#i think it’s safe to say i like his long hair

[playboysturns]

hate the way i love you . ݁₊ ⊹ .

chapter 1

pairing; jock!chris x loser!reader (secret dating)

your valentines plans ruined. tensions rise between you and chris as you wonder if he is really as committed in your relationship as he says he is.

warnings; toxic relationship, underage drinking, mentions of feeling sick.

you hid your phone as you read the message chris had texted, it was only 20 minutes into first period english. with nick sitting beside you, you didn’t want him to see your phone and question why his brother was texting you.

your brain working to make an excuse to leave class, you didn’t want to keep chris waiting especially when you knew that he was probably already there.

“i can’t believe we have no valentines! this is sick,” nick sighs dropping his head onto the desk, his eyes peering up at you. “how about we go out and get pizza, maybe come back to mine since my brothers are going to be out?”

“i actually have plans tonight,” you admit, nick shooting off the desk looking at you in confusion.

“with who?” he asks curiously, you sigh before shaking your head.

“nothing special, i think my parents are taking me out to dinner because they feel sorry for my lonely ass,” you lie, still looking at the text you received thinking of a way to leave class.

“fuck i really wanted us to rewatch ‘bottoms’ together,” nick pouts before going onto his phone.

this was the first time you had an actual valentines in your life, and you had exhausted yourself the night before to make sure you were prepared. you had shaved, exfoliated and moisturised completing the most treacherous everything shower, meticulously doing your hair the way chris liked. A little red dress that hugged your figure just right hanging in your closet for wherever chris was planning on taking you tonight.

“look at this,” you quickly closed your messages as you look to see the tiktok nick was showing you, it being a slideshow of horses with weirdly big human feet.

“your for you page is fucked,” you giggle as he scrolls showing the next tiktok.

“yeah well you should see chris and matt’s,” he says, you think to agree that chris’ was way worse but stop yourself before realising that it wouldn’t make any sense for you to know.

you murmur an ‘i bet,’ at him before standing up and grabbing your bag.

“where are you going?” nick asks confused it had only been 20 minutes into class.

“y/n, is there something wrong?” your teacher says making his way over.

“i think i started my period, i need to go to the bathroom” you whisper the lie, pointing to your bag feining embarrassment.

“oh! okay go quick,” your teacher says awkwardly, motioning towards the door, nick giving you a look as of sympathy.

you see chris standing under the bleachers, looking around for you. he was in his football jersey and some dark washed jeans, his north face backpack sliding down his back.

“chris!” you called out, his eyes snapping to the sound and his face into a smile when he spots you.

“hey baby,” he wraps his arms around you pulling you in for a kiss. “took you long enough.”

“look i had to say i was on my period leave class,” you sigh into his lips, relishing in the comfort that they brought you.

he quickly pulls away to grab his backpack, unzipping the bag to pull out a bouquet of flowers.

“happy valentines,” he holds the bouquet out, you blush before taking them gratefully.

“thank you, they’re beautiful,” you admire the flowers, pulling him into a hug.

“not as beautiful as you though,” his words coming out muffled against your neck, the smell of his addicting cologne making you dizzy.

“so what we doing tonight?” you ask, chris pulling back to give you a confused look.

“what do you mean?” you look at him with equal confusion, putting the flowers safely into your bag.

“i thought you said we were going somewhere out of the city to eat?” you look at him as his face breaks into an awkward grimace.

“about that-” he starts looking everywhere but you.

“what? don’t tell me you’re going to a party. who has a party on valentines day?” you say irritated, this wasn’t the first time he had blown off a date because one of his friends had decided to throw a party.

“courtney-” you would’ve thought you had heard him wrong but the guilty look on his face confirmed what he was saying. courtney was the head of the cheer squad and was a part of his friend group inconveniently she was been his ex before you.

“courtney? seriously chris. you’re going to go to your ex’s valentines party but won’t take me out.”

“it’s not like that, it’s just everyones going so it would be weird that i’m not.” he looks at you like this was a reasonable reason.

“so what? you can’t miss a single party, are you kidding me,” you back away from him, you had spent so long getting ready and today was supposed to be perfect.

“baby please-” chris walks towards you pleading.

“i have to get back to class but have fun chris,” you turn heading back into the building.

“change of plans, i have nothing to do tonight,” you say as you sit down next to nick.

“oh? what happened to the dinner with your parents?” he asks, looking over your slightly disheveled appearance.

“nothing, i called them when i was in the bathroom to tell them i had made plans today,”

“are you sure they don’t mind?” nick looks hesitant but you quickly shut it down.

“yeah honestly they were happy that i actually had plans today,” you reassure him, truth be told if you had to spend your night alone knowing that chris was out at his ex’s house there was a high chance you would cry yourself to sleep.

“okay then come by mine like 8ish?” a grin spread across nick’s face excited at the thought of a movie marathon.

“yeah, i’ll bring a shit ton of food as well,” you say already mentally noting that you’d have to stop in the store before you arrive to his.

nick claps his hands beginning to ramble about the movies that he wanted to watch.

friday 14th february 8:09 pm

you don’t even have to ring nick that you were outside, he rips open the door as soon as you were in front of it squealing in glee at the bag of food you had brought.

“come in, chris and matt already left,” he ushers you in, taking the bag off of you and dumping the contents on his kitchen table.

“nice shorts,” you giggle, looking at the heart patterned material. nick twirls showing them off in a 360 view.

“i thought it was only fitting, you’re on theme too” he points to the heart pyjamas set you were wearing.

“of course,” you help nick as he finishes setting the assortment of candies into bowls, carrying them into their living room and settling next to each other on the couch. you stuff your face with chocolate as nick stars ‘Bottoms’.

9:55pm

the movie had just ended and nick is sat scrolling through snapchat as you decide on what movie to watch next.

“oh god,” nick says, you hear ‘Rick Flair Drip’ blast out from his phone.

“what is it?” you look over curiously, though immediately regretting your decision. on his phone is a story of courtney pouring a shot into chris’ mouth, part of the liquid falling down his chin. a resounding cheer is heard into the background as arms come into frame to pat him on the back.

“they make me sick,” nick sighs shaking his head, pressing onto the next story posted. this one was somehow worse, it was courtney and another cheerleader ashley with a few of boys off the football team with the caption ‘best valentines party’.

“courtney and chris?” you ask, wondering what he meant by the both of them.

“yeah i mean, it’s so obvious she just threw the party as an excuse to be with chris on valentines,” nick’s face is scrunches up in disapproving scowl “it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if he comes back and i find out that they fucked.”

it felt like bile was coming up your throat, “what do you mean?”

“courtney wants him back so bad. i don’t know why chris doesn’t just date her again, it’s not like he’s got anything else going on,” nick says laying his head back onto the couch “anyways, what movie you choosing?”

“yeah right,” you try to compose yourself but your voice comes out shaky, nick looks up at you confused.

“are you okay?” concern laces his voice as he takes in your paling complexion.

“i don’t know, i just felt really sick all of a sudden,” you get up from the couch, all you wanted to do now is go back home and cry in bed.

“do you need anything?” nick gets up as well, putting his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

“no, i think i just ate too much candy. i might go back home and try to sleep it off,” you lie, nick looks at you worried.

“yeah that might be it,” you both make your way to the front door, nick telling you to text him when you get home to make sure you got there safe.

as you leave the cool night air hits you, somehow making you feel better but worse at the same time. you just wished that you were in your bed with chris and your cat right now cuddled up watching some cheesy romcom. you try calling him a few times to no avail, sighing you get into your car heading home.

saturday 15th february 12:34am

you chew on your lip, wondering if you should send him a message or not. you had tried calling him a few more times, then thinking to yourself ‘this is my boyfriend why am i worried about texting him?’ you hit send on the message, waiting a few minutes for a response that doesn’t come before finally going to sleep.

sunday 16th february 11:05pm

chris hadn’t texted you anything else since yesterday, sending a simple ‘morning’ at 1pm. he hadn’t said anything about the 10 missed calls you had left on his phone or bothered responding to any of the texts you had sent him after.

you grew restless, doing things you enjoyed like reading or playing with your cat leo wasn’t helping in taking your mind off of him. at times like these where you felt frustrated in your relationship you wish you could talk to nick about it, but the thought of telling him that you had secretly been in a relationship with his brother for 6 months made your stomach churn. not to mention the thought of how chris would react to you telling someone about the relationship.

you sigh deciding to stalk chris’ bitmoji to see where he was whilst he was ignoring you, thinking that you’d find him with matt and nick at a drive-through or at their house. To your surprise it showed him active at a random house with a whole bunch of other people, you curiously click on one of the avatar’s stories, your heart faltering.

even in the dimly lit room and the shitty camera work you could still see chris in the background of the video on his phone, talking to him was courtney and her friend ashley. now it wasn’t like chris was touching her, and you trusted him enough that even if she was flirting that he wouldn’t entertain it. still the feeling in your chest wasn’t going away and you decided to try calling him.

the phone rings twice before the call drops, you were getting annoyed now of his silent treatment and you could see he was active. you send a few texts before deciding to go to bed, and reassuring yourself that surely at school he’d at least try to talk to you.

wednesday 19th february 1:30pm

It had been 4 days since you and Chris had last spoken.

4 days of sending these one sided messages, and at this point you were embarrassed at the blue wall in your chats. his last message still being the one he sent the day after valentines then radio silence after. to make it worse it wasn’t as if you could go and talk to him either, nobody would’ve thought that he even knew you let alone dated you. the sadness you felt had turned into anger.

you had enough of the silence and finally decided to try and corner him alone when you were out of class. though every time you tried he was hanging out with the rest of his friends. it wasn’t hard to spot them considering they were so loud, the group being filled with both football players and cheerleaders.

it was the end of lunch and you were getting your things out of a locker, you stole glances at them hoping that you could at least catch chris’ eye. unfortunately for you, you end up locking eyes with someone else.

“what the fuck is she looking at?” courtney shouts her face contorted in a scowl, fifteen pairs of eyes turn to look at you. seeking at least some comfort you look at chris, who only looks back with a blank expression.

now you were not shy in any means, but the sudden confrontation and the amount of people had heat flooding to your cheeks in embarrassment. “i-no i’m-”

“leave her alone,”

you turn to see nick behind you. you sigh in relief, looking back to see everyone still looking at the both of you.

“or what?” another ashley responses from the lockers flicking her hair behind her and giggling to the others about it.

“can you both shut up,” matt says, offering you a small smile that makes the tension in your chest ease a little bit.

“well does that freak have a fucking staring problem?” courtney continues her eyes trained on you. her lips twitching into a smirk at the sight of you getting flustered.

“oh don’t act like you hate people looking at you, you attention whore” nick rebuttals rolling his eyes. courtney’s face turning bright red in anger, she opens her mouth ready to shout back but ashley quickly tries to calm her down.

nick chuckles beside you, grabbing your arm and dragging you to your shared class. he turns to you “oh my god did you see how red she got?”

“deserved. she’s so annoying,” you and nick laugh as you both sit down in your seats.

wednesday 19th february 5:00pm

you couldn’t resist him. the familiar sight of their door greets you, before you could even knock it swung open to show chris. his soft brown hair falling over his face, he had your favourite sweater of his on.

“hey,” his voice coming out soft, tentative like he was testing the waters between you.

“hey baby,” you say back, he pulls you into a hug and you let out a sigh off relief. you were still mad at him for ignoring you but decided to bring it up later to not ruin the moment.

“cmon, i got something i need to do” chris leads you to his room, he takes of his sweater chucking it onto his bed before flopping down onto it himself.

he pats his bare chest in signal for you to cuddle, you giggle before making your way over and nestling on top on him. you practically melt into him. everything about him comforted you, his familiar scent and his smooth warm skin pressing against your cheek. his left hand comes up to rub up and down your back whilst the right runs gently through your hair.

“i missed this,” he sighs in content, his lips brushing over the top of your head.

“i missed this too,” your words coming out slurred from being smushed against him, he hums beneath you. the both of you lay there in silence enjoying each others presence before chris speaks up.

“i’m sorry about courtney earlier again,” his hand continuing to rub up and down your back in comfort.

“it’s fine, i just wished you would’ve said something to her,” you sleepily stare to the other end of the room, your eyes growing heavy.

“yeah well i can’t exactly do that. it’d make us too obvious,” as the words left his mouth you feel sleepiness disappear completely.

“what?” you sit up, freeing yourself from his hold to whip your head around to look at him.

“nah it’s nothing personal,” chris says sitting up whilst grabbing his sweater and putting it back on.

“well it fucking feels like it when you ‘can’t’ even say anything to her,” you spit out bitterly, hurt with how he was talking about what had happened.

“what do you want me to say? leave my girlfriend alone?” he looks at you absurdly.

“no, maybe i wanted you to be a normal person and tell her to shut the fuck up,”

“what like matt did?” he laughs as if the idea was ridiculous. you felt your heart breaking, was the idea of defending you really that bad to him?

“exactly, your brother can say it so why can’t you?” you felt sick, you had never had an argument like this before and chris was the last person you wanted to have on with.

“go date matt then,” he says angrily.

“are you serious? you’re acting like a child over what? me being angry you can’t call me your girlfriend?” your your voice raising with ever question.

“can you just leave it alone,” chris groans rubbing his face in annoyance.

you look at him in shock, “leave it alone? chris i haven’t said anything about your decision to keep it this a secret for 6 months.”

“yeah well you said it yourself you didn’t want anyone knowing,” it was like he wasn’t listening to anything you were saying and you felt yourself starting to get angrier by the second.

“yeah and i thought that meant no one knowing for maybe the first few weeks not 6 fucking months!” you shout, getting up off his bed.

“can you just fucking drop it, i told you that i would tell everyone when i’m ready.” chris says lowly.

“oh yeah, and when is that? graduation? when we both move to different cities for college?” your chest heaving up and down from frustration.

“i don’t fucking know, okay.” he looks at you with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“whatever, fuck you.” you grab your phone off of his bed turning quickly for the door.

“wait?- baby slow down,” chris gets up off his bed and moves to try and stop you.

“chris, stop.” you say trying your hardest to stop your eyes from watering, leaving his room. sure both of you had gotten into arguments before but never this heated and never about how your relationship was concealed.

chris didn’t come after you, choosing to stay inside his room. you silently walked out the house and only then did you let your tears fall.

an - ahhhh its here, hopefully you guys like the first chapter even though chris is a major douchebag in it! chapter 2 hopefully coming soon with a much nicer chris and hopefully them resolving their argument fully 💋

taglist; @sheluvsthesturniolos @mothstvrnz @chrissweetheart @sturniolo1trips @eeyoresturnz @r0set0y @sturns-mermaid @seros-girl @ilovepink12345

[girlkisser13]

being married to toji fushiguro would include

• toji is fiercely protective of you, even if he doesn’t always express it. he doesn’t hover or ask if you’re okay every five minutes, but he notices when something’s off and is always there to back you up.

• he doesn’t say "i love you" often, but his actions speak louder than words— shielding you from harm or making sure you’re always safe, especially when the dangers of his life as a former assassin creep in. still, he’d maintain his space, valuing his independence but always watching out for you.

• he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t put up with nonsense, so when it comes to household matters, he’s straightforward.

• if there’s a problem, he deals with it quickly, often in a practical manner. that said, he’d also likely appreciate the quiet comfort of being at home with you, especially after a long day of dealing with the outside world.

• while toji doesn’t come across as soft, there are moments when he shows his care in small ways— maybe brushing your hair out of your face or sharing a fleeting but tender look when you’re alone.

• he’s not one for big romantic gestures, but when he does something for you, it’s meaningful, like getting you your favorite drink or taking care of things when you’re overwhelmed.

• he may not always have a lot to say, but if you’re going through something difficult, toji is there for you. he’d stay silent, listening without judgment, and give you a quiet, reassuring presence.

• his support might not be verbal, but his actions would show that he’s there for the long haul, no matter what.

• if you two had kids, toji would be a hands-on (we are ignoring the fact that he is canonically an absent father), though unconventional, father.

• he’ll play it cool, acting like he’s not that interested, but you’ll catch him watching baby videos on his phone when he thinks you’re not looking.

• he’d teach them about survival, how to fight, and how to protect what’s theirs, all while being the solid, reliable figure they need, even if he doesn’t know how to express it all the time.

• toji’s not great with emotions, but he’ll secretly adore his kids, and you’ll know it by the way he keeps an eye on them from a distance or his subtle ways of making sure they have what they need, even when he won’t say it out loud.

• the trust between you two would be solid. toji would expect you to be honest with him, and he’d give you the same respect. you wouldn’t need to speak all the time to understand each other; there’d be a deep, unspoken connection, even in the moments of silence.

• don’t expect anything overly sweet or cheesy. toji’s idea of romance might involve getting you something practical, like new clothes for a dangerous mission or fixing something around the house.

• but those small acts of care would mean more to you than any grand gesture.

• life with toji is a rollercoaster of questionable financial choices.

• his idea of a budget is more of a vague suggestion. you could go to bed with a full savings account, and by morning, he’s bought a motorcycle, a new set of knives (because he deserves them), and a ridiculously expensive set of rare steaks— because, apparently, that’s how you live life.

• he will ALWAYS justify impulse buys with, "it was on sale."

• toji is very independent, and while he might not ask for help, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. if something breaks or goes wrong around the house, he’ll absolutely try to fix it himself first— no matter how unqualified he is for the job.

• broken sink? he’ll attempt to fix it with duct tape and some questionable youtube tutorials. the worst part? he’s usually successful… in a very "that’ll work for now" way.

• he doesn’t exactly plan grand romantic gestures, but when he does do something sweet, it’s always unexpected.

• like that time he brought home your favorite food when you didn’t ask for it, or when you were having a rough day, and he somehow found the exact book you were looking for, even though you didn’t mention it. it’s not always flashy, but it’s the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• also, this man is WAYY too confident.

• he’s usually pretty calm, but when he’s certain about something— whether it’s a decision, a plan, or a random idea— good luck trying to change his mind.

• he’ll insist he’s right, even if he’s 99% sure he’s not, and he’ll have a smug look on his face while doing it. it’s an annoying habit, but somehow, he pulls it off.

• toji’s idea of date night involves grabbing takeout and binge-watching random action movies, preferably while he’s armed with snacks he’s "borrowed" from the convenience store.

• he’s surprisingly a pretty good cook (when he takes his time).

• it’s usually something straightforward— steak, grilled chicken, or ramen— but when he actually tries, it’s surprisingly tasty. the best part? he’ll act like it’s no big deal, even though you know he’s secretly proud of himself for not burning anything.

• toji is your scary dog privilege.

• he exudes an aura of danger, which makes you feel untouchable. not that he tries to look intimidating, but it’s hard not to notice when people start treating you both with a certain amount of caution just because he’s around.

• whether it’s the way he moves, the way he talks, or just the fact that people know better than to cross him, you’ll get used to the unspoken respect (or fear) that follows him.

• he’s not the type to smother you with affection, but he has his ways of showing he cares. whether it’s leaving a random "you good?" text, adjusting your coat when he notices you’re cold, or letting you take the last slice of pizza (even though he’s definitely eyeing it).

• while toji is pretty sharp when it comes to violence or strategy, he’s totally lost when it comes to social situations or subtle hints.

• you’ll find yourself frequently having to explain things multiple times because he either didn’t catch your tone or completely misinterpreted the situation.

• if you try to drop hints, he’ll stare at you blankly, and then you’ll have to go into full detail before he understands what you’re saying. it’s frustrating, but also kind of endearing, considering how smart he is in other areas.

• although he’ll never openly say it, in those quiet moments when he watches you sleep or shares a rare smile, you know you’re his soft spot. toji fushiguro has made you his world, and his devotion to you speaks louder than words ever could. <33

[ilium-ilia]

Everything You Touch

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | previously known as "soft spot" | masterlist

Chapter Three: the apotheosis of the sun

tw: alcohol, man handling, crude name calling, violence

“I didn’t think you’d come.” 

Simon squeezes into the seat across from you, long legs knocking against the table legs as he attempts to settle into the old, creaky booth. You’ve already retrieved the drink you claimed to have wanted so bad earlier—some red, fruity drink that smells so sweet it makes his stomach churn—and it’s nearly half gone. It’s nothing but melted cherries on your tongue as you smile at him diffidently. 

You stick out like a sore thumb. Still donning your knitted jack-o-lantern themed sweater, you hunch your shoulders over your drink as you sit tucked into a booth meant for a group. Thick heat bakes you, wetting your skin with perspiration until you’re glowing beneath the tenebrous sconces that keep the pub shrouded in a thick penumbra. A sweet aura emanates from you so strongly that it nearly drowns out the decades worth of built up cigarette smoke in the building. 

Humming, Simon adjusts his mask from sliding off of his nose. “I said I’d come.” 

“I know,” you giggle. Your teeth bite into your lip as you cringe, then settle. “I just didn’t know if you meant it or not.” 

“I always keep my word,” he deadpans. 

Your smile cracks as you lift your drink to your lips, eyeing him. He looks no different than he usually does. Still obscured with a mask and veiled with the hood of his jumper, he’s the Simon Riley you’ve always known. As you let the bite of vodka sear your throat, you wiggle your toes in your shoes as you push a cup across the table to him. The glass sings against the wood, leaving behind a trail of thin, vitreous water. 

“I got you some water. Wasn’t sure what drink you preferred, and I’m always bad at guessing so I figured I’d play it safe,” you explain. 

Simon’s hand swallows the cup whole as he moves it to the side, freeing up the empty space between the two of you. His fingers are thick—scarred. The slightest bit of pale hair glistens on his fingers just by his knuckles, and you swear you catch a hint of a tattoo on his wrist from beneath his sleeve. 

“None for me,” he says. He eyes your glass for a split moment before they flicker back up. “Just here for you.” 

Blinking, you scoff as if he’s joking—soaking you in saccharine flattery that has your bowels moiling. Your fingers tap against your glass when you realize you can’t see a smile dancing beneath the fabric of his mask. 

“Well, you’re quite the gentleman,” you say nonchalantly. 

Neither of you speak. The silence between you is filled with the incoherent chatter of the pub around you while patrons drink their fill and munch on salty chips. Your attention is continually caught by a small group of men in the corner playing darts—they cheer for each shot made, even when the needle embeds itself into the wall next to the target. 

“Your cut’s healed nicely,” Simon murmurs. 

Lips parting, your hand shoots up to the corner of your mouth as if your wound is still fresh. Your fingers prod at the raised skin as you frown. “Oh, thanks. I guess it has. If I’m being honest, I’ve just been trying to ignore it these last few weeks. Little embarrassed about the scar.”

Simon shrugs. “I’ve seen worse.”

“I’m sure you have,” you grin. 

Sharp frost melts as the conversation begins to pick up. As much as a conversation can with only one person talking, anyway. You talk about everything and everything on your mind as the alcohol loosens your lips, and Simon is all ears to receive it. He’s the most interested wall you’ve ever spoken to, anyway. The tension in your shoulders deliquesces after your second drink, allowing you to languidly lounge in your seat, but Simon has yet to touch his. Crystalline, still water rots away in his glass—his mask stays firmly on his face as if it’s always been a part of him. As if it would kill him to remove it. 

“So, military, huh?” you ask. Your fingers lazily trace the rim of your cup as you hiccup. Simon has a sneaking suspicion that the bartender might be making them a tad too strong for you to handle. Simon nods. “What’s that like?” 

He gives you a dull shrug. “It’s work.” 

A slight pout appears on your lips as your hands lay palm down on the table. “Oh, come on. It’s gotta be more interesting than that! Seriously, what do you do? I know there’s like, different branches, right? Something fun, I’d wager. Maybe an explosives expert? Oh, are you a pilot?” 

Simon scoffs as he leans back. His back hits the wood behind him and he presses his shoulders back until his scapulas hum with the stretch. You’re not too shy about the way your lips part at the sight of him like this—broader than you’ve ever seen him before. “Bit too tall for that.” 

“Really? Wouldn’t have guessed,” you say with playful snark. Suddenly, your eyes widen as you snap your fingers. “Oh! Wait, I get it. You can’t tell me because you work on high priority missions? Like secret agent shit, right? A little James Bond action?” 

It takes everything within Simon not to chuckle at your inebriated dreaming. “Somethin’ like that.” 

Humming, your eyes gloss over as you rest your head in your hand. “Must be neat. Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many things. So many places,” you say. Your tone drips with awe as your gaze stares blankly through the table, words nearly dissipating on your tongue. “I’d kill for an opportunity like that…” Then, your eyes revive as your lips pull into a smirk. “No pun intended.” 

Your bluntness catches Simon off guard—so much so that you manage to bring a grumbling chuckle out of his throat. It’s warm and thick, like blood and syrup. It’s nothing but music to your ears as you grin, seemingly satisfied with his titter. 

“Reckon you ought to make that drink your last one for tonight,” he says, finger pointing to your empty glass. “Don’t think I can stand your shitty puns much longer.” 

You laugh as you look down at your drink—or, what’s left of it. It’s dissolved into nothing but the unwanted dregs of watered down vodka and cherry stems. The back of your neck burns with a hungry heat, and you find yourself having to rub your sweaty palms off on the front of your knitted sweater. 

“Right, of course. I forgot the bad jokes were your thing. Didn’t mean to steal the spotlight from you or anything,” you tease. Your smile dissolves into something softer as if you’ve found yourself in the grasp of some caprice. You wet your lips before humming. “Thanks for coming with me tonight. Honestly, I really didn’t think you’d say yes, let alone show up. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place.” 

“Think I’m too posh?” Simon deadpans. 

“Yeah, the work boots really sold you out,” you quip with a giggle. “But really. I appreciate it.” 

He tilts his head to the side where his dark eyes quietly study you. “Don’t mention it.” 

A sonorous drone echoes through the air. It pulls you into a gentle lull that tickles the back of your skull until your thoughts are muddled and fuzzy. Everything is numb, and too far out of your reach. Even the tips of your fingers begin to melt.

“Well, I’ll probably be headed out, then,” you say as you push your empty glass toward the edge of the table. “I’ll just make a quick stop by the restroom. You can head out now if you don’t wanna stick around.” 

Simon sits for a moment in thought as his mind wanders to the bitter memories of your battered body. How blood once dribbled down your chin in a crimson river; how you didn’t seem to grimace at the taste of it. For a moment, he can’t remember when that image of you—torn to shreds—started to plague him worse than the death and gore he’s seen out in the field has. 

“I’ll wait,” he says after deliberating. “Sure you don’t need a ride?” 

“No, I’ll be alright. I walked here,” you assure him as you slide out of the booth with a wave of your hand. 

Somehow, that’s worse. 

You sneak away before Simon can protest the idea. He grumbles as he pushes his cup of water towards the edge of the table—it’s still completely full and untouched. Quiet music fills his ears as he sits there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion, it quickly consumes him. Each cheer from the men playing darts, the clack of empty glasses on the bartop, the entrance screeching as the door swings open—it eats him up. Unravels his DNA until he’s nothing but a soldier composed of iron bones and scar tissue. 

A new loud, ostentatious voice fills the pub. It’s so jarring that Simon finds himself twisting in his seat to see the idiot for himself. The new patron is a tall man; shorter than himself but still garners the height to stick out in a crowd. He stumbles around tables and people as he makes a beeline straight to the bar. Hoppy alcohol and stale cigarettes rolls off of his body in noisome waves that has even Simon’s nose shriveling at the intrusion. 

Saving himself the headache, Simon turns his attention away from the patron as he adjusts the mask on his nose. Instead, he studies the grain on the wood table. There’s several faint rings from people refusing to use their coasters properly, but the finish is dark and rich. This pub isn’t the most salubrious, but he’s certainly seen worse. Though, he is rather surprised to find someone like you frequenting it. 

Someone so soft—someone who’s the apotheosis of the sun. 

That’s when he hears your name. 

Simon’s head snaps to the sound, and he finds you standing a few steps away from the bathroom with wide eyes. Your lips part to speak but your feet are frozen to the ground. He knows your expression well. It’s something he’s seen too much. He’s seen it on his mother’s face when his father would return home from a night of drinking. On the face of an enemy as he stands above them, ready to deal the final blow. On his own face when he looked in the mirror as a child. 

“Don’t talk to me.” Even over the buzz of the crowd, Simon can still hear your voice. It’s shaky—fracturing at the seams—and not strong enough to ward off the man sauntering up to you. Simon quickly recognizes him as the patron who entered just moments earlier; nothing but a galling moron pub hopping. 

“Come on, don’t be like that,” the man pushes. “I miss you, you know that? Despite all your bitching, I still fucking miss you.” 

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head as you push past the man, muttering something about him getting lost, but you don’t make it far before he has his hand wrapped around your wrist. Trapped like an animal in a cage, your face morphs into horror as your eyes find Simon. You garner attention from the crowd as you turn around to face your harasser, free hand pushing at him as if you can undo the crushing grip on your body. 

“Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethe. 

While anxious eyes watch on with tight lips, it takes little time for Simon to cross the pub. He slices through the building like a bullet, and it only takes a short moment before his hand is pressing against the assailant’s chest. 

“Right, that’s enough of that,” Simon murmurs a warning. 

Doubling down, the man’s grip only strengthens as he cocks his head at Simon with furrowed brows. “Who the fuck is this creep? You look like you ought to be on the register.” 

“Shut up, Eric,” you hiss. 

“No, really,” the man pushes further. “Is this the type of people you’re hanging out with now? This fucking nonce?” 

An eerie silence settles across the pub just in time for it to shatter with the sound of flesh crashing against flesh. The palm of your hand bites the side of the man’s—Eric’s—cheek, temporarily stunning him into submission. Patrons look on with quiet murmurs as Eric’s attention snaps back to you, your slap having done nothing to phase him. 

“Watch your fucking mouth,” you warn. 

“No, I’d rather watch yours, babe,” he sneers. His jaw sets taut as his free hand comes up to grab your face with bruising force, drawing you closer to him with a squeak as he bares his teeth in a snarling grin. “You have such a pretty mouth. Would love to put it to work like the fuckin minx you are.” 

It’s disgusting. This man with his hands on you like he’s won some prize. Avaricious fingers dig into your face like he plans to take, and take, and take. Simon’s seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands claw at him. He’s felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It’s in the screams he couldn’t hold back as a curved hook weaved between his ribs and tugged. It’s in the blood that spilled down his body as he was strung up to the soundtrack of laughter and a crackling fire. It’s in the maggots that he sat in when he was buried alive. 

It’s here, right now, and it’s staining your face. 

Simon refuses to give Eric more time to right his wrongs. His fingers rip into his shirt as he yanks him away from you, allowing you to finally be free from his unwavering grasp. Then, there’s nothing but a yelp as Simon’s knuckles collide with the side of his jaw, sending Eric toppling to the floor where he lays limply like a rabbit finally succumbing to a wolf.

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[inseobts]

Could I get the kidd pirates (wire, heat, kid, killer) reactions to the reader saying that they feel safe with them? Let's say the reader led a kill or be killed life where trust was scarce and death was a guarantee matched with isolation. But after joining the crew, despite the fact its a similar life style, they feel safer.

Sorry for the kinda odd request, hope your having a good day ✌️

Safe Among Monsters

kidd pirates x reader (platonic)

a/n: thank you for the request!! hope this is what you wanted and you'll like it (●'◡'●)

words count: 0.8k

tags: kidd pirates, hurt/comfort, emotional bonds, trust, safety

masterlist || ko-fi

The sea is always dangerous. You know this well. A life of blood and survival has shaped you, made you sharp, but also left you alone. Trust is a weakness. Safety is an illusion. At least, that’s what you believed before joining the Kidd Pirates.

But now… now, things feel different.

You sit on the deck, watching the ocean. The salty wind plays with your hair, and for once, you feel at peace. Heat sits nearby, fixing his weapons. Wire leans against a crate, quiet as usual. Killer sharpens his blades, the steady sound of metal against stone filling the air. And Kid? He’s yelling at some poor crewmember for messing up something in the engine room.

You take a deep breath. This is the closest thing to home you’ve ever had.

“I feel safe here” you say without thinking.

Silence.

The sound of Killer’s blade pauses. Heat’s hands still. Wire actually lifts his head. And Kid? Well, Kid turns so fast you think he might snap his own neck.

“The hell did you just say?” Kid asks, stomping toward you.

You blink “I said I feel safe here.”

Kid stares at you like you just grew a second head “Safe? With us?” he asks as he gestures wildly “We’re pirates! We kill people! We steal! We fight the Marines and the damn Emperors! How the hell is that safe?!”

You shrug “I’ve lived a life where trust meant death. Where every second was a fight to survive. And yet, with you guys, I don’t feel like I have to watch my back all the time.”

Kid looks completely lost. He crosses his arms, grumbling “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re just bad with emotions” Heat says, smirking.

“Shut up, Heat!”

Heat chuckles before looking at you “You really mean that?”

You nod “Yeah. I know we fight and kill, but… it’s different. I don’t feel alone.”

Wire exhales, running a hand through his hair “Tch. Can’t believe anyone would feel safe around us. We’re... monsters.”

“Not to me” you say simply.

Killer, who has been silent, finally speaks “You trust us.”

You meet his gaze “Yeah, I do.”

He tilts his head, studying you for a long moment. Then, he nods “Good.”

Kid groans “You’re all too soft.”

“Maybe,” Heat says, grinning “But at least we’re not in denial like you.”

“I AM NOT—!”

You laugh, and to your surprise, Killer chuckles too. Even Wire smirks. The tension fades, and the conversation shifts, but something lingers in the air, something unspoken but understood.

They won’t say it outright. Not in words. But you know. They feel it too.

You are safe here.

Not because the world is less dangerous.

But because you are not alone anymore.

Days pass, but the words stay in your mind. The crew still fights, still raids, still risks their lives every day, but something in their eyes has changed when they look at you. There’s an understanding now. A silent promise.

One evening, after a long battle at sea, you sit beside Killer, your back against the ship’s railing. He’s quiet, as usual, but you don’t mind. The silence between you is comfortable.

“You’re really not scared of us at all?” he finally asks.

You shake your head “No. Not anymore.”

He hums in response. Then, after a pause, he says “If you ever feel different… if you ever feel unsafe… tell me.”

You smile “I will.”

Across the deck, Kid watches you both, his expression unreadable. Wire mutters something under his breath, and Heat just grins. It’s a strange family, but it’s yours.

And for the first time in your life, you don’t feel alone.

Another storm rolls in one night, violent waves crashing against the hull. The ship rocks dangerously, and the crew scrambles to secure everything. You’re drenched, holding onto the railing as the wind howls.

Kid barks orders, his voice barely audible over the storm “Tie down the sails! Secure the cargo!”

You move to help, but a massive wave sends you staggering. A strong hand grabs your wrist, Killer. He pulls you upright, nodding “Stay close.”

Through the chaos, you realize something... no one is afraid. The crew works together, trusting each other completely. Despite the danger, there’s no panic. Just confidence.

When the storm finally passes, the crew collapses on the deck, exhausted but victorious. You sit beside Heat, breathing hard.

“You alright?” he asks, glancing at you.

You nod “Yeah. That was… intense.”

He grins “Storms happen. We get through them.”

Wire chuckles, running a hand through his wet hair “You held up well.”

Killer sits nearby, quietly cleaning his weapons. Kid crosses his arms, looking at the sea. Then, he glances at you “Still feel safe?”

You meet his gaze “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then, Kid smirks “Good.”

And just like that, you know you belong here.

[pocketsizedquasar-3]

[ID: 6 panels of a digitally drawn comic showing Daggoo doing twist-outs into Pip’s hair. Pip looks a little nervous through the process, with a warm & encouraging Daggoo, and by the end of it he looks at his reflection with surprised joy. More detailed IDs for each panel in alt.]

i finally finished what i was working on for @creatingblackcharacters’ Black History Month Challenge!

so for those who don’t know, for a few years now i’ve been working on adapting Moby Dick into a webcomic. as you might imagine, a text written by a white man in 1851 is oftentimes Very Racist with how it treats its characters of color, and this very much includes its Black characters, of which there are two of note in the cast, Daggoo and Pip. there are parts of the original text in which Melville tries (and even sometimes doesn’t completely fail) to say poignant things or critiques about racism in the text (and much of the text does very explicitly and intentionally deal w/ racism and racialized dynamics, something literally 99% of adaptations ignore), but for the most part, his nonwhite characters are flat, stereotypical, often violent, racist caricatures.

and i won’t get too much into that here (god knows i’ve rambled at LENGTH abt all of this many times & i will many more), because the point of this challenge is to share art about Black joy, but suffice to say that! I am doing my best to intentionally engage with the race & racism of the original text, whether it’s for characters of my own racial identity that Melville bastardizes (like Fedallah), or those of others (like his Black characters, Daggoo and Pip, and his Indigenous characters, and so on). It’s important to me not only to be in conversation with and to challenge Melville’s racism in my work, but also to allow these characters to be more than the one note racist stereotypes Melville writes them as.

So!!! that’s some long winded context, but here’s Daggoo doing Pip’s hair for him and showing him how! I’m extremely fond of Pip getting to be loved and cared for by others of the crew, especially the harpooners (of whom Dag is one). i just think Pip deserves his comically large number of dads who will care for him and make him feel safe and shelter him from the absolute Horror that is 19th century American Whaling (and the Horror that is their white crewmates!). i just think this little Black boy deserves love and joy 😭😭 and i think Daggoo deserves to be a soft, gentle caregiver who can give that to him.

I have lots more thoughts about this and about them and about their hair which i may expand on under a cut or in the tags, but because this is already getting so long!:

to my Black viewers, and my Black readers, you belong in classic literature spaces! you deserve to see yourselves represented thoughtfully and carefully in the ‘canon’ of literature, and to challenge when you aren’t, and be supported in your critiques! your contributions to both literature as a whole (whether “classic” or otherwise) and to literary analysis and critique are invaluable and irreplaceable, both when you discuss the racism in these works and spaces and when you engage in any other kind of analysis or creation. And I want you to be able to enjoy stories of all kinds without people brushing aside your existence or pretending your concerns are invalid or don’t matter because ~it’s a great classic!~ or ~it was a different time.~ your voices and your creations and your art matter.

& on the smallest scale, i hope at least to bring you a little bit of joy. 

I'm tagging some of my art friends! I know the lateness of this in the month means it’ll be hard for anyone to probably do anything of their own for the challenge, but hopefully y’all can still check out & support all the lovely art that’s already been made for this!! @coulson-is-an-avenger @fricklefracklefloof @layalu @brainwormterrarium @seaflying-fliptuna @rootscorrode @holocephal1 and anyone else who wants to!!

& thank you to Ice for making this wonderful challenge, and thank you for all the lovely, incredible work you do on @creatingblackcharacters. truly a blessing to this world 💖💖

anyway, some more notes, because i can’t help rambling:

i referenced a lot of images & videos of people doing twist outs for this but i wanna shout out the video i watched and rewatched and paused and zoomed in on the Most; it’s by kbmaria on YouTube and called “Twist Out on Short TWA 4C Hair | Big Chop Hairstyles”!! def go check her out :]

i loved looking up 1800s hair combs (and afro picks, though it seems they were all just called ‘combs’) & 1800s sleep bonnets for this! the details of the bonnets kind of got lost in simplification (they really do just look like modern ones but with more lace!) but drawing them and the comb was still fun. i also was looking up specifically a lot of Black hair care history and there is some really cool stuff about the original invention and spread of the hot comb (used for straightening hair) and Black people’s role in that (there’s again more i could get into but i won’t right now but do look it up if you’re interested! the library of congress has a good presentation article with sources about Black hair care history. much of it is later the timeline that’s relevant to these characters in particular, but still very interesting!)

i always defaulted to giving Daggoo an Afro when i designed him (mainly because he’s described with one in the book). over recent years, i’ve definitely thought more about this decision and about whether/how to incorporate different hairstyles into representing him. whaling is a…unique situation—long, long stretches of time (we’re talking months) of extreme lethargy with no tasks to do punctuated by unpredictable short bursts (days to weeks at a time) of incredibly high intensity, life threatening, and laborious work. it leaves lots of time to do more complicated, time-intensive hairstyles (which his hair definitely could benefit from in an environment where he’s getting very sweaty, sea-salty, and wet frequently!), but any of that time could be interrupted at any moment; it’s impossible to Plan for when the whale hunts happen and put your hair in a more protective style ahead of time. i don’t really have a specific answer to this yet, but it’s smthn i’m thinking about a lot and researching a lot! visual historical references we have (that i’ve seen at least) of Black sailors of this time tend to have their hair natural and short-cropped (which is how Pip keeps his), but i def want to draw more hairstyles on Dag at different points.

in any case, i do love the idea of him doing Pip’s hair for him (even if the style will be Very temporary due to the nature of their work — he’ll probably get wet very soon 😔) and showing him how to do different ones. starting with something maybe a little easier to do (like this twist out) and maybe showing more complex ones as time goes on.

as far as hair moisturizers go, ive also done a good amount of reading over the years of what kinds of hair moisturizers were available at diff time periods (did you know lots of victorian women used egg washes in their hair to keep it moisturized? i didn’t). i like to think that Dag keeps his own personal stash of natural oil of some kind — he may have access to coconut oil/cedarwood oil/smthn like that. and if he’s ever in a pinch, apparently whale oil is a fine hair moisturizer! and was even used in cosmetics in the 20th century! so hey. got plenty of that around lmao

i think that’s all i have to say for now lmao. thank you again Ice for making this challenge 💖💖

[gnohomotho]

May I play with you? 「✦Pt.1✦」

Pairing: The Recruiter // The Salesman x fem!reader Summary: Responding to my prompts, just a little start to something I hope you'll enjoy. Warnings: General Salesman warnings, though no NSFW yet. Fowl language. Implied very bad things™. Word count: 2.4k A/N: Truly trying this out, if you like it, I'll gladly dive straight into the angst/smut/fluff but I do like to flesh out my stories and characters. (ᵕ—ᴗ—) He is a very novel character for me to write, so I'm trying. ฅ^._.^ฅ Link to next If you like my writing, I appreciate every like // reblog // follow // message // request! <3

Isn’t it funny how one can keep running into the same people?

The subway. Each and every day. You learned to scan your surroundings, wherever you were.

Just a little proclivity you adopted along the way.

Head, face, count, danger, normal.

You avoided sitting down but today, you were tired. Your grants didn’t work out. Your family needed money. You wouldn’t care, you tried not to, but your little sister meant everything to you.

Moving away so far was never something you wanted. And their ways of getting back at you, or even trying to find you (by accident, of course) never let you rest.

Head count. All normal. A few errant people on their way to work. A group of girls obviously on their way to school, laughing together. A group of older men. A well-dressed lady in her late 40s.

Gosh, you were tired. You sat down and ran a hand through your hair which fell past your face with utter indifference. Knees together, straightening your skirt, you notice your shoes are on their last legs.

“Damn it.”

You forgot the head count as the minutes went by.

Damn it!

There go the obsessive-compulsive allegations, you can almost hear them sauntering down on you. No. Your shoes get quite literally outshined by a pair of incredibly posh black spades too close for comfort.

“Excuse me, miss, I’m sorry to bother you.”

Oh no…not this again.

You lift your head and gaze to firmly tell whoever is there to kindly leave you alone. Yet your eyes meet a beaming pair themselves, accompanied by a quietly radiant smile like that of a very glad reptile.

The man was a tad leaned forward, very unassuming, with hair too perfect for the subway – come to think of it, his entire attire and demeanour did not belong here one bit.

You say nothing. Perhaps he was just apologising for sitting so close when there are, as you scanned, enough free benches elsewhere.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting all alone while most of the carriages already went by.”

How did you not notice him? How did he know?!

Your alarm bells are swinging off their hinges and you blink, averting his gaze immediately. You still see him smiling that unassuming, almost innocent smile from the corner of your eye – truly reminding you of a snake who has zoned in on a particularly slow mouse.

“I’m…waiting for someone. My…friend. Should be here any minute!” You smile with your eyes firmly closed.

That was stupid.

“Boyfriend. Yes. That.” My 6-foot-5 boyfriend whose hobbies include kickboxing, day-drinking, LARP wrestling and very long swords. Who certainly exists.

“Oh?” His voice is full of curious intrigue now, your plan backfiring spectacularly. You try not to look at the line of his perfectly ironed trousers revealing the very elegant ankles too close to your shoes.

“In that case, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting.” He gets up just as fast, playfully patting his knees as he does – why does this feel so…odd? Like you’re getting played? – “I wouldn’t wish to be rude.” He begins to walk away, and you notice his full height, the briefcase, the persona itself leaving you safe once more. An exhale escapes your lips. Enough slimy businessmen for one day.

“Oh, but miss…” He turns around, that charming, far too kind smile hitting you right between the eyes.

“…when he does show, do tell him how lucky he is to exist.”

❥❥❥

DAMN. IT.

You tried your best to focus that day. You really did. But in the back of your mind. There he was. That tall, weird, creepy, incredibly handsome mother---

“Hey, it’s ok, Y/N. Just a weirdo at a subway station. As if that’s never happened to you before.” You smile into the phone hearing your sister’s voice.

“Did you use the fake boyfriend?” She asks pointedly.

“Yes. And it didn’t really work.” You don’t wish to worry her.

“Ok, next time try the fake Instagram, fake number, and just use one of the people who didn’t like your research! Boom!” You could hear her smiling into the phone and you smiled too, warmth growing in your chest.

“You’re such a darling, you know that? I miss you…”

“I miss you too, big sis, I really do. Mom and dad can’t shut up about you.”

You massage your temples. Of course they can’t. The disappointment of the family needs to be taken into account at least thrice a day.

Her voice grows quieter. “Pretty sure they didn’t send someone this time; I’ve been keeping track.”

She read your mind, and it doesn’t calm you down. But you truly do not wish to worry her.

“It’s ok, lovely, really. Have you got everything you need?”

“Of course!”

The talk winds down into logistics and her school day, you patiently nod and laugh and wish her a sincere goodbye as you check the phone for her to hang up first.

As if by clockwork you notice your shoes are no longer alone. A pair of shining black spades rest beside them, too close for comfort.

You breathe out an exasperated breath which shakes at it last few steps.

“Can I help you?” You look up, summoning the bitchiest of bitch faces and stare into a jovially smiling pair of eyes that have sized you up three times over.

“Oh? What a lovely offer from such a lovely lady.” The words seemed to roll off his tongue as if he had practiced each and every one of them.

Nonchalant yet polite. Polite yet intrusive. Intrusive yet unassuming. Unassuming yet so very…volatile underneath.

Creepy, affluent, and pedantic? Wonderful. Just wonderful. Your sister was right, the weirdos really do tend to zone in on you.

“I thought I would keep you company since your boyfriend doesn’t seem too punctual.” His lips curl into a momentary frown, playing with you.

Even his voice is exaggerated in its faux sympathy.

“Such a rude man, letting you wait all evening. All morning. And all evening once more.” He cranes his neck to one side to be closer to your gaze, arms resting on his slightly outspread knees and hands closed into each other. You feel ice run through your back all the way down your spine.

“Do you have nothing better to do than patronise random women on the subway?”

His eyebrows lift in a combination of admiration and intrigue, hair still perfectly in place underlining those dark eyes staring right through you yet revealing nothing. The man is a walking one-way mirror, you think.

“Oh, definitely.” He looks up, shifts his gaze to the other side, as if mimicking thinking very hard upon his answer, but rests back in your eyes with a small knowing smile playing in the corner of his lips.

“I’m a busy man; I prefer to watch a specific woman on the subway. And would never wish to patronise her.”

You’re too tired for this.

“Oh? Who is she? Is she in the room with us?”

“Oh…” His entertained smile grows, fully lifting to his one cheek as he leans in even closer.

You don’t pull away for fear of letting him know you do feel fear. He leans in so close you can hear him whispering, as if trying not to be heard. He really is weird. And not in a very charming way.

Moreso in a “I wonder where the rest of the body is scattered” kind of way.

“She’s very specific,” he continues, “I hear she waits here in the morning, for a 7:00 carriage, sometimes, she lets that one leave and boards the 7:10 instead. She then, probably, based on a rumour, comes back at 20:00 but doesn’t take the immediate train – it’s been said she can be seen walking until 21:57, marking the very last train. And…”

He lets his head fall even further to the side getting very close to your line of sight, hands still clasped together, smile growing to the entirety of his mouth, “I’m rather sure she’s been seen missing that one a few times, too.”

What. In the ever-loving. Fuck.

“She rarely sits down, so it was quite hard to get all this information – classified sources, I’m sure you understand.” He straightens, but his eyes are piercing you even if you aren’t looking.

“And this particular woman seems very fond of her younger sister, [sister’s name], who loves her very much. So, so, so sweet.”

'Patronising' is a very weak word for the tone and facial expression his slightly closed, smiling eyes conveyed. His words felt like cyanide ice-cream must taste.

“What exactly is your endgame, before I call the police.” Your voice is level, your eyes missing his, your hands…shivering. You feel utterly exposed and the ice on your back has ossified into a glacier.

“I don’t think I have just one specific game in mind, miss Y/N.”

He looks fondly into the crowd boarding the current train.

“I just enjoy her company.”

❥❥❥

It became a bit of a game in the following weeks.

You changed stations, he was there, pretending to be a stranger in the crowd.

A subtle smile above the heads of all other onlookers.

You changed times, it took him a few minutes, but he was there.

Sitting on a bench in that knee-outstretched leisurely yet elegant pose, nonchalant smile finding your eyes.

You changed your favourite coffee spot; he was a few people behind in line.

Catching the corner of your eye and giving a small glimmer of a narrowed look, smile never missing.

In the end, you thought a very silly thought:

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

❥❥❥

Your shoes were once more joined by a pair of perfectly shined spades, resting too close for comfort.

“Would you like to play a game with me, miss Y/N?”

Your eyebrows lift at him, you’ve grown quite accustomed to his presence over the weeks. Though this was a change in routine.

“A game? Why?”

“I think it could be quite…beneficial to the both of us.” He smiles that charming smile and leans in closer. “I missed our little meetings, to be quite honest…the lady seemed to prefer the company of someone else over me in the last few days.”

Were those puppy eyes? An upside-down frown? Maybe your silly thought was sillier than you thought. There was something very dark in those eyes hiding behind the playfully innocent expression.

And you were spending time with your colleague, mostly working, but you cherished the presence of someone you didn’t feel would stab you in the eye the moment you looked at him the wrong way. And yes, he was clingy, and no, you didn’t feel that way about him, but at least he was transparent about it.

“Late nights spent around another man, you can imagine how lonely the station could get as she enjoyed his company.” The end of the sentence seemed to lose its usual jovial tone and made way for something far more genuine – and very worrisome to you.

“Or should I say, as he enjoyed hers?”

Was this man, with his ostentatiously perfect slick black hair, cheerful yet foreboding smile, truly accusing you of what you think he was, after everything he put you through?

“So, I think a game could cheer the atmosphere up a bit,” he purred, back to the ever-sweet persona, “and give us both an opportunity to have some fun.”

You are not particularly amused, but find it warily harmless so far. You shift away a bit, straightening your back, pulling your knees together.

“What happens to the winner?”

“Aaah, a woman after my own heart,” he exhales into a grin, steadying himself, though you can see it’s already all a game to him. It has been all along.

He unnoticeably shifts towards you, closing your newly gained distance and laying a hand between the two of you. Just close enough to not touch you. Too close for comfort.

He then leans into you, so close you can smell his perfectly chosen cologne. You feel his breath on your ear as he whispers:

“The winner gets to the location of a certain young man first.”

❥❥❥

You never really played Ddakji before. And it showed.

“Oh, miss Y/N, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Please stop enjoying this so much, I’m trying to concentrate.”

As he hands you the envelope once more, he uses the lack of distance between you to brush your hand and lean into you, once more clouding your mind with his cologne and presence far too close for comfort.

“I am enjoying this, but I’m afraid time is growing short for your little acquaintance. And I would delight in playing with you a little more.”

He pulls away from you as if he said nothing at all, smiling still.

Yet his free hand lingers close, taking its time to brush the hair from your shoulders and place it around your neck.

You pull away with the speed of a startled bird.

“Do excuse me, just making sure the view isn’t obstructed,” his lips purse into the tone as if he were doing you a favour; he points his head towards the envelopes, yet ends up looking at you as the sentence concludes:

“I prefer my games fair.”    

❥❥❥

You have no idea how, but you managed the best of three. The man doesn’t look displeased nor too amused, merely smiles and hands you a piece of paper.

Coordinates.

Holding his briefcase in both hands, once more looking more like a suave salesman, he merely leans towards you, eyes firmly holding your gaze. His face is almost plastic in its unbothered expression, but once more, something very dark seems to lurk just below the surface. He speaks as if having your very best interests at heart.

“I suggest you hurry.”

[joeyalohadream]

For the WIP game, maybe a little teaser of some upcoming Let Your Heart Be Light? 🥹🙏🏼

(ps all your WIPs sound incredible ♥️♥️)

For you, dear? of course.

“Neil calls me if he sees him,” Gale admits. “Warns me.”

“Good man.”

“He is.”

John clears his throat and brings the hand on Gale’s arm up, strokes over his hair and then cups a warm cheek. He doesn’t know the right thing to say and he wishes he did. But Gale’s looking at him like he can do no wrong, so he figures he might as well test that theory.

“If, uh,” he pulls his lips against his teeth and takes in Gale’s tired expression. He feels more relaxed, less guarded than before but John can’t shake the feeling that thinking about this, talking it about adds some invisible burden onto him and he wants to lessen it. “If you get a call that he’s in town, you can call me.”

Gale’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit before his expression smooths out into something that’s painful to look at. It feels like someone has reached into his chest and wrapped a hand around his heart when he sees hope in Gale’s eyes.

“I want you to call me, Gale,” he says, tone soft, but firm. “Will you?”

“Yeah, John,” Gale says, lips finally quirking up into that small smile and staying there. “I will.”

John leans forward, plants his lips to Gale’s forehead and thumbs over the purple smudge under an eye. Smiles into the kiss Gale props himself up to press to his lips.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Gale relaxes against him with a huff, turning his body again to lay back in his original position, head back on John’s chest. “That wasn’t even what I was planning on telling you.”

John chuckles and lets a hand find it’s way into Gale’s hair, starts playing with the long strands. “What were you gonna tell me, Mr. Chatterbox?”

A quiet snort of laughter escapes, muffled into his chest and silence follows for a minute before Gale’s voice, even quieter than before sounds again. “I told you it wasn’t like me. Forgetting to lock the doors. Not even thinking about them.”

“Uh-huh,” John confirms.

“I haven’t forgotten to lock them since the night before my dad showed up,” Gale goes on and guilt buzzes under John’s skin again at his words. “I’m a grown man and it’s silly but it’s because I’m always-” He sighs. “Afraid. Some part of me is always expecting some one to burst through the door and-”

John tightens his grip, pulls him impossibly closer, cups the back of Gale’s head and holds it to his chest. “It’s not silly, Gale. Don’t even think that for a second.”

“I wasn’t afraid tonight,” Gale ignores him, his own arm around John’s middle tightening. “Any other night, I can’t fall asleep without checking and rechecking the doors and tonight I dropped off like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

John’s eyes burn. At what Gale’s trying to say even if he isn’t outright saying it.

He feels safe with me.

“So don’t have to apologize,” Gale says after a few comfortable moments of quiet. “For being you. For making me forget for a little while.”

[blu3-ja3]

I'm adding more because I want to write Tim

"What did you do!?"

It took Tim a moment to realize it wasn't Bruce screaming, that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him from drug induced hallucinations. It took Tim longer than normal for him to process that the words weren't directed towards him or Dick whose hand stopped the soothing pattern of petting his hair. They weren't for Damian who was clutching his hand almost painful hard. They weren't for Jason...

The words were Jason, whose standing between Bruce and the rest of them. Tim could tell Jason was scared, of course the kid who'd stalked Jason since he was Robin knew that, but more than the fear. There was anger, true anger, a familiar anger that still gives Tim chills when he remembers the night at Titans Towers. When Tim was on the other side of that anger, it wasn't fun.

"What did you do Bruce," Jason says his name with such venom, it felt like if Bruce wasn't careful enough he'd get bit and there was no saving him from what came next.

Tim's hazey on the details of what led him to the infirmary in the cave. Tim remembers getting gassed, then it's just vivid hallucinations of Bruce... When he wasn't in the best place. It was less hallucinations and Tim reliving his start to Robin. Even thinking about it makes Tim's hands sweat and his throat dry, Damian noticed of course he did. His little brother gently squeezes Tim's hand and Tim is pulled back to himself.

"I- he... Jason I-" Bruce seemed genuinely stumped like he couldn't get the words out, but Tim could even without meaning to

"He wasn't in the best place Jason," Tim watched Jason's shoulders drop as he turned around, Tim continued, "Bruce had lost you, he wasn't doing okay and Batman needed a Robin. So I became Robin," Tim leaves the rest unspoken but Jason picks up on it, they all do. A house full of detectives.

"What did you do Bruce, I want to hear you say it," Jason didn't turn around to face the man, Bruce himself looked like he had been gutted like a fish.

"I didn't mean to-" Bruce started but Jason wasn't having it.

"Liar! Tell me the truth! What did you do Bruce?!" Jason whirled around to face Bruce. The man seemed to shrink even further into himself and Jason scoffed before turning around to face the rest of them. His sharp gaze cut over to Alfred.

"You knew, you allowed it to happen. Probably helped Tim bandage himself up and turn a blind eye." Alfred didn't flinch but he became almost impercivably more stiff and ridged. Jason scoffed and cut his gaze to Dick.

"Did you know?" Jason's tone was low, the anger and venom wasn't as potent. Still there but under-cut with a desperate plea to his older brother. Dick flinched before speaking.

"I- Jaybird it- you were-" Dick stumbled over his words and suddenly the fury had returned.

"Did you know Richard?" The same venom dripped from Jason's mouth as he spat out Dick's real name. Dick didn't say anything but he hung his head pulling away slowly from Tim.

"Akhi?" Damian's small voice cried out, Tim didn't know what to do at the moment. Jason's eyes were glowing a sickly green. But Damian kept going, "Akhi, how do I help?"

Jason's eyes flicked to Tim and for a small moment Tim was prepared to feel the same venom dripping from his name. But something in Jason's eyes softened, he walked over to Tim and picked him up in one arm. Then he reached down and picked up Damian in the other.

"We're leaving," Jason words were a growl, low and lethal, like a wolf protecting their young. Tim was shocked by how safe he felt in that moment.

"Little wing-" Tim watched Bruce place a hand on Dick's shoulder and Dick stopped what he was going to say. There was clear conflict in Dick's eyes then it became stead fast resolve and Dick stepped forwards.

Again Bruce's hand reached out but just as quickly as it reached a fist met his face and Bruce stumbled backwards clutching his jaw. Alfred immediately rushed to Bruce's side as Dick made long strides towards the rest of them. Jason tensed again but relaxed when Dick only followed from a distance.

"We'll talk once we're out of here," Dick just nodded solemnly at Jason's instructions.

Jason placed Tim onto the back of his bike before placing Damian on the front, reaching into his saddle bag and placing one helmet on Damian's head and then grabbing Tim's helmet from his bike and doing the same.

Then Jason got onto the bike and started it. Tim clutched onto Jason and buried his head into the back of Jason. Dick followed on his own bike. They were driving for a while and eventually Tim noticed they were crossing Gotham bridge, they were leaving Gotham city.

"Where are we going?" Tim's voice was small but he knew Jason heard it over their coms.

"Somewhere safe," was all Jason said.

They drove for hours eventually the road went from paved to gravel to dirt, the trees became thicker and more dense as they pushed further in. Jason never once drove recklessly, keeping a calm level head as he navigated the road with precision. They eventually reach a small clearing with a log cabin. Parking Jason gets off and once again picks up Tim, this time though he lets Damian walk but he holds the younger boy's hand.

Once they get to the door Jason pulls a key from somewhere and unlocks it, opening he sets Tim down and then intertwines his and Damian's hands. Gently he pushes them into the cabin while speaking.

"You two go inside, there's clothes in the back room for you to change into Tim. Sorry if they're a bit big, there's two freezers full of food for you two to eat. Me and Richard need to talk."

Damian simply nods and starts walking further into the cabin, still clutching Tim's hand.

"Come Timothy, you need to shower I'll find you something suitable to wear,"

Tim does shower quickly and finds clean clothes on the counter along with his Red Robin suit missing. The clothes are very baggy but Tim doesn't mind, he likes how he's almost drowning in the Gotham Knights sweater and the basketball shorts can be tied tight enough for them not the slip of.

Tim finds Damian sitting in the front room with a book on his lap, Tim catches the name of the book when Damian closes it: The Catcher in the Rye. Damian has also changed though Tim's pretty sure he just stole one of Jason's hoodies and that was it.

"What do you want to eat?" Tim wasn't hungry but he knew he needed to eat something.

"What are our options?" Tim shrugs so the two boys together set out to work digging through the freezes filled with food.

Eventually they find a bag of frozen tamales, the two of them instantly know it was very likely Jason's cooking and agreed to that. They followed the instructions written in Jason's hand writing and decided to make enough for all four of them, even if the younger two weren't sure if Dick would be joining them.

Eventually the food was warming up and the two boys moved to sit at the small table to wait when the door swings open, Jason comes stalking in a stack of chopped wood under one arm. Dick follows sheepishly behind, seemingly hesitant, also carrying a stack of wood. Jason drops his stack next to the first place before moving to take the stack from Dick.

"Go shower Dickhead, you stink," Jason nods towards the back, Dick just nods and walks off to grab a clean change of clothes and a shower.

Jason doesn't say anything, just stacking wood next to the first place then leaving and coming back with another stack of wood. He repeats the pattern for a bit before moving to the fire pace and checking that nothing was in the chimney, once satisfied he gets to work building a fire. He finishes right as Dick comes out of the shower. He's wearing a wonder woman t-shirt and a pair of joggers, both are slightly baggy on him. Not like Jason's clothes are on Tim and Damian but still Jason is comparably larger than Dick is and it shows.

"Watch the fire for a moment, I need to get the smell of Gotham off of me," Dick just nods and goes to crouch next to the fireplace. Tim and Damian watch Dick's face slowly go slack as he stares into the fire. Tim is the one to approach Dick, the younger boy sits down and gently leans against Dick. Laying his head gently on Dick's shoulder Tim starts humming a tune he's heard Dick hum to him before.

"I'm sorry, Tim, I'm so sorry," Dick's voice cracks with shame as tears roll down his cheeks and his body shakes, "I'm sorry I didn't protect you, I'm sorry-"

"It's okay Dick, it was complicated for you... You weren't around much. I don't blame you for what happened, you weren't in the right state of mind. You couldn't have known," Tim spoke softly and allowed Dick to pull Tim into a hug. The two jumped slightly when the oven beeped signaling that the food was done warming up. Jason appeared right on cue wearing a black tank top and wonder woman sweats.

The four all moved to the table and ate together, not much conversation being had. Tim had noticed the green glow was no longer present in Jason's eyes and he was slightly more relaxed. Once they were finished eating Jason had Dick help him drag the mattress off the bed and brought it to the living room. They all gathered pillows and blankets, creating the ultimate cuddle pile.

While waiting for Damian to finish showering, Tim found himself leaning against Jason watching the fire dance, he hadn't noticed the arm draped around him or himself drifting off until Jason spoke.

"Tim?" The boy in question hummed to single to Jason he was aware and listening.

"I'm sorry," Tim sat up and looked at Jason confused.

"For what?" Jason stared at Tim for a moment in disbelief before pulling him into a hug.

"I'm sorry for a lot of things, little wing, but mostly I'm sorry I attacked you and I'm sorry you suffered so much," Tim's grip on Jason's shirt tightened as he buried his head into Jason's chest.

"I forgave you a long time ago Jason, but thank you... Thank you,"

The four brothers held each other close that night, they didn't know what would await them in the morning. If there would be change from the one constant in their lives or if he would continue on like nothing had happened. They all hoped for the best but agreed and regardless of change or not, they had each other.

They had each other and each of them fit together like puzzle pieces, helping to rebuild one of them should one of them crumble and fall apart. They weren't perfect, no one was, but they were changing. Growing together as brothers.

someone who has the motivation to write a fic or draw please do something for me

tim and jason are on mission and tim gets fear gassed. he starts panicking when jason tries to help him and jason is afraid it’s because tim is scared of him (tim has told him a million times he’s over the titans tower incident but jason doesn’t believe him). but the reality is tim doesn’t see jason but the batman he knew when he first became robin

[thewitchblue]

"Did you join the fucking military?"

Jason asked Tim, who blinked blankly at Jason until he noticed what he was holding. Jason was holding your military tags, which Tim's selfishly kept to himself when you "lost" them. Technically, he stole the tags from you, but you can always get a new set. You'll be matching! He did feel a little bad that you got in trouble with leadership when you asked for new ones, but he's sure you'd be fine without the old pair.

"No."

Tim didn't elaborate further. The tags have practically lived on him since he stole them. He only ever takes them off for showers, which is how Jason found them. Jason scoffed,

"Good. You'd be a shit soldier. Why do you have military dog tags?"

Tim tried to take them back, but Jason held them above his head. Your dog tags are air jailed until he gets answers. Jason needed to know.

"Answer or I'll find a place to smelt them down."

Tim knew he was serious by the gleam in Jason's eyes, so he said,

"My girlfriend is in a special forces unit for the marines. She refuses to tell me which unit she's in, but I've narrowed it down."

Jason was too stunned to notice that he dropped your dog tags. Tim snatched them off the floor and put them safely around his neck again and tucked under his shirt where they belonged. He likes to say that you're closer to his heart with your tags under his shirt with the bonus of protecting him from any potential bullets. Even when you are gone, you promise that you will always come back. He's used to your deployment and the limbo you have him in.

"When do I get to meet her?"

Dick said from the doorway. He was passing by and overheard. His little Timmy has a girlfriend? When did that happen?

Tim touches the tags while thinking of what to reveal and what to keep private. He's never been good at respecting privacy, but he has been learning for you. He knows to keep anything you say to him a secret, but what about other things relating to you?

"Whenever she wants. I'm not her keeper."

Tim answered vaguely. He's flying to see you soon, and he doesn't want to be followed. You've been together for three years, but you met kind of awkwardly. You tackled him to the ground and wrestled with him after mistaking him for one of your friends.

Your willpower eventually overcame his reflexes, and he stopped struggling. You had laughed when you pinned him down and ruffled his hair in victory. It was embarrassing to him how quickly he submitted to you. He watched your eyes widen when you noticed he's not your friend. You took in the scene too slowly. You, straddling who you had assumed was your friend with your hands pinning his wrists to both sides of his head, and Tim blushing underneath you. Tim didn't know how to react either, so you both stared at each other before you started awkwardly apologising.

Tim was a mess, but he was an adorable mess. His hair was ruffled, and his clothes were wrinkled, but there were no bruises nor any scrapes. You were always careful to leave no injuries. He was breathless, just staring at you with wide eyes and a shyness that almost made you smile. He was so cute that you wanted to squish him.

You quickly got off of him once you realised how long you've been staring at him. You pulled him up from the ground when he didn't make a move to stand by himself and actually almost fell right back to the ground because his legs refused to work for him. He was understandly stunned.

This is awkward. How do you explain the tradition of you fighting your friend on sight? Your friend does the exact same thing with you. It was excellent training for your deployment to fight each other on sight without any prep. Enemy soldiers aren't going to reveal themselves before attacking, so surprise attacks help keep your reflexes sharp.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

He couldn't get the image of you pinning him down out of his head. Nobody has ever pinned him down so intimately. You were gentle. Your hold would have been easy to break out of if he didn't stop struggling. It was like you only played until one of you got pinned, and then the fight was over.

Tim was still trying to remember how to function. What does he do? What does he say? He's all shaken up. He had to look away from you. He managed to say,

"It's fine."

He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but it sounded strained. He was pretending like the wrestling really took it out of him by fake panting, but you both knew better. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but pat his back and attempted to leave.

Attempted, being the key word. Tim caught your wrist loosely and nervously said,

"I, uh... would you... Can we... Let's... I'm sorry."

He didn't have the words with you looking at him like that. He was nervous. You smiled softly at him, and he forgot how to speak entirely. He could only stare until you took the initiative and asked him to go on a date before you leave for boot camp. He nodded, and that was that. You gave him your number and continued your run like nothing happened.

The date went amazing. It was a bit unconventional as you took him to a paint gun fight after showing him the gun and explaining the rules. You grinned every time he landed a hit and even wiped away the paint that splattered onto him with a fond expression. You opened up about the fear you have about joining the military, but your desire to help. You want to make a difference, however small or large that may be.

You kissed the bruising wounds softly and banaged the bleeding ones before he could even reach for the first aid kit you brought. You helped him up with a wild grin, and he kissed you until the adrenaline ran out. The guns were empty, and you both were messes, but your hearts were full, and Tim can safely say he hates paintballing. You took him to see a movie like a normal person next date.

Jason and Dick watched their brother soften further and further as he went down memory lane. Dick was ecstatic and already plotting to meet you, but Jason was confused why anybody would date Tim. Yeah, he's had his fair share of partners, but he's surprised every time he gets a date, let alone a girlfriend.

You were his mystery girl, and their family loves a good mystery.

[ikbitchssss]

Daryl x Fem-Princess!Reader

-{He loves to go on runs and pick you up small things. A little makeup or a bow. If he sees it and he can get it, he will. He loves doing so.}-

-{You love pastel colors. (For the rest of this It can be your favorite color just pastel) He will pick up anything your favorite color. He’ll even put small bits of it in his own room. And in later seasons he lets you paint Dog a collar of your favorite color}-

-{He lets you paint his finger nails because it makes you happy. At first he thought it would be stupid but then he stopped biting them, so he kept letting you do it.}-

-{If you love a certain hobby he’ll let you test them on you. Your writing? He’ll offer to read it. Your cooking? He’ll be the first to try it. Your art? He’ll review it. You like doing makeup? You have a new victim. He’ll always be honest, which is what you love. That he’s honest about it. It helps you.}-

-{If your hair is long and wavy/straight, he learns how to braid hair so he can do it for you. He loves playing with your hair. If it isn’t wavy/straight, he learns how to play/style properly with your hair. It’s never that good but he loves doing it so you let him.}-

-{Pet names. “Princess” at first isn’t teasing, but then it just sticks. “Sweetheart/Baby” Very rare but he says it when you have tender moments. Depends on your favorite color but he’ll call you a fruit nickname based of what it is (Peach, Lem, Berry, Apple, and so on). I believe that’s his go to. (NSFW): But he’ll call you “good girl” in bed sometimes he says more, meaner things when he’s feeling spicy (usually “bad girl” maybe a “slut” here or there but I don’t think he’s TOOO big into making you feel bad. Unless you are into it. He aims to please!)}-

-{NSFW:I personally think he’d be more gentle with a Fem-Princess!Reader. Rough if you want it. But usually sweet and gentle. You are his princess of course. He wants to treat you like one}-

-{Speaking of treating you like a princess. If you have the food for it, he’ll give you a meal in bed once a week. And that whole day he’ll pamper you. I imagine it in S5-S6 after they think they are okay for a bit. And he just starts pampering you and treating you the best he can. He was doing it all before but he went to new levels when you guys were safe.}-

A/N: I have more but this was getting long I fear🙏 I’ll make a part 2 if you guys want!!! Enjoy! Also I try to make these as gender neutral and for all skin tones and body types as MUCH as possible (unless said otherwise) so I hope that’s working

[jasperhaleluver]

fanboy smut?

Yesss I've been waiting for this one! I've only ever written smut like once so I'm sorry if this is bad. I hope you guys enjoy!

Mickey fanboy Garcia x reader smut!

author's note: hi guys! I hope you enjoy this any feedback or requests are welcome. Thank you!

warnings: MDNI! 18+, mentions of alcohol, squad gets drunk, making out, smut (p in v) semi-unprotected sex? just not super reliable protection, fingering, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), aftercare, overall just smut!

no mentions of y/n, no word count, not proofread. sorry about any typos.

You were out at the hard deck with the crew, it was passed 10:30 pm on a Saturday night. You and Phoenix are sitting in the corner eating some chips and salsa while the guys are playing their hundredth round of pool.

Your phone chimes and lights up, you pick it up and see a text from your roommate. "At Jack's tonight. There's pizza in the fridge, get home safe." Ugh, of course. Sadie is your roommate and she's always spending the night at her boyfriend Jack's house.

Well it's nice to have the house to yourself, the silence is really comforting. And you can just walk home it's not too far. But you just were unsure of tonight. You sigh and set your phone down and watch the guys play their game. Gosh they are all over the place, Hangman and Rooster are singing their hearts out, Payback and Coyote are trying to keep playing but they can't even hold themselves up from how drunk they are, but then there's Bob and Fanboy. Sober and just enjoying the night.

You think fanboy is so damn cute, you've had a crush on him for a while now. You've been friends for a while and you guys are actually really close. You've even slept in his bed, not like that of course but there's been nights where you guys just hangout for so long that it gets late and he somehow convinces you to spend the night. But he would never think about you in that way.

"You're staring" Phoenix says kicking your foot to snap you out of your thoughts. "Oh." You can feel your cheeks heat up from embarrassment and you wipe your face. Phoenix chuckles and stands up. You look over to the bar and see Penny cleaning up, so it's about time to leave. You go around the pool table and the stools, you're picking up all of the empty beer bottles. They clatter together as you walk to the bar and throw them in the trashcan by the bar. You grab a rag and walk back to your area and you wipe down the messes.

"Oh hey thanks you didn't have to clean up SOMEONE's mess." Bob chuckles as he eyes down the four drunk guys. "It's no problem really, I've got no rush to get home." You return the rag and see that fanboy and Bob are struggling to get the drunk ones out to their cars. You and Phoenix go over and help them, you take rooster from fanboy so he can handle hangman.

"Woahhhh who is this pretty ladyyyy." Rooster slurs as he stumbles out the door with you and he moves your hair out of your face. "Bradley, stop it." You say and his smile fades. Everybody knows that if you're not called your callsign then you need to knock it off. Especially when it's with you. Fanboy helps hangman into the backseat, he shuts the door and opens the door on the other side for you to help rooster in.

You give fanboy a smile and help rooster in, he hits his head on the way in and hangman starts laughing. The two guys start bickering about random shit and you shut the door on them. "Have fun with these two." You laugh as you walk back inside to grab your phone. You say goodbye to Penny and walk back outside to see that Phoenix has already left with Coyote and Payback, Bob is just leaving the bar too. "Need a ride?" He asks walking towards his car. Fanboys window is rolled down and Bob sees his facial expression indicating that he was gonna ask you. So Bob doesn't insist when you say you're fine to walk. He tells you to be safe and he drives off. You noticed fanboy still hadn't left, you imagined he's just trying to get the guys settled.

You start walking as you put your hands in your pocket, it's kind of chilly. You reach the end of the parking lot and fanboy drives up to you. "Hey let me take you home, it's 11pm you're not walking home alone." He says "it's okay really, I enjoy walking." You say starting to walk away. "Fuck." He mutters, he looks around and turns on his emergency blinkers and he gets out of the car. He grabs you by the arm "seriously, you're not walking home." He looks you straight in the eyes. God he looks so good.

"Okay, fine." You give in and let him walk you to the passenger seat, he opens the door for you and shuts it too. He gets in "you can help me walk these to their front doors too. God forbid Carole thinks I did something to her baby boy, it seems more trusting if she sees you too." he laughs nodding towards the two in the back. You look back and see the two sound asleep.

You guys arrive at Hangman's house first, fanboy walks him all the way inside since he lives alone. He takes a hot minute inside, seems like he's probably tucking him into bed.

"He really likes you." Rooster grunts as he sits up straight. "What?" You turn to look at him. "Yeah I mean the way he looks at you- uh it just.. yeah-" rooster manages to say but falls back into his deep sleep. "What the fuck" you sigh and lean your head on the window.

Fanboy is finally back and you guys are back on the road, you eventually make it to Rooster's house. Both you and Fanboy get out of the car, he helps rooster out as you make it to the front door. All of the lights are still on so Carole is definitely still up waiting for him. You ring the doorbell and she immediately opens the door. "Hi sweetie!! What's happened?- she asks but cuts herself off when she sees fanboy with roosters arm over his shoulder. "Bradley Bradshaw! What has gotten into you!!." She yells in her mom voice. "He's in good hands Mrs. Bradshaw, we made sure to get him home safe" fanboy says letting go of rooster. "Get inside" she sternly says. Rooster stumbles inside and Carole thanks the two of you and follows rooster.

"You ready?" Fanboy says heading to his car, you hum and silently follow him. Again the gentleman opens the door for you and shuts it after you. You guys drive off on the way to your house now. He makes small talk on the way there, nothing fancy. He pulls in to your driveway and sees that it's empty.

"You alone tonight?" He asks. You start grabbing the door handle to get out as you mutter out a small "yeah".

"I don't know if it's a good idea for you to stay alone." He says, you get butterflies at the idea of spending the night with him. "Can you stay?" You ask. Before even giving you an answer he takes the key out of the ignition and says of course.

You two walk up to the front door, your hands shaky and sweaty as you shuffle your keys to unlock the door. You walk in and fanboy follows you in, he goes and sits on the couch. You hang up your keys and sit by him. The silence is comforting but a little bit awkward. You sigh and lean against the backrest of the couch.

"Well tonight was eventful." He says also leaning into the couch. "Oh it sure was." You chuckle. He suddenly sits back up like he just thought of something. "I need to tell you something." He says looking straight at you. "Okay..." You say looking up at him admiring him. "Okay I don't know how to say this. So I'm just gonna- he leans in just centimeters from your face. You can tell he's about to kiss you. You break the gap between you two and you lean in for a kiss. He grabs your face and kisses you deeply.

His hands snake down to your waist pulling you closer to him, he sits back, bringing you closer. You bring your leg over his and straddle him not breaking the kiss. His hands go further down and his hands are all over your lower back and your thighs. You reach down to the hem of his shirt and you swiftly take it off of him. He puts his hands back where they were, he goes a bit too low causing your hips to buck upwards basically grinding on him. You can feel how hard he is under you.

You keep slowly moving your hips causing a groan to leave his mouth. Your lips trail off to his neck, your hands are all over each other as you nip and suck at his neck. You get even lower passed his chest, your hand lands on his belt buckle. You look up to him for reassurance and he just nods his head. Your hands shuffle to take his belt off and unzip his jeans. You palm his bulge from over his boxers.

He helps you bring his boxers down and his cock springs out. You bring his tip to your mouth giving it a small lick as you feel him shiver under you. His hand is on your head as you take all of him in your mouth. You move your head sucking him off. His tip touches the back of your throat causing you to gag and your eyes get watery. "oh-it's okay baby." he moans as he caresses your face. You move your head faster, making him a moaning mess under you. "fuck. fuck oh my god you're perfect baby." he pulls you off of him, his cock falls out of your mouth with a "pop" sound.

Not letting himself cum, he brings you back up to his lap and connects his lips to yours once again. But this time, not breaking the kiss he stands up and carries you down the hallway. You can feel his hard cock even over your jeans. He opens the door to your room, holding you with his other hand.

He sets you down on your bed and he starts kissing at your neck. His hands snake down your waist and get to the bottom of your shirt. He slides it off, revealing your red bra. He puts his hands on your chest. "Can I?" He asks going for the straps of your bra. You nod and sit up for him to unclip your bra. He takes it off and as soon are your breasts are free, his mouth immediately latches to your chest while he plays with your other boob.

"God you drive me crazy." He says kissing down your body. He reaches the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up to help him take them off, revealing red lacy underwear that match your bra. "Well somebody had plans for tonight." He smirks. You let out a shaky laugh and you slide out of your underwear.

He continues kissing down towards your thighs. He taps your thighs signalling you to bring them up, he puts them over his shoulders and keeps kissing in between them. He slides his fingers through your folds. "So wet just for me baby." He says as he suddenly sticks his finger inside of you. His tongue latches onto your clit at the same time

"Oh!" You moan at the sudden feeling.

He adds another finger, curling them at a faster pace and sucking your clit. Your hand is on his head for something to hold onto. (His curls aren't grown out so you can't pull on them.)

You can feel yourself nearing your climax, you pull his hand that isn't inside of you off of your thighs and pull him up towards you.

"I want to cum with you inside of me." You say kissing his neck. "Yeah baby?" He says kissing you.

He gets off from on top of you "Do you have condoms?" He asks. "Fuck, I don't but I'm on the pill it's okay." You say bringing him closer. He sits back leaning on your headboard and you get up on top of him. You stroke him a few times before aligning him to your entrance, your free hand is on his chest as you sink down onto him. "Oh my god." You moan as he stretches you out.

He leans his head back as he grips your thighs. "Oh baby you feel so good." His hands are all over your thighs and your ass. You start rocking your hips as he still holds on to your thighs. You love seeing him like this, his mouth open, his eyes closed, and his eyebrows knitted together.

You keep riding him and you're kissing down his neck, the burning sensation in your legs hurts so good. You stop for a second to relieve the burn but he grabs your thighs and starts pounding up into you.

"Oh! God mickey! Ugh!" You moan as you bury your face into his neck. "Ugh. Oh God " he moans. The sound of moans and your skin slapping fills the room. You can feel yourself about to cum.

"Mickey I'm gonna cum!" He's still pounding into you "Let it go baby. Cum for me princess." He says. You moan loudly as you ride out your high, he still doesn't stop as he's nearing his climax too. He lets out a load moan as he cums inside of you.

You ride out your highs together as he still holds you. He stops moving into you and just holds you for a second, still inside you.

"Oh my god, you're perfect." He says moving hair out of your face. You lean up and kiss him. He lifts you by the waist so he can pull out. You both moan as he pulls out. He moves to grab his t-shirt from the floor to wipe off your inner thighs. He cleans himself up and lays back down by you.

"Come here." He says bringing the covers over him. He opens his arms for you to lay on him.

"I really like you." He says putting his hand on your head. You're laying on his chest with your arms around him. "Really? I didn't know." You chuckle. "Well I really like you too." You say sitting up and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Be my girlfriend." Mickey says looking straight at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Of course." You smile and lean in to kiss him.

Okay guys I hope you liked it!! I'm not sure how good this is but any feedback is welcome!!

[caffinedragon]

Dante Ingelvar's LI is Emmerich.

Emmerich and his relationship is one of those actual true love relationships that come with knowing someone so completely that they know full well what they are getting into and they are perfectly fine with it.

The romantic and Sexual aspects of their relationship didn't fully developed until later in their lives but ever since they were young the two men loved each other very deeply and became eachother's safe space over the years.

Due to them essentally both becomeing teacher's at teh necropolis, Emmerich being a professot of the necromatic arts and Dante being the Martial Arts trainer, they don't get out on dates very often but when they do, Emmerich is the one who usually who plans it, mostly because DAnte knows how much he loves to go all out in romantic gestures and Dante is not very good at such things. Or at least not grand ones.

He tends to stick to more simple straight forward things, like going to the cafe they both like or spending a night in and cooking dinner, or buying a new book Emmerich was looking forward to reading.

When it comes to romantic gestures, Dante's only frame of reference is Emmerich the grand gestures he pulls and so, due to struggling with such things a.k.a. his attempts never working out, he is always worried that he won't be remoantic enough for Emmerich.

However, Emmerich only sets a high standard of romance for himself when ity come to gestures and often finds that he enjoys Dante's much more accidental and organic version of the same.

Which means, Dante is often romantic by accident.

For example, Dante is a man with his heart on his sleeve and will gush about Emmerich if given the oppurtunity. There isn't a person in or outside the necropolis that doesn't know they are together because of this. Not that Emmerich minds.

Secondary example is that Dante is very crow(as in the bird) like and often is a big gift giver. And so it is not unsual for Dante to come home from shopping, running excitedly up to Emmerich and go, "Hey, Babe, look what i got for you!" and then proceeding to go on a long explanation as to exactly why he bought it, reason inculding but not limited too...

You mentioned it in a conversation two weeks ago.

The color matches your eyes, hair, skintone, etc.

It reminded me of this time when...

And so on.

Every time he does this, despite Dante's own worries, never fails to make Emmerich melt into a puddle.

If they had unlimited time and money and no obligations, i believe the two of them would take a real sabbatical and then just not do a damn thing except each other and maybe go shopping or on a walk for a while.

They are both in their 50's and have lead very busy lives up to this point, they deserve it.

As for saying things, I can't really think of anything because Dante isn't one to hide his feelings unless he has reason. *Cough* Johanna *Cough*. Not too mention, Emmerich pretty much knows everything about Dante's life and he about his so, accept for the insecurities brought up in the game, there isn't anything.

As for family, they already did through Manfred.

My HC is that Dante helped find the pieces Emmerich ultimately built Manfred from and was his biggest hype man through the process. Even thoguh he couldn't help much on the magic side of things, his ability to sing wisps and spirits into bodies helped a great deal in tranfering the little curiosity wisp into the body they built.

Dante love Manfred as if he was his kid, just as Emmerich does and was often the only person Emmerich trusted to look after him when he had to go somewhere Manfred couldn't.

Beyond that, Dante himself is often responsible for more abandoned children to survive and over the years became a surrogate dad in the same way Vorgoth was to him.

So between them and Manfred, they already have one.

My HC for stuff they did that wasn't in the game?

Dante just completely crashing and using Emmerich's lap as a pillow, at every opportunity at the lighthouse.

All the naps. Always cuddled up to Emmerich in one way shape or form. Just all the snoozing.

Dante had very little sleep during the first section of the game due to a near constant state of overstimulation and stress. So, when Emmerich joins, one of the few people he feels safe being that vulnerable around, he constantly falls asleep on him like a cat.

And when he does, Emmerich makes sure that he isn't disturbed and often will not move until he wakes up on his own or there is an emergency.

Manfred is a very dutiful guard when this happens.

This is my Fav shot so far. I call it "Proud Dad's watching their son have the time of his life."

But since you can only see the back of my Rook i give you this one too for reference of what Dante looks like:

Rook Introduction Hour 2/14/25

Happy Valentine's Day! I hope everyone celebrating is having a wonderful time! 💞💖❣️🧑🏾‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏿👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽👨🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼💌🩵🫶🏼🥰💝💘❣️

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

🎶 L is for the way you look at me /O is for the only one I see /V is very, very extraordinary /E is even more than anyone that you adore! 🎶

Today's Question(s): NOW it's all about 💕Romantic love💕! Who is/are your Rook's LI(s)? Do they go on dates together frequently? Where do they like to go together? What's the most romantic thing that Rook's ever done for them? That they've ever done for Rook? If they had unlimited time and money, and no obligations, what would they do for each other? Is there anything Rook or their LI(s) want to say to each other that they haven't yet, for some reason? If they were to settle down together, would they want to start a family? Do you have any headcanons about anything they did together during the game that wasn't shown? And lastly, do you have any pictures of Rook and their LI(s) that you want to share?

Hopefully there are enough questions for everyone to find something they're excited about! Have fun, and thanks for sharing!

(Also, if you are looking for more DA themed Valentine's day content, taamlok made a new romance themed ask game, and corvus-frugilegus is sending silly valentines! And those of you playing on PC can also download the Veilguard of Love mod that metamancer-io made, and turn your Veilguard romantic! Hope you have fun!)

[jjmbbg]

"Memories from the past"

cw: leon s kennedy x fem!reader, ptsd, trauma, nightmares, and emotional distress, leon being vulnerable basically. pookie needs a hug.

a.n: there are no serious pictures of this guy omg i love this fandom.

(pics from pinterest)

You wake to the sound of his breathing—sharp, heavy, broken.

This isn’t the first time.

The clock on the nightstand glows, marking 2:37 AM, the faint hum of the heater filling the quiet room. But beneath it, you hear him—muttering something under his breath, jaw clenched tight, body coiled with tension. Leon's back is facing you, and you can see his shoulders tremble beneath the thin sheet, his muscles flexing like he’s preparing for a fight.

Another nightmare.

You sit up slowly, really careful not to startle him. This has been happening more often lately—since Spain, since Ashley, since Luis, since the weight of everything he’s carried for years finally began to crack the armor he's spent so long building after blocking his memories from Raccoon City.

But he never talks about it. Never lets you see him like this.

Until now.

Gently, you reach out, brushing your fingertips against his shoulder. "Leon…" your voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

He flinches. Hard. A sharp inhale cuts through the dark as his entire body jerks awake.

You've seen him move fast before—too fast, really—but this is different. There's no calm calculation in the way he pushes himself upright, breathing ragged as if he's still trapped in whatever hell his mind pulled him into. His eyes, wide and unfocused, dart around the room like he’s searching for a threat.

"Hey—hey, it's me" you say quickly, sliding closer. "It's okay. You're safe"

His gaze finally settles on you. For a moment, he just stares, chest rising and falling with the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix. Then his shoulders sag, the tension bleeding out of him in one slow, shuddering breath.

"…Sorry" he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. "Didn't mean to wake you"

"You didn't" you lie, reaching for his hand. His fingers twitch slightly as you lace yours through them, but he doesn't pull away. "Was it… Raccoon City again?"

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, his thumb brushes absently against the back of your hand—a habit he's developed without realizing it, one that usually soothes both of you. Tonight, though, it feels different. Detached.

"It's always Raccoon City" he admits quietly.

You swallow against the ache in your chest. Even after all these years, it still haunts him. The city. The people he couldn’t save. The things he had to do to survive.

But this—this isn't just about the past. You can tell by the way his jaw tightens, by the flicker of something heavier in his expression.

"It's worse now, isn't it?" you ask, barely audible.

Leon's head dips in a faint nod. "Spain… it brought everything back. And Ashley…" He trails off, exhaling a bitter laugh. "I almost lost her. I keep thinking—if I'd been slower, if I'd screwed up—"

"You didn't" you cut in, squeezing his hand. "You saved her, Leon. You always find a way"

His mouth twists into something like a smile, but there's no warmth behind it. "Yeah. But at what cost?"

You've never seen him like this—not really. Sure, you've seen him frustrated, tired, even a little broken around the edges. But this—this raw vulnerability is something he's always kept locked away, hidden behind sharp wit and dry humor.

And God, it breaks you to see him like this.

Without thinking, you shift closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing yourself against his side. His body is warm, solid, but you can feel the faint tremor still lingering beneath the surface. For a moment, he doesn't move—just lets you hold him there in the dark. Then, with a heavy breath, his arms come around you, and he pulls you in like you're the only thing keeping him grounded in this world.

"You don’t have to carry this alone" you murmur against his shoulder.

He huffs softly, the sound almost self-deprecating. "Well, it's not that simple"

"I know" you say, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes—deep, endless blue—are shadowed with exhaustion. But beneath it, there's something else. Something fragile. "But I'm here. Always"

For a long moment, he just looks at you. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he says, "I don't deserve you"

The words cut through you, sharp and aching.

"You do" you tell him firmly. "You deserve this—you deserve to be okay, Leon. And you don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me"

His breath catches—barely, but you notice. And when you cup his face, brushing your thumb along the sharp edge of his jaw, he leans into your touch like it’s the only thing holding him together.

"I'm not used to this" he admits after a moment, gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Letting someone in"

"I know" You offer a faint smile, brushing a lock of hair from his brow. "But you don't have to keep shutting me out. Not anymore"

His hand finds yours, pressing it against his chest—right over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. And when he speaks again, his voice is softer. "I'm trying"

"Yeah, I know you are. And that's worth it all"

For the rest of the night, you stay wrapped in each other's arms. And even when his breathing eventually evens out and his body relaxes, you don’t sleep—not really.

Because if Leon's gonna keep fighting his ghosts, the least you can do is hold them back for a little while.

And you will—always.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹ���ˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒅 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒔

He’d carefully adjust his arm to support you better, making sure you were comfortable.

・At first, Boyd isn’t sure what to do. He’s so used to carrying the weight of everything that the idea of someone trusting him enough to fall asleep on him kind of breaks his heart.

・Because he knew that this was one of the ultimate tells of true trust. You were letting your guard down; vulnerable and helpless in sleep.

・Completely tense, Boyd could only look down at you with disbelief.

・Feeling your breath against him, he sighed. He wanted to hold you close, wind his fingers through your hair and lightly sing to you.

・But he knew that it would wake you up. And neither of you had told each other how either of you felt.

・So this is a moment where he can pretend:

That everything is normal

That you were together. Childish as it may seems.

Feeling old things that he hadn't felt in a long time...giddiness, butterflies, hope.

・Boyd has always felt so protective of you. But in this moment, that feeling is amplified.

・Stroking your hair, and planting one gentle kiss to your forehead.

・He stayed awake all night, staring at the horizon, his usual tension easing just a little. Maybe, for just a moment, he’d let himself believe that there were still peaceful moments left in this place.

𝑱𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒓𝒂

・Oh god, Jade literally malfunctions the second you fall asleep on him.

・He'd start to say something sarcastic but stop - mouth closing and body tensing.

・Jade's eyes start darting around the room, trying to think of what the next thing is...should he lay you down on the bed? Should he wake you?

・Man is confused - awkward - but he decides to listen to something other than his head.

・Noticing how his heart was pounding, face blushing, he stays still, and takes his time to look down at you.

・When he does, he thinks, 'okay sure, I guess I live here now...'

・And if anyone even glances in his direction, he glares absolute daggers at them: 'Go ahead, wake them up and see what happens.'

・Leaning his head against the top of yours, he heard something. Thinking you might have woken up, he moved and peered down.

・Turns out ... you were mumbling his name in your sleep...

・Burying his face in his hands, he sighs and says, 'god this is torture.'

・When you wake up - hours later - you stretch and blink until you notice where you are.

・Suddenly you jump up and begin to apologise profusely. Some would describe you as manic.

・Jade only shook his head, and gave you a real smile.

𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒖

・Kenny would immediately soften, his protective instincts kicking in the moment he felt your weight against him.

He’d probably wrap his jacket around you if you looked cold, a little blush creeping up his neck. And if you stirred in your sleep, murmuring his name? Oh, you just might kill him on the spot.

・There'd be such a caring look in his eye as he peered down at you; a small smile appearing.

・He'd also just slowly adjust his position so you were both comfortable (he decided you were both going to stay there for a while.)

・If there was anyone that walked by, Kenny would give them a look that obviously said: 'Don't you dare wake them up.'

・And while giving that look, he would gently place a hand on your head and stroke your hair - like you've been done this together countless times

・Every time he glances down at you, his expression becomes so soft. Kenny so wanted to do this every night for the rest of his life.

・And his brain kept replaying: 'they trust me, they feel safe with me'

・If it's cold - or even mildly chilly, Kenny would slowly and (awkwardly) shrug off his jacket and drape it over you.

・If you nuzzle into him or sigh in your sleep, he has to bite his lip to keep from smiling too hard.

・When you eventually wake up and apologise, Kenny just chuckles and nudges your forehead with his.

𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑲𝒂𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉

・You didn't mean to - but you were relatively new in town and staying in Victor's outside shelters.

・When you laid your head against Victor's shoulder, falling asleep instantly, all he did was blink.

・Then he blinked again.

・He stared down at you and tried to process what was happening... and then he remembered something. People would do this when he was young - his mother would fall asleep on his father on the couch.

・Still peering at you, he notices the way your eyelashes flutter as you dream, the soft rise and fall of your breathing...it’s… nice. Unexpected, but nice.

・He may not understand a lot of people’s emotions, but he does understand how rare moments of peace are in this place.

・He stares at you for a long moment, tilting his head like he’s committing the image to memory.

・If he had a sketchbook nearby, he would start drawing you, quietly tracing your features with a kind of gentle awe.

・If you shift slightly in your sleep, nuzzling against him just the tiniest bit, he freezes for a second.

・When you wake up and realise where you are, you jump up; apologizing, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

・Victor would shock you with

𝑫𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

・Donna immediately goes into protective mode. She doesn't care how long you sleep; she's gonna make sure nothing disturbs you

・While you're alone, Donna lets out a quiet chuckle, and a fond shake of the head. She rests a hand lightly on your arm.

・Knowing how rare comfort was in this place, she would let you spend all day asleep on her.

・If anyone made a joke about it, she’d give them that look that meant 'speak or die.'

・Donna rests a hand lightly on your back, rubbing slow circles without even realizing it.

・Wiggling closer to her, the majority of your body atop her. All Donna does is shake her head and smile. She runs her fingers through your hair, gently brushes her thumb against your cheek.

・When you start to mumble in your sleep, it makes her laugh. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?

・And if you woke up apologising? She’d just smirk, squeeze your hand, and say, It’s fine, sweetheart. You needed it.

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑲𝒊𝒓𝒌𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅

・Randall stiffens immediately when you lean on him, your eyes drifting closed.

・His brain does goes haywire, mind racing a million miles and yet completely blank at the same time.

・Randall slowly turns to you (very very slowly as to not wake you), and stares down at your now sleeping form.

・He has no idea what to do with his body - especially his hands. Does he just stay completely still until you wake up? He doesn't want to move. All Randall really wants to do is wrap an arm around you, and pull you close.

・Without making a decision, Randall just sat there, with a small smirk on his face.

・You had jumped on his bed at the hospital, well underneath the hospital where he now lived...

・You weren't going to stay the night, but you were so tired from your shenanigans throughout the day

・Randall smiled at the memories you two were making; even though neither of you had admitted your feelings for one another.

・Slowly moving his arm, he gently moved the hair from your face. But then you snuggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around his middle and laying your head on his chest

・Holy shit, he thought.

・In this hell hole, happiness was fleeting. It seemed as though the emotinon did not exist. But this moment proved that theory wrong.

・He finally allowed himself to rest his chin lightly atop your head.

・And if you wake up and shyly apologize? He grins and says, Nah, babe. I think you just found your new favorite pillow.

[godmodebeginswithlesbians]

a woman gets isekaiied into a fantasy world as a heavy armor knight, finds her long hair is too tedious to care for and gets in her face way too much and cuts it short, and slowly collects a group of friends from this world that in typical isekai fashion, form a guild with her. however- her voice is deeper than the average woman's, her figure is generally pretty androgynous even without the armor, and her behavior is read by these people as more masculine than how the same behavior would be read in her home world, so all of her friends think of her as a man. she finds that she doesnt really mind, which is helpful as the government in this fantasy world is like, really weirdly fascist, and if she revealed her gender there is the chance she would be reported and then killed for crossdressing. as she grows closer to her guild, bits of her backstory are revealed, she was killed/isekaiied the normal way (hit by a car or van or smth) while on her way to visit her terminally ill sibling in the hospital and feels really guilty about "leaving her parents to deal with that alone" or some shit. all things considered though, she's pretty ok otherwise. now, she's also pretty genre savvy, and realizes pretty quick what happened, and notices that the cast of characters around her tend to be flirty women, tho sometimes they arent flirty, and sometimes they arent women, and somethings they're neither, and kinda panics about it. she considers her options, which prob consist of like. a catgirl, a mage girl, a healer dude, a warrior guy and warrior girl (twins?), a knight in shining armor girl, a rogue/theif girl, a regal woman who's totally not a deposed princess from somewhere or another, and a younger brother type figure, and figures, y'know, she probably would've known by now if she were attracted to ladies, and they all seem to have eyes for each other rather than her, anyhow. so she decides to go after healer dude, he's cute and kinda nonassuming, and she won't be getting in the way of whatever kind of situationships the rest of her guild have found themselves in that way. so, she starts to act on that, and over the story realizes that hey maybe she should've cared more about politics in her old life, this fascist regime is killing children and people who were nice to her all because they didn't fit the mold of what they were supposed to be, and hey! maybe "she" didn't really fit either, and only thought of a future that was pushed on "her" because there wasn't really another option that immediately presented itself - an easy and nonconfrontational future with a "normal" husband and "normal" kids working a "normal" job and, and, and.... and he comes to a few more realizations along the way, learning to be happy as himself, with the people he cares about, and discovers that maybe there is some truth to that old trope that queer people tend to converge around each other and exist in groups after all, and subtly helps them get together (or apart from people/futures they don't care about) all while making plans with them to overthrow the fascist regime so that everyone in this world can live safely and happily. i figure the eventual get together between our armored protagonist and the healer is in the last couple chapters before the endgame, and has some statement about finding love and belonging and happiness, and moving on from old grief over his sibling and worry for his parents - there's nothing he can do to change the past, after all, he can only work to improve the future - and idk how it ends except that healer dude says he'll wear a dress at their wedding because he generally just loves being a feminine guy, and happily ever after and whatnot, reinstallation of a citizen-decided government or smth like that.

[lunamarvels]

Your fav seb look from 2024??

(I’m just asking this as an excuse to see some pictures of him because you post the best ones 🫣🫣)

I’m blushing… thank you so much for this ask, I’ll give you five just because you said that 🤭🤭

1. Cannes Film Festival 🖤

2. LA Magazine Leading Man Party ✨

3. Zurich Film Festival 💫

4. The Met Gala 📸

5. Kering Women In Motion Dinner 🫶🏻