#haha tiny bastard man is even more tiny

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 11

Kink: Manhandling, enemies AND lovers

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Captain America x Villain!f!Reader

warnings: SMUT, p-in-v, mahandling, a smidge of fluff, praise + pet names (good girl), mentions of rough sex, biting/marking, a little bit of a confession if you squint, creampie

Not beta'd and obligatory on mobile!

summary: You and Steve have played this game before; you go about your hero/villain duties and then in the dark of the night you scratch the itch that only the other can soothe. However, this time it's a slightly different.

word count:

A/N: I have a WIP for a villain series underway but I just love a good hero x villain dynamic (they're also so sassy and angsty I just melt). No one speak to me as I have 10 + Kinktober drafts that I'm trying to edit haha - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

“I knew you’d come.” You don’t even have to look up from your perch to know that Captain America, or as you so deftly nicknamed him Little Stevie, was standing in your doorway. It had only been a matter of time before he’d appear to arrest you and you had planned for it. You sipped at your red wine precariously, ensuring not to spill a drop over your expensive, white, silk and lace camisole.

You didn’t even look up from the book you were reading and you knew it irked him when you didn’t pay attention to him.

“the authorities are on their way.” He says stoically, statuesque in the golden light of your table lamp.

You click your tongue and huff, still not looking up. “And we both know I won’t spend a night in jail.”

“Maybe so. But you’ll be arrested.”

Now you look over at him. Raised eyebrow and a charismatic smirk that would make any other man melt but Steve stands in the doorway, hands on his belt and frowning slightly. It makes you want him all the more.

“really now?” You  tease, tilting your head mockingly. “and what are you doing here then? If the cops are on their way, as you so say, there’s no need for you. Unless...”

Your eyes narrow, smirk growing as you shift in your seat. Steve’s eyes flicker downward towards your cleavage ever so briefly you’re almost sure you’ve imagined it. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t want you to get away.”

“Again.” You smile.

Steve smiles wryly back. “Yeah, again.”

You chuckle softly. His voice carries a deeper meaning that you both know to be true; you both want to fuck each other again. The first time it happened was an accident; as accidental as two people on opposite sides having sex can be.

 You’d been celebrating at a hotel after a recent skirmish with the Avengers and Steve had tracked you, all by his lonesome, to try and be the hero and save the day. It had worked, in a way. He’d barged into your room. You’d thrown one of the stupidly tiny coffee mugs at him but he dodged it – lucky bastard – and grabbed your wrists before turning you around and holding them firmly against your back. You’d wriggled and kicked and – in fairness to Steve – he had warned you before he pinned you face down onto the bed. You both just didn’t expect to like it so much.

Perhaps the exhaustive, tense day you’d both had made you want to let off some steam; baseline instinct taking over when he’d flipped you over and kissed you roughly. Or when you chewed at his bottom lip and wrapped your legs around his waist.  Maybe it was that instinct that made him pick you up and hook his strong arms under your knees while he fucked into you and maybe it was that instinct that had made you come so hard over his cock you saw stars.

Regardless of whatever it was, it became a repeating occurrence.

Oh, the Avengers were coming to stop your goons? You’d make plans to be there at the same time as your favourite Captain. To smile and wink as you got off scot free and to irritate Steve knowing full well you’d both meet at a hotel somewhere incognito later in the night to fuck your brains out; rougher if you’d teased him in front of the team.

However, coming to your house was... new. And you can’t not comment on it.

“This is your first time at my home,” you say, setting down your wine and closing over your book. “You never come here.”

Steve’s jaw tenses and you smirk.

“Ah. So, what, you missed me, little Stevie?” you coo at him, hoping to get a rise. “Want one last ride before I go on my merry little way?”

Steve grumbles low in his throat; half way between a growl of frustration and a sigh of resignation. So he had missed you. You get to your feet, discarding your book without a care. Lace frills tickled at your thighs as you stood before Steve, leaning back against the sofa and folding your arms under your chest, making Steve’s eyes drift again. You grin.

“Well?” you press, secretly hoping that this time he���ll admit that he likes you, not just fucking you senseless. Because, let’s face it, he’s Steve Rogers; he could have anyone he wanted and he wants you. The one person he should stay away from. He’d put others down like dogs when he had to, but you? Never you. It almost made you want to be good. In more ways than one – just for him.

Steve doesn’t respond verbally. He sighs, shoulders sagging and strides towards you. He picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder , something you’ve come to expect so you don’t squeak or yelp only giggle; giggling like you’ve won the best damn prize at the fairground and Steve loves to hate it. You appreciatively oggle his ass in his tac gear as he moves into the hallway; another sight you’ve come to love. He stops.

“Bedroom.” He states lowly. “Where?”

“Woah there Captain Caveman,” you tease, opening your mouth to continue when Steve’s rough hand grips at your asscheek hard, making you gasp.

“where?” He asks again.

“up the stairs, first door on the left.” You say breathily, squeaking and clawing your nails into Steve’s back as he ascends the stairs at a ridiculously inhuman pace. Your bedroom door swings open as Steve kicks it and your half sure a hinge has snapped. Steve hurls you onto your bed and you bounce roughly across your satin sheets. Steve’s on top of you before you even have a chance to draw in a breath, kissing you hungrily and trailing down your throat.

“How long until the cops arrive?” You manage to get out, eyes fluttering closed as Steve’s lips tease at the swell of your right breast, just above the lace frill.

“Long enough,” is his gruff reply. Steve makes little work tugging down the front of the camisole. He knows better than to rip your expensive lingerie but only after you sent the bill for the Venetian panties he ruined to the Avengers compound. That was a long week for Steve. He still hadn't lived it down - thankfully, you'd left the note anonymous.

When your breasts are exposed Steve's mouth is all over them; kissing and sucking at the flesh in the way you like it. Your hands rake his soft hair from his face to better watch as he rolls his tongue around a nipple. Your back arches when you moan and Steve nips at your skin, chasing kisses all the way back up to your lips. Your lips greet his passionately, desperately. Both of your moans muffled by the other.

"Stevie," You pant, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you both look at eachother's eyes and lips. "I need you."

Steve sits back, undoing his belt hurriedly as you shuffle out of your panties. Something about the race against the clock, had you both running hotter than usual. Once Steve's belt is undone, he doesn't bother removing it, immediately getting to work on the zipper and buttons. Your hand is already reaching through the opening he's created, palming his heated length through his boxers. Steve's head tilts down with a soft curse, watching your hand gently free his cock and pump it a few times before lining him up with your needy core.

Steve shuffles closer, letting you guide him into you, palms splaying either side of your head onto the silky satin pillowcases. Your legs hook over his hips, pulling him closer, further into you. You take in a shaky inhale as he fills you to the brim and you watch Steve’s eyes flutter with a smug smirk.

"We're against the clock, Stevie." You murmur to him, wrapping an arm around his neck as his elbows buckle. "As much as I would love to take my time here - I think you should fuck me senseless."

"Fuck," Steve huffs into your ear. His cock twitches inside of you before his hips start to move. It's erratic at first; desperate and wild thrusts that have you tearing at his tactical gear, your legs squeezing him closer and closer. Steve raises his head to kiss you, slowly finding a rythymn with his thrusts that make you keen into his mouth.

The tip of his cock smacks that sweet spot that makes your cunt clench around him. You heave breaths as you break from another passionate kiss, holding onto Steve's shoulders tightly as you cum. You see Steve looking down at you, watching your half-lidded expression closely.

It’s if something changes, his usually stoic and rough demeanour is replaced with something softer.

“You are so beautiful,” He huffs between thrusts, cheeks growing red. He seems almost bashful, not like the cold, hard Captain you’d been fucking for almost two months. Your expression is equally soft and flustered both from your orgasm and the compliment.

Steve had never complimented you. He'd be dominant, rough and you'd be coy and teasing. Sleepovers weren't common either. You had assumed that this was stress relief for Steve. You had hoped it was just stress relief for you.

Steve doesn't say anything unless he means it and you know he means it. You can see he means it. And it makes your pussy clench around his cock harder as you blush beneath him. He continues to pound into you, guiding you from one orgasm to the next quickly.

"So are you, Stevie." You manage to tell him sincerely, pecking at his lips. "My golden boy."

“Shit, why- why do you have to feel so good?” Steve curses, his head resting against yours, panting gently.

You smirk against his lips. “Are you really complaining about how good my pussy feels, Stevie?”

Steve growls in response and you giggle. Teasing him would never not be fun for you. But when Steve’s teeth graze the nape of your neck you melt, muffling a whimper into the hard chest of his suit. Steve hears it and it drives him wild, his thrusts becoming hard again, driving into you as he gently bites at your flesh.

You cum over his cock as he marks you, the thought of being marked by your so-called enemy; especially with one with so much valour and a representative of good like Captain America, made you insatiable.

"Oh, you like that?" Steve murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear. "You like being marked by me?"

The sounds of your moans intermingle with his thrusts and your eyes roll. You're on cloud nine, maybe even ten, you would let him get away with anything. Then, a thought occurs to you. Steve continues with praises, scolding you for being a brat but you realise something that would push him over the edge.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to look deeply into his eyes as he fucks you before murmuring,

“You want me to be a good girl for you, Stevie?”

Steve's eyes almost turn black and there's a stutter to his thrusting. You smirk up at him, but there's a look in your eyes that say there's a sliver of something more; like you're offering something else entirely.

"Yes." Steve pants. "Yes I want that."

There's a beat of silence and you're both watching eachother, trying to decipher what kind of moment you've just had.

"Maybe we can talk about it over dinner." You suggest, pressing your lips against his; this time more slowly, savouring the taste of him. Steve hums, covering his mouth with yours and exploring your mouth with his tongue. There's a definite shift in how his hips roll into yours languidly; no more scolding, no more marking.

No more Captain.

You're fucking Steve Rogers - and you're adoring every sweet kiss he peppers against your skin, the tenderness of his gaze and how softly he murmurs compliments to you. You adore it so much, you don't realise you're about to cum until it crashes over you, your pussy grasping his cock tightly when you call out his name. Your hands move to the back of his head, pulling him closer to your lips.

"I love how you look when you cum over my cock," He murmurs to you, his thrusts speeding up. You struggle to keep your legs tight over his hips, his ridiculous utility belt digging into your calf painfully, but his words make you whine into his neck.

"You should see how you look when I'm on top," You quip, nipping at his ear to making him growl. "Your cheeks go such a nice shade of pink."

As if on cue, Steve's face flushes and you chuckle. "Just like that," You whisper, kissing him again.

His thrusts don't become wild and erratic like they usually do before he cums. This time they're hard but precise, finding that sweet spot that makes your cunt squeeze him tight.

"Oh fuck - oh, Steve," you moan in warning as you feel yourself on the edge of cumming again.

Steve muffles you yet again with another kiss, hitching an arm under your thigh and drawing it back giving a deeper angle to your cunt. You cry out, the pleasure overwhelming. Steve feels it too, the new angle allowing him somehow deeper into your tight, wet hole makes him shudder and after a few deep thrusts and you cumming over his cock again, he's spent his load inside of you with a gasp of your name.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Steve groans, his cock twitching as he stills inside of you. Steve pants, giving himself all but thirty seconds to recover before tucking himself back into his suit, and checking his watch. He gives you a half apologetic - half cheeky smile.

"Two minutes to spare," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he climbs from the bed. You lie sprawled, flushed, and fucked-out on the bed. You hadn't been expecting this tonight.

"Ooh, how lucky." You say sarcastically, rolling onto your side, watching him stand in front of you with his hands on his stupid belt again. Your one arm is supporting your head, the other lazily resting across your waist, and you don't need Steve to tell you that you look like a damn succubus waiting for him again.

"Shouldn't you be getting dressed?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Uh... cleaned up?"

You smirk back at him, pretending to look at something under your nails. "Oh I didn't tell you? The warrant was voided."

Steve looks aghast and you smile wider. You tap your temple before he can begin to form a response.

"My lawyers called about an hour before you got here. Something about evidence being lost or whatever." You wave a hand dismissively, knowing damn well that that you had paid handsomely for the pigs on your payroll; and for once they had done something right. The evidence of your involvement in a high profile was all but lost, but you knew Steve couldn't resist bringing you in or warning you about some big case. You thought it might have just been a good-bye blow out; not something that had you considering a change in career.

"Now, dinner first or shall we start round two?"

[ofallthingsnasty]

heyy omg it's so fun to read your manipulator post!! can I please get when they become a total mess without you? like when they regret and all.. I know that kaiser won't ever regret something due to his superiority complex. so I wanna know what will he do without reader, I'm sure he somehow got little attached to reader right? AND PLEASE LET READER GO FOR GOOD NOT COMING BACK TO THAT BASTARD xD (thank youuuu! I know that I'm asking to much *sigh*)

ah I'm so happy it resonated so well with so many people!! I really like the more hopeless, mean side of yanderes and I feel like Blue Lock really provides us with so many fucked up little guys who can really make your head spin -- it's the same reason reader will always end up with them but let me give you some food for thought haha. References this post. Requests are open!

tags: yandere, baby trapping, reader can get pregnant but no pronouns are used, emotional manipulation, noncon mention

word count: 0.6k

We talked about you escaping Kaiser as a foreign darling here and I still think that at first, Kaiser will be seething. It takes him a good while to calm down again, to mend his broken ego at least a little bit. He does have feelings for you - he isn't cold, doesn't only view you as something to possess - but he wants to be worshipped. That anger is definitely born out of a sense of superiority and entitlement but also hurt feelings. That man loves you more than he likes to admit and your absence hurts him in ways he hasn't experienced before. It’s a confusing mix for him.

All things he does during those initial weeks: (subtly) dragging your name through the mud in the public, pulling strings to make life as hard as possible for you, having Ness talk to you - if they all fail, if nothing can make you crawl back to him on your hands and knees, I can see that anger slowly turning to desperation. It’s absolutely ugly. He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling, too used to getting what he wants, to winning. Ness will bear the brunt of it, no doubt. Moody, even more easily irritated than he already is, he’ll all but terrorize his team mates. Even the media picks up on it and they’ll have a field day with reporting on the subject. People around him are incredibly concerned for him and it will only drive him further up the wall.

In the end, he’ll turn up at your door on his own, no middlemen needed.

You’ll barely recognize him. Hair disshevelled, face pale with too little sleep and eyes red, he looks pathetic as he stares at you from his place on your doorstep.

It’s hard not to feel at least a little bit of pity for him when he looks like this. And maybe because he only ever emotionally abused you - never really kept you, never hurt you physically - your memories soften and you see his raw, vulnerable innards, see that big soccer star as some genuinely hurt young man, small and desperate. It isn’t really an act but the words he weaves aren’t all that truthful, either. It won’t take long for you to let him back into your heart: Being so close to him, remembering how you did love him, how he could be so sweet when he wanted to- that and the heartfelt talks you two are having even make you forgive him for the stunt he pulled with Ness. Everything is just too easily explained away with desperation, with him being beside himself after you left. One tiny part of you wants him to change, wants that initial magic of dating a pro athlete, back. You want to believe that he can and will change, that’s why his little spiel works on you in the first place. You still have too much love for him, in the end.

Kaiser is obsessed with control, we know as much - and what is one way to really bind you to him? Oh, it’s almost too easy. Marrying you is a no-brainer but today’s marriages are easily broken apart. No. He needs something entirely different - a child. Just one. A tiny little bundle of joy, the spitting image of the both of you, something that irrevocably keeps you with him, makes you think twice before leaving again. And he wouldn’t mind a child, even if he doesn’t feel quite ready yet - it doesn’t matter, as long as you stay with him for as long as you both live. Getting you so drunk you puke up your pill and don’t even remember him fucking you while you’re half-conscious is a breeze. Happy little accidents happen all the time, don’t they?

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS:

Kaedehara Kazuha is what you'd call “bastard”— a cheeky smile, red eyes that light up at the mention of you, and seem to act like a cheeky little shit with others. When it's behind closed doors, however, you can attest that he's quite a lovesick fool— like you. ( gen. neutral reader )

TRIGGER WARNING/S:

Fluff ; established relationships ; Kazuha is a lovesick bastard (/aff) ; mentions of slight stalking (not from either lmao) ; a tiny moment of angst (Kazuha doesn't take care of himself) ; it's okay lmao it's just a tiny bit of angst

Kazuha was someone people considered to be... Normal by many. At least, when you look at him, he doesn't seem the incel type to complain about certain matters.

No, far from it, actually.

For those who knew him, they can attest that he's a good kid. He looks young, but in his early twenties, he's build up a name for himself.

Online, he's regarded as a writer- someone that writes his experiences in his space of the Internet, which is mostly about his travels. Albeit it is difficult to attain some sort of following from it, many people had found solace and excitement on his logs and stuck around for more.

So many would ask him questions about his travels, some ranging from how it was like being there, to mentioning if he had saw them in his trips to the cities for his bookings. Even when he didn't say anything other than make vague mentions of seeing them, people made their conclusions and ideas from it.

In a way, he certainly fueled the fire and had people guessing of where he could be— which was quite amusing on its own, if not for the fact no one truly knew how he looked like or what his actual name was.

Outside of his online presence, he worked at a normal job as a web designer, knowing he can't live off of what he wrote alone in the digital space. Tasked to designing websites and the like, he got a good pay out of it for his skills— even if the clients were a little indecisive at times.

But to you?

He's what you'd call a lovable bastard.

“Kazuha, you have a client under a strict deadline. Are you sure you can slack off?"

“Haha, you know I can, maple,” the albino said with a smile, giving you a look that screamed ‘so what?’. “Do you want to deprive me off of your affection this much?”

Case in point: right now.

I'm going to punch this man, you mused, squinting at the red eyed bastard before you. Shame he's too cute... Or that he's my boyfriend to begin with.

You knew Kazuha had been busy for the past few weeks, mostly because of his work as a web designer. He hasn't gotten a lot of time off of it from a nightmare of a client, constantly demanding changes one day to end up getting mad the next when he did what they asked.

It was... Concerning. Extremely so, when many who worked like him had spoke about them and warned him not to. But by the grace of archons, he decided to take it on.

Like a fool.

He's had a bit of a break from the client for the time being after you told him he hasn't been taking better care of himself. You swore that if he doesn't, he's about to land a trip to the hospital with his habits of skipping meals and not taking an actual good night's sleep.

(You caught him several times either taking power naps or drinking enough coffee that he's gone through withdrawals, and you told him off for it.)

It was only now that he decided to finally take a break as he finished up the majority of the design, saying he can always look back on it tomorrow for final touches... Which was the deadline.

You swear this man has no concept of how much time he's got left.

Giving said man a look, you said bluntly, “Well, you said that you'll be taking a break now, but tomorrow is the deadline. You know that client is going to hound at you for missing it.”

His brows furrowed at that.

“Well, I can always say that's the final product. I'd rather not waste any time being with you now that I'm finally done,” he rebutted, making you pause for a moment. Well, he wasn't wrong, that's for certain.

... that client was a monster to work for, after all.

Sighing, you nuzzled closer to him in his embrace, smelling the faint scent of wood. This made the albino chuckle as he sifted through your locks.

“Got nothing to say, love?” he asked by your ear, making you scoff. “Not when you and I know that client is a nutcase.”

This made him laugh— such a voice that rings to your ear like bells.

It made your heart race for a moment.

“Perhaps. But then again, you'd be surprised on why I'm taking a break now after what I've found.”

... wait, what?

You craned your head up at him, brows furrowed in thought. Did he found something damning? If so, why now? He's usually never kept secrets like this- especially if its something so serious.

“What did you find?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kazuha's lips curved to a smile.

“Oh, you'll see, darling.”

It was only when he's sure his lover is slumbering when he got to work.

With his laptop in front of him, he turned his head and focused on what was before him. He's never told anyone what he had found out, as they'd never see him the same way again.

If, well— they knew the client personally, that is.

“To demand me of such work when you've got criminal records like this...”

He shook his head while he wrote a simply announcement on the front page of the blog, his once vibrant eyes narrowed as he stared at the amount of evidence he's got stored. Multiple accounts of stalking on another person— one of his friends, no less— and even blackmail and messages that can be rather concerning.

... it's even worse with what he's demanded, that one. Often demanding more and more of their shameless photos, but to turn it around and use it for more in fear of them getting out in public?

How despicable.

When he was sure he's managed to say his piece there, he's attached as much as he could onto the website. He was a petty man, but he's had a good reason to do so; especially when the client he's working is not someone he wished to be associated with.

Gathering information has never been easier, he mused. It's such a shame he's never a good one to hide his tracks.

When it was all done and attached in places he's sure everyone could see, he saved the website and it's code before messaging the client, letting him know that he was done...

... while neglecting to mention what he's changed, for if he knew, he'd demand some sort of recuperation. Of payment in return for his shame.

If he doesn't pay me back, I suppose that will serve as my insurance.

He did wait for the payment, for he endured 3 weeks with the client's nightmarish demands. And after telling him what he's done and the accumulated payment for the constant major changes, his client refused to pay.

Hah. I should have known.

He scoffed and sent one last message:

[ I understand. However, if you have decided to not pay me back, then do not blame me for what happens next. ]

And before he could say something back to the web designer, he blocked him from his contacts, setting his phone aside. Stretching his arms, he felt his muscles tense as he turned his head.

Kazuha reached over to close the tabs and shut his laptop down, standing up from his chair to walk to the bedroom with his beloved. He needed to unwind, and he's sure tomorrow will be a day of pampering.

Settling under the covers, the albino wrapped his arms around them to pull them closer to him, his head nuzzled to the crook of their neck. Letting out a sigh, his muscles relaxed and he finally felt drowsiness get to him.

... how nice, he thought with a smile. To feel a lover's embrace is rewarding. I love you too much, my dove.

Reaching up to kiss their forehead, his eyes closed as he finally, finally, fell asleep.

@.enxgmx-wrxtxr | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023

[captain-mj]

MJ!! HOLY!! That warrior AU is freaking amazing!!

I'm humbly begging for a part 2 🙏🙏🙏

I'm way to invested now haha

A ton of people sent me Requests and i appreciated all of them so much!! Here y’all go. Part 1 here

Also I am so willing to make a 3rd part (and possibly more I maybe have several planned already) so feel free to just ask!

Ghost was a great sinner. He had perfected the art of it. Had broken every command. Coveted, killed, used God’s name as a curse. Slept with many people and had never been married.

But right now. This might be his greatest one. 

Soap had fallen asleep. He had moved in the night, gently leaning into Ghost. This was the sin that would damn him. 

Soap’s gentle breaths. He could feel them through his shirt. Gentle and even. Ghost should get up. Should shove him off. He didn’t. He enjoyed the heat of Soap’s body, relished in the false vulnerability. 

The morning light fell over his features, illuminating him. He looked so relaxed. His strong features catching the light in a way that made him look ethereal. 

Soap began to stir and Ghost quickly sat up, trying to erase what he had been doing. He stood up easily and pulled his coat back on. The house was well insulated, but it had still gotten cold in the night with no fire. 

“Finally, you’re up.” Ghost glanced down at him, watching him slowly blink awake. He reached down and cut his binds. Soap rubbed his wrists and Ghost noticed with a wince how red they looked. He’d have to find something a little more permanent soon. 

Soap looked at him with soft hooded eyes. “Ah.”

“Hope it was a dream?”

“Aye. Was dreaming you were a pretty blond lass. Real disappointed to see you.” Soap huffed and sat up. He stretched, muscles rolling under his skin. “How long are we going to share a bed?”

“Until I can find a way to make sure you don’t escape. Thought this was slightly better than tying your ankles to your wrists and leaving you in the living room.”

“Sick bastard.” 

“Never said I’d enjoy it.”

“Don’t have to. Can hear it in your tone.” Soap rolled his shoulders before shivering. He looked... so tiny. So cute. 

Ghost looked away. “I’m going to be busy. A guard will be outside the door. They’re instructed to kill you if you try to escape.” 

Soap looked at him with a small glare but nodded. “Fine.” 

Ghost glared at him. “Soap. Don’t make me have to hurt you. Just stay put.” He really didn’t want to. Just needed him to stay there. Stay safe. 

Ghost was not honest with himself if he could help it. He tried to avoid it to the best of his ability. But he had already lied to Soap and Shepherd, no use also lying to himself. Shepherd believed he wanted Soap to torture him for all he did on the field. That wasn’t even close to true. Soap was told that Ghost did it so he wouldn’t boost Shepherd’s ego. That was slightly closer. 

Ghost thought of Shepherd talking with Price. Price had looked uncomfortable, but Shepherd was there leader so they had to bite their tongues. Shepherd detailed what he would do to Soap. Described how he’d break him. Make him a concubine by a different name. 

Ghost had felt a strong mix of feelings at what he had talked about. Disgust at how casually he discussed assaulting him. Nausea as he remembered his own time as a “Spoil” under a cruel man. A heavy amount of hate. 

But underneath it all was a current of seething jealousy at the thought. It had caught him off guard. Even now, something possessive curled in his organs. He honestly didn’t want to hurt Soap. Soap was defeated after all. No need to be a sore winner. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to do other things to him. But lust was a sin and sinning was something Ghost excelled at. 

He’d never let Soap, or anyone for that matter, know any of this. He barely admitted it to himself. 

Before he left, he gave Soap some water and told him to cook if he wanted. 

“Don’t burn my house down.”

“Or what?”

“We’ll be homeless.” Ghost had deadpanned and Soap had laughed, looking shocked before he quickly looked away to fix his expressions. 

“Aye. Suppose we will.” 

Ghost nodded and walked away. He pulled on his gear, feeling Soap staring at him. He tried to turn around to catch him in the act but Soap looked away just fast enough. His hands clenched hard, taking a deep breath. 

Ghost didn’t touch him. Not once that morning. 

Price waved him over and he went to sit next to him. “You knew Shepherd wanted him.”

“Yes. That’s why I asked for him. Knew he couldn’t say no to me in front of everyone.”

“Simon. Careful.”

“I’ll be fine.” Ghost reassured. “It was worth it.” 

Price didn’t looked convinced but he let it go. The two of them talked about any news in their town. Price kept him up to date on things since he avoided leaving his home unless to go fight. His sword felt heavy on his hip. 

Alejandro and Shepherd joined them after a while, letting them finally start the stupid meeting. Ghost hated these. It was full of useless strategizing based on information that was probably fake. They weren’t on the field and none of them would agree on how to handle it, they never did. Inevitably, whoever was out commanding people would make a call and they’d pretend they never had the meeting in the first place. 

It was cycle. A vicious one that Ghost hated. 

The nice servant brought Ghost tea though. It was good tea, strong with sugar. He sipped it as they talked. 

“So, about MacTavish.” Alejandro spoke up and Ghost tried not to look at him, feeling an intense feeling of betrayal. “He still kicking?”

“Yes. He’s still alive.” 

Price looked at him, seeming to have just now realized Ghost never said what was worth it. All three of them were staring at him.

“Wait. He’s still alive?” Price asked.

“What are you doing to him?” Alejandro sounded slightly scandalized.

“What is he not doing to him?” Shepherd sounded a lot more interested. 

Ghost thought over his options. “He’s... alive. He makes a good bedfellow.” Lies. He stole the goddamn blanket. But the double entendre was enough to throw them off. 

Shepherd hummed. “Details?”

“No.” Ghost continued to sip his tea. He could feel Price’s disappointed stare piercing through him. Part of him wanted to explain that it wasn’t like that, that he hadn’t actually done anything, but if they thought he was keeping Soap for that, they wouldn’t question him not killing him. Soap would stay safe. His reputation could take the hit. Hell, may even raise it among certain of his men. He made MacTavish his whore. 

The idea made his nausea return. 

“So that’s why you wanted him. Should’ve known.” Alejandro smiled, but Ghost could see the tension in his shoulders. He was a tiny bit insulted by how easily they believed this now. 

“Are we done?”

“Yes. We’re done. Go enjoy the gift, Ghost.” 

Ghost nodded and stood up, his gear hugging his skin comfortably. The others were using the rare opportunity to wear just a shirt and pants with their coats, but Ghost preferred the leather gear. The weight of it kept him grounded. 

He left with no more fanfare, hating fucking meetings. 

The guard outside his home was still there. Their blade by their feet.

Ghost waved him off and went inside, rolling his shoulders. The place had been cleaned. Not very well, but there was significantly less dust everywhere. 

Soap jumped on him, blade in hand and Ghost disarmed him easily. 

“I’m wearing armor. That knife wouldn’t even… stop struggling.” He held Soap, watching him wriggle like a fish on a hook from where Ghost had his wrists. Soap looked at him defiantly. Ghost felt his breath catch. 

Fucking pretty asshole.

“You done?”

Soap grumbled. “Fine. I’m done.” 

Ghost nodded and took the knife from him. He pinned him to the wall and ran his hands along his sides, checking for weapons. 

Soap flushed hard and went still as possible until Ghost pulled away. He turned around, back flush against the wall. His eyes found their way to Ghost’s and he didn’t move. 

Ghost stared, confused. Soap’s clothes were clinging to him like he had been sweating. It hit him then that he didn’t have anything else Soap could wear than his own things. Fuck, he’d have to let him borrow his clothes. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad yet.

Unbeknownst to him, Soap was waiting for him to hit him. He had just attacked Ghost. In his own home. Honestly, he was half expecting to be flogged. Maybe beaten with in an inch of his life. 

“Do you want a bath?” Ghost didn’t care that he had attacked him. He’d do the same thing.

“What?” Soap stared at him, hopelessly confused by his jailer. 

“A bath. Your clothes look gross. I’ll have a tailor make you some but for now you can just borrow mine.” Ghost tilted his head. 

They stared at each other for a long while before Soap nodded. “Alright. That… sounds nice.” 

Ghost nodded back and pulled away. He luckily had the money and time to have a bathtub set up, but he had to get the water from nearby. He set some to boil so the water wouldn’t be cold. 

The entire time, he considered which clothes he’d let Soap borrow. He couldn’t give him any of his nicer ones. Those were his. 

If he looked hard enough, there might be some of his old clothes somewhere. They’d be a little smaller so they might fit Soap just a little better. 

He finished setting the bath and told Soap so, still very clearly in the bathroom. 

Soap started to undress, seemingly bothered at all about getting naked in front of Ghost. Ghost looked away, not sure if he was ready to commit such a sin yet. He made sure he didn’t see Soap’s body, not sure he wanted that to haunt his dreams. 

“You can leave you know. If you’re going to be such a prude.” 

Ghost took a deep breath. “What if you escape?”

“You know, if you want to see me undressed, you could’ve just ordered me to undress. Not lured me in like this.”

“You would’ve fought me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Soap sounded amused. “Are you going to avoid bathing with me here as well? You won’t eat in front of me.”

“I’ll tie you up in the other room.” Ghost was pretty hungry. He’d wait until Soap fell asleep to eat. It wasn’t the longest he went without food, but probably best not to get faint while holding someone captive. “Get in before it gets cold.”

“You warmed it up?” Soap sounded genuinely surprised. “Thank you.’ 

Oh. Ghost felt a flicker of something intensely warm in his chest. He didn’t respond. He could hear Soap sink into the water. 

Soap moaned softly at the feeling of the warm water on his muscle and Ghost tensed, hands clenching. The atmosphere in the room changed. He could feel tension like a goddamn storm. 

Soap let out a small sound under his breath, a shuddering shaky thing. Like he was scared. 

Only then did Ghost notice how this probably looked. Ghost’s hand on his weapon, his other hand clenched tight. His posture had tightened, making him look even taller. He was also looking at Soap, though he couldn’t remember turning his head. 

Soap looked afraid. Ghost was only available to see above his chest, but he could see the soft curly hair though. 

The last thing he wanted to do was scare him. 

Ghost was out of the room, door clicking behind him. 

Fucking hell. 

He went in the kitchen, finding that Soap had cooked. Nice. He pulled up his mask long enough to scarf down some food, not wanting to waste too much time. 

Unfortunately, none of the clothes he wanted could be found, so he pulled a random shirt and pair of pants and set them in front of the door. “Clothes are right outside when you’re ready to get out.” 

Ghost perched on the bed, thinking hard. 

This was sustainable, but he couldn’t let him go. He’d have to figure this out. Somehow. 

[luminouslywriting]

Hey- hope the recovery process is going well for you. I wanted to request a pregnancy headcanon for the Pacific boys. Love all your work btw!

A/N: Hello darling! I'm so sorry it's been forever since you sent this in! Seeing as how I'm recovering from the flu, now seemed like a good time to post this haha! Here you are! Gif does not belong to me, it belongs to lucky-bastards

Please note that my requests remain open and I don't mind spam! Set in paragraph form for simplicity!

Robert Leckie: This man is a whole wreck, lemma tell ya. It's not that he's not excited, because he totally is! It's just that he loved the idea of you being pregnant as opposed to there being an actual living tiny thing growing inside of you. 20/20 hindsight haha. All in all, this man steps up and does a wonderful job. He's out here getting excited about the paint for the nursery, betting on the baby being a boy, talking to everyone about the baby—and overall a very excited father.

Snafu Sheldon: PANIC?! Silence?? It takes him some time to process, it's nothing against you babe. It's just that it was definitely an accident and was not planned and he doesn't even feel like a good enough person to deserve a kid. It takes him some time, but he wraps his head around it. He's very soft-spoken about having a child and being a father, but shows his love through the little things (little trinkets for the baby, goes out and gets your weird cravings).

Eugene Sledge: Also panics, bless your heart. But changes his tune very very quickly—he only panics because he doesn't know what to do about a baby. But then he starts talking to his parents and he realizes how excited he is for the baby. Definitely has reassurances for you that things are gonna be so great. Is happy whether the baby is a boy or a girl—just wants them to live a happy and a soft life tbh.

John Basilone: LITERALLY SO THRILLED. This man is out here whooping and hollering and kissing the living daylights out of you. It's like a dream come true and he is so so proud of you and the baby. Wants it to be a little girl because he wants the baby to be just like you—but also would love for it to be a boy. He's out here figuring out how to build a crib day freaking 3—this man wastes no time in getting the stuff that you need.

Runner Conley: You probably have to repeat it twice for the actual words to take effect. And then he's out here nervously buying baby food months in preparation that will have expired by the time the baby actually gets here. Does, in fact, blurt the news to everyone that he knows because he's so excited. Probably randomly reads a parenting book? For funsies? But then panics more over what the parenting book says.

Hoosier Smith: Super sweet and gentle about the entire thing. Takes the time to reassure you that you are in this together and he's gonna take care of you and the little peanut (yes, that's what he calls the baby). He's so mentally prepared for the entire thing, it's almost unnerving. But he's smooth as hell and calm getting things ready for the baby, ensuring that you're doing okay, and that you have whatever you need whenever you need it. 10/10 recommend this man.

Lew Chuckler: A baby? He takes a whole 10 seconds to process those words and has to legitimately think about how it happened haha. But once he's over the initial shock, I think he gets really excited. He's out here asking all sorts of pregnancy related questions and just wants to know that both you and the baby are going to be okay. He'd be more prepared than you are for the actual labor btw, he's got a go-bag and everything.

Sid Phillips: Doesn't panic, but he definitely processes what that means. Is very sweet and probably kisses you and your stomach—and promises that things are going to be the best for you two. He's so excited to be a dad that he won't even care on the gender of the baby as long as the baby is healthy. He's out here digging out his baby toys and sentimental things that he can give to the baby just for kicks and giggles.

[spacehostilityy]

rewatch nnt with me s2ep13-18

Hey boiz this is a draft from the summer but i want to enjoy interests again so it's getting published (ps i have an even cringier sideblog now @sillyspacehostilityy where i can rb things and not clog up y'all's feeds heehee)

it’s going by so fast 😭 BUT im gonna reread/actually finish the manga so it’s fine

“what do you think youre doing with her???” he’s making out with her Jericho, it’s kinda obvious

“I don’t think i like you. 😕” kwjfnlfsfighskfgl lollll

NEW INTROOOOO my second fave theme song too hehe

also the angst on this one is so good

there goes ban’s shirt. again

I honestly love Elaine’s rage, i wish they had left her just a tiny bit more fucked up. bc he exploding like that makes sense after all that she’s been through

cat fightttt. this does NOT pass the bechdel test

“asleep or awake, you’re the only thing that man thinks about” ouchie

mmm mind control anguish delicious

ban hearing that meliodas is the “traitor of the demon race” and just rolling with it<3

“Oh wait that was two! sorryyy i lost count” such a sassy little man i love him

ban has a pure and beautiful soul🥺

catch me crying over melban hahahaaaa

hendy looks cute in the tavern uniform tho haha

:(

im just glad they kill galand quick so zhivago can return to his son in a peaceful death

the “dad” KILLS MEEEE

im in love with deldry. which i guess is her whole thing

deldry and arden tho... 👀👀👀

actually so impressed with Jericho

galand liking golf is canon. do with this information what you will

IM SO EXCITED FOR ESCANOR HEEHEE

wait how did i forget Escanor’s tavern is called my sweet glutton thats so cute🥺🥺

escanor is so babygirl i love him so fucking much

i love them so much too

IN ENGLISH ESCANOR SAYS HE’S FEELING CHARITABLE FOR LETTING MELASCULA GO BUT IN SPANISH HE SAYS HES FEELING FEMINIST LOLLLL

Ban and King brother in law relationship is actually the funniest possible relationship in this show

Diane constantly wanting to eat hawk sparks joy

gilfrost kinda hot, sad that hes literally just vivian :/

howzer saying “that’s our diane” after she uses double hammer and she winks at him...

theyre just rlly cute im sorrry

no bc why does sir nanashi seem like a western portrayed japanese stereotype in japanese media?

arthur and meliodas are so cute i want to see them interact more !!

I LOVE MELIODAS AND BAN SM their funny little deranged rituals are so cute 🤪

rip to arthur tho he looked terrified lol

im going to cry like a bitch when they get reunited in purgatory

why does meliodas call Hawk “bovine bastard”? Bovine means cow or beef. As someone from Texas, i am intimately familiar with livestock classifications and i am CONFUSED. it should be porcine

tiny griamore is so fucking cute on hendy’s back😭

but ban looks fucking terrifying what is up with his face lol

I cant believe escanor almost got fucking taken out by gloxinia lol hes so much stronger than him

the start of arthur and nanashi’s friendship !!

gloxinia’s substitute looking like gerheade 😭

shes so beautiful 🥺

I love the implication that Elaine WAS in fact going to kill them lol

Ban: I KNOW you didn’t just call me a baby *hand gets torn off*

Meliodas: uhh Ban, what just happened to your hand??

Ban: don’t you change the subject >:/

king is about to die from being too horny damn

bro why is dreyfus so fucking ripped bitch got me blushing like DAMN

[nikoisme]

Heyo!!! :D Some questions for you!

What are some of your fave parts of the Iliad and Odyssey? And then do you have a favorite by Euripides?

How long have you been drawing?

Since your "lovable little bastard" is a lil calico, does she have any neat patches/spots that are cute? Example, Teddy has a big stripe that curves across her neck, so I like imagining her having "necklace" haha. Does your lil lady have any spots that are cutely shaped? 🥺

(Good luck in school! :D Know I'm rooting for you!)

hello hello :DD this is a much needed break from studying oh god thank you.

For The Iliad,, BOOK 6, THE HECTOR, ANDROMACHE AND ASTYANAX SCENE. Book 10 also slaps obviously, night raid my beloved. The laments over Hector in book 24 too :')) It never fails to make me cry. But there's a tiny little specific part of The Iliad that is my absolute favorite - when Menelaus tells Antilochus that Patroclus was killed:

Idk man it feels so real and raw and hngngng. And Antilochus my man.

Now for The Odyssey i'm basic af but it's the reunion wih Telemachus, Penelope and Laertes :') hits right in the feels. The marriage bed story. The orchard. God fuck. Also the several little moments when Telemachus and Odysseus just,, exchange knowing smiles or glances with each other (when Odysseus is disguised as a beggar). It's just so neat i don't know why. Telemachus doesn't even know Odysseus and Odysseus doesn't know who his son is (yet!!), but they just kind of clicked together (when it came to scheming and plotting ofc. It's in their genes).

Tbh I haven't read too much of Euripides, I have quite a few plays sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read. So i should probably, yknow, do that hahaa. But my favorite so far is Iphigenia at Aulis! It's just so heartbreaking and tragic and painful and ahdbagshjj. mannn.

I started drawing since I could hold a colored pencil lmaoo. i just did it sometimes as a kid, i liked it and was seen as the "art kid" in school (now that I think of it, I was actually more the "a pleasure to have in class" kid,, but hey i was the one people ran to during art projects lmaoo). It was 2020 when I really wanted to get into it - especially digital art, since I've been drawing on my phone and the family computer with a mouse in godforsaken Gimp up to that point - and I got my first drawing tablet the same year! Funnily enough I started drawing humans about... 1,5 years ago?? I was actually, lo and behold, a warrior cats artist for a few years :'DD

NOW. SHE HAS SO MANY SPOTS THAT I ABSOLUTELY ADORE. For example, all her paws are white - but only one is black with a single white toe:

And she has some incredible markings on her face if i can say so myself:

Especially since the orange marking goes in a straight line across her face, it's so neat. And her fluffy white neck/throat marking :D

And thank you for school AGJSJSDHHH. I have my last test on Monday so I should be finally free next week! The worst tests are over now, thankfully. This is hell :')

[aajjks]

aww, i’m fine. i’ve just been busy with school, work, & financial stuff 😮‍💨 i’m excited to piss the king off and start more drama haha

TC!dad!JK

finally, after hours of excruciating pain you’ve given birth a boy. a beautiful baby boy with a head full of hair and round cheeks. already, you could tell your first borns genes would be greatly dominated by your shocked husband who was in tears. you’ve officially become a mother at the young age of 22 and you’re scared, terrified.

this is real life. you actually pushed a baby from your womb. you grew life inside you and is currently feeding that life from your nipples that release the needed nutrients for your infant baby.

“oh my God” you cry “i—we…we’re parents”

“congratulations, queen y/n” bows the nurses and dr. lee who instructs the nurses to prepare a bath to clean your son and clothes to wear.

“congratulations, your highness. i am honored to have deliver the prince of this nation. have the two of you decided on his name?”

you look at jungkook with concerned eyes because you’ve yet to come up with a name for the little one. neither of you have been talking to each other, so there wasn’t an agreement for his name but you’ve got one in mind…

“i…i was thinking about naming him after my father”

~🫧

What?

“Everyone out.” He commands. What the fuck are you talking about? Has pregnancy fucked up your brain? Jungkook feels his anger bubble up and he’s going to scream at you, but he can’t.

As soon as all of the people are out of the chamber, he turns his attention on you and his gaze is really hard right now. He’s glaring at you.

“what the fuck is wrong with you? That bastard killed my mother- I told you on our wedding night and yet you still have the audacity to ask me if we can name our child after him?!” he tries to keep his voice down because the baby is busy feeding and it’s a wholesome sight, really? Watching this tiny little chubby guy suck on your skin.

But you just had to ruin the mood.

“Yn it’s like you always try to piss me off don’t you? First, you don’t tell me about your pregnancy and now you are asking me to our child after that man?!” he doesn’t even know what’s your father name but he doesn’t care.

Oh, he cannot lose his shit right now. But you know how angry he gets at the mention of your father yet you’re still…. “shut your mouth. We won’t name him after him and that’s final. You could name him after your grandfather or whatever but not your damn father.”

Jungkook inhales and exhales, because his anger is threatening to explode- but you have just given birth so maybe this is just bluff you’re talking.

He will be patient- even though you’re really trying to test his fucking patience. “ this is my baby. Our baby together. Understand that, and never ask me a question like this ever again.” He whispers, tearing his eyes off of you.

“we could name him something else I’ll think about the name and you can too.. but not anything to do with your father I swear to God.”

[galaticrow546]

Breaking news: local artist finally finishes another fic he started and actually tried his best ( also breaking news: i actually write fics, i just dont finish many of them :') )

Anyways here is a little thing i wrote ( quite badly but i tried ) about the Idea of "Dream is small but he still get to keep his memories"

Its so hard to edit the story on Tumblr mobile what ;-;-

Btw i forgot mostly of what happened in OSD so It might be a little strange sorry-

Anyways, OSD belongs to @calcium-cat

Pain, thats all Dream felt for a moment, he twisted and shifted, trying to make the pain go away, even If It was for a while, It was also really dark too, he has no Idea what Night made him drink, but he doesnt feel good.

He felt panic as he noticed his conscience slipping away, as he panicked around, he felt a huge pain going through his entire body as he fainted.

…

After moments, he woke up again, as he slowly got up, he kept hissing at the pain that still jolted through his entire body:

-"Ugh, this sucks" thought the little guardian, "I wonder what Night gave me", as he thought, he opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times before brushing his hands on his face to try and stir himself more awake, but he swears his hands felt...different.

As he opened his eyes, he took a glimpse at his hands, his tiny gloved hands looked smaller than usual, he turned around slowly to find his oversized clothes laying around him, and the clothes he was wearing weirdly looked like the clothes he wore when he was younger, as the realization crept in, Dream slowly realized what just happened, as panic began to grow inside him, he nervously touched his own hand and face while searching for a mirror.

It didnt take long before he found a small, partially broken mirror laying around the room he was in:

-"...It's becoming increasily obvious...I can deny It no longer…"

And, with a tired and defeated breath, Dream spurted out:

-"I am small"

Dream sat back while crossing his arms, how on earth would he even survive here with this size? he needed to come up with a solution fast, before anyone dangerous come-

*click*

Dream's eyes widen at the sound of the door being opened, as he panicked inside, he quickly jumped somewhere to hide, and for now, he needed to be careful to not be spotted.

-"Ugh, now to see how Dream is-"

Night paused, looking at the clothes laying around, It was silent, too silent, he walked over and grabbed a fistfull of Dream's present cape as he began searching for any trace of Dream, but his expression slowly began changing from a calm and neutral face to a worried and panicked one, he moved on from the clothes and began to search around the room, Dream cant be dead right? It was only a magic repressor he gave him after all.

Dream quietly watched from afar, and with a determined face, began to crept closer to Nightmare, ready to jump out and hopefully succeed to escape, a moment passed before Night got a surprise attack from a screaming skeleton toddler, he climbed Night in a rush while he was trying to get Dream out with force, and eventually, the guardian was caught by one of Nightmare's tentacles, as the cyan eye began analizing him, Dream tried to angrily break out of the tentacle's grasp, constantly trying to bite and punch It, It was quickly getting tiring.

Night watched the toddler scream and struggle silently, his face with an serious expression, Dream quickly looked at him angrily and tiredly as he spoke out:

-"Night...I will..ugh...I will break free, let...let me go"

Night listened silently and looked to the side like he was thinking, and with a wide grin, Night answered Dream's request:

-"...no"

Dream gave a tired sigh at the response as the silence between them remained, well, until a particular oreo came in the room in a rush:

-"Night are you ok? I heard screaming-"

Cross paused and stared at the scene, Night holding a toddler that looked like Dream on his tentacles and the toddler looking defeated and tired, It also looked so dirty too, Cross looked at Night silently and confused, Night sighed as he started:

-"Cross, believe It or not, this is Dream...yeah, i know its confusing, and i dont exactly know what happened to him, but trust me, its him"

The toddler tiredly looked up at the ex-royal guard, and shot him a tired but "ready-to-attack" glare, he knew he couldnt actually do much, but he could at least try.

Cross quickly spoke up:

-"...ok? Soooo you have no Idea what happened to him and he is just a toddler now", Night nodded calmly as the toddler looked seriously to the side, at this point, Dream just wanted to sleep, or at least take a nap, and the tentacle had a really tight grip so struggling was quite Impossible.

Night glared at Dream and gently approached him with a wide grin on his face, as Dream looked at him motherfuckerly:

-"awwww, the little kid right here wants to take a nap?" Said Night mockingly.

"No, i dont, let me go Night" spat Dream rudely.

"Not happening little pal, you're staying here until i decide what to do with you" grinned Night maliciously

Dream stayed silent at Night's response, but still kept glaring angrily at Night.

-"anyways, perhaps we should introduce our new pal here to the rest of the team since It might take a while for us to decide what to do, shall we?"

-"yeah, sure"

As Night walked towards the door, Dream looked at Cross with such a serious look that surprised Cross a little, he didnt expect the toddler to suddenly look at him while he follows Night, Cross glared at Dream back, but this only seemed to make Dream look offended, they both kept "fighting" with shooting each other daring and sometimes offensive looks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-"stop hitting me!"

Cross was having a hard time with bathing Dream, it seems that the little guy wouldnt give up so soon, It would be a miracle If he even behaved a little, but everytime Cross tried, Dream kept hitting him as hard as he can, and he also seemed very panicked whenever Cross succesfully held him, and then resorted to squirming and throwing water at him, honestly, Cross just wishes this would end soon.

-"I will not stop fighting!, leave me alone at once foul wench!"

Cross looked at him silently as Dream looked back with equal seriousness, they both stayed in silence until Cross handed him the soap and the sponge, as Cross tiredly got up to leave, Dream whispered at him silently:

-"......thank you"

Cross looked back at him with a questioning look, as Dream seemed to ignore the glare, he silently looked away as he left the bathroom, but not before whispering back:

-"......yeah...no problem"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross was eating his dinner happily, well, until Night requested him to call Dream for dinner, since he didnt come down from his room for a while, Cross lazily walked towards the room Dream was given, and then knocked on the door a few times:

-"Dream? You there buddy? Come eat dinner, hope you like soup"

The bedroom stayed silent, Cross knocked a few more times:

-"ok buddy listen, im not joking, Night is telling me to come and get you to get down for dinner"

A faint shuffling was heard from inside the bedroom, Cross waited a while before deciding to turn around the doorknob and opening the door.

All he saw was a little toddler cuddling to the blanket It was given, It looked rather happy and comfy there, but It quickly opened his eyes to stare at Cross, and in turn, shift to sit on the comfy bed he was on:

-"ah, you have returned, welcome back" greeted Dream tiredly.

Cross stared at him confused, why would he even greet him after all of the chaos that happened today, perhaps he was so tired that he gave up on the thought of attacking him? Well, If thats the case, then at least he wont have to deal with a angry Dream.

Cross approached Dream slowly and quite cautiously, as Dream looked at him boredly, the blanket he was holding was quite fluffy though.

-"um, ok so, Night told me to get you to come down for dinner, now answer me, do you like soup?"

-"...hmmmm yeah sure, soup is nice"

-"uh right"

The silence was quite awkward, Dream seemed like he calmed down, but there was still a bit of cautiousness in him, seems like they werent getting his trust so soon.

-"...so, will you come down?"

Dream looks down, thinking carefully and silently before a grumbling sound coming from his stomach (???) broke the silence, Dream got spooked by the sudden sound and made a scared squeak because of It.

As Dream took some time to calm down from the sudden spook, he slowly stared at Cross:

-"...fine, I'll come down"

-"good, follow me, or dont, its your choice"

As Cross made his way to the door, Dream quickly got down from the bed and let go of the blanket he was holding at the entire conversation, following after Cross silently.

[maesphantoms]

Dear John (John Price x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: slight mention of injuries

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,151

This is completely due to @uselsshuman and because I’m reading Midnight Sun so I needed to write soft Price haha

Also if there’s any weird formatting that’s completely due to posting this from mobile haha

Edit: I found the original letter I wanted Sparrow to write and found some errors that made it through my proofread haha

From the moment you met John Price, you could tell that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, no matter how short it may end up. The first time you laid eyes on him, was when you first joined SAS. You both had no idea just how crazy your lives would get in the future. Whenever you were on a mission together, your bodies moved as one unit. You both had no problem being able to protect the other or in the event of one being an idiot, slapping some sense into them.

"You drive me insane sometimes, it's ridiculous." John hissed under his breath as he slowly began to suture a wound on your shoulder. His hands were ever so gentle, even if all he wanted to do was strangle you for not being more careful.

"Just doing my duty in trying to turn your hair gray." You joke, trying to not focus on the pull of your skin with every stitch.

“Well, you’re doing a damn good job of it…” He mutters.

Closing your eyes, you tried to push away the wave of nausea you always got with stitches. John could sense this and patted your forearm before going as fast as he could. It was so easy with him. You drove him absolutely insane, but he would always look out for you. And he did the same to you.

“At least I saved the beard.” You breathed out.

John let out a quiet chuckle. He was now placing a bandage over the sutures. His hands were warm against your skin, leaving what felt like tiny zips of lightning in their wake. As soon as he was done, you felt his arms snake around your waist, signifying you were clear to open your eyes. The safe house was quiet. The rest of your teammates were outside, loading up their equipment as you got ready to move.

“When do you have to leave?” You whisper, putting your hands on top of his and entwining your fingers.

“As soon as we get back. We have to figure out where the bastard is.” His voice rumbled as he leaned into you.

You hum quietly. Your relationship was complicated, both of you knew the other had feelings for the other. The fear of not knowing what would happen while off on missions apart from the other kept you from moving passed what it is now. A mutual pining. Hand holding, letter writing. It was your idea to start the letters, in fact. Mostly a joke, you found it hilarious to write out the words Dear John. The mental picture of Channing Tatum in John’s bucket hat? Your favorite.

The biggest thing that stopped the two of you was the fact that his other team, his task force, kept him constantly going. You both never knew if he’d come back. He could tell you some of the things that occurred, but not all of them. None of the super confidential stuff. You knew he got betrayed by some higher-up and that he had to find him to make him pay.

“What if we got our own flat? Somewhere where it’s just us. That way I don’t have to worry about the others peeking at our letters?” You said in a small voice, leaning your head back on his shoulder. Opening your eyes, you could see a small smile on John’s face, a gloating smile.

“Mmhmm, for the letters.” He teased, whispering in your ear, “No other reason.”

“Mmm,” You smiled, “You write some pretty saucy things, Captain. Don’t want the men to know that Ole Price has a soft side.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He smiled into your neck before reluctantly pulling away from you. Once again, duty called you both out of your bubble of happiness.

It was a month before you saw John again. A brief smile was exchanged across the hanger. He was surrounded by 3 other men you instantly recognized as Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish. Sadly, you were on your way out to your own mission, you made a mental note to ask him about the new pink scar he sported on his check as you loaded into a helicopter.

John felt the familiar ache in his heart when he saw you. No matter how brief of eye contact you shared, you never failed to make his heart beat out of his chest. And he's been away for oh, so long. The one thing he was looking forward to more than a hot shower and his bed was you. It didn't surprise him that you were tasked to go on a mission the day he was getting back. It happened a lot.

"Okay, boys. Go get some rest. Soap, Ghost. Go see medical for your wounds" John looped his fingers in his vest. Oh, how he wanted the damn thing off. But he had to find your letter first. it was routine now. When the letters first started, you left them on each other's beds. Then you decided to hide them. Something to keep the other on their toes. John enjoyed it as much as you did.

"Where did you hide it this time, little sparrow?" John mumbled under his breath as he closed his door.

To his surprise, you left it on his bed. He narrowed his eyes as he picked it up. The familiar scrawl of your handwriting warmed him. He'd never admit it to anyone, but your letters were a source of deep comfort for him. He's kept all of them. They were hidden in a box you wouldn't know about until way later. Not by his choice either, you little snoop. His fingers ran across the words.

Dear John,

This is something I would've liked to tell you in person, but duty calls. Funny how it always seems to call when you’re coming home lately. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that the heavens had it out for us. And even if they do, I wouldn’t give up that easily. Oh, right! The point of this. I got us a flat! Well, it's more of a townhouse. No, more of a remote cottage. We can’t get any more private than that! I expect you’re going to pitch a fit about making such a big decision without you, but trust me, it was a steal. It's a bit of a fixer-upper, but nothing we can’t handle. I’ve hidden the key and the address, just to be an asshole. Good luck! I’ll see you when I get home.

Always,

Your little sparrow

John's heart bloomed. He thought you were teasing him when you said you wanted to live with him. Smiling to himself, he quickly looked around the barren room. The aches in his exhausted body were long forgotten. There weren’t very many places you could hide things. Lifting the mattress, he saw a key with a small J attached to it. It was real. You two had a house. A place where it was just you two.

“Captain? The shower is free.” Gas’s voice pulled him out of his daydream of waking up next to you.

“Got it.” He called back, continuing to search the small room for the address.

As he searched, he remembered the first mission he ever went on with you. He kept a close eye on you because he was scared that something would happen to you. You seemed too fragile to be able to handle yourself. But the longer he watched, the more he was impressed. You were equally as powerful as you were beautiful. He knew from that point on that you were more than capable of protecting yourself.

You fell faster than he did. He had so much kindness for you, always checking on you after missions. Never failing to go with you to the medics when you were injured. There were countless times when you had saved each other on missions. The first time you knew Price felt the same way, you had been shot in the thigh and couldn't walk.

“Listen to me, Sparrow. I'm getting you out of here.” He held your face in his hands as you panicked because he wouldn't leave you. You didn't want anything to happen to him because of you. You could already see the rest of the group was gone. John looped your arm around his neck and wrapped his tightly around your waist.

Once he got you to relative safety, he looked at your thigh and lighted the straps on it, making a makeshift tourniquet. The mixture of adrenaline and panic wasn't quite enough to numb the pain that began searing down your leg as he did so. He mumbled an apology before lifting you again and making a mad dash for the evac. You knew right then how much you had fallen for him. He was just doing his job as Captain, you knew that, but you were so irrevocably in love with him.

Little did you know that was when John began to fall himself. The panic that filled his head once he heard you scream. The fear that you were gone when he watched you fall. It was almost too much to bear. So he told the others to get to the evac point and he ran to you. And he would keep running to you if that meant he could save you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you wouldn't have to if he was there.

The first time you two knew the other had feelings for you was also when you kissed for the first time. It didn't really count, in the end. You were giving him CPR, after all. The others still teased you. You couldn't help but smile. The feeling of his lips on yours? Ah, the best. It's cliché to say, but they felt like they were made to fit yours. It wasn't long before your second and first real kiss came. And you continued to love each other from a distance. Never becoming anything more than kisses, hugs, hand-holding... All when you two were hidden from the rest of your teammates. Silent "I love you"s exchanged. You become each other's source of comfort. A comfort you would unknowingly seek.

John reached underneath the small dresser and felt the edge of paper. His heart soared as he pulled it out and looked down at your familiar handwriting, completed with a small doodle of a house, John's hat, a sparrow, and a heart. He didn't know his heart could beat any faster. Such a simple thing could fill him with so much happiness.

Over the next few days, he did as much as he could to make the one-bedroom cottage with peeling yellow paint feel like home. Of course, he couldn't bring himself to ask any of 141 for help. He didn't know if you wanted them to know. The first thing he did was buy some better furniture than the off-white, broken-down sofa in the living room. The entire cottage smelled like mildew and had a thin layer of dust coating everything. Doing everything in his power, he transformed the small cottage into the place of your dreams.

When you got back from your mission, you immediately went to John's room on base. Even if he decided to not move in with you, you needed to see him. The smiles you exchanged when he got back weren't enough. It was a pleasant surprise that his room was empty. Quickly, you found Sergeant Garrick to make sure he wasn't on another mission. You didn't know if you could take it if he was.

"Oh, no, he's at his new house. I guess he got tired of staying on base." You had to fight back your smile, he obviously didn't want to tell anyone.

Nothing made your heart soar as much as pulling up to the small cottage and seeing John in the kitchen through the window. He obviously had music playing as he danced around. It took all you had to not immediately run inside and hug him. Forcing yourself to grab your duffle bag out of the backseat, you crouched past the window and slowly opened the door to be greeted by the most delicious smell and John's singing. You couldn't wait any longer, throwing down the duffle you ran into the kitchen and abruptly came to a stop, your hands covering your mouth.

John was wearing an apron covered in hearts as he stirred a pot on the store, the table covered in food. He looked over and the smile he gave you brought tears to your eyes. Running over to him, you wrapped your arms around him. He laughed into your hair, hugging you tightly.

“Welcome home, little sparrow.”

You were in heaven.

[pudimsuki]

Bakugou + pool + nsfw☺️

Pool fingering | Bakugou x reader

Hi, hope you like it ❤

Warnings: NSFW (18+ content), fingering, public place, jealousy, swearing cause it's our blasty boy, haha.

You knew you shouldn't test your luck with your hotheaded boyfriend. Of course you knew. But you did that? Well…

You’ve been teasing him all morning. Class 3-A went for a day off at the pool, planned by Kaminari and Mina, and you decided it would be a great idea to mess with your explosive lover.

First was the too-small bikini you decided to wear. Then you didn't pay much attention to him. Bakugou hates it when you don't pay attention to him. And to complete the package, you were spending way too much time with the other boys, even offering to put sunscreen on them.

Bakugou was fuming. You could tell even with your back turned to him. The way he threw daggers with his gaze at you wasn't the slightest bit subtle. The only reason he still hadn't done anything was his enormous pride, but to say jealousy wasn’t eating him alive would be a big fat lie.

He knew you were doing that on purpose. Oh, he fucking knew.

The way you bowed when talking to Kaminari, or the way you rubbed Kirishima's chest “oh so innocently” when you said he was getting stronger with his new training routine, being especially louder to make sure he would hear it.

He was getting tired of that little game you were playing. But it's when you went to that half and half bastard that he loses his shit.

“Todoroki-san, can you help me put on sunscreen? I can’t reach my lower back.”

The heterochromatic boy blinked at your question, surprised by the sudden request, but as soon as he held the bottle, Mina appeared at your side, whispering in your ear:

"Hope you know what you're doing, cause here comes the bomb."

Before you could react or respond, you felt your arm being gripped by a hand you knew all too well. Bakugou squeezed your arm, pulling you away from a stoic Todoroki who still held the filter in his hands.

“The fuck are you doing?” He growled in your ear.

You turned to face him, battering your eyelashes. “Nothing, Katsu.”

“Don’t play dumb now.” He said, red eyes burning yours. “You’re coming with me.”

You felt a shiver go up your spine, but chose to keep the facade.

“But Katsuki, I wanna swim.”

“I don’t care.”

You pout. “I wanna go to the pool.”

His jaw clenched at your behavior; you were walking on thin ice with him.

“And besides”, you proceed. “Everyone’s here, we can’t just leave now.”

He knit his brows, annoyed, but after a few seconds of deliberation, a mischievous smile came to his lips.

“You wanna go to the pool?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, you knew where that smile came from. “Uh, I guess so.”

“Great, then we go to the pool. You've spent way too much time with these extras.” You blinked, surprised at how easy it was to convince him, but followed him as he led you to one of the corners of the bluish pool.

The cold water was a balm for the hot summer day, and you felt every pore in your body quickly getting used to the change in temperature.

"Hey man, are you going to play?" Kirishima yelled at Bakugou, raising a water polo ball.

"Nah, I'm fine. I’ll play the next round."

Kirishima just shrugged "All right."

"Are you sure you don't want to play?" You asked, knowing your boyfriend's competitive nature.

Bakugou just wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning against the wall of the reservoir, keeping some distance from the others who were already gathering to form teams for the game.

"I have other things in mind." He spoke close to your ear, his voice showing signs of his earlier irritation.

You grinned. "Aw, Katsu. Did you get jealous? That's alright, everyone knows I'm taken."

"Oh, they know. But I think you need a little reminder."

“Yeah? And what are you planning to…” You stop mid sentence, gasping. “Katsuki, what are you doing?” You inquired, feeling him run two fingers up and down your clothed sex.

“Playing with what belongs to me. Got a problem with that?”

He rubbed harder, making you squirm your legs.

“Katsuki, not here.”

“You’re not the one making the rules here, sweetheart.” He growled, holding you in place with his strong arm, your back glued to his chest. “I think you need a little punishment for being such a fucking brat.”

With that said, you felt his hand go inside your bikini panties and moaned at the direct contact. The movement of water making you extra sensitive.

You try to pull away from him, eyes wide at your classmates who are playing absentmindedly not far away.

"Don't you dare leave here. It'll be worse if you try." His voice was angry. Oh boy, you were in serious trouble. "Now this is what's going to happen. You're going to stand here like a good girl while I play with you and you're going to control your fucking voice. Your moans are for my ears only, got it?"

You just nodded quickly, holding his arm for support. You knew there was no escape the moment Bakugou put something in his head.

You stifled a moan as you felt him circling your clit slowly.

"Tell me, how funny it was to tease me, uh?"

Bakugou squeezed your little bundle of nerves between his fingers. Hard. You whimpered, shifting your legs. “Sorry Katsu.”

"Sorry Katsu." He mocks, mimicking the tone of your voice. "I should spank your ass so everyone could see my handprints through that tiny thing you call a bikini."

Any answer you could think of caught in your throat, replaced by a loud moan as Bakugou thrust two of his thick fingers at once into your tight hole.

"Didn't I tell you to control your voice?" He ranted, knuckles deep inside of you. "Or do you want everyone to listen to you, uh? Do you want them to see you purring like a little kitten with just my fingers?"

“N-no, I don’t.” You manage to babble, even with his thrusting starting.

He pulled his fingers out almost completely and thrust them back in tightly. You bite your lip, trying not to make any noise, but he could clearly hear your muffled cries.

“(Y/n)-chan!”

Your eyes widen when you hear Ochaco's voice. For a terrifying second, you think she's aware of your "lewd acts" in the water, but the giant smile she wears makes your worries slip away. In fact, from that little distance, everybody thought he’s just being weirdly affectionate and hugging you, even though he wasn't much of a PDA man. That is, at least for the time being.

You held your boyfriend's wrist, but he pretended not to notice. Instead, he started to thrust with more vigor.

"Answer it." Bakugou ordered in your ear.

"Stop." You mumble, almost desperately.

"If you don't answer her, she'll move closer. You don't want her to see how tight you get around my fingers, do you?"

Your walls contracted involuntarily, causing Bakugou to giggle behind you.

"(Y/n)-chan?" She called again and you noticed with horror that she actually started to approach.

"Ochaco!" You said, too loud to sound normal. "H-hey."

She smiles at you, still oblivious to your boyfriend's steady hand turning you into mud. "Me and the girls are going to buy ice cream. Do you want to come?"

"Uh- I..." That could be an easy way out of the current situation. Bakugou couldn't say no in front of Uraraka, but a slight squeeze on your waist told you better not to test the waters with him. "I pass, s-sorry.”

"Oh okay." She said and you thought she was going to leave, but she frowned at you instead. "Are you okay?"

"Excellent!" Again, too loud. Bakugou chuckled softly. "I'm great."

"Oh, it's just... Your expression looks a little pained."

"Oh" you replied, self moan self surprise. "The... The water! The water is cold."

“Really? I think it’s…”

"Uraraka-san!" Mina yelled from afar. You almost closed your eyes in relief. "Let's go!"

"I’m going!" With that, she said goodbye quickly and left. You breathed, releasing the moan you had been holding back.

"Holy shit,” Bakugou laughed. “I don't know if round face is too slow or if you're just a good actress."

You, on the other hand, were too busy paying attention to the movement of his fingers to laugh.

He fastened his pace, making you close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder. You whimpered when you felt him hitting a spot that made you see stars. “Katsu, please.”

“What?” He asks above you. “You're gonna cum, princess?”

He could feel you were close, your walls tightening around the double digits. You started to feel a knot form in your stomach.

“Tell me who do you belong to.”

“You, Katsuki. I’m yours.” you cried, not really caring with anything but the feeling of his digits right now. You hoped that the loud laughter and shouts of your friends as they played covered your voice.

“Good girl.” He said, voice deep. You could feel his hard cock pressing your ass behind the fabric of both your bathing suits.

You didn’t last longer. Bakugou was quick to cover your mouth with his hand when you came. The noise you made would definitely have alerted someone closer. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he withdrew his fingers from inside you, your juices mixing with the water.

The boys called Bakugou to play the second round, but he declined by saying he wasn't in the mood. You blinked at him, still coming back from your high, wondering what he would do now, but he just kissed a spot behind your ear before whispering.

“We’re finishing this in the changing room.” He announced. “Guess It’s my turn to be pleased.”

Now, we love a jealous Bakugou, don't we?

Thank u for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account: @angie-1306]

[jamie-is-out-of-ideas]

There's something else I forgot to discuss in my original post. Maybe a trigger warning for discussing car crashes and shit like that.

I am never, ever, ever in my life going to learn how to drive. There is multiple factors that went into this decision, the main one is that I'm deathly afraid of having a big tic while driving and causing a collision and dying. I was talking about it with my Grandma and she told me about a Surgeon who had tics but was able to preform successful surgeries and not have tics during the procedure, and it was a cool story but it did nothing to change my mind or rid me of those fears. And my friends and family are like " your gonna need to learn how to drive." my counter argument is that I don't want to die and possibly cause other deaths and, electric scooter. I'll just scooter my way to all my appointments, or take the bus i guess like most people who can't drive do.

Slight topic change now, also when people call tics "cute". Once I had one of those one time vocal tics that you have and then it disappears and it was me saying "cookie" in a high pitched voice and then my older sister said " aw, that was so cute" and I was like " haha haha stfu." And on time me ex-friend showed my this girl on TikTok who said she had TS and she had a lot of tics that were "cutesy" like tiny sneezes or high pitched sounds and my friend was like " Isn't she so cute." And I this was after my diagnosis and I was just sitting there like " man, if i wasn't scared of confrontation we'd be having words right now." Sorry if this reblog has more "humour" in it this is kind of a heavy topic and the jokes make me feel a little less shitty about it.

People with Tourrette's Syndrome are constantly babied, made fun of, accused of being a faker because of real fakers, afraid of social interactions, afraid to go outside, afraid to see family and friends, and some of you bastards think that it funny, that its cute, that its something you can fake to get quirky points on TikTok. Imagine being so shitty that you do that for attention, make light of something that is considered chronic and is debilitating to some because you want attention from people that don't know you and aren't going to think about you twice once your image isn't being directly shot into their retinas from their phones. While also spreading misinformation about something that is already so stigmatised and misunderstood by so many people. So thanks for making our live harder because your conceded and lonely.

Also the people who do fake it do a really bad job of it since there's so little information about it. I have it and there's still a lot that I don't know other than what I found out through experience (bad experience at that).

Before replying to this post if you do not have TS or a tic disorder please do your proper research. Sorry this is really long I just have a lot to say and this isn't even half of what I have to say.

Why Do People Say They Want Tourrete's

Okay so like coming up on 2 years now, I was diagnosed with Tourrette's Syndrome, and like, it sucks ass. Like I know it's kinda shitty to say but having it is shitty. I will never understand the people who fake it for attention, or say they wish they had it so they could swear in public. Like I wish I could give those people what I have to deal with for like 2 days, and then they'd shut their mouths. Like being able to swear in public and attention from others is not worth the pain it causes someone who has it.

I'm embarrassed to go outside and go to family gatherings and be around my younger cousins (one of them forgot my name). I have motor tics that cause me to physically hurt myself. One time I wasn't wearing long pants and I was angry and I had a tic in response to my anger and that tic was me punching myself in the thigh and it left a horrible bruise for a while (large and purple and painful). I have common tics where I bonk myself on the top of my head or hit myself in the face. And there is also a motor tic I have where I bite myself, rather hard sometimes.

In eight grade (pre-diagnoses) I was ticcing (if that's how you phrase it) and I was flapping my hands and my English/Socials teacher was in the middle of explaining something, stopped and said " Jamie, what are you doing?" I was sitting in the front row, so everyone was able to see me, and they were all staring at me, now on top of that, I also didn't have an answer because I didn't know what I was doing, I had no explanation for her so I just stuttered over my words and tearing up. My math teacher was worse that year definitely, she called my tics a distraction and suggested in a condescending way that whenever i was having tics I should go on a 5 minute walk. Now if you have or know anything about Tourrete's or have it/ a tic disorder, you can see how that would be a problem. Also in repose to the swearing thing, only 10% of people with Tourrette's Syndrome actually have vulgar vocal tics, it's called Corprolalia, and despite affecting a minority of people with Tourrette's its the most stigmatised aspect of it.

So people who think its funny or want it just to get attention or just to be able to say inappropriate things without getting in trouble, please carefully consider having to deal with every aspect of this and then how much people who do have envy you and the normalcy you have.

[pa-panda-heroes]

Hey u seggsy mf 🙄☝🏻 could u do hcs for nanami, sukuna and megumi where they get into a fight w fem!reader and something bad happens to her before they reconcile? Angst that ends w fluff basically haha. Okay ily bye 😽💕

Angst with fluffy ending is apparently something I’m good at so LETS DO IT. Idk how I feel about these omg send help. I hope you enjoy!!

Nanamin, Sukuna, and Megumi fighting with reader and she gets hurt!

Nanamin:

Nanami Kento doesn’t fight over trivial things. Maybe there’s a slight disagreement, and he’ll move on, encouraging you to do the same. It’s not worth the time or energy, he thinks.

There’s not much he would argue about, actually. He’s a reasonable man, he doesn’t mind compromise where reasonable. But he likes to stick to his routine, his ways, his preferred methods.

So whatever you got into a fight over must’ve been big, something that wasn’t at all trivial enough he (and you) could brush it off, something that might have involved a life or death situation for at least one of you (and potentially a civilian or more) whilst on a job.

Nanamin doesn’t worry; he’s adept putting himself in control of a situation where need be. He plans five moves ahead of the move he’s currently making, he comes up with backup plans - he’s a quick thinker, even when his temper might be flaring at you. But he won’t do what he’s told. He has his own ways.

He’s angry, to be sure. You had made one move that totally changed the situation on top of your previous spat and everything was getting worse - even more so when you were hurt after getting separated. It looked pretty bad. You were okay until you fell unconscious, then he was worried.

He dealt with the curse as quickly as he could safely, ensuring it kept a decent distance away from the worry-inducing, unconscious you. The entire time he fought the damn thing off, he thought about your wound, whether it was superficial or deep, how much blood you lost, and how quickly he could get you aid.

Nanami pretty much gets so intent on cleaning this mess up and getting you help, that the next thing he knows, you’re laying in bed, bandaged up, and resting.

Once you’re stabilized, he’ll get you flowers, he thinks. The kind you like best. Maybe he’ll snatch your preferred snacks, if the kind doctor allows you to eat them. He can be stuck in his ways, he knows that. He has his own ways of doing things, but so do you. Next time he’ll have to figure out a way that makes you both happy.

Sukuna:

Getting into an argument with this bastard is way too easy. As intimidating and menacing as Sukuna can be, he can also be bitchy and stubborn as hell. Maybe even prissy, if you think about it.

So whatever argument you get into was very likely not your fault. Sometimes you have to wonder if he does it for entertainment, but then you hear the “human matters are trivial” bullshit that makes your blood boil. No, he’s just an ass sometimes. Well, he is a curse, you suppose.

All that said, he was always quick get over your little lovespats, and it’s not like he ever threatened or attacked you (in any way, much to your surprise) personally - it was just his attitude, usually. It’s not like you constantly argue in some never-ending cycle.

But nevertheless, when you’re arguing, you are pissed. Maybe he earned the title “King of Curses,” fine, whatever, but the entitlement it gave him was still aggravating. Not as aggravating as getting hurt, though.

...although, that wasn’t half as aggravating as getting hurt and... needing his help. You’re going to avoid that like the plague, you tell yourself, trying to sew up your side on your own. That’s what you get for trying to go solo, you supposed. You were up for it, you knew you were! How did this happen?

Thankfully the wound was superficial enough, but it’s hard to do when your hands won’t stop trembling. Doesn’t help that it hurts and you’re light headed, probably from blood loss. Maybe you’re crashing from the adrenaline spike of battle. Who turned the lights off?

Apparently you’d passed out. And apparently, he helped you out, because when you awake you see that shit-eating grin sitting across your bed. You can tell him to shoo all you want, but it won’t work. You’re stuck with him, now, and he’s going to give you so much grief, because he told you not to do the mission solo. And he was right. He’ll never let you live it down.

You pout and refuse to say anything, crossing your arms and looking away. He teases you and gives you a proud “I told you so,” yet you still say nothing. He lets you rot in silence, although his patience fades away and he makes his way to you, grabbing your neck and pulling you toward him as he plants a tiny kiss to your forehead. You’ll never let him live that down, you decide.

Megumi:

Pretty boy here is fairly quick to argue. When he wants something done, he wants it done his way and usually his way only. He can be argumentative. Dare you say that’s the Zen’in blood in him? Anyway.

He does get to a point where he’s just, done arguing and sometimes gives up. Most of the time he’ll suggest you both take a breather and come back to the issue later. But this time he just kept going, to the point you forgot what the initial problem even was.

Megumi didn’t, though. He told you another sorcerer had his eyes on you in a very not professional manner, and you simply scratched your neck and told him you not to worry and that you didn’t think so. No, he knew so, and he was a little hurt you blew him off like that.

Maybe his jealousy and lack of sleep was clouding his judgement, because he told you how he felt, and when you became defensive he just continued arguing. Megumi wanted the point across, he wanted you to look out for yourself more - there are guys out there you ought to be wary of.

But because his brain shuts down when it comes to you, he didn’t get that point across like he wanted. Instead, he came off as aggressively jealous and, quite frankly, a bit of an asshole.

He’s not a possessive boyfriend at all, you know this by now. But seeing another guy after the oblivious you had him seeing red. Honestly, he didn’t trust the other guy even before you met him. He was a half decent sorcerer, but he was just in it for the money.

To say that Megumi felt like banging his head against a wall was an understatement. So when he finds you in the hospital hurt, he feels even more like utter shit. Flowers weren’t enough. No, not chocolates... Animal plushies? No, that’s not it. He wracks his brain but falls short. Use your words, Megumi!

Finally he gives up and decides to talk it out with you. Luckily for him, you realise what he was trying to say for the most part, so he doesn’t have to trip over his own tongue explaining. With a sigh at his fortune (that you picked him of all people), Megumi sits on your hospital head and pulls you close for a hug. Your bedside table is bare and the room is honestly boring. Maybe flowers weren’t a bad idea, after all.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Oooh you gave me a kiss or diss? Thanks! Now what are the-

I can't believe you'd do this to me Slashing... I thought we were friends (jk of course XD)

Ok, let's get through this. I must answer no matter how difficult XD

HARPER ALEXANDER AND FREDDY KRUEGER!? I... WHY!? It's... It's FREDDY *deep breathes* But it's also Alexander... I... I... Ok fine, I'll kiss if I get to pick what version of Freddy I kiss (I think you said one version was slightly better than the others?). Alexander can comfort me with his southern gentlemanliness after I have to kiss that nightmare demon.

Scroop, Gaston, AND Frollo... You know, this would almost have been a diss since there are two undesirable bastards in this, if not for the fact I'm pretty sure Gaston and Frollo would get too absorbed in arguing with each other to kiss me (I'm certain Frollo would think Gaston more sinful than the average man, and Gaston would be like "But there's no one here like Gaston!". Bonus points if Frollo thinks that Gaston is saying he's a gift from God or something and gets absolutely furious with him). That'll give me time to sneak off with the hot alien XD so Kiss. (Even if they didn't, kissing one of them in front of the other will definitely get them fighting anyway XD)

Driller Killer and Doll!Chucky? Oh that's actually easy, Kiss. Chucky's just a doll, even if he is grabby and murderous, and I'll happily get past that to kiss the true demon of my dreams (maybe he'll be willing to protect me from Chucky if I promise to go 'all the way' with him. Ok bye-)

.... Yeah I'm willing to Kiss the nasty sorcerer so I can kiss Maleficient (at least he's hot-)

Dr. Facilier and Jim Starling... I have to feed into a ducks ego to get the real gentleman... You know what? I dealt with Gaston, I'm willing to do that. Kiss.

.... damn it Definite Kiss XD Besides, Gaston's arrows ain't got nothing on a sea witch

Those are my answers! This was the first Kiss or Diss where it was all kisses XD what about you? What are your answers?

Omggggggg, your reaction actually made me laugh XDD Of course I had to do it to you haha XD Payback for all those kiss/marry/kills in the past!!

Oh you're very brave! XD I'm sure Harper would appreciate your very courageous act in order to kiss him XDD And yes, Original Freddy is better because he is not a pedophile- so, yeah. (Hence why I dissed the HELL outta them both in your last kiss or diss ask!!). And yeah- I would so pick Kiss for this one too XDD

Oh the idea of Gaston and Frollo fighting is so fun XD That giant man thinkin' he's so great and pouting when the tiny delicate old man calls him filth. Plus they're both french so they're arguing in there language, while Scroop stands to the side so confused and angry in 'Grumpy Old Alien' XD I'd happily kiss them all anyway (Well, sort of happily. With Gaston and Scroop).

This one'll have to be a diss from me! ^^ I just don't know the Driller Killer very well and the only kiss I'd give doll Chucky is on the head. And OMG!! Trading yourself for doll protection!! XDD ... respect. salute.

KISS! I'm lukewarm on Mal but Jafar is a whole husband ^^ So... (And yes. He is hot. I'm glad you agree XD They both are! ^^ )

Same as the last for me! Kiss because while I feel eh about Dr Faciler (In that way. i love both the shadow man and Mal as great great Villains- I'm just not attracted to them in anyway), I love Jim. Dramatic ass narcissistic duck.

You're so right, Ursula would probably kick Gaston's ass. I'd so kiss them both too!

[cdroloisms]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

[ask-the-eu6]

Are you guys watching the Olympics these days?

(Also,congrats to the Netherlands for winning the silver medal in the mixed team archery and Belgium for winning the silver medal in the men's road race.Hope to see more amazing performances in the coming games.)

Netherlands: Thank you. In the end I won 10 gold medals, 12 silver medals and 14 bronze medals for a total of 36 medals. I’d say that’s a job well done. Ranked 7th and 1st of the EU member states :)

Belgium: Look at you bragging, stoefer.

Netherlands: No need to be jealous, zusje.

Belgium: I am not. We won 3 gold medals, 1 silver medal and 3 bronze medals, a total of 7. I’m quite happy with that result. 

Belgium: Now let’s answer the second ask related to the olympics.

Netherlands: Indeed. Obviously, even outside of professional sports, bikes are an important part of our daily life in the Netherlands. During winter we like ice skating. Having lots of canals, it makes sense that rowing is a sport we got an olympic medal in. We also receive alot of medals in swimming.

Belgium: Bikes are also a big part of daily life in Belgium (at least in the north). People love to watch the cycling together with a cold beer. I also want to mention that we’re doing quite well in football (1st in the FIFA-ranking). We ended up winning a gold medal for hockey after a very tense and stressful match against Australia. And one of our beloved gymnasts won gold in the uneven bars event. Our last gold medal was won in heptathlon.

Romano: Obviously, having won the European Cup, football is quite important for us too. We beat the English in the final, just like we beat the English in the men’s 100m sprint.

Italy: Yeah, and it was amazing! We have never won any medal in the 100m sprint before! We also won gold in boxing.

Romano: So, don’t tell us we cannot defend ourselves! Looking at you, potato bastard!

Germany: I’m holding a riding crop. Do you really think it’s smart to make threats?

Italy: And his horse might stomp on you, fratello.

Romano: hmpff

Germany: Anyways, I won 4 medals in horse riding.

Belgium: Mostly with Belgian horses :3

Germany: Yes, that is true, thank you. Aside from that, we also won a number of medals in athletics and canoeing. I’m quite happy with those results. Football would have to be the most popular sport in Germany.

France: I’m a man of multiple talents *wink*

Romano: What the hell does that mean?

France: :)

France: Anyways, I still haven’t lost my fencing skills. Bet I could still slash my initials in England’s attire.

Germany: Let’s not...

France: I could also beat his ass in judo.

Belgium: *giggles*

France: Lastly we won a gold medal in volleyball. Outside of the olympics, football is also a beloved sport here.

Luxembourg: Obviously being so small, I can count the medals throughout my history on one hand. I won a silver medal in 1920 in Antwerps, two silver medals during the winter games in Albertville in 1992. And the one gold medal I won, was by Josy Barthel during the games in Helsinki in 1952. That was so unexpected that when they had to play my anthem, the musicians didn’t have the music sheets and made a song up on the spot. Only the athlete and his family were aware that wasn’t the Luxembourgish anthem :)

Netherlands: *pat pat* There, there, broertje.

Belgium: Poor dear, haha

Netherlands: Thank you for your ask.

Some tiny mun addition

We are of course almost a month late, but these asks take a bit of time... so apologies in any case! This was a collaboration between two of the muns. One of them drew the characters the other the sport related objects. 

The horse here is quite interesting but it does not compare to the first version of a horse that mun drew: Meet Hönse:

Also extra info:

Here’s a picture of Luxembourg’s only gold winner:

During the celebration where they were supposed to play the correct anthem: the Heemecht, but they couldn’t find it.

Here’s a 5 minute video with the explanation of how an underdog could win, it’s quite funny and inspiring: X

Anyway, thank you for your ask!