#his face in either way sksksksksk

[theinfinitedivides]

as long as South Korea keeps paying Jang Hyuk to swing swords and act the fuck out of the script i could watch him scrape paint off of the wall. the things i do for this man

[columbiastapshoes]

hello twin peaks fandom. i just finished the og 2 seasons and for the later half of season 2 i put live reactions in my notes app. here are the highlights <3 (lmk if u want the full version it’s so much longer)

‼️spoiler warning‼️ ALSO if you read me saying ‘evil cooper’ i am talking about windom earle. i did not know there would be a literal evil cooper. at the end of the reactions ‘evil cooper #2’ is referring to cooper’s doppelgänger <3 also also!! the double return means it’s a new collection of notes that i wrote down in the same moment if that makes sense? i wanted to do screenshots instead of the actual text but alas i can only upload ten </3

- "psychological evaluation" he already has an autism diagnosis leave bro alone

- ok hang on. if josie dies and harry couldn't protect her. then. parallels with caroline dying and cooper couldn't protect her. Hm :3 (update! david lynch the man that you are.)

- "what is the greatest gift one human being can give to another?" and bobby and i make the same 🤨 face

- weasel. right. yes. i am following this conversation

- sksksksksk save the weasels

- sorry

- im really sorry

- this is the worst possible person to be helping rn. unfortunately he is incredibly smart.

- earle is dale if he used his autism for evil

- i certainly hate you james fwiw!!

- you guys have started over again like 30473938 times stop it

- "please come home with me" "actually you should go" GUYS

- done with y'all where are the queers

- cooper appears from a bush and goes "you never loved her anywayyyyy"

- christ this is rough where are my boys

- MY BOYS??? oh no it's you :/

- haha you're not gonna tell him right

- ohhhh dear :3

- im going to kms :3

- hello bri ish man would you like a bo'ol of wo'uh

- chess? great! sheriff to fbi agent. they kiss. they both win

- "have someone keep an eye on him" CUDDLE WIFH HIM COWARD HE CLEARLY NEEDS YOU. YOU ARE THE FIRST AND ONLY PERSON TO CALM HIM DOWN AND ALLOW HIM TO CRY INSTEAD OF YELL. WHAT THENFUCK DALE COOPER DO U REALIZE HOW MUCH HE LOVES U. sigh

- I DONT CARE ABOUT THE FUCKING WEASELS THIS IS SO FUCKING. RGH

- no way they have roblox dress to impress in twin peaks

- OH NO HE EVIL WHITTLES HES LIFERALLY RVIL COOPER

- i wanna kiss this sad sad man very desperately

- break it with a hammer ??? dumdum

- WOWEEBOB !! !!

- "not all men" ur right pete martell would never

- my boys have not been together as much and it's making me STBERE THEY ARE WITH A HOMOSEXUAL ARM AROUND THE SHOULDER

- oh there's a bomb! ok!

- HARRY HAS A GRANDPA SWEATERRRRR I LOVE HIMMM

- they touched hands they wanna make out sooooo bad

- the bomb can wait you guys are in love

- cooper so preeeeetttyyyyyy :333

- andy i love you very dearly

- i love how harry is so gentle and kind and patient with lucy and then he's like ANDY SHUT THE FUCK UP

- girls night (cooper interrogating audrey donna and shelly)

- wow thats comforting if i was told this i would burst into tears or flames

- i love it when cooper is in front of a whiteboard

- "for instance?" i KNEW thats how u would approach dirty talk u fancy motherfucker

- THEY ARE NOT MAKING EYE CONTACT IN AN IMPORTANT CONVERSATION. AUTISM.

- why is bro goth what happened

- evil cooper you need to either do normal foundation or all white WHY ARE HIS TEETH BLAAACK

- bro is NOT siouxsie 😭😭😭

- yeah no shit. is this. news. i knew this before u fbi fuckers did

- URETHRA! ☝️

- you could KISS him? okay evil cooper..

- finished my brownie. crave death

- who is bro talking to

- oh leo hi leo

- it hasn't panned to leo yet i think he's like dead and they'll reveal it in a sec

- oh nom worse than dead ow ow ow ow

- OW OW OW OW OWWWWIEEEEEE

- WHERE DID HE FIND THE TARANTULAS

- dw leo i can take them home. they are my friends

- giggling a lil. about. cooper.

- BY HEAVENS oh my god

- i'm still giggling about cooper but it has turned from "i want him" giggling to "BY HEAVENS!!" giggling

- ok sorry what's the issue i got distracted

- sorry had to rewind two more times BY HEAVENS is taking me out

- i always said this show needed a dance sequence (i never said that)

- jeez u guys suck not u lucy ur eating

- I ALWAYS SAID TWIN PEAKS NEEDED A KICKLINE AND TOP HATS (i never said that)

- closeup on harry's face pls don't i need GRAND THEFT AUTO.

- sorry pete just said grand theft auto.

- can my cats stop beefing i have a show to watch

- WHERE ARE HER DRAPE RUNNERS!!!!

- you don't fucking say things got out of hand Michael.

- most useless side plot i do not care

- CAN MY CATS STOP BEEEEFINGGG

- HOLY SHIT ITS EVIL COOPER TO ME AND EVIL COOPER LITERALLY!!!!!

- how is he not crying and screaming in a fetal position that would be my plan

- why is evil cooper #2 kinda.

- why do i lowkey want evil cooper #2

- TBIS FUCKING KID WITH THE FLASHLIGHT

- bobs camera angle looks like a ring doorbell

thank you!

[biscuitblinkeu]

Stay Focused [4]

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader

Warnings: Suggestive (barely smut)

Word Count: 3900

She looks so pretty in that picture sksksksksk

………………………………………………………………………………

Roseanne liked to observe others and make up little stories or guess what they’re doing. It was how she figured out what people were like. In simpler terms, if they were people she needed to stay away from or not. When she was younger, it was a way for her to protect herself, and a part of her thinks she still uses it for that.

It was a habit of hers she’d have to break. But then again, she was tired of typing away on her laptop, and she’s surrounded by people in the coffee shop…might as well.

An old aged man and woman sat with a little girl, who she guessed was their granddaughter. The older couple were drinking coffee, the kind? She’d guess decaf. The little girl brung a steaming mug to her lips, immediately jerking away from it and sticking her tounge out. The old man scolded her, and Roseanne knew she burnt her mouth.

At another booth, two friends laughed with each other. She imagined they were gossiping about school or someone.

The bell shook at the entrance behind her, signaling another customer had entered. Roseanne watched as a woman entered the room and greeted those near. They were bubbly, warming up the room with their radiance this early in the day. They lined up, taking their gloves, beanie and scarf off. Roseanne inhaled sharply, her curiosity about the new face shifting to attraction upon getting a better look. The woman was gorgeous. You were gorgeous.

She felt a strong urge of wanting to get closer and talk to you— and she did just that. She watched as you conversed with the barista, your eyes shining in poorly hidden excitement after being handed your drink. And then— and then you turned around, and Roseanne realized she was a step too close.

Roseanne had to fight the scowl threatening to appear on her face as your scalding coffee spilled onto her, slightly burning her chest in the process.

Then you tried to help— becoming too absorbed in worry to hear her telling you to stop. Roseanne grabbed your wrist, now very aware how close you were; taking up the space in front of her as you looked up in embarrassment. The scent she caught from you was warm and tropical; hints of vanilla and coconut, and the voice that quietly continued to apologize was low and rich. Feeling silly that she even noticed, she turned on her heel and left.

She didn’t know what she was thinking.

…

Roseanne doesn’t know what she was thinking when she accepted your invitation to come over.

It was purely so she could meet your daughter and let her get comfortable around her because she’d have to walk in a courthouse soon with the two of you. Just visiting a friend. (Yes, you're considered friends.) She’d already knocked on the door thrice, now waiting for someone to open it.

“I’ll be right there!” You call, trying to make it to the front door all the while picking up your daughter’s toys half-hazardously laid on the floor. You toss them in a basket before smoothing any wrinkles in your outfit and double check your hair.

Why are you so nervous? Oh, maybe because she’s coming to your house, meeting your child— and may or may not be judging the way you parent. Jaylyn didn’t give you anything to go off when Jennie visited his place and met Nala either.

“No biggie. I’m okay.” You say to yourself. Nala looks at you strangely from the couch before continuing to play with your phone.

You glance behind you, double checking again for any mess or clutter, and after deciding it looks neat and clean, you stalk up to the door, your nerves, and excitement bouncing off the walls.

You open the door with a smile before glancing at her outfit and nodding in approval because God knows you're not letting her in if she wears another one of her power suits— she’ll scare your daughter to death.

Roseanne wears a cropped officer tailcoat and under that a white pointed collar blouse tucked into black mid-rise skinny jeans and platform knee high boots. A vintage white YSL bag is slung across her shoulder and she fiddles with the golden chain as you scrutinize her outfit. She tried her best to dress casual, or, as casual as she can with her wardrobe. She didn’t find joy in intimidating your five year old daughter.

Similar to you, she also inspects your outfit choice. The way you dress fits your personality completely, which amuses her. You had an oversized Calvin Klein ivory colored sweater vest on top of a dress-shirt dress, and black boots. Soft and simple, but you made it look expensive.

You step aside, opening the door more. “Come in.” When she enters, you shut the door behind you. Roseanne was already slipping her shoes off, she set them neatly next to the other pairs of shoes. Your house was modern, sleek and minimalist, but homely. The color scheme of your home was different shades of gray and nude colors. The floor, right where she walked in, was marble that changed to wood. The living room was able to be seen down the hallway and to the right the kitchen peaked out.

“Your home is beautiful.” She comments, looking around.

“Thank you, I designed it myself.” You smile widely at the surprised look on her face. You led her into the kitchen-dining room area.

“You can put your stuff down on the table, I’ll go get her.” You informed. As Roseanne passed the living room, she was able to get a glimpse of a little girl laying on her back and kicking her feet as she played on a phone. Roseanne set her coat and bag on a chair.

“Hey, sunshine.” You greet, walking over to ruffle her hair. She giggles, sitting up and allowing you to take your phone back from her. Your daughter had dark curly hair she got from her father, thick and soft. But her facial features were identical to yours; she’s your mini me.

“I have someone I want you to meet, remember, Rosé?” (Nala has trouble saying Roseanne’s name so you refer to her as that.) Your daughter grows quiet but nods her head. You can tell she’ll retreat into her shell— being as shy as she is. You brush some curls out of her face, “Don’t worry, she’s…nice.” You didn’t know if you were trying to convince your daughter or yourself, honestly. You’ve never seen Roseanne with kids.

Nala hops off the couch and reaches out for your hand, making your heart burst. You take her small hand in yours and walk to where you left Roseanne. The attorney puts down her phone and sits a little straighter seeing you enter the room. Nala is slightly hiding behind your leg and refuses to let your hand go. She scooted a little closer to you. You smile apologetically at Roseanne.

“Nala, this is Rosé.” You introduced the two. When Nala nodded but didn't speak, Roseanne smiled kindly at her and went down on her knees, to the little girl’s height.

“It's nice to finally meet you, your mom talks about you a lot.” Roseanne glanced at you before continuing. “Is that SpongeBob on your shirt? That's so cool! I really like that cartoon, wish I had more time to watch it.”

“Yeah!” Nala said enthusiastically, hopping up and down, the shyness she had before disappearing. “But aren’t you too old to watch kid shows?” Nala asks, stepping away from your leg and tilting her head. You almost giggled at the shock on Roseanne’s face.

“I suppose…but I believe cartoons are for anyone.” She really did. Roseanne avoided your gaze when she admitted this. She didn’t want to find out if you’d judge her for liking cartoons at her age.

And just like that, ice broken. You were amazed at how quickly your daughter relaxed. Roseanne was great with children. It was hard to believe that this friendly woman was the same one who had been so closed off when you’d first met. You concluded Roseanne was like an onion, and you wanted to keep peeling back the layers.

Seeing her interact with your daughter was distracting and strangely domestic. It had your mind wandering off. making scenarios, you needed to focus. You cleared your throat, “Okay, so I planned to make cookies together? If that’s okay, I don’t know how long you wanted to stay…” You tailed off looking at Roseanne. She stood up and brushed her pants off, nodding. “That sounds perfect.”

You opened the fridge and began rummaging for the ingredients. “Are you allergic to peanut butter or anything?” You bought peanut butter cookies because they're Nala’s favorite, but you still had chocolate chips.

“Not that I know of.” You hummed, pulling out a flat pan and an assortment of mixing bowls and cooking utensils. You tied Nala’s hair up and then you all washed your hands. Roseanne pulled a stool up to the counter for Nala to stand on so she could help.

You set the ingredients on Roseanne’s side; granulated sugar, packed brown sugar, salted butter, two large eggs, vanilla extract, salt, baking soda, all-purpose flour, and sweet chocolate chips.

You and Roseanne took turns pouring the stuff in a big bowl, when it got to the flour you got a phone call. “I’ll just take this real fast. You guys can finish up.” Then you walked off. Nala took it as a chance to ask if she could pour something in…the flour. Big brown eyes looked up at her, Nala even jutting her bottom lip out for extra effect. Roseanne couldn’t say no to her. (Little did she know you never let Nala pour things.)

When you walked back into the kitchen to the sight of your attorney wiping your daughter's face and your kitchen— let’s just say it looked like it snowed inside. Noticing you, Nala stood next to Roseanne, the two looking incredibly guilty and apologetic. White powder all on their clothes and face.

“What happened here?” You got out in between laughs. You can guess what happened, evidence was all over the kitchen. The empty flour bag with its contents spilled on the counter and floor was your main suspect.

“Uh…” Roseanne trailed off before looking down at your daughter, "The flour, while we were pouring it in, slipped and fell all over us. I tried to catch it and then it got…everywhere.”

Nala feels the need to help, “Mommy, I’m sorry, I wanted to pour something. It’s not Rosé’s fault.”

You shake your head with a chuckle, “I know baby, let’s get you guys cleaned up, yeah?”

After you wiped her face, Nala ran up the stairs to get changed, leaving the two of you in the kitchen sweeping up the flour. As you were wiping down the counters, Roseanne spoke up.

“So…Rosé?” Roseanne commented now that the two of you were alone in the kitchen. Her clothes and face now cleared of flour, she sat at the table. She was curious about the name you refer to her as with Nala.

“Oh.” Oh course she would catch that. “It’s just a nickname we came up with…Nala likes it.”

“Do you like it? Is that what you’d rather call me?” You could feel the burn of Roseanne’s stare into the side of your face.

“I— yes, are you okay with me calling you that? Can I?” You say sheepishly, your excitement of wanting to call her that shows from the raise of your voice.

“You can. I like it.” Usually it’s Rosie— well, Jennie has staked her claim with that nickname— Rose, or her Korean name, Chaeyoung.

Nala came running downstairs in a change of clothes and you all ate the cookies together. She was later picked up by her grandma for the weekend.

…

Rosé was typing on her phone, quite fast, talking to her friends. They wanted her to invite you to go with them to a bar tonight. Rosé couldn’t help but feel like they were planning something, they know how Rosé gets when she’s had a little bit to drink. (She curses herself for being a lightweight.) she didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or worse, do something she might regret.

You ended up accepting the offer— although a bit hesitant because you rarely go to bars, clubs, etc.— not being busy later.

After Rosé left you did some work on your laptop for a couple hours and then began getting ready to head to the bar. You wore a black long sleeve v-neck mini dress and heels. (Your feet are gonna kill you later.) Then to accessorize, pearl earrings and a necklace with golden rings.

You didn’t feel like driving so you ubered to the location they sent you. It was a fancy hotel nightclub bar, the setting…any party place on a Friday night; crowded. Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo, Nayeon, and Rosé met you outside the building.

“You guys look so pretty!” You exclaimed as you made it to them, hugging them briefly.

“Thank you for coming with us. And girl you look gorgeous, give us a twirl!” Jennie spins you around. Lisa elbows Rosé in the ribs, “Don’t you think she looks pretty?”

Rosé blinks, (she was staring at you the whole time), she nodded absentmindedly, causing Lisa to smile slyly and you to smile shyly. (I rhymed bitches.) Jisoo snatches you away from Jennie and you all walk in. You had to take an elevator all the way to the top.

When walking in, you see the dance floor with sweaty, drunken adults coiled tightly together jump and dance to the music. The bar, lined with people ordering drinks makes you wince. Getting a drink from there was gonna be a hassle. Jisoo quickly clears things up for you.

“Don’t be worried about the bar, we have the VIP bar to ourselves.” Jisoo entangled her arm with yours as you walk through the crowd to the VIP section seats. Rosé and Nayeon follow close behind and Jenlisa walks in front.

It wasn’t long before you found seats next to the bar. You sit in an L shaped booth; Rosé on your left, next to her is Lisa and Jennie, and Jisoo next to Nayeon.

“No more, please.” You push away the glass as Nayeon laughs. You took three shots in the car and two as soon as you sat down. “Give me like fifteen minutes and a lot of water.” You weren’t a lightweight, but it only took so much for you to get drunk.

“Fine,” Nayeon clicks her tongue, standing up and asking the others if they want anything else from the bar. Your eyes scan the room, eventually landing on a quiet Rosé.

“You okay?” You ask the blonde next to you. The lighting is low, the strobe lights flashing across her face, and you make out the very slight glazed look in her eyes. The alcohol seems to be hitting her harder and you’re noticing she’s a lot more affectionate than normal, especially with her hands constantly all over you in one way or another.

She hums before taking a piece of chicken off Jisoo’s BBQ chicken skewers.

She puts the piece into her mouth and uses her thumb to wipe leftover sauce off the corner of her mouth, then licking it off her thumb.

Your face heats up and you avert your gaze back to the table. Maybe you should get her some water, sober her up a little— yeah. Also to give yourself a small break.

When you get up you have to take her hand off your thigh— Jisoo in the middle of swallowing her food, sees this. The blatant shock that hits her makes her choke on her chicken. She begins to hit her chest, struggling to get the chunk out her throat and everyone looks at her weirdly. When done, she half heartedly glares at Nayeon who was right next to her but didn’t help before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I need another drink.” She deadpans.

…

You returned with water shortly after before leaving again to converse with the bartender. Rosé sips on her water, alternating between checking on you and talking to the girls. She heard the snickers of Jennie and Nayeon and turned their way.

“What?”

“Nothing.” They giggle. Rosé raises an eyebrow and finishes her second cup of water. She knows they’re having a blast seeing her like this.

Rosé glances back to the bar to see you animatedly chatting with the bartender guy. After the bartender told you something, you laughed out loud and gave him a high five. He leaned in and whispered something in your ear and you both pulled your phones out; probably exchanging numbers.

You go back to the table and tell them you’ll just go to the bathroom. You quickly use the restroom and fix your appearance a bit.

When someone enters the bathroom you think nothing of it and continue to fix up your lipstick, but when you hear the click of the door’s lock, it's a different story. Now you're thinking you might just get jumped, murdered, or anything else similar to those scenarios.

Turning around, you're relieved to see it was just Rosé.

Just Rosé, looking at you with a hunger in her deep brown eyes. Your face heats up as she traps her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes running up and down your body, head to toe.

She could’ve waited longer— she would have, if Jisoo and Lisa didn’t team up on her and make her impatient.

“She’ll be snatched away from you by someone as soon as you take your eyes off of her. Everyone wants to get to know the new face in the club, after all.” Jisoo stirs her drink before motioning to a group of friends at the bar, staring past them to where you converse with one of the bartenders. “Don’t they look like wolves eyeing a piece of meat?”

Rosé grips the table a little tighter, a frown appearing on her face. It was clear she didn’t want that. Lisa holds back a laugh at Rosé’s poorly controlled facial expressions. The Thai is surprised Rosé is feeding into their teasing and not dismissing them, you must be more important than a fling to Rosé— or her friend is just being possessive.

Either way they’ll have a very nice field day getting her worked up.

“Jisoo is right, if I was single and ready to mingle I would’ve taken a chance— but I’m married...” Lisa says, the last part of her sentence earning her a pinch to the thigh by the cat-eyed woman next to her. She continues to clear things up, looking at Jennie with heart eyes. “Very happily to this incredibly sexy, beautiful woman…with the strength of a man—”

“Lili!” Jennie hisses, slapping the Thai’s shoulder, trying to appear angry but with the red on her cheeks it’s hard to believe she really is. Jisoo, Nayeon, and Rosé watch the two with soft looks, happy for their friends. Rosé can only wish upon a shooting star she’ll have that someday.

Her heels clack against the tiled floors, each step she takes further makes your heart speed up. Now in front of you, mere inches away from each other, she traps you with her arms on your sides, hands gripping onto the cool countertops.

Your breathing is more shallow now and your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip, the action being followed by Rosé’s eyes.

Trapped between her and the countertops, her lips capture your own in a searing kiss and instinctively your eyes flutter closed. Your hands travel up the small of her waist, clutching the fabric of her dress.

Her soft hands start to run up and down your body slowly, occasionally grazing the underside of your breasts, and you can’t even think about the fact that Rosé is kissing you. Her lips are as soft as you imagined, faintly tasting of the rosé wine she was sipping on earlier; strawberries.

Tongues intertwine, exploring one another’s mouths greedily. You let your hands rest on Rosé’s hips, feeling her soft curves. When you part, you're panting. She catches her breath much quicker than you and kisses down your jaw and along your throat.

“If it’s my attention you wanted…” She drags her teeth down your jugular before continuing. “You always have it.” You can only whimper in response, fingers threading themselves in her silky blonde hair.

Rosé inhales deeply, pressing her nose against your skin, as if trying to contain something extremely forceful; herself. You looked, smelled, felt amazing. All night she could only think about you, only want you— trembling beneath her with her name spilling from your lips like a mantra.

“I could make you feel good, darling. So good. Will you let me?” She traces miscellaneous shapes on your waist, staring at you earnestly.

When Rosé's hands reach to palm your breasts gently and you give up. You close your eyes, powerless, and your mouth falls agape as she peppers kisses along your jawline. “I love this.” You hear against your ear. It takes you a moment to realize that she’s talking about your dress. “It’s cute.” She plays with one of the straps. “Too bad it’s going to be on my floor, long forgotten.”

“Oh my god.” You breathe out in disbelief. The way she’s talking— it makes you dizzy. Rosé smiles against your neck.

The red lights strobe, red hues highlight Rosé’s acute features almost dangerously; seductively. Making her more alluring. There is a faint scent of vanilla, amber, and roses, it’s hers, that clouds your thinking.

When you feel a firm, naked leg parting your own thighs, you can’t help but throw your head back in a spur of delight. The firm pressure against your heat sends you into a frenzy. Feeling your knees weaken, you grab onto her shoulder for support.

“You are so enticing, darling. All for me? You just have to say yes.” She hoped you would, she can’t get enough of you.

In your dizzy judgment, you wonder why she even asks, why she’d need permission for something that she can take so easily. When Roseanne starts to suck reddish spots on your sensitive skin, you can hardly gather another thought.

“Say yes, beautiful. Let me have you.” Rosé nibbles at your velvety throat with her front teeth, soft at first and more insistently due your lack of response. A needy groan goes past her lips as your flavor falls onto her tongue. “Fuck— Come on, say yes. Give in, (Y/n).”

She uses her strong hands to guide your waist so you can ride her leg at a steady pace. The dirty mewl that breaks free from your throat should be enough, but you know Rosé wants straight answers. You would give her anything, anything at all just to keep up with the pleasing friction.

“Yes.” You let out a moan, feeling your body pleasingly trapped between her strong body and the rough countertops. “Yes, yes-”

With that, Rosé doesn’t want any longer.

A/n: cliff hanger anyways…sorry if this chapter is cringe or some parts seem lazy bc I did get lazy in the middle, also— If this chapter is too spicy I’m sorry, and I’m also sorry for the next chapters after this 🙇🏽‍♀️

Would you like to continue?(´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

[chiwhorei]

the folly of man

pairing: e. todoroki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.6k

tags: the softest!enji there ever was, crybabie!reader, age gap (20ish vs. 50), d/s dynamics, belly bulge, squirting, overstim, daddy kink, size kink, dacryphilia, a spank, breeding kink, creampie, i am dramatic and clinically melancholy so it’s a little angsty but it’s really just unabashed, self-indulgent fluff

a/n: i screamed about soft!enji to @messwriting a few weeks ago, then the other night enji took me to paris and wrecked my shit in my dreams. the result? complete self-indulgence. i will not be taking criticism on my desire to fuck this man, he is a drawing. (the banner image is from the lonely doll by dare wright, if you know this book we probably have very similar issues sksksksksk)

hymn: angel by finneas

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss,” ~ John Milton, Paradise Lost

He swears it’s your quirk that got him. Grabbed him by the collar, stole his soul from his chest— you swiped it right from his rib cage.

You sit across from him, legs folded under each other and pen pressing against your lips. Is it your lips? Or the way words curl past them?

A siren’s call in the form of a 20-something journalist. He hates the likes— prodding for sound bites and snippets to plaster across front pages. But your figure buckles in on itself, nerves weighing down the fabric of a light pink blouse and tight-yet-tasteful pencil skirt. Your presence is gentle and honeyed, it feels warm where Enji is usually burning hot.

Your fever spreads across his cheeks and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you need me to repeat the question?”

Your bottom lip trembles nervously, pulled in between your teeth to gnaw on. Freshly graduated and on your very first assignment, it seemed hilarious to send the newly minted recruit into a white-hot tongue lashing.

“Mr. Number One has chewed the head off of every reporter in Japan, it’s a right of passage.”

The echo of your colleague’s stifled laugh rings in your ear as you stare back, you scan over the small wrinkles by his eyes and the jagged scar across his face. The silvered skin curves around his features like atonement. There’s something about the prolific hero that seems to pull you towards him. You grab the side of your chair so as to not fall forward right into his orbit.

Any attempt at distance was doomed from the beginning.

He shakes his head, eyes darting from either of yours to find the question you asked him. He coughs awkwardly, nodding his head for you to continue. Any desire to snap at you dissolves into the carpet with the very first laugh. You let out a small, tinkling giggle against better judgement that cracks the glassed tension.

“What is your biggest inspiration?”

The question hangs in the air a moment before a rehearsed answer falls from his mouth, something about the citizens of his community and the desire to keep his country safe. Whatever tumbles out is less interesting than how you smile in response.

Every person in the room-- agents, publicists, the poor intern holding a black coffee in his trembling hands-- watch on, collectively agape, at the scene before them.

Flame Hero: Endeavor breaks composure for a moment to send you a docile, lopsided smile.

You decide it’s something you won’t soon get tired of seeing.

“Did you get everything you wanted,” his voice trails off with a hint of uncertainty, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, “I could answer a few more questions over dinner.”

Enji stands in shock at his own behavior, the inferno flickers little more than a candle in your eyeline. Every minute holds sixty seconds of opportunity, and Enji’s hair is graying at the ends. Even if you brush the dusty old hero from your shoulders with guffaw, even if you roll your eyes or kiss his insole with a pointed heel. He can’t afford to waste a moment more.

It has to be your quirk, he decides, reciting like a prayer the only logical answer to his sweating palms and clambering heart. Nothing makes sense but keeping you within arms reach. It must be some kind of hypnosis, maybe a pheromone.

Enji’s penance lies in the soft, supplied skin of a quirkless civilian.

***

There are few places that have felt like home, no matter what four walls build a house around him. He alone is responsible for each one decaying. He deserves a spot in every plane of hell.

Enji leans against the headboard, scanning over pages of John Milton and enjoying the quiet just after dusk. Looking over the top of his glasses, the book in hand falls out of frame, like most everything does.

Pink lace hangs like bated breath from your shoulders and hips. You look on to him for approval, the set your eyes had lingered on in a boutique window now brandishes the swell of your breasts.

“My perfect girl.” His words are filled with wonder, pulling at the ends of his mouth when you twirl, the ends of flowing lace pick up around you like wings.

Winter air creeps from the open balcony to hit your skin, spreading chills down every inch. Enji watches as you shiver, the cool breeze prickles past pick lace with little effort.

“Come here.” Enji tosses his glasses and book to the bedside table and pats his lap.

Nothing feels more like home than when you settle to lie atop his naked chest, cheek pressed firmly against his pulse.

You rest your chin against his sternum, hands crawling up to find warmth from his skin. He feels the thin, golden ring as your touch trails around his neck.

His own hands, calloused and battered, eclipse over your lower back to find purchase against your ass.

Away from the prying eyes of domestic paparazzi and forty minutes outside of Paris— Enji cuts out what feels like a stolen heaven.

Idle chat about the museum he took you to today fills the room comfortably. Your fingertip comes down to trace the lines of marred skin across the bridge of his nose, he hums and smiles as you talk about paintings.

None stood out to him.

He takes your hand in his much bigger one, kissing the band that mimics his own. You tangle your fingers together.

“This feels like a dream,” your voice is barely above a whisper, lest the night air hears the talk of lovers.

“I’m not totally convinced you aren’t a dream.” Enji pulls you to sit back against his legs, in this position you can meet his eyes without straining upward. Strong hands come down to rest at your hips, thumbs rubbing lightly against the lingerie’s fabric.

You scoff, batting at his chest, you laugh his comments off in moments like this. But Enji is convinced one day you will lift straight from the world with nothing left but your shoes keeping the earth weighted down.

Soft lips ghost over his, an invitation he’ll never refuse. Your mouth is against him, small hands coming to either side of Enji’s face. His graying stubble is coarse under your fingers. You inhale deeply, he smells like campfire and expensive cologne. Your tongue slips between his lips. His mouth tastes like the remnants of the bottle of red wine you shared after dinner

The hands around your middle pull your impossibly closer, pressing into your lower back to grind your hips down against the bulge in his sweatpants. Your body moves against him, panties rubbing against your already throbbing clit.

“Daddy.” The title wraps in chords around his vertebrae, the sounds of whimpering hits his ear, and he notices the wet patch rubbing right against his knee.

“What do you want, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” The maneuvering of your hips starts slow, but Enji has you almost bouncing on his leg before you can answer him. Both of your hands wrap around his left wrist, tugging it in between your legs.

“I want you to touch me, please. I- I need it.” You bite the inside of your cheek when the pads of his fingers graze the damp, thin material of your panties, his burning touch sets every blood cell aflame.

“You’re so wet, princess, what’s got you all worked up?” There’s a gleam of humor in his voice, seeing you desperate for him has Enji stiffening beneath you.

“My precious little thing, I’ll take good care of you.” His words write you a promise, it extends far past a night of love in Paris.

You can feel his assurance carved into your heart.

Enji’s hand dips into the front of your underwear, ghosting over your clit and running against your swollen lips. He marvels at your response, the smallest ministrations have your head rolling to the side.

His pointer and middle finger prod against you, inching inside carefully. Even with the utmost care, you wince at the stretch. No matter how many times he’s fucked you open in this whirlwind year,

“You’re tighter than a fucking vise, Christ.”

A long moan escapes you, knees moving to dig into the mattress below you for leverage to buck against his hand. Enji curls his fingers upwards, calloused tips finding the spongy patch of skin that has you squirming. His fingers cross over each other, pumping into you and easing you to relax against the intrusion.

“Daddy, I want your cock. I’m ready, please.” The heat in your core is rising, licking against your nerves like wildfire. Enji tutts in response to your begging, his thumb coming down to rub taught circles into your clit.

“I know, princess, but you remember the rules. Cum on my fingers, and I’ll give you what you want.” Enji picks up the pace of his fingers, his own patience thinning at the edges with each call for your daddy.

“Close, ‘m close,” your voice wobbles, aching legs pushing you against him, chasing desperately for that first release.

Enji feels you clenching tight in finality, a squeal breaching the steamy space around you. You crack in his tight hold, the taste of bliss coats your tongue-- it tastes like tears.

You slump forward against his chest, coming to float back down to earth before he sends you hurdling back towards the sun.

“You’re so beautiful, princess, absolutely perfect.” Enji’s voice is heavy, lined with a certain bitterness you are familiar with. His compliments always sound like apologies.

You lift your head, forehead pressing against his, the stray hair around your face tickling his skin.

There aren’t words that could heal decades. No amount of atonement, no prayers to any gods will fix a life of despair. He shoulders the blame of it all, heavy against bones and muscle.

Moving to kiss him tenderly, lips pulling him back into the world's sweetest direction. You shouldn’t let him use you as his redemption. If Enji were another man, a better man, he would have walked away from you that fateful afternoon under fluorescent light with just the fleeting feeling you dipped his heart in.

He’s not any kind of good in this world, Enji is a foolish bastard.

He’ll keep kissing you, he’ll touch and lick and fuck you until your wings pick up in the wind and fly you away.

“I want to ride your cock, Daddy. Let me make you feel good too.” You beg for him once again, you beg to be a distraction, the sweetest kind of diversion-- hidden snugly in the quiet of a French villa.

Enji is meticulous with stripping you of the dainty lace, brushing off the straps of your bra so the cups fall right under your pert nipples. He moves his hands slowly, snaking up your sides to swipe his thumbs against the pebbled buds. You don’t try to stop the wines falling like prayer, your body still on edge from your first orgasm.

He pulls off your soaked panties, eyes tracing the strings of slick collecting and breaking off from your glistening cunt.

“Such a precious little pussy, and it’s all mine.” Enji frees his cock from his sweats and boxers, the length springing to slap against his abdomen. He pumps his hand a few times before pressing it against your stomach. It’s no surprise that his size is impressive, long and thick in an ever-intimidating way.

Enji admires how his cock presses against you, tip nudging against your belly button. In comparison to your smaller form, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped you in half.

You’d let him.

“No more teasing, Daddy. I need it, please.” Desperation sparks against your nerves, igniting with the sharp sound of Enji’s hand against your ass.

“Don’t get mouthy now, princess.” His warning is light, he’s never been good at denying you.

He pulls your hips up, lining himself up so you can sink down onto him. If his fingers make you whimper, the first breach of his shaft makes you wail.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging in to steady yourself with every deliciously unforgiving inch. You’ll never get used to his size, you never want to.

Enji has held composure with white knuckles, but his resolve is rusting with every movement of your descent. His desire to tear into you becomes untamable, his mind swims in with the velveteen grip you suck him in with.

“You’re mine, fuck, you’re mine forever.” He will promise you until he believes it himself.

He’ll believe in forever if forever means you.

The folly of man is nestled at the apex of your thighs, is pleading gasps, is begging for more, is too much and too little.

And Enji is a fool in love.

The gates of heaven open between your quivering legs to let the devil in. He’ll take every moment he can steal.

As your hips settle down finally, the feeling of being so completely full has tears collecting in your lashes to run down your cheeks. It’s depraved, truly, how beautiful your destruction is.

Enji gives you a moment, adjusting to his size and relaxing, his hand comes down to rub against your stomach, tracing against the skin lightly.

“I can feel it,” his breath hitches, the pulsing around him is dizzying, he feels his tip as it moves inside of you, “fuck, I can feel my cock in your tummy.”

Shaky thighs start moving above him, the bounce of fat and flesh atop his hardened body. He can’t help the declarations flying from his mouth, he can’t stop the itching feeling to make you his completely.

“I want to fuck a baby into you, want to fill you so full.” He can feel the way your body reacts to his most perverse desire, “I want you round and swollen with my child.”

Enji grabs your hips, taking control and quickening the pace of his assault on your weeping pussy. You cry out, a string of babbled, “Please, daddy, please fuck me full, s-so full.”

You can feel your second orgasm bubbling up with each stroke of Enji’s cock against your abused pussy. All words are lost, all thoughts fuzzy aside from the man pounding himself into you from below.

“Cum around me, little girl, cum around my cock.” Enji’s words are little more than a growl, head thrown back into the pillows as you constrict around him. His fingers come down against your clit again, rubbing with fervor. He’s adamant on throwing you head-first, body limp and overstimulated in every way.

You feel it in the gnashing of your teeth, the wound chord snapping like floss around Enji. You feel yourself gushing, your cum leaking around him and dripping onto the bed sheets.

Enji cums with one final buck, hips lifting off of the bed as he spills into you. You can feel the thick spurts against your still pulsating walls, filling you to the brim and trickling out even before you separate.

He stays inside of you for a moment, large hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you to crumble into his chest. You collapse against his warm, jagged skin. He lulls you with soft strokes to your hair, behind the flush and sweat on your face, he sees the dizzy, love-drunk expression tugging on your lips.

No matter how many times you disagree, Enji knows it’s true.

The swelling, disorienting feeling of your smile. The visions of a future, of the life he doesn't deserve but wouldn’t give up for any deal the devil could make him. The sight of you, simply and without motive, every day.

It has to be your quirk.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 3/?

Pt. 1 / / pt. 2

A/n: cannot believe we made it to pt. 3 I’m sksksksksk,,,, they finally get together! Pt 4/5 will b them all together and adjusting and then it’ll b readers bday so 👀👀

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: swearing, omegaverse, mad pining, Katsuki get exposed for going to therapy lmao, Izuku is kinda a shithead, Katsuki b mad insecure, reader is still dumb- everyone except for Izuku is bad at feelings

The two of you had gotten sidetracked, really quickly, it wasn’t even twenty minutes before you were putting a horror video on the tv. That was almost an hour ago, and you were about to doze off now, laying on your back with your head on the arm rest, Izuku right on top of you with his head tucked under your chin. You didn’t know how you got into this position, but you weren’t complaining, it was… nice. Perfect, almost, but something still felt like it was missi-

“Y/n- why the fuck are our stupid friends asking me about your new- Deku?” Katsuki burst through the door, already yelling, and his scent took on a burnt tinge that almost had you gagging when he slammed the door behind him.

“Kacchan! I didn’t realise you were Y/n’s roommate!” Izuku perked up almost immediately, sitting up so he was straddling you with his eyes fixed right on Katsuki.

“Wait, you two know each other-“ You tried to sit up, barely managing to turn your head to see Katsuki, Izuku was stronger than he looked, and he obviously didn’t want you moving-

“Yeah we go way back, childhood friends, right Kacchan?” Izuku’s tone was light, but you couldn’t see the feral look on his face from where you were trapped on the couch.

“Right… that doesn’t explain what the fuck you’re doing here, Deku.” Katsuki snarled, and Izuku giggled at the blonde. What the fuck kinda thing were you stuck in the middle of-

“What does it look like, Kacchan? We’re courting now! And Y/n’s already been such a good alpha, I’m surprised you didn’t ask them-“

“What does he mean you’re courting?” Katsuki’s tone was something you’d never heard before, and your heart twinged at it. “Get the fuck off of them Deku.” He walked closer to the couch, until he could grab onto your arm and haul you off, Izuku sliding back to the couch and pouting.

“He asked me on the way home and I accepted-“ Katsuki’s heart sank, he’d been too late? “I didn’t think you’d care, aren’t you courting Kiri?” Your scent was far too comforting, and the way it accompanied Izuku’s had Katsuki feeling something he definitely didn’t want to. Deku was a stalker! A creepy little nothing stalker! With great hair- no! And you looked so cute when you were confused like this-!

“Katsuki, are you okay?” You waved your hand in front of his face, and the blonde only let out another snarl. What if you found out about what he’d done to Deku, you’d never look at him the same, and from the way Deku was smirking the bastard knew it too.

“Whatever- I’m fucking going to bed.” Katsuki pushed past you, and you could only gawk as he disappeared down the hall and into his room.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, you were meant to be with him, it had been the two of you for years! Why were you such a fucking idiot! Katsuki was fuming even as he hugged the pillow he’d stolen from your room, how dare Deku come back and steal you! Still, the nagging thought that coming back to the two of you… had felt like home wouldn’t get out of his head and it was only making him angrier.

“Katsuki? Izuku went back to his apartment, do you have any requests for dinner?” Your voice floated through his door and Katsuki opened his mouth to respond on instinct. No, if you wanted to be with Deku so badly you clearly didn’t care about him, and so he would stop caring about you.

“Katsuki? Please come out, I don’t understand why you’re upset but I want to.” You tried to keep the desperate tone out of your voice. It didn’t work, and Katsuki was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself crooning in an attempt to calm you down.

“Okay… I’ll uh, just be in my room if you want to talk.”

This was getting out of hand, it was like you were living with a ghost. It had been three days of Katsuki ignoring you, three days of no contact whatsoever, and even though you had Izuku, and he was just… amazing, it still felt like something was missing. You actually didn’t think you’d gone this long without talking to Katsuki in- well since the two of you had met. But, it was finally the weekend, you’d have to run into him at some point, and then you could finally talk, even if he didn’t feel like it.

You were pulled into Izuku’s apartment before you could even knock, the omega giving you a deep kiss before quickly tugging you into a hug and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland.

“I missed you, Y/n! What took so long?” Izuku only pulled away when he couldn’t smell anything except you, and pride filled him when he saw you were wearing his sweater.

“Sorry Bub, I was trying to get Katsuki to talk to me but he’s still giving me the silent treatment.” You shrugged as he walked you over to the couch, something already playing in the background, and Izuku pushed you down without hesitation. You let the omega position you how he wanted, wasting no time wrapping your arms around him once Izuku settled down next to you with his head on your chest and your legs tangled together.

“You know… it does seem like he likes you, maybe you could suggest a triad? I know I wouldn’t object.” Izuku’s tone was so nonchalant you’d expected him to ask what you wanted to watch, not suggest bringing Katsuki into the relationship.

“You’d be okay with that? Really?” You hadn’t even considered that, you felt kinda stupid, honestly. Why hadn’t you- oh, right.

“I think he’s courting someone else, actually, I’m sure that’s why he’s being so weird.” You pushed any hope you had down when you remembered how much time Katsuki actually spent with Kirishima, and how close they seemed to be.

“If you say so, but I wouldn’t write the idea off, Kacchan’s always been good with surprises.” Izuku shifted to press a kiss to your scent gland, before he grabbed the remote and returned his attention to putting on a show.

It was Sunday, you hadn’t seen your roommate all weekend, this really wasn’t going how you planned. A sigh left you as you pushed open the door to your apartment, you’d been with Izuku for most of the day, and you were so, so ready to just go to sleep. You’d been exhausted for the last few days, and Denki kept commenting about how snappy you were and asking why your scent was ‘so weird man’ when the three of you had met for lunch. It was sweet how much they cared, but annoying as fuck nonetheless. You were wide awake outside your door though, almost missing the sweet caramel smell that leaked out until you had your hand on the handle. Your room didn’t usually smell like that, not unless-

“Katsuki-? What’s going on?” You pushed open the door to a very, very startled Katsuki, like a deer in headlights, really, and your confusion only grew when he was holding onto an armful of your clothes. “You could have just asked if you wanted something for your nest, but isn’t Kiri helping with that?” You closed the door behind you, and Katsuki’s eyes darted from you to the door. Fuck, you weren’t supposed to be home for another twenty minutes, you’d usually spend at least two hours at Deku’s place, why the fuck had you come back so early? Katsuki clutched the clothes tighter against his chest as neither of you spoke, you really still thought he was with shitty hair when all he really wanted was you?

“Katsuki? This is ridiculous- what’s going on with you? Why won’t you talk to me?” You stepped forward and Katsuki growled when you got within a foot of him, the sound setting you on edge and making you release a growl of your own on instinct.

“We’re gonna talk about this, I’m not letting you ignore me anymore, it sucks! It feels like there’s a piece of me missing-!” You stepped forward with every word, flinching at yourself when you heard your voice crack at the end.

“What does any of that matter? You have Deku now, the two of you are perfect together, you don’t need me anymore!” Katsuki yelled back, everything that happened the last day and the confused puddle that the state his feelings were in finally bubbling over. It was too much, he’d barely seen you and now here you were, reeking of Deku of all people, and accusing him of liking someone else.

“How could you say that? I need you, Katsuki-! I always need you! These last few days have been hell without you! It’s bad enough I have to deal with you courting Kiri, but now you don’t even talk to me and I don’t understand what’s going on!” Tears kept welling up in your eyes, and Katsuki dropped the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands balling into fists by his side.

“Because I don’t know- I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling!” Katsuki’s voice broke, and you barely had time to open your mouth before he continued. “I thought that we- that we were set in stone, and then I come back to you and fucking Deku on the couch and fuck that hurt! But it fucking- it fucking felt like home, and all I wanted to do was join you and I don’t understand why!” He turned around to wipe his eyes, and your jaw hit the floor as you tried to process. He wasn’t… courting Kiri…?

“You’re such an idiot- you couldn’t just tell me this?” Exasperated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt.

“How could I say anything? I was horrible to Deku in school because I couldn’t deal with my feelings, why would either of you want to be with me after how awful I’ve been?” There was no anger in Katsuki’s tone anymore, and the guilty scent he was putting out was just putting you on edge.

“You regret it though, don’t you? And I know you’ve worked really hard to be better, and you even go to therapy now-“ Katsuki snarled at the last part, he hated whenever you brought up therapy, but at least you weren’t yelling.

“We actually talked it over and… Izuku and I both like the idea of a triad with- well with you, if you wanted.” You reached out to grab Katsuki’s shoulder, though he refused to look you in the eye when you turned him to face you. You had to be lying, you had to, you couldn’t mean that and he didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.

“Katsuki, you gotta talk to me, I can’t read your mind.” Your cards were all out on the table now, and your anxious scent was a dead giveaway to your feelings. What if you’d ruined everything? What if you’d gotten everything wrong- you were never good at guessing-

“You’re being serious? This isn’t some kind of payback?” Red eyes finally met yours and you could only nod, you still got caught of guard by how pretty he was. “Okay, I’ll join your shitty fucking triad.”

Taglist (pls lemme know if any of em r wrong)

@pasteldaze @hopeless-ro-simptic @ntngann @somerandominternetgirl-blog @ianem005 @lalaluvzen @antisocial-minnie @rogueofbullshit @hakunamatatayqueen @so-uncute @therealwalmartjesus @unlightedfool @all-the-kings-reblogs @cth-l

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Smiler

Warning: Flufffffffffffff Word count: 2,1k   Summary: Damian Wayne doesn’t smile. Ever. So when he suddenly starts to do so after reading text messages and receiving calls from an outsider his siblings get suspicious. Shenanigans ensue. Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Requested by the lovely-dove(l)y(?) Anon again: My second request is Damian is getting random phone calls during the day where he just smiles and walks away to answer it ( it’s the reader on the phone) and everyone is really confused so when he sneaks out they follow him and meet her

A/N: Again SKSKSKSKSK So much fluffffffffffff (a bit less than the other one, but still, I think it’s fluffy), also I decided to end this with the same sentence as the otehrs one because of the similarities and because it just kinda fits I think. 

Damian Wayne was never a smiler. Certainly not before he came to the manor nor after. If he ever smiled it was either through Schadenfreude or it was plainly fake. Everybody knew that: his father, his siblings, the media, his teachers, just everybody. Seeing Damian smile was like an evil omen, and you felt the urge to get your ducks in a row, just in case he’d kill you in a few minutes, mainly if his smile is directed at you. It was like having a lion look at you and fletch its teeth. So imagine how Dick felt when he had Damian smile while they were having a fight. One second he’s screaming at him about what in Imbecile he is, the next second he looks down at his phone laying on the coffee table and smiles. And not one of his evil smirks that you get when he knows you’ll get hurt or embarrassed in some way soon, or one of those fake smiles Bruce had got him to give the high and mighty at Galas, No. It was a real, genuine smile. One he had never seen before. “Damian?” he couldn’t help but try to get his attention back but found himself regretting it when instead of explaining or sharing what made him smile, he immediately went back to insulting him. The next time that happened was shortly after one night of patrol with Damian, Tim and Bruce. The latter sent the two boys home and to bed and decided he’d stay out a bit longer on his own and contact Jason if he needed help. And when the two of them came back into the cave, Tim spectated something completely stunning. While he decided to stay in the suit and sat down at the batcomputer to keep on working, Damian informed him that he’d go shower. But before he disappeared into his father’s office and consequentially into the manor, he walked over to a locker-like shelf in one of the corners near the batcomputer where they sometimes stored their phones and wallets during the patrol. He let the construct scan his hand, alerting Tim to look into the direction with the ‘blob’ sound it made when it opened. And then he saw it. A smile, a real genuine smile like the one Dick had experienced only a day earlier. Tim wasn’t able to see what he was looking it, only knowing that he had only stored his phone in the locker, but he knew it must have been something incredible if it could make Damian smile as simple as that. For a moment, Tim considered asking, considered finding out what in the world could make this happen, but before he could do anything, Damian - and his phone - had disappeared up the stairs.

After that, it started happening more and more often. It wasn’t limited to small glances at Damian’s phone and then a smile, no, now it was him staring and typing (obviously texting with someone) for minutes at a time, keeping smiling or letting small smiles out every now and then and, which stunned them the most, the moments when his phone vibrated and he smiled before leaving the room to answer it. The fact that he smiled? Almost impossible. The fact that he actually took the call? A straight-out miracle. Damian almost never answered his phone, be it over text or call, unless it was his father, Alfred or if he knew it was important and was spammed enough by whoever wanted him to answer. Now, in theory, it might have been, in fact, Bruce who was calling him - even though that wouldn’t explain the smiles - but a key piece of evidence that disputed that was the fact that more than once Bruce was inside the room when it happened. So that eliminated him as a subject. Alfred was out of the question for obvious reasons and Damian’s siblings weren’t even on the list. So who could it actually be? It had to be an outsider, right? “Maybe it’s Jon? Or Billy?” Tim suggested as he sat on the Batcomputer and talked to his siblings who were on patrol. Damian had been grounded for the day earlier because he almost punched a lady in the grocery shop and Bruce was with the league. “Nah, I don’t think so,” Steph replied over the sound of punches being thrown and a man groaning until there was a ‘thump’ and it was silent again. “Yeah, me neither,” Dick agreed, “I mean he’d sell Billy for a single cent and even if he confesses that he’s actually friends with Jon, he wouldn’t smile at or because of him to save his life.” “Right, well that’s all I had,” Tim shrugged and typed away on the keyboard while half-mindedly listening to his siblings discusses the matter over the coms. He was about to stand up, and make himself a cup of coffee when something in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. “Guys,” he smirked and sent them all a screenshot of one of his surveillance monitors, “You are not gonna believe that.”

“I’ve got my eyes on the prize,” Jason whispered happily while sitting on his parked bike, dressed in his civilian clothes, and spectating a very suspicious Damian walking through the streets of Gotham City in a black hoodie and black pants as if he tried to impersonate any wannabe robber in a Hollywood movie, the hood drawn over his face. “Anything suspicious yet,” Steph asked, he tone still slightly annoyed with the fact that she wasn’t the one to follow Damian because she was on patrol and had to leave it to Jason and Cas. “For Damian? Not really, nothing unusual yet. Isn’t the first time he sneaked out and it sure as hell won’t be the last time.” Jason watched as his little brother looked around as if he was being followed - which admittedly he was - but Jason and Cas, who was taking the roof-route, even though she too was in her civilian clothes, were careful enough not to let him catch them. “You see that?” Cas asked him and the two of them watched as Damian got his phone out, smiled a little, stuffed it back into his hoodie pocket and entered a small café, not the kind of place that Damian would usually go into. “Now that is… interesting,” Jason muttered to no one in particular and quickly gave Cas a nod who came jumping down from the fire escape of the building a few feet away from him. He got off of his vehicle and put on some shades and a baseball cap to keep himself somewhat incognito, before crossing the streets and entering the establishment himself, making sure to keep out of Damian’s sight and slipping into a booth in the corner from where he could see his brother’s back turned to him. A few minutes passed before anything happened- except for Cas who slipped into the seat opposite him in silence, and they started to wonder what Damian was doing there. It looked like he was waiting for something to happen, or rather someone if you took the untouched steaming cup in front of him into account, but he didn’t seem impatient or annoyed or any of the other things he usually was with even the smallest things. They couldn’t see his expression or his face, but he once again pulled out his phone when he received a call and even with only his backside in view both Jason and Cas could make out the bright expression that painted his face. He turned around in his seat and Jason laid his chin into his hand, elbow on the table, to hide as much of his face as possible, and Cas turned as far as possible without looking unsuspicious. Because of this Cas missed what Jason was able to see. She missed the girl that stepped into the cafe with her phone against her ear. She was around Damian’s age and wrapped into a trenchcoat along with a scarf that looked just a little bit too much like the one Damian had bought a few weeks earlier on a fair Dick had dragged him to. Back then he hadn’t explained himself, only scoffing at his siblings’ comments about it and they all just made up their own theories. that it maybe was a gift for Steph’s upcoming birthday, or that it was maybe supposed to be something to strangle someone with. The girl looked around the café and her already shining eyes got even more bright when they landed on Mister grumpy who had stood up at this point. she lowered the phone and almost jumped over to where Damian was standing, falling into his open arms, giggling quietly. “What the-” Jason muttered, prompting his sister to follow his gaze only to almost freeze on the spot when catching the sight. The girl and Damian managed to tear away from each other’s arms and slip into the booth that Damian had occupied earlier. She took a sip of the drink Damian had ordered for her and seemed to thank her from what Jason could read from her lips. He couldn’t read Damian’s lips with his brothers back turned to him, but whatever he said made the girl blush immensely and shyly turn her head away, causing a strand of her y/h/c hair to fall into her face. Cas and Jason couldn’t stop staring at the two of them, the whole scene so surreal. It was Damian Wayne they were seeing there, the ‘Don’t touch me I’ll bite off your fingers one after another’ Damian Wayne. And he had hugged this girl like his life depended on it and now, this was maybe the weirdest thing yet, he reached over the table to brush the hair out of the girls face, but instead of pulling the hand back again, he cupped her cheek and she practically melted into his touch. “Jason, don’t-” Cas tried to hold Jay back when he stood up and started to make his way over to the other booth, but he didn’t let himself be stopped so the only thing Cassandra could do was to go along with it. The girl who sat facing their direction caught sight of them first and seemed - understandably so - confused when the extremely tall man with the shades and baseball cap and the girl that she could swear looked familiar walked right over to them and stepped beside their table. That was when Damian noticed her distracted eyes and followed them only to let that look of being caught flash over his face before he quickly hid it under a facade of annoyance. He pulled his hand away from the girl’s cheek, but left it in front of her on the table, ready to grab her hand at any given moment. “What are you doing here, Todd?” he asked, clearly not fooled by his disguise, before turning to his sister, “And you Cain? I expected this from an imbecile like him, but I had higher expectations in you.” “Damian who are-” the girl tried to ask, but was interrupted by Jason. “You’re one to talk Brat, I very clearly remember the old man grounding you so guess how surprised I was to see you here.” “Wait, Dami you’re groun-” “This is none of your business Todd, leave us alone,” Damian scoffed and balled the hand that wasn’t near the girls into a fist. “Hmm,” Jason acted like he was thinking about it, but it was clear for everyone involved that it was nothing but an act, “Nah, I don’t think so.” Much to the dismay of a by now very, very annoyed Damian he pushed him further into the booth to the windows and let himself fall onto the couch-like seat beside him, now directing his attention to Damian’s friend. Cas send the girl a sorry smile before slipping into the seat beside her. “Todd? What are you do-” Damian wanted to ask, but Jason shushed him. “You don’t want Bruce to find out you sneaked out?” he asked and was validated by the silence that followed from his little brother, “Well then, I guess this is gonna be an interesting evening then, mind introducing me to your-” he seemed to search for the appropriate word, “-Companion?” The girl was utterly confused by now and switched looking over the faces of the people surrounding her only to land on Damian’s when he took ahold of her hand and pushed it like he was trying to silently apologize. “This is Y/N, she’s my girlfriend. Y/n, this idiot is Jason Todd, unfortunately, my older brother, and Cassandra, my sister,” he introduced and the eyes of everyone involved widened. “You have a lot to explaining to do young man…”

[planetdream]

I'm doing good!! Actually much better because I was in a depression slump for three weeks since the middle of February (I lost my wallet sobs) and there's one more week to Easter so I can't wait hehe

gonna miss the sun setting at 5pm though :(

glad to know you're doing well!!

also sksksksksk AM REMINDED OF THE COLLAB EVENT I NEED TO SIT DOWN AND THINK ABOUT IT SERIOUSLY BUT I'M BAGGING THE SEUNGMIN SPOT PERIODT

I was thinking,,,,,the lowest setting sksksksk because it do be soft domestic hours and Seungmin just scrolling mindlessly on his phone while you're spaced out, but if it's the highest setting sksksksk Seungmin just having you spaced out on his lap entertaining you ahhhhhh

also I imagine boy being absolutely stoic-faced??? until he cums??? like bestie you're being overstimulated and essentially being forced to milk him and either he just buries his face into your neck when he does it or,,,there's the tiniest flicker of change across his face I'm just such a massive simp for this man pls I cannot -

- seong

finally getting around to this im SO sorry 😭 but im happy to hear that you're doing good and that things have been better for you!! also sorry to hear that you lost your wallet :(

you're gonna miss the sun setting at 5??? that so wild because i HATE that so much 😭😭 im so glad the suns been setting later lately, i finally feel like a human being. and as for the collab event—i saved your spot for seungmin so just let me know what mv you choose <3

and aaaaaaa that sounds like such a treat rn.. idk maybe it's bc im insanely touch starved and in dire need of a physically emotional connection—ANYWAYS...cockwarming minnie with the vibrator on the lowest setting and the both of you are just...in your own little worlds. words don't need to be spoken, and seungmin is content scrolling on his phone. you're just coming over and over, all around him. and you'd think he'd somehow be ignoring the way you clench around him, but minute by minute he's just succumbing to the feeling of you. def buries his face into your neck when he cums just to silent his moans a bit :(( want him BADLY

[blorbosexterminator]

Hey there! I read A Spanish Tale and I loved it so much thus far, and I am super excited about the chapters that are yet to come!!! One of my favourite parts will have to be when Martín and Andrés are discussing about the real handcuffs and rope (I literally laughed so hard). That scene, combined with the things you have said about them being switches (100% agreed btw), made me wonder: what other, ehh, NSWF,,, headcanons do you have about them, if you have any (and if you're comfortable answering that question)?

Also, whilst writing this ask, I suddenly remembered how Andrés once said (I think in season 1 episode 8, but I'm not very sure, definitely in season 1 though) how he'd rather that Tokyo would visit him wearing a corset instead of a bulletproof vest. I personally can't really see Martín wearing one though, so I now headcanon Andrés as having a corset kink and he'll have to suffer through the pain of it himself, because Martín refuses to sksksksksk (and now I'll try and go back to being, like... a functional human with normal thoughts ewbfvueiwhe)

Hi! So sorry for how late this is. I'm so glad you liked the Ramadan Telenovela (and hope you liked the last chapters) thanks a lot!

Ah, so happy you did! Still surprised (and appreciative of) at how well-received this part was!

I don't think I have a lot of headcanons about their sex life. Mainly because I think, before each-other at least, both of them are pretty....basic. lmfao. Like with Martín, the impression I got from him was that sex for him is just something to get over with, get it done quickly and clears his head or whatever, while with Andrés I tend to think the way he approached sex was to just "prove" himself and his manliness, whatever the fuck that means, and he prioritized that even over his own pleasure; he gets there to try and impress but also while remaining in the pretty vanilla category, maybe with some teasful playing here and there. BUT I do believe that once they get together and Andrés accepts the relationship fully, both would want to try everything with the other, and this time putting much more meaning to it, I guess.

Having said that, some of my preferred headcanons for the after:

That they are turned on by the other being a bit bloodied

They can't get in a "scene" in the strict meaning of the world because they both constantly ruin the roleplay

Andres is super into it when Martin is in a military uniform

While they are excited to try out different things and positions, both are men nearing on their fifties who haven't done any form of exercising for the longest time and just absolutely not fit for it anymore, which results in them breaking down laughing in the middle of it all the time.

Martín makes up tons of shit about gay sex just to see how far Andrés would believe him.

I don't have more at the moment. Honestly with headcanons and the like, I come up with them either when they hit me out of nowhere or during writing.

As for the corset thing, I LOVE this, and also if you're interested in seeing Andrés in a corset, I 100% recommend you to check out Rocinan's Pretty Face, Electric Grace. Not only will find all of your heart desires, but also, in the accompanying series in the same universe, you get to see Andrés put Martín in a dress and it's as perfect as you can imagine, as you predicted Martín does refuse to put on a corset, but Andrés is in one, so a delight for us all. Please don't afshsj and keep those thoughts coming at me!

[marvelsdc22]

The Professor And I Season 2 (pt. 17)

Intro: Y’all really thought I’d be that evil and leave you on that type of cliffhanger, huh? Sksksksksk, here’s the true last chapter, enjoy ~

Note: Y/N has to learn to cope with everything that happened, them and Lena reconcile, we find out what exactly happened to Kara.

Word Count: 915

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Red… That’s all you saw; Dominguez had done it and your father was now bleeding on the ground in front of him as Dominguez held his hands up in surrender when the cops arrived “No!” You cried, slowly falling to the ground with Lena holding onto you tightly “Let me go” you sobbed, quickly going over to your father and taking his hand “Dad-“ “This… Is not… Your fault” your father struggled, looking at you and giving your hand a small squeeze “But it is… I’m so sorry” you said, wishing you could do something as you looked at him “No need… I love you… Tell your mom… The same” he managed before you saw the light leave his eyes “No…” you cried, shaking him some in an attempt to wake him “Dad!” You cried, all but collapsing when you rested your head on his chest, feeling hands on your back but you didn’t care, your dad was gone.

When you got to the hospital, you were taken into a room and were put back on your I.V.s and whatever else you needed, you didn’t fight it, you didn’t have the energy or the will to fight it “Y/N… Talk to me” Lena said softly, her being the only one in the room with you since Alex and Maggie were with Kara and Lara was getting checked out herself “What is there to say? My dad’s dead… The one thing I tried to prevent” you said softly, knowing you would blame yourself for this the rest of your life “Honey… It’s not your fault, you did all that you could” Lena said, going and taking your hand, your eyes starting to feel droopy “It wasn’t enough” you whispered before letting the drugs drag you into a dreamless sleep.

When you woke up, you saw Lena curled up in the very uncomfortable looking chair by your bed while your mother sat in the corner of your room, staring blankly at the wall across from her “Mom?” You asked softly, watching as she looked at you and gave you a sad smile before slowly going over to you “Hey, baby… How are you feeling?” She asked, her voice scratchy from crying and her brushing some hair out of your face “I’m so sorry” you said, completely ignoring her question and watching as she bit her lip “It’s not your fault, your father was always apart of a dangerous family” she said, pulling a chair up by your bed and willing to tell you as much as needed to get you to understand that this wasn’t your fault, but she knew that it might never happen, you had your father’s stubbornness, no matter how much she wished you didn’t sometimes.

A few days later, Lena was helping you get ready for the funeral, the doctors letting you be released for the day so you could attend “How’s Kara?” You asked as Lena kneeled down to tie your shoes, you still struggling to tie them with one hand “They still don’t know what Dominguez injected her with, but they’re going to keep trying… For now she’s sedated” Lena said, glancing up at you and the two of you having started to make amends over the past few days “That’s good” you said softly, sniffling some and quickly wiping your eyes, stopping when Lena gently cupped your cheek “Are you okay?” She asked, clearly worried about you as she looked at you “No” you said honestly, not going into any further explanation and Lena wasn’t going to force you, so she went back to helping you dress.

The funeral… Was rough, you never thought you would lose either of your parents this early, you were only 21 years old, you thought you had a lot more years than you did before one of them died, but now here you were, at your father’s funeral… And it was your fault, at least that’s what you thought, getting pulled out of your thoughts when Lena laced her fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze while Alex rested her hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze as well, you knowing this was going to be hard to get through, but both you and your mom had a great support system.

A few weeks later, you were getting ready to leave the hospital since your stitches were out and you’d be getting molded for a prosthetic in the coming week, you were going to be living with Lena for the time being since none of them wanted you on your own while you were still getting used to having one arm, looking over at the door when it opened and you saw Alex standing there, looking worried “They think they might know what Kara was injected with…”

Walking with Alex, you listened to her as she explained that they had looked at the stuff you had in the vial from the lab and discovered that it matched what they found in Kara’s blood “What are you saying, Alex?” You asked, looking at her and stopping when she stopped in front of Kara’s door “Kara has powers” she said, opening the door and watching as you looked in the room, barely dodging out of the way when a laser shot out at you guys “Kara?” You asked, looking in the room and seeing her glaring at you guys with red eyes… This was going to be a long next few months.

To be continued...(Yes, I mean it this time)

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End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed it!! If you would like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!!

Requests Open

[ajokeformur-ray]

Introducing - Dr. Hannibal and Mrs. Erika Lecter.

Self - shipping game (started by @jokersspookyhyena​; thank you for the tag, darling!💗)

I’m really nervous about posting this because Hannibal is...  very special to me. The bond we share is on a similar level to the one I have with Joker. The only real difference is the length of time; Hannibal has been with me for far longer. I love him so much that it hurts and I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am without him.

PLEASE NOTE - 

Mentions of abuse, dissociation and passive suicidal tendencies - unspecified, just named as listed. It’s relevant and almost central to our relationship. If you want to skip this bit, it’s the question asking his favourite things about me, specifically. Every other question is safe, loves! My connection to him is raw, and so are my answers.

Word count: 2, 450 (uhhh... woops??)

When did you get together/how long have you known them?

Hannibal and I go way back. I have known Hannibal Lecter, as a character across all forms of media, since I was thirteen, but NBC’s Hannibal I met when I was shy of eighteen. I adore all portrayals of Hannibal Lecter, but this Hannibal is my most favourite one. Not because Mads Mikkelsen is outrageously attractive, although that’s also true, but because in him I found solace, peace, acceptance, understanding... and safety, in more ways than one. Over the course of the time we’ve known each other, our dynamic has always changed and it’s grown with me. As I’ve gotten older, the dynamic has become increasingly romantic. When I look back on my life, Hannibal’s always been with me, and thank goodness because I wouldn’t be who I am today without him. I am so grateful to and for him for so many reasons it’d be impossible to list them all.

Nicknames, both yours for them and theirs for you!

Sksksksksk I annoy Hannibal with all my nicknames for him: Hanni is the one I use for everything, more than his own name, pretty Hanni when I want cuddles but I’m too shy to actually say, my love when I’m feeling tender for him (all the time) sometimes I’ll combine nicknames and say; Hanni, my love. Sometimes I call him my precious cannibal... that’s for our most romantic moments, though. When I’m talking to others about him, I usually attach “my” to the front of his name. He’s not mine, of course, and I don’t own him and he doesn’t belong to me, but the bond which we have is mine, and this is an important distinction.

Hannibal doesn’t have many nicknames for me. He most often calls me by my name, little fawn/doe when I’m especially skittish or he makes me accidentally jump (it’s not hard to do, though it’s not fun for him because it takes ages for me to calm down), dearest, my love, and the most recent addition is, phoenix or my phoenix... I wrote about that here if you want to read about why he calls me that!

Who’s on top?

Hannibal, most often. He likes to push, destroy and reset boundaries in his own image, though, so sometimes he’ll make me go on top just to see what I do. Spoilers: I always nuzzle my face into the warm crook of his neck, lock my arms and legs around him, and close my eyes. If Hannibal desires for anything sexual, then he has to roll me to be underneath him because once I’m on him, all I want is the safe cage of his embrace (though, on the rare occasions I get... amorous, I just aim my hips downwards every time I shift to get comfortable. It’s subtle enough to be missed, but Hannibal knows me and his chuckle rumbles through his chest and it always makes me smile).

Who is more protective?

Mmm... Hannibal, I would say. I don’t take the best care of myself and Hannibal often has to help me. Erika, don’t you think you should eat something? It has been several hours and you don’t want to get a stomach ache from not eating for so long, do you? and other such less than subtle reminders. 

However, I’m not totally helpless and if anyone hurts my Hanni, then oooooooh, this fawn bares her teeth. You do not touch my Hanni. I may be afraid of confrontation and of raised voices, but if I catch wind of anyone targeting Hannibal, then none of that matters. Good luck taking Hannibal to prison, Jack, I’mma square up and you better be ready to catch these hands. 

Who said ‘I love you’ first?

Meeeee ~ , I did!!!!! Because I knew him so young, for about six years of our friendship, I used to just say “I love you” and Hannibal would smile patiently but otherwise not encourage anything, for obvious reasons. But one day, I said I loved him and Hannibal gave me the time old reaction. “No, Hanni, listen. I love you.” He blinked once, twice, smiled... and still didn’t say it back. But that’s okay - I like to think that he loves me too. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. He’s Hannibal Lecter, who knows? If it’s a moment which needs for him to say it back, he’ll most often say, “and I, you.” It’s close enough.

Who does the household chores? Including cleaning, cooking, anything around the house.

Hanni and I split everything. I live with him and he refuses to let me pay rent or for food and the like (I have something of a guilt complex so I always feel bad for 'taking’ anything without giving something back, which is usually more than what I was initially given), so instead if something needs doing, I’ll do it without saying anything. Hannibal is incredibly self-sufficient and I stay out of his kitchen (I can cook well enough but Hannibal’s Japanese knives scare me so I stay out of the way and he’s very particular about the order of things in his kitchen), and I don’t go in his office either, but the rest of our home is mine to do whatever I want with. Sometimes I’ll deliberately stay out of his way and when he comes a-running (but not to help), he finds I’ve done odd jobs here and there around the home. He doesn’t thank me for it, he knows I don’t want that, so he dips his chin and eyes me with those gorgeous chocolate eyes, and I know I’ve earned myself a cuddle session later. Both of us know that that’s what I was after the entire time, though neither of us addresses it. He’s taught me well. A bit too well, he sometimes thinks.

Who gets hurt more often?

Me 😂 I have been known to trip over my own foot standing still and it’s not unusual for me to stand up and to sway as I try to find my balance and for Hanni to reach up to grasp my wrist until I’ve settled. It’s embarrassing and my cheeks always go bright red from blushing, but the heat of his hand seeps into my skin and I can’t tell which of the two body parts burns more. Sometimes his touch lingers on my skin and I end up sitting back down, not wanting to leave my precious cannibal. This was what Hannibal wanted the entire time and we both know it but we don’t address it, and I realise that either I’m becoming more like him, or he’s starting to adopt some of my own mannerisms. You and I have begun to blur is something Will once said to Hannibal, but it’s not a wholly exclusive sentiment. There are aspects of me which are because of Hannibal and we both know it.

How do you sleep?

I don’t, not without my Hanni. He most often lays on his back and lets me settle myself half on his body and half off. One of my legs stretches across his body so that my inner knee is pressed to his outer hip and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. My face finds its way either into his chest so I can hear his heartbeat and feel the rumble of his voice in my ear, or pressed into the warm crook of his neck so I can feel his pulse against my skin and know that he is alive and safe. When at last do I fall asleep, for it takes me a long time to settle and to get comfortable (seven hundred position changes and a sacrifice to Satan), Hannibal turns off the light he allows me while I fall asleep (if I wake up in the dark, I’ll be scared to the point of a panic attack and then he will wake and comfort me. This increases my trust in him and further ensures that I won’t leave him. We both know he does this but again, it’s not addressed. I trust him implicitly, which again... is all a part of his plan.) and then he turns onto his side with me pressed tightly to his chest.

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, when Hannibal has been hurt or if he’s sick, he likes to lay atop me and our positions are the same as above, but reversed. So he’s the one clinging onto me and I am the one on my back, protecting my pretty Hanni from all who seek to do him harm or to take his freedom away from him... that’s something I’d never condemn him to. I love him far too much to ever put him through that. Beasts belong out in the wild, do they not?

Fears?

Hannibal fears having his freedom taken away from him, he fears being completely vulnerable, he fears never being understood... his fears are bigger than me, so I can only love him as hard as I can every single day, without hesitation, thought or fault.

And, well... I have lots of fears. My biggest fears are the dark and... certain physical illnesses and Hannibal has offered multiple times to get me a suitable therapist, but I refuse every time. I have my Hanni, so I have everything.💖 He knows me and he knows that if he just stays, I’ll even lay in the pitch darkness for him... if he just stays. So he stays and, oh, my fear smells delicious and he craves more... so I crave his closeness and on it goes. We kind of... led each other into this relationship but looking back, I definitely don’t want it any other way. I’m not sure about Hannibal. 

Favorite physical and personal feature about them?

I love all of Hannibal, but his eyes are the warmest pools of chocolate I’ve  ever seen. I like to cup his face in my hands, especially when we’re sat in his study by the fire, and I like to get very close to him so that my nose is touching his and I just look into his eyes, the soft orange glow of the fire giving his dark irises a red tint... he has the eyes of a shark. 

And that voice... asdfghjk 🥵🥵🥵 many a panic attack has been stopped before it’s started, many a nightmare soothed, by even one word. Hanni has to be careful what he asks of me because he knows that I won’t ever say no to him, but that was all a part of his plan... so long as I love him, I am useful to him. I lost all of myself once and Hanni helped me to find her. His voice led the way, it called out to the darkness in me, and I could only answer his call. He saved me.

And I love his hair... especially in the mornings when it brushes against his eye lashes, I... I just love him.🥺🥺🥺

My favourite personal feature of Hannibal’s is his mind. His psyche is an ocean with murky, never before charted depths, and I long to dive in at the deepest part and to never resurface. I long for his tongue to cut into me, for his words to slice me apart, and then for him to submerge me in the depths of his mind, in the depths of the love he may have for me, and to soothe away the metaphorical wounds I inflict upon myself daily (my inner voice most often sounds like my abusers, try as I might). I long to become one with my cannibal so that never are we torn asunder.

Their favorite physical and personal feature about you?

Mmm... this one is really hard to answer because I am not, ah... favourable of myself in any way. My dress just rode up to my thigh, though, and I can literally see the answer: my tattoo. A few years ago, something terrible happened and as a result, I dissociated to the point of barely functioning and I experienced passive suicidal ideation for a long time even after I escaped that situation (Hanni is the reason I left that, too). Instead of giving into that, though, I designed and then got a tattoo and though I wanted to die, Hannibal made me feel alive that day. Though I know that Hannibal doesn’t like his meat branded (😂), I also know that he loves my tattoo. It’s a physical mark of my love and my devotion to him, and of course it strokes his ego. He quite literally saved my life and I wanted to immortalise that instead of destroying myself further.

Even if I do say so myself, she’s gorgeous:

His favourite personal feature about me is the fact that I see him. I know exactly who Hanni is. I know what he’s done. I know what he’s capable of. I know his past, his present, and I see who he is. I can look at him and guess within an accurate measure as to his thoughts and feelings. I see him and I know him and I love him genuinely, with everything that I am. There have been multiple points in my life where I’ve lived for him in a very raw and real way, and he knows that. Hanni is a rare gift and by some stroke of luck, I was given him. I’ll never be able to repay him for his kindness.

Something intimate you do together?

We lay together. Not just cuddling like I answered in a different question, but we talk. About anything and everything. Hannibal listens more than he speaks up until he notices I’m getting tired, and then he speaks and I listen. He’ll cite Dante in Italian or quote Shakespeare, he’ll talk about Schrodinger's theory or answer my question do killed spiders become ghosts? And we spend that time together. There’s an intimacy not just in naked bodies but in bared souls too, and when both forms happen at the same time? It’s the purest, rawest intimacy he and I are capable of. And it happens nightly - no exceptions.

Who needs more TLC when sick?

Hanni rarely gets sick or injured, so this is me again. I usually work as best as I can through my sickness and I’ll tell him that I’m fine, I don’t need anything... but he takes care of me because he knows I want him to, even if I won’t say it. I’m the kind of person who longs to be wholly self-sufficient and independent, and I can do it, too, but I soften considerably when someone treats me the way I treat them and it almost always makes me cry, no matter who they are. I’ve learned to be strong so when I’m taken care of, I don’t know how to handle it... but Hanni does. Hanni has seen me at my best, at my worst, at my worst and everything in between, and he can handle all of me. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p6

a/n: so the words just flew out and boy. much thanks to all who read and commented and reblogged/liked! im sorry ahead of time! it will get uptempo again.optimism, babes.

You stood in the console room in wait, you had no clue the punishment that lay waiting. You didn’t know what was going to happen and that was worse than knowing. There had to be worse consequences for a consummate freak out that bordered on betrayal. 

For a snap you thought of just reverting back to being her companion just to smooth things over. To stop all the madness that was bound to ensue. But you didn’t. You held your ground, despite having to run away. 

You shivered involuntarily. You felt like a freezer that happened to be left open all night. You let yourself be crippled by everything. Seeing them left you blindsided, if you were a quarterback it’d have been a sack at the tenth yard line. 

Did that make the Master the coach?

You ended up stripping off your blazer and leaning over the console, mildly hyperventilating. Your arms glistening with sweat in the ambient lights. 

The door swung open and you hunched up. Jaw clenched your ringing in your ear came back, drowning all else out. 

You swore he was speaking but your mind was so swirled with thoughts and crackles and the persistent ring you ended up trying, “Get on with it, punish me. Kill me. You know I’m no good to you now.” but it came out garbled, as if you suffered a stroke. 

Maybe you did. 

You started a brief list of stroke symptoms but decided, was no use. If he was going to do what you thought, he’d probably use your own laser screwdriver against you. 

You suddenly remembered ages ago yourself in a similar situation. You disrespected him. You’d’ve done it three times now. 

If going by the sudden need for sports metaphors you were currently riding, third strike- you’re out. 

He wasn’t doing anything and that drove you absolutely insane. Clutching your sides, you spun around and met his eyes. Those eyes, so large and so beautiful and emotive were virtually unreadable. Your vision was getting blurry and your eyes started stinging. You were aghast with the day. It was a simple scheme. How could it go so wrong. You had heartburn. The acid was rising in your stomach and you tried to not hurl. The anticipation was getting to you on all levels. 

You elected to allow yourself to black out. You were headed that way, so you just gave into it without a fight. 

When you came to, you found yourself at your house, on your couch. Your favorite mug with your favorite tea blend was waiting for you and across the room leaning on your wall was him.

The Master. Your Master.

“Nice touch, passing out. Noble even.” His eyes yet again unreadable voids. 

Your head pounded and the back of your skull was a dull pain. 

You did notice and take appreciation from the pillows cupping you and your feet up.

“We need to talk.” His voice was just as unreadable as his eyes. The sentence flooded your throat and dropped into your stomach. You clenched your eyes and relaxed your jaw as you brought yourself up and cupped the mug gingerly. 

“Thank you.” You gave him a meager smile in genuine thanks. 

“Don’t think of it.” He waved it off.

He was uncharacteristically devoid of emotion or passion. Stoic. 

You took a few sips, letting the warmth and the taste give you strength and some comfort. You had lots of experience where this was going. Why fight it? He was an ageless alien and you were a human. The fact that he gave you all you got was phenomenal. 

You could feel your heart stop when you put it down. The silence was starting to get to you.

“I need some time.” He murmured, voice silky. 

“How long?” You hoarsely whispered. 

“No clue. I just need to process this.” 

What was processing time? Feasibly for him? You could be just here for a few moments and he could have taken centuries. Or he could have taken a day or 36 hours and you could already be dead. 

Maybe he was just telling you this to shake you off and stop more damage. 

You wanted to fight him on it. But how? Your jaw unlocked and lay slack. 

“You have a concussion. I’ve dealt with the necessary care. I put some pills that’ll take a week to heal you up properly.” He pointed towards the vicinity of your bathroom before pushing off your wall and headed towards a curio cabinet you really didn’t notice until now. 

Obviously, more than a week.

“Text me?” You said.

“Maybe.” He looked at you, his eyes were big and seemed filled with nothing but agony and resolve. 

You swore you saw his mouth move and a whisper of something you couldn’t make out. A different language.

He stepped in and the curio cabinet vanished from your living room. 

You leaned back, the Fam mentioned that your place was dusty, but obviously he must have broken out the dust buster. That was sweet of him to take care of the place before you were unceremoniously dumped on your ass. You went for your neck. The collar that you usually stroked in times of stress was gone, along with him. 

What was the date? You had no clue. Days passed, flooding into weeks. This agony of not knowing outweighed anything. You vaguely remembered the Covid-19 “shelter at home” but that was truly another life entirely. 

Twenty-twenty passed on and you had to get a new job, but nothing seemed to take for you. You’d either get fired for lackadaise or not showing up or quit out of the blue because you felt deep down you deserved better. Dozens of civilizations across the stars probably still spoke of you in hushed tones as a haughty goddess, or Queen sent by the divine. 

The nights were the roughest. A few times the cops were called because you were wailing in your sleep. They soon just stopped coming, unless your neighbors just accepted it as the new normal. 

If you could joke, and if you were in a joking mood, you’d probably remark how this was just like Bella Swan in New Moon “sksksksksk jksk lol!” But you weren’t anymore. You weren’t in a joking mood no matter what at the time. 

Life, without the Master, simply wasn’t worth living.

How could you go back? After all those stars seen? People met? And emotions felt. 

You felt your heart harden and break. 

You half thought of trying to push through the pain and see if you could somehow contact him. At least see if he was okay. Especially since you overheard the news at a metal bar you started working at that some strange lights followed by a subsonic explosion happened in a small city far away and there were confusing footages being leaked on social media of Daleks and death. It went away in a day, but still. You swore you heard a TARDIS in a few of the Facebook Lives people did as they died.  People thought it was a hoax. People were so dumb.

It made you ache. 

Maybe it was the Doctor, or the Master convincing them to go destroy somewhere more important. 

It was more likely her. 

You didn’t know which one would be worse, just in case more footage was released and you saw a flash of a face. 

You broke again, dropping the heavy drink laden tray on the ground and locking yourself in the walk-in fridge. Rackus sobbing came out of your chest like a snarling animal. You had to get yourself together before you lost the only job you made good tips at. You knew it was purely because the uniform was trampy, and not your sparkling personality or wit. You placed your head between your thighs and screamed through it, trying to see if that would stop you from your tears. It was literally more time that had passed than you had actually ran away with him at this point. 

You should have moved on. If not moved on, repress it enough to worry any mental health specialist. This wasn’t like you.

So you tried therapy. 

The big mistake there was dumbing it down and humanizing the Master and the Doctor so you didn’t sound like you needed inpatient care or to go on some watchlist somewhere in the universe. Let alone your planet. 

Some people somewhere might want to abduct you and harvest your organs for the residual artron energy. That could be valuable on certain markets. 

Or your brainwaves. Some planets would pay rogue Time Agents to harvest them and the knowledge you knew and technology you learned.

You became more skittish when walking at night. You had gotten so used to just blasting anyone who’d try to wrong you with your screwdriver. It was a crutch you missed. Every moving shadow scared you.

You also had to consider someone, somewhere might be angry enough with him enough and see that his little human whore was no longer velcroed to his side and go look for you. Penance for his actions, delivered unto you.

Not like he would care, obviously he was far gone and far away.

Your manager came in and gave a quick look at the sight before him.

“Why are you in here? People at table 6 were complaining. Had to give them vouchers and comp their bill.”

You wiped your eyes and got out from your hutched state, “The news. So much death.” You snorted up the snot threatening to leak out. 

Strange cognitive dissonance coming from someone who aided in toppling empires and had a past of executing people.

It wasn’t that, but my goodness, you had to sell it. It was a human thing to say.

“Oh, wow. I’ll give you a minute, then get back to work.” He closed the door gently and let you be. 

You paced and paced and thought, “What would he do?” But all the answers involved space tech you didn’t have in a five by eight cooler. Or loud theatrics and sass. 

You had none of those. 

For the first time in a while, you went to your neck and rubbed at it, wishing you still belonged to him, and you knew what to do. Anger flooded through you and honestly, you didn’t know who it was directed at. The anger felt good. A blistering difference to the waves of agony and silence in you.

You bratted off and knocked down a row of premade salsas and stomped out before heading to table 6. 

“Oh, so you didn’t fancy me dropping the drinks? Or whatever? You were complaining about the shape of the wings earlier? Anything else, your highnesses,“ You false curtsied before straightening out and untying your apron and tossing it on the ground, “Anything?” You spat.

They recoiled. 

The paunchy middle aged man asked, “What the fucks your problem? Like, what do you want? Cause you’re definitely not getting a tip now?”

An idea shot into your brain, “What do I want?” You jabbed a finger at yourself, “I want you to kneel!” You pointed at him and made a vague “get down” gesture with your index finger. 

“Kneel?”

“Kneel!” You ordered, all the chutzpah of a former self radiating through. You tossed a glass at that man’s head. It was no laser to the stomach but would do the trick. “I said, kneel for me, love.” 

The blood streaming from his head as he obeyed you, his fatty neck blubbering in pain and tears streaming down his face filled you with nostalgia. It felt good to be in this position again. Someone obeying you, the fear in their eyes, the sense of power it gave you knowing that you held the keys to their fate in your hands. A small pool of wetness nearly started between your thighs. Power was just so good, and feeling the fear come to him? Icing on a perverse cake.

Him kneeling was almost as natural as it felt for you to kneel ages ago. A labored, pleased breath escaped your lungs as you smiled and let off a laugh.

You turned to your manager and gave a grimace, “I quit, I just can’t take the pressure, dock my pay for the damages. Bye.”

You grabbed your stuff from behind the bar and ran out again from yet another job. 

At the back of your brain, you knew that possibly you’d go to prison for this. You assaulted a man. Out here in the real world, not the magic little world of madness, assault meant fines, sharing a prison cell with someone called Big Irma, ugly orange jumpsuits and a permanent record. Something that would prevent you from life.

Not that you had a life anymore. 

You arrived home and finally allowed yourself to let out all the true amount of tears you felt. You fell asleep on the linoleum of your entrance hall waiting for the cops to show up and take you away.

You were out for over a day, you woke up so sore and dehydrated. 

But the brunt of your emotions, you felt were over. 

You knew you had to consolidate who you were, who you had been, and where you were now. Make yourself one person, not a section of phases altered by the presence of Time Lords. 

But who were you before you’d met the Doctor and been the Master’s? 

That was the hard part.

Jogging that memory up.

You massaged your temples and went over to chug water directly from the kitchen faucet.

A normal human just couldn’t force people to follow their every whim. Or flit from here or there. 

Well, unless they were a politician or born to extreme wealth. 

You needed to be able to hold down a job, you needed to move on. He wasn’t coming for you. You finally and truly got it through your thick, pathetic human skull…

You wiped the water off your face with your bare hands and ripped off the bar’s uniform. You hunched over in your kitchen and cursed the day you ever met either Time Lord. Cupping your face in your hand you let out another massive groan and shook yourself free.

Those topics were not to be verboten. 

You had a traitorous thought, unless you worked for a government organization or paramilitary that dealt with the extraterrestrial. The job prospects for that seemed slim. You were formally in league with them. People might argue a conflict of interests or claim you were a double or triple agent. There was no true way to prove to a stupid ape that, you, another stupid ape weren’t giving off trade Earth secrets to known enemies of the planet. The list of aliens on watchlists was getting larger in the 21st century by the day. The Master definitely had to be on at least most of them. If not all. Though, the money would be quite good…

It was thought.

You were Earth-bound and just had to reintegrate. There had to be some books you could read. Life, For Dummies? Men are from Gallifrey, Women are from Earth? Something, even an obnoxious celebrity and an ill-trained life coach making a podcast on how to cope with a break up. Something.There 

Easier said than done.

It had to be done, however how hard.

What a pity, what a sham.

To paraphrase a comic, you were young, shiney and dumb. Easy to fool. 

You felt yourself utter, “If I ever see you again, first I’m going to kiss you, then I’m going to kick your ass.”

You pulled yourself back from those unhealthy words and bit your tongue.

This was bound to be hard.

But not impossible...

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Ok, I was gonna ask you about something else, but after reading the part 2 of the Mic and the exchanged student, I'm in DIRE need to see the part 3 where she has to start her hero career and she, obviously, need his help(not because she is not capable of starting it by herself but because she just needs him to continue to be by her side like it always has been)! Pretty please! Thank you! 💗

A/N: SKSKSK hOw cOUlD i sAy nO to tHat prEtTy PwEasE uwu. Haha yeah totally i’ll do this. Sorry if this comes out a bit late i’m working on some things. Thanks for requesting <333 Any requests let me know!

-So you know that bonus thingy i did in the last one? Where the parents were mean and all that? Well let's continue with that story line, I feel like that’s a bit more interesting for this!

-So i feel like after everything went down, realistically your parents would have forced you to come home and not contact Hizashi. Which sucks because he was the only one that really believed in you, And Japan became like a second home, even though your japanese isn’t the best and you may not look like everyone, you grew to love it and appreciate it. The thought of going back home to your parents stormed in your stomach

-Hizashi hated the idea too, he felt like your parents were mentally abusive and he really hated the idea of you going back. He talked to you and wanted to know if you wanted to get others involved and what not so you didn’t have to go back and leave the school. But you didn’t want to go through that whole process

-Besides you were “almost an adult” and soon able to start your hero career. You somehow convinced him to let it go and have faith you’ll be okay.

-”Alright Y/N, If you ever want it, you can always have a job under me and my agency. Even if you don’t wanna be a hero, you can work on my radio show.”

-Damn leaving Present was like the hardest thing. He was like a positive father figure that you always wanted and finally got, then when everything was good it got ripped away. It hurt so badly.

-Plus present took it so hard because he felt it was his fault, ‘Why did i have to say something?’ ‘It’s all my fault’

-Going back to your home country was like heck? Your parents forced you to stop with all this “hero mess” and made you go on a “more stable” path. They took away all your devices and stuff so you can “focus” but in reality they wanted to make sure you weren’t contacting Present or looking into hero stuff.

-Damn You’re really wishing you took Present up on that offer and let him help you stay

-You couldn’t work on your quirk or train so while everyone was asleep you’d do exercises and warmups Present taught you

-In those few years you were so miserable, and all you wanted to do was go back to japan and go on the path you always wanted to. You missed Hizashi and the friends you had made, Here you were lonely and tired, but there you had so much life and happiness.

-So secretly you were saving money so as soon as you get a chance, you can get away. So occasionally you’s ask for 20 or so dollars to get “books” or “go to the mall” when in reality you were just storing the money away in your secret trust fund lol.

-By the time of graduation you had enough money saved up to go travel, thanks to the extra help of graduation money from family members of course.

-As soon as you got home you brought a ticket, reserved a hotel and packed all you bags and left to the airport by the early morning. Whew you felt as if you were running from the Feds and for some reason that gave you a rush of excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-finally you get to see Hizashi after all this time

-When you got to Japan, you went to the first place you could think of. Present’s agency. You couldn’t quite think of where else to get to him, so this was your first resort.

-Upon arriving you were so nervous. What if Hizashi didn’t even work there anymore?? What if he didn’t want to help? After all you kinda of cut him off even though you promised to keep him posted every once in a while. Although that wasn’t your fault but maybe he hated you for it?

-Either way it was too late now and you were already at the front desk, standing awkwardly standing

-“Hello dear, is there anything I can help you with?”

-“u-Ugh wEll uHhh???”

-“....“

-“....”

-“Do you have an appointment...or….”

-“nO...yeS? Haha i'm sorry, I'm looking for Hizashi Yamada. I’m an old friend and he told me to come here if I ever needed him..?”

-“...right...Your name?”

-“Y/L L/N.”

-“I don’t see you name under any notes or messages for him. By safety protocol I cannot let you up past this floor without a proper appointment or verification.”

-“Well is there anyway that I can leave him a note..with my contact and such? Or a way to set an appointment?”

-“Yes I can leave a note but I cannot guarantee he will see it and you can only make an appointment if you’re an endorser.”

-“Ah I see, Well I guess I’ll just leave a note then? Here is my name and number and can you just tell him I’m back in Japan. I need to talk to him.”

-“of course.” The lady at the front desk smiled as she finished writing the small note and moving it aside with the others

-You began to make your was towards the exit only to be stopped dead in your tracks when you heard an all too familiar voice boom through out the lobby

-“YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH WHATS UP OFFICE LAAAAADDYYYYY! ANY NEW MAIL FOR ME??? HMM HMM????”

-Turning around, your eyes met the sunflower blonde male that leaned against the counter with a Gigantic smile across his face.

-suddenly a similar smile he wore, slapped across your face as you unconsciously shouted

-“H-hizashi?!”

-instantly his eyes landed upon you, yet his award winning smile vanished and turned into a tired expression

-ugh another crazed fan waiting at the front desk for him.

-except you weren’t, you were his most favorite person on the planet. However you looked so different. And he could hardly recognize you.

-For a moment he just stared at you with the utter most bleak face, until it hit him.

-“America?”

-“Mr. Hizashi!”

-HE IS SOOOO HAPPY SKSKSKSKSKS LIKE BRO HE THOUGHT HE WOULD NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN.

-HE SMILES SO WIDE AND LITERALLY JUMP HUGS YOU

-“MRSSSS. AMERIIICAAAA.”

-he has a moment where he pulls apart and just gazes at you

-i-is that tears in his eyes??

-awww so soft

-sMotheRs yOu In kIssEs (friendly forehead ones lmao)

-He’s just so happy to see you looking healthy and safe. He loves you so much, even if it’s been years.

-“I thought something bad happened to you, I tried emailing and contacting you but no response. Oh I’m so happy I get to see you again! Are you okay? Are you hungry?? Wait let’s go talk at a restaurant.”

-So you guys go to a restaurant and talk and reconcile about the past. Apologized for not responding and talking so long to come back.

-“No worries I’m just glad your here now! How has hero work been? Signed with any major companies.”

-“Haha um actually no not yet.”

-“WHAAAAT?! What are you waiting for?? I’m sure by now your quirk skills and everything has gotten waaay better now with all the training you’ve probably had there. I’m sure you’ll get signed just like that.”

-“Actually Hizashi. The last time I actually trained or really used my quirk was the last time we trained together.”

-He literally thought you were joking. No that’s not possible that was years ago.

-“No I’m serious, my parents wouldn’t let me do hero work after all that went down and they limited the use of my quirk. These past years I’ve been studying to be a pharmacist because my parents says it’s a more realistic job for someone like me and hero work is nonsense.”

-What no? They couldn’t of held a grudge that long? No you were on such a good path to become a hero. He was sure of it. The world really needed someone to step up, with the rise of crime and he knew you could do it. So for your parents to say “nonsense” was so unbelievably stupid.

-“What?” that was all he could muster hearing your news

-“yep! And I couldn’t respond to you because my parents took away all my devices, and gave me ones that were restricted and only for school research purposes. Everything about heroes or quirks that wasn’t related to Pharmaceutical Purposes wasn’t allowed. I actually saved up cash for years and gathered up the money I got from graduation to buy a ticket and a small apartment here. Although I’m sure my parents will be hot when they noticed I left the country, but at least I’ll be thousands of miles away and safe from their antics right? Haha.”

-He was so shocked. He didn’t think him telling off your parents and protecting your from them while you were in Japan, would cause them to go to such extremes. What kind of people?

-“Y-yeah. But don’t worry I’m alive aren’t I!” You laughed out

-He smiles at your attempt of optimism and nodded in agreement

- “Do you still want to become a hero?” He asked twirling his spoon around in the soup he earlier ordered

-“W-Well yes. Actually I do a lot, this world is becoming more cruel and I really hate sitting back and seeing these innocent people who can’t fight back get hurt everyday. But I know it’s hard but It’s something I really still want to do.”

-“Okay then, Y/N I’ll train you and help you become a hero. In the moring I’ll start paper works and a letter to get you into my company under me. I’ll make sure you become the hero you always wanted to be...that I always knew you could be.”

-“Wait are you serious.”

-“Only if you are. We’ll train in the early mournings and I’ll take you with me on patrol at night so you can get a feel of what it’s like. I’ll guide you Y/N and do better than I did before. I owe it to you.”

-And after that, that’s exactly what happened

-you guys were out on a morning run by 5 and working out at the gym around noon. Around 11 at night you guys were on patrol until 3 am. And this went on for months

-He pushes you harder than you possibly knew your body could be pushed

-You your quirk became much stronger and stable.

-teaches you different techniques and gives you pointers on where to go out on patrol and how to look for suspicious behaviors

-you’re under his company and training for about a year or so before you break off and go on your own. He makes sure you’re fully confident and he knows that you’re at a good spot beforehand though.

-You actually get signed under a big company and recruited for a few others all over.

-Before you left his wing, you made sure you thanked him for everything and that he was totally fine with it

-which he was

-He’s still always beside you though. You knew in your heart you still needed his guidance and his friendship in your life, and same for him. He really adores you and doesn’t want to just say goodbye. It hurt so bad the first time, he couldn’t imagine how it would feel departing again.

- He checks up on you everyday and make sure to go out to lunch every one in awhile.

-When you’re kind of lost or stuck or need a shoulder to cry on, he’s always right there.

-“Hizashi...I don’t know. Maybe my parents were right and I’m really not cut out for this. It’s so hard and I’m so tired. I just really want to cry.”

-“Hey shh, don’t worry you’re doing great. It just gets hard sometimes but trust me it’ll get better. I’m right here for you.”

-If you parents did come back to Japan and came to harass you or what not, Hizashi is instantly there protecting you and makes sure they won’t ever do that again. You are not going back to the U.S. with them, even if he has to get the legals involved he would.

-Send little gifts to him every so often as a thank you.

-You stay in Japan for the first couple years of your hero career but then branch out a bit to different countries

-collecting Souvenirs and postcards to send back to hIzAsHI

-When you become super successful he’s like “See Y/N, what did I tell you? You’re going to be fucking great.”

[mcschnuggles]

Please share headcannons about mama Raven!!

Absolutely! Some of these were mentioned in my fic but I’m putting them here just so I can have them all in one place.

She loves to sing for the boys. Her voice is low and haunting, so when she sings lullabies, especially from older eras, it sounds like something out of a horror movie, but Krav doesn’t mind and honestly it makes Taako love her more

She doesn’t understand the modern age that well, so she always asks Taako for explanations on things she doesn’t understand. It’s never just a question either. “Taako, darling,” she’ll say, beckoning him to her chair. When he’s close enough, she’ll gently tug him into her lap, pet his hair and ask, “Darling boy, please explain to me the purpose of Fantasy PayPal” then she’ll conjure a cookie for his troubles and send him on his way.

She’s ridiculously protective of her little ones, and once she takes a liking to a kiddo, that protection extends to them. It was a little hard to convince her that Taako was cool, especially when he and Kravitz first started dating and she saw him as a distraction and an obstruction to necessary reapings, but he grew on her very quickly. He’s one of the few people she finds genuinely hilarious, but he’s never made her laugh out loud, and not for lack of trying.

on that note she absolutely loves children, she just doesn’t have the most expressive face and doesn’t show it, so most people just think she’s scary. It’s hard to get a smile out of her, but when you do, it’s magical.

She started off texting Merle just to get updates on Kravitz but they ended up hanging out and genuinely getting along.

Kravitz once jokingly says “Mom, come pick me up, I’m scared,” and she’s there in seconds.

One of her biggest fears is losing one of her reapers on a mission. The last thing she ever wants from her reapers is for them to risk their lives unnecessarily.

That being said, she’s kind of a worrywart. Merle probably has to teach her how to chill sksksksksks

Super patient. My favorite trope is that immortality makes you all kinds of patient, so I can just imagine her calmly sitting while Taako explains his Barbies to her or Kravitz talks about his long day of work. She’s also not much of a talker herself, so it’s nicest to be able to listen to such active little ones

[feelingsinthedark]

Kierarktina “fic” :3

Ok so just a disclaimer bc I’m insecure about my work all the time but this begins in a dumb weird way and kinda ends weirdly too and just everything in between is eh but I’ve spent too much time on this and I just kinda give up so enjoy maybe lol btw there are qoaad spoilers :3

dis my “masterlist” lmao

Sorry this is so long sksksksksks I would put a cut thing but I still don’t know how on mobile

***

Mark groans as he and Cristina exit the meeting, raking his fingers through his hair. Cristina looks up at him, concerned eyes searching his face, and laces her fingers through his.

“Mark?” she prompts.

He sighs and sits on one of the benches lining the street. “I’m good. Just… frustrated. Stressed.”

Cristina sits next to him. “Me, too,” she assures him. They’ve both had a long week with endless meetings in New York about the situation with the Clave-in-exile. Of course, their ideals as representatives of the Alliance are often contested by Cohort sympathizers. It’s difficult all around to keep tempers in check.

They sit in silence for a short while.

“We could go to the cottage,” Cristina says. “We don’t have any meetings this weekend.”

Mark pauses. “Would Alec be okay with that?”

“We all deserve a break. We need a break. He gets it, too. Things are winding down for now; I bet Magnus has something planned for the two of them.”

Mark stays silent. Cristina presses on, “Come on, love, we’ve been working for months with no real break. We haven’t seen Kieran in weeks. It’ll be fine.” She kisses his temple, brushing his hair away from his face.

“I just… sometimes I feel like what we’re doing is pointless,” Mark says softly. “Nothing changes, so why are we even trying?”

“Don’t think that, Mark. What we’re doing is important. The fact that nothing is changing right now doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep doing it.”

Mark turns his head and kisses her. “I know. You’re right. It’s just hard sometimes. We’ll go to the cottage.”

Cristina stands up, pulling Mark’s hand. “Good,” she says. “Let’s go tell Alec, and then we’ll go get the Eternidad.”

-

The Eternidad deposits them just outside the little cottage.

“Kieran should be here soon,” Cristina says as they walk in. “I’m going to the bathroom.” She kisses Mark quickly.

Mark sinks into the couch as Cristina leaves. He sighs again. He knows he was being a little silly yesterday, but the stress and exhaustion was just getting to his head. It was good that Cristina was there to calm him down, to talk some sense into him. And soon he will be seeing the other love of his life for the first time in forever. Cristina was right. He needs this—they need this. All three of them.

He thinks about when they told Alec they were leaving. The Consul looked up at them with tired but fierce blue eyes and immediately said that it was no problem—their work had been invaluable recently and they deserved a break. Even despite what Cristina or Alec say, though, something bugs Mark. It just doesn’t seem like he deserves a break when he hasn’t really managed to get any of the Cohort sympathizers to change their minds, or even minimize the wounding words they spit out right to the face of Downworld representatives at Alliance meetings.

Stop, he thinks to himself. You know it’s worth it, even if nothing changes right now.

He thinks about his youngest siblings, the child his sister is expecting, all the Shadowhunter and Downworlder children they’re trying to create a better world for. It is worth it.

He’s so tired that he falls asleep for a second. He wakes up to light blue hair in his face and two differently colored eyes, Kieran’s lips against his.

Kieran meets his eyes and grins. “Hello,” he says simply. He kisses him again. Mark winds his fingers through Kieran’s hair, pulling Kieran to him.

“Kier,” he breathes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you.”

After a minute Kieran breaks their kiss and turns away. “Is this bringing you joy, my lady?” he says to Cristina, seated beside him on the couch.

She chuckles and leans in to kiss him. “You know it does. I missed this.”

Suddenly, Kieran is lying on top of Mark and Cristina is straddling both of them, grinning. She kisses Mark and then Kieran again. “I love you both.”

Mark lets himself enjoy the presence of his two loves. The stress of the past few weeks melts away at the touch of Kieran’s hands, the brush of Cristina’s lips.

“Are you both comfortable here?” Mark asks after a while. “We could go to the bed.” The couch frame is digging into his back, and it’s bearable, but not ideal.

Cristina stands suddenly. “I need to tell you two something.”

The look on her face and the tone of her voice indicates it’s something serious. Kieran and Mark both shift to face her.

“Are you okay, Princess?” Kieran asks gently.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She takes a breath. Mark and Kieran wait expectantly.

“I’m pregnant.”

Before either of them have a chance to respond, Cristina barrels on, “Honestly, I was careless last time we were here, and I didn’t have the rune when I thought I did and I didn’t check, but I started getting symptoms so a few days ago I took a test and it was positive and I went to the Silent Brothers and they confirmed it, too. I know it might be a little early, but, I mean, we are in our 20s, and I know things are kind of hectic right now so if you guys don’t want to keep it we don’t have to, but... I think I do.”

Cristina stands nervously, scanning Mark and Kieran’s faces for a response. In Mark’s periphery, he can see Kieran’s hair rapidly changing color.

Kieran speaks first. “I think... I think I do, too.” He pauses. “I think that I would like to be a father. A parent. With you two.”

Cristina visibly relaxes a little. “Are you sure, Kier? I know the court might not approve—“

“I’ll make them approve,” Kieran says fiercely.

A small smile starts on Cristina’s face. She turns to Mark and hesitantly asks, “Mark? Love, do you want to be a father?”

Thoughts are ripping through Mark’s mind like a hurricane, including all his worries and insecurities and stresses, but the strongest one is—

“Yes,” Mark says. “Yes,” he repeats louder. A brilliant smile works it’s way across Cristina’s face. Kieran extends his hands toward her and she takes them, settling in between Mark and Kieran.

“You are the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met, Lady of Roses,” Kieran says softly, “and it is an incredible honor that I may have a child with you.”

Cristina giggles. “You know it’s Mark’s kid as well, right?”

Kieran grins. “We’ll just have to figure out how to share.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Mark says fondly, leaning over to kiss him.

“Yeah,” Cristina agrees with a smile. “And you’re okay, Mark?”

He knows what she’s referring to. “Yes,” he says firmly. “That was me being ridiculous before. And you knew that. Our work is especially worth it now to make a better world for our child.”

Cristina smiles widely, her eyes glistening. She kisses Mark and whispers, “I love you.”

She turns and kisses Kieran. “I love you.”

She places both of their hands on her stomach, lacing their fingers together. She looks down at their intertwined hands over the life growing in her belly.

“I love you,” all three of them say.

[chiwhorei]

brown, leather straps

pairing: l. ackerman x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

genre: a lil angsty, smut, 18+ minors dni

warnings: oral (f. receiving), spitting, bondage sksksksk

a/n: day six in levi brain rot hell. nothing is real and there is no escape. thank you to @messwriting for letting me scream in your dms at 7am and helping me flesh out some soft levi feels sksksksksk. @pleasantanathema said us two together is a scary little duo and i wholeheartedly agree.

hymn: desire - slowed by hucci, and do it for me by rosenfeld okay listen to it again sksksks

your hand raps lightly against a familiar door, knuckles scraping in contemplation against the wood.

this wouldn’t be the first time tired feet drug you down the hall and in front of the captain’s bedroom, not by a long shot. the night air whirls around you, nipping against any bare skin it could reach. you pull the wool cloak farther around your form for reprieve.

levi pulls the door open with a huff, turning back around without much acknowledgement. you watch as he he sits at the edge of his bed, he looks every bit as exhausted and battered as he did when you saw him return just a few hours ago. his eyes are downcast and heavy, the grey color reflecting every body he must have seen fall. they hang off of his shoulders and press against his spine in piles of limbs. the horrors of war are inescapable, you know that as well as anyone.

you also know there’s no amount of words that could be used as salve for the things he saw today, there’s barely bandages big enough to cover the long diagonal wound across his front.

“it looks worse than it is, don’t worry about me.” levi can feel your worried eyes against his bare chest, they follow the paths upwards to meet his face. you waste no time fussing over his injuries, there’s nothing more to be done for bruises and cuts against the pale skin.

his head hangs in his hands, you walk up to stand in front of him, bouncing on your heels as nerves take place in your heart. levi doesn't look up to you yet, still marose and curled in on his own body. he hears the small thud of fabric against the floor directly in front of him, his eyes flick forward slightly to catch the pile of green framing your ankles. you’ve piqued his curiosity now.

hungry eyes move up your almost naked skin. the only remnants of modesty lay in brown leather around your hips and thighs. the straps twirl like vines around your waist meeting finally to clasp right above your breasts. you’re ensnared in a trap of your own creation, prey captured and presented on a silver platter. levi’s mouth waters at the meal before him, canines aching in his mouth, itching to tear into you.

you’re pulled forward by the buckles on either hip to stand in between a stong pair of knees. there are usually very few words shared between the two of you, opting to spend the secret evenings putting mouths and tongues to better uses. tonight feels different. instead of clashing teeth and snarling, your fingertips trace against the captain’s hairline. two sets of fingers dig into the skin below your ass, but the grip feels more like a centering of soul.

you climb onto his lap, either knee pressing into the sharply made bed below you. levi wanders over your body, rubbing against planes of skin and fat that are well-known to his touch. your body reacts as it always does, arching into his exploration. his fingerprints paint your skin, covering every expanse while your lips attach at his pulse. you kiss lightly against his heartbeat, following along outlined trails to reach his collarbone.

levi is lost in your touch, each kiss chipping away at the horrors of reality beyond the wood of his bedroom door. he falls back into the mattress at your soft push, staring up at the outline of your body as the moon casts a spotlight from the window. your presence drips onto him like syrup, calming a broken man with seemingly little effort. he reaches out for you, catching on the leather across your chest and pulling you down. you meet his eyes again for a moment, you watch the storms that cloud him.

“you have no idea what you do to me.” his words shake down the column of your spine, poking at questions neither of you would voice out loud. you don’t answer him, instead you continue a soft assault against his marred skin. every jagged scar is touched by your lips as if trying to heal them. the silvered skin remains, but warmth blooms against the tissue.

levi returns with new wounds that will turn to scars against his beautiful skin, but he always returns. while scanning across the new additions to his collection, you feel the clumping of tears in your eyes.

“you’re going to ride past that gate for the last time one day, aren’t you?” your whimpers knock against him, he feels your soft sobs dripping onto his chest before you can stop yourself.

levi is stiff under you. the right answer seems non-existent, because you didn’t actually ask him a question.

he could tell you that he would crawl back from whatever hell awaits him, break every finger as he drags himself back up from the earth’s crust to lie in bed next to you— but no words seem strong enough.

he’ll have to show you instead.

you’re flipped over in the next moment, back cradled by one of his arms. his gaze on you is nothing short of primal, a wounded animal presented it’s first meal in days.

he’ll take you like sacrament. he’ll eat you alive.

you watch as levi sits back to regard you, his eyes warm at the sight before him. you’re wrapped like a present in the chestnut straps. he leans down to meet your lips again, his thumb pressing into your chin as he parts.

“open up.” your jaw falls slack at his command, you look up to him in anticipation. Jet hair frames his face from above you, slightly tousled. one hand rests above your head while the other is busy keeping your lips parted with a soft grip. you watch his mouth scrunch and a string of spit fall downwards towards your awaiting mouth. you lull your tongue out, always taking what he has to give you.

“good girl,” are the last words you hear before levi snakes down your body. every inch of leather and metal is followed with wet lips venturing downwards. levi reaches your aching cunt, already sheened with slick. he blows lightly against you to marvel at your reaction. you’re so pliant under your captain, completely submissive to his trek against your body.

the first union of his tongue to the perimeter of your lips is feather-light and disastrous.

you cry out in a cracked plea, the night’s circumstances being emotionally raw in so many ways. your body is hyper-sensitive and throbbing. when two fingers hover over your hole and press in without warning, the moan ripped from your throat at his contact is loud and unintentional.

just as quickly as two fingers press into you and curl against the anterior, spongy pad of your walls, they are ripped from you to find a home shoved into your mouth.

“no talking with your mouth full, it’s not polite.” his teasing spreads across your hot cheeks. his fingers press against your tongue, saliva pooling in their wake and escaping to run in small trails across your cheeks. levi snaps back up to you again, capturing you in his stare while his tongue pokes out from those pouty, downturned lips.

his hands grab onto the straps nestled against your thighs, bringing your pussy to him to lave a flat stripe against the weeping skin. you’re taste is intoxicating, tart and heady. he moves his mouth against you with vigor, purposely collecting pools of slick and spit to coat his face.

you squirm in his hold, the contact overbearing, but the cool leather in his grip keeps you in place against his frantic mouth. with every long lick over your pussy, he reaches the apex to suck against your clit. the pace is set, messy and wet. his mouth works your body like it has done so many times before, in the secret reprieve of a captain's quarters.

his tongue traces against your sensitive bundle of nerves, coiling a live wire in your stomach and pulling against it tightly. he releases your puffy clit with a squelching pop right as you feel the taste of your orgasm at the back of your throat. the feeling retreats and levi looms over you again, he barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before the taste of your own arousal is spat into your mouth. he wipes his slick covered face with the back of his hand, grinning down at you.

neither of you will waste words on the resounding, catotonic pull between your two bodies. there’s no point in whispered confessionals when tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.

tonight, levi will pull every high from your twitching body that he steals from you. he’ll bring you to the edge and pull you back into his orbit. it’s been a long day, full of terrors beyond his control.

it will be an even longer night.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[staliasjeronica]

Riverdale 3.14 Thoughts *Spoilers*

Joking Betty… wow… that’s actually very adorable and I love it. More of this (good) petty Betty please!

Did Archie just get a job? I’m confused… “you gotta pay your dues” makes it sound like he fucked everything up and has to pay money for something but then he’s like “yeah no this kid has been through too much, just sweep and lock up, okay?” But like… what?

Like I’m mad at Cheryl for what she did last episode to my boys, but holy fuck she looks good, and Peaches beside her? WHOO I’M—

LMAO CHERYL’S FACE WHEN THAT ONE GUY CALLS THEM “BITCHES” So like… why weren’t we allowed to see that fight? I fucking heard glass breaking so like… lemme see Cheryl punch at least one ghoulie bitch

Jughead saying that the Serpents don’t cook… as if they don’t have ghoulies, who DO cook drugs. Serpents were always the better gang because the Ghoulies sealed drugs and shit, and Serpents just helped out the community lol

Principal Weatherbee what was the reason for saying “one more strike” twice???

Wait since the fuck when was the speakeasy secret? YOU HAD AN OPENING AND SO MANY REGULAR PEOPLE FROM RIVERDALE WERE THERE??? God this show is so fucking confusing I’m—

Why did they make Archie yell at the kid when we all know he would be soft to a young kid? Is it to make Archosie seem like cute parents? Either way tho… I LOVE ARCHOSIE

POOR RICKY. Imma protect him with my life oKAY

“It’s just me and my dad” EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO CRY. 

UGH WE LOVE DAD ARCHIE OKAY

Choni!!! This angst is really… scaring me whoo. That line about the meeting spot… got to me. Like many are misinterpreting it as them breaking up but she’s just saying that it’s going to be awkward if they have meetings for a gang Toni suspended her from in her house.

A CORE FOUR SCENE? WOW I 5GOT THEY WERE STILL FRIENDS SKSKSKSKSKS because Betty never talks to V, and when she does it’s usually her talking shit for literally no reason, and then V apologizes… for no reason. And Betty never sees Archie bc the writers are afraid of Barchie’s power, same with Jeronica lol (I want more Jeronica breadcrumbs please)

If they do lose the Cooper house, she should move in with Archie. And no, it’s not just because I like Barchie and want them together (love you too archosie but you’re going to have to end when Josie goes to the spinoff :(( ) because Archie has room, he’s her best friend, and honestly we don’t need Betty being caught up in the Lodge or Jones family drama.

“You are an attractor?” What the fuck does that even mean, Kevin? Honestly this episode actually makes me ROOT for Betty like that’s a rare thing to me because normally she’s an annoying bitch but like… I like this Betty. The one who’s actually nice, and isn’t a bitch to her friends for no reason, who isn’t trying to please her boyfriend by inserting herself into her boyfriend’s gang. Like, season one Betty. When she was happiest (even though right now… that’s not really a possibility with what’s going on with her family). Give me this Betty, with a not stupid Jughead (which lets me honest right now he’s not able to not be a stupid fucking idiot), and I might be able to say I can tolerate Bughead

Oh wow it was a ghoulie. I never would have guessed. How crazy.

First of all, I love that Fangs calls him a fizzle rock junkie. Like, I know he sold it for his mom but I still find it kinda funny… two… WHEN THE FUCK WAS MY BOY FANGS THE AGGRESSIVE ONE? I swear they switched up Sweet Pea and Fangs’ personalities because they KNOW Sweet Pea would never allow stupid ass Jughead’s ideas and shit and he would fight back. But now suddenly it’s Fangs??? Like… what? I mean I love seeing SP’s soft side and I like the idea of showing Fangs aggressive side but they’re really fucking everything up when it comes to arcs and personalities and shit

LMAO WHY DID I LAUGH WHEN JUGHEAD HIT THE DESK AND SCREAMED “ALRIGHT” LIKE ALL HE HAD TO DO WAS GO IN BETWEEN THEM WHAT WAS THE POINT OF DEFINITELY HURTING YOUR HAND ON THE DESK JUGHEAD. Like I said… stupid idiot lol.

Jughead just needs to cut ties like there’s only two original Serpents left… just give Toni what she deserves (her rightful title) and watch the Serpents go back to being an actual, good gang (good as in not fucked up and withering)

“And now that I think about it, neither do the Serpents” YEAH BECAUSE YOU CAN’T LEAD A GANG. Once again… give Toni her rightful title so she can make the Serpents how they were supposed to be!!! IT’S NOT THAT HARD JUGHEAD.

So like where the fuck is Tom Keller??? Why can’t he help his son? This is BS

Why does this feel like the only scene where Betty legit talks to Josie? Like, one on one? Mmhm

So because I already know that Ricky is Joaquin’s brother (I’ll freak out about that when it comes to it) WHY THE FUCK DON’T ANY OF THE SERPENTS… well… SP or Fangs…. RECOGNIZE HIM??? THEY INSINUATED THAT FANGS DATED JOAQUIN SO LIKE HE SHOULD KNOW HIS YOUNGER BROTHER. What the fuck writers

What kinda crack… Kevin really just walked on fire like it was nothing??? Also if Kevin is doing this does that mean Alice did?

I’m still mad that they kept the murder of the shady man a secret like it was self defense they had nothing to hide! And now it’s being used against her. UGH

TONI COMING TO TELL JUGHEAD ABOUT FANGS.

MY BABY FANGS.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BOY BETTER NOT GET HURT

THANK GOD SWEET PEA AND JUGHEAD PROTECTED HIS FALL!!! Also because I ship Swangs… PROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND SWEET PEA YEAH BOY

“I miss the Serpents” as someone who head cannons Reggie as Sweet Pea’s half brother… love that line for me

DAD ARCHIE I’M—

LOPAZ CRUMBS OH MY GOD

The fact that Veronica thinks of the Pretty Poisons instead of the Serpents really says something. Like, The Serpents are dying, the Poisons are kinda crazy when listening to Cheryl but when it comes to Toni, she knows how to run a gang which is why Veronica went to her and not Jughead. I may ship Jeronica but this was a great idea on Veronica’s part. ALSO MY GIRLS GET PAID!

I know right now Alice is fucking crazy and being manipulated but like… who the fuck would sell their house to an anonymous buyer???

This… is Jughead’s idea? Making Serpents deputies? This is so fucking stupid… it’s official, Archie isn’t the official “idiot” (even though his mistakes were all innocent and well-intentioned) it’s Jughead, he’s the stupid crackhead of Riverdale now

BUT they get paid so that’s good… but still… really? Making them deputies? How fucking stupid is Jughead???

Mmhm and easier way to do this is to GIVE THE SERPENTS TO TONI BECAUSE SHE DESERVES IT. IT’S HER BIRTHDAY. But Jugaloo Jones would rather skin himself than be wrong and prove Toni right

SWEET PEA CLEARING HIS THROAT TO MAKE SURE THE OTHERS RAISE THEIR HANDS I’M—

Lmao there’s my boy! “Do we get to carry guns?”

Still can’t believe he’s Joaquin’s brother. Like, we never know anything about the Serpents until it’s convenient like GIVE US BRITTA BACK SHE’S BETTER AT BALANCING ALL OF THIS SHIT. I heard she’s writing for episode 20 or something so can’t wait for that episode!!!

First of all, WHAT IS WITH PEOPLE USING KNIVES AGAINST ARCHIE??? Also of course at the time we find out he’s self harming and crazy, then he suddenly realizes that’s what Ms. Weiss is telling Archie and then suddenly decides to become crazy.

SECOND OF ALL, FRED!!! Oh this is so sad. We’ll be seeing him for the next few episodes, too… I wonder if they’ll do what they did on Glee and have something happen to him in the show and have a whole episode dedicated to him, or find another actor to play Fred. I mean, I know it’s really really really bad to think of this but if Fred dies in the show too, Archie will… not make it. I think they’re probably going to find another actor, but I don’t know. Whichever they do, though, I’ll be okay with.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP WITH THE FUCKING “KILL THE RED PALADIN” SHIT!!! Jesus Christ

I made myself sad because I heard “obviously” instead of “I’ll be asleep” anyways time to cry

Choni angst :(

YES TONI. YES PEACHES. YES PRETTY POISONS

WE LOVE AND STAN Veronica Lodge SAY IT WITH ME! WE LOVE AND STAN VERONICA LDOGE

Why did I get déjà vu with that scene at the end though?

So I guess arson runs in the family…