justify the outcome as he always does.

But he still said that he wasn't doing fine. I don't mean to mischaracterize Ranpo in any way, he is a very brilliant character with a childish, occasionally teasing personality but serious when the time calls for it. But in this chapter, his initial statement that says he couldn't use his ability because he did not have his glasses, did put him in a tight place for a hot minute. Now this is what would relate to the upward eight of swords. The card symbolizes a situation where you feel trapped in a situation but it is not the situation itself binding you, but your thoughts. You are able to escape if you want to. The lady in the card is able to escape if only she took her blindfold off. I wouldn’t necessarily say Ranpo is in denial of the fact that he does not have an ability, because, evidently, he very much is aware of said fact and acknowledges it himself.

The second reference is the black cat behind the window.

While most ability users in BSD have their abilities named after a famous work of them or a reference to one of their works, Poe's ability name ‘Black Cat in the Rue Morgue’ has a combination of two of his works: 'The Black Cat' and ' The Murders in the Rue Morgue'. And the mystery novel that he introduced Ranpo to in Chapter 32 also seems to be a combination of the tales of irl Poe's two stories, 'The Black cat' and 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue', with, I'd say, only the exception of it being set in the future since the original novels of irl Poe did not have any futuristic elements in them. I’m not saying that the mystery novel is an exact replica and combination of the two irl novels, it’s just that the overall atmosphere of the novel seems to somewhat reflect certain elements of the irl novels.

The Black Cat is a story about a man who hanged his own cat from a tree and later killed his own wife in the heat of a moment. The protagonist of this novel enjoyed drinking to the extreme and it was in the moments when he was highly intoxicated that he committed acts such as gouging out the eye of his beloved cat, Pluto, and hitting his wife over the head with an axe, accidently killing her.

The Murders in the Rue Morgue is a story of how the intelligent mind of Auguste Dupin solved the muder mystery of two french ladies who were killed by an unknown murderer in their apartment at Rue Morgue street. Said unknown murderer later turned out to be an orangutan that a sailor captured from Borneo then brought to Paris, In the novel, several people known to have heard the murder were questioned individually about the unknown culprit, just like how the people in the mansion were questioned about the murderer in chapter 32, in the novel. It could be said that questioning witnesses is a common theme that can be found for any mystery story but it’s just an interesting similarity.

The thing about the mystery novel BSD Poe wrote was that-

a) There was a murderer whom the people did not know

b) The protagonist was trying to find out who the murderer is

c) The protagonist himself was the murderer

In the story of ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’,

a) There was a murderer whom the people did not know

b) The protagonist, or protagonists, since there were two of them, were trying to find out who the murderer is

Obviously BSD Poe’s mystery novel did not feature an orangutan that accidently happened to kill people but that is where the element of the story of ‘The Black Cat’ comes in, because the protagonist of ‘The Black Cat’ murdered both his cat and his wife in the name of intoxication, which leads us to

c) The protagonist himself is the murderer

Personally, I feel like ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ fits better than ‘The Black Cat’ for the references in BSD, since it features a protagonist, who was amazed by an individual who had a very observant mind. The protagonist of the novel had much admiration for Auguste Dupin’s thought process and how he could read something seemingly simple to deduce something deep out of it. Much like the admiration and respect that Poe has for Ranpo’s ability, the non-ability.

The third reference is the roses.

Everyone knows that roses are typically associated with love, romance and passion, but they could also have different meanings depending on their color and their symbolisms in different cultures. Yellow roses in Japanese culture are said to mean jealousy, at least according to source. It might symbolize the jealousy that Poe has of Ranpo and his aspiration to beat Ranpo. But he is equally jealous of it as he is fascinated by it, which orange roses can symbolize: fascination and desire. They could also mean enthusiasm and passion, both of which Poe has for Ranpo’s company and ability. He admires Ranpo and his ability, in the way that one would admire their opponent in a friendly rivalry sort of relationship. He is constantly awed by it, and draws a lot of inspiration from Ranpo.

In conclusion, I think the fascination that Poe has of Ranpo and the fact that Ranpo acknowledges his and Poe’s encounter six years ago as ‘the only time I got pushed to my limits by another detective’(easygoingscans) is very compatible of them and I do believe that their rivalry and friendship is something that helps both of them grow and benefits both individuals. It is something beautiful.

Some more sources below for the meaning of roses if anyone wants to find out more!! Also thank you so much nika @nikadoesanart for beta-ing this analysis >//<

https://www.pickupflowers.com/flower-guide/rose-flower-meanings.

https://www.thursd.com/articles/different-colors-of-roses-and-their-meaning/

https://blossomtown.com/bt-news/what-do-flowers-mean-find-flower-language/

[inlovewithhisblueeyes]

A Pup's Commendation

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Female Reader, Kal x Paris (puppy love)

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Mentions of pets being stressed out, Fluffy goodness

A/N: This past weekend was Independence Day weekend and fireworks were going on every single night with Sunday night being the worst. However, one of the houses on my street left out a sign with some treats, toys, and poo bags. Paris definitely appreciated it after the night we had. She was a bit of wreck. @sif-the-tsunami and had a discussion about how we hoped Kal was okay last night and thus this idea was born.

Attention! Pups of Cordova

As commendation for your perseverance through this treacherous weekend, please help yourself to a treat and a toy! (with your owner’s permission) (also, some poo bags)

Henry had first seen the sign as he left his lodgings for his morning run. He did not get too close to look at it in the low morning light and just assumed it was another garage sale sign. Plus, he was feeling rather ragged after a weekend of Kal freaking out over the firework displays. Three continuous nights of Kal’s carrying on and distressed pacing were three nights too many. Kal had been most disagreeable about getting up from his spot to join his master, preferring to have a nice lie in.

The man couldn’t fault his pup for his behavior for even Henry considered skipping his run. However, after the hefty portion of takeaway last night, he knew deep down that he needed to go for it. The only downside of being in Los Angeles was the availability of any cuisine whenever one wanted. He forced himself to continue on his usual route around the neighborhood with the promise of a nice cup of coffee once he got back. Maybe then the bear would deign it the proper time to get a start on with his day.

The side of Los Angeles was serene when it wasn’t under siege from the extravaganza of illegal fireworks. He was close enough to the studios so if he wanted a few more minutes of sleep, it wouldn’t affect how long it took to get there. On his next trip, Henry wouldn’t mind staying here again. There were plenty of places to walk Kal, the restaurants were dog friendly, and the people were amiable. The man supposed being a few minutes away from all of the studios had them used to seeing celebrities out and about.

Henry slowed as his home away from home came up ahead once again. Perhaps he had found a part of Los Angeles that wasn’t so bad after all. Had he known about it years ago he might not have been so willing to leave. He shook that thought from his head and he approached the front door, ready for a shower and some coffee.

The second time the actor had seen the sign was thanks to Kal dragging him towards it a few hours later. The bear had caught the whiff of something worth checking out and decided that the best method of investigation was to charge after it regardless of being attached to the lead. Kal had dragged his master 20 feet to the white gate two houses down and there lay his prize to the left of the sign.

Kal had scarfed down the first bowl and was attempting to move to the second when Henry finally caught onto him. He had been too busy getting a better look at what the sign said and laughing.

“Kal, leave it,” he ordered as he attempted to move the dog away,” They’re not all for you pig, no matter how much you want them.”

The bear huffed at his owner and followed his command but not before stealing a ball from the pile. It wasn't until the walk was over and two back inside that Kal revealed his hand. He dropped the spit-covered ball at the man’s feet, tail wagging and eager to play.

“Oh bear, you naughty dog,” Henry chuckled before tossing the ball.

The third time the sign made an appearance was close to sundown. Henry had made a point to go the opposite direction to keep Kal from being tempted to eat up the rest of the treats. There was a cool breeze in the air and they weren’t alone on the street. Some people were just getting home from the day, children were playing in their yards, and a few other dogs were being walked as well.

It was a peaceful way to end the day. By the time the two circled back and around headed back home, streaks of orange, red, and pink pierced the sky. They were in the home stretch near the sign and its bounty when a little spotted pup ran into view towards the treats. Kal bolted towards the dog and his leash was ripped from Henry’s hands. The smaller dog ran towards the treats and Kal was quick to join them.

Henry sprinted off after his dog and a figure on the end of the street did the same.

“Paris! Get back here bubba,” the person yelled.

The two humans reached the house at the same time and were equally surprised at the sight before them. Both dog’s tails were wagging as they gorged themselves on treat heaven. Kal even went as far as to knock open the boxes of Milkbones for his new friend. What was left at their respective owners' arrival was soggy cardboard, empty bowls, and two equally pleased pups.

They looked up at their owners with innocent faces like there weren't remnants of treats dusted over their muzzles. Henry glanced over at the new arrival and saw that you had the same face of exasperation that he did. In your hands was a harness and leash sans dog, clears signs of a runaway pup. The two pups were none the wiser to their owner’s moods and got busy sniffing the other.

“Well it looks like two pups are in the dog house tonight,” you offered shyly.

“There’s no question about that. I’m Henry and that bear of a dog is Kal,” he offered, holding out his hand.

You shook his hand and replied, “Y/N and that spotted devil is Paris.”

The two of you attempted to approach your respective dogs, but Kal made quick work to tangle himself around Paris. The two seemed quite enamored with each other.

“I’m so sorry about that. Kal, let’s go!” Henry ordered, grabbing onto to Kal's leash and attempting to move him away.

"It’s alright. Paris needs friends of her own species. She’s rather fond of the cats at the cafe two blocks over,” You giggled and bent down to scoop up your pup.

Kal let out an annoyed whine at his new friend being taken away so soon, there were still balls that needed to be played with and dirt to get covered in.

“Come on Romeo. I’m sure you’ll see Paris later,” Henry teased as he patted Kal’s head.

“You definitely will. We live just over there,” You offered as Paris was wiggling around in your arms, trying to rejoin her friend.

“I think both of us will hold you to that. Have a nice night, Y/N. Try to stay out of trouble, Paris.”

“Same to you and Mr. Kal. Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small wave before turning and making your way to your house.

Kal let out a sad bork as the two of you left his sight.

Henry sighed as he looked down at his dog, “Yeah, me too buddy.”

Maybe being in Los Angeles wasn't so bad after all.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Aggro makes everything better

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Taking a nap together on the couch

Word Count: 1,016

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Milo/Sweetheart with Aggro as a special cameo!) 

Rating: G

Triggers: NA

Summary: After a long day at work, what better way to unwind by cuddling with your pet cat? Oh, Milo can join too, Sweetheart's supposed. 

ConCrit: Y

Darling's oneshot was a little heavy on the angst, so I want to focus on writing something light and fluffy for this round! 

-

"Milo? I'm home!"

Sweetheart returns home when the late afternoon sun paints the dark aqua walls of the living room with a warm, orange tinge. As they closed the door behind them, the noises and chatters of the outside world tapered off. 

The silence of the apartment greets Sweetheart. 

"Huh. Guess Milo is still at work." Sweetheart murmurs and throws their keys into the bowl on top of the shoe racks before switching on the lights. 

Dahlia has been getting colder lately; time has moved them all into another season, Autumn. It might have taken another step into the future, but Sweetheart can't help feel as if they continue to remain in the past. 

Sweetheart idly putters around the apartment to let their thoughts run before texting Milo to let him know that they're home. 

So many things have happened in just half a year. 

After that whole ordeal with the Shade, Sweetheart's life intermingled with Milo until they became lovers, and it wasn't long before they moved in together. 

Sweetheart never thought domestic bliss suited them well. 

Meeting the Shaw Pack as well as the Mates of said Pack members had been an incredible experience. The Mates were very welcoming; especially Angel and Babe. They endeared themselves to Sweetheart very easily and quickly. 

So whenever their boys are having their Pack meeting, Angel would gather the Mates to the patio while Babe quickly whips up pots of tea, coffee and snacks for them to enjoy. 

During this little get-together, Sweetheart (and sometimes Sam) would be the star of the conversation. Since Angel and Babe are Non-Empowered humans, they love listening to Sweetheart's stories and adventures as a Magical Investigator of the Department. 

They're charming and kind people. The ones Sweetheart are grateful to have as friends. 

A low, sweet 'mreep' startle Sweetheart's musing; They blink and glance down on the floor. In the midst of wiping the dining table and kitchen counters, Aggro made himself known by weaving in between Sweetheart's long legs. Sweetheart smiles fondly when his tail wraps itself around their left leg. 

"Hey there, handsome. Are you hungry?" They coo at Milo's furbaby. 

Aggro meows loudly in confirmation before rushing towards his food and water bowls. When Sweetheart is too slow for his liking, he expectantly looks back and meow once more. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Sweetheart assures the cat and grab some cans of wet tuna from the upper cupboard. They crack the cans open and dump them all into the food bowl. 

Without any seconds to waste, Aggro dive in. For an elderly cat, he sure has an active appetite. 

And so, while Aggro is happily munching on his dinner, Sweetheart fills his near-empty bowl of water and finish up cleaning the rest of the kitchen. What should they have for dinner, they wondered. They got enough ingredients in the fridge to cook stir-fry noodles with veggies for four servings but would Milo be in a mood for something home cook? 

Today is their date night, but he might be running a little late to head out to their usual bistro. What with the preparations for the E&E Games and all. 

"I should probably text him if he has any plans tonight..." Sweetheart decided. They pad into the living room to wind down on the couch. 

The moment they sink into the couch, Aggro runs towards Sweetheart and jumps onto the couch too. Sweetheart giggles when the cat tentatively climbs onto their chest and settle himself comfortably on Sweetheart's stomach. 

"Will you hang out with me, Aggro?" Sweetheart asks while petting Aggro's head, their smile widens when the cat leans into their warm touch. Aggro slowly blink his eyes at Sweetheart and trills, much to their delight. Their voice drops to baby talk as they scratch underneath Aggro's chin. "You will!? Milo might call me his Sweetheart, but you're definitely mine, Aggro. Aww, who's a good kitty? You are, handsome!"

Cuddling with Aggro on the couch after a long day of work melts the tension and stress on Sweetheart's shoulders like butter in the middle of Summer. It helps that Aggro is such an even-tempered cat too. Some pets near the butt and a few rubs on his head make Aggro one happy Ragdoll. 

It's only when Aggro starts to yawn and curl himself into a loaf that Sweetheart begin to feel sleepy too. 

So after shooting a quick text to Milo, Sweetheart cuddles with Aggro a bit longer before sleep claims them both. 

After a whole afternoon napping with Aggro, Sweetheart wakes up to a gentle shake on their arm and an exhausted yet happy Milo leaning over them. "Hey, Sweetheart. Aggro keeping you company, huh?"

Said cat's ears and tail flickers in response but otherwise remain as a loaf of bread on Sweetheart's stomach. 

"Welcome home, Milo." Sweetheart sleepily greets Milo. When he leans closer for a kiss, they oblige him. 

"Thanks, Sweetheart." Milo's heart jumps, seeing how both his Mate and cat are so comfortable together. It's a wholesome sight to return home to. "Got your message a while back. Do you think you're still up to have our date night, or do you want to take a rain check?"

Sweetheart ponders for a moment. "I'm good. Give me a few hours to get change, and we can go." Sweetheart replies with a big yawn.

It isn't difficult for Milo to assume that his Mate had a long day. So an idea suddenly comes to him. "Scoot over. I want to join in on this cuddle session too."

While Sweetheart does as Milo requested, Aggro protests. He jumps away from them when Milo lies down on the couch beside his Mate; it's a tight fit, but they manage. Especially after he wraps his arms around Sweetheart and pulls them close to his chest. 

"We still got some time before the dinner rush sets in the bistro," Milo explains as they snuggle; he loves when Sweetheart starts to hum in content. "We can nap for half an hour, and then it's date night, OK?"

"Sounds like a plan."

[wordsintimeandspace]

Step by Step

Aziraphale and Crowley finally get to be together, but they still have to define the bounds of their relationship. Step by step, they figure out what they're both comfortable with.

Aziraphale/Crowley, rated T, ~2.2k words. Written for @aceomenszine. Read on AO3!

“There you go, my dear,” Aziraphale said softly as he held out the mug of tea to the pile of blankets covering Crowley. The pile moved and shifted, until finally Crowley’s face emerged. He reached out just far enough to grab the handle and quickly pulled his hand back into the blankets.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a large gulp that surely would have scalded his tongue without the miracle Aziraphale performed in the last second. Aziraphale wrung his hands in front of his belly, nervously watching how the colour slowly returned to Crowley’s pale cheeks.

“I really am sorry,” Aziraphale said, for what felt like the tenth time in the last half an hour. Crowley gave him a sour look over his mug, but it had lost a bit of its sting already.

“‘S fine,” he grumbled. “Just don’t drag me out of the house again if I tell you it’s gonna rain.”

Aziraphale winced. The rain had been bad, coming down suddenly and vigorously, and drenching them within seconds. It had taken only a miracle to dry them once they made it home, but the short way from the village back to the cottage had been enough for the chill to settle in Crowley’s bones. “I won’t,” Aziraphale promised, still hesitating in front of the couch where Crowley was curled up.

Crowley sighed, the last bit of irritation melting away. “Angel, stop fretting. Just come here.”

Aziraphale didn’t need to be told twice. He gratefully sank onto the couch next to Crowley and pulled the demon into his arms. Crowley quickly set the mug onto the coffee table, and once it was out of the way he melted into Aziraphale’s embrace. His nose was still ice cold where it pressed into the skin of Aziraphale’s neck, but Aziraphale could hardly complain about that. Instead he brought his arms around Crowley, gently rubbing his arms and back to get some warmth back into his body.

“Better?” he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head.

“Yeah,” Crowley muttered, although he still sounded slightly miserable. Aziraphale tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at him, and tightened his grip around Crowley’s shoulders. He couldn’t miss the shudder that ran through Crowley in response, and only hoped that it wasn’t due to the cold this time.

His fingers suddenly stilled against Crowley’s back as a thought popped into his mind. There was one more thing he could do to make Crowley more comfortable. He’d prepared for this, quietly hoped for the opportunity to offer, but now that it was there, he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. It might be too much. Too intimate. He didn’t want to overstep the boundaries Crowley had carefully laid out to him, shortly after the failed apocalypse when it had finally been safe to be together.

Crowley interrupted his train of thought, not giving him any more time to overthink. “Whatever you want to say, out with it, angel,” he mumbled against Aziraphale’s neck.

“I just had an idea,” Aziraphale started, a bit hesitantly. “I could draw you a bath, if you’d like.”

Crowley was still for a moment, but then his head perked up. “You know I’m not really mad anymore, right?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I know. Or — well, I’d hoped so.”

“So you really don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Aziraphale protested. He slid his hands from Crowley’s back up to his face, gently cupping his cheeks. “Let me take care of you, darling.”

Crowley let out a strangled sound in the back of his throat and pressed his face back into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Fine,” he grumbled eventually, and Aziraphale’s heart ached at the desperate longing in Crowley’s voice, barely concealed by his feigned exasperation. Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head, and untangled himself from the embrace.

“I’ll call you when the bath is ready,” he said softly and Crowley nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

~~~

The bathroom was on the upper floor, right opposite the bedroom that Crowley usually occupied at night. It had come with the cottage when they bought it just a few months ago, but until now neither of them had used it much. Still, the clawfoot bathtub that stood in front of the window overlooking the garden was in pristine condition, not a speck of dust on it. On the windowsill, along with a few of Crowley’s plants, stood an array of bath supplements that Aziraphale had gathered in the last months. He’d always hoped the demon might make use of them once the weather turned in autumn. Allowing himself a pleased smile, Aziraphale turned on the tap and selected a bottle of bubble bath.

Only minutes later, the door opened behind him. Crowley stood in the door frame, still wrapped in a blanket. He stopped for a moment, blinking in what might have been surprise at the pile of bubbles and the scent of oranges and cinnamon wafting through the air. Then he smiled — a soft, quiet smile that made Aziraphale’s heart skip a beat.

“Here you go, darling,” Aziraphale said as he shut off the water. “Let me get a towel for you and then I’ll be out of your way.” He turned to the cabinet next to the sink while Crowley shuffled towards the bathtub. It took him a second to find the fluffiest towel they owned. When he finally turned back around, the sight that greeted him made him freeze in his tracks, heart thundering hard against his ribs.

Crowley was standing beside the tub, suddenly very naked. Aziraphale had heard the snap of Crowley’s fingers, had felt the miracle in the air, but he still hadn’t been prepared for that. The towel slipped through his fingers in shock while Crowley, oblivious to his reaction, leaned down to test the temperature of the water with his fingertips.

For a moment, Aziraphale couldn’t help but stare. He let his eyes roam over Crowley’s narrow shoulders, dusted with freckles, and down his lean back. He watched his muscles shift as Crowley straightened, and desperately tried to suppress the urge to reach out, to touch all the bits of skin that were usually covered and were now laid bare to Aziraphale for the first time in millenia. Before he could stop himself, Aziraphale’s gaze slipped even lower, and that was what finally pulled him out of his stupor. With a barely concealed yelp he whirled around, staring at the tiled wall instead of at Crowley.

“Sorry!” he managed to stammer, heat rising on his cheeks. “I’ll — ah, I’ll leave you to it, shall I?”

“Angel?” Crowley asked, sounding confused. Aziraphale didn’t need to look at him to know that there was a frown on his face.

"I — I'm sorry. I didn't want to impose."

“You’re not. What are you on about?”

“It’s just — ah. I wasn’t —” He trailed off, unsure how to put his whirling thoughts into words.

“Aziraphale. Will you look at me?”

Aziraphale thought about it for a second — about the sight of Crowley, still naked, but facing him this time — and quickly shook his head.

Crowley let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’ll just get into the bath,” he started. There was movement behind him, followed by a splash of water and a content sigh. “There. You can turn around.”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath, and did just that.

The bathtub was big enough for Crowley to fully submerge in the water. He sat in the heap of bubbles, only his head, shoulders and one arm sticking out. The arm was curled over the rim of the tub, Crowley’s head resting on top of it. To Aziraphale’s relief, he didn’t look at all uncomfortable at Aziraphale’s presence. Quite the contrary, although there was still that frown on his face, a little line between his brows that Aziraphale wanted to kiss away.

“Better?” Crowley asked, his voice oh so gentle.

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Don’t apologize. If someone should do that, it’s me. Shouldn’t have sprung that on you without warning.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind, I promise. I just . . .”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t want to assume you would be comfortable with all this. I didn’t want to impose. And when I offered the bath, I didn’t want to imply . . . other things.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?" Crowley raised an eyebrow, so high that it nearly vanished under the hair falling into his face.

"It is. It's just, you have made it perfectly clear before what you think about certain, ah, naked activities. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

A snort escaped Crowley's lips. "This isn't sex, angel. This is me taking a bath. Haven't even made an effort."

"I know it isn't!" A flush rose on Aziraphale's cheeks all over again, spreading down his chest. "But you've thoroughly teased me about my collection of romance novels, so we both know where this usually goes, at least when humans are involved. I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I didn’t have any ulterior motives, I promise."

"Angel," Crowley began, his voice suddenly unbearably soft. "I've known you for 6000 years. I couldn't get the wrong idea even if I tried. I know you would never do anything I'm not comfortable with."

Aziraphale let out a breath. "Thank you, my dear,” he said quietly, finally meeting Crowley’s eyes. “So you're comfortable with this?"

Crowley stretched lazily like a cat in the sun. Again, Aziraphale couldn’t stop his gaze moving over his body — taking in the long arms stretched over the rim of the bathtub, the curve of his neck, all exposed with his head thrown back, and his lean chest jutting out of the water that hid his more private parts. By the time he moved his eyes back to Crowley’s face, Crowley was smirking at him. "Lounging naked in the bathtub while you ogle me?” Crowley drawled. “Yes, very comfortable with that, angel."

"Oh, I didn't —" Aziraphale spluttered, but Crowley only laughed.

"You did. And it’s fine, angel. Come here and kiss me."

Aziraphale let out a slow breath, and felt the tension draining out of his body along with it. How was he supposed to say no to that?

He picked up the towel he’d dropped, if only to give him a moment to compose himself, and stepped at Crowley’s side. He dropped to his knees next to the bathtub, a pillow appearing beneath him at the snap of Crowley’s fingers, and reached out to cup Crowley’s cheek. Crowley leaned into the touch, letting out a content hum as his eyes slipped closed. The sheer trust and contentment on Crowley’s face took Aziraphale’s breath away. He stilled, not wanting to break this moment, unable to tear his gaze away. But then Crowley opened an eye, raised an eyebrow in question, and Aziraphale couldn’t deny him his silent request any longer. He leaned in, brushing his lips over Crowley’s in a kiss so gentle Aziraphale felt like it might shatter him to his core.

They stayed like that for a long moment, just relishing the closeness. After what might have been seconds or minutes or hours, they finally broke apart. A bit breathless, Aziraphale searched Crowley’s face for any sign of discomfort, but there was nothing but bliss.

“Alright?” Crowley asked softly, his eyes still closed.

“Very much so, darling. And you?”

“Perfect. You know, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to join me in here.”

Aziraphale started at that, pulling back a little. For a moment, he was thrown off by just how much he wanted it. The thought made his head swim and his heart race, but still — it was a lot. Too much, maybe, at least for today. “I’m —” he started, his voice breaking before he could get anything else out.

“You don’t have to, obviously,” Crowley added, suddenly looking nervous.

Aziraphale quickly shook his head. “It’s . . . it’s not that. I think I might like that. I just . . . I don’t know. Next time, maybe, if you’ll still want to?”

Crowley caught his hand before he could fully retreat. Slowly, giving Aziraphale time to pull out of his grasp if he wanted to, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Course I will.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Aziraphale smiled, squeezing Crowley’s hand before he cupped the side of Crowley’s head once more, moving his fingers over his cheek and into his hair.

Crowley craned his neck, leaning into the touch as he let his eyes slip closed again. “We haven’t really talked about this, have we?” he mumbled after silently enjoying the caress for a while. “What we like, what we don’t like. Except for the sex bit, of course.”

Aziraphale let out a quiet laugh. “I feel like we should. At some point. Although I’m afraid I don’t really know what I like, when it comes to a lot of these things. I haven’t done this with anyone else, obviously.”

“That’s alright. We’ve got all the time in the world. We can figure it out one step at a time.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft. “I’d love to do that.”

[thran-duils]

Key to the Garden (P.1)

Title: Key to the Garden (Part One) Summary: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Witch Reader (main pairing), but on the side, Dark!Tony Stark x Reader, Dark!Sam Wilson x Reader, Dark!Zemo x Reader. Y/N lives in one of the many fringe covens with her family along with a few other small families that did not want to be roped into the powerhouse coven community, Shield, ran by the Maximoff, Stark, Wilson, and Zemo witch and warlock legacies. Y/N’s grandmother had a run in with the coven community in her youth and she is mostly mum about the incident, but makes it clear that Y/N should stay as far away as she can from them. But when the Shield community discovers where their community is and demands they send someone to teach at their school for upcoming magical beings with threats and when it is demanded that someone from the Y/L/N family be the volunteer, Y/N does not resist to make sure no one else is subjected to them, much to her grandmother’s dismay. Little does Y/N know that a particular head in the community had been searching for them for a very long time and she is going to satisfy a very, very long held grudge. Word Count: 1,893  Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, imprisonment, orgy, forced pregnancy, death, violence, 18+

Introduction || Part Two || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

Your grandmother grasped your hand tightly as you told the soldiers you would go with them in her stead. Your grandmother had foolishly thought that you would allow her to go from the coven to the Shield Academy, the place she had warned you about since you were able to walk. Locking eyes, you saw the terror in her eyes and guilt washed over knowing you were making her feel that. But you were also doing this for her so she did not have to go. She deserved to be able to relax in her old age and live out her days protected in your coven. You had decades upon decades ahead of you.

Tearing your hand from hers, you told her, “Be well. The willow rejuvenates.”

Tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes spilled over as she saw you turn away, being guided into the carriage to take you away.

<><><>

Wanda came down the spiral, stone stairs from her tower in a rush. The servants of the academy went against the wall when they saw her coming, backs straight, giving her a deep bow. The hallway was at least fifteen feet across, more than enough space, but it was done out of respect and custom. They would be berated if they walked past her or any of the other leaders. The custom was not bestowed upon merely the teachers.

Turning the corner to face a flight of stairs, she spotted Sam waiting at the bottom. He was waiting for her having known she had been up in her tower for the better part of the morning.

“Heard that they’re back with two carriages from the other covens,” Sam said to Wanda, falling into side beside her as she walked.

“I didn’t see a second, but I saw the one,” Wanda replied.

“Was it who you were hoping? Was it Elena?”

“No.”

Sam’s face screwed up in confusion and said, “Well, maybe they screwed up.”

“They didn’t,” Wanda said clipped, which only served to confuse him more. She sensed his bewilderment and she offered tightly, “I know she’s from the right coven. It was like I was seeing a ghost when she came out of the carriage.”

Sam ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, contemplating as they turned a corner towards the front door. The students in the hall parted seeing two of their leaders, giving them curt bows that Sam and Wanda ignored in turn. Much like with the servants, they were not equals to their leaders.

In quieter tones, Sam asked, “Well, do you think she is going to be able to provide the same—”

“I’m not sure, Sam,” Wanda cut in sharply, an air of annoyance about her.

She was high strung, that much was clear to Sam. She had been ever since she had figured out where Elena was and sent their soldiers out to retrieve someone from the coven, preferably Elena. Wanda had given instructions to suggest her, wanting Elena to make the decision on her own because she knew how altruistic Elena was. She wanted Elena to choose to come back to her, even if it was through unscrupulous means.

The other leaders of the academy – Sam, Tony, and Helmut – knew of the shared past with Elena and Wanda. She had not shared the finer details of their relationship past they had worked together, but Wanda knew the men were not daft – they could discern the intimacy that Wanda and Elena had shared. Had shared… before Elena pulled away, taking her power and just as important, her affection with her, leaving Wanda alone.

When Wanda stepped down into the entrance hall and was faced with this woman, she felt her skin was on fire. All the past touches, and late nights wrapped in each other’s arms came rushing back to her. It took everything in her to not stride forward and encompass the woman to her as if she was coming back from a long journey and was finally back home safe. Wanda only outwardly flinched in her fingers in her inner turmoil.

The young woman’s features were even more strikingly similar to Elena up close. A picturesque witch that threatened from the moment Wanda laid eyes on her to drag her under her spell. Wanda’s lips parted, feeling as if her breath was stolen from her. She was stronger than this, she need not fall under this woman’s spell. But her nose, her lips, the hair… it all tugged at Wanda. The eyes were different though. That may be for the better, Wanda thought to herself. It would help her to prevent herself from confusing the two completely and allowing her past feelings to overtake her in the presence of this woman.

Behind the woman trailed a Cross fox that was curiously looking around the entrance hall. Wanda admired the coloring of it. Its face and legs were black, with trails of black throughout the rest of its orange fur. It was sleek, its eyes piercing. She would need to be careful around this creature.

The woman came closer to Sam and Wanda, reading the signs from the surrounding guard that they were the people she needed to be greeting with how they were standing erect and leaving them their space. She smiled warmly and Wanda felt a pang. The smile was so similar to the one Elena used to give her lovingly.

“Thank you for the comfortable carriage,” the woman said in an even tone.

Wanda saw past the civility though; she was not happy she was collected and taken away. And that was only prodding gently at her mind because she was unable to penetrate further. Wanda’s jaw ticked; Elena had certainly trained her family against mind manipulation; she was going to be unable to capitalize on that. The girl had a solid wall up and all Wanda could do was scratch at the surface.

She gave a curt bow and Wanda gave a tight lipped smile in return. Sam was ever careful about his reactions, gauging what he should do depending on Wanda. Sam bowed his head in acknowledgment towards the girl.

“Your name?” Wanda asked.

“Y/N.”

Wanda savored the way the name would roll off her tongue, her mind flashing to whispering the name in late night corridors, beckoning her to her chambers.

“I’m Wanda. This is Sam. We are two of the four leaders at the school. The others – Tony and Helmut – you’ll meet later at dinner. Along with the other teachers of course.”

“Pleasured. I’ve heard a lot about the reputation of this school. I sadly never attended due to the nature of my coven.”

“Every coven has their own rules, and we respect that.” That was a lie. Wanda wanted every coven under her rule, but it served her now to lie. “You must be tired. Can they gather your things, and you can come inside to have us show you to your quarters?”

Y/N patted her thigh and ordered, “Ember.” The fox came to her side and sat down obediently.

“An impressive choice for a familiar,” Sam told her. “Not very conspicuous to have one trotting after you.”

With an amused smile, Y/N told him, “Oh, she is not a familiar. She’s my pet. My familiar Nyx is somewhere. My cat. She took off as soon as I opened the door, but she will come back. Is that frowned upon?”

“No, familiars are allowed to roam as long as they don’t cause trouble,” Sam answered.

“I promise she won’t. I’m not expecting danger here.”

She was calculated that much Wanda was gathering right now. That last sentence especially was insinuating she was on her toes with the flash in her eyes, ready for them to betray her.

Wanda gestured towards the front door, “We can give a brief tour on the way to your rooms. They’ll bring your things, don’t worry about that.”

Y/N walked forward, the fox following behind. Wanda was taking note the fox looked extremely protective of Y/N. She would soon have to figure out how to separate them or gain the fox’s trust. The latter seemed more likely if she played her cards right.

On the way to her rooms, a long-haired white cat came running up the hall and came to stride in front of them, tossing looks over its shoulder at Y/N, Wanda, and Sam.

Wanda’s brow furrowed; she had never seen this cat before. And that is when she realized it was Y/N’s familiar. The cat was leveling Wanda with a hard gaze even in its brief glances at both her and Sam; it did not trust them, She could sense that.

Playing it cool, Wanda gave a little chuckle, catching Y/N’s attention.

“You named a white cat Nyx,” Wanda commented, amused. “You’ll need a sense of humor around here.”

<><><>

After settling Y/N into her chambers, Wanda had brought Sam away to go towards the south tower where Tony and Helmut were prepping for the spring equinox. Spell bags were scattered along the table, ones they would hand out to select students and allow them to cast them themselves to they could bring renewal to the academy.

Tony caught sight of them entering and noticed her demeanor. “What’s going on?”

“The new recruits we sent for are here.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Helmut questioned, a layer of confusion in his tone at Wanda’s stiffness.

Wanda grabbed a handful of jasmine petals from the stone bowl at the end of the room, heading towards the alter. “We are still going to need a sacrifice. Maybe a handful until she gets on board.”

Tony shrugged, “We were expecting that. But light at the end of the tunnel. With Elena here now, you’ll have to work less eventually.”

“She’s not here,” Wanda clipped, her body stiff with her frustration.

Tony’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“She didn’t come.” It sounded like it was difficult for her to admit that. Like she had personally failed.

“Then what is going on?” Helmut asked, taking a step forward towards her away from where he was prepping.

She held a hand up and he stopped. His eyes flicked to her palms, knowing what she was capable of. The three men were powerful, but they could not hold a candle to her if they took her on on their own.

“The plan is going forward as we planned.”

“How without Elena?” Tony asked, sounding short of patience now.

“I have her blood still.”

“Did you go drain her?” Tony asked, his tone getting tighter, breeching on sarcastic. He was an impatient person and had little room for the appetite to put up with people toying with him.

“No,” Wanda said dismissively, walking past them to go throw her petals into the alter for good fortune and protection.

Sam came up beside Tony and Helmut, hands in his pockets. Out the corner of his mouth he said, “The granddaughter came. Wanda is in a tizzy. She expected a crone, and she got the fertile, spitting image.” Tony and Helmut both were heedful at the mention of fertile and Sam did not miss it, a smirk breaking out. Finally turning his head, he met Tony’s eyes and then Helmut’s briefly each before walking forward and grabbing the jasmine petals to offer.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai 

Fic tags: @ivybarns 

[everafterkeiji]

ah! ok, um, is it ok if i request a hc with any of the hq and bnha boys ur comfortable writing for (u can do however many u feel like :)) with an s/o who’s scared of the dark? maybe add a little something about one of them getting glow in the dark stars for y/n’s room and saying that the stars are there in the dark to protect them? idk if that’s cheesy or not lol but yeah, i’m afraid i’m a bit of a scaredy-cat myself so i rush into my room as fast as i can when turning off the lights hehe. anyways, take ur time and take care of yourself ily <33

A/N: and I'm back- im v sorry for taking so long but I'll be posting the haikyuu one in another part but thank you so much for requesting kate love u v much mwah ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ

BNHA Boys Reacting to Y/N being afraid of the dark!

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 will not hesitate to visit your room often as he could and provides light in the best of ways.

When he first found out, he deeply understood and offered to walk you on your way home when it was getting a little too late from training then he soon found himself nervously knocking your door in the middle of the night to see how you're doing.

"Hey- it's very late but are you o-okay?" He asks, a hand to the back of his neck with worried eyes as you stare at him with a smile- a little embarrassed that you were face to face with him in your sleep wear.

"Honestly, I couldn't sleep properly." You answered while he frowns, upset that you were probably up all night. With an idea lighting up in his mind, he speaks.

"I'll be back okay? Leave the door open for me. I'm just going to get something." He says with a smile while you nodded while he dashes off looking excited. You proceeded to your bed waiting for him, enjoying the light that the open door gave you. A few minutes pass and a panting Deku with multiple objects in hand. You chuckled at the sight while you let him in as he closes the door before letting a flashlight lit the room.

"What's all this?" You asked, pointing to the materials laid out on your bed while a blush creeps up on the boys cheek.

"I thought that I could make more of those light up stars to help you sleep better." Izuku says while your heart flutters at his comment.

"Let's do it then."

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 will be your night light and he'll also be the type to wait until you were asleep so he can make sure you're safe with him.

"What is it- oi stop moving around." Bakugo says while you shuffle in your sheets as your boyfriend questions your nervousness. Was it because it was your first night together? Fair enough, he hasn't known about that fear of yours but he's beginning to put the pieces all at once when he feels your grip on him tighten.

"Sheesh, it's just darkness." He says scoffing before you roll your eyes, pushing him off jokingly while you let your eyes close trying to ease the anxiety.

Seeing that you turned away from him, he sighs before pulling you to him, nudging you with his elbow.

"Look at this." He says while he sits up and you following his actions. The palm of his emits light, surprising you with the sound of a tiny explosion. He continues to hold it out in front of you, seeing the darkness of your room fade being replaced in orange tinted shadows.

"Bakugo- you don't have to do this. I'll be fine." You assured him so he doesn't overuse his quirk before classes. Although it was a small spark, you knew better than to keep him from resting.

"Stop lying. Just.. sleep. I'll be here anyways." The last bit of his sentence trailed off as if he was nervous to show his concern but sighing in defeat, you laid down slinging an arm over his waist, cuddling up on his side enjoying his warmth. You smile at him before speaking.

"Thank you, Katsuki." You bid him before closing your eyes while he sighs as well, wrapping his free arm around your shoulder watching you fall quietly.

He stares at the dirty light up stars on your room while he takes a mental note to remove them since he was always up to help you.

Once he feels how deep in slumber you were, the explosions from his hands die down while he lies with you slowly, careful to not wake you.

He looks at your sleeping state before sighing remembering that you feared this dark room. He then plants a swift kiss on your hair, looking at you once again.

"I'll be right here every day."

𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 would simply let you fall asleep to his nightly stories to make sure your mind doesn't fall on the hands of fear.

"Then Bakugo taught me how to dodge the attack without using my quirk then use my agility instead!" Kirishima rants following some hand movements as you chuckle with you on his chest as he carries on. He feels how your grip has loosened compared to how it was when he first got in bed with you.

With his endless stories, he too notices how your eyes grew heavy.

"Too tired from today?" He asks softly, his hands lost in your hair making it harder to stay awake.

"Not really. I just stayed up too long cause I- got scared." He looks at you with concern, while he intertwines your hands with his.

"Scared of what babe?"

"Is it silly if I say the dark?" He blinks for a second but then he shakes his head before pulling you closer to him before landing a loving kiss to your temple.

"It's never silly, bub. Your savior is here!" He says proudly, a cheeky grin making you laugh as you hold onto him more, closing your eyes as he smiles at the sight of you. From this day onwards, it seems like he's got a new mission but this mission was way easier and more important than the rest because he'd save you thousands of times before seeing you scared to wits.

"You sure are a hero, Eiji."

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 would mindlessly offer his embrace.

After seeing how quick you were to run to your room on heavy hours of training when the sun got down, he wondered too much about you. It was either you had your own plans or maybe a certain villain was out to capture you. Both options still got him curious.

So the next day of training and learning about which weaknesses of yours could be encountered in a fight, he hears an answer from you that might have gained his interest on you more.

"I prefer to avoid fights when it's dark." You said to Momo, Shoto looks at you with raised eyebrows but he understood either way. If he had his own fears that got in his way, he's sure that yours can get in your way too. Knowing you two share the same liking to each other, he decided to step up and find a solution to lessen your fear.

So when he was right at your door, knocking lightly, he thinks if his phone provided him with the correct answers.

"Todoroki? Hi, what are you doing here?" You asked him, pulling him softly inside your room while he looks around seeing stars decorating the place. He mentally checks off one of the options seeing that you already bought some of them to ease the fear a bit.

"I overheard you with Yaoyorozu and I'm here to help with this. "

"With—"

You were cut off by the tall boy engulfing you in a sweet embrace with his chin on the crown of your head as his hands were placed on your waist as he disregards his racing heartbeat seeing that he put zero hesitation in doing the top option in his research.

"It's okay to be scared of the dark." he assures you, but your focus wasn't on his words— it was on the fact that held you this close and that he knew about your fear. You were thankful that he didn't think it was childish or pathetic but you were too busy thinking about how his first way of showing his concern was like this.

With that, you hugged him back and with his closed eyes, you two had smiles tugged on your lips.

"Thank you, Shoto."

𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 lets your laugh echo through the room making you forget about all your worries.

Denki has always been charismatic when it comes to you. No matter how many jokes he threw, funny or not, you'd always smile or give him a reaction that he loves to receive but all jokes were sent aside when you mentioned your fear of darkness.

You brought up the topic when Sero had sparked up the conversation of what you hated the most and when you said yours, Kaminari was all ears and his mind began running on how to make things a little better for you. It must've been hard, he thinks. Darkness was everywhere so he had to help.

After some exhaustion from training and frustration from battling with Bakugo, he can tell how you were on edge as you went straight to your room after dinner. He knew sleeping peacefully wasn't going to be easy to accomplish today so he let his feet guide him to your room right when he finished his meal.

"Denki here!" He says while knocking. You open the door and he sees how you've wrapped yourself in a blanket, but your eyes bared no sign that you slept.

"Hey Kami, what're you doing here?" You asked him while he enters your room, pouting at how your lamp had flickering lights meaning it's energy was about to fail you. So, he walks right over to the lamp and places his hand on top of it and uses his quirk to make sure the light doesn't flicker anymore. Seeing that it was working properly again, he realizes he didn't want to leave yet.

"Oh thanks, Denki." You said smiling at him while he sits on your bed with an idea coming to his mind.

"I've got a story to tell!"

And a few minutes later, you've got yourself beside him with his arm draped on your shoulder while your laugh became too loud mixed with his making your sleepiness fade.

"Okay okay but you've got to sleep, Y/N. Don't overwork yourself tomorrow or else." He says with a chuckle while you laid down as he gets off your bed.

"Or else what Denki?"

"You'll find out tomorrow." he says, while you bid him goodnight. He comes closer to you just when you close your eyes as he gives a peck to your cheek while blushing furiously when your eyes opened at his actions. He immediately walks away muttering a quick good night as you chuckled when he sprints to the door making you turn off your lamp with a smile.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

[sparks-joy-imagines]

Heya! How are you guys doing tonight?

Can i request a Zoro x Vinsmoke!Reader? (where the reader is Sanji’s sister) Where Zoro is struggling to confess his feelings for her and anytime he tries Sanji barges into the room since he knows the mossball likes his sister and is doing everything he can to stop it?

sorry if that request is confusing! Thanks!

Hey lovely! I hope you had something like this in mind~ Did Zoro actually ever call Sanji by his name? I actually had to look up Sanji's nicknames cause I never pay attention to them (shame on me OTL) Hope you can enjoy it dear 😘 - mesu.

Roronoa Zoro x Vinsmoke!reader

Zoro was pissed. And rightfully so in his opinion. Not that it had taken him the better half of a month to finally admit to himself that he had feelings for you. No. It seemed the moment he had built up the courage to confess to you - yes, even the pirate hunter had to work up his guts to confess to very possibly the love of his life - Curly Brows had caught wind of his intentions.

Sure enough, the cook had warned every single man on board to stay the heck away from his darling sister when you decided to stick around for a while. Back then Zoro hadn’t paid much attention since he simply didn’t care all that much. You were pleasant enough company and that’s it, or so he thought.

In hindsight, he should have known how your vibes would affect him. You were the most stunning and fun person he had ever met and for once he didn’t mind you sticking around when he trained or when you sat next to him when he napped while secretly listening to the crew’s antics. In fact, he was more bothered by you not being around than when you were by now.

But whenever he tried to tell you exactly this, your brother appeared out of thin air. Zoro was certain Curly Brows had a sixth sense for when you were alone with him, so that he could barge in with refreshments, a new parfait he had to get your expert opinion on or simply what you wanted to eat for lunch. Anything really to stop Zoro from actually having a conversation with you. It really seemed like a lost cause. Zoro sighed deeply, something he caught himself doing more and more often lately, when something hit his head and bounced off of him. He had been lost in thought so much that he hadn’t even seen it coming. On closer inspection it turned out he was hit by an orange most likely originating from Nami’s garden. It was then that he heard your laughter echoing down.

“What are you so troubled about, pretty boy?” you teased from up above in the crow’s nest.

Zoro’s eyebrow twitched a little, but he couldn’t be mad at you. Especially, when you called him pretty.

“If you’re so hung up about something, why don’t you keep me company up here instead of sulking down there by yourself?”

Zoro was about to decline when he realised that you were the only two people on deck. The others had headed in when the sun set and by now your brother should be more than busy with preparing dinner and keeping Luffy from eating the ingredients in the meantime.

“Just wait a sec,” Zoro grunted before he got up, grabbed his swords and ascended the mast.

As soon as he joined you on the crow’s nest a strong gust of wind reached the two of you, making him shudder slightly while your hair danced around your face, your coat definitely shielding you better from the cold than his kimono ever could.

You wordlessly handed him one of the blankets that always lay prepared and let him get comfortable beside you. A couple moments passed in silence before you shot him a glance.

“Soo… you wanna talk about it or what?”

Zoro – by now sprawled out over the crow’s nest – gazed back at you with his deep eyes and you felt a shiver running down your spine. Something in the atmosphere shifted again as it had so often in these past couple days whenever you two were on your own.

Still, you couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind it all while you were sucked into his orbs which seemed to convey more than words ever could.

It seemed an eternity passed before Zoro finally opened his mouth to reply, “(Y/N).. I lo–”

“(Y/N)-chwaaaaaan! Dinner’s served! ”

Both of you winced when you heard Sanji’s voice booming over the deck. He had caught you entirely off guard and going by the sounds of his Skywalk he was currently on his way to where you were.

Soon Sanji landed on the edge of the railing, his smiling face immediately succumbing to a frown once he saw Zoro with you.

“I thought I told you to stay the heck away from my sister, mosshead.”

Up until now Sanji had never directly told Zoro to back off of you, but seeing you curled up this close in a quite romantic spot made his blood boil.

Zoro returned Sanji’s frown and snapped, “Not like it’s up to you to decide who (Y/N) hangs out with.”

“Oh, yeah? As her brother it is my duty to protect her chastity, especially from the likes of y– Ouch!”

Before the two of them could spiral down their usual path of rivalrous fighting you had given a quick jab to Sanji’s ribs. It didn’t hurt much but definitely shut him up.

“Just listen to the two of you! What’s going on these days? You are crew mates are you not? I’ve never been on board a ship with such animosity between its members! Seriously..”

It felt good finally voicing the thoughts that had been circling in your head, yet the lacking reaction of either of the concerned parties irritated you even more. They wouldn’t even look at each other!

“And you!” you turned to your brother and poked his chest with your index finger, “how come you make up the most ridiculous excuses to join in whenever I’m doing something with Zoro, huh? It’s fine when I’m alone with any other guy – crafting with Usopp, working with Franky, playing music with Brook or just chilling with Luffy – but what’s so wrong about Zoro?”

“Of course I’m trying to get him away from you! He’s the only guy around here who has a crush on you! Or am I the only one to notice the obvious?!”

Silence fell as your eyes widened.

“W-what?”

You slowly turned to Zoro who rubbed his head, clearly uncomfortable and kind of unnerved.

“I… may enjoy your company more than I initially thought.”

You turned back to your brother who massaged the spot between his brows, looking like he was about to get a headache. But who was there to blame but himself?

After another moment he finally grumbled, “Fine… Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I’ll leave you to it then. But let me make one thing crystal clear, Mosshead” – he stepped over to Zoro and hissed under his breath – ” You hurt her and I will kill you.”

With these words Sanji took his leave and left you and Zoro behind to work things out.

[iamverysmall-andihavenomoney]

Hi I just found your account and I enjoy your writing a lot the flow of it is refreshing that’s besides the point though 😤✋I was wondering if you would write a street racing AU where Kenma and Kouroo are interested in someone from a rival group

Street Racer Rivalries

Haikyū!! Masterlist

Pairings: Street Racer! Mechanic! Kozume Kenma x Mechanic! Street Racer! Gender Neutral! Reader, Street Racer! Kuroo Tetsurō x Street Racer! Mechanic! Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Street Racing AUs, Saffron shows off their lack of car knowledge, illegal street racing, rivalries, strong language, talk of racing injuries.

A/N: Hi there! Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy it! ☺️ But umm -- yes? I live for this idea (i might even make a series out of it, if anyone wants 🤷) but thank you for the request!

Kenma Kozume

He really doesn't like racing, let's be honest.

If he could, Kenma would stay in his shop all day long.

Hell, it's not like he needs the money.

He's such a well-known mechanic in the underground racing scene, he easily makes all of the money he could ever need.

His only real competition is Akaashi Keiji and someone named L/N Y/N?

Akaashi he could deal with, as Fukurōdani's group was rather well acquainted with Nekoma, hell, the held practice races all of the time.

But whoever this other up-and-coming mechanic was, was seriously pissing him off.

It wasn't that they were stealing all of his customers, he still had a lot of business.

It was that they just had to be with Karasuno.

The one group Kuroo was obsessed with besting - in everything.

Plus, who could have such a reputation for someone who'd only just joined the scene?

They, along with Karasuno's newest racers had put the group on a fast-track to the top.

They hadn't surpassed Karasuno.

Yet.

He wasn't sure why hearing your name pissed him off as much as it did.

But here he was, ranting to Kuroo as he worked on one of the group's main racing vehicles.

"Why won't Shōyō tell me anything about them either? They're so secretive about this new mechanic - all of them. Are they waiting for a fucking debut, here?"

"It took years for Nekoma to get the reputation it has, same for everyone else. Why does someone with no prior affiliation with any group, so easily surpass so many people?"

Then Kuroo worsens it by teasing Kenma.

"Are you sure this isn't just because Hinata is keeping a secret from you, for once?"

Now, it's a month later - the first big race in a while.

Lately, the cops had been far too aware of where the groups would be for anyone's comfort, so they collectively decided to lay low for a while.

And he's finally getting to see Karasuno in a big race.

He wasn't sure of everyone's official racers - but you usually weren't, until they lined themselves up.

Kenma wasn't particularly invested in the race, more here to finally see if you were all everyone talked you up to be.

"Are you really trying to 'wow' them in a tank top and coveralls?" Bokuto turns his nose up as he looks over Kenma's choice in clothing.

A black tank covered Kenma's chest, while his navy coveralls covered him from the waist-down, sleeves knotted together, around his waist to hold them up. His hands and arms are still stained dark from his work this morning and he's not quite sure on the status of his face, with the lack of looking in a mirror today. With a shrug, Kenma brings another chip to his mouth.

After a moment of silence, a scoff leaves his lips, "I'm not trying to 'wow' anyone. I'm scoping out the new competition, at most."

"I thought you said, just yesterday, they weren't worth your time?" Kuroo smirks at his smaller friend. Despite Kenma acting so peeved with your presence, he knew that it was all a front. He knew his best friend better than anyone end he could tell that his interest in you was just being covered up by feigned annoyance.

Kenma rolls his eyes, "I mean, you aren't either, but here we are."

Akaashi lets a breath escape him, before glancing over as he sees a flash of several headlights, looking over at the orange and black themed cars rolling in. "Looks like you have your chance to... Scope out your competition. Won't be long until Itachiyama and Shiratorizawa start arriving, as well."

Bokuto claps a large hand on Kenma's tattooed shoulder, making the faux-blonde cringe at the contact. "Go on, Ken! We'll catch up with you, soon!"

Kenma doesn't hesitate to step away from the other three, taking easy strides on his way over to where the vehicles were now parked, scattered around one another. The first to take notice of him, Shōyō, lights up, straightening from his position, previously leaning against the hood of his car. Though, seeing that he wasn't moving to greet Kenma, they cat-eyed male look at who he was talking to.

Finally laying eyes on the person he'd found himself 'hating' for the past few nights, any insults he had for you left him. Seeing you reclined against the hood of one of Karasuno's best cars, looking like you'd just come from the shop, much like him.

When your eyes found his, he notices that whatever you had been saying slowly faded out while you focused on him. And oversized orange and black jacket adorned your figure, keeping you away from the crisp breeze. He wondered if it was yours by the way or enveloped you, though on the arm, your last name shown clear, orange lettering bold against the black.

You slide from the good of the vehicle, your jacket falling from your body so you can tuck it in through the open window of what he guessed to be your car. You were dressed in nearly the same thing as him, black coveralls tied up around your waist and a large black shirt that seemed too big for you, as well, tucked into it. Not hesitating to step forward, Hinata finds himself falling back, wanting to bare witness from afar.

The smug grin tugging at the edges of your lips makes Kenma narrow his eyes further, "This is the great Kozume Kenma? Wow, no one really did you any justice, now did they?"

Of course you would be the smug type. Though, he supposed you had every right to be. You were an impressive individual. "And you're L/N Y/N... For someone who wanted to be so mysterious, you sure weren't hiding."

"I can't take credit for that idea. It was all Suga. Said we needed an ace up our sleeve." Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash Kenma a lazy grin. Mainly because it was oh-so obvious it was getting under his skin. "Though I have heard someone has been a bit obsessed with me, recently."

Kenma finally lets out something near a laugh, "You would be so lucky. Are you racing tonight?"

Hearing the rumble of other engines, the both of you realize that it wouldn't be long before you would both have to walk away to be with your separate groups. "Wouldn't you like to know," Kenma turns his head back towards you, raising an eyebrow. "I guess you'll just have to keep an eye out for me, won't you, Kozume?"

You take an easy step back, before turning to walk away, "I look forward to racing you, one day, Kozume."

"Likewise..." Kenma finds himself staring at you as you walk away from him, impressed by how bold you are, despite himself. Belying his previous 'hate' towards you, a slight smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

Much as Kenma found himself excited whenever he raced or encountered Shōyō, even his three friends could tell that he was intrigued, from their distance.

Kuroo Tetsurō

He, unlike Kenma, loves the thrill of racing.

Even if he doesn't do it as often now, he still manages to love when he does race.

Now, Nekoma doesn't have much real competition.

They've been among the top racing groups for year now and not even up-and-comers like Karasuno were going to change that.

Despite Kuroo's reassurance in the stability of his position as best racer and 'leader' of Nekoma's group, there were certain other groups that managed to get under his skin.

Groups like Daishō Suguru's group, Nohebi.

The group who'd been giving him more trouble than anyone else, since they'd gotten started.

He hated Daishō.

He hated Nohebi.

Nohebi played dirty and had injured multiple of his racers.

Most recently injured had been Yaku.

He wasn't sure who had been driving, but he remembered the person who had stepped up to reprimand the driver for the blatant foul play.

Acting like you were going to veer into another car and doing it were two different things.

He wasn't sure if it was because you were the one who had to fix your own vehicle or because you were worried about the opposing driver.

But he was intrigued.

Especially when you slapped Daishō for trying to "calm you down" by grabbing your wrist.

You had such an attitude and were so independent.

You caught his attention awfully quick.

After that, he kept an eye out for you.

He was whipped from day one.

Now normally, it takes forever for him to develop feelings for someone, but you were such a strong individual, he was whipped.

Though what sealed the deal for him was when you would tease him back and flirt with him.

At first he thought it was just because you wanted to piss off Daishō, but when he noticed that you seemed to enjoy it just as much as he did, he really was whipped.

You spotted him before he spotted you. As per usual when it came to you. You were good and sneaking up on him. It should have been more concerning to him than it was when a hand came to cover his eyes, your voice crooning in his ear playfully, "Guess who."

He knew you, quite easily, by your voice. You'd become well acquainted with sneaking up on him.

After all, it had been what? Two years since this mutual bantering and rivalry had started. By this point, both of your respective groups were getting a little tired of constantly having to be a witness to all of the flirting that was done.

"L/N, I think I'd recognize the strong smell of motor oil anywhere." Kuroo turns around to face you, hands tucked in the pockets of the red and black jacket he wore. The same one that matched the jackets of the rest of his group.

"Well, unlike someone, I've been working pretty hard, y'know?" Your own hands drift to your pockets, "Not all of us have minions doing all of our work, for us."

One of Kuroo's eyebrows shoot up, "Oh? Last I heard was that someone in particular had a whole shop of people working for them."

A light laugh escapes you, the air fogging up a bit in front of your face as your warm breath met the crisp air surrounding you both. "Yeah? Who told you that? The same asshole that's trying to drag other unfortunate souls into working with him?"

Heaving out a deep, faux sigh, Kuroo tilts his head. "The position with me is still open." His cooing voice almost makes you forget how he'd opted to phrase it. Almost.

"As much as I hate the snaky bastard, the money is too good to pass up." You lean yourself back, making contact with the hood of Kuroo's car. His favorite and ace vehicle, in fact.

"You know I could easily pay you twice what he does," he leans in and places a hand on either side of the hood, next to you. "So what's it going to take to convince you I'm a better choice than him?"

You cross your arms, a smug look crossing your face. "Why do I think this has less and less to do with your need for a mechanic?.. I think you might be a little obsessed with me, there, Kuroo."

A smirk matching your own crosses his lips. "Maybe I am, L/N. What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, there are a few things-" You find yourself cut off as you note Daishō's shouts from across the way. A sigh escapes you and you bring a hand to Kuroo's chest, pushing a finger into his shoulder and making him lean back. "Looks like I've got to go. Until next time, Kuroo."

"Keep my offer in mind," The tall man lets out a sigh as he watches you walk away from him. He glances over his shoulder as he feels a hand there, seeing his faux-blonde friend. "They'll be working for me one day. Just you wait."

Bokuto lets out a hearty laugh, causing people to look in the direction of the two tall men. "You've been saying that for how long, now?"

A scoff comes from behind them, causing them to turn around, "About two years, now. He's a little desperate, don't you think?"

Kuroo rolls his eyes at his friends' teasing, head turning in your direction just in time to catch you quickly farting your own gaze away.

You'd be a lot more to him than just another person in his racing group, one day.

General Taglist:

@thathoneybee3 @bratkugo

[pxheart]

A @damijonsecretsanta for @queerbutstillhere  I hope you like it! 

I don’t know what befell your original secret santa but I had lots of fun filling in for them :))) 

A bit late to wish you a merry xmas, so have a happy new year and a fantastic 2021! (surely better than 2020 at least 😩💕) 

Here is a little 1k fic to accompany the fanart ;) 

Winter bliss

The snow was beating down on Metropolis in a way that made Jon fear it might be caused by the supernatural. 

Not HIS problem however. He was done with super-heroing. Having to study for university finals, working at the coffee shop AND having such a boyfriend as Damian Wayne was more than enough work. 

And what a nice torture it was...

...the last part, at the very least. Finals were torture and no one could convince him otherwise. Working at the coffee shop was fine. Except on rush hour. That was hell. 

Sighing, he ran inside their complex, shaking out snow from his hair before getting inside. He knew that if he were to wet the floors, his adorable boyfriend would chew him out, and that was a scary thought. He might not go out every night to beat criminals anymore, but he could still kick ass. Especially HIS ass. 

Upon entering, he was greeted by a soft crackly music coming out from Damian’s -stolen form Wayne manor- vintage turntable. Sinatra was gently singing ‘Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…”.

A nice spicy smell hung in the air, and when he reached their living room he found out why. A steaming cup of warm chai tea latte was waiting for him. Damian had a super secret amazing recipe he refused to share. It could either come from Alfred, or be some kind of adaption of a magic murder potion from the league of assassins, one never knew with Damian. Either way, it was delicious. 

He sipped from it thankfully, and raised his eyes to find...LEGS. 

Long, slender, beautiful legs raised in the air, twisting into a graceful bowed position. He followed their curve, to find…

He blushed. They had been dating for six months now, and sometimes he still couldn’t believe his luck. Damian was, simply putting it, gorgeous. People kept saying that the robin with the best butt was the first one, but that’s only because they had never got a chance to take a good look at Damian’s. 

Not that Jon wanted them to. Damian was his. And so was his ass, thank you very much. 

He gulped down his latte a bit more forcefully than was usually advised, and Damian bended his back even more, coming to touch the ground in front of his head in a perfectly executed ‘Urdhva Dhanurasana’, if Jon's memory of every time Damian had tried -and failed- to teach him anything about yoga was serving him right.

All the while, since this apparently was not hard enough, three puffballs were zigzagging through his arms and feet. One of them, an orange tabby kitten -that Jon had lovingly named 'Red the hot chili pepper menace'- even started to climb up Damian's yoga pant leg and Jon winced, knowing fully well his darling's skin was not as impervious as his to the tiny but sharp kitten claws. 

Damian, for his part, looked up at Jon, smiled, engaged his core strength and pulled himself up to a standing position, scooped up the cat, turned and…

"Hello, beloved. Had a nice day at school?" He asked, nonchalantly.

Jon wanted to scowl and say that "no, my day was actually terrible and I want to cry" but he found, as always, that he was unable to do anything but smile back like a love struck idiot when confronted by the image of Damian Wayne, ex fearless Robin, wearing a plush knitted sweater while kissing the head of a fluffy purring kitten. 

"It's  getting nicer by the second" he said softly, leaning down to gently kiss the other. 

Damian snaked one arm around his neck, inside his jacket, and then his shirt, his warm hand softly scratching between his shoulder blades and sending shocks of pleasure down his neck. Jon took it as an invitation to get closer, deepen the kiss and he licked the taste of jasmine tea off Damian's lips…

...until a sharp meow of protest didn't break the moment, and Damian let out a yelp of pain. 

Apparently Red the hot chili pepper kitty had not particularly enjoyed being squished between his two foster dads, and had protested loudly while he sank his sharp teeth to make the message clear. 

"Well. Get out of this wet jacket, beloved. You look like you need some cuddles" he said with a smirk, passing him the kitten and sliding the jacket off his shoulders for him. 

Jon felt his heart swell three times its size, and not for the first time he marveled at the softness Damian let himself show now. Once upon a time he used to keep it well hidden. He tried to be the perfect warrior, the emotionless killing machine his mother had bred him to be. Now that he had left that chapter behind, he had bloomed into the caring, kind sweet and funny person Jon had always known him to be and Jon… he didn't  think he could ever get tired of basking in it. 

He let himself be manhandled on the plush carpet by the sofa, in front of the tv, and melted back against Damian's embrace as he  sat right behind him, wrapping his legs around his shoulders and hugging him tight like a cute warm snuggle monkey. They stayed like that for a while, as silent as the snow falling outside their window. Jon closed his eyes and breathed in Damian's familiar homy scent, and felt the screams of the world that were constantly attacking his senses fade into blessed silence. 

"So" Damian muttered by his ear "how actually was your day?"

Jon sighed "Hellish. But I wasn't  lying, babe. Just being here with you I'm feeling blesses"

"Sap" Damian answered fondly.

He grabbed Jon's face and tilted it back to kiss his forehead, his nose, both his apple cheeks and then, finally, he pressed his lips against his.

Jon hummed happily, parted his lips to let Damian's tongue steal his breath away. 

If Red the hot chili pepper tried to stop them again, scaling Jon's pant leg and furiously scratching at his knee, no one paid him any notice.

He might not be a superhero anymore, but being an invulnerable half alien superman still had its advantages….

[definitelynotkatesblog]

Illustrated Man l Spencer Reid Fic

Pairing: Reader x Spencer Reid 

Category: Fluff

Summary: Spencer comes home from a particularly difficult case, and begins to doubt himself. Reader helps him unwind and helps paint a picture of all the great things about him.

A/N: Helloooooooo friends! Yet again, I thought of a single line of dialogue I really wanted to make work so I spit a thousand words around it to bring it to life lol. Anyways! This fic is free of reader pronouns and gender identifiers, so anyone can read this and make the “I”‘a their own ☺️

P.S. I’ll see what I can do about not disappearing again for weeks on end, but I make no promises

Content warning: None! Except Spencer has his shirt off? But that’s it!

WC: 2.4k

The sound of the door clicking shut and Spencer vacating his lungs of all air drew my head up from my book.

“You’re home!” I cheered, closing my book and getting up to greet him.

He lifted his satchel over his head and gave me a small smile that didn’t touch his eyes. I nodded, mostly to myself, knowing that this meant the case was harder than most. On nights like this, Spencer was hard to reach. I padded my way across the living room and wrapped my arms around him like he might slip away if I didn’t hold him tight enough.

I pulled his head down to rest on my shoulder as his arms snaked around me, wrapping himself in me, too. We stayed like that a while until he stood up and cupped my cheeks in his hands, bringing my face up for a kiss.

‘Hi,” he said softly.

I smiled into his palms. “Hi.”

I took his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles, then led him to our bedroom to get him out of his work clothes. I helped him out of his cardigan and dress shirt, then left him to do the rest while I got him some water. When I returned, he was laying face down across the bed in a pair of sweatpants. His head rested on his crossed arms, and turned to face me when I laid next to him on the bed. I propped my head up one arm and gave him a half smile.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He thought for a moment before giving me a recap of the case, leaving out the gruesome details. I listened and ran my fingers across his back, alternating scratches with swirling patterns on the soft skin. Sometimes my hand would find itself at the nape of his neck and work through the hair there.

As he spoke, his voice became more resolved and tired. He worked so hard, but the things he saw, the things this job had put him through weighed on him. He was strong and incredibly smart, but just because he carried it well didn’t mean the load wasn’t heavy.

I took a deep breath and spoke gently, not wanting to offend him. “Maybe you can take some time off?” I suggested.

He shook his head, his chin brushing his hands folded under his chin.

“The team needs me. These victims and their families need me.”

I bit my tongue. I needed him, too. But this was hardly the time to bring that up.

“But this job,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “It takes pieces of me I can’t get back, and I’m scared all I am is the parts I’ve managed to pick up off of the ground.”

I closed my eyes and wished away the tears forming in my eyes. I heard him take a deep breath but he didn’t say anything else.

“I have an idea. Stay there.”

His head lifted and his eyes followed me around the room to our closet where my painting supplied resided.

“I’m going to paint you.”

“Paint me?”

I turned around, a towel in one hand and my box of paints and brushes in the other. “Yes. You’re gonna lay here and talk to me about anything in the world and I’m going to paint you.”

His eyes scanned the contents of my hands. I could see the gears in his head turning for a moment before he shrugged and gave a small nod.

“Okay.”

I ran a hand through his hair and bent down to kiss his forehead before climbing on the bed and straddling his thighs, setting my supplies on the towel beside us. “Talk to me.”

His head cocked to the side as he contemplated his answer.

“Not about work,” I clarified.

I felt his laugh beneath me. “Okay then, what would you like me to tell you about?”

I tapped my bottom lip with the handle of my paintbrush. “Hmmm. Read any good books lately?”

I could feel his smile without seeing it. If there was one thing Spencer loved more than saving lives and doing crossword puzzles in pen, it was reading. “I revisited some Ray Bradbury on the plane home,” he said.

“Mmm, tell me about it.”

He took a deep breath beneath me and began. “I re-read The Illustrated Man. It’s a compilation of short stories told through interactions between an omniscient narrator and a man covered in tattoos that each tell tales of events that have not happened yet. The tattoos are magic, and they come alive to tell the stories they depict. The stories are mostly science fiction, but have elements of pretty universal truths that Bradbury is famous for addressing.

For example, in one story explores the deep seeded longing of one man to take a trip to outer space. Something that, in this story, is attaintanable. He works his whole life to be able to fulfill this yearning, but he is torn between going or staying with his family, whom he also loves. It begs the question of the existence of duality of desire and duty.

Then, in another, there’s this incessant rain. And this group of men are searching for cover and sunshine, but it’s wearing them down and breaking them. These small raindrops, just water, becomes torture. It’s interesting how something as small as raindrops can break both canyons and men.”

I listen as he tells me about each story behind the man’s tattoos, about how they’re all different but important and lend themselves to portraying the then-futuristic perception world around us. Sometimes, his voice gets sad at the implications of the stories, but other times he seems to appreciate the sentiment behind them.

I dip my brushes and admire the way they drag across his soft skin, leaving a wake of vibrant pigments behind. I hmm and ahhh at appropriate times, partially paying attention but mostly glad that he’s able to enjoy himself and is able to think of something other than the darkness in his world.

We stayed in our respective positions for the better part of an hour- him laying on the bed with his head on his hands while I straddled the back of his thighs, stroking brushes across the lines of his back.

When I’m finally finished, I roll my neck and place my hands on the small of his back, taking a moment to take it in. The idea of creating a universe compelled me; there was so much beauty and so much unknown in the expanse of space. The concept seemed fitting for what I hoped to help him understand. I’d mixed a navy blue paint for a base, and created swirls of light with yellows, creams, and whites to create a brighter contrast and background for the more intricate featured parts. One section had books, a coffee cup, a molecular model I’d hoped was an actual chemical, and a small red apple.

The next was a canyon, modeled after one of the scenic drives we’d taken the last time we visited Vegas to see his mom at her new care facility. We parked at a lookout spot and watched the sun set- gorgeous oranges, yellows, and pinks painted the sky over the rock. It was at that moment I’d never been more jealous of Spencer’s perfect memory.

Another section, closer to the bottom curve of his spine was a silhouette outline of the Christmas card the team had sent out two years ago. Spencer had a copy hanging by a CalTech magnet on the fridge, another on his desk, and a folded and fading copy in his wallet.

He loved that photo – the way it captured their joyous spirits and ability to be carefree despite the things that initially brought them together.

I took a deep breath and playfully patted his bottom. “All done!”

He threw a boyish grin over his shoulder and handed me his phone.

I snapped a few pictures, holding the phone up by my chin to capture the expanse of his back, then a bit closer to the individual parts. I passed the phone back over his shoulder and brought my clasped hands up under my chin. “Okay, so, if you don’t like it, that’s okay you can wash-” I rushed, but stopped short when I felt his breath hitch from underneath me.

He was silent for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand.

I took a deep breath. “Spencer, you contain multitudes. You’re a loving son, an amazing friend, a brilliant profiler, a great cat-sitter, an instant mashed potato extraordinaire, and my favorite boyfriend.”

I dusted an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder before continuing, giving my words a moment to sink in. I needed him to hear me, and to know these truths. “You are so much more than the things you don’t love about yourself. You are more than this job, you are more than the obstacles you’ve had to overcome. They’re a part of who you are, yeah, but they’re not all that you are.”

I shook my head, though he couldn’t see it. The knowledge of the man beneath me not knowing he was deeply loved seemed so wrong.

“You are so incredibly loved, Spencer. The people in your life are so lucky to know you and to be loved by you. Each and every one of your friends is changed and is better for having known you, believe me.”

He was silent for a short while, pinching and zooming in on the screen to see the different parts of him illustrated in his skin. He cleared his throat a few times. Part of me was grateful I couldn’t see his face, and he couldn’t seem mine. Though, I didn’t need to see the way his mind was working to know he was trying to find a flaw in my logic.

The amount of love I had for the man beneath me threatened to spill over in the form of tears.

“Favorite boyfriend?” he asked finally, feigning insult.

I laughed. “So far, yeah.”

I knew that wasn’t the only thing he’d heard, but probably was the only thing he could bring himself to comment on.

I scrambled off of my perch unceremoniously, stretching for a moment before straightening up and offering my hand. He laid with his chin resting on his fists stacked, staring at me for a moment.

“What?” I asked with a small huff.

“Being loved by you is one of the greatest joys of my life.”

I felt my mouth pop open, a bit taken aback at such a bold admission. A sweet smile touched his lips while he watched me try to scoop my heart back into my chest. He climbed off the bed gingerly, careful not to rock the tray of paint and brushes with his long limbs.

His large hand wrapping around mine grounded me from cloud nine and I could feel the smile forming on my lips. I turned and started heading towards the bathroom.

“Come,” I said, pulling him along behind me.

When we arrived in the small room, I halted and spun him so the back of his thighs were resting against the porcelain countertop and I was flush against his front. My hands came to rest on the edges of the countertop, caging him between my arms. I looked up at him, squinting slightly.

“I’d like to take a picture, is that okay?”

I knew Spencer was wary of having his picture taken; most of our pictures together were candids I’d puppy eyed my way into him letting me keep.

He narrowed his eyes back at me. My lower lip made an appearance, coupled with a knitted brow and cautious look from under my lashes.

He laughed and shook his head. “Okay.”

Before he could change his mind, I grabbed my phone and rushed back to my place in front of him, pressing my front to his.

I snaked my arms around his torso so our chests were together while his back bearing my painting faced the mirror. My arms poking out from between his arm and torso space made him look like an alien, but placing one hand on his hip while the other held my phone gave the pose a more artistic feel.

I snapped a few pictures, messing with the lighting and exposure, playing with shadows from the vanity and positioning him every which way. Every once in a while, I’d pull my arms from him and show him a few shots I liked but they never felt like the one.

He smiled and nodded encouragingly, taking my direction to tilt this way or arch his shoulder that way. I started to feel for him, we’d been there for 15 minutes at least.

I pouted and let my head fall back dramatically. “I give up,” I whined.

He gave a small smile and leaned down to kiss me. I met his lips with a smile of my own before resting my head against his chest.

“Try one more time,” he encouraged.

I nodded and wrapped my arms around him again. I poked my head out so it was just visible behind his arm, resting my chin on his bicep as I focused my phone camera to capture the two of us and my work on his back.

“Smile,” I said before snapping a few shots. Spencer’s body shook with his laugh as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head. My thumb grazed the shutter button, capturing the moment.

It was perfect.

His back was illuminated perfectly by the soft glow of the vanity mirror lighting, the muscles in his back tensed when he bent down, creating dips and curves that separated the focus points brilliantly. My hand wasn’t posed, just gently resting on his hip, a soft touch that lent itself perfectly to the lightness of the moment.

I pulled myself from around him and held the phone between us. His hand found the small of my back and he pulled me closer to him, sealing our lips together. Our lips were unhurried, enjoying the softness of the moment and the love between us. His free hand cupped my cheek as we broke apart. His eyes bore into mine, both pairs slightly glossy.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

I nodded and buried my head into his chest so he wouldn’t see the fresh tears springing in my eyes. His arms wrapped around me as he pressed more kisses to the top of my head.

——

Let’s talk about it!

[chronicallycrow]

Cards.

Fandom: Cookie Run

Character(s): Cinnamon Cookie

Ship(s): Cinnamon/Reader

Word Count: 2,166

TW: Uhh,,, tarot reading? If that sets anyone off?

Notes: Hey, Cinnamon, thanks for being the character that got me out of my "I'm writing 1k words or less" fic phase./j Anyway, this started as an idea I mentioned on my main - Black-market tarot reading Cinnamon. It ended up a lot cuter than I thought it would, and made me write a HELL of a lot more than I have in a LONG time. Oh, and, I use he/they pronouns for Cinnamon! They alternate every paragraph. And, once again, I'm sorry for the weird formatting, mobile tumblr and all. Again, I don't currently have access to a computer.

The City of Wizards was an interesting place. It always had a specific feel to it, and it was always somehow shrouded in darkness yet bright. Saying you loved this place might have been an understatement. There weren't many people who lived in the town anymore - Some people thought no one did - But you knew there were people, and you knew exactly where to go to find them. And that's what you were currently doing.

You strolled through the city, looking for one place in particular. It was near one of the further corners of the town - A small little magic shop that sat inbetween two buildings that were vacant. You could miss it if you didn't know what you were looking for - The sign, with that ever-so-slightly too fancy font, fit into the rest of the town, and the windows being full of little trinkets did as well.

You turned on your heel and turned the door knob, immediately being hit by the scent of incense and cinnamon. You walked into the shop and closed the door, calling out, "Cinna?" A hum came from behind one of the shelves, and out appeared the devil themself, Cinnamon. "Hey!" You stated simply. They smiled at you and returned your greeting before asking, "Do you need anything, or are you just here to look around?" Either was fine by them - And you knew that. There was many a day where you'd sit in the shop or just look through what Cinnamon had in stock.

"Well, I-' He seemed surprised you actually wanted something, but not in a bad way. "I was actually wondering if you could-- Give me a reading? With your tarot cards?" He was a bit taken back, but seemed pleased with your request. "Of course! Right this way." He did that over-dramatic cape swish thing. It always reminded you he loved to entertain people when he did that. You followed him to a small room in the back where he did readings - Few people knew about it, but of course few people came in the near vicinity of his shop.

A table sat in the middle with some boxes and a mat laid on it. Cinnamon sat down on one side and gestured you to sit in the chair on the other side. You'd never actually gotten a reading from them, but apparently they were actually pretty good at it. They opened a box and pulled out a deck of golden-edged cards, the backs were purple. They tapped at the sides, before looking at you. "What do you want to know?" "My love life-" You blurted out before anything else. You covered your mouth, wide eyed. Why had you said that?! Cinnamon seemed to be amused by this and let out a soft laugh before beginning to shuffle the cards.

He did the card-fan thing. "Pick a card, any card!" You let out a soft laugh before grabbing one. He placed it face down on the table before shuffling the cards some more. He pulled and shuffled a handful of times, ending up with a spread of six cards. He flipped over the card you'd pulled. The card read, 'The Fool.' "This card," Cinnamon began, picking it up and turning it towards you, "represents you. It's a card that means new beginnings and new possibilities. It can also mean impulsiveness. The Fool is..." Cinnamon glanced up for a moment, before looking you in the eyes. "The Fool is a free spirit who doesn't know exactly what they want, but is willing to try anything to find the right path." And with that, he placed the card back down onto the table.

They flipped over the next card; it read 'The Magician.' "This card represents the person who... You're going to be with? Who you like? This is the other person." They turned it towards you. "You're a magician." You joked, giving a soft breath of a laugh. Cinnamon's face turned a soft shade of red from your comment, but continued on. (Little did either of you know that little joke was closer to the truth than either of you could think right now.) "It symbolizes being original, and confidence and skills. They might be extremely confident in their actions, and they're probably skilled in something." You placed your chin in your palm, staring at the card, then at Cinnamon.

He went to the next card. It read 'The Lovers.' "This card represents you and that person's bond." He stated. "That's good, isn't it?" He nodded in response before starting, "This card represents, well, love. It can also mean trust and harmany." "But I'm not in a relationship with anyone?" You mused. He shrugged. "You probably already know them and just trust them a lot. You two are probably already really close." You nodded, but something pulled at your conciousness. What if your joke was actually true? If he was the one representing the magician? "Hey," He waved a hand infront of your face, "Are you alright?" "Yeah, sorry- Go on." You sat back, and he turned over the next card.

The card read 'six of cups.' "This is your past with them, it represents nostalgia and, in this case, an old friend." You nodded, humming. "It seems like you two have known each other for a long time and trust eachother a lot." They stated simply. You traced a circle on the table with your hand. It was suddenly very hard to look at Cinnamon.

He turned over the next card. There was one more after this and you'd be done. It read 'two of cups.' Cinnamon let out a soft laugh. You tilted your head, actually meeting his eyes for a second. "This is your future with this person. The two of cups represents happy relationships and love. When you two get into a relationship it'll be a good one. I'm jealous." He said jokingly. You let out a small laugh. Your face was hot.

They finally turned over the last card. It read 'King of Wands.' "This card is advice for you." You tilted your head again, murmuring a soft, but non-demanding, "Well?" "I think in this context it's telling you you should be honest with them and tell them. It represents honesty and charm." You blinked. Cinnamon looked at the spread, then bagan to put the cards up. You looked down at your hands for a minute. Be honest? You hadn't excepted that. You didn't even realize you were-- Of course you were. Cinnamon was your closest friend. They stood up, snapping you out of your own thoughts. You stood as well. "Do you need anything else?" They asked, walking towards the door. "I don't think so- Here, let me-" You dug around your bag for a minute for your wallet. "No, it's fine-" "Are you sure?" They nodded.

You two got out into the main part of the shop, and you realized the time. It was dark outside by now - Actually dark. "Hey, Cinna?" He looked at you. "Can I spend the night - It's- It's gonna be dark out and I have to walk home. I don't think that's safe." Without thought he spoke, "Of course- Let me close up shop and we'll go upstairs and make dinner." You nodded and decided to look around while he did so. You found the two shop cats, one a black cat and one an orange cat. "You have cats?" You called. He walked over to you, kneeling down to pet one of them. "Yeah! I thought you knew?" You shook your head. "This is Pumpkin," He pointed towards the orange one. "She's new, so she doesn't have a name yet," He sighed. "Maybe you can name her later?" You nodded, "I'll see what I can come up with." With that the two of you headed up the stairs to Cinnamon's apartment.

It was a nice little space. You'd been up here before, but you'd never actually spent the night. They went into the kitchen while you looked around, eventually landing near Cinnamon Bunny's cage and giving them some pets. Cinnamon's apartment always smelt nice. They always smelt nice - It was that soft smell of a pastry shop that used a lot of cinnamon. They seemed to have the stuff everywhere, but you weren't going to complain too much - Unless it was another one of their shows where someone got too close and sneezed. Sometimes, in practice, when you'd watch them, they'd sneeze and mess up their tricks. You found it endearing.

"[Y/N]?" Cinnamon called. "Yeah?" "Food's ready." You walked into the kitchen. He'd made a full meal for you two, and honest to Millennial Tree it looked amazing. It tasted even better. You'd had Cinnamon's cooking on occasion, but never an actual meal made by him. As soon as you two had finished the oven beeped. He looked pleased. "I preheated it, if you want to make something for tomorrow morning?" You nodded, and followed him into the kitchen, placing your plate and silverware into the sink. He pulled out a series of things from multiple cupboards and cabinets, then grabbed out aprons and handed you one.

You two ended up making a mess while baking. There was flour everywhere, but you two were both laughing. They ended up getting two brooms, and you swept up the mess you made. Once that was done they looked over the both of you. "We should get cleaned up," they laughed. You nodded, before realizing something. "Cinna, I don't have-" "You can borrow some of my clothes." They hummed. You nodded, and they went off to get some, shouting back at you, "You can go take a shower if you want, I'll bring them to you." You did exactly that.

You felt much cleaner once done with the shower. He had left you a shirt that looked like it would be too big for him (or you) and a pair of sweatpants. You put them on, and were immediately ingulfed by that soft scent of cinnamon. You tried your hardest not to bury your nose in the clothing, instead leaving the bathroom. You were met with Cinnamon sitting on the couch, playing around with a deck of cards. You sat beside him, watching his hands as he played with the deck. "Are those alright?" He asked, flicking one card around. You nodded, letting out an "mh-hm." He got up then, and glanced at you. "I'm gonna go take a shower, too. I'll be back."

You ended up trying to do the tricks you saw Cinnamon do with the previously mentioned deck of cards. You failed at every one of them, but it gave you time to waste. Your mind did end up drifting back to the reading earlier. Cinnamon had to feel the same way, right? If the cards were anything to go by, they had to. You sighed and put the playing cards down, staring up. You then realized that you'd have to be sleeping on the couch - Not that you really minded. You knew they didn't have a guest room or an extra bed. Before you could get too lost in your thoughts Cinnamon appeared again. They were wearing about the same thing as you. The oven dinged. Convenient.

"I'll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed, by the way." He'd stated, as if he'd read your mind earlier, while pulling out the pan of cinnamon rolls. What else did you think he'd make? "No, I can- It's fine." You replied. He shook his head. "You're the guest, you should get the bed." He was pouring a light sugar icing on the rolls. "I-" Be more confident, the cards. "We could just-- Share the bed? Its big enough for that, right?" Cinnamon glanced at you, before letting out a small sigh. It was hard to tell if it was of content or annoyance that you didn't just take the bed alone. "Yeah, it is- That's fine."

Once the rolls had been fully iced and put in the fridge you two headed to Cinnamon's bedroom and got in their bed. You faced away from eachother, at least at first, but you decided to, again, take what the cards said, and turned towards them. Their back was facing towards you. "Cinna?" You murmured, shifting closer to them. They let out a hum, glancing back at you. You suddenly felt extremely hot. No going back now. "I-" You took a breath in. Dammit. Say it. "I think the cards were talking about you??" Why was that a question. They let out a small laugh and turned towards you. "I know." They responded simply before pulling you close to them. "Goodnight." And with that, they closed their eyes and drifted into sleep. You stayed there, dumbfounded for a couple of minutes, before just accepting it and murmuring a, "goodnight" back and getting to sleep. You two could properly talk this out in the morning.