#i probably spent way too much time on this

[autumnscribbles]

tutor girl | rc

pairing: frat!rafe x college!reader

summary: y/n and rafe were never on the same level, but after a party at his frat that forms an unlikely friendship, rafe asks for her help

request by anonymous

warnings: drinking? i think that’s all

wc: 2k

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You closed up your laptop and textbook as your professor said his final few words of the lecture. You were tutoring someone right after, and didn’t want to make them wait around in the library.

You gathered your things quickly and stood up, keeping your head down as you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye tutor girl,” you heard a voice call behind you.

You turned to see Rafe Cameron, smug grin spread across his face as he waved at you. You rolled your eyes as you always did and started to make your way to the library.

“You know, tutor girl, it wouldn’t kill you to look up from a book and have fun every now and then,” he teased.

You didn’t know why he always had to speak to you and taunt you with his dumb nicknames. You had no friends in common, and ran in completely different circles, yet he relentlessly went out of his way to tease you.

You arrived at the library first, and sat down at your usual table. Leah, the girl you were tutoring, was starting to become almost a friend to you. You two usually spend the beginning of your sessions just chatting and catching up. You saw her red hair before you saw any other part of her as she breathlessly sat down in front of you.

“Sorry I’m late,” she breathed. “You know how Callahan can be.”

“Oh, do I ever,” you chuckled.

“You going to that party tonight?” she asked casually as she took out her notes for you guys to go over together.

You shook your head, not hearing about any party. Your Friday nights were usually spent binge watching shows or reading a book tucked under your blanket. You didn’t go out much, and you liked it that way. You enjoyed spending time with yourself.

“You have to come!” she exclaimed. “I thought Ella would have invited you already. It’s at that frat house, the red brick one, alpha something.”

You weren’t surprised Ella, your roommate and friend, didn’t mention it to you. She knew your answer would probably be no, so eventually she just stopped asking. You decided maybe tonight you’d step out of your comfort zone. For some reason, Rafe insinuating you didn’t know how to have fun was bothering you. You could have fun. What did he know?

Just for a few hours, you told yourself, so people don’t think you’re so boring anymore.

“I’ll be there,” you grinned.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You look hot!” your roommate, Ella, screeched from behind you.

You blinked as you placed in your second contact lense, waiting for your vision to un-blur.

“Not as hot as you,” you told her. “I feel so weird.”

She reassured you that you looked great. You felt a little self conscious, but tried not to let it get to you. Tonight was about having fun. Letting loose, have a few drinks, talk to new people. It would be fine. The clothes you wore and how you looked were secondary.

You shoved your phone in your pocket as you and Ella made your way outside. The frat house was only about 5 minutes away on foot, an easy trek.

“Do you know anyone at this party?” you asked.

“A few,” she answered. She listed off a few names, all of which were unfamiliar to you except one.

Rafe.

“Rafe Cameron?” you asked, trying not to sound too curious.

She nodded affirmatively, making you let out a sigh. Just what you needed, Rafe teasing you about the way you looked, or about you being nerdy. Whatever. You just had to show him how to have a good time, that he didn’t know you like he thought he did.

You let Ella walk in first, suddenly feeling a rush of nerves overcome you. You hadn’t been to a frat party, and you had no idea what to expect. You just knew there would be a lot of booze, and a lot of idiot men.

The loud music pounded in your ears the second you walked through the door, and it was a lot…sweatier than you imagined. The temperature of the room rose from all the body heat. Girls in little clothing were grinding against boys who didn’t seem to even know their names. Red solo cups strewn on the floor that had a perpetual sticky feeling.

“Let’s get a drink!” Ella yelled into your ear over the music as you both made your way to the kitchen.

The counter was lined with alcohol bottles, various juices and mixers, and a big bowl of what appeared to be punch of some kind. You reached for a red cup from the pile, a hand interjecting you.

“Tutor girl!” Rafe cheered. “What are you doing here?”

Of course he found you immediately.

“It’s Friday night,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“That it is, tutor girl, that it is,” he nodded. “Let me make you a drink.”

You grabbed the cup back from him, cocking your eyebrow.

“I can do it,” you told him. You didn’t trust any of these boys to make you a drink.

He raised his hands in defence, taking a step back to let you have free access to the contents in front of you. You mixed yourself a drink, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into you. Ella had left your side, probably seeing someone she knew and running over to them.

You took a deep sip of your drink, knowing you needed some liquid courage to get you through the night. You heard Rafe say something, but couldn’t hear him over the music. You asked him what he said and he leaned toward you, his warm breath behind you ear.

“I said I like you better with the glasses,” he repeated.

You couldn’t help the blush from forming on your cheeks. You were used to people telling you they liked you better without them. You had always wondered if you should wear contacts every day. Your blush disappeared when you realized who you were talking to. He was being sarcastic, making fun of you.

“I’m gonna go find Ella,” you told him before turning on your heel and walking away.

She was standing by a table playing beer pong, excitedly waving you over. You weaved through overly sweaty bodies to stand next to her. She told you she needed a partner, and you reluctantly agreed.

You went first, bouncing the ping pong ball off the table, and landing it straight in the cup in the front.

“Drink up!” Ella cheered, as Topper chugged the cup in front of him.

You continued, landing almost every throw, everyone around the table cheering you on as you scored the winning shot.

“Who knew tutor girl could kill all of us at beer pong?” Rafe said from behind you.

He smirked at you, moving to the other side of the table.

“Let’s 1v1,” he challenged you, his bright blue eyes narrowing playfully.

“You’re on, Cameron,” you muttered.

“You’ll regret that, tutor girl.”

The beer coursed through you as Rafe landed his ping pong ball in your cup repeatedly. At this point, it was like you were just taking turns drinking then scoring. The room was slightly spinning around you, but you stayed focused. You were determined to win. You both had one cup left, and it was your turn.

“Don’t choke,” Rafe intimidated you from across the table. His gaze was locked on you, making you nervous.

“As if,” you scoffed, sending your ball straight into the cup.

Everyone cheered, jumping around you drunkenly. The other boys in the frat were teasing Rafe, who apparently almost never lost beer pong. You hadn’t even expected yourself to be good at it. A hidden talent, you smiled to yourself.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You stumbled up the stairs, looking for the bathroom you were told was up here to the left. The hallway spun as you walked in to the first room on the left. You realized quickly it wasn’t a bathroom, but a bedroom. You slumped on the floor, feeling tired from dancing for what felt like the last hour.

You couldn’t remember the last time you drank this much, and sometimes sitting on the floor was appealing. You’d get up in a second and find the bathroom. You shut your eyes a moment, you head spinning, before being scared by a sudden voice.

“Tutor girl,” he said. You could hear the smirk on his face without even needing to see him. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I was looking for the bathroom,” you slurred. “But I needed a rest and the floor seemed comfortable.”

“You were only a few feet short,” he chuckled.

You shrugged, laughing to yourself. He sat down beside you, making your body stiffen at his sudden presence so close to you. You were expecting him to kick you out of his room.

He held a bottle in his hand, passing it over to you to take a sip. You took a swig and instantly regretted it, your face grimacing in disgust. Rafe chuckled beside you as he took a swig himself.

“You know,” he started. “I underestimated you, tutor girl.”

There he goes again with that nickname. Will he ever call you by your name?

“Because I beat you at beer pong?” you asked.

“Nah I knew you’d be good at beer pong,” he answered. “You were probably doing some physics shit in your head or something.”

You let out a cackle, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. You hadn’t meant to laugh that hard.

“You have a great laugh, y/n,” he slurred, tilting his head back.

You stopped at the sound of your name leaving his mouth. You don’t think you ever heard it.

“Wow,” you sighed. “Not tutor girl?”

“Oh you’re still tutor girl,” he replied quickly. “But I meant I underestimated how cool you were. You’re fun.”

“You’re just drunk,” you said. “Tomorrow you’ll go back to ignoring me except to make fun of me.”

He stared at you blankly, not knowing what to say. For once, he didn’t have a witty comment. You didn’t know he did the opposite of ignore you. In fact, he was always paying attention to you. The way your eyebrows furrowed when you were typing your notes out, the way you leaned your chin on your hand when the professor was talking, the smoothness of your voice when you explained a concept to a student. He saw you.

“I’m not making fun, tutor girl,” he whispered. “You’re very intriguing.”

“There it is again,” you sighed. You stood up finally, your urge to pee stronger than ever. You snatched the bottle from Rafe and took one more swig before finally going to find the bathroom.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Monday morning, you sat in class, chin resting in your hand as the professor drawled on. You pushed your glasses up as they slid down your nose. You practically jumped out of your seat when the class was finished. You were starving.

“Tutor girl!” you heard a voice call from behind you. You turned to see none other than Rafe jogging towards you, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you asked, annoyed he was keeping you away from the sandwich you were about to buy.

“I have a proposition,” he started. “I need help with this class. My grades are slipping and I just can’t understand anything. Would you help me?”

You let out a laugh, stopping when you realized he was serious.

“Are you messing with me?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I seriously need help. And I thought who better to ask than…tutor girl!”

You rolled your eyes, as always. But you reluctantly agreed.

“Can we start now?” he pleaded, clutching his textbook in his hands.

“Rafe,” you sighed. “I’m starving, can we do another day?”

“I’ll buy you lunch!” he exclaimed. “Your prize for beating me at beer pong.”

“Fine,” you agreed. “But we aren’t friends just because we sat on the floor drunk together.”

“Whatever you say, tutor girl.”

You rolled your eyes once more, but couldn’t help but lift the corners of your mouth, knowing without having to look that he was smiling as he trailed behind you.

[msclaritea]

From Ani O'Brien, on Twitter:

Why centring her campaign on abortion was a bad strategy for Kamala:

1. It was based on a lie. Access to abortion was going to be the same regardless of which candidate won. The Supreme Court ruled that abortion law was a matter for individual states TWO years ago. Trump's policy is to leave it as a matter for states to decide & he stated many times there would be NO federal abortion ban. Harris' has done nothing for TWO years to improve access despite being the VP. There is no indication that she had any plan except to wait for room on the Supreme Court to install a pro-abortion judge to ensure a challenge would get through. This would likely take years.

2. It was never going to entice soft Republicans to jump ship.

3. Many Democrats & Independents are pro-life and by focusing so closely on abortion they were alienated from her campaign.

4. Also alienates many minorities who are more likely to have religious beliefs e.g. Black, Arabic, and Latino communities.

5. Many women will never have an abortion or see abortion as something that happens only when something has gone very wrong, and while they care about it, life is so tough that they are likely to vote for matters more pressing and immediate to their survival.

6. The Democrats have been appalling on other aspects of women's rights because they believe men can declare themselves to be women. They have destroyed Title IX, put men in women's prisons, and refuse to acknowledge what a woman is. It can be viewed as hypocritical.

7. The attempt to start a movement of dads voting for their daughter's to have access to abortion seems alright on the surface but only to their base who votes for them already. Other dads (rightly or wrongly) do not want to think about their daughters having sex and getting accidentally pregnant. They may agree with abortion access but are uncomfortable with the thought of their daughter needing it.

8. The issue became so aggressively and hyperbolically discussed in media and online to the extent that more extreme views of no-term-limit abortions were being demanded and some women were bragging about how many abortions they have had. The activist madness then put off moderates who associated it with all the other woke issues that are irritating people.

9. Kamala spent so much time on this and demonising Trump that she did not offer an alternative vision and solutions to the real problems that Americans were saying mattered to them.

10. Many states have legalised (or are in the process of legalising) access to abortion already. Given Trump's assurances that the Federal Govt won't get involved the women of those states may feel confident to focus on other issues.

11. People could see through the scaremongering.

There are probably many other reasons I have missed. I am personally pro-choice but see it as a very serious decision not a form of contraception. I was disgusted by the scaremongering and out right lies. She centred her campaign on the lie that Trump was going to take immediate action to ban all abortions and she was going to reverse the SC decision on Roe V Wade which she cannot do.

Besides this, I am aware of Russia not being good. But, the fact is, they've been partnering with Africa for decades and are currently helping Burkina Faso against Jihadists insurgents. I also get the fact that our country is responsible for having installed Zekensky, who is a corrupt leader. It is no longer possible to see any entities or subjects as purely black and white. Geopolitics are changing, rapidly. Europe? It has been going downhill, for a while. If Africa continues to kick Western countries out of the region, who steal their resources, Europe and the rest of the West will keep going downhill, because places like Belgium and France have built their whole economy out of brutal colonization and theft of resources. America has, too. Our history in Africa is beyond appealing.

Finally, the way Harris treated her supporters, some who traveled hours to be there, at her alma mater Howard University, is pretty telling about what kind of leader she would have been. After having her back, Harris dipped out, without saying one word.

[sansaorgana]

— BLESSED (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You have no choice but to follow Sauron and your daughter to Mordor because you do not want to abandon her. As time passes, you find yourself being lured by your husband's charm once more as the memories of his cruelty in Eregion begin to fade away.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — And here we are go with the last part! I know I probably write Sauron's relationship with his daughter in a very idealistic way – that in canon he would be most likely way worse. But writing it like that would bring me no joy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It's a fic for dad!Sauron and I want him to be at least a bit decent while we're at it! 😤

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Sauron, Sauron being a very mid dad who manipulates his daughter and teaches her how to be evil like him, child in danger (nothing happens in the end), murder (of the Orcs), Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, immaculate conception (yes, again!)

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (III)

Celebrimbor was out of his mind again. Your heart ached for him as you were sitting next to him and caressing his hair softly as if he was a child. He had spent centuries taking care of you and now it was your turn to return the favour. You kept sobbing, feeling angry at yourself that you could not protect him.

Sauron was gone. After finding out where The Rings were, he had left in a hurry, leaving you with a few Orcs that had come to the forge in the meantime. They wanted to plead their allegiance to your husband and the very first task they had been given was to watch over you, your daughter and your uncle. To make sure none of you would escape.

Almárea was not scared of them, which surprised you. In fact, she approached them and kept asking them a million questions as the Orcs were growing a little frustrated with her curiosity. They were, however, answering all her questions patiently. You cracked a smile at that. She was still a child – curious and so full of life.

So full of light, too. You could not let the darkness win within her.

“I shall not allow him to hurt you, uncle. I shall not, I promise,” you kissed Celebrimbor’s forehead and your uncle looked up at you with hazy eyes and a loving smile. “You have endured and suffered so much because of him already. But no more, no more, uncle… Now you must rest.”

“Your daughter…” He mumbled out and you looked down at his face with a sad smile. “Is she not the most precious? She is the exact copy of you, sweet (Y/N). You were a girl like her once, running around this very forge.”

“I remember, uncle,” you sobbed. “I remember it vividly. My father and you working together, my mother still happy and full of life, before she began a lifetime of mourning. I remember…”

You pulled him closer and tried to come up with an idea how to save him. Even if Sauron would not kill him – he had made this promise to Almárea when she had revealed to him Lady Galadriel had been the one to have The Rings now and you wanted to believe he would keep that promise – you still had a feeling your husband would use Celebrimbor somehow or hurt him. 

“Almárea?” You called out for her and she turned around to lay her eyes upon you. You beckoned her over and she nodded at the Orcs before running up to you. “Almárea, do you want uncle Celebrimbor to be safe?”

“Of course, mummy,” your daughter’s eyes widened.

“Can you distract them as I walk him out of here? I will be right back,” you whispered as you pointed at the Orcs with your chin.

“I do not know, mummy… Last time I listened to you, daddy was very angry…” She looked down, nervously.

“Almárea, please. Do you love uncle Celebrimbor?” You asked.

“Yes, of course,” she nodded.

“Then, please…”

“But will you come back to me? Truly?” She lifted up her eyes and looked into yours with a hint of anxiety.

“My darling, always. I shall never abandon you,” you promised, truthfully. Your heart ached at the thought she was not as sure of it as you were.

Eventually, she nodded as she turned around towards the Orcs once more. She ran up to them joyfully and kept asking them questions. When you moved up, dragging Celebrimbor with you, they did not even flinch, which meant that your daughter’s deception was working.

You felt bad for leaving her with them even for a short moment but at this moment it was your uncle who was the most vulnerable and who needed you more. You owed him that, at least.

You walked him out of the forge and hurried to the secret tunnel below the city. The Orcs who had taken over Eregion were feasting now in havoc in the courtyard, which distracted them enough to make it possible for you to lead your uncle safely to the passage.

You walked inside with him and he was following you like a trusting child. In the middle of the passage, you bumped into Herald Elrond. Your heart was in joy to see him and to know that he was safe. He had been some sort of a cousin to you – his father had also been a friend of Celebrimbor and he also was a half-Elf. You had many things in common and you had been close friends in your youth.

“(Y/N), thank the Valar,” he sighed. “Where is your daughter? I was sent here by the High King to make an attempt to rescue you and–” He began.

“I must go back,” you shook your head with your eyes full of tears. “Take uncle Celebrimbor to safety. Heal his mind. Forget about me,” you pleaded and he furrowed his brows.

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “Where is Almárea?”

“Please, Elrond. You must not know,” you insisted before kissing your uncle’s forehead once more and caressing his cheeks to tell him goodbye.

“(Y/N)!” Elrond called out for you when you turned around to go back to Eregion and to your daughter.

“If you love me and respect me,” you began. “If you love Celebrimbor… Just take him away from here. That is all I ask for,” you insisted and hurried back to Eregion. “Do not follow me!” You exclaimed after hearing him trying to rush after you.

He eventually listened to you because he had a huge love for Celebrimbor and he could see the state of him was not the best. You heard the sound of their steps subduing as you went back to Eregion. 

You went back to the forge, feeling a bit more peaceful on the inside, knowing that you managed to save your uncle from Sauron. You nodded at Almárea and she nodded back at you, visibly relieved to see you coming back to her.

Her father came back not long after, too. He was wearing a breastplate and holding Morgoth’s crown in his hand, which was dripping blood – you could feel from afar its purity and light. It was Elven.

“Have you killed her?” You whispered with widened eyes.

“Sadly, no,” Sauron answered with a smirk. “But I got The Nine,” he added and you looked away, feeling defeated. “Speaking of, where is Celebrimbor?”

“Far away,” you mumbled out, expecting him to lash out.

Surprisingly, he did not. He shrugged his arms.

“Whatever. He is no use to me anymore. Almárea, we are leaving,” he extended his free hand and nodded at her.

“You cannot take her away from me!” You turned your head around again to watch what she would do. She hesitated but then she ran up to him and squeezed his hand, which felt like a punch straight into your heart.

“Where are we going, daddy?” She asked.

“To our new home,” Sauron answered and turned around, dragging her behind him but she remained still. “What is it?” He asked with an irritated sigh.

“We are taking mummy with us, right?” She asked.

Long silence occurred. Sauron laid his cold and empty eyes upon you, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the wall and crying silent tears.

“It is her choice,” he answered, softly, “but I doubt she wants to go with us.”

“On the contrary. I have no choice,” you gritted your teeth, clumsily standing up. “I must go where she goes. Even if it is a path I hate to follow.”

“Do you truly realise who I am?” Your husband titled his head at your words. “All the stories they have told you about me when you were a child – I am worse than any of them.”

“I am fully aware,” you approached him and held Almárea’s free hand. “And that is why I must go to make sure you do not turn her into a monster like you.”

It took you a few days of travel with the filthy army of Orcs to get to Mordor. You and Sauron did not exchange a single word during this trip. Almárea was riding with you on your horse for half of the day and then she would go to ride with her father. You made no stops on your way, so after arriving in Mordor, you and your daughter were exhausted.

The land was dark and barren, full of fire and ashes. It looked like hell but you decided not to complain because you realised you were on thin ice already – Sauron did not treat you like his consort in any way. Apparently, you would be nothing but a mother to his child from now on. Any sign of disobedience could be punished with exile and that was the last thing you wanted. You needed to be close to your daughter.

He ordered the Orcs to build him a grand fortress but until then, you resided in a big mansion that had once belonged to a rich human family of The Southlands. You had an awful view of Mount Doom from there and the rooms were all beautifully decorated but also dusty and worn out.

Once again – you did not complain. You did not dare.

You followed Sauron to the chambers he had decided would be yours and Almárea’s. He was carrying her in his arms as she was half-asleep already. You watched him put her to bed and caress her head as you sat down on the chair next to the bed. You held her little hand and squeezed it lovingly, watching her drift off to the land of dreams. Those past few days had been difficult and exhausting for her.

Sauron straightened his back and looked down at you with a bit of contempt but also affection – mixed together, they made you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“Do you remember?” He asked, speaking his very first sentence to you in days.

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, questioningly. Your husband extended his hand and touched your cheek with it.

At that moment, your vision got blurry and you felt yourself go back in time a few years to one, specific memory. One of the most beautiful days you had ever lived.

You were sitting by the river, in a field full of flowers. Almárea was about a year old and clumsily taking her first steps. You watched Annatar helping her and chuckling at her harmless but funny falls as she kept giggling and blabbering, excitedly. The sun was slowly setting and you felt at peace. You truly believed your whole life would be just like that.

When Sauron took his hand away from your face, you found yourself back in Mordor, stripped of any faith and any dignity.

“Why did you show me that?” You asked him, angrily, as your eyes filled with fresh tears.

“It was the only moment when I felt that I should, perhaps, abandon my old life and remain in Eregion as Annatar by your side forever,” he confessed.

“Perhaps you should have,” was all you answered, in a whisper nearly inaudible as you watched him walk away with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You had cried out so many of them recently that you were starting to feel hollow and empty.

Weeks passed, maybe months. You had lost track of time since all your days were the same. You were given quite a lot of freedom because Sauron was sure you would never leave his side as long as Almárea was there. You were allowed to walk around the mansion and even take walks although you did not crave them at all since Mordor was not the perfect place to spend time outside.

You were barely exchanging any words with your husband and you seemed to avoid each other. However, he was making sure you were not short on anything. Once in a while there was a package waiting for you on your bed. Inside it you would find gifts – books to read or new dresses. And yesterday you had found an embroidery set, which filled your heart with joy.

You missed embroidery and you even considered it quite thoughtful that he had remembered about it. So, you were sitting by the window and focusing on your craft, trying to recreate Mount Doom, which your daughter loved for some reason. You wanted to make her happy.

You were focused on your work when the doors opened loudly, making you misplace the needle and hurt yourself as you hissed and looked up at your husband.

“Where is Almárea?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Is she not with you? Are you not teaching her your craft of treachery and deception like every day?” You asked with a sigh, defeated.

Sauron rolled his eyes but decided not to comment on your remark.

“I told her to go back to her mother about two hours ago,” he informed you and your heart skipped a beat at that revelation.

“Why didn’t you walk her here yourself?” You asked.

“I had an important matter to attend to and it is not like she is a toddler, is it?” Sauron clenched his jaw but you spotted a glimpse of panic in his eyes. “Where is she?”

“How can I know?! I thought she was with you!” You stood up instantly and put your embroidery set down before rushing out of your chambers. “Almárea!” You called out. “Almárea!”

“Have you seen Lady Almárea?” Sauron asked one of the Orcs walking down the hall.

“N-no, my Lord Sauron,” the Orc shook his head and you watched your husband sit his throat just like that. Usually, you found this behaviour of his dreadful. But now you were too scared and worried for your daughter to care

You kept searching for her all over the mansion, calling out her name, leaving a pile of dead Orcs behind because none of them could answer Sauron about Almárea’s location.

“I think she must have gone outside,” you said after bumping into your husband in the corridor. You watched his eyes widen even further in terror and concern. You snorted at that. “What are you? Scared of losing your precious tool?” You asked him with contempt.

That only angered him further as he grabbed your arm and squeezed it so tightly that you were sure there was a bruise forming already.

“Do not ever say that again,” he drawled out through gritted teeth right into your face. “Do not speak of matters you have no idea of.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Despite everything between you two – it seemed like you shared a thread together and that was love for your daughter. And because you were a worried mother, you regretted inflicting any pain upon a worried father.

“Forgive me,” you whispered and he let go of your arm.

“Do you have any idea where she could go?” Sauron asked you and you shook your head before freezing as you realised.

“Mount Doom,” you whispered. “For some reason, she adores it,” you explained.

“We must not waste any moment then,” Sauron grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind him as you two ran out of the mansion.

The forsaken volcano was not very far away from your home but it still took you quite a while to get there. The air was poisonous around it, making you choke and tear up. You were no mortal, therefore you were in no danger, but it was still an inconvenience. 

“If anything happened to her, I shall be the one to kill you, whatever it takes!” You threatened your husband and he did not even say anything to this. He let go of your wrist and proceeded to climb up.

You followed him but in many places the ground was slippery and you needed his support. His hand would grab you each time you stumbled and pull you up.

Breathing heavily, both covered in dirt from the ashes, you stood there, petrified, seeing Almárea sitting by the edge of the volcano and staring at it spitting out fire. She seemed to be content with her position. You looked up at Sauron with terror in your eyes and he left you behind to approach your daughter with extended hands.

“Almárea, what are you doing here? Have you not been told to never go outside without me or your mother?” Sauron asked, carefully.

“Ugh, daddy, I know, I am sorry. I was just so curious about this mountain and guess what? It is even better than I have imagined,” she confessed with a smile. “Do you know what it reminds me of?”

“What, Almárea?” He asked, taking a few more small steps closer to her.

“A forge,” she answered. “I miss uncle Celebrimbor’s one and this place makes me feel as if I was back there. Oh, daddy, can you imagine all the beautiful things we could craft here?” She asked with a smile.

Sauron froze for a moment as you watched the scene with a raised eyebrow. He looked around as if he had just realised something brilliant.

“Yes, I can, my darling. And we will,” he assured her. “But please, come to me and mummy now, will you?” He extended his hand even further and she nodded, eagerly.

You both gasped watching her stand up because one little wrong move could cause her to fall down the volcano. She, however, seemed to be oblivious. She skipped along towards her father and Sauron picked her up in an instant, squeezing her tight and caressing the back of her head.

Your heart swelled inside your chest at the realisation that he truly cared for her and truly loved her  – even if it was not enough to save her from making her play a part in his schemes.

“Can we go back home, please?” You pleaded and it was the very first time you called that awful place your home.

Sauron nodded at you and you began your walk down the mountain. You were still shaking slightly and holding onto his sleeve to make sure you would not fall. Just like in the old days, he was bringing you comfort and safety – he was making you feel protected even if it was only being protected from a fall.

When you reached your mansion, Sauron took Almárea to the chambers she shared with you. Her skin and robes were dirty with mud and ashes, therefore you prepared her a bath and helped her to undress and get inside the bathtub.

“Call for me if you need anything,” you told her as you placed a new dress on the chair for her to dress herself into after the bath. “Be careful, my darling,” you smiled at her and left her alone in the bathroom, although you left the door ajar just in case.

Sauron was still inside your chambers and staring out of the window at Mount Doom. You sighed at the sight of his back turned on you and you decided to approach him softly.

Your hands acted before you allowed them to and they placed themselves on his arm softly. Your body ached for him and his presence; it was too used to his touch.

He flinched a little and turned his head around to look down at you with a puzzled expression.

“I miss you,” you confessed. “I miss being close to you,” you added.

“You miss Annatar, not me,” he shrugged his arms and looked out of the window again.

“Was Annatar not you? From the very beginning, my husband was Sauron. I only chose to be blind to see it,” you whispered and he looked back at you again, surprised to hear your words.

“Do I not repulse you?” He snorted.

“It does not change the fact I love you still,” you sighed and pressed your cheek to his arm. You both remained dirty from the ashes but you did not mind that all because today’s shared experience of fear and concern for your daughter had brought you two close together once more.

“Your love differs from mine,” he pointed out, a little harshly.

“It has not escaped me,” you let out a chuckle and nuzzled your face deeper into his sleeve. “But it is alright that we love differently. I do not want to be your Queen, I do not want you to share your power with me. All I want is to–”

“Have a family with me,” Sauron finished the sentence softly and you looked up at him, gently. It was the very first time in a long time when your eyes filled with affection for him again. “I was never keen on the idea of having offspring,” he admitted. “But then you made me realise what a blessing children might be,” he cracked a smile and raised his hand to caress your cheek. “I was terrified of my potential child stealing my powers and overthrowing me but Almárea… Her powers and her mind terrify me in the most exquisite way. Do you know why she is so perfect?” He asked and you shook your head. “Because she is half you. She is half light and half darkness. The perfect balance and what else could possibly heal Middle-earth?”

You hated yourself but you found yourself falling for his beautiful words once again. You could never be sure after everything that had happened if his sweet nothings, promises and love declarations were ever genuine. Perhaps, you would forever wonder about it. But despite all of that, the dreadful memories of Eregion’s downfall and his behaviour then were becoming blurry with time and you were ready to move on; to start another chapter with him.

And, as usual, you had an excuse for your husband, too. He had been nervous then. Of course he had been the worst version of himself. But it did not mean he would always be like this. Right now he was not.

“Come here, my love,” Sauron pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Oh, how I have missed you, too, my darling. And even though it brought me great pain, I knew I had to wait for you to come to me out of your own free will.”

“Here I stand,” you whispered and a single tear streamed down your cheek.

“Almárea asked me about us,” Sauron put his hands on your arms and moved away slightly to be able to look at your face. “She wonders if we still love each other. I told her it was complicated.”

“I told her the very same thing,” you smiled sadly.

“But it is not, is it?” He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, laughing nervously through your tears.

“No,” you admitted. “It is not.”

“It is true that I had my reasons to choose you out of all Elven maidens. And it is true that I was scared of having a son with you because I thought that the chances of a son overthrowing me would be higher,” he admitted and you furrowed your brows. “But you have become the most dear to me, the most precious,” he confessed and turned you around, making you look at Mount Doom as his hands lowered themselves to your abdomen.

You knew what he was about to do. You flinched at first, torn on the inside if it was truly what you wanted. Last time you had been deceived but now you would willingly allow it, despite knowing the true nature of the man who was your husband.

You looked down at his hands resting on your womb. He was still wearing a golden ring on his finger that you had put there on the day of your wedding. And you were still wearing yours because you still loved him despite hating yourself for it. You still wanted to be around him as if he was something addictive that you could not live without. And your womb was still open for more of his offspring.

You relaxed and when he sensed your consent, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his hands and filling you up, forming a new life inside of you.

You put your hands on top of his and squeezed them for courage.

“A son,” he whispered into your ear with lots of satisfaction and excitement.

“Another tool for you to use,” you pointed out.

“Another child for you to love and spoil,” Sauron brushed your hair strand and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Another thread of love binding us together.”

“Mummy? Daddy?” Almárea’s voice made you both turn around. She walked out of the bathroom in her new dress and kept looking at you two with a big grin. “Does it mean you are in love again?” She asked, full of hope.

“Oh, my darling, we have never stopped being in love,” you assured her and opened your arms to allow her to give you a hug. You did not want her to know all the details about the nature of your relationship with her father. She had already seen and witnessed way too much.

She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight, which only made her smile grow even wider as she looked up.

“I am going to have a sibling!” She exclaimed, happily, after sensing the new life inside of you.

“You are going to have many,” Sauron spoke as he reached his hand out to caress her hair. “And each of you will get their own kingdom to rule over in my name and their own Ring,” he shared his new plan as a shiver went down your spine. “And all Middle-earth will be healed at once for your mother’s light and my darkness combine like two precious metals; balancing and amplifying everything I could ever be on my own.”

“But… But you will still rule over us all, right, daddy?” Almárea asked hopefully, as if she was already scared of the responsibility that one day would be put upon her shoulders.

“Oh, of course, little one,” Sauron smiled lovingly at her. “I shall always bear the biggest burden of power for that is a father’s one to carry.”

He loved her – of that you were sure now. But no amount of his love could protect her from his schemes and his manipulations. Therefore, he had to love you as well and no amount of cruelty he had put you through contradicted it.

That was the way Sauron loved. It was a cursed devotion but also a blessed one.

MASTERLIST

[baphometsss]

On Solas's romantic history

Okay. I know what the consensus is. That he’s way too smooth in Inquisition to be inexperienced but... (and I’m fully prepared to get shat on for this lmao don’t kill me)

When he kisses Lavellan, that doesn’t read to me like he’s super suave and seductive. It reads more like—endeared by them trying to run away after kissing him, then being so surprised by how good the kiss felt, that he grabs Lavellan, kisses them again, pulls back with a surprised look on his face, and then goes in for more. It’s touch-starved, desperate, hungry. It’s not really all that smooth because he’s literally bending them over backwards lmao like Solas can you chill maybe

He is very smooth when flirting with Lavellan, but he's also an absolute gobshite who's spent thousands of years sassing the hell out of wannabe gods so that's not a surprise. He's witty af and enjoys some back and forth.

Solas is a very lonely man. He keeps everyone at arm’s length because he’s seen what getting close to people can do to him. His biggest fear is dying alone, and he almost gives into that because it’s what he believes he deserves for all he’s done. His life has been so stressful for so long that he's almost totally unable to consider anything else but his battles. He even says explicitly that he's tired.

That doesn’t make me think of someone who was out there in Ancient Elvhenan sleeping around all those years. No doubt he considered it, but he likely didn't pursue much with anyone physical; he enjoyed spending as much time as possible in the Fade. (The banter with Blackwall doesn't count to me personally since Solas himself thinks the whole idea is preposterous, which speaks for itself really.) Especially after being a slave/servant to Mythal seems to have voided him of his agency for some time. Then he led a rebellion and fought for thousands of years against brutal tyrants. Any one of the people he was close to could’ve been trying to kill him. Lavellan, however, has no reason to do so, so he can flirt with them freely. In all that time, it seems as though the only people he allowed to get close to the real him were Felassan and Mythal. I don’t think he slept with either, because the relationship was familial. Felassan was also loyal to Mythal, but didn’t burn his vallaslin off. (Is this a right hand/left hand of the Divine parallel again? Two brothers and their mother? Idk, I need to think about that one). For creatures with bodies made from the blood of Titans, they don’t have blood families. They would’ve had to forge their own, which is what Solas did with Mythal and Felassan.

And then there’s his ‘it has been a long time’. Most have taken this to mean that it’s been a long time since he’s been intimate with someone, but given what we know now and that he spent thousands of years in the Fade while his body was in uthenera… I wonder if he’s actually saying-- ‘it has been a long time since I lived in a body’-- ie. ‘it has been a long time since I felt physical drives, a long time since I have felt so physically real’. To me, this makes a lot more sense than the ‘he’s thousands of years old he can’t possibly be a virgin/inexperienced’ take bc like... My friends. It probably didn’t feel like thousands of years to him bc he’s essentially always existed. Time is different for spirits. It’s not like he’s gonna go: ‘well I’m nearly 4000y/o, better lose my v-card’. Time is no object when you are a timeless being. Then, given the path his life took, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense for him to be that experienced given how hard it is for him to trust.

I also personally headcanon him as heavily demisexual/demiromantic too. His true nature is so non-physical that the idea of him being very promiscuous or something just doesn’t fit his character. He needs a mental connection, to feel something, before sharing much of himself, or allowing himself the vulnerability intimacy brings, something he clearly feels with Lavellan based on how shaken up by it he is.

And it’s also canon that Solas has never been in love before meeting Lavellan. So. If he went however many millennia without falling in love, it’s also possible he went without intimacy for a long time too.

To be clear I’m not trying to say that this is the correct conclusion. My opinion has just changed a little since Veilguard (I used to think he was being smooth etc bc he's old af/v experienced, but with confirmation of former spirit Solas it’s changed my perspective somewhat)

Also:

‘Things have always been easier for me in the Fade’

‘I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams’ my man is shooketh guys SHOOKETH

[avonne-writes]

would love to see nr. 18 nr. 22 and 37 from the prompt list together!! «truth or dare» with «secret relationship» where their relationship get exposed bc john gets dared to kiss someone else, and gale is possessive

After such a long wait, I finally had a chance to write this. Thank you for the prompt! 🩷 Teenage awkwardness ahead, from an outsider POV.

Truth or dare - HS AU, beginning of Year 10

Why is it that the jocks at Olivia's school throw the lamest parties ever? Her older sister always used to brag about how much fun she had at these things back in the day - two years ago - but Olivia's just bored. Like, it's an absolute snoozefest. Putting on makeup for this wasn’t worth it. Not to mention the two hours she spent straightening her hair and looking for a top that complemented her green eyes. With the shit music they're playing, the whole thing was just a waste of time.

They’re all sitting around in a cramped living room that smells like her brother's socks and the P.E. locker room, and most of the boys are not even cute at all. They all have such bony arms, ugh. Olivia is attracted to real men, older boys. At least two years older. That's where she draws the line. The guys in her year are way too immature for her attention.

Okay, fine, if she really had to choose, Gale Cleven isn’t half bad. He’s kinda fit, more muscular than these soccer boys who can’t stop talking about Messi or whatshisname. He’s got beautiful blue eyes. A piercing stare. Zapphire orbs that glitter with interest when they meet Olivia's… She sighs, taking a sip of her soda and taking a furtive look at Gale where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor across from her. She likes boys with an actual personality. Gale has shoulder-length blond hair, which is pretty unique, but he’s a bit too quiet. What if he's boring too?

Plus, dating Gale would come with the unfortunate side effect of having to spend time with Bucky. Olivia had a crush on him last year, but it faded after a while, and she hates him now. She doesn’t get why he's so popular when he's just a stupid player. He flirts but never actually asks you out. Her past self was dumb for falling for his bright smile and loud personality.

Maybe, going for someone quiet is just what she needs. No, not quiet - mysterious. Yes, that's a better word to describe Gale. He’s smart and sweet and fit, and he wears neat clothes, not just plain, wrinkled t-shirts like Bucky. He takes care of himself. And he doesn’t have acne either. She bets he smells nice. Probably like - like cedar and sandalwood and an earthy, musky scent that she would still smell on her clothes hours after kissing him…

Suddenly, Gale's gaze flickers over to her, so she looks down for a second. Heat rises to her cheeks. But, she read somewhere that if you can keep eye contact with a guy for at least 5 seconds, they will begin to like you, and if it goes up to 10 seconds, they fall in love with you. It sounded like a good method, so she has decided to go for it every chance she gets. Telling herself that she's a bold and pretty girl, she looks up and finds Gale's eyes again. One, two, three - Ah!

It was so close! But Bucky had to choose that moment to tug at a lock of Gale's hair. Can’t he just leave Gale alone? Why does he need everyone’s attention all the time?

Disappointed, Olivia turns back to her conversation with her friends, but she makes sure to glance at Gale every now and then, to give that eye contact another chance. For the most part, Gale doesn’t return her gaze, but she can understand why - Bucky's constantly talking to him, his pale face flushed, sweat on his neck and a permanent smile in his eyes. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so annoying. Like, obsessed much?

She wonders how those two get along so well. Gale is a sensitive boy, a romantic soul, she can tell, and Bucky's all about video games and whatnot. And the way he's sitting is so irritating too, can’t he close his legs? His thigh is brushing Gale's knee. It’s clearly making Gale uncomfortable, because he fidgets and bounces his leg a little. Trying to make Bucky catch on that he’s way too close, no doubt. He gives Bucky an awkward smile, looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and instead of realizing how overbearing he is, Bucky just hands Gale his own drink. As if he expects him to hold it for him or something. Ridiculous.

“Dave!” One of the soccer boys yells at their host over the thumping beat.

“What?”

“I'm fucking bored, man!”

“Go fuck off then!”

The boys flip each other off, and some of the others laugh as if it’s the funniest thing they've ever seen, even though this happens every single day at school. Olivia rolls her eyes. Is it some weird male ritual to insult each other over literally nothing while the others laugh like a pack of demented hyenas? This is why she has given up on these dumbasses.

Sweet Gale would never act like this. He’s a gentleman. The kind of man who'd give his lady a thousand red roses on Valentine's before telling her he loves her. Olivia can feel this in her heart.

When she looks at him again, she sees him pull his knees up and rest his elbows on them, then his head on his folded arms, looking at Bucky. With his usual clueless grin, Bucky says something to him that Olivia doesn’t catch, then he bends one of his knees to bump it into Gale's.

Oh my God, Olivia thinks, this boy really can’t take a hint.

She has suspected for a while that Bucky is socially impaired, not in the introverted weirdo way but like, he’s too much and he doesn’t realize it. How his friends put up with it, she has no idea. But it's clear that Gale is pulling back now, because he pushes Bucky's knee away, and when Bucky grabs his wrist in retaliation, he starts scuffling with him with one hand.

“O-kay, who wants to play spin the bottle?” Dave calls out. A mix of cheers and boos follow.

Excited, Olivia perks up. Gosh, this would be the perfect opportunity!

Her mind speedruns a daydream for her. She imagines Gale spinning the bottle, biting his plump lip nervously as he waits for it to slow down. When it rolls to a stop pointing at Olivia, he’d relax though. He might have been hoping for this, for a chance to get closer to her. He might even give her a shy smile. As everyone watches, he’d take her face in his gentle hands, wait for her to nod to make sure it's okay, and then he'd lean in ever so slowly and press a tender kiss to her lips. He’d pull back an inch after a second, but he wouldn’t be able to let her go just yet - he’d close the distance again, not able to hide his passion any longer.

Pleasepleaseplease, she chants like a mantra, curling her legs under herself to sit as attractively as one can on an ugly IKEA rug, leaning against a couch. Her best friend shares a look with her and giggles as Benny DeMarco chugs down half a bottle of Fanta just to have something they can use to spin. That one's going to be an alcoholist, Olivia has no doubt. And he doesn’t even have blue eyes. Not her type.

As Dave lowers the volume of his trash music - finally! - some of the other girls start protesting the game choice. Olivia narrows her eyes at them. She doesn’t mind giving a quick peck to a couple of clumsy fuckboys if she gets to kiss Gale in the end. But if these girls ruin this for her -

“Fine! Fine, Jesus.” Dave raises his hands in surrender, and the girls stop whining. “How about truth or dare then?”

That seems good enough for everyone. Spin the bottle would have given Olivia a bigger chance at getting to kiss Gale, but whatever, truth or dare isn’t so bad either, and some of the questions might be funny at least. Again, she tries to catch Gale's eyes, running a hand through her long brown hair, but he’s looking at the floor and smiling at whatever Bucky's whispering in his ear. After a moment, he laughs and tells Bucky to shut up.

Glaring at Bucky, Olivia wills him to listen this time.

The game is pretty tame at first. A few people are asked if they have a crush on anybody, Dave is dared to show them his underwear, which is something Olivia will have to scourge from her mind, then her best friend has to tell them her most embarrassing memory. It’s quite funny. As they get more into the game, the questions start getting better too, until finally, the bottle lands on Gale. Olivia can feel her cheeks burn with excitement. Predictably, he chooses truth first - but that’s okay, because he, too, is asked the usual question:

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Some of their classmates groan, and Dave throws a handful of chips at the person who asked this lame question again, so the boy adds, “In this room?”

Olivia holds her breath. She tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter if Gale says no, it’s not like he’s the only guy in the world, but her heart still races as Gale's lips twitch into an unreadable smile. So sexy and mysterious!

“Yeah, I do.”

A few whoops and laughter follow, and Bucky, obnoxious as ever, whistles. Something about that makes Gale laugh. The way his nose crinkles is the most adorable thing Olivia has ever seen. Suddenly, she wonders if the knowing looks Gale shares with Curt and DeMarco are a sign that the boys know who the lucky girl is. It has to be a sign. She tries to see if any of them look at a particular girl, and she flushes when DeMarco's eyes land on her. She tries to read his gaze for long seconds, but when he smiles, she glances away, embarrassed. If it’s her, she'll know soon enough!

They play a few more rounds without anything interesting happening. When it’s her turn at last, Olivia chooses dare, but her task is to drink a sip from a disgusting concoction they mix for her using ketchup and soda. The smell alone is enough to make her gag, but she pinches her nose shut and does it. It's absolutely vile, and she hates how it lingers in her mouth.

Washing it down with water doesn’t help much either. She's on the brink of getting upset about it, when, like a literal knight in shining armor, Gale reaches across the space between them and offers her a bubblegum.

“Oh.” Olivia blushes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she looks at Gale’s kind expression. When she reaches out, her fingers brush Gale's. “Thank you, Gale.”

Even saying his name makes her heart flutter. And then the way he smiles at her in return!

As she pops the gum in her mouth, he also puts one in his, and at that moment, she feels a synchronicity she has never felt before. It’s an incredible feeling to be so attuned to someone that without talking or practicing, you just mirror each other instinctually. It can't be a coincidence. Even if he's not doing it on purpose, Gale is connected to her, she can tell.

Gosh, what if it really happens tonight? Most of her previous crushes ended in disappointment - khm, Bucky - but this time, she has much higher hopes. She knows her senses are getting better, that she can pick up on all the signs easier. Tonight might just be the night.

She feels giddy from this thought, right until it’s Bucky's turn to play.

“Truth or dare?” Curt asks him with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Bucky's trademark cocky grin makes an appearance. “Gimme your worst, Biddick. Dare.”

Curt’s smile widens. “Take Buck's bubblegum out of his mouth and put it in yours without using your hands.”

“Ewww!” Most of the room alternates between gagging, laughing and looking at Curt in awe for coming up with such a disgusting task. Even with her small crush on Gale, Olivia wouldn’t do it, it’s too much. Although… Actually, if it got her a kiss, maybe she would.

As she goes through this thought process, she comes to the horrifying realization that Bucky would have to kiss Gale to complete the dare. She blanches. It wouldn’t mean anything, of course, but poor Gale, this isn’t even his dare.

One of the girls takes out her phone and starts recording. Bucky just winks at her like he’s not fazed at all by the dare. He’s such a fuckboy, honestly. Olivia hates how that behaviour still makes something in her belly stir. She watches with her eyebrows trying to disappear under her bangs as Bucky leans into Gale's space, looks at his lips, then bats his eyelashes at him in an over-the-top gesture. Gale just looks amused.

“Can you please give me your gum, Buck?”

“Hey!” Curt tries to interrupt through a surprised laugh.

“You didn't say I couldn’t use his hands.” Bucky shrugs, still grinning, and opens his mouth. His tongue sticks out.

To Olivia's astonishment, Gale doesn't protest. He snickers, then reaches a hand up to his lips. In front of their disgusted eyes, he takes the chewed-up gum out of his mouth and puts it in Bucky's.

“Fuck, that's disgusting.” Dave chortles gleefully as Bucky leans back on his hands, chewing away with a smug expression on his face. The rest of the room gags, cringes and laughs until Bucky spins the bottle, then they move on to the next round.

Olivia watches Gale's face for discomfort, but he seems to have found the dare funny. He shakes his head at Bucky fondly. When his eyes find Olivia's, he gives her a sheepish smile. It makes the butterflies in her stomach go crazy with exhilaration. She grins back.

Although it started out as a total flop, the night feels like a dream now. And in dreams… well, anything can happen, right?

The game picks up after that. The dares get more challenging, the questions juicier, and even though Olivia doesn’t get the kind of opportunities she's waiting for, she finds herself having fun. Being as attentive as he is, Gale always watches the person whose turn it is, not Olivia, but she finds that endearing. She wishes he'd catch her eyes more often, but it's okay, quiet boys usually struggle with eye contact. Except for DeMarco, apparently, because anytime she glances his way, he’s looking back. She wonders if he's just zoned out or something or if there’s something else there. He’s not that ugly, if she thinks about it…

Another ripple of laughter pulls her out of her thoughts. The bottle lands on Bucky again, and he says dare before Dave has even finished asking the question.

At Bucky’s response, Dave wiggles his eyebrows. “Kiss the hottest girl in this room on the lips.”

It's simple enough. And surely, for someone like Bucky who - according to the gossip Olivia heard - can’t go without a girlfriend for more than a month, this can’t be too hard to complete. A part of her aches in the hope that it's her. Not that she wants Bucky Egan, dumb jock extraordinaire, to kiss her. It’s just nice to be kissed, that's all. And it would be flattering if he chose her as the hottest. Better yet, it might make Gale jealous.

Oh Gosh, wouldn’t that be perfect? What if Bucky started leaning in and Gale pulled him away at the last moment just to lean in himself and claim the prize? Everyone would be so shocked!

Widening her eyes innocently, Olivia watches Bucky's face for a sign. She ignores the wave of feelings that take her back to last year when she had that ill-advised crush on him. She waits for him to notice her, but he seems unable to look away from Gale’s eyes. This time, they aren't smiling. Something serious flickers between them. Bucky's eyebrows draw together in a way that makes him look like a puppy with gangly legs and arms. To Olivia, Gale's expression is unreadable, but when Gale’s lips purse, Bucky turns back to Dave.

“Sorry, man, gotta forfeit.”

“Aww, what, you getting stage fright?” Dave laughs at his own lame joke. “I was going easy on you!”

“Dude, you were just not inclusive enough.” One of the other boys pipes up. “Should’ve said hottest person.”

“Oh, right. You just want to kiss me, huh, Egan?” Dave makes an annoying kissy noise.

Bucky grins again, his previous discomfort gone. “In your dreams, Davey-boy.”

“You bet.” Dave snorts, then gestures at the circle of them sitting around. “Okay, I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

Again, Bucky hesitates. It's confusing. Olivia doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s as if she's missing a crucial piece of the puzzle, something she should have noticed already but ended up overlooking. She's still trying to make sense of it when her night comes crashing down around her like a sudden storm that leaves you shivering and cold to the bone.

Bucky reaches up with a loving but sure hand, cups Gale's cheek and pulls him into a kiss like it’s something he has done before.

Their lips meet and part with a soft, damp sound that feels loud in the sudden silence that descends on their group.

It might as well be the sound of Olivia's heart being torn apart. A deep ache blooms in her chest where her joy was planted earlier tonight. Her mind refuses to accept what she's seeing. It’s not a first kiss. It’s sure as hell not a kiss forced on two boys by a dare, it’s not a prank taken a step too far. They've done this before. A dozen, a hundred, or a thousand times. They know which way to turn their heads to make it comfortable, how to tilt their chin for the sweetest contact, how to stroke the other's hair to earn a smile.

They know how to kiss each other and they enjoy it.

With a small smile, Gale draws back an inch, but Bucky doesn’t let him go too far - he pushes forward to chase Gale's lips. Right in front of them all, Gale returns this by opening his mouth, and Bucky takes the chance to lick inside and kiss the taste of bubblegum on Gale’s tongue as if he forgot they had an audience to watch it all.

A cacophony erupts around them, everyone talking over each other in excitement and confusion.

Please tell me this was just a dare, Olivia's breath hitches in pain. Shocked into silence, she starts fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Only parts of reality seem to reach her consciousness - the words boyfriend and 8 months, and the sight of Gale's hand in Bucky's, thumb stroking back and forth. How? When did this happen? Why didn’t she notice it all this time? It's so pathetic that she wants to laugh at herself. She managed to develop crushes on two boys who were secretly dating each other.

Universe, is this supposed to be a sign?

Oh, how it hurts that she's always the one who turns out to be delusional.

As she mopes there quietly, watching the sweet smile on Gale’s face, the sudden warmth of a shoulder pressing to hers draws her attention away. When she turns to look up, her green eyes meet brown.

“You okay?” DeMarco asks. The concern in his gentle voice sounds like a balm to her broken heart.

She takes a deep breath and musters a smile. He feels warm and solid, someone you can rely on.

Well. Maybe Benny DeMarco isn’t such a bad option after all. Bucky and Gale can have each other, Olivia's probably better off like this anyway.

The next party can only be luckier than this, she's sure.

[windybluebelles]

Ok, Gang, I need you to take a deep breath. Ok, your doing great now-

I know some people get a bit squiffy at the implication of Talia being a bad partner, that’s ok, enjoy what you enjoy, but-

-And we’re all still taking nice even breaths aren’t we, yes? Good,-

There is no way that Talia and Jason could have a healthy romantic relationship.

…

I feel like I hyped it up too much- OK

Im not saying that Bruce and Talia is always unhealthy and I’m not saying that Talia herself is the most evil character ever.

I’m just saying that she shouldn’t be dating Jason.

She met Jason when he was approximately 16 and had just come back to life, he was incredibly unwell (possibly comatose for quite a while) and she was his primary care taker. Once he had been dunked in the pit and started training with the league, he was still indebted to her for like saving him or something.

For most of the time that they canonically spent together, he was underage and incredibly vulnerable.

He has been convinced that everyone from his old life didn’t care for him, she was probably the only stable adult presence in his life at the time.

None of those things are the base of a healthy romantic relationship (with the power dynamics and pedophilia) but she was also the mother of his brother. As in, she had sex with his father, and that would be weird even without the other stuff.

Im not saying that they couldn’t have had any other friendly relationship, but any romantic/sexual relationship she had with him during the time he was with the league would be weird and make her a bad person.

I can really enjoy Talia as a character, but her being written dating any of the batkids is weird.

[artslovergirl]

art & patrick at mark rebellato academy

[headcanons]

notes: i really enjoyed writing this because i just genuinely adore these characters and this movie so much. there's so many interesting little details and nuances there that i could just talk about forever and ever. i truly hope i did them justice here lol (also writing this made me jealous of people that are good at writing character analysis' and thinkpieces bc wow it is hard!) but yeah enjoy!

wordcount: 3.4k

they met at age 12 during their first day at the mark rebellato academy in their now shared room. 

when art came in with a duffel bag (that looked comically big next to his scrawny kid body) patrick was already sitting on the bed he had claimed(the right side next to the door) all by himself, his parents didn't have a very tearful nor long goodbye as they sent their son off to boarding school.

in contrast art’s mom and grandma seemed keen to embarrass him in front of his new roommate with their cooing and hugging him goodbye. 

it wasn't even like his mom and him were really all that close though. she just seemed to want to squeeze in all the moments of a loving mother-son relationship into the small segments of time she actually spent with him.

the goodbye hug and small ruffle of his hair from his grandma felt a little more genuine. embarrassing all the same as he could feel the other dark haired boy try not to crack up at the display.

"mom. please." he pleaded with her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "i’m sorry, artie, but i need to make up for all the time i'm gonna miss with you!" yeah, he bets.

a few minutes later and a tear or two from his mother they did finally leave him be. as soon as he heard the door shut though, the awkward silence enveloping the room almost made him miss them. 

he threw his duffel bag on the left bed and sat down on the edge. he fidgeted with his bottom lip, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he could remember. 

the brunette boy shifted on the bed so he was now facing him. his mouth pulled into a toothy grin "so you're...artie?" 

art groaned and hid his head in his hands, slumped over his knees. "no, that's..just my moms nickname for me. sorry you had to see that." he says in a squeaky broken voice which didn't help the embarrassment he was already feeling.

the other boy just brushed right past all that and said "i’m patrick." and then as an afterthought, "zweig."

"uh." art leaned back up, still avoiding his gaze. it was weirdly intense. "yeah, i’m..art. um, donaldson." he said the last part like it was a question almost.

patrick began to swing his legs a little. it was clear to him that art was the quiet type even if they had just exchanged a few words so far, but luckily patrick didn't mind talking. it was something his father always hated about him. he almost talked enough for both of them which after a little while finally seemed to break the ice of art's shy exterior. 

art didnt know what he thought about patrick yet. he was pretty..confident that was for sure. even a little arrogant, maybe. art scolded himself internally for being so judgemental. it was quality he hated about himself, but seemingly couldn’t get rid of.

despite all of that he had to admit that patrick was easy to talk to. there was never an uncomfortable gap in conversation with him. which art liked since those kinds of things made him want to crawl out of his skin sometimes.

that first night he spent staying up with patrick, slowly realizing how much they had in common while simultaneously being complete opposites, is one of his fondest memories and probably always will be. he never experienced another connection that felt anything even close to that.

their room wasn't too small but with the way patrick would just constantly toss his clothes wherever he pleased it seemed a lot smaller. 

it's not like art was insanely neat or anything, he was still a teenage boy. patrick was just exceptionally messy.

"patrick, this shit is so gross, i told you to use the hamper." 

patrick groaned, "youre such a neatfreak, fuck off." 

at that response a pair of dirty boxers were thrown at his head, courtesy of art. "i don't want to see or smell your worn underwear. that doesn't make me a neatfreak." 

patrick just tossed it back in art’s direction, to which the blonde quickly scurried out of the way to dodge it like his life depended on it. 

"you know if tennis doesn't work out for you, you'll make a good housewife." patrick grinned mockingly.

“ha-ha.” art just rolled his eyes, stuck up his middle finger and let the door slam behind him with his racket bag slung over his shoulder. 

trying to get patrick to do anything was like trying to teach a cat to do a trick without any treats. borderline impossible. so by age 15 art finally gave up.

...until he realized a year later that patrick would clean his side of the room whenever they had a girl over so..

yeah, sometimes he did lie and tell patrick that a girl was coming over just so he would clean his side of the room. 

you can judge him all you want but you never had to room with patrick zweig

 and after the third time that trick stopped working anyway. art was never a good liar. or maybe patrick could just call his bullshit way too easily.

they didn't fight too often, it was more like they constantly got into little tiffs

except for that time where it got so out of hand that they duct-taped a line dividing their rooms into two sides. (i know this is giving sitcom i'm sorry but tell me i'm wrong)

eventually they kind of forgot what they even fought about in the first place but they were too lazy to take the tape off of the carpet, so it just stayed on there for like 2 years till it peeled off.

like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES

they would def talk shit all the time. they were not even trying to be secret about it tbh. (see: them staring at anna crying at tashi's party)

they sat in the bleachers watching one of their classmates play a practice match

“dude, look at that forehand. it sucks.” art muttered. patrick nodded, “i know. no way she’ll even make it through the semester.” “i’ll be surprised if she makes it through this match without fracturing her wrist.” patrick snickered at art’s comment.

actual mean girls LMAO

and to be fair, they were fucking amazing at tennis, especially when they played together

so it's not like anyone could necessarily insult them back

but it also wasn't bullying or anything

they were just judgy and loved to talk shit

art had some decorum about it or felt bad about it sometimes. not patrick though. 

man has no shame. never did. as art so lovingly puts it “the part of his brain that feels shame withered away a long time ago.”

art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14 

he then switched to contact lenses because patrick said girls dont like guys with glasses and that they make him look nerdy

they weren't allowed to have any sort of electronics like computers or flip phones at the academy. not even mp3 players. 

now obviously patrick completely ignored that rule. he had like three flip phones under his bed in case his actual one ever got taken (it did)

he also smuggled in 2 mp3 players (one was for art, patrick is so kind… he did charge him 4 dollars for it though. that rich asshole. lmao)

honestly i would like to insert here what i think they would have listened to but..i was like..a baby when they wouldve been at the academy so..feel free to drop your music headcanons in the reblogs or comments 

they were only allowed one weekly call to their families from the communal landline.

neither patrick nor art were very fond of these calls so even though they weren't supposed to they would always go into the phone room together.

patricks mother always insisted on speaking in german with her son. he thought she only did it because it made her feel more connected to his father’s side of the family. not like it would fix their fucked up marriage though. 

“nein, mama, ich habe mein deutsch nicht vergessen.” (no, mom, i havent forgotten my german) he sighs. art sits on the floor next to him and flicks a rubber band at him. “ja, verstanden. ja, ich weiß.” (yes, understood. yes, i know.) he rolls his eyes. 

art understood a few of the basic words since patrick taught him some german after art asked how to correctly pronounce his last name. 

“..bis nächste woche. tschüss.” (talk to you next week. bye.) he hung up. his mom said i love you but he knew she didn't mean it so he didn't say it back. 

patrick groaned and stretched out his legs that were seemingly getting longer by the day (art secretly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him taller than patrick. right now he was still pretty short for a guy his age.) 

he handed the phone to art. “she always talks so much. it's like i'm not even on the other line.” patrick scowls. art just nodded. he knew that by now.

art called his grandma but his dad picked up instead. it was okay. talking to his dad felt a little like talking to some distant uncle that he only saw once a year, “how's it going, champ?” “good.” “great.” that kinda stuff

the phone call lasted 5 minutes. he stood up and hung the phone back on the receiver. 

“wanna smoke?” patrick asked already reaching for the two loose cigarettes stuffed into his jean shorts pocket.

art nodded. he didn't really like smoking, and he kind of only did it because patrick did. and whenever he did, all he could think about was how bad for him it was. 

he was always pretty conscious about that kinda stuff, it was a little drilled into him by his dad who was the most adamant about art becoming a tennis player since he used to be one when he was younger.

so sugar and fats (basically anything that tasted good) were pretty much banned in the donaldson household 

which kind of resulted in art subconsciously believing that anything that brought him joy or pleasure must be inherently bad for him or followed by a feeling of guilt and shame to make up for it.

needless to say art wasn't the best at indulging. he was a little jealous of how patrick never seemed to have any issue with that sort of thing.

patrick didn't care about maintaining a good diet or depriving himself of life's pleasures for the sake of tennis. he took what he wanted like life owed it to him. 

maybe that's why he smoked with patrick. to try and be more like him?

also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.

most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.

at the academy they were the definition of ‘not sold separately’

if you saw one the other wasn't far behind

its not like they didn't have other friends. they did. they were pretty popular actually

but none of those friendships were anything like what art and patrick had.

especially when playing doubles.

it felt like they could communicate telepathically 

patrick knew when art was going for the ball before the other team even served and vice versa.

tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.

and it felt so easy, it felt like nothing they needed to work on. their friendship was the same. it was so easy, so natural.

after about a year or so of being friends they started being in sync. literally.

they cross their legs at the same time, they pick up their rackets at the same time, they adjust their forehand grip at the same time, they walk at the same pace, they sit down the same etc etc you get it

also that isn't really a headcanon, like this is canon in the movie. and it makes me SICK that they were still in sync in 2019. after not talking for 12 years. shut up that’s some soulmate shit

now let's talk about something else that is canon…the pushed together beds.

yes!

now, i think patrick is a person that is pretty open with his body in general in terms of like being physically affectionate. or just being physical. 

i don't know if art is, i think he's a little more reserved. (repressed if you will! i will!)

but patrick touching him so casually does fill a little tiny (gaping) void in him that yearns for touch.

he is a professional yearner as we all know

and patrick never had an issue satisfying those yearnings for him. (i think we saw that in the fact that patrick taught art how to jerk off ok next topic)

patrick would sling his arm around his shoulder, lay his long legs over arts lap, ruffle arts curls (“stop that, you're messing them up.” “no, i'm not they always look like this”),he would barge into their room after practice flopping his tall sweaty body on top of art to annoy him.

they were very physically affectionate it was just all under the guise of shoving and tripping each other and just general teenage boy roughhousing shenanigans. that counts as a love language to me ok!

art got used to patrick touching him very quick and even reciprocated sometimes 

also i do think that sometimes patrick would smack art’s ass as a joke. lol. (that's inspired by that video of the two doubles players doing that…do you guys know what i’m talking about)

OK SO!

the beds.

they were 16. patrick suggested it. “these beds are too fucking small.” he complained, laying on his staring at the smoke detector that he had covered with a shower cap so it wouldnt detect the smoke from his cigarettes. 

and to be fair…yeah. patrick stood at 1,80 cm right now and his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

art looked up from his book which he was only reading to impress a girl he had a crush on. patrick had told him to just pretend he read it but art said that was disingenuous and he wanted to know what she liked and why she liked it. 

“you know what we should do? we should push our beds together.” patrick sat up, grinning like he just had the best idea ever. 

arts features twisted up in thought. “isn't that a little close?” 

“nah, why, we still have our own beds. just more space.” patrick shrugged.

he glanced at their beds. “uhhh…i guess we can do that. the beds are a little cramped. although is that even allowed?” art began fidgeting with his lip like he usually did when he was in thought.

but patrick was already in the process of shoving his bed next to arts after which he let himself fall onto the two beds in a starfish position, with his gangly limbs almost stretching to every corner of the beds. “oh. great. and i’ll just curl up at the foot of the bed then?” art gave patrick a deadpan stare. 

“up to you.” patrick grinned in that specific way that really irked art. 

patrick did make some space for him once they actually went to sleep that night

even now they were two opposites making a whole

patrick always ran cold so he hogged all the blankets and art always ran hot so he immediately kicked them off of him as soon as he fell asleep 

that only made this new pushed together beds thing even better for patrick because he now got to have his own blanket AND steal arts every night

i wouldn't say they cuddled necessarily? i think it was more just like the regular amount of physical touching that happens when you sleep in the same bed

which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys

like their legs kind of thrown over each others, art’s arm occasionally draped over patricks chest (or literally on his face. art denies every time that he does it on purpose but patrick KNOWS he does it to annoy him. he knows.) 

one time art had a nightmare of being trapped under a rock only to wake up and find out that somehow patrick had rolled over in the middle of the night and was now laying COMPLETELY on top of art. right before he was about to push him off (because he was making art actively suffocate) patrick rolled over again and fell out of bed. he didn't even wake up from that. genuinely just slept on the floor that night. freak of nature that guy.

also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep

and i think it used to wake art up because he's a pretty light sleeper but eventually he just got used to it lol

when art went to stanford he never finished the last bite of anything he ate because he was so used to patrick being next to him and just stealing the last bite.

patrick really really wanted to get his ears pierced when he was 15. 

so naturally he asked art to do it for him.

you know…like how they did it in the parent trap. which if you asked them is a movie that they definitely haven't seen. ( but they did see it and art cried at the twins reuniting with their parents, oops.)

unfortunately for patrick art was very very squeamish with needles at that age (i think that mellowed down the older he got but he still refused to look whenever he got vaccinations or anything like that.) 

so now it was midnight, they were in their room sitting on the floor and arguing

“dude, just do it, stop being such a wuss. you're not even the one getting pierced.” patrick groaned, he had numbed his earlobe with ice but he could already feel a little bit of the feeling return to it, that's how long they had been sitting there with art squirming around because he hated even looking at the sewing needle.  

“that's worse though because i have to look at the needle going in your ear!” art argued

“ well, i can't do it myself.” patrick replied.

...

“are you wearing my shirt?” art squinted at him

“stop trying to change the subject.” 

“i told you to stop stealing my clothes. i don't want to do laundry that often.”

“can you focus?” patrick groaned

“dude.. okay, fine. just give me a second.” art took a deep breath.

“oh. my god. you're not performing open heart surgery.” 

“shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up.” 

and what do you know that response got art to get over his fear of needles for a second and stab that thing right through his best friends ear 

the little high pitched yelp patrick let out in surprise at that is something art didn't let him forget about for like two weeks after

it took about another hour for art to pierce patricks second ear and eventually they managed but then like a week later patrick forgot to put his earrings in and the piercings immediately grew shut

so all that drama was for nothing!

i think art has always kind of been the type of guy to want domesticity. 

i already posted about this somewhere but i kind of came to that conclusion because patrick said “he wants to spend time with his family” to tashi in the alley scene

patrick hadn’t spoken to art for like a decade at that point

and you could say it's a good guess but NO! 

patrick knows art like the back of his hand and patrick knows that art has always wanted a family and how much it probably kills him to miss out on time with them due to his career at that point in time (also just throwing this out there i think art always wanted to have a daughter more than a son, like that just makes sense to me. maybe bc i think his own relationship with his dad is so distant? idk!)

so yeah

also the sauna scene where patrick says that marriage isn't what he was for 

(to me) also implies that he is the opposite of art who was meant for marriage

anyway do i think that art shared his wishes for a family and marriage in the future with patrick? yes

do i think patrick jokingly made art promise to make him his best man? yeah

and furthermore do i think about the fact that patrick then had to read about arts wedding in some tabloid years later? yep!

i’m sure i could think of more in the future but that's all i've got for now! i hope this was coherent enough to enjoy because it’s not as proofread as my fics usually are lol! i just wanted to get these thoughts out there

if some of these seem familiar it might be because i took some of these from my twt!

i also have some more headcanons floating around on my tumblr that i didn't include here if you want to find those, or not, i'm not your mom! 

[kuchikki]

" this leaves an empty spot in my schedule "

pairing : byakuya kuchiki x afab!reader

tags : mdni , SMUT. , a little fluff if you squint , not proofread

a/n : lowkey i made this half-asleep so i mightve rushed it but i cant tell. BUT MY FIRST FIC PUBLISHED!!! i also dont write smut so this might be bad idk i feel like i rushed it

w/c : 1.4k

you were on your way back to the kuchiki mansion drenched in sweat after spending a few hours sparring with captain hirako, you made your steps quick and silently. as you found yourself in byakuya and your shared room, a servant slid open the door and shared a bit of alarming news

"mrs kuchiki, there will be guests arriving in 30 minutes." when you heard the news your eyes grew wide, you had no idea guests were coming over today. yet you kept your composure. you knew you had to clean up and make it quick.

"alright then, you may leave. thank you." you said to the servant as she closed the door and you quickly grabbed your kimono & undergarments then made your way to the bathhouse.

surprisingly, you made quick timing. took you about 23 minutes to wash off all your sweat and continue your after shower routine of washing your face and moisturizing your body.

you quickly walked over to you and byakuyas shared room yet again to drop off your shihakushō and greet your unexpected guests. but alas, when you open the sliding door you find byakuya taking off his captains hayori and bringing his hair down. you found yourself walking into the room and your mouth opened to ask questions.

"byakuya, why are you taking your coat and hair down? dont we have guests?" he slowly turned to you and answered you.

"they decided to cancel, how inconsiderate. but i musnt complain too much; this leaves an empty spot in my schedule." you found yourself relaxing your muscles and finally having a moment to take a deep breath. byakuya was a busy man, you found yourself falling asleep before and waking up after him every night. you spoke to ask him another question

"so then, what will you do with this "empty spot" in your schedule. im assuming you expected this to take the rest of your afternoon." you pondered. byakuya looked at you lovingly, you hadnt seen him look at you like this in weeks. it made your knees weak. but you didnt have your hopes high for anything to happen.

right as you were about to look away from him he opened his mouth to reply again.

"well, i was thinking my wife might need some "quality time" with me. its been quite a while since we have spent time with each other." his hand found his way to your cheek to cup your face and he pressed a kiss to your lips, you exchanged it back with him. the kisses quickly became heated and passionate, his tongue pressing your lips asking for entrance into your mouth. you obliged and your mouth quickly opened, releasing a moan. you didnt know how long that was being held there or that there was even one there.

you pulled away first in need of air so in that quick moment byakuya reached over and locked the door so nobody could interrupt this moment.

you felt a wetness start to pool up inbetween your thighs and you felt a sudden need to be as close to byakuya as possible. you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and brought your body as close as possible to him. you rapidly felt his growing erection and your face grew red, you both were probably thinking the same thing.

of course byakya couldnt look you, this is his dignity we are talking about here. you guys have done it a few times yet hes still embarrassed. when you grazed over his manhood he couldnt help but hiss a little from the friction. but of course, consent is needed before he must make any big move. he got close to your face and murmured into your ear.

"youre okay with what im about to do darling, right?" he warned. you looked at his face and nodded, but byakuya wasnt satisfied. so he opened his mouth again, a bit more demanding

"i need a verbal answer" you sighed but obliged. "of course." within seconds of the words spewing out your mouth he picked you up by the thighs and brought you to the bed and untied the ribbon to your floral kimono. you proceeded to make haste and take off the kimono, discarding it somewhere in the room.

byakuya looked at the baby blue lacy underwear with a matching bra set and its like his mouth watered. he teased at you, "oh, all this for me?".

you gave him an unamused look then smiled and kissed him again but mid-kiss you unexpectedly you felt pleasure run through your body and moaned as byakuya rubbed circles over your clothed clit.

you pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting you two. byakuya pushed your panties over to the side and shoved 2 of his digits in your wet cunt. he quickly pushed them in and out, clearly not having any patience for him to shove his dick in you. you found it amusing to watch the squad 6 captain slowly unravel right in-front of your own two eyes.

he could tell you were close to your release, you started to grip the sheets until your knuckles turned white and you kept squirming. thats when byakuya took his fingers out and you whined. he noticed this and quickly exclaimed "calm down, i never said i was leaving you."

he undid his ribbon on his shihakushō and took off his bottoms & boxers. he was rock hard and he grew impatient. he quickly took off your panties and shoved his rock-hard dick into your tight pussy. he immediately let out a well-needed moan and sat there, letting you adjust. after a few seconds he pulled back and started relentlessly pounding into you.

you didnt know how long you needed this but you felt your release building up yet again. a moan slowly came out your mouth in the sound of byakuyas name. the room became more and more stuffy as the daylight turned into night. you could tell byakuya was getting close by the way his thrusts got faster and he groaned more and more over time.

"i- im gunna- imma cuuuumm" you blurted out. everything was getting hazy and all you could hear was slapping noises of his balls against your ass.

"go ahead girl, you deserve it" he uttered. you came first but not a few seconds after you felt another hot liquid added to the mix in your cunt as byakuya threw his head back. he sat in that position for what felt like forever until he fell over beside you in bed.

after a few minutes of laying there until you both caught your breath and cooled down, byakuya got up and put his shihakushō back on and left your room. you were too tired to protest about it and wanted to just sleep.

you found yourself just about to doze off until your door opened again. it was byakuya, he came back with a wet rag and some water. he went over and cleaned you up. he then began to state how you should drink some water, which you did since you didnt want him scolding you for your bad health practices. a little bit after you murmured to him.

"are you coming back to bed?" he looked at you and replied, "only if you want me to." you immediately said please do, which led him to put on a take off his shihakushō and put on a plain shirt.

he came back into bed with you and you sprawled up close next to him. he rubbed your back and you profess something right as your about to fall asleep.

"could we spend more time together, byakuya?"

"ill try and find time in my schedule just for you."

@kuchikki 2024. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[thelonelyshore-if]

I want to request Beck sfw alphabet in case no one else has. I need it for...reasons.

I hope you're doing well, or as well as possible at least.

I'm trying to take it one day at a time; so I'm doing as well as can be expected. I hope you're doing well, too <3

Beck's alphabet below the cut!! I had a lot of fun with this one :3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very affectionate, but it's definitely in their own way. They're very teasing and playful, and they tend to show affection by trying to do things together rather than like…being warm and fuzzy. They do also show affection through kissing. Lots of kissing. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Beck is a wild friend to have. They're somebody who loves fun and adventure and basically never thinks about consequences. They'd be the friend you go to if you just want to have a good time, but probably not someone you'd talk about your trauma with. And the friendship would start when you do or say something that catches their eye–and they're pretty easy to impress, haha.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Ehhh up to a point. And that point is like. Five-ten minutes. Anything longer than that and they'll get restless and start to fidget. They really don't like feeling trapped in one place for too long. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nope! But he's alright at cleaning and quite good at cooking–baking especially. His go-to strategy to blow off steam in the winter (when it's too cold slash icy to be outside) is to furiously bake until he manages to calm down. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It wouldn't be pretty!! Beck is bad with emotions!! He'd be tempted to just ghost you, even after a long term relationship. And even when he did sit down with you to do it he'd be prickly and defensive and try to get it over with as quickly as possible. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Not good!! Dating stresses him out enough, marriage sounds impossible. It will take a LOT of character growth for him to even consider something like marriage.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Eh, Beck can be a bit rough around the edges. She doesn't know how to comfort people, especially because she's more of the ‘run away from all my problems’ type. She does try, though. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She's pretty hug neutral. Likes them well enough but doesn't seek them out. Her hugs are typically quick squeezes.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Ahahahaha. Ah. It takes a while. Though I could see her blurting it out without meaning to in a really intense emotional moment. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Beck can get pretty jealous. Not as much in a relationship, although it does definitely happen, but especially when they’re crushing and things aren’t official. They’re very clingy–trying to get MC’s attention, trying to be playful and endearing and fun. And they can be a bit catty with the person they’re jealous of.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Hot and fast and wild. Burning. Beck doesn’t do anything slowly and kisses are no exception. They like kissing their way down your torso, and they like being kissed on the neck and shoulders.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Beck’s great with kids! Like a camp counselor, or a little league coach. Not so much like a parent.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Sleep in as late as you can manage. Wake one another up with kisses–or more. Shower together after. Beck makes a big breakfast, unless you’re in a rush to do something–then grab something fast. The only times this would be broken up are days she decides to go for a morning jog. Mornings are probably the time she goes the slowest overall–she isn’t a morning person.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Staying up late doing something fun and entertaining. Motorcycle ride, going out to a bar, bonfire on the beach, ghost hunt in the forest. Never boring, if she can help it. You probably could talk her into getting cozy and watching a movie, but she’d get antsy half way through. Once it’s good and late and she’s exhausted, collapse into bed together. That’s her ideal night, anyway.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Beck claims to be an open book. Beck is a liar. She’s very open about surface-level things, and will openly complain about her (many) grievances with the town, but anything deeper? Her emotions–her feelings for you? That you’ll have to pry out of her with a crowbar.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

They’re quick to anger, quick to cool down. They don’t really hold grudges.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Eh, Beck tries their best. They remember the big stuff–like your birthday–but their mind tends to slip on the details. Especially if they’re distracted when they hear about it in the first place. They’re not the best at retaining that sort of thing.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Looking to the future: Beck’s first date will be an (optional) motorcycle ride, and then a walk along the river.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

VERY VERY VERY Beck will fight literally anyone or anything to keep you safe. They act without thinking, they’ll straight up tackle a monster unarmed to try and protect you. They’re a good shot and scrappy as hell, too, so they stand a chance. On the opposite end, they don’t actually love being protected. It makes them feel weak–like they should have been able to keep themself and you safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Beck gets creative with dates–or, as creative as they can in Easthaven. They don’t like doing the same thing twice, and put a lot of effort into keeping things exciting. As for gifts, they aren’t so much the type to agonize over getting you the ‘perfect gift’. More likely they’d buy something on impulse that reminded them of you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He’s reckless to the point of self-destruction, terrified of commitment, and would rather die than talk about his feelings. He also isn’t always the best listener. If his mind wanders or he’s distracted while you’re telling him something, there’s a not insignificant chance he’ll forget what you said altogether. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Very. Beck knows he’s attractive, he’s proud of that, and he works hard to keep it up. He likes looking good. Likes being desired.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh. Hm. This is complicated for them. Not for a long time, I think, but if you managed to get them in a dedicated relationship and they managed to get over some of their commitment issues, then I think they might lean this way, yeah. MC has the potential to become their whole world.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Beck is ambidextrous. Their grandpa was the most important person in the world to them, and they haven’t felt the same since he passed away. They don’t like sweets much but do like soda. In middle school they once accidentally started the science classroom on fire and was suspended for a week.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think one thing that would really unsettle Beck is a partner who tries to boss them around. They don’t mind somebody looking out for them–in fact, somebody tempering some of their more unwise decisions would be good for them. They like being challenged. But being treated like a child or a rowdy teenager would be an instant turn-off.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Beck’s somebody who can sleep just about anywhere. They prefer being cozy in bed or on a couch, sure, but they won’t balk at sleeping somewhere strange if it means getting a few hours in.

[bluestsdays]

devon can’t stop the memories that flood her mind as they stand here together, in a home that was once theirs. can’t help but remember how it felt to come home with him after a long night out, tired and far too drunk, his arms wrapped around her as their laughter bounced off the walls, stumbling to their room to help each other carefully peel their clothes off before sliding comfortably into bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms. or how they would make breakfast together on slow weekend mornings, drinking coffee in bed and spilling half of it on the sheets, or evenings spent listening to him read to her, staying up too late talking about anything and everything. maybe that’s why she couldn’t fathom leaving this place, despite his absence— so much good happened here. there was so much love embedded in these walls, in each creak of the floorboards, in every piece of furniture they picked out together. and now she could almost trick herself into believing they had gone back in time, that this was just another one of those nights, where she could just lead him to their bedroom, kissing all the way there, but it wasn’t. or at least, it shouldn’t be. despite how her lips tingle to kiss him again and again, she knows they’ve already crossed a line. but hearing him echo just how much he missed her, too, blurs it even further in her mind. that always happened with him, didn’t it ? he was the exception to every rule, the only person she would do absolutely anything for, if he asked, no matter the consequences. it’s intoxicating, being this close, kissing him, touching him, feeling the warmth of his body against her own one more time. even if he wasn’t technically hers anymore, god, was she so fucking lucky to have him at all. remains close as she smiles up at him, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. “ feels real to me, too, ” she whispers, so real that it’s almost visceral— her senses were overrun, her brain filled only with thoughts of them and the life they once shared, her heart overwhelmed with love and care. and it’s enough, just being here with him like this, but she can’t ignore that desire for more, even though she’s desperately trying to shove it down, to remind herself that there had to be some sort of boundary, that there were two other people to think about. it’s hard, though, when he’s kissing her, or looking at her like that, or when he reaches down to intertwine their fingers together so easily. fuck. “ me too. i've almost called you so many times, ” it’s followed with a squeeze of his hand, then, as her nose nudges against his own, tempted to close the gap and kiss him again, but she tries to hold onto any shred of self control she has left, just for good measure. even then, she doesn’t pull away. “ do you want to ? talk, i mean, ” she breathes, voice coarse. “ because we can. we should, probably, ” the words are a little shakier, now, as her free hand slides up to rest against his chest, curling against the material of his shirt as she leans in closer, lips skating against his. “ because i… i’m afraid that if i keep kissing you, i won’t be able to stop, and i’ll do something really fucking stupid, that i know i shouldn’t but that i can’t help because it’s you. ” — “ does that make me a terrible person, you think ? ”

even when things were different between them, when things weren’t laced with uncertainty and misunderstanding, miller was never quite able to grasp the inexplainable connection they shared, the power she had over him. and if he couldn’t explain it then, he definitely can’t now, as he finds himself wrapped up in her, kissing her in the familiar way that he does, the outside world fading to a quiet blur, when they’re in each other’s embraces. despite its openness, the display of love itself, it’s an intimate act between them, as if they’re the only two in existence, right now. he doesn’t shy away from it, from her, like he has done with someone else; uncaring as to who witnesses such a grand public display of affection. the world moving around them slowly comes back, as they part, lips buzzing, heart racing, hands shaking. he tucks them away, as he follows her to the front door, as if he could quell that need, desire. not for anything further, but just to… do that again, and again. until they’ve both run out of air and they’re turning blue in the face. god, how has he ever gone so long without something like that? because it’s love, he understands now, that still circulates between them, bringing them together again and again— how could he be so stupid, to try and convince himself that he could survive without it? heart beats a steady pattern in his chest, echoing in the cage of his ribs, as she unlocks the door, taken back in time to when this was their normal routine. when he would stand behind her, distracting as always, lips pressed to her neck or shoulders, his laughter against her skin, fingers against her waist, her hip. despite how much he may want to do that, now, he forces himself to hold back, as if to not overstep, to maintain some resemblance of a boundary, after what they’d just shared outside. that all goes out the window once they’re past the threshold of the door, his arms wrapping around her waist once she’s back against him. “ missed you, ” he echos back. “ so fucking much. ” and it’s one of his most vulnerable confessions of all, thinking back to those nights he’s spent alone, thoughts drifting to her, to wishing that she could be here with him. he transmits that into the kiss they share, here, in the apartment they used to share— the walls whispering memories of laughter, of tears, of late night conversations, early morning goodbyes before they went about their day. it’s dirty coffee mugs in the sink, and books against the wall, paint splattered on the floorboards. it’s the two of them sharing a breath, a life, a home. and it’s still present, in the kiss they share, in the smile chiseled into his features as they part for air, a quiet chuckle departing his lips. “ no, well… i also wanted to see what you’ve done with the place, ” he teases, gaze of endearment, as he looks down at her, lips tingling for more. “ i hope this is real, though. that it isn’t a dream— it feels real to me, ” but then again, she always has. and he can’t accept the alternative; that he was halfway across the country, merely thinking of her, dreaming of her, of this, of the love that still clearly flowed between them, held them together. “ but, i… i don’t have any expectations, coming up here, you know? ” he wants to clarify. “ i mean, we can just talk, if you want, ” somehow, that feels like it exposes a lot, how it’s an absent piece of the puzzle in his life. disguising it with a soft chuckle, he allows his hand to find her own, intertwining their fingers. “ i’ve really missed talking to you. ”

[fishbloc]

*Dr. Eggman voice* I miss you, Fishbloc, I miss you a lot. I'll be back (but seriously, I do miss you and your art!! I hope you're doing well and take care! <3)

wait this is so sweet 🥺

for my absence, i've been offline as usual (no surprise there). i tried to watch a bit of wild life but i keep forgetting oops. mcyt is a bit on the backburner lately. i have been more inclined recently to engage in the characters within my own verses and worlds, and also with friends.

but truthfully most of my time lately has been spent trying to live life in a less miserable way 👍 trying to reconnect with my old friends, trying to spend more time with current online friends. its probably not as holy as it sounds, and a lot of days are still spent quite aimlessly.

i dont draw as much as i like, but i don't hate myself for it! and the few art i do these days are just for other fandoms that doesn't fit this blog in particular haha (i have so many sideblogs...) that's why it seems like ive gone too quiet here. i've always been into various video games even before mcyt so i've just kinda revisited them.

that doesn't mean my life still doesn't have its really depressing miserable days, it still does. but im actively working towards in trying to view my life differently, even if only for a little bit.

i've talked a lot to a few people on regarding whether or not i want to let go of fishbloc, but i think ultimately that will always be an indefinite decision because im so sentimental towards this account and the people i've come to meet from here. besides! i am working on a few personal projects (sorry they have no set schedule oops) and a zine! so fishbloc as a whole can't be abandoned just yet.

for what its worth, i think mcyt will always be a core part of my life now, and it always was a subject i like drawing about due to the creative freedom it gave me unlike other fandoms and media. i just hope no one forgets me as i kinda hibernate right now, i'm still here.

and seeing this really helps me feel better for the uncertain times in my life that are coming. <3

[flame-343]

Something I wish would get used more is Damian actually having plenty of friends but his family thinks he has none or just Jon. It could be absolutely comedic gold ex:

Dick: Damian why don't you go to the park and see if anybody from Gotham academy is there?

Damian: if I befriend anyone from that nightmarish, low IQ, Sad excuse for a learning facility you have all rights to kill me

Dick (mentally): little wing, Im afraid you are actually going to die alone at this rate

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Jason: Ay! Demon brat, why the hell are you here? It's a Friday night don't tell me you're so lonely this is how you spend your Fridays

Damian (Who spent lunch break with Jon who flew over and freakshow showed up after school)l: Tt, for your information Todd this is a perfectly fine way to spend a night on Friday

Jason: Since you have time then you're helping me on a case, I need to stake out a where House down by old Gotham

Damian: Tt, so be it Todd

Jason (mentally): God, he's so lonely that he spends Friday nights actually alone and studying, not even reading

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Damian: Jon it seems as though my family insists that my alone time is... pitiful

Jon: how?

Freakshow: Did you put on too much mascara again?

Colin: or did they catch you listening to My chemical romance or Kiss again?

Freakshow: Naaa, probably Alec Benjamin

Colin: Probably

Damian (with slightly red ears): Cease this nonsense! They have just been in more need of my valuable attention as of late when I am alone

Jon: Aww, c'mon Damian you know that's how Alfred and Dick show love

Damian: it's Todd as well

Jon, Colin and freakshow: Get tested, 80% your dying

[persephonesdreams21]

Sweet Tooth

A/N: Well let me say first and foremost. My bad guys. Lol I didn't mean to keep this rotting in my drafts for almost a year, but life got crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this

Warnings: Explicit. Oral(fem receiving) Body worship. Finger sucking. Squirting. Multiple orgasms. Willy being down bad.

Summary: You’re sweeter than any chocolate he could cook up in his shop, and Willy is all too eager to show you just how much he craves you. Your smiles, your attention…your taste.

The last few weeks of your life have been vibrant.

Filled with technicolor so unlike the dreary years you’ve spent in this town. Between the weather and the chipped cobblestone, England was so gray this time of year. Frigid and frozen over with winter winds and a constant flurry of snow.

It was on a particularly cold night that you’d found him.

Saved him, he’d argue whenever he told the story. Saved him from Bleacher and his mangy mutt.

“Don't you ever get tired of harassing people?” you'd sighed as you'd stumbled upon the scene. A familiar one- another poor soul about to get roped into Bleacher and Scrubbit’s barely concealed hoodwink. Everyone who’d grown up in this city knew better.

“Why don't you mind your business, Y/N. And leave us be. Both me and mister-” Bleacher looks to the man. The one with the sharp cheekbones and the ostentatious velvet trench coat.

“Wonka. Willy Wonka” And he’d said it with such innocence gleaming in those bright eyes that in that moment, you knew you couldn't let him fall victim to the cruel scam.

That’s how you’d ended up with an unexpected housemate.

The home you’d grown up in is nothing special and far from fancy, but you do happen to have a spare room. One with an old fold-out bed that’s more comfortable than it looks. It may have been stupid, but you couldn't help but trust him. Want to help him, feel this pull to him…

That was weeks ago. Almost a month now.

Willy living with you, under your roof, feels oddly natural. Like it had been years that the two of you had been co-existing, he fits into your space like he was destined to come to you. Like he belongs there; the two of you working together like a well oiled machine.

You cook dinner, he washes the dishes and wipes down the counters. The house has never been neater. Even though you try to deny them, every day when he returns from the Gallery Gourmet, he leaves silver shillings in the key bowl on the kitchen table.

“It’s not much…but I want to make sure I’m paying my way. I’m real appreciative of all you’ve done for me” he tells you so earnestly it makes you blush. You sneakily slip his sovereigns in the pockets of his trousers when you do his laundry.

He doesn't know it but he’s helped you too. And not just by scrubbing dishes.

You truly hadnt realized how lonely you were until he came along, and you were terrified of losing your found companion. You’d hold on to him for as long as he’d allow.

Your new favorite time of the day is the evenings; quiet ones. With a fire burning in the hearth and the radio playing softly. You and Willy curl up on the couch, warm in your respective quilts. And read. Well, you read to him. At his persistent insistence.

“Aren't you tired of me blabbing yet?” you tease as you pick up the dog eared copy of The Hobbit that the two of you had been working your way through.

Willy gives you a grin, all boyish and crooked “Never that. I adore the way you tell stories”

That makes your stomach swoop dangerously and you shake your head “You’re a flatter, Mr. Wonka”

“No, no. Your voice is more melodic than the bells of Notre Dame” and when he says things like that to you, how are you not supposed to swoon? From any other man it would make you scoff, but from Willy his compliments always feel different.

Like maybe he’s telling the truth…

You ignore it and change the subject to something that feels safer “One day i'm gonna put you in front of a map and make you show me all the places you’ve been”

“Honestly, It would probably be easier to mark off the few places I haven't been-”

“Oh ho ho ho. How modest of you, great explorer” You tease around a laugh and his ears redden a bit at your ribbing.

“It's not like that and you know it” Willy defends “It was a lot less glamorous than it sounds. I spent seven years under the deck scrubbing pots and then collecting ingredients for my chocolate whenever we made port”

“And wooing girls on every continent?” I ask and that blush on his ears spreads to the high apples of his cheeks.

He’s a pretty one and you know even though he pretends to be demure, might come off as innocent, he’s anything but.

You’d gotten a small taste of it, and hadn't thought of anything else since. But neither of you had quite mustered the bravery to talk about that yet.

The two of you settle in on the old worn couch with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, courtesy of Willy. He’d spoiled you rotten, made you develop a terrible sweet tooth. Any cavities you develop, you’re completely blaming on him.

“Willy” you whine.

“Just try it, please. I made this recipe especially for you”

You take a sip.

The first rush of flavor over your taste buds has your eyes fluttering.

“Mmm, oh my god” you can't help but moan. It’s the most complex thing you’ve ever tasted. Truly. He’s outdone himself- cinnamon and warmth.The kind that feels like a a lovers embrace. Sweet milk chocolate. Is that a hit of rose? “This is insane, what’s in this?”

At your praise Willy smiles like the cat that caught the canary “Cinnamon bark from Sri Lanka, Wild roses from China. Coconut milk”

You look over at him, appraising. Trying to figure out why his voice has taken on that husk. Why his eyes are boring into so intensely.

“What a peculiar combination of flavors” you whisper and Willy bites his lip.

“Its become my favorite combination lately” he admits “but I can't seem to get it quite right. You see, I was allowed to taste it only once, and its tormented me since”

Your breath hitches. Flashes of tangling tongues tongues and his lips pressed against yours. It had only been one kiss but it had wreaked havoc on you since.

You eyeball the mug in your hands. Maybe you weren't the only one suffering with the after effects after all.

“Is this chocolate supposed to taste like?...”

“You. Yes. Your kiss. Your tongue and your lips” Willy nods. “I don't know if anything can come close to the real thing, but I tried”

Your heart thunders behind your ribcage. The longing in his voice matches the one within your gut, the need that had been brewing.

“I’ve spent hours. Thinking of you, trying to imitate your taste so that I could have it one more time. Spicy, but not quite. More warm. Sweet…the floral note from your lipstick. I’ve been nearly everywhere and i’ve never sampled anything quite like it”

With his confession, the thin thread of control snaps.

You’d been trying, so hard. Trying not to scare him away. Trying to keep the intensity of your feelings at bay so that he’d stay, even after he secured his shop. That he wouldnt leave you when he found success-

You place the mug down on the old wood of the side table-

“Please” Willy’s pathetic as he grabs at your arm “Don't go, I understand if this was too much but I- I didn't know how else to show you”

You lean into his touch, not away and that seems to calm him if only just.

Of course this sweet silly man couldn't just tell you that he cared for you. That was not his style. He was bad with words, so much better with his hands. To him, he’d shown you the most sincere form of devotion, crafted your portrait with his most loved medium.

“I feel the same” you say, voice quivering just the tiniest bit. His eyes melt and he comes in close, forehead knocking against yours.

When you kiss him its hot from the start. It’s wet and electric, charged with emotion. With desperation. Willy’s sinewy hands are all over you, cupping your chin, squeezing your waist, so much more bold this time. The waiting had lowered any inhibitions he might have had.

It’s frantic, him unbuttoning your blouse and you tugging at his trousers.

You need more. Need to feel his dark silky hair between your fingers, his pale skin under your palms.

Nothing feels like enough. Not when he mouths at your garment covered breasts or when you wiggle out of your skirt.

You reach into his boxers, wanting to palm at the blood hot hardness you’ll find there-

He groans and pulls his mouth away from your neck, where he’d been suckling marks into the delicate skin. “Wait, don’t”

“Why?” you’re confused, you can feel him. Firm and needy under the cloth.

“Because I want to take care of you first. With my mouth. If you’ll let me”

And oh. Oh.

All you can do is nod. Lay back and let him take what he needs, you feel more vulnerable than ever before. When he blankets you with his body, you realize that you also feel safer. Adored by this man, by this odd beautiful man.

Willy is a tactile person. He wants to touch and taste. And so that is what he does.

There’s so much to feel. Your heavy breasts, peaked with hard little nipples that he swirls his tongue round. Your belly and wide hips, so soft, so much give, he watches his fingers dig in and indent. Your thighs, so plush.

He buries his head between them. And inhales, deeply.

“Willy!” you exclaim, scandalized, trying to close your legs, but he shoulders his way deeper.

“You smell so good” Willy reassures you, his nose pressed against the wet patch on your knickers. Groaning like it’s the best scent in the world.

He takes his time, savors the moment as he peels the damp fabric away. His eyes locked on how the strings of slick stretch and shine in the low fire light. You’re so wet, the puffy lips of your cunt sopping already. And when he takes his first tentative lap, he knows that he could do this for hours and there's no way he’d ever be able to replicate it.

Nectar from the gods. Earthy and sour sweet.

You whimper as he feasts, as he gorges greedily. The sight of his dark head bobbing between your thighs makes you shudder. It’s almost unreal. That he’s doing this, that he wants you. His arms are wrapped around the back of your thighs, holding them up, holding you open.

You come for the first time with your fingers buried in his hair, pressing his face deep into you. Riding his nose and tongue.

For the second time you’re arching away from the sharp pleasure.

“Willy” you choke on your whines as his fingers reach deep into you, hitting that sensitive place inside over and over. You’re shaking with overstimulation, but hes groaning like he’s the one being brought to orgasm over and over.

He pulls his wet mouth away every so often. To tell you how beautiful you are. How good you taste.

“I can’t” you whisper, warningly.

“Please” Willy insists, his breath against your clit “One more, one more for me”

You can't deny him anything, can you?

You arch right up from the couch cushions, squealing as you hit that peak again. But this time is different, this time something inside you bursts, pushing wetness out in a flood.

Willy lets out a gutted sound from where he’s smothered by your thighs, that have tightened vice like around his head during your orgasm.

Coming down from it is almost painful and you’ve never sobbed from pleasure but well. There’s a first time for everything. While you shake and shiver Willy’s gentle, petting your thighs and tummy in soothing circles. Pulling away from your over sensitive flesh.

He stares up at you, his gaze heavy and his tongue poking out every few seconds. Swiping at his wet lips. Like he can't stop tasting you. It’s debauched. Beautiful.

“You are the best thing i’ve ever tasted” Willy pants out the vow, raw with honesty. Drunk on the flavor of you.

Wryly, you wonder if he’ll try to manufacture it into a truffle. A fancy bon bon.

You smile as he climbs back fully on top of you, your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. You kiss the shell of his ear before whispering-

“My turn to taste you”

🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬

I never thought I’d be writing Willy Wonka smut but well. Here I am lol

[ddlcbrainrot]

which ddlc character do you think is most likely to watch skibidi toilet?

Yuri's knowledge on memes is solely based on what Natsuki tells her, and even then she doesn't really get the newer ones. So not her.

Monika feels like the type of person who likes those 2010 memes, perhaps she has heard the words skibidi toilet somewhere but has no idea what it is.

Now we reach the real contestants : Sayori and Natsuki. Both of them are aware of the phenomenon that is skibidi toilet. But I strongly believe Natsuki is the most chronically online out of all of them. So, I think Natsuki was the one that knew about it first and later showed it to Sayori as a joke. And now it's like their little inside joke in the club bc as stated before, the other two hardly even know about the existence of skibidi toilet.

When MC joins he also happens to be chronically online, maybe even more than Natsuki. So the inside joke now has three participants while Monika and Yuri are extremely confused when the term skibidi toilet comes up. The others refuse to explain it. Eventually Monika and Yuri decide to google search it. They still don't get it.

[lennsart]

fboy legend but the f is for fish XD

He is nailing this fboy thing

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 5-11

1 - day 2 - truth - 3