#he's a bit far forward so it's only a technically but still! he looks so tall compared to everyone else

[belphegored]

hii !! i hope its not too late to request for the 3 character kink prompt 👀 but was wondering ,, what about impact play / or pain play with gamigin ,, glasyalobolas and leraye if thats alright ? :>

Hiii hello, definitely not too late, thank you for sending one & happy holidays!

°•♡Minors dni; most to least likely to be into pain & impact play- Glasyalabolas, Leraye, Gamigin

°•♡ Glasyalabolas is the freakiest and so also the one who I think would enjoy being whacked around, hit and overall tormented the most. You could be cruel to him and he'd always say thank you.

• See him always taking things a bit too far >_> and so being into the most extreme kinds of masochism (especially but like, he can fall into sadism too. Can fall into anything to be fair...)

As long as it's by your hand he'd take anything, from affectionate, heavy handed face slaps, to cock slapping, to cbt, flogging, paddling, spanking overall...

• The image of this giant demon bent over, ass up, begging for a flogging, for you to leave his ass raw and bruised black though.....

If you have him like that, Glasyalabolas will last little to nothing, rocking forward and humping his fat cock against the mattress, spilling himself without second thoughts. Each whipping making him moan loud- he's not above it, starts with small grunts and becomes a literal whiny mess in no time.

• Extremely partial to hard face slapping for some reason; you hit him as hard as you can either prompted by him or during a fight and he can't help it, he's rock hard in seconds.

°•♡ Leraye is such a cutiepie but also obviously a masochist, being under Satan's command must do that to you...

Anyhow, maybe because he's been so nice and overall cute to us and he collects teddy bears I'm inclined to say he doesn't enjoy it as roughly as Glasyalabolas? But I mean...looks can be so deceiving.

• I said once Leraye probably is into caregiver doms and such and think a good caregiver also has to know how to deal a good spanking when their sub is being a brat, which he lovessss.

Probably has a preference for hands instead of props like whips and stuff, he wants you to rough him up on your own! Seldom anything feels better than you pulling him over your knee and messing him up until he's sobbing, especially if you're willing to baby him with aftercare right afterward.

•Give him a reason though: you've been a brat, you've messed this or that thing up. Leraye likes it best if you're punishing him instead of just beating him up without a purpose. It just makes it feel better, to know that he's made take it.

•Has a weakness for nipple clamps with a little weight too, likes to have them on until he's numb.

°•♡ Lastly I don't know Gamigin as much so that's the only reason that left him as the "least likely" but I still think he would enjoy having you roughhousing with him.

• He's a dragon technically so I see him being into the more primal side of pain and masochism? And comparatively to the two above, lightly. Though you never know...

He's probably into biting hard (both giving and especially receiving, until he's all marked up like a dog toy), scratching, and hair yanking and pulling :3. Gamigin probably does all these things to you unconsciously if he sees you as a mate and don't think he's even aware that there are some people that are not into it? It's just how he works naturally.

• But also likely expects you to do the same things to him unthinkingly, if you're not sinking your teeth into his shoulders until he winces and his hips buck forward are you really that into him? <- his train of thought.

• Really into you just piling scar and scratch and mark upon mark on his body, thinks it's really sensual to be a walking testament of the things you do to him ;_;

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

We can see their full bodies a bit more clearly in this one! The way Ran is the only one kind of able to touch the floor though

[innerfare]

I Love You - Part 1

Summary: Who says I love you first? How do you say it?

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: He showed it first, asking you to join his crew, making sure you had a safe and healthy place to be yourself, fighting anyone who stands between you and your dreams, saving his funniest jokes until you're around to hear and giggle at them, even going so far as to share a little (really, only a little) bit of his meal with you, but you were the only who actually said it first. He gets severely injured after a nasty fight, and you stay by his side while he sleeps it off like he normally does, though it takes him longer than usual to wake up. When he does finally wake up looking for you and something to eat, you fling yourself on him and tell him how much you love him. You didn’t intend on confessing, but you were so worried about him and the words fell from your lips as soon as you knew he was okay. Your brows are still furrowed, and when Luffy asks why, you voice your insecurity that he doesn't feel the same way. Luffy just laughs at that and ruffles your hair. “Of course I do.” With that, he crawls out of bed in search of food. He quickly falls into the habit of telling you in the morning when you wake up, and it fills you with so much joy, it’s like he’s giving you a happy vitamin to start your day. And saying those words bring him so much joy that saying them is like he's taking a happy vitamin, too.

Zoro: To your surprise, it was Zoro who said it first. Though Zoro seems the type to bottle up his emotions, he’s actually not, he just doesn’t seem emotional because he’s really good at dealing with his shit. And he knows all too well how temporary arrangements can be, how quickly life can be snuffed out, how easily the people he loves and cares about can be taken away from him. So one late night when he’s alone in the shower, washing his hair (using Nami's expensive shampoo and conditioner because she left it in the shower and Zoro just uses whatever's within his reach) and thinking about you, he realizes how he feels, and he doesn’t even consider not telling you. He climbs into bed afterward in just his boxer briefs, his hair still damp and smelling extra good, shakes you awake, kisses you a few times, and mutters that he loves you in your ear before passing out, not even waiting for you to say it back. He doesn’t say it often after that because he doesn’t thinks actions matter more than words, but he always says it when one of you is injured or after an argument. 

Sanji: Sanji technically confesses first, but you’re the one who actually says those three words. He’s holding your hand in both of his, clutching it close to his racing heart, as he looks down at you, telling you all the ways you make his life better, all the things he’s looking forward to doing with you, all the energy he’s going to put into keeping you happy, healthy, and safe. And the words just sort of fall from your lips. He stops mid sentence, eyes wide and mouth open. The seconds drag on in silence before he’s pulling your lips to his. Both of you are very generous with these three words, saying them often and in public. If you ever hang up the transponder snail without telling him you love him, he’s calling you right back to make sure everything is alright. (Also, not really relevant, might do a separate post about this, but Sanji is definitely a heart-shaped jewelry sort of guy. He just is. Certified lover boy.) 

Ace: Your first, more implicit confession came one night before you two were ever in a relationship. You noticed he was a little off and saw him slip away from the crew as they were drinking the night away. You found him sulking by the water and sensed he was hurting, especially when you asked to say and he told you he’d rather be alone. Before you leave, you tell him, “I just wanted you to know that I’m happy you’re alive.” You had no idea that it would strike a nerve, just got the feeling he needed to hear it, and this was confirmed by him grabbing you by the wrist as you walk away and pulling you into his arms. You continue finding implicit ways to tell him you love him such as, “I think the world is a better place with you in it,” and, “I’m so glad you were born,” and Ace is never really sure how to respond, but he soaks your words up like they’re sunlight and he’s a plant. This culminates in him blurting those three words out one day when you’re sitting in a tree together, Ace avoiding your eyes for fear you’ll reject him. When you lean in and kiss his cheek, instead, he almost cries (and he does when he’s alone later on, your love the purest thing he’s ever known). 

Sabo: Sabo is always taking risks. He lives a dangerous lifestyle as the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, and on top of being one of the most wanted criminals in the world, he is an incredibly reckless individual who thrives when his life his threatened. He does not, however, thrive when your life is threatened. So accustomed to being the one others are fretting over, so used to Koala telling him off for taking this risk or making that dumb decision, he is completely blindsided by the anxiety he experiences when he finds out you’ve been captured. Naturally he launches a rescue attempt, and when it succeeds, he wraps you in his arms and tells you how much he loves you. He always makes sure to say it after that, telling you in the morning when you wake up and at night when you go to bed together, the memory of not having you there to hear it all too fresh. 

Law: Law is pretty bad with words, and, for lack of a better term, he sort of lacks a bedside manner. Needless to say, this carries over into other aspects of his life, including his love life (or lack thereof; Law has little to no experience in this arena). One afternoon, though, the two of you are fighting because you want to accompany Law somewhere and he insists it’s too dangerous despite all of your qualifications and skills as a fighter. You keep pressing and pressing, demanding to know why he won’t let you go when you are perfectly capable, until finally he blurts it out. “I love you! Alright? And I won’t lose you.” You aren’t even in any sort of relationship at that point, the two of you just sort of stewing in unresolved tension. His irate confession is the tipping point, and you become an item after that. When you hear it from him after that, it’s always in private, usually in the late hours of the night when he slips into bed and buries his face in your neck. Other times, it’s when you two pass each other in the hallway aboard the Polar Tang and he catches your hand in his, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles, muttering the words, and moving along quickly for fear someone might see despite the entire crew knowing about your relationship. 

Kid: You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[supernatural-bias]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 16

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 16:

Jason carefully kept his writing legible as he wrote down the heating instructions. Considering Ghost seemed to be living off granola bars he was not taking any chances. 

There were signs Ghost had returned a few times. The bag and calibrator was gone of course, and the sandwiches were disappearing. It wasn’t good enough. Ghost needed more than sandwiches, it was better than living solely on granola bars, but it was not enough. He needed something more energy dense - hence the meat and vegetable stew and the mashed potatoes he’d made, packed in portions for easy reheating. But he had to make sure it was easy, he didn’t want to risk it being too bothersome and him not eating any. 

Slowly, deliberately he put the pen down so he didn’t break it and laid his hands down flat on the kitchen island. Jason was in control, not the pits. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting the seconds… 

…seven… eight…

Carefully he pushed the voice away that insisted he just lay a trap instead of all this tip-toeing around. It would be all too easy, Tim had found out how to short-circuit his powers. It hadn’t lasted more than an hour or two, but really there was no reason they couldn’t just attach some sort of device to him and repeat the small EMP charge every hour - it would be easy.

It would be horrible.

It was not how Jason wanted to go about it. Fucking Pits. Fucking intrusive thoughts. He hung his head taking deep breaths. He just wanted a little bit of peace of mind, was that too much to ask?

A half-choked gasp sounded behind him and he spun around wide-eyed. There, across the living room section of the open plan apartment was Ghost halfway through the far wall. His eyes were wide and looked as shocked as Jason felt. 

Jason didn’t dare breathe as he slowly raised his empty hands. One wrong move and he could ruin everything. He swallowed dryly and ever so slowly he stepped to the side around the kitchen island and backwards, away from Ghost, deeper into the kitchen, cornering himself, leaving all exits free - even if Ghost didn’t technically need any. Ghost followed his movements warily only moving his head, his body completely frozen, still only halfway through the wall. 

Jason’s back hit the cupboards. It was as far as he could remove himself. It was all he could do. The ball was in Ghost’s court. 

Please don’t run.

Jason didn’t think he could handle that one more time. 

Oo o oO

Danny kept his eyes locked on the currently helmet-less not ghost. His heart rabbited in his chest and his whole body felt coiled like a spring, torn between running or going forward. He was terrified, but he also yearned-

Danny had become complacent. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he cursed himself for it now. He’d just moved thoughtlessly through the wall and his ghost sense had only had time to warn him when his eyes could do just as well. The barely there mist had fizzled uselessly out of his mouth when he gasped. 

Helmet moved carefully away from Danny, as far away as he could in the kitchen. His hands were raised as if in surrender. He looked as harmless as a six foot tank could, which to be fair, it wasn’t the size of the man, that scared Danny. No, it was the fact that his entire body screamed trap. Danny was not keen on a repeat of his powers being gone, and the risk, the knowledge of it, it threatened to tear apart his painstakingly assembled composure. 

Red Helmet might have taken him away from the other vigilantes, but he was still one of them. Danny just could not let himself trust him and it hurt, deeper than his still fucked up ribs. It hurt just to keep his core in a chokehold to stop it from calling to him. Never mind the near irresistable longing; Danny wanted so badly to go to him. 

Danny couldn’t let himself. 

Yet it was Helmet, not Danny, cornered right now. Caught in the act of something at the kitchen island. There was a small piece of paper on the island and Danny was curious. 

And there were also still so many unanswered questions. How could he hear Danny but not respond? What was that thing about the anger he’d mentioned? Why had he given Danny back his backpack and the spectral calibrator? The calibrator in particular, because that one strictly speaking didn’t belong to Danny. Why was he stocking up food in an apartment he clearly didn’t live in? For Danny?

All were questions he couldn’t get answers to by running away. 

Danny just had to keep his instincts on a tight leash. 

Watching warily for any sudden movements, Danny slowly phased the rest of the way into the apartment. His beat up sneakers barely made a sound as he touched down on the wooden floors, but still Danny flinched. 

Their eyes met and both held their breath.

Helmet looked away first. In fact he pointedly looked anywhere but at Danny now, seemed very intent on studying the counter now picking at non-existent dirt. 

Somehow him not looking made it easier to walk closer and he carefully did. There was a whole kitchen island between them - that had to be enough for Danny’s paranoia. 

He now stood where Helmet had stood when he came through the wall, he could pick up the paper. 

It was heating instructions - for him.

His resolve crumbled and the paper crinkled as he clutched it like his life depended on it. Such a little detail. Not just the food left here, but instructions. When was the last time anyone had cared like this?

“Why-” His voice broke and tears prickled at his eyes. He cleared his throat and swallowed before trying again. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked from Danny to the note in his hand, seemed to mentally discard something, before admitting quietly, “I know what starving is like.” 

Danny balked. “I eat.”

“I took a backpack full of protein bars off you.”

Danny grimaced. Just eating the sandwiches left for him here had been a vast improvement. So what if he didn’t eat well, he ate enough to survive. The fact that Danny could cling to existence through force of will was something he didn’t want to examine - his human half was still alive that had to be what mattered. 

“So this anger thing,” Danny forcefully changed the subject like a bull bursting into a China shop, “tell me about it.”

Helmet tensed and that in turn made Danny tense. He might have overstepped. The moment was long and drawn out as Danny waited for the other shoe to drop. Slowly, Helmet let out a long sigh and forcefully relaxed his body. It didn’t put Danny entirely at ease, but it helped.

“There’s not much to tell,” he faked at nonchalance but there was something tightly leashed in his voice. 

Danny didn’t buy it for one second. “Try again.”

There was a grimace and it looked almost like there was some sort of internal fight going on, until eventually he spoke. 

“I got exposed to some nasty shit, ever since then I’ve had anger issues. I only realized once they were gone how pervasive they were.”

He looked away.

“I have hurt people - killed people - I thought they deserved it, but I’m not so sure anymore, not for all of them.” And there was pain there, in his voice, in his face, this was a hard thing to admit, not just to himself, but out loud to someone else. 

Danny’s heart ached for him. The silence stretched between them and Danny prompted gently, hesitantly, because he didn’t understand this part himself: “And I make it better?”

“For about two days, give or take.” There was an affected casualness in the tone, but Danny noticed the way his hands clenched into tight fists. It had been about two weeks since Danny had last been in a room with the man. Two weeks since Danny had had any physical contact. He harshly clamped down the projection of longing before it could escape his grasp. 

It was, Danny realized, no wonder that Helmet had chased him so vehemently. He could not only hear Danny’s call for him, but he had something of his own he struggled with. Something that Danny could apparently do something about, or rather his core song, if Danny was putting the pieces together right.  

But Helmet wasn’t chasing now. It must have been two torturous weeks.

“You have found a way to nullify my powers, why not just use that?”

Helmet’s jaw clenched. “It’s not exactly nice.”

“Didn’t stop you two weeks ago.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” He snarled taking a step forward eyes glowing ectoplasmic green.

Danny took a step back at once cautious and intrigued. Not a ghost, but definitely something. 

It looked like it took great effort, but he stepped back, plastered himself back against the cupboard and his eyes were blue again. Softly, he whispered “I only ever wanted answers.”

He wanted help. Danny’s breath caught. He was asking Danny for help, even if it wasn’t in those specific words. Danny looked down at the handwritten note in his hand. Helmet hadn’t planned for meeting today. He’d been just as shocked as Danny. He’d written him instructions with no guarantee Danny would ever help him, despite struggling with this anger. 

Danny did not owe him anything, Danny was not beholden to anyone in this dimension, but he was asking for help.

Danny hesitantly stepped around the counter. 

Mentally he countered each argument for why this was stupid. 

He took a step forward. There was no trap. Danny chose to believe him when he said he didn’t want to use whatever device that had been on him. 

Danny took another step forward, and step after step until he was right in front of him. Danny didn’t look up to see whatever expression may be on his face, it was easier like this standing face to chest. And it was a nice chest, wearing a red henley worn soft and fuzzy through countless washes. It was easy to take the last step into his space and lean his forehead forward to rest against him. 

It was harder to let go of the tight ball he’d pulled his emotions into. 

“Can I?” Helmet asked, arms hovering slightly away from him. 

“Yeah,” Danny replied hoarsely, and then arms settled around him hesitantly, warm, human - not tight or trapping him, it was considerate but not what Danny needed. A wounded sound left his chest and he pressed closer. He clenched his eyes shut but still tears ran wet tracks down his cheeks as he finally gave in - let go. 

His core was a cacophony of grief warring with happiness. Melancholy and joy twisting and churning neither one really winning. Danny was so tired and worn he couldn’t focus on what he should feel. All this and maybe he couldn’t even help him? 

If he couldn’t get the happiness going what use was he?

But then the arms tightened around him and it was a proper hug. He was being held. There was a hand in his hair tugging him into the crook of Helmet’s neck, as he bent slightly over to surround him. Danny’s forehead against the crook of his neck, skin again skin. A warm body. A fast heartbeat in his ears. 

He was not alone. 

His core thrummed with the knowledge. 

Danny lost time. 

It was terrifying. It could have five minutes or an hour that they stood there for all Danny knew. He had been so lost in the warmth of human contact and the content song of his core. 

A shiver of fear went up his spine and he tensed.

Last time he had fallen asleep. That, he could at least understand. He’d been extremely exhausted after everything that happened. But this was different. Danny didn’t even know if he would have noticed Helmet moving him - he hadn’t; they still stood in the exact same spot. 

He made to draw away and for one heart-stopping fraction of a second, Danny thought Helmet wouldn’t let him go. But that was uncharitable, he had to give Helmet time to even realize what he was doing. Just cause Danny’s brain was running a mile a minute, and a second seemed like an eternity, didn’t mean it was to anyone else - and Helmet did let him slide out of his arms. Danny looked up, eyes just a bit wide. He was trying to stay calm, he was. He didn’t know how to interpret Helmet’s expression. His eyes met Danny’s, his brows were doing something, his mouth was a line downturned at the corners. His arms were raised, drawn back just slightly after Danny slipped away.

Danny took another step back.

Helmet didn’t move. Danny realized suddenly what the expression was; he looked sad.

Danny’s core pulsed painfully, and his breath stuttered. He wanted to go back to that embrace, he wanted to stay and forget everything else. 

It was all he could do not to run, because those feelings were terrifying in and of themselves. He turned and he carefully walked to the far wall. He stopped there, clenched his trembling hands. His eyes trailed an uneven line on the white wallpaper. 

This wasn’t just about him.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said, loud enough he was sure Helmet could hear him. Then he couldn’t hold back anymore and he threw himself through the wall. His heart raced in his chest all the way back to his lair. 

It went against every cautious bone in his body to reveal he’d be somewhere at a specific time, even such a vague promise as the day after tomorrow. It was as much as he could get himself to do.

It wasn’t just about him. 

-

Alright and that's probably it for the rapid updates, this part mostly needed edits to fit better with what actually ended up happening in the earlier parts and I hadn't written the ending, I wasn't sure I'd get the time today, but I did so, tadaa!

Things are going better! It's not all misery anymore.

Danny wasn't quite this terrified early in the story, but then he felt relatively safe in his ability to get out of situations. Having his powers knocked out, really brought up a boatload of trauma. It's just also really making him out of sorts to be that at odds with his core.

I hope it makes sense.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part iii. )

ଓ.° ・ cyno ･ alhaitham ･ tighnari. genshin impact. repost. ・ ・ ・ pt i. pt ii.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ cyno

the role cyno plays is a heavy one : judgement & justice hand in hand in an act of righteousness as he deems another to fate. how quick it is for one's wrongdoings to meld into something deeper, deserved, and decayed into a sin they will learn to shoulder for the rest of a lifetime. you hold back a sigh, brows furrowed only the slightest bit in suppressed concern as you discard sanguine drenched gauze. you almost forget the danger that lurks in the shadows, expression growing grim as the seconds pass. cyno notices, smiles ever so faintly as he calls your name in gentle tones and meets your gaze.

"i guess someone--" he pauses, dramatic, and perhaps the final straw in your relationship lies in the moment he pulls a genius invokation card from behind his ear, "decked me."

you stare at him, deadpan. he stares back, also deadpan. this is far too unsettling.

"oh yeah? got decked in your bleeding knee, huh?"

"oh. well, you see-- i actually scraped my knee--"

"falling for me?"

cyno pauses again, clears his throat so incredibly loudly you wonder if it hurt doing so. you roll your eyes, don't bother to even hide the way your lips curl in amusement as you pinch his cheeks. his words of protest die down when you kiss him on the nose and you almost think you will hear them again with the way he frowns once you pull away from him.

"i don't love you, dearest general."

"okay, well that actually hurts to hear."

you laugh, feel his arms wrap around your waist as he looks at you expectantly. you press a kiss to his temple, see the way his countenance lightens at your affection.

"kidding, kidding. i do. i'm glad you're okay."

❀ ﾟ. ༄ alhaitham

you almost wonder if alhaitham is human -- a silly thing to ponder, truthfully, but you do not think you've yet encountered someone who seeks logic in all things and seldom succumbs to feelings and instinct. & it's unfortunate, almost -- to feel anything remotely close to love for someone who does not know the heaviness of it.

there is a strange feeling that brews in your chest : a nervousness, a knowing anxiety, and so you clench your jaw in frustration, place your focus elsewhere as to seek haven in denial of such foolishness. you wrap the bandages around his hands, try to ignore the foreign and comforting tenderness that sends shivers down your spine every time your fingertips brush.

"you are worried."

his voice cuts through steel air, forces you to freeze in your movements. you swallow hard, look him in the eye. you wish you could understand. you wish you could read him, know what lies in a dormant heart. but you don't. you don't, and it doesn't mean anything, not really, but somehow, it hurts anyway and you think you hate that the most.

"i'm not." you tell him, ignore the way he raises a brow at the short response. "it's a few scratches on your hands, nothing major. i'm only doing this out of courtesy."

"that's not what i'm talking about." alhaitham studies you further, makes you feel too seen and understood without a single explanation. you think to resume wrapping the bandages once again, but he grabs your hands, prevents you from moving away. you still, hold your breath, feel the way his hold tightens if only by a slight amount as if testing the waters.

"enough tending to me." he leans forward, closes the distance that separates you. "tell me what's on your mind."

❀ ﾟ. ༄ tighnari

"so... did you know that plant was alive?"

you imagined this would happen one day, given the nature of the forest watcher. a peaceful day turned to chaos, a leisurely exploration turned to a rather stressful yet memorable lesson. tighnari winces as you rub the ointment into his skin, red and pink patches adorning his body. he throws you a strange look, almost finds himself distracted from the pain at your words.

"all plants are alive, technically."

you sigh.

"remember when you ate that mushroom and didn't sleep for three days?"

how was he supposed to know that plant was particularly carnivorous? there's a trial and error with these things-- a system of sorts. not that he has the most optimal methods of research and learning, but he gets things done at the very least, so who can complain?

( him, probably. he is truly suffering right now. who knew plants had such sharp teeth? )

"for research. someone has to learn these things." he stares at the ceiling, entirely absentminded, until a flicker of seriousness graces his expression. "this was also for research, too, by the way. in case you were wondering."

"i wasn't."

"you are now."

"i was wondering about something i already know the answer to?"

"yes. your quiz will be tomorrow morning, pass or fail. i expect only the best results."

you scoff in disbelief, but the grin on your face betrays your seemingly annoyed visage. a quiet fills the air as you continue to attend to the numerous rashes, touch gentle as not to irritate them further.

"thank you for your help." tighnari's voice is softer now; you would have completely overlooked it had it not been for the blush on his cheeks.

you nod, silent, offer a timid smile as you press your lips against his for only a moment.

"i lied. that was your quiz. you pass."

"stop ruining the moment, tighnari."

[vivwritesfics]

Behind Closed Doors

She's sleeping with her favourite university professor, and she thinks she's the only one. Spoiler, she's not.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, technical cheating but not rly, angst-ish, age gap, power imbalance

Viv's AUgust Event

The sheets fell away from his body as she threw her leg over him and climbed into his lap. Fernando looked up at her, hands coming to rest on her waist. "What are you doing, cariño?" He asked as his hands settled on her hips.

Her only answer was to lean forward and press delicate kisses to the skin of his neck. Fernando hummed as he let her work. He'd let her get away with this for a little bit, until she pushed it too far.

And then it was his turn.

"Don't you have class this morning, pequeña paloma?" He asked as she kissed down his chest, nimble fingers travelling towards his bare cock.

She hummed. "I do," she answered. "Your class."

He grabbed her and flipped their position, pinning her beneath him. "We should make this quick, then."

He kissed her with fervour, hips rolling against her own. It was enough to create friction, enough to have her whining against him. "Fernando," she gasped as she tugged at his dark hair.

He chuckled and pulled her leg up around his (slutty man) waist. She wrapped her legs around him and Fernando pushed himself inside of her.

Her breath caught in her throat. Tugging on his hair, she pulled him down until his lips were against her own. His hips moved against her own, rolling, pushing his cock inside of her.

Fernando swallowed every sweet little noise that left her lips. He tightened his grip on her and began kissing down her neck. His grunts were music in her ear.

His hand travelled down to toy with her, to move things along. Fernando was hyperaware of the time as he moved his hips quicker. He was so damn close, needed to feel her clench around him.

Her legs shook as she came around him, back arching into his chest. Fernando's head dropped onto her shoulder as he gave one last thrust, stilling inside of her. "Fuck," he grunted as he pulled out of her.

He grabbed his watch from his bedside table and checked the time. "Quickly now," he said as he pulled her up from the bed. "You have class soon."

She rolled her eyes as he threw her skirt at her.

***

She shouldn't have thought she was the only one. But she did, she thought she was the only one that had the attention of her favourite professor.

She should have known better.

Professor Alonso gave her as much attention as he gave everybody else in the room. It kept the illusion that they were just a professor and his student. Nobody knew she had been back to his house, between her sheets.

After the lecture, she gathered up her things and headed to get something to eat. It wasn't often that she had lunch in her professors office, and normally it was Fernando that suggested it.

She didn't knock on his office door as she walked in. What would have happened if she had knocked?

She walked into the office. It should have been locked. God, she wished it had been locked. There was her fellow student, the girl she sat beside in the lecture hall, in her professors lap. The other student pulled away from Fernando, cheeks blazing as she looked at her.

Tears gathered as she turned on her heel and ran out of the room. Fernando didn't call after her, didn't do anything to stop her from running. He just didn't care.

[voxslays]

Making Caramel Apples Alastor x Reader

(Welcome to Haztober day one! I will be posting a new Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss inspired fic every day of October! I hope you enjoy! Also I know I’m technically posting this on the 30th….but it’s 7:45 for me…so…It’s literally October first. Also why isn’t tumblr schedule posting working??? So confused.)

Alastor wasn’t one to usually participate in group activities usually liking to be on his own but, maybe he’d participate this one time. He closes the book he was reading and places it down nicely. He stands from his spot, straightens his bowtie and suit and then starts to walk over to where the group activity was. Alastor walks up behind the others and watches them decorating the hotel. Of course Alastor wouldn’t participate at all if there was a possibility of getting dirty (with all the glitter glue from Charlie). So he just watched for now.

“Hi Alastor!” He heard an excited voice from behind him. Alastor turned his head to see who was speaking and saw it was you. He smiled wider and put his hands in his pockets. “Ah. It’s a pleasure to see you, My dear. What are we doing around here if you don’t mind me asking?” He tilted his head and leaned a bit more forwards towards you, curious to hear your response.

“Oh! I’m making caramel apples!” You exclaim happily. “Ahh. That’s wonderful. How are they turning out so far? Have they tasted very good or have the apples been rotten within?” Alastor chuckled to himself, amused by his own joke. He had a dark sense of humor but sometimes his words could be taken seriously. “W-what? Uhm…I don't think so…” You say worriedly, holding up one of the un-caramelized apples and checking it. He laughed and waved a hand. “I’m only joking, dear. I’m sure they’re fine.” Alastor looked down at the apples, still a little suspicious. “You haven’t been eating them have you?” He asks. “Maybe like one or two…but now I’m seriously concerned.” You say, your voice wavering with uneasiness. 

“And you didn’t get sick..?” Alastor tilted his head curiously. He still couldn’t really believe that someone had eaten a couple of the apples that he was now slightly convinced could be rotten. “I ate them like a minute ago….how long does it take for poison to kick in!?” You say, your heart racing with anxiety and paranoia. “Well, that depends on the poison I believe- Wait, did you actually EAT them!?” Alastor asks, now worried as well.

You suddenly feel dizzy, and pass out due to stress. Alastor quickly caught you. He didn’t want you falling to the ground head first and possibly waking up with a huge headache. He held you up by your shoulder and lowered his ear to your mouth, listening for a second to see if you were breathing. Once Alastor heard and felt your breathing he slowly placed you on the ground, but he made sure your head rested against his knee so you would be comfortable.

Alastor was kneeled down beside you, he had his arm holding your hand. His ears twitched and he looked down at you as you awoke again. “Are you alright, my dear?” ​​He hummed softly in thought and gave you a light squeeze of your hand before letting it go. “You just passed out a second ago. I had caught you before you fell and I didn’t want you to get a headache. How are you feeling exactly? Your head isn’t hurting too badly is it?”

“I'm fine.” You reassure him. ​​He nodded his head and looked you up and down for a moment to make sure you didn’t have any wounds that were unnoticed due to your fainting. “You don’t feel sick at all? No nausea or anything?” You shake your head. He relaxed a little more once you said that, no nausea was pretty good. That indicated you weren’t poisoned. “Well, that’s good. Would you like to sit up or something, or perhaps a glass of water-?”

“Can we make the apples together?” You interrupted. Alastor seemed taken aback by your request. He definitely didn’t expect that response from you. Alastor tilted his head questionably and then smiled. “You want to make the apples together.. with me? You actually trust me to do it with you?” He asks. “Yeah, why not?” He chuckled softly and nodded his head in agreement, he was actually really surprised at your enthusiasm and eagerness to work with him. Most of the time he didn’t get many requests to work together with him unless it involved a deal. “Alright, I suppose I’ll help make the apples with you. But no funny business, dear.” You agree and start dipping the apples in the caramel together.

​​Alastor made sure to be cautious with anything to do with food. Especially after just seeing you pass out. He was sure you just fainted from stress and anxiety, but still. He carefully dipped each apple into the caramel, making sure to coat the apple in the thick sticky caramel. ​​Alastor finished coating each apple he dipped into the caramel sauce and had placed each one on its respective plate. This was already a lot more effort that he ever put into one of Charlie’s group activities. He then wiped his gloved hands together to get rid of any caramel that got stuck to his hands. He seemed happy with the outcome of the caramel apples he and you had made together.

“I believe the task is finished…” Alastor says as he finishes cleaning up. “Well, that wasn’t too bad.” He said with a small chuckle. “It was really fun! Thank you for the help!” You say happily. The idea of doing a group activity and actually having fun was a new, almost bizarre concept to Alastor. Especially when it was just making caramel apples. He smiled wider and chuckled. “Yes, it certainly was… entertaining.” 

He looked down at the finished caramel apples and seemed quite pleased that they turned out so well. He was actually quite proud of the work you and he had done, and this was a new feeling to him when it came to group activities. ​​He then looked at you and tilted his head softly with a smile. “Perhaps we’ll do more activities together in the future, my dear.” Alastor says. “That would be fun.” You say as you pick up the tray with the apples and put them in the fridge. “I’ll see you later!” Alastor nodded as he watched you take the tray to the fridge. A part of him felt kind of warm inside which was strange. Was it from the group activity? He wasn’t sure, but it was… different and warm. He smiled a little wider watching you walk off. “I’ll see you later, my dear.” He says with content.

[myrquez]

In Motogp there’s so much money involved, performance anxiety dominates and builds up barriers. Everyone retreats into their own pack, nothing is done together anymore. And I just adapt to it, according to the theory that it’s better to be alone than to be in a group full of fake smiles. But relationships among athletes aren’t only the ones made via some direct, classic form of communication. In sport you can actually enter into communication with someone through other ways that are more mediated but, in some cases, even more profound. With Márquez, for example, we aren’t technically friends. We think highly of each other, we respect each other, we smile to each other when one sees the other one, over the past year he’s been very fair to me, often defining me as an ideal opponent. I think it’s because he knows that I can race him very hard, but always within the rules. Which is, even if for many may not seem like it, exactly the same thing he always did while racing against me. Marc may look crazy, but he actually stands out from clichés and defies physics laws in good conscience. Unlike other riders — those reckless ones with no sense of limit, who after a crash often say “I don’t know why I crashed” — Márquez knows very well why he crashes. He often precisely crashes on purpose, just to explore that limit. He does some experiments first, then goes on to elaborate his theory. In a way, he’s an empiricist exactly like my dad was, when he purposely kept taking more and more steps forward on the track to teach me how and where to brake. It’s just that in this case, it’s the rider that does it. I like Marc. And I interpreted our famous duels in 2017 as a means to get to know each other better. In Austria and Japan we indeed were extreme, but not crazy. Adventures-seekers who like to push themselves to the limit, but not insane and neither unfair to each other […] Deep down, he isn’t irresponsible, even if he often looks for some maneuvers that have no rhyme or reason. Theoretically, and practically, they don’t make any sense. Yet I never get angry about it, not even that time in Zeltweg when it looked like I told him to fuck off. It surprises me, instead, to see what he tried to do to get a win, something like “I can’t believe it”, an amazed curiosity to see how he tried to move into this uncharted territory, the same one where, thanks to him, I consequently went into as the well. And it’s so cool. As if we both dug together a whole new vein of gold: we won’t share the prize, of course, because to keep the gold is my goal, but we still dug through it together as if we were pioneers. And this indeed does create a bond, whatever is it.

And it’s even more incredible because I exactly know what Marc is going to do in that last turn in Zeltweg. Theoretically, he doesn’t have any more weapons to attack me: at this point his Honda has less traction, worn-out tyres, less power; generally speaking, Honda is less suited to this track than Ducati. And yet he got this far, in the end […] I well know that to have Marc right behind you while going through the last corner is way too much of a problem, the worst thing it could happen to you: he’s going to try it anyway anywhere. So I’ll be there, waiting for him […] Even if we’re going at 200 km/h, I can feel upon my skin how meters get marked bit by bit. One after another. I force myself to focus on his engine’s sound to understand when and where he will attack. And when the noise is there, almost unbearable, I brake hard and leave him a bit of space on the inside line, to force him to exaggerate a bit and then overtake him in acceleration. It’s almost as if I just accepted his invite, just to deceive him later. It might look like it’s just a technical challenge, or a stunt one, but it’s actually about mind games, an hand in glove tied relationship in which our minds get connected. As in bull and bullfighter kind of way. Or, in a I know that you know that I know kind of way. To get a win in this way is a much more difficult thing to achieve, but it is much more cooler as well. When Marc gets on the inside Iine I just know that I made it, because he’s a champion, but he cannot overcome the laws of psychic. My plan gets fulfilled and the dissolving noise of his bike as he goes wide resonates with liberation. That’s when I make that gesture, automatically. Fuck off, you just got played! Real subtitle is: what did you make me do, you bastard? It’s my third win this year. It’s now clear that I am the one challenging Márquez for the title. But to me this doesn’t matter. Like it doesn’t matter that much how I just won against the one who is recognized as the hand-to-hand duels master […] What matters most is that this race has been a way to get to know each other better. Márquez, with his usual Joker smile, confesses that if he hadn’t tried to surpass me he wouldn’t have slept at all that night. That’s what perfectly defines what he is: as long as he is breathing, he will try to pass you even if he had to go through a wall.

In Motegi it isn’t that different. Here, as well, Márquez is struggling a bit more than me, but I am sure he is going to try it in the last corner. Why shouldn’t he? We’ve been “beating” each other as if there was no tomorrow for the last six laps, in some apocalyptic conditions: heavy rain, curling-like grip, no visibility at all […] Ten minutes ago I wouldn’t have thought we’d get to this point, but as soon as Márquez did a little mistake I got back on track and now we’re here, us again. Ehi, Marc, how are you doing? Our connection in Zeltweg has been restored on the other side of the world. It’s now clear that everything that is going to happen now would not be possible without the other’s collaboration. Like two alpinists in a rope team, we will get ‘till the last meter together. We overtake and we get overtaken. We give and we take. We sting like bees, fly like butterflies, and more than anything we hit like blacksmiths. At Turn 10, I change my trajectory: I’ve been studying Marc for quite a lot from behind and now I imitate him, going a bit wider. This allows me to get into Turn 11 very fast, ready for my strong suit: braking. That’s how I easily overtake him. The Ducati is very stable, everything is under control. I’d be sure to get a win at that point but an alarm goes off in my mind: I won’t give it to you this easily. Exactly. Last corner is on the right. Giving my position it’s obvious that there isn’t any physical space to get on the inside, but imagine if he does really give a damn. When I’m about to lean into the Turn, Marc abruptly arrives out of nowhere as gracefully as Hulk in a china shop. It’s not even a dirty try, more like a circus number: his engine’s noise getting closer echoes into my helmet like the drum rolls that comes just before a trapeze artist jumps. Ladies and gentlemen, Marc Márquez! Where the fuck do you want to go? You’re still sitting straight, I’m already leaning: don’t you see that we’re touching? I don’t know how, but I keep the bike in control. I suspend my maneuver for a millisecond, just enough to let him slide on the outside as I go on riding through the apex. At that point he’s way too wide, he pulls half of a miracle by leaning all on the right to keep his bike on track but has no margin for anything else. Farewell, bye, goodbye. I win today. Again. After the finish line, we stop near the track side by side. Our gloves touch. Contact. Knowledge of the other has deepened. Relationship was preserved. Despite everything, no one cut the rope and we got to the mountaintop together. It’s an awesome feeling. That’s exactly the sport that I would always like. Especially because I won. On TV I eventually admit that to win against Márquez in what he does best really excites me: this is the boost that I need for the climb to the championship, at only 11 points from the lead. Marc showers me with compliments and says that it’s awesome to battle with me for the title, the living proof that professionalism and hard work pay off. He calls me a good guy as well, and I forgive him. Actually, no. Why should I be ashamed [of being a good guy]? To pretend to be a bad guy is something that everybody can do. To actually be one when it’s needed, and to do it with a certain style, it’s something for the few.

— andrea dovizioso talking about his relationship and his duels with marc márquez in asfalto (2018)

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

December 10.) Werewolf neighbor

Ok sorry about this one, it might technically be December 11 by the time I post it but it's still the 10th day. This one is actually going to be a two parter as I wrote so damn much for this one, it was actually meant to be far more longer than this but the rest will be for later. Walter is definitely going to have more stories writen about him.

Warnings: bodys pressing together, neck sniffing with no promotion, meantion of divorce, seasonal depression

Minors Don't Interact!!!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sitting on your couch you looked down at the pathetic box of christmas decorations. It was your first time spending Christmas completely alone. No family to come over, all your friends were too far away and spending the holidays with their own families. You didn’t even bother with getting a tree this year, you didn’t see the point of doing one all by yourself. 

Looking at your empty living room, void of any Christmas decorations it only served to make you sadder. “Maybe it couldn’t hurt to get a little tree?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps that’s what you needed to help cheer up your seasonal depression even for a little bit.

Throwing on a jacket and some winter boots you headed out to find a store for your impulse christmas tree purchase. You definitely weren’t planning on getting a real tree. It would be too much of a hassle getting it home alone plus you really weren’t looking forward to cleaning up pine sap and needles once it started to die. 

Making your way to the store you noticed a very familiar fuzzy shape walking on the path alone. Slowing your car down to a crawl you rolled down your window getting a much clearer view of your next door neighbor Walter the recently divorced werewolf. He was walking on the snowy sidewalk with a big flannel jacket and black jeans. The sound of your car slowing down caused his ears to perk up on high alert. Without even looking at you he sniffed the air, his tail wagged when he recognized the scent he was smelling. “Well isn’t it (Y/n)!” He said, turning his head to look at you. “Heya Walter, you need a lift? It’s pretty cold to be walking around.” You told him offering a ride, you didn’t mind pushing off shopping a little longer if it meant making sure Walter was out of the snow, nothing else at all totally not because you wanted to spend more time with your recently divorced neighbor, none at all nope. Seeing the smile he flashed you at your offer made your heart skip a beat, you blamed it on seeing his sharp teeth and not because of his smile so bright it could melt frozen butter. 

Not refusing the offer to get out of the snow Walter walked to your passenger door and got in. It was only then did you notice he was wearing booties on his paws. You wouldn’t want to be walking in the snow barefoot either. Though the sight was rather funny to see, a big bad werewolf in booties with a fur trim. 

“So where were you headed? I don’t want to take you away from where you were going too much.” Walter said not bothering to buckle up, he couldn’t buckle up in your car even if he tried. He was a little too big to sit comfortably in the passenger seat but he made it work. “Oh I was just heading to the store to see if I could find any Christmas trees for my place.” You answered honestly. In the corner of your eye you could see something moving after you spoke. Glancing his way you realized it was his tail wagging. “What a coincidence! I'm on my way to get a tree too!” He said smiling, his eyes not leaving you. As if he could pull them away, how could he when you looked so cute bundled up in that jacket. “That makes things easier then.” A chuckle left your lips as you talked causing his tail to wag again. 

Pulling into the store's parking lot you tried to find a spot closer to the front, you didn’t want to walk far in the snow. You were glad the plow trucks already came or else you would have turned around and gone home. “Want to do our shopping together? I find shopping more fun when you have someone with you.” Walter offered looking down at your shorter frame, he was just so damn tall it made you feel so small. “I don’t see why not, it makes leaving easier sense we rode here together.” Your agreement made his tail wag again, you assumed it was because he was glad he didn’t have to shop alone. 

Going in you were about to grab a cart when Walter beat you to it, stepping in front of you. “I got it, you drove me here, buying your things is the least I can do.” He said pulling out a cart, as you began to protest he held up a paw stopping you. “I insist, please.” That managed to get you to quiet down. “Alright fine, I was only going to get the tree though.” That wasn't fully true, you were looking forward to getting a shit ton of junk food and eat your feelings but you didn’t want him spending a bunch of money so you would just have to get them for your next shopping trip. Walking next to Walter you soon learned you should be walking a few steps ahead of him after you consistently got hit on the mid back by his wagging tail. It seemed almost every thing made his tail wag. A good deal on something? Tail wagging. Something he wanted was back in stock? Tail wagging again. A song he liked started playing on the store's radio? You guessed it, tail wagging. It would have been very entertaining if you weren’t in the line of fire of his wagging tail. The thing hit harder than you thought it would. You weren’t even sure he noticed he kept hitting you with it as he happily rambled on about deals going on. Seeing his cart was getting more and more filled, you started to worry a little about how much he was spending that you yourself hadn’t noticed how he kept asking if you liked certain snacks. The ones that got a positive from you went into the cart, ones you didn’t like very much went back on the shelf. Once the cart was filled to the brim with snacks, the two of you made your way away from the food area. Walter was making his way to the outdoor section for a real tree and you made a turn to the Christmas decor to get a fake tree. Noticing you weren’t next to him Walter stopped and looked around for you. Spotting you walking in a different direction he turned the cart and followed you catching up quickly thanks to his larger size. “Trees aren’t over here silly.” He said, chuckling softly. “Oh uh I was just going to get a fake one, I don’t feel like getting a real one this year.” You explained shrugging lightly as you looked up at him. “Really? Why not?” He was confused on why someone wouldn’t want a real tree. “Just doesn’t feel right getting a real tree if it’s just me, no point to it.” The effort didn’t seem worth it to you, why bother if no one was going to help with any part of itWalter’s ears flattened as his shoulders visibly dropped hearing what you had to say about getting a real tree. “Oh… there really isn’t a point for me to get a real tree this year either. Just got one every year. I didn't think about not getting one.” His voice held a sad tone as his eyes lowered to the ground, tail long stopped wagging now was tucked between his legs. 

You felt like an asshole when it hit you. This was his first christmas since his divorce, it was most likely his first christmas alone in years if not his first ever one alone. Mentally cursing yourself you raced to think of something to make this all better. “How about I spend Christmas with you? So then you can still get a real tree?” You blurted out with wide panicked eyes. Hearing that his ears perked up as he looked up at you. It was an immediate change in his demeanor, tail wagging much faster as it had been before he stood up taller. “Really? You would spend Christmas with this old fluff ball?” He asked, stepping closer to you. The closeness really putting it in your mind just how much bigger he was than you were. Gulping nervously you nodded your head, mind still reeling from your own actions. Walter swooped you up and spun you around in one fluid motion squeezing you tight. You had only seen him do this with his family before, not once had he ever with you. Stopping he looked down at you with a big smile on his face as his tail wagged a mile a minute. “Um Walter?” You spoke up after an agonizingly long moment like this. He responded with a soft hum as he leaned his snot in closer. The hot air of his breath grazed against your face sending shivers all over your body. “We’re in the middle of the store, remember?” He had seemed to have forgotten this. Lifting his head he looked around seeing there were people giving the two of you strange looks. “Whoops, got a little excited there.” Walter apologized, setting you back down on the ground. His tail hadn’t slowed down one bit. You feared he might form a tornado with how much his tail stirred up the air around him. “Well come on then, let’s go get that tree!” He said, grabbing your hand with his paw. You couldn’t help but stare at your hand intertwined with his paw. When the two of you had first met he had shaken your hand and at the time you noticed in that brief moment how soft his paw pads were. Holding his paw for much longer you really got a good feel of just how soft they were. It wasn’t just soft, no they were squishy too. You wondered if he would let you play with them some time. As your mind wondered about his soft paws your thoughts slowly grew to wonder how they would feel on other parts of your body. Catching yourself before the thoughts grew more impure as they had already gotten you shook your head trying to shoo them away. 

Walter hadn’t noticed this and you were damn glad of it. He just kept pushing the cart around with one paw as he walked much slower than he had before. You were walking slower too, it was the pace you usually had. It took you a moment longer than you would like to admit when it clicked with you that he was walking slower for your sake. Smiling softly to yourself you looked away wanting to put your focus anywhere else than Walter. Making your way into the out door section you shivered feeling an especially harsh gust of wind hit you causing you to brace yourself from the cold. It stung at your eyes making you close them tight. Expecting more wind to hit, you braced yourself again turning a little but stopped when you felt Walters paw leave your hand and wrap around you not a moment later pulling you into his side. “Look at you shivering like a chihuahua. You don’t got no way to keep you warm. Here stay close to me, I'll keep you warm.” Walter said, leaning against you. It was just so warm you couldn’t find the will to fight him on it and just accepted his embrace. Lucky for you, you were able to hide your smile by burying your face in the side of his coat, plus it kept your already freezing nose out of the snow. Walking to the trees with him Walter quietly hummed along to the song currently playing through the store's speakers. You left the tree finding to him. It seemed he knew what he was doing while you were clueless on the matter. It was obvious when he found the right tree as he excitedly moved from one paw to the other. You tried to stifle a laugh at the sight of a werewolf doing tippy tappys.  As much as you didn’t want to pull away from his warmth you knew he wouldn’t be able to drag the tree through the store while pushing the cart and also holding onto you but when you went to move away from him his grip on you tightened pulling you in closer to him. “We can still check out here right?” He called out to the one employee working gardening, they nodded their head yes. “Oh good we’ll check out here and take everything straight to the car.” Walter said, picking the tree up. “Can you come scan this for us?” He asked, holding the tree up. Walter was making things harder for himself, he should let go, why wasn’t he letting go? Looking down at you he smiled softly as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “Step onto the cart I’ll push you around, that way you can still be nice and warm.” Oh… you hadn’t thought about that, could work. Without a word you stepped up onto the cart holding onto the cart's handle bar for support. The moment you felt Walter press his chest against your back you lost every ability to breathe. You didn’t think this through. Being this close to him like this in this position? You're glad it was cold, you could blame your face being so red. 

Standing there on the cart trapped from all sides, oh boy did it make you feel things you shouldn't.

Next few minutes were a blank for you too deep in your ever growing thoughts as Walter checked out all his groceries and paid for it all. You could hear him hum again as he started walking to your car. The parking lot was quite bumpy causing the cart and you in turn to raddle like crazy. That is until Walter pressed his chest against your back stopping your shaking. His muzzle was right next to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your neck. It sent a flood of dirty thoughts into your mind, a gasp left your lips before you could stop it. You prayed to any god out there that he didn't hear it. If he had he hadn't said anything. 

What he did notice was how your scent had changed, grown more aroused. You realized something was up when he suddenly pressed his nose to your neck and took a deep breath in. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he inhaled your scent. The moment he caught himself doing that he pulled away in a jerking motion. “I um…” He stammered trying to think of an excuse. “I like your body wash. What is it? Daisys?” Walters heart was practically beating out of his chest, you could feel it against your back. “No uh sweat pea actually. Was on sale.” You answered in a quiet voice trying to possess what just happened. “Ah, sales love them.” He mumbled softly.

The rest of the ride home was completely silent. Neither of you baring to speak after that little incident. Pulling into his driveway you put your car in park and quietly gulped. The two of you sat in silence a few minutes more before Walter finally broke the silence. “Want to come in and decorate the tree with me?” He asked, looking at you through the corner of his eye gauging your reaction. Thinking about it you lightly chewed the bottom of your lip. Oh what the hell, what's the worst thing that could happen? “Sure.” Your answer made his tail wagged as he lit up with a bright smile. What could happen? You weren't sure what but you wanted it.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Initial thoughts on that article - I’m excited! I mean the journalist needs to do a bit more homework (I’m looking at you sentence about Eddie kissing Kim!) and I’m always going to take anything Tim says in an article with a giant handful of salt, but by and large all he said is telling me that the arcs for all our characters seem to be interesting and varied.

This got so very long so it’s going below the cut - but if you only want to read the buddie stuff then start reading where I’ve changed the text colour (so you can find it easily - because I’m nice like that!) 🐝🐝🐝

I love that Tim described madney and henren as being a family unit outside of the firehouse and I’m really excited to see that built upon - I loved that we got more hen and Maddie interactions last season and I want more of it. So I’m looking forward to seeing that dynamic develop as part of the Mara arc.

Ortiz hs so much potential to be a truly great villain - with a more sustained arc - something the show hasn’t ever really done and I’d like them to. Ortiz v Hen as a half season or more plotline would be so good and exploring corruption in politics and how it corrupts other public systems and services would be such a great thing to explore (and Aisha would knock it out of the park)

I’m going to say here that season 8 is very much screaming season 3 redux at me - all of the things we know thus far all seem to parallel season 3 events, even down to the bee-nado - which is starting to sound more and more like a mirror of the tsunami - in that the tsunami wave itself was only a brief thing, but the aftermath was where the major incidents and action was for all the various characters and the set up of their arcs. And Tim saying the bees set up I’m super excited for that as a concept.

Since we first saw them filming on a plane I’ve been wondering if we were going to be seen if another 70’s disaster movie homage and it seems I was right - my money is on Airport 77 being the movie in question

And I’m really interested in who it’s going to showcase and what part of her history were exploring. I would really love to see them exploring the Jeffery arc and her trauma from that, but I’m not sure that’s what we’ll be getting (Jeffery being dead doesn’t negate this exploring that part of her story I just don’t think it’s where we’re going)

My feeling is it’s connected into Emmett in some way. It was ‘resolved’ in Athena begins and then never really spoken of again, so maybe we’ll be seeing Dennis Jenkins (the guy who shot Emmett) as one of the prisoners on the plane and Athena will have to confront her remaining trauma there and possibly the damage arresting DJ has had after all that time he passed.

On to Bobby - what can I say technical consultant bobby is going to be perfection. Bobby has had some heavy arcs over the past couple of seasons so it’s pretty obvious he’s got the comic relief arc for at least 8a. I’m really looking forward to seeing Bobby being done with Hollywood etc. And I’m really excited to see how they get him back to the 118 where he belongs.

Onto the bit I know most of you are reading this for!!

The Buck arc is screaming lawsuit redux at me and that ties in nicely to Bobbys arc. Instead of Buck being stopped from returning to the 118, this time it’s Bobby. Gerrard is the Chase Matthew’s of this situation and so I remain convinced of my assertion that buck (having learnt from the lawsuit arc) is going to initially fail against Gerrard before he figures out getting close to him and therefore being able to figure out his weaknesses is the best way to get rid of him and get Bobby back.

The Buck T*mmy section in the article of it all has me laughing so very hard I nearly fell off my chair.

Look, this ‘relationship’ is still fairly new and they are still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase, so I wouldn’t be expecting Tim to start waxing lyrical about them as a couple, but saying this;

To describe the first queer relationship of one of your mains, whose entire storyline last season was his bi awakening, when it’s at the point when everything should still be new and exciting isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of said relationship.

It’s entirely possible to gush about a relationship - especially one that is essentially groundbreaking on your show - without giving any plot away or making it seem like they’re endgame.

More comfortable together is the only thing you could come up with to describe them as a couple? - what does that really mean? Comfortable is how you describe a pair of slippers or an old hoodie that’s all worn in and soft. If you’re using more comfortable as one descriptor in a longer sentence with other descriptors that shows the development of said relationship then that’s totally acceptable. But to use it as the only one (aside from saying they’re a couple), well that screams of a relationship that is a plot device.

And you know what else backs that up as a concept - Tim proceeds to use the rest of his answer to the question about Buck and T*mmy’s relationship to talk about Eddie and Eddie and Buck and their relationship. So what I’m getting is that Eddie is still at the centre of things within that relationship - just as he has been throughout the entirety of s7 - where Buck and Tommy managed to have a grand total of 3 scenes out of nearly 20 together where Eddie wasn’t either present or spoken about at length (and one of those was literally just a scene of them kissing!)

Even using the word comfortable again to describe Buck, Tommy and Eddie hanging out together (anticipating some sort of scene that echoes the karaoke bar scene - where we get petty jealous Eddie and I can’t wait!). Which means comfortable is a very intentional word choice - not one that bodes well for the longevity of the reltionship.

So what I’m getting from that. Is that ‘more comfortable together’ means boring and that Tim is using the relationship to create the same distance we saw between Buck and Eddie in season 3 during the lawsuit arc - the distance that ultimately brought them even closer together and led to Eddie changing his will.

Season 3 was when the show really established buddie as a thing - they lay the foundations in s2, but s3 was when they tested and then built the walls of that dynamic ready for the pieces to be put into place over seasons 4 & 5 so they could make buddie canon.

This BT relationship is literally being used to put Eddie in the same space he was in in s3 - isolated (thank you Ryan for that word choice!) because Buck is not available to him as much (or at all in the case of s3) so he spiralled out in his grief over Shannon’s death and joined a fight club.

All this to say that the chess pieces are being manoeuvred in a really positive direction on the buddie front and I expect to see 8a following a somewhat similar pattern as 3a did - big opening disaster which sets up the various arcs, which includes being shown buck and Eddie’s closeness initially, only to separate them off for a bit so Eddie can have his gay awakening (fight club minus the fight club) and Buck can do some more figuring out about what he actually wants of his own (lawsuit without the law suit) and then bring them back together in time for Christmas - which they will spend together with a newly returned Christopher (mirroring s3 Christmas perfectly) and the rest of the firefam.

Even the Eddie question backs up this as a theory;

I’m fully expecting to get Eddie having conversations with his parents - via call and FaceTime - but not with Chris because he still won’t talk to his dad. The choice to say everything has been stripped away from him except his job is also giving some echoes of s5 - juxtaposing when Eddie essentially had everything else except his job which lead to his breakdown. Tim is a master of deploying subterfuge whilst also using very intentional words - so this comment is making me excited. It’s (to me at least) saying that Eddie is secure in his job and there is not really going to be any drama on the job front. That in the past eddie connected his worth to whatever job he was doing (army, his three jobs in El Paso firefighter) so when the job was taken away he had no worth and that therefore meant he was a failure as a father and a husband - so he spiralled out. Now he has his job and he’s in a good place with that and knowing how his worth as a person isn’t tied into that job. Now instead he has nothing else - all the things he’d tied his worth onto away from his job are suddenly gone so he has to go back to the drawing board and this time look at himself and who he actually is and why he wants.

The choice of the word ‘hell’ is also a choice - ‘who the hell he is’ - season 7 laid the groundwork for edddies reckoning with the catholic faith (former nun Marisol, Eddie talking about being a lapsed catholic and catholic guilt and bobby giving Eddie the bible etc) and we know they’ve been filming in a church. Hell as a word choice is just backing that up and hinting at the idea that Eddie figuring out who he is and choosing living his life as his true self would damn him to hell in the eyes of his religion. So gay Eddie here we go!!

This was supposed to be a quick ‘ooh I’m excited everything is being perfectly set up’ post and then I did my usual thing and write a mammoth essay 🤣 so if you’ve read all of this - thank you and I love you and I hope you enjoyed it - can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; the Gotham Kid. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kid actually jams the warehouse doors with his TTK, then steps forward into the street. Just–there’s other exits out of the building, obviously. He wouldn’t trap them all in there. 

He just needs to be sure no one’s gonna freak out and fuck up into following him right now, is all.

Kid does find some clay. It’s smeared across the bars of a grate he passes. It’s hard to tell if it’s from Clayface dragging his injured body away into the sewers to hide or just . . . blood splatter, technically. 

Blood splatter, or . . .

Kid doesn’t feel anyone or anything Clayface’s size moving anywhere nearby, but his TTK is still acting up, so maybe . . . maybe he’s just missing him–like, not picking up on him–or maybe Clayface is just already holed up and hidden away somewhere, or . . . 

Or maybe Kid’s just fucking deluding himself. 

Kid trembles, just once, and then fists his hands and locks his TTK around his muscles, and makes himself cross the street. 

No sign of Clayface, aside from the clay on the sewer grate. No blood or body parts anywhere immediately visible or TTK-able. No bodies anywhere, at least not as far as Kid can see or feel. His TTK keeps flickering unreliably, which is–it doesn’t work great against fire or temperature or concussive force and literally all of that stuff happens in explosions and all at once, so . . . probably that’s why it’s kinda fucked-up right now, yeah. He thinks, anyway. 

The street smells like burnt rubber and motor oil and a little bit like almonds, which Clark’s memories say is a plastic explosives thing. They also provide him with a list of search pattern options to use on search-and-rescue missions, which is more, like–immediately helpful, at least in theory. 

Sector search’ll be best, probably, at least right now. He’s not going aerial, obviously, and expanding square is too– 

Something moves. Kid’s TTK is still flickering in and out and only just catches it, but–something definitely just moved. 

He doesn’t run straight towards it, whatever it is. He probably would’ve, before he figured out he was remembering Superman’s memories and lived six months in the worst parts of Gotham, but he knows better now. Rushing straight towards the problem only solves the problem in very specific situations, and “standing in the middle of a blown-up street in Crime Alley while trying to do search-and-rescue without looking like you either have superpowers or know how to do search-and-rescue” is not one of those situations. Not even remotely. 

Kid adjusts his search pattern carefully to work his way towards that hitched little flash of movement and concentrates on getting his TTK back under control enough to feel what’s ahead. Visually, he sees a couple of cars that got blown off the street crashed sideways across the mouth of a skinny alleyway. Tactilely, he feels . . . 

There’s a body in the alley behind the cars, yeah. Physically male, tall and broad and muscular; prone on its back, head lolled to one side and breathing slow and steady and careful, one arm clutched tight to its side. 

It’s Pete, and he’s alive. Injured, definitely, but–but alive. 

So that’s at least one person Kid maybe hasn’t gotten killed, depending on just how injured Pete actually is. 

Kid swallows rough and hard; clenches his fists for a moment and stiffens his shoulders; squares up like he’s trying to scare someone off. Makes himself big, like he used to try to when he was brand-new and in Metropolis and desperate for the kind of attention he didn’t know was dangerous. 

Then he just–makes as much tension as he can go out of himself and tries to just–calm himself, and center himself, and . . . 

Clark could do that a lot better than he can, no matter what he remembers about how to do it, but it’s . . . something, Kid guesses. Just–a little better, anyway. 

It’s . . . a start, yeah. 

He clambers over the cars because he’s not stupid enough to fly–hasn’t flown once since leaving Metropolis, in fact, not for anything and especially not in Gotham–and especially he’s not stupid enough to fly when he doesn’t know who might be sneaking around. The cops aren’t gonna show up for at least a couple hours, assuming they even bother showing up at all, but that doesn’t mean Crime Alley’s empty right now. If nothing else, no matter what happened to Clayface, Killer Croc is still supposed to be out here somewhere. 

Or there could always be a Bat. 

Their response times are a hell of a lot better than the cops’, around here.

[yuri-is-online]

It's Not Going Away (First Years x Yuu)

The subtle, sweet scent of flowers shakes you gently awake, but to your surprise you lack the strength to move. It's like your entire body is made of lead and your throat is filled with sand. A vague memory of telling Grim you didn't feel well before... well you thought you were just taking a nap, but there's person holding your hand who would never speak to you like this if he knew you could soon wake up.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, angst brought by denial, technically sick fic? Inspired by the op to Horimiya, which can be listened to here (x). References for flower language were taken from here and here. If you like this feel free to check out my masterlist for more fic.

Rose, Great Maiden's Blush

"Seriously, what am I going to do with you?" The voice belongs to Ace, you'd recognize him anywhere, but it's strangely strained. If you had the strength to move you would slap him, but then you would need to let go of his hand. It's warm, comforting, a bit rough from basketball and tending the roses, and fills you with happiness. Ace would probably make fun of you if he knew how badly you wanted this, take away his hand with a look of disgust and stick out his tongue. "Just kidding~" That's how your dynamic has been ever since he first asked to crash on your couch, two steps forward into something more, one leap back into the safe zone. "You know I'm not always going to be around to take care of you, yeah? One of these days you are gonna go home and leave me, whose going to look out for you then?" He lets go of your hand and you want to scream for him to stay, but feel the fever settling you back into sleep. "You'll be ok, I know that. You don't need me as much as I want you to, so-" He touches your cheek, caressing it so tenderly you want to keep him there forever but he doesn't bother to finish his thought.

But by the time you are able to wake up he's long gone, the only thing suggesting it wasn't a dream a vase full of roses he's definitely going to brush off as lame. That's assuming he brought them in the first place, you have never seen these flowers in the Heartslabyul garden. Maybe you were just being too hopeful, you think to yourself as you lean your still warm hand against your painfully beating heart.

(if you do love me you will find me out)

Rose, Tea

"Hey don't you think you might be hurting the prefect?" The person holding your hand has it in a tight grip, but it isn't uncomfortable. far from it, you feel wanted, secure in someone's appreciation. That voice belongs to Ace, you think that makes the hand your holding Deuce, but he's refusing to respond verbally and confirming your suspicions. The silence fills the room for an uncomfortably long time, even for you, you're grateful when Ace decides to break it. "Deuce-"

"We're not doing this now." His grip on you hand loosens, but he still keeps it near. You can tell Deuce's fighting to keep his cool. "They ar-"

"You're always talking about the future like they'll be there." Ace snaps, careful to dull his voice but not his point. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind laughing at you two losers forever, but have you even thought about what your future will look like if they aren't there?"

"I can't. And don't act like you don't know that already." There's movement in the room, you think Ace tries to get Deuce to leave with him but he doesn't budge. He takes your hand again as the door clicks closed, moving to cradle it in both of his with such care it's hard to believe these are the same fists you've seen busting up jaws for breaking some eggs. "I'm sorry you had to hear that." he whispers, but you're unsure if he knows your awake or if he is just speaking to fill the silence "You can go back to sleep now, I'll be here when you wake up I promise." You have no choice but to take him at his word, settling into your bed and hoping you will have the courage to face each other when you wake.

(i'll remember always)

Spider Flower

There's only ever one. For his father and mother, for his grandfather and grandmother, so long as there have been wolves in the mountains they have only ever sought out one partner for the rest of their lives. But you aren't programmed like that, you said as much when the boys started gossiping about their preferences during that whole ghost bride event. "I'd like a soulmate, I just don't think I have one." And you meant it really, you were sure Jack would meet someone like him that would be perfect for him one day. So why is there a fluffy head resting next to you? Why is a tail draped over your legs, you want to believe protectively but you can't bring yourself to open your eyes and check.

"I swear it's like I'm in love with the moon." Jack grumbles into your side. "No matter how loud I howl you can't hear me and act like I'm not on your radar at all." That's not true, he's all you can think about sometimes, you just wanted to spare his feelings since it couldn't be possible for him to love you back. "Maybe I was wrong that I didn't have to worry about winning you over..." His tail wraps up closer to your waist and you try to snuggle closer into him. He'll ask you later, maybe when you wake up or maybe even later than that, but he has to ask. You might be out of reach, but that's only if he does not try. The flowers at your bedside have a specific meaning, he made sure to ask Vil for help just this once, though if the message doesn't make it through he supposes he can ask again.

(elope with me)

Alyssum

Warmth leaves your body as the person who has been holding your hand gently lets it go, setting it on your chest as he pats it and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune. The familiar shlick of a knife through an apple sets a scene you can't open your eyes to see, for someone so hot headed, Epel seems remarkably calm right now. "I wonder if it's ok for me ta look at you like this..." or maybe he wasn't. "I mean I have seen you sleeping before when I put you under my spell, but this is a bit different. Would be nicer if it was under different circumstances..." He pauses in his carving, studying you for any sign that you could be awake and poking your cheek a few times to try and wake you, pouting when you don't immediately rise. "You know I was really happy when I found my signature spell. I wanted to protect you so badly, and for so long I was convinced I couldn't. I thought if I could just get stronger, and taller I would be able to-" There's a weight next to you on the bed now, it sounds like Epel has put his head in his hands and resolved himself to stare you down until you wake up. "But I don't think you'll be around long enough for me to reach the point I wanted to before telling you anything." You manage to stir slightly, and are rewarded with startled noises from Epel that give way to disappointed relief when you realize actually getting up is just a task too much for you right now. As if he realizes this, Epel reaches out to squeeze your hand before returning to his apples. The strange song makes its way to his lips once more, but this time he softly gives it words.

There's a note left for you alongside the flowers, telling you to drink water and that there's a bunch of apples in your fridge that you absolutely have to eat. It's some of his best work he says and you can't help but wonder if he doesn't just mean the carving.

(worth beyond beauty)

Gladioli

“I’m not quite sure when I started to see you differently, just know I feel like a fool for my prior behavior." The letters hadn't been signed, but you had an inkling who they were from. In place of a picture every third one was accompanied by the exact same flower, you thought it was cute how well Sebek thought he was covering his tracks. It would be nice if he was the one holding your hand, but that couldn't be. He was too loud, if he was here then you would know. Even his unsigned letters were loudly and proudly him, mercifully free of praise for Malleus though they were. "You shine like dew on a rose, for your praise I go to lengths that surprise myself. Some say I am foolish, most call me single minded and in your presence I cannot protest those sentiments. Given your circumstances, it would be selfish of me to ask for your patience, but I must. I must ask for your patience until I can ask you aloud." You were content to be patient with him, if you weren't you never would have been friends in the first place. The person holding your hand gives it a final squeeze, though he pulls away slowly, trying to savor every last bit of illicit contact he can.

When you are finally able to move a familiar sort of flower around your room, once again someone is trying to be romantic and failing to cover his tracks. Once again he is refusing to face you, out of fear or shame you do not know. You gently pick at the petals, trying to divine just what it is you think Sebek wants to say, not just what you want it to mean.

(i am really sincere)

[definitelynotshouting]

may i interest you in some scarian makeouts

Listen. We were all thinking it when Grian was screaming to Scar about starting resistances. Also technically this isnt even finished bc i wanted to put a proper opener on it before posting but,, i have unfortunately been too busy to sit down and write so i am throwing this into the void as is like meat pumpkins in the scarian enclosure. Mwah mwah please enjoy the food my fellow soldiers

"Scar, if you don't do something right now, I'm gonna start a resistance," Grian snaps. There's a tightness in his chest begging for release, to snap the building tension with the thunderous clap of TNT. The look he aims at Scar is nothing short of pleading, begging for some kind of intervention.

Scar, for his part, looks startled. "Um—" he stammers, eyes flicking over Grian helplessly.

Unfortunately, Grian doesn't have time for helplessness. "Scar, do something!"

"Do what?" Scar yelps in return; he's clearly out of his depth, fumbling for his bow and dropping it to the ground with a nervous clatter. "What do you— Grian, I don't even know what you want me to do here—"

"Just stop me before I do something I'm gonna regret!" Grian says desperately, and suddenly, a familiar glint flickers to life in Scar's eyes.

It's the bad idea glint. The I'm about to make this situation worse, glint. The I'm going to steal the enchanter, I'm going to run for mayor, I'm going to strip everyone's copper glint. Grian can't truly say he's surprised to see it.

But Scar only snaps his fingers. "Okay, okay, I've got it! You just— um. You— you know what, you just stay there, I'll come to you."

And before Grian can even process whatever that means, Scar is pacing forward, closing the distance between them with rapid, ground-eating strides. All thoughts of royal emeralds and resistances slide right out of Grian's head as Scar crowds into his personal space.

"Uh, Scar," Grian says, suddenly breathless for quite a few reasons, "um. Whatcha doing?"

"Distracting you!" Scar replies with far too much cheerful menace, then grabs Grian by the collar and reels him in for a kiss.

It's such an abrupt motion that Grian flinches before they can make contact, an electric shock running up his spine. But Scar chases that distance like a hunting hound, both hands coming up to frame Grian's face and hold him still— and then his lips are catching against Grian's, wind-chapped and gentle. Insistent. A warm, solid slide against his own, languidly coaxing them open. 

Another thrill of electricity runs through him, and after a moment's hesitation, Grian leans into it, eyes sliding shut as Scar's teeth catch briefly on his bottom lip. He's already fumbling for purchase— his hands flutter, trailing over Scar's arms before climbing to his shoulders, wreathing into his hair, and—

Grian tugs, just a bit too mean, and Scar's shocked hiss falls directly between Grian's teeth. If Scar wants to turn this into a distraction, he'll play along— but Grian's not going to make it easy for him.

"Oh, you are gonna get it for that, mister," Scar murmurs against his mouth, muffled and low, sweet as buckwheat honey. Grian shudders; every point of contact between them is kindling into a fire, spreading light and heat through his veins. He's swimming in it, crystalizing from the inside out, nothing but an empty, weightless cloud inside his mind. Scar's hands slide from his jaw to thread in his hair, and without warning, his head is gently tilted to the side.

Grian sucks in a sharp breath as Scar leans down and folds a delicate kiss into the triangle of skin between his jaw and ear. When he pulls back, the ghost of a breath fans cool air across it, wringing another shiver out of Grian's spine.

Scar leans down again; this time the kiss he presses to Grian's neck is not delicate. Instead, it's borders on a bite, nipping at sensitive skin until it begins to redden. Scar drags his tongue flat against what's no doubt a blossoming bruise, and Grian exhales in soft, trembling huffs that paint the air around them. Eyes closed, lips parted, a hazy glow curling beneath his sternum: Scar peppers his neck in kisses and bites, none quite as hard as the first, but intense nonetheless.

Finally, Scar dips to press one last, chaste kiss against his neck before pulling back and catching his lips once more. It's a faster slide this time, more demanding; Grian melts into it, curling his hands further into Scar's hair, cupping the back of his head to pull him closer. Scar's body is one warm line against him, an arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him close, even closer than they'd already been before. If this is drowning, Grian thinks, then he'll gladly welcome the floodwaters. If kissing Scar makes him this deliriously lightheaded, Grian will drown as many times as he's allowed.

Eventually, the pace slows. Scar swipes a thumb against his cheek, breaking the kiss only to dive back in for another, shorter one. And again. Again. Grian hums absently, a tuneless, crackling note that catches in his throat as the kisses between them taper off into gentle pecks, a closeness neither of them want to fracture.

It ends with both of their foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, lips red and kiss-swollen. Grian licks his absently; they tingle, gently bruised, and the noise that trickles out of his throat without permission sounds wrecked.

"Good distraction?" Scar mutters absently. The hand around his waist has abandoned its post in favour of stroking Grian's hair. It's a soothing, lulling motion, and Grian fights the hypnotic rhythm of it.

"Distraction?" he manages to rasp after a moment.

A beat. Then Scar giggles, a bright, soap-bubble sound that floats in the sunshine around them. "Well, that sounds like a pretty good review of the Goodtimes Distraction Services to me," he says, and pulls away with visible reluctance. His eyes crinkle at the corners; he looks fond. "You need anymore resisting against resistances, you know where to find me."

Grian lets him go with a shiver and a dirty look for the cool air that rushes in between them. Despite the chill, though, he feels warmed through. "Yeah," he says, lifting one hand to touch the mark high on his neck. It throbs; he presses down just to feel it. "Yeah, I guess I do. Tha— is it weird to say thanks, Scar?"

"Only if you don't buy me dinner on the first date," Scar replies breezily, and Grian chokes on a laugh.

"I'll write that down," he says dryly, and joins Scar as he meanders back toward Scarland's Main Street, all thoughts of resisting far behind him.

[imdedinsidex-x]

Working on a Hazbin rewrite that I’m dubbing The Bed and Betterment Project. Some info about everything so far under the cut!

-Charlie is a lot more menacing in this AU, as I imagine her personality is a lot more like Michael from The Good Place. She’s still fairly cheery and seems kind, but she’s willing to remind others of who she is.

-Charlie started the Bed and Betterment Project as a way to see how far sinners could go to get better and improve, or if that’s even possible. This was mostly just something for her own entertainment, but as she gets used to the members of the project she comes to see that maybe they can actually improve, and thus she changes her sights towards redemption and she becomes a bit more optimistic as the show goes on

-Charlie has very unorthodox ways of trying to get the members of the project to rehabilitate by tempting them with their worse vices and making them relieve traumatic events, hoping it’ll push them forward (or perhaps over the edge.)

-Vaggie’s identity as an exorcist is already known by the denizens of hell, as well as by Charlie. In fact Charlie uses that to her advantage, Vaggie taking in the position of the ultimate bodyguard. Her character arc would be largely focused on her becoming her own person, gaining her own hobbies, and loving herself.

-All the exorcist wear mask that cover their true heavenly features, as do Charlie and Lucifer. Adam is the only one who doesn’t really need a mask, but he prefers to wear it.

-Speaking of Adam, he is much more intimidating in this AU, being a bit more serious but still coming off as affable and laidback, maybe even a little dumb. But despite his hedonistic tendencies, he still is a force to be reckoned with and can be quite threatening when he wants to be.

-Husk doesn’t have wings anymore. I believe they served no purpose, and instead he is slinky! His limbs and neck can extend to incredible lengths, as a reference to his looseness. And while he doesn’t immediately look like a magician like he did in his previous design, he can still do plenty of magical things in a similar fashion to the Cheshire Cat, being able to disappear and reappear really wherever, but he hardly utilizes this ability anymore.

-Alastor I figured could do with a neat little makeover, both in his casual appearance and in his demon form. I’ve gotten rid of his weird technical stuff and have decided they are instead crooked and sharp antlers he can spawn from wherever. Just as well he can control various radio signals and even create static sound or high frequency screams from his jaws, very much inspired by an elk’s cry.

-I’ve also changed Alastor’s backstory, but that’s something for a different piece.

-Wanted to lean into the blaxploitation inspiration of Valentino, as well as find a good balance of conventionally attractive and gross. I imagine whenever he’s about to say or do something particularly nasty, he pukes up maggots before hand to show off his vile nature.

-Not featured here, but I have ideas for Vox and the seraphims as well, but I’ll save that for another sketch page.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

A Love Tailored to You

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4

Warning: This event story contains NSFW themes. Minors please do not interact.

Kagari: "Then this should be acceptable, right?"

As he said that, Kagari closed the distance again, intertwining his arm with mine while readjusting our joined hands.

Kagari: "I’m not hugging you. I’m just holding your hand."

(Well, you could argue that we’re linking arms, but technically, we ARE holding hands, so I guess it’s fine?)

Kagari: "Do you dislike holding hands like this? I actually quite like it."

Kagari: "When I’m with you, I want to touch you as much as I can and be as close as possible."

(When you say something so serious like that, there’s really only one thing I can say in response.)

Emma: "I like it too… for the same reasons."

Kagari: "I know. You’re shy, but deep down, you love physical affection."

Emma: "Y-you’re one to talk! You’re reckless, yet clingy and overly affectionate yourself!"

Kagari: "Exactly. That’s why you need to get used to it with this training."

Kagari: "If your heart keeps racing like this every day, your body won’t be able to handle it."

Like a cat seeking affection, Kagari nuzzled his head against mine, gripping my hand tighter over and over again.

(He doesn’t show his emotions on his face much, but he expresses his love through actions like this… it’s unbearably cute.)

Even after that, he never let go of my hand—or my arm—and the first day of training passed with me still incredibly nervous. Despite that, I couldn’t stop smiling the whole day.

.....

The "holding hands only" phase continued for several days. Then, a new type of training began.

Kagari: "Shigure, today’s training is a mock battle. I’ll leave the team assignments to you."

Shigure: "Are you participating too, Kagari?"

Kagari: "I’ll referee again. If I join, the opposing team would lose for sure."

Shigure: "Then why not make it you versus all your subordinates?"

Kagari: "Hm? Do you think you all could win?"

Shigure: "Right, okay, okay! My bad for being weak!"

Kagari: "Admitting your weakness is the first step to becoming stronger. Keep at it."

Shigure: "Ugh, I can’t with this guy anymore..."

Shigure: "Emma, if there’s you don’t like something, you should really say so too.”

Kagari: "This is something the Princess wanted. She doesn’t dislike it one bit."

Kagari: "Right, Princess?"

(…!)

The strong arm wrapped around my waist tightened, and my face grew even hotter.

Underneath the cherry blossoms, I was sitting between Kagari’s legs, being embraced from behind.

(Sure, we decided today would be for hugs, but…)

Emma: "Even so, I don’t think we need to do this in such a… public place where so many people pass by."

(Even Shigure looks exasperated… Ugh, I wish I could just pass out and escape this embarrassment.)

Kagari: "If other people’s gazes bother you, then just focus on me."

Kagari: "If the sound of footsteps or voices annoys you, I’ll cover your ears. Problem solved."

Emma: "That’s not the issue here…! Shigure, can you please say something—"

(Wait, where is he…?! He ran away?!)

Shigure apparently didn’t want to get dragged into the situation either, leaving me alone with Kagari again.

Kagari: "Your body is so warm and comforting, Princess."

(Ack, he’s hugging me even tighter—my heart feels like it’s about to explode…)

(Still, compared to the first hug of the day, my heart isn’t racing as much. I guess there’s progress… I hope.)

Suddenly, Kagari rested his head on my shoulder.

(He seems so relaxed…)

As I gazed at his handsome face up close, I was so mesmerized that I forgot to breathe—

(…!)

Our eyes met, and I quickly averted my gaze forward in a panic.

Kagari: "Princess, princess, if you're going to look at me, do it when my eyes are open."

Emma: "…So you noticed."

Kagari: "I can sense your gaze no matter how far away you are, even with my eyes closed."

(I don’t know whether to feel happy or embarrassed…)

Emma: "Ah…!"

He blew softly against my ear, making me instinctively pull away from him.

But somehow, his emerald eyes seemed even closer than before.

Kagari: "Mmph… Pwincess, your hwand… is in the way."

In a panic, I quickly placed my hand over his mouth to stop him.

Emma: "Today was supposed to be just about hugging, wasn’t it?"

Kagari: "…Yes, that’s right."

Despite his words, Kagari pulled me back into his arms and, instead of kissing me, gently nipped at my neck repeatedly.

Emma: "Y-you said it would just be hugs…!"

Kagari: "Did you know that when your cat nibbles you, it’s a signal that it wants attention?"

Emma: "Please… just use words to tell me these things!"

(Love bites go beyond hugging… and now the places he bit feel so warm.)

When I stroked his head, Kagari narrowed his eyes in contentment, resting his head on my shoulder again.

The arms wrapped around my waist held me tightly like a stuffed animal, his warmth soothing me.

It seemed to comfort him too.

(This is supposed to be training, but it also seems like it’s a meaningful time for Kagari to rest and relax.)

Although I was still flustered, the frantic beating of my heart —once uncontrollably fast with just a little touch—was gradually calming down.

I could feel myself starting to get used to it.

Or so I thought…

Emma: "Ah… mm…"

Kagari: "Princess, open your mouth."

I was seated on Kagari’s lap, having already lost count of how many kisses we had shared.

His tongue entwined with mine, exploring my mouth without restraint. Heat spread from deep within me, fueled by the breathless intensity and pleasure.

(I can still breathe… I’m not as nervous as I was before. The training is working… it’s working, but still…!)

Emma: "Ha… ah… Kagari, please wait!"

Kagari: " We’ll talk later. Right now, I want to focus on your training."

Emma: "Mmm…!"

(This isn’t training! Kagari just wants to kiss me!)

(Ah… no, my head is starting to feel fuzzy…)

His deep, fervent kiss melted away even my thoughts. When our lips finally parted, I found myself leaning against his chest.

Kagari: "…"

(…?)

Before I realized it, I was gently pushed down onto the bed.

His hands pinned mine to the sheets, and his knee slipped between my legs, rendering me unable to move.

Kagari: "Princess."

(Wait, is this…!)

Confusion began to cloud my mind as Kagari’s fingers reached for the ribbon of my nightgown—

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