#i thought i was good at finding things but this one just keeps not being available

[gospelica]

just a thought but imagine older bf nanami

that’s it.

EEEEEEK! <3

older bf!nanami is the one to show you how a real man should act in a relationship! he gives you your first taste of being doted on by a gentleman and god is he good at getting you hooked. he takes you on proper dates: out for dinner and movies and nights dancing. picks u up from college or school or work and he opens the door to his car for you and once he’s in his seat leans over to buckle you up n kiss your cheek at the same time :(

older bf!nanami is mature enough not to care about the things said about the age gap too. he knows his intentions and he knows what he has in you and he isn’t about to let someone’s opinion change that! plus his coworkers are a little sleazy and nanami doesn’t mind much the jealous looks they give him when u drop him off some lunch and stay a little too long to kiss him long and good!

older!nanami likes calling himself ur partner because boyfriend feels too juvenile for him. but you call him your boyfriend like it’s the biggest badge of honour in the world (it is) and so he takes it in stride!

sometimes you like teasing older!nanami about his age too. you’ll use slang in texts that he doesn’t understand and laugh at him when he learns and uses it in the wrong context. or you’ll pluck a grey hair (he swears you’re the cause of them) from his hairline and tell him all gooey that you love him even if he’s a grumpy old man :(

also he takes over all the paperwork. taxes n forms and files all belong to him now as long as u sit on his lap while he fills em out :))))) <3

(nsfw under cut)

older!nanami is kind of a perv tho … :( he can’t help it! you just have fresh eyes and youre excitable about things that ppl his age don’t care for anymore, why does he get hard when you tell him the latest gossip between your friends? he does not know. but it’s ok because you’ll stroke him nice and slow while you ramble on about his day and he likes it that way.

older!nanami has that extra layer of experience too. he hasn’t taken that many lovers but he’s read enough erotica in his time to know just how to please you. he shows you positions and pleasures you didn’t even know were possible before him!

older!nanami worships your body too. you’re young and so perfect to him that he can’t help but let you know just how much he loooooves you. kisses all over your body, all the time. he holds your hand and kisses your knuckles while he fucks you :((

older!nanami spoils his baby too, always. you’re always finding new lingerie or toys waiting for you on the bed when you come home after a long day. he never expects anything in return but doesn’t mind getting to see you in the pretty sets his paycheck goes towards!

older!nanami might have to keep buying you lingerie though. because you keep complaining about your panties going missing. it’s not like nanami is a huuuge perv who steals them to jerk off into when ur not together or anything! he’s definitely not a panty sniffer!!!!!

i luv older bf nanami <3

[agirlinthegalaxy]

Hi! Fellow person with an English degree, along with working for an academic company that has a short college textbook about AI! One of the things that was discussed was hallucinations, which is incorrect information that AI presents as fact. Because the thing is, AI isn't capable of critical thought on its own. It takes in all of this information from the internet, but, as well all know, the Internet isn't inherently a trustworthy source of information and AI isn't capable of actually verifying this information.

One of the ways that we demonstrated this in our textbook is by inputting "Who won the 2022 presidential election?" This was using a previous ChatGPT model, but it actually would answer the question genuinely as if there had been a 2022 presidential election. Another way that I found personally is that I would begin discussing television shows and push it, and without fail, it always began making a lot of errors about obvious plot points and would be unable to keep it straight. Here's an input where I ask for an explanation of the finale of the Charmed (1998) series. (Spoilers for that ahead, but also the show ended nearly twenty years ago, so.)

While a lot of people probably don't know a lot about the show, here's the most relevant part: the entire Ultimate Power section is a complete fabrication because, while they exist, they're distinct characters with a completely different background. (And before anyone says anything, the point isn't about how recognizable the show is, it's about the AI literally makes up false information and presents it as truth when it's very easily disproved.)

Another way of illustrating AI's hallucinations is asking an either/or question, presuming that an event happens. Now, in full transparency, I have not read Dracula since 2021/2022, but I'm about eighty percent sure that this is an example of a hallucination. If not, my apologies, but I'm sure you can find a hallucination if you input it enough similar statements.

Beyond clearly just knowing what is accurate or not, AI also, like the previous OP said, doesn't know what is important. In many classes, when you're discussing some kind of novel, small details will of vital importance whether it about character, plot, or theme of the book. Demonstrated by one of my professors who asked us about the symbolism of the horse that Thomas Sutpen rode into town in the beginning of Absalom, Absalom only to very loudly proclaim that it was between his legs as a phallic symbol, which honestly was probably correct with the author William Faulkner being who he is. Side note, but he was a weird man, and I still don't like his works. If I was a student in that class today, here are the two different shortcuts I could have gotten.

(ChatGPT)

(SparkNotes)

Between the two, even disregarding that SparkNotes' summary is four paragraphs to ChatGPT's three (since the girl in the og Twitter post used three), SparkNotes just provides so much more information and detail. I'd argue that ChatGPT doesn't even summarize it efficiently anyways. So if you're just trying to cheat for class, ChatGPT still isn't a good option.

But I think the worst thing is that the people in the original Twitter convo aren't even reading for class. They're (presumably) reading for enjoyment, which makes it so much more bizarre to me. Because the thing is, and this is a rare one for me to say, you don't... have to read if you don't enjoy it? Once you've left school, very few places (unless you intentionally opt into it or have a very specific job) will make you read novels in your free time. Furthermore, I really can't fathom problems that ChatGPT solves that, say, an audiobook can't? Discussing these two specific instances individually:

If you're wanting to learn more about what Aristotle said in more readable English, baby, he's Aristotle. I can almost guarantee you that there is some kind of book out there, or even something online if you'd like to use the Internet, explaining his philosophy in easier to understand terms. Also with philosophy, I think that "main gist" can be a bit of a trick in of itself because it's designed to make you think critically about these ideas. Sometimes, the "main gist" is even the opposite of what they may seemingly be arguing because they're mocking it.

As for reading a book recommendation by a friend. ... girlie pop, you literally could just not read the book. I've gotten plenty of book recommendations that I've never read and my friends are not insulted at it. If it's a bid for connection, I'd argue that this is more insulting than simply not reading it because if you don't want to invest the time into it, that's fine but this weird shortcut way as if it's beneath your time is... oof. But especially if you want to discuss it, because AI will not include every beat and a lot of a novel is in the way it's written, the pacing or tension, etc. Things that an AI summary can't define out for you to have an actual meaningful conversation. That's something I do when I see a movie that looks halfway interesting but don't care enough to actually sit down and watch it. And even then, I'd never go back to that friend and act like I actually consumed that media; I'd probably just say that it sounds good because I still have not actually truthfully engaged with it!

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about AI, especially in classes, literature, and media in general. Most of them are very negative, but I mean, please don't hand over your critical thinking of what you're consuming to artificial intelligence. Its intelligence is artificial; yours is not.

what is HAPPENING

[mosoderbergh]

Emmrich and the good old fashioned body heat trope

Ok, there’a a thing about Rook and Emmrich pre-romance and the “caught in the cold” trope that is just beautiful to me. Because it would go a lot more innocently than with other pairings. Emmrich is far too much of a gentleman. But that’s what makes this so cute. Like… hear me out.

Emmrich knows the importance of keeping warm and the advantages of sharing body heat. He’s the sort of man who would read up on survival procedures before venturing out into extreme weather.

But surely, a shirt is thin enough to not significantly hinder the transmission of warmth. Surely he couldn’t be expected to strip entirely. He gets rid of some layers, but stays buttoned up to his neck. (Rook is shirtless the moment the words “it might be advisable to, well, huddle up” exit Emmrich’s mouth. They notice Emmrich spends the rest of the night holding intently focussed eye contact.) They cocoon themselves in blankets, sitting by the fire, shoulder to shoulder, backs leaning against insert obligatory cave/cliffside/tree trunk here. Emmrich has read just enough bodice rippers that an image comes, unbidden, to his mind. Of a broad-chested hero gallantly drawing the object of his desire into his muscled arms as they shiver and swoon. He is shocked at himself when he feels a blush creep up his neck. To even allow such a thought! This is nothing like that. A dashing hero may be present, yes, but they are caught in the cold with a colleague several decades their senior. There is nothing swoonworthy about it.

Emmrich files the thought away, and despite the awkward situation, the evening goes on… really rather pleasantly. They end up talking for a good long while. Rook opens up about their own upbringing and Emmrich elaborates on his. They share nostalgic memories. Emmrich recounts some shenanigans from his student days, and Rook can’t believe there’s a mischievous side to him (the mischievous side in question was called Johanna, but Emmrich doesn’t speak her name).

At some point, the comfortable silences stretch out longer and longer. Rook’s head rests on Emmrich’s shoulder. They aren’t quite asleep yet - when he reacts to the contact with an intake of breath, they draw back for a moment. But then, Emmrich leans in, just slightly. Just enough to let them know the touch is not unwelcome. The way Rook curls up at his side then makes Emmrich ache a little. As someone who is an authority figure to so many people (in a way that isolates him sometimes) this simple act of intimacy is precious to him. A show of trust on such a personal level. It takes him more courage than he’d like to admit to rest his cheek against Rook’s hair. The way Rook sighs contentedly gives him goosebumps. It’s been quite a while since Emmrich has shared a bed with anyone. And this is an unusual situation, but still… he can’t help but think how he has missed it. The companionship. The warmth. Sinking into sleep with the comfort of a friendly presence. The intoxicating closeness of someone who has found their way into his heart - this is another thought he tucks away neatly.

And because I can’t resist another trope, of COURSE they shift in their sleep. Emmrich wakes to find himself spooning Rook, with one hand resting on their stomach. They are soft there, and radiating heat. Emmrich thanks every deity he can recount that he tends to wake up early, because if he hadn’t been hard upon waking, the sensation of their body against his, their skin underneath his fingertips would have done the trick. He retreats discreetly to lie on his back. Only for Rook to shift and settle with their head on his chest, one leg draping over him, grazing his erection in the movement. Emmrich forgets to breathe.

He does wake them up, after he’s gotten a hold of himself somewhat. They untangle from him with a sleepy apology. And Emmrich, for a moment, wants nothing more than to stop them, or pull them back into an embrace, or…

He chastises himself for being a touch-starved old fool. Making so much out of nothing. But then Rook slides a hand up to squeeze his shoulder, and they smile at him brightly, beautifully, and ask him if he slept well. And it’s all he can do to swallow a rather wordy confession of his growing infatuation.

(The beauty of Emmrich, to me, is that he’s both a “I could out-sex any man in this room” kind of guy AND an “omg I can’t believe our hands touched” kind of guy. I love him.)

[possessedmen]

The Spell of Desire

In the dim light of the evening, Ezra, a reserved art history major, returned to his university dorm room, his mind preoccupied with his unrequited feelings for his roommate, Brandon. Brandon was the epitome of a college jock—muscular, charismatic, and, to Ezra's knowledge, straight. Their shared living space was a constant reminder of what Ezra couldn't have.

As Ezra entered, he froze at the sight before him. There, sprawled on his bed, was Brandon, or so he thought, in all his naked glory. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioner, and Brandon's usual confident demeanor seemed replaced by a strange vulnerability.

"Brandon, what the hell?" Ezra managed, his voice a mix of shock and intrigue.

The man on the bed shifted, sitting up with a look of flustered confusion. "Hey, Ezra, uh, I was just... I thought I'd surprise you. You know, with a, um, prank. Yeah, a prank," he said, his voice not quite matching Brandon's usual deep timbre. It was higher, more nervous.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A prank? Since when do you prank me by getting naked on my bed?"

"Well, you know, I've been feeling a bit adventurous lately. Wanted to spice things up around here. Plus, it's hot, and I thought, why not cool off a bit?" The faux-Brandon chuckled awkwardly, trying to mimic the easy laugh of the jock.

Ezra couldn't help but let his gaze linger over the body that was supposed to be Brandon's. There was something off, something not quite right in the way he moved, the way he spoke. "You're acting weird, Brandon. What's really going on?"

"Okay, okay, you got me. I'm not Brandon. I'm Theo. Theo from your literature class. I... I used this old spell book I found in the library. I swapped bodies with Brandon because I've been crushing on you for ages. I wanted to be close to you, to... to see if you felt the same."

Ezra's eyes widened, the pieces falling into place. "You swapped bodies with Brandon? With black magic?"

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy. I'm sorry, I'll reverse it, I just—"

"No, wait," Ezra said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "If you're going to be Brandon, let's make this believable. What would Brandon say now?"

Theo, still in shock, tried to think on his feet. "Uh, he'd probably say something like, 'Hey, roomie, you caught me. Now, what are you gonna do about it?'"

Ezra chuckled, "That's more like it." He began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned physique slowly, deliberately. "And what would Brandon do next?"

Theo swallowed hard, his borrowed body looking out of place with the expression of a shy nerd. "He'd probably... um, flex a bit, show off, right?" He awkwardly flexed one of Brandon's muscular arms.

"Close, but let's make it more... intimate," Ezra suggested, letting his shirt fall to the floor. He climbed onto the bed, his body close to Theo's, the heat between them palpable. "So, 'Brandon', what do you think of this?"

Theo's eyes followed Ezra's movements, his breathing quickening. "I... I think you look good, Ezra. Really good."

"Shh, just keep being Brandon," Ezra instructed, a playful smirk on his lips as he leaned in, capturing Theo's lips in a kiss that was both exploratory and demanding. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, "What would Brandon say if I kissed him like that?"

Theo, encouraged by Ezra's seduction, began to settle into Brandon's identity. "He'd probably say, 'Damn, Ezra, you're full of surprises. But I like 'em.'" His voice was gaining confidence, mimicking Brandon's casual arrogance.

Ezra laughed softly, his breath warm against Theo's skin. "And what would he do?"

Theo, now more playful, pulled Ezra closer, his hands finding his waist with a newfound boldness. "He'd pull you in like this, and say, 'You wanna play, roomie? Let's play.'"

Ezra let out a low moan, "Good. Now, what would Brandon want next?"

Theo, channeling Brandon's confident, friendly arrogance, whispered, "He'd want you to join him, to make this moment even more real." His voice was steady now, playful and teasing.

Ezra's eyes sparkled with desire. "Is that so? Well, let's not disappoint 'Brandon' then." With a fluid motion, Ezra undid his belt, letting his pants slide off, joining Theo on the bed fully. "What's next, 'Brandon'?"

Theo, feeling the heat of Ezra's body against his own, grinned, "He'd probably say, 'You're making this too easy, Ezra. But I like it.' And then maybe he'd..." Theo hesitated for a moment before continuing with a smirk, "He'd start kissing your neck, right?"

Ezra tilted his head back slightly, giving Theo access, his voice low and seductive, "Go on then, show me how 'Brandon' does it."

With a newfound confidence, Theo leaned in, his lips brushing against Ezra's neck, planting kisses that were firm and teasing, just as Brandon might do. He felt the thrill of embodying the jock's persona, the playful arrogance coming naturally now. "You like that, huh, Ezra?" Theo asked, his voice now a perfect mimic of Brandon's casual, cocky tone.

Ezra chuckled, his voice a soft moan, "Yeah, I do. What’s next Brandon?"

Theo's hands roamed over Ezra's back, pulling him closer with a confident grip. "I'd probably want to feel more of you, to make sure you're as into this as I am." His fingers traced the line of Ezra's spine with a deliberate slowness, savoring the reaction he elicited.

Ezra, feeling the shift in Theo's demeanor, whispered, "And what would you say if we went further?"

Theo, fully immersed in Brandon's identity, smirked, "Finally, took you long enough, man. Let's see what you've got." His tone was playful, almost challenging, as he watched Ezra's hands move to the blanket covering him.

Ezra smiled, his hands moving to pull the blanket away, revealing Theo fully. "Then let's not keep 'Brandon' waiting." As the blanket fell, Ezra took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes dark with desire. "You look good, 'Brandon'. Really good."

"You know, Ezra, you've always been too fucking quiet for your own good," Theo said, his voice a low, teasing growl that was unmistakably Brandon's. "Let's see if we can make you scream tonight."

Ezra, his heart racing with anticipation, looked up at Theo with a mix of excitement and surrender. "Show me then, 'Brandon'."

Theo smirked, the cocky grin that was so characteristic of Brandon spreading across his face. He leaned down, his lips capturing Ezra's in a kiss that was commanding, leaving no room for doubt about who was in charge. His hands roamed over Ezra's body with purpose, guiding him to lie back on the bed.

With a fluid motion, Theo positioned himself above Ezra, his movements confident and assured. "You ready for this, roomie? 'Cause I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he said, his voice dripping with playful arrogance and a vulgar edge.

Ezra nodded, his breath hitching as he felt Theo's presence so close, so dominant. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Theo, now fully embracing the role of Brandon, didn't hesitate. He took Ezra's hands, pinning them gently above his head, his gaze intense. "Good, because I'm not holding back, you little slut," he whispered, his tone a mix of promise and challenge.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the rustle of sheets, and the low, appreciative moans from Ezra as Theo explored his body with a deliberate slowness, savoring each reaction. Theo's touch was firm, his movements those of someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was Ezra.

As Theo prepared to take the lead, he maintained eye contact, ensuring Ezra was with him every step of the way. "You're gonna love this, Ezra," Theo said, his voice confident, as he positioned himself.

Ezra, caught in the throes of desire, could only nod, his body responding eagerly to Theo's dominance. The moment was charged with an electric intensity as Theo, embodying Brandon's assertiveness and vulgar charm, began to move with a rhythm that was both commanding and raw.

Their connection deepened with each thrust, each movement a testament to Theo's complete immersion into Brandon's identity. Ezra's moans grew louder, his hands gripping the sheets as Theo took him to heights of pleasure he hadn't known before.

"You like that, huh, you dirty boy?" Theo teased, his voice a husky whisper in Ezra's ear, maintaining the playful arrogance that had become his second nature. "Tell me how much you fucking love it."

"I... I love it," Ezra managed between gasps, his body arching into Theo's with every motion. "You act like him so well, Theo. You've made him so fucking edgy, and I love it."

As they reached the peak of their passion, Theo's confidence never wavered, his control over the situation absolute. The culmination of their encounter was explosive, leaving them both breathless and satisfied, as Theo came inside Ezra with a groan that was all Brandon's vulgar satisfaction.

In the quiet that followed, Ezra turned to Theo, his eyes soft with affection. "You know, if you could really stay as Brandon, I wouldn't mind at all. You could stay like this forever."

Theo chuckled, still in character, playing up the confusion with an ironic twist. "Stay as Brandon? What are you talking about, man? I am Brandon, you idiot. Always have been," he replied with a smirk, his tone playful yet convincing in its irony.

Then, as he lay there, still inside Ezra, Theo added with a mix of sincerity and vulgarity, "But you know what, Ezra? Your hole makes me crazy like no girl ever did. Fucking you, it's... it's something else, man."

Ezra laughed, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. "Right, 'Brandon', right. But seriously, you're incredible like this."

Theo, or 'Brandon', pulled Ezra closer, their bodies still intertwined. "Well, then, let's keep this going, roomie. Because I'm not going anywhere." And with that, they drifted into a contented sleep, the boundaries of their reality blurred by the magic of the night, the playful deception of identity, and the unique intimacy they had discovered.

[danikamariewrites]

Hiiii cutie! I don't know if you take a request, if you do I'll leave you mine THANK YOU I hope you're well! You could write about Reader and Azriel have to share a bed. They have no problem with it but they didn't know that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves (not in a sexual way) but they could wake up in the middle of the night finding the other one cuddled up to them haha ​​something sweet and tender

Bunk Buddies

Azriel x reader

Warnings: none

“Hey,” you chirp, floating into the spare bedroom that’s Azriel’s for the night. He gives you that soft, rare smile. “Hey. I thought you were going to sleep?” You let out a long dramatic sigh, flopping onto the bed next to him.

“The couch isn’t as comfy as I thought it would be.” You scrunch your face thinking about the lumpy cushions. “Well yeah, it’s a two hundred year old piece of furniture.” Az laughs, nudging you.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I even brought this big blanket we can share.” How could Azriel say no to you? With those beautiful eyes and sweet smile always influencing his decisions. Az pulls back the covers for you. You quickly tuck them under your chin, still wrapped in the big blanket you promised to share.

“It’s always so warm under your covers.” You sigh in comfort. Azriel’s heart stutters at the comfort he brings you. This isn’t the first time the two of you have been ‘Bunk Buddies’, as you called it on your first mission.

You never liked being alone during missions. Knowing Azriel was in the room next to you was comforting, but there was always this pull to be close to him. Even at the House of Wind you hated being alone. The house was big and cold. Azriel was warm and made you feel less alone.

Besides Cassian and Rhys, you were the only person Azriel would stay up all night talking to. You two would gossip, talk about life in general, and what Rhys did as a boss to piss you off. He wouldn’t have his nights any other way.

You fell asleep quick, Az tried to not be upset you guys didn’t have your usual talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Azriel doesn’t know how much longer he can keep his pining to himself. His brothers, especially Cassian, have been teasing him about his crush.

It’s more than a crush though. Azriel can feel it, he wants it to be the bond and has reached for that feeling in his chest for weeks now. Trying to will the bond to snap into place.

The Shadowsinger fell asleep before he could keep thinking about the bond.

In the middle of the night Azriel was woken by something grabbing at his wing. He shot up in bed, looking around the room looking for who would dare attack his wings. His shadows swarm around his shoulders instead of around the room like their master wants.

“What are you,” Azriel trails off as he feels a hand slide down his ribs. He finds you sound asleep, clinging to his side. Breathing out a sigh of relief at the lack of an intruder Azriel laid back down. Usually it was Az who would wake up finding himself wrapped around you.

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours trying to find a comfortable position while trying to give you your space.

You stir, catching Az’s attention. Blinking slowly at him you tilt your head. “Why are you up?” You mumble. “Just thinking.” Az replies honestly. You let out a low hum, snuggling into his side again. Falling asleep as fast as you woke up.

Azriel gave in, letting his arms wrap around you. Drifting off into a peaceful sleep, a warm feeling in his chest helping lull him. He smiled to himself. Knowing the bond snapped as peacefully as he felt with you felt right.

[writella]

Daryl Dixon Kissing Daydreams— A little look inside Daryl’s memories of kissing his favorite person in the world.

Details: Daryl Dixon x reader (no pronouns are used but there is one instance that I use the word princess), suggestive but overall, just some lovely sweetness! wc: 2k, slightly proofread— my apologies about any misspells, I just really want to get this out and get back to writing!!!

A/N: Let’s get back into things. ♡ I hope you’re all doing well. With love from writella. ♡

Daryl Dixon loves kissing.

He’d never admit it though— albeit that is a weird thing to admit out of nowhere— and he’s never said it out loud— albeit that is a weird thing to say out loud in most normal instances as well— but either way, he does. He really, really does.

Ironically, it’s his fifth favorite form of affection.

The first is acts of service. He doesn’t call it that though. He probably doesn’t even know the phrase. To him, it’s just being useful. Helping, or as he’d pronounce it, helpin’, or jus helpin’ awut.

This includes hunting to feed others, preparing food (even though he’s awful at it other than roasting things on a fire, so everyone agrees, just hunting), remembering things you like and getting them when and if he can find them, thoughtful gifts that remind him of you— basically any stones or trinkets he finds on his journeys, finding shelter if need be, keeping you safe and warm— even at the expense of himself, fixing things, taking the time to teaching you survival skills you want to learn, the sort.

The second is beating the shit out of people in his loved ones honor. Walkers, “Saviors,” men named Negan, basically, anyone out to kill you. He didn’t like seeing people hurt his friends, but he does enjoy when he gets to fuck people up in case it happens. To that, a subconscious part of Daryl’s brain says thank god there are no therapists in town; or, that they are either too scared to speak to him or have not gotten the chance to speak to him so he doesn’t have to reckon with the fact that his not-so-secret thirst for punching and shooting arrows at people might be just a little too high.

The third is listening. He didn’t know he was good at this until you told him. He doesn’t interrupt and he is not quick to judge, you had said, “or really you just know how to keep the mean things to yourself.” He smiled at that. He realized that yes, he is a silent judger, but he’s also pretty open-minded. He liked that about himself, and he found out because of you. It made him feel nice.

Also, if you were wondering, yes, you may have noticed that these three forms of affection can all be argued as kinds of acts of service, but again, Daryl doesn’t know phrases like that, and even if he did or if he was classifying any of his interests or skills, beating people up and shooting things with arrows would always be in its category.

The fourth is hugging– another one he wouldn’t admit out loud. He’d never say he needed a hug, but wouldn’t deny a friend one, and they became more meaningful to him after moments he’d thought he’d never see them again, or see you again. Hugs became incredibly important then. It made him realize that hugging was also the first form of intimate, physical touch that he ever felt comfortable with. He obviously didn’t grow up in an affectionate home, but he was at least used to getting a pat on the back from Meryl when he caught something good to eat, said something Meryl thought was funny, or did whatever Meryl told him to do “right the first time.” Seldomly though, if Meryl was in one of his good moods, he’d give Daryl an actual hug, one of those nice, brotherly ones. Maybe Meryl was laughing with his friends when saw Daryl, beckoning him over, hugging him by the side saying, “Hey little brother,” as he tussles Daryl’s hair; or at night, when Meryl stumbles in as a sleepy-go-lucky-drunk, lazily throwing his chest and arms around Daryl, telling him, “I love you.” He knew never to take it that seriously in those moments, but he did, he couldn’t help it even if he was good at making it look like he didn’t from the outside. The only other time Meryl would do or say that is when one or both of them got it from their dad. Nevermore did they feel closer, as if they were one half of the other, than in moments like those. Daryl felt almost bad for liking it. He used to have to earn affection, he realized. He’s almost ready to talk about it. With you. You give him so much so freely. He’s shocked and sometimes terrified by it. But your helping, your saving, your listening, your hugging– it made him feel ready to speak. It is what also helped him learn his last favorite form of affection, the one mentioned above and only saved for you, the fifth–

–kissing.

One of his favorite places to kiss you is by your fireplace. You two would sit on the rug and you’d ask him to drag the coffee table to where you sat. The two of you ate dinner there sometimes, near the fire on a cold winter evening, or you used it as a place to set down your drinks and whatever game you two were playing, or to use as a resting spot for your elbows as he listened to you talk for what felt like an enchanting forever.

He never tired of your voice as you spoke about your old favorite tv shows and movies and books that he had never watched or read, listening with no interruption– as he always does– or waiting for moments to ask you questions or follow-up questions about this character or that and you’d answer with as much as your memory recalled. You’d make yourself laugh with how silly and passionate you got over these things and he would smile softly, blue eyes glowing in the firelight because he liked hearing you speak, he liked everything you had to say.

It’s moments like this when your smiles catch one another’s and your eyes lock a few seconds longer than before because there is nothing else left to place your gaze on that Daryl places his hand on yours or on your leg and you know that means he wants you closer. His hand moves to your face and his thumb gently swipes and caresses your jaw and you both stay there for a moment, looking at each other. You move in slowly and you kiss him so soft and and tender and tentatively like a princess. His princess. The one who made everything so lovely and magical to what he thought of as his weird and jagged gremlin self.

Daryl gets excited during the times you decide to initiate. It makes him feel courageous when you’re courageous. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer, taking control as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

You sigh, warmth and happiness surrounding you as you allow him to take control. Grabbing your head as gently as his rough hands would allow, he sets you on the rug, giving you pecks before looking down at you one last time, seeing the fire illuminate your face with red and orange— the colors of his heart and mind when he’s around you— and then, finally, places himself atop of you and goes back to kissing you. Once again, he slides his tongue in your mouth, wordlessly telling you how much he loves you and how much he loves this. His hands trail down from your waist to your neck as you grab his and play with his hair as you kiss into the night until your mouths are sore.

Daryl also remembers your first kiss. You were angry with him, or at least that’s what he thought. But it was more so frustration, a tinge of disappointment. You were falling for him, desperately so whether you wanted to admit it or not, but it’s so hard to fall for someone not willing to open their heart— you can only be so patient. So, uncharacteristically, at least when it came to him, you got in his face, you got loud, you told him how you felt. Not that you loved him, no, not yet. You told him he’s closed off, that you couldn’t take it anymore, that you wanted him to be honest, to be real, to just say how he felt anytime, all the time, whenever he wanted. You never took him as fearful, but still, thoughtlessly, as your faces almost touched, you asked, “What are you so afraid of, Daryl? It’s only me.”

And then, he kissed you. Because it’s not “only” you, it’s because of you. You were everything. So despite bubbling anxiety that rises in his throat, he did it, he put his lips to yours and did it accidently so much more harshly than he should have, but he did it. He was honest. He was real. Because even if he didn’t say it yet, he loved you too. You almost cried when it happened. Nothing ever felt that right. As he lets go, you have so much to say but you’re speechless. All you could do is take the chance he gave you— you kissed him back, again and again.

Another one of his favorite places to kiss is behind houses Kisses behind houses were for a quick session or during the moments he’d be leaving for a trip. Sometimes the things he had to do meant there was a possibility of him dying, and while there were times that you’d journey with him, there were other times when you were needed elsewhere whether at home or on a journey of your own. This meant goodbye kisses. Passionate but bittersweet.

These are the moments he wishes more than ever that fucked you— he means had sex with you– he’s a gentleman— the night before, just in case he didn’t come back. Most of the time he cannot even think about kids. This world is crazy, and he enjoyed his freedom far too much, but there were moments, like when he thought about how he couldn’t see life without you that he did wonder about legacy, about a domestic life with you, or, if he did die, to at least leave you with a piece of him and the love you build together. But then other times he thinks, fuck, no; he always comes back and he’d never want to leave you to do something as big as raise a child on your own– you liked your freedom too, and he liked being an uncle. Either way, it was a fleeting feeling anyhow, but it did make him feel like a gross guy sometimes. Not only because he had never spoken to you about the future yet and didn’t know what you want, but especially during the times where he thinks, damn, he should have turned you over onto your stomach last night, give you something you’d really remember him by, but truly, if one likes sex, these thoughts are that one has sometimes… no one can blame him, he’s just a 40-something-year old girl, after all.

Daryl also likes taking you into the woods for a hunt or taking you on his motorcycle to find a good place to kiss. He is obsessed with privacy. He wants to feel free to be himself. And even though he does feel like he can with the core group, the real him around them is not the same as when he is the real him around you– the one who is your boyfriend and partner, the him who can also be a romantic and sexual being when you two are alone. Almost no one knows him like that and he’s never been in a rush to share or talk about his experiences. He’s not like Rick, he feels, that kind of effortless shifting between roles Rick has about him, not afraid to be open, communicative, affectionate about different areas of his life with friends. In some ways he will always still feel new to all this romance stuff, therefore, he likes to keep it to himself. So yes, sometimes since the group thinks they all have the right to walk into each other’s houses whenever they feel like it— (Daryl is actually the main culprit of this since he has had free dinners and slept in most of their couches and basements than anyone else, but we wont talk about that now)—you have made out or had sex in quite a few different places.

Moving back to the sweeter stuff, Daryl also loves forehead kisses. Giving them and reviving them. But if he was receiving he only liked it when you two were alone. In fact, he likes any kissing only when you’re alone anyway, but especially so to any kissing or affection that look super domestic. Daryl doesn’t try to look cool, but he also doesn’t need the public to know he has more emotions and ways of nurturing that people in town don’t need to know of. He doesn’t consciously consider himself a mysterious person but, ever since most people started generally liking him and talking to him– which he equally found as both pretty nice and weird– he realized he covets the fact that there are still some people who were shy, confused, or on edge by his presence. He doesn’t totally get it and sometimes he’s confused by other people’s confusion but he likes that it means he has some sort of control. You think about how people treat him versus how he is with Rick or the kids in town, or you are hilarious. People think he’s the guy who gets it done or that he’s domineering or both, and he is those things, but he’s also just a massive teddy bear that likes caring for people while also not liking people. It's the most interesting paradox.

Lastly, here is Daryl’s favorite kiss. It was one you had given him. He said it. He finally told you. You had told him a story of how someone left you, how much it hurt, how hard it is to know you’ll never get to talk to them again, to settle things, to let go the proper way now that you’re in this new world. So, in return, to make you feel less alone and to finally get it out, he told you that sometimes Meryl only ever told him he loved him when he got hurt. He told you that it felt like Meryl picked the times that cared for him, cared for him like brother should and not just sidekick or accomplice, that it was those instances and others things that had happened to him in his past with his dad or with the group in the beginning of all of this, is what made him feel he was unlovable. So many other things came out after that and even through the shock, you could see everything he said happening to him, it made sense, and your heart broke for him.

This time, you move your hand to his, you beckon him closer. Your fingers trail down his face after placing a piece of his hair to the side, caressing his. You tell him, “I’ve never had a friend like you. I’ve never had a love like you. I love you all the time. You’re always worthy.” And with that, you seal your words with a kiss.

That was when he truly knew he liked kissing. He learned what it could actually mean and feel like when it happens with someone so perfect for you— the true peace and romance of it all. He had never experienced something more beautiful.

[reallyromealone]

Title: mate oh my mate chapter 2

Fandom: vampries knight

Characters: vampire knight cast

Fic type: fluff, angst

Pairings: Kaname. x reader, yuuki x Kaname one sided

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, Omega male reader, yuuki is angry, one sided love, reader has powers, reader can see the future and is an empath

Notes: thank you all for the support it genuinely means the world to me

Summary: things quickly spiral and Yuuki has enough and cross realizes that (name) knows more than he lets on

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Yuuki couldn't stop staring at him.

The other Omega.

(Name) Walked with a grace she couldn't even begin to emulate and a poise that made her look like a wild animal and all that made her despise the vampire prince. (Name) Barely acknowledged her, not to be rude but their paths didn't cross very often and when they did he was so fucking kind to her!

"Just because he's an Omega, suddenly he's more important than anyone else!" Yuuki ranted to Sayori who listened patiently, knowing the brunettes love/obsession for Kaname and the sudden competition was driving the poor girl into a spiral. Sayori didn't have the heart to tell her that Yuuki was never even in the race, seeing how Kaname looked at (name) the few times that she saw them... That was a love that could never be faked. "I-I just have to show him that I'm good enough! That I can be a capable wife!"

Sayori didn't say anything but let her continue until the morning bells rang, halting the girls ranting.

(Name) Politely chatted with Aido, not sitting to close to the Alpha and primarily letting the Alpha chat away while Kaname spoke with the teacher,(name) liked Aido as the blond treated him like a genuine friend which was something (name) didn't have much of due to his status. "Thankfully the day students are less crazy in the mornings since they're tired and have to be in class!" Aido cheered and (name) nodded, finding the evening switch to be quite intense and the Omega frankly didn't know what to do with so many people fawning over him.

"(Name)" Kaname called out to his mate, (name) politely saying his goodbyes to Aido before promptly walking to Kaname with an obedience that made the Alpha let out a soft rumble, happy (name) was being good for him; mostly due to the fact (name) wasn't Hungry.

"Are you ready to leave?" Kaname) asked in a whisper, kissing his mates temple and (name) closed his eyes before nodding, exhaustion hitting him in slow moving waves.

The night class never spoke about the fact Kaname and (name) shared a bed, it kept (name)s instincts at bay and calmed him considerably... None of them wanted to deal with him when he was even slightly feral.

"Then let's get to bed ,yes?"

-

"So why is (name) treated the way he is?" Zero asked his adoptive father who sighed "Zero, do you know what a feral Omega is like?" He asked the young alpha calmly, the white haired teen thought for a moment before answering "they're strong, they run in instincts and they could take down an alpha if their instincts were on high Enough alert"

"Good you pay attention in class, now take all that and put that into a vampire who struggles with reality because they're a seer and the only person who can keep them calm is a busy alpha vampire trying to keep his sibling from putting the seer Omega into a spiral" cross was rarely this serious, staring at the other calmly and Yagari blew smoke from his cigarette "(name) is incredibly dangerous but he is incredibly vital, him being here and monitored by not just the night class will keep him and everyone safe"

Zero thought about his mentor and adoptive father's words "but why keep him alive if he's so dangerous?"

"(Name) Can see the future and can predict danger with terrifying accuracy, keeping him on our side is detrimental especially as the vampire royalty has made a treaty with the hunters!" cross smiled at the teen, wanting to calm him down a bit "so, as long as he's with Kaname or calm we shouldn't have problems"

"He must be a monster" zero spat, frustrated at the Omega being treated with such a level of superiority and cross sighed before looking out the window to see (name) walking with the night class "the thing is... Hes innocent, hes... He's just terrified and why wouldn't he? Would you not be terrified if you knew what everyones intentions were towards you? To detect ones emotions and know just how powerful one could be?"

"He lives in a nightmare in his own mind and we can merely bare witness to the events"

-

He could feet the rage, the resentment and the pure acidity of jealously radiate off his sister in law, the two locking eyes and flashes of her intentions and outcomes in the future flickering in this head before it locked onto Kaname protecting him from a rod.

He felt pity for her, he knew how vampiric traditions worked and he knew typically if it was possible, she would be with Kaname but (name) outranked her due to his omegan status...

He couldn't help but feel pity for her, breaking eye contact to continue walking to the night dorms while Kaname walked a bit behind, eyeing his sister with caution and trying to figure out what her next steps were.

Yuuki glared at (name), hands shaking and she hated that she couldn't smell his pharamones due to being a beta, (name) on the other hand smelling the anger radiating off her and scrunched his nose at the smell though to Yuuki it was seen as him looking at her with disgust.

And that's all she needed, pulling out her weapon to strike him down.

She ran full speed at (name) and jumped to strike him, (name) quickly turning and stepping away and letting Kaname step before him and block her attack. Yuuki was stunned at her brother, anger flooding her body and tears filled her eyes.

"That is enough!" Kanames voice bellowed through the courtyard, causing Yuuki to shrink back at the sound and (name) to fidget, a soft whine escaping his lips. "Yuuki, you were raised better than this" his voice firm and the girl glared at her brother teary eyed "you are old enough to keep your emotions in check, these childish tantrums are unbecoming and frankling pathetic, get your act together because no one cares to entertain these delusions!" Kaname would not tolerate his sister's blatant attack and if it weren't for the dwindling numbers of pure bloods, he would have struck her down where she stood.

He loved his sister deeply but this had to end.

"Whats going on?" Cross spoke hurriedly while Yagari and Zero followed behind, trying to assess the situation "Yuuki attacked (name), well attempted!" Aido called out and Ichigo checked in on said Omega who was mumbling things with his eyes closed much to the concern of everyone but Yuuki who was confused and a bit unsettled by the Omega "Kaname, take (name) back to the dorms will you?" Cross had to have a conversation with the youngest kuran-cross.

-

Kaname held (name) close, walking him briskly to the dorms while (name) whispered things that only Kaname could hear "her hearts made of fire and Brimstone.... Her impatience will cause her to fall from the tree..." (Name)s words barely made sense but Kaname put it together enough to know a problem when he seen one. "Let's rest now, love" he ushered him up to their room where (name) looked at kanames hand and the burn mark from the weapon "her fire burned you, my love" (name)s voice grew colder, the polite tone in his voice vanishing and at that moment Yuuki Kuran was an enemy to (name).

Kaname knew it was only a matter of time before (name)s instincts caused him to lash out, he would need to satisfy the omegas base instincts to settle him before (name) caused problems for the Alpha.

Oh the double edged sword of having a hopelessly in love mate...

"None of this..." Kaname scolded (name) lovingly and pulled him into a kiss, trying to distract him from the rage that was filling the others being "behave for your alpha" (name) enjoyed the kisses, his rage subsided to soak in the attention the other was giving him "but--"

"Shh" Kaname bit his own lip, blood staining the alphas bottom lip and immediately captivating (name) who wanted a taste.

And falling for Kanames tricks like an obedient dog.

But Kaname knew (name) wouldn't forget such insolence from Yuuki, he knew the Omega had cards up his sleeves that he had yet to share with his alpha, did he know of the attack? It would explain the step back...

He would have to gently interrogate (name) once the other calmed down, knowing if he didn't get this in check that Kaname would be an only child.

-

Cross remembered when he first met (name), the tragedy of someone so sweet slowly go mad due to the powers gifted to them from generations before, it was slight things that he noticed with (name), the mood swings and jumping from fully lucid and passive to existing in almost a dreamlike existence.

And now Yuuki made an enemy of (name), an Omega who was trying to find the fox in his henhouse but not knowing he was his own fox.

For Yuukis own safety, he had to put her under house arrest, he knew this was just teen jealously and she would realize what she did but till then, (name) was to be kept far away from her.

"She's furious but she's safe" Yagari said softly, having locked her in her old bedroom "I can't believe she would do something so rash and--"" she's a scorned lover even if that loves one sided" Yagari calmed the man "only (name) would have seen it"

Which was something that made them pause.

"(Name) Would have seen this, why didn't he say anything?"

But they subconsciously knew why.

(Name) Wanted a fight.

[luvsfics]

LADY OF THE LAKE — House of the dragon

Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original character

Description: The one-eyed prince is betrothed to a Tully. A fish and a dragon, a horrid match. Perhaps, with time, the two find they fit each other well after all. A dragon rules the skies, while the fish rule the sea.

Chapter warnings: mentions of arranged marriages.

Authors note: it’s been forever since I’ve posted, let’s hope I’m not too rusty. I tried to keep on theme with the Sesame Street names and I didn’t really like ‘Abby’ for a Tully so Natasha it is!

As beautiful as the maiden herself, many said about the daughter of Elmo Tully. Long locks of auburn hair and eyes as blue as the ocean, the perfect image of effortless beauty and innocence. Yet, beauty wasn’t all that mattered to the one-eyed prince. A pretty face isn’t all he wanted in a wife. What if she was dull, or just plain dumb?

“An alliance with the Tully’s will be a great opportunity for us, Aemond.” His mother explained, her face painted with annoyance. His eyebrows furrowed, why must he suffer the same fate of a loveless marriage just like his mother and father? Many thoughts raced through his mind.

He would’ve much preferred the solace of never marrying and becoming commander of the city watch. Many women have expressed behind closed doors their distaste for the prince, how hideous his scar was, or how he would never have time for a woman with his studies and training. why would he want to condemn anyone to such a fate of being wed to the maimed prince?

Yet, sometimes, late at night, he imagines what it would be like to have a wife. Someone to hold close, someone to protect, someone to start a family with. Nothing like the marriage between his parents, he would be good to his wife unlike his father.

“It is not up to you, anyway. You will meet the girl and you will serve your part as prince of the realm.” Alicent said, huffing out a sign of anger.

His nostrils flared. Aemond stormed out of the council room where few lords sat, swiftly making his way through the halls of the castle. His head swirling with anger as he made his way to the training grounds to begin his practice for the day.

Natasha’s heart raced in fear. Many accounts of people have spoke of the second son of the king’s gruesome looks and rough attitude.

“It is a great opportunity and honor to be considered for this,” her handmaiden said as she laced up her corset. Her father had broken the news to her earlier that morning. They were preparing to set off to kings landing in before noon to reach kings landing by the morning.

She gulped. The horrid feeling of nausea flooding her stomach.

What if he didn’t think her worthy of him? What if he was the cruel man rumors say he is? What if he is ugly? Her thoughts racing around her head.

Of course, she dreamt of becoming a wife to a loving husband and mother to beautiful babies. Yet, it felt as if her world came crashing down at the thought of her betrothal to the prince of the realm.

“You will be a princess!” The young girl exclaimed with excitement as she tied the laces into a bow. Natasha let out a nervous laugh, attempting to lighten her own mood.

She prayed to all seven gods for their mercy, for she might need it in the days to come.

The roads to kings landing were long, with her brothers Oscar and Kermit’s immature mocking, singing of their sisters betrothal to the prince.

“Nattie will be a princess! All prim and proper!” Oscar exclaimed, Kermit laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

Natasha scoffed. “So hilarious, Oscar.” She rolled her eyes.

“Imagine having to marry AND bed the prince Aemond, commonly know for his horrific looks!” Kermit was almost dying of laughter as he spat out.

“Father!” Natasha turned to her side, the lord of riverrun barely listening to his children as he shoved his nose in scrolls.

“Stop tormenting your sister, boys.”

The brother’s laughter just barely died down as they whispered jokes to themselves.

Natasha shifted her gaze outside the window of the carriage, taking in the beautiful scenery of the kings road as dawn rose. Her nerves slowly returned, nausea seeping back into her stomach as they approached kings landing.

The heavy sound of gates opening made her heart stop, they were there. They were finally there.

The carriage came to a stop. “Lord Elmo Tully, Lord paramount of the trident and Lord of Riverrun and his children, Kermit, Natasha, and Oscar Tully.” The Guard announced.

Her father stepped out of the carriage to be greeted by the hand of the king, Otto Hightower. The boys went next, bowing to the Hightower lord. Lastly, Natasha.

With her beautiful grey-blue dress with sliver embroidery to represent her house, which contrasted prettily with her Mahogany colored hair and blue eyes. Fitted perfectly to her features and picked by her hand-maiden herself.

“My daughter, Natasha.” Her father gently took her hand and presented her to the hand. She gracefully curtsied, “A great pleasure, my lord hand.”

“Indeed, my lady. The Queen asked me personally to escort you all to the Godswood where she and the Prince Aemond await your arrival.” The hand said with a soft grin.

Natasha took in a breath, which was hard with how tight her handmaiden, Elissa, tied it. The hand led the family through the keep. Elissa quickly caught up to them from the other carriage, linking her arm with her lady’s.

The beautiful weirwood tree came into view as the guards opened the doors to the Godswood. Standing under it, the Queen of the seven kingdoms and the Prince Aemond with Guards and maids roam the area.

“Please, we have refreshments over there. Help yourselves.” Otto said as he made his way over to his daughter and grandson, most likely to prepare everyone for this meeting.

Elissa and Natasha stood to the side as her brothers raided the table of food and drink. “My heart feels like it might burst.” Natasha whispered.

Her back was turned to the prince, she was too frightened to meet his gaze. “It is alright, my lady. You are kind and smart and very beautiful. What isn’t there for the prince to like?” She caressed her arms.

Elissa peaked beside Natasha to look upon the prince. His sharp looks and long silver hair weren’t completely…unpleasant to look at.

“He is actually quite handsome, my lady.” Elissa smiled.

The River-lady slowly turned her head to the weirwood tree. Her eyes meet the side of the prince. His face chiseled and strong, his long silver hair pulled half-up, his Valyrian features graced her vision.

Her gaze raked over his form. His strong arms in his tunic and small waist she was almost jealous of. He looked as if he walked out of one of her romance books. A dashing knight for her to love and to hold.

Aemond’s gaze met her own. Her heart hammered in her ribcage as if she looked upon the face of a god. His own eyes widened, mimicking her own.

Through his own eyes, he felt the same. Her long, locks of red, shining in the sunlight of dawn, almost like a halo. Her striking ocean blue eyes staring into his own, and her delicate features. She was like an angel, cursed to live her life with him.

Her dress fitting her body perfectly, though he shamed himself for the those thoughts. For all have said she was beauty of the maiden herself.

“She’s quite beautiful, is she not, Aemond?” Otto asked his grandson.

“Quite.” He hummed.

[terrestrialnoob]

Danny was far to used to needles to flinch when Mr. Alfred stuck him. His stupid DNA wouldn’t stay in tact long enough for them to verify his story, so he suspected either this would knock him out and he will be taken back out to where they’d gotten him or they’re being nice and putting him out of his misery quickly. If it’s the former, then he’ll have to find another way to survive- or a nice place to die. He didn’t get a lot of time to wander around Gotham before going to the GCPD, but dying in his… original’s city would at least be thematically valid. That’s what Mr. Lancer said about Danny’s analysis of Hamlet, that his “unique interpretation was thematically valid”, meaning Danny was wrong but did the work and would get a passing grade for turning it in. At least keeping it together long enough to continue existing would be the last thing he failed to do and his teachers wouldn’t have to worry about grading his thrown-together-at-the-last-minute bullshit.

“So, basically, since the only way to get a good sample of your DNA is to stop it from degrading, this is going to be a kind of two in one solution.” The man – teen? Red Robin didn’t seem that much older than Danny but it felt wrong not to think of him as an adult or at least older. He was obviously more experienced, smarter than Danny, and had been chosen as one of Batman’s sidekicks. “If you’re B’s clone, this modified, uh, kinda virus type thing will infect your entire body and basically, like, re-instruct your DNA on what shape it’s supposed to be. You know, Batman shaped. If you’re not B’s clone, then it will... do nothing and we’ll have to come up with something else.”

Danny stared at him, then at the band-aid now on his arm where he’d just been injected. “What?”

“Yeah, it’ll probably take a few days to actually be sure it’s working and we might have to re-administer it depending on your immune system’s reaction. But, if you’re telling the truth, then we did it!” Red Robin gave a little celebratory jazz hands.

Danny stared at Red Robin, then at the band-aid again. Something dripped into his arm and Danny was suddenly aware that he was crying. He hurried to wipe his eyes with his hand, “I – sorry, I wasn’t – I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s alright. This has been stressful for you.” Danny heard Batman say and someone managed to put a tissue in his hand to clean up his face.

“I’m not going to die.” Danny didn’t even realize he was talking.

It wasn’t loud and it wasn’t clear through his shaking breath, but Batman responded anyway. “You’re not going to die.”

Danny just kind of, curled up in himself, his face completely hidden behind his legs and arms, where the heroes of Gotham couldn’t see to hopefully save at least a little of his dignity. He wasn’t going to die, he was going to keep living. He didn’t know what to do now, but he was alive! He thought he could feel it already, that the aches and pains that had been slowly growing more intense over the past few months – his entire life – were fading. He could go back home to his friends at least, tell them the truth about why he’d left, let them know he wasn’t going to be more dead than he already was, give Jazz a hug and let her know her little brother wasn’t going anywhere. The Fentons – he could talk to them when he was ready.

It took him a few minutes to get back in control of himself, but once he was able to breath without shaking he looked up again. Red Robin and the guy who’d been with regular Robin where gone. Robin was still there, staring at him from across the room, and Batman was a few feet away, working on something else.

“Master Bruce,” Mr. Alfred said, but Danny was the only one who looked at him. “I’ve prepared a guest room.” The older man then turned to look at Danny. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“Um, no?” Danny’s voice was hoarse from crying so much it made his face blush.

“I thought as such. If you’ll follow me, I’ve already prepared a small meal for you...” Mr. Alfred said with a small bow and then turned to almost fully face the back of Batman and spared a glance at Robin. “...all three of you, since the two of you left to meet with Commissioner Gordon before dinner was properly served.”

Danny cringed at having made them leave before they’d been able to eat dinner. He watched as Batman seemed to ignore Mr. Alfred, but Robin looked like he at least heard what was said.

“We’re going to-” Mr. Alfred cleared his throat making Batman stop and sigh, then he stood up from his amazing computer that Danny low key wanted to play with.

He slid the mask off his face. “We’ll be up, give us a minute to change.”

Danny tried not to stare at Batman’s bare face. He didn’t expect to see it, though he guessed he can understand why. It’d be Danny’s face eventually, but it still felt wrong. Danny was already being given so much trust; they’d brought him into their lair, weren’t being careful with names anymore, and now showing Danny this, letting him know Batman’s true identity, it was too much. But maybe- maybe Batman didn’t think the virus thing was going to work and Danny wasn’t going to live long enough to share it. Red Robin had said something like that. That they really weren’t sure their injection would work at all or that it might only work a little bit or maybe it reset the degeneration or something like that. That really made more sense than Batman trusting Danny this much. Still...

Danny followed Mr. Alfred to a small elevator that could hold two people comfortably, or four people uncomfortably. And Danny turned around to see Robin still directly glaring at him as the doors shut. There weren’t any buttons in the elevator, but it moved very fast and they were at the top in seconds. It opened to what looked to be an office with a big desk with a computer and bookshelves, but there were also two couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle – so it was like an office slash meeting room.

Mr. Alfred stepped out in front of Danny and motioned for him to follow. “This way to the dining room, I’ll be sure to give you the full tour once everyone has had dinner.”

“You really don’t have to. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” Danny said, following behind him and trying not to get distracted by where they were. It was a big house, much bigger than his home – than the house he grew up in. And the further they got, the more it looked like it might be somewhere close to what Vlad’s house was. Maybe not the Cheese Castle, but the “little” mansion he’d gotten in Amity Park.

“It’s not a waste of time.” Mr. Alfred said and they started down a big staircase. “I think it will be important for you to become familiar the manor and grounds. It’s quite easy for people to get lost here.”

Danny wanted to say it wouldn’t really matter, that he was only staying long enough to satisfy their observation of him- make sure their efforts didn't go to waste. But, the tour would mean that Danny would know where he was and wasn’t allowed to go and he’d be able to stay out of the way easier while he was there.

They soon entered a large room with a giant table in it. There were several plates set and several dishes. “I assumed you have the same allergies as Master Bruce, but are there any extra dietary needs you require? Master Damian is a vegetarian so there are already options for it.”

“Oh, no, I’ll eat whatever you give me.”

Mr. Alfred nodded and pulled out a chair for Danny. “There is roast chicken and baked marinated tofu, rosemary potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a wild rice salad with tomatoes, red onion, red bell pepper, pine nuts, and a honey-lemon dressing.”

“Thanks. This all looks great!”

“It does.” Batman said as he entered the room. He was wearing normal clothes now, just a black sweater and gray pants. Robin came in behind him, he was wearing a dark green long sleeve shirt and normal looking jeans.

Danny suddenly realized he was in the seat next to the head of the table and that was obviously where Batman sat down. Robin sat across from him, still glaring, but Danny was starting to think the other kid might just have resting bitch face and Danny would either just get used to it or see Robin so little it wouldn’t matter.

Danny must have sat frozen for a little too long there, because Mr. Alfred leaned over the table. “Here, I’ll get you started, but usually this is a serve yourself household so that everyone gets what they want and as much as they want without shame or embarrassment.”

Danny just nodded and let the man do as he pleased. It felt kind of weird, sitting at a table and eating with his… He wouldn’t have said family, but that is technically what they were, right? Danny literally had Batman’s DNA in him, and Robin had called the man Father with a capital F, so that kind of made them brothers? Cousins? Uncle and nephew? Or father and- Danny cut that line of thought and grabbed the nearest eating utensil to focus on eating instead.

“Holy shit, this is good.” Danny said before he realized he’d said it. He looked at Batman. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to swear.”

Batman shrugged it off with a smile, “It is good food. I often forget how spoiled I am with good food.”

Mr. Alfred hummed at that and, Danny felt more than saw, an exchange of looks between the two older men. Mr. Alfred probably deserved more appreciation for cooking like this and Batman didn’t think he needed to vocalize the appreciation, that it was simply understood he loved Mr. Alfred and all the work he did.

“So, you eat meat?” Robin asked. He seemed a little off-put by Danny taking some of the chicken after getting some of the tofu.

Danny shrugged. “I mean, I’ll eat anything that doesn’t attack me.”

Robin narrowed his eyes. “So should I attack you so you don’t eat me?”

“What? I’m not cannibal? What?” Danny said and looked between the other people in the room. Batman looked exasperated and Mr. Alfred looked half amused at Robin and half offended on Danny’s behalf.

“Then why do you need to specify that you prefer your food doesn’t attack you?”

“Because I... don’t most people prefer food that you don’t have to kill first?”

Robin gave him a sardonic look. “You have to kill all meat before you eat it.”

Danny shook his head, “No, I mean like – when you eat it. Like, you sit down to eat and then the hot dogs grow mouths and teeth and attack you so you have to kill it before you eat it.”

Robin’s glare turned into a shocked stare, and Batman and Mr. Alfred joined in staring at him. “What?”

“What do you mean “what?”?” Robin was annoyed at him. “Hot dogs do not come to life and attack people.”

Oh fuck. He’s ruined it. He doesn’t know what he’s ruined, but he’s too weird for The Batman. Danny started shoveling food into his mouth so he’d stop talking and freaking out Batman.

“How does that happen?” Batman asked and there goes Danny’s hope of being less weird.

Danny swallowed and waved his free hand around a little bit. “I – it’s just that my- the people I lived with before weren’t very good at keeping their specimens quarantined, and they also liked to experiment with food. So, just, sometimes the hot dogs or a turkey or other foods would just, come to life and we’d have to kill them.”

There was a beat of silence before Mr. Alfred asked, “And did you eat this experimental food?”

Danny half shrugged, “There wasn’t really anything else to eat, so yeah.”

Mr. Alfred hummed and it sounded like he might be worried. “I can assure you that nothing like that has ever happened here.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.” Danny said and, again, tried to eat his way out of the conversation. But it was too awkward. “But, Mr. Alfred, your food is way better than any of that stuff.”

“I would hope so.” Mr. Alfred said. “And feel free to take as much as you want, we have plenty.”

Danny hadn’t even noticed he’d cleaned his plate already. He was about to refuse, but the look on Mr. Alfred’s face made it feel like it would insult the man if Danny didn’t get seconds. So he did.

“What are their names?” Batman suddenly asked.

Danny glanced at him. “Who’s names?”

“You’re… creators.”

The one question Danny hated above all others; ever since he was a little kid who realized that his parents were the town weirdos and that their status as the town weirdos had spread to Danny before he even knew how to walk. He felt the unfortunately familiar mix of the heat from embarrassment and cold from the rejection experience made him know was coming. He wanted to look anywhere but at someone. “Why do you want to know?”

“They made a clone of Father.” Robin said with disdain, and yeah, Danny should have known that. He knows how much it hurts to be cloned. “What if they try again?”

Danny tried to sound as matter of fact as possible. “The Fentons, Jack and Maddie. They’re married to each other. And yeah, they do want to try again, but they used up all their Batman DNA making me.”

“They want to make another one?” Robin was somehow even more annoyed.

“Well, I mean, their first one was such a failure…” Danny half mumbled then sighed and added. "It’s why they want to autopsy me. So they don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

Danny spared a glance. Now Batman was glaring and Danny couldn’t blame him. He doesn’t know how widespread the Fenton name is, but if anyone knows them, it’s not because of how caring, thoughtful, or altruistic they are. And here Danny was, his very existence a violation so deep he wouldn’t blame Batman if he kicked Danny out right that second.

So Danny decided to give the man the opportunity to do that. “How long is the observation?”

Batman’s face quickly changed from angry to confused, so Danny reiterated. “You know, for the kinda virus thing? How long do do you want me here under observation?”

Batman still looked a little confused but went along with the change in topic. “It should take somewhere between two days and two weeks to be certain of it’s effects.”

Danny nodded. “That’s the range they estimated it would have taken for me to completely destabilize, so I can go back once it’s confirmed.”

“Go back?” Batman seemed more confused.

And that made Danny confused. “It’s not like I can stay here forever.”

Batman frowned at that, but Robin spoke first. “You want to go back to the people who want to autopsy you?”

“It’s either them or that guy I told you about earlier.” Danny said and indicated to Batman cause he thinks Robin might have been too far away to hear that part in the cave. "And it's not like they actively try to kill me - I mean, well, usually anyway. It's more of a -if I just so happen to die- type thing."

“Why not stay here?” Batman asked.

Danny couldn’t help the look on his face. Stay here? With Batman? The man he’s been secretly measured against his whole life? The person he’s failed to be time and time again? Danny’s not sure he could take that. “No, you don’t want me here.”

“Should you let us decide that?” Batman gave Danny a pointed look.

Danny shouldn’t answer that. He knows they wont want him. No one wants him. Even Vlad; he doesn’t really want Danny, he wants Maddie’s Son, he wants to steal Jack’s Son, he wants The Other Halfa. Danny knows that he’s just going to burden Batman and his family and the other vigilantes. But he’s not going to say that. He knows better than to argue about where he belongs.

What are you? A ghost trying to fit in with humans or some creepy little boy with creepy little powers?

So Danny folded immediately. “Sorry, you’re right. You get to decide who does and doesn’t get to stay in your house.”

Danny was looking at his mostly empty plate and didn’t see that statement earn him a frown from everyone else in the room.

Danny sighed and glanced over to Mr. Alfred. “I know you said you wanted to show me around, but I’m really tired. Can I just go to bed?”

“Of course.” Mr. Alfred said and motioned for Danny to follow him.

Danny didn’t talk, though Mr. Alfred gave him general direction on how to get from the dining room to the bedrooms, pointed out whose rooms were whose, let Danny know he had an en suite and a dresser full of clothes the other boys didn’t wear anymore. Danny hadn’t realized that Batman had such a big family and he wondered how they would feel after learning that Danny existed. He doubted any of them would accept him. He could hope one of them might want to be his friend, but he knows who he is, what he is. He wont hold any of their feelings against them.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

I have an idea! Reader and James have to share a bed. They have no problem with it but they didn't know that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves (not in a sexual way) but they could wake up in the middle of the night finding the other one cuddled up to them haha ​​something sweet and tender

just friends..? totally

james potter x reader where you both share a bed and oh..what? why are you cuddling?

↬ word count : 452 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : fluff overload, mutual pining but they’re oblivious, just friends (but are they?)

↬ author's note : thank you so much for requesting this! i had so much fun writing it—james being a sleepy cuddlebug is my weakness <3

navigation┆ james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. James had been utterly convincing, saying, “Angel, it’s just one night, yeah? I’ll even give you the good pillow.” He grinned as he tossed the fluffiest pillow onto the bed.

And really, sharing a bed with James Potter didn’t sound like a bad deal. He was warm, smelled like something fresh and woodsy, and had a knack for making you feel completely at ease. You were just friends, after all. What could go wrong?

The answer, apparently, was everything.

You’d fallen asleep easily enough, facing opposite sides of the bed. But by the time the first rays of dawn were filtering through the curtains, the peaceful arrangement had turned into something else entirely.

Your eyes fluttered open, and there he was. James Potter, Quidditch star, Marauder extraordinaire, and general menace, was tucked against your side, his arm thrown across your waist as if it had always belonged there. His face was smushed into your shoulder and his hair an even bigger mess than usual.

The kicker? You weren’t much better. Your own arm was tangled in his messy curls, your fingers lazily brushing his scalp as if in a half-conscious daze. It was… comfortable. Too comfortable.

James stirred, mumbling something incoherent. His eyes opened slightly, squinting at you. His face softened into a dopey smile. “Mornin’, angel,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You froze. “James,” you whispered urgently, “what are you doing?”

“Dunno,” he muttered, burying his face back into your shoulder. “You’re really warm, though.”

Before you could argue—or even process the fact that he was still calling you angel—the curtains opened.

“What on Earth is this?!” Sirius's voice rang out, dripping with theatrical disbelief.

You bolted upright—or tried to. James didn’t budge, clinging to you like a human octopus.

“Are we interrupting something?” Remus asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, his lips twitching with amusement.

Peter, standing behind the two, blinked at the scene and muttered, “I knew it. Always thought you two were… cozy.”

You were pretty sure your face was on fire. “We’re not— It’s not—!”

“Oh, obviously not,” Sirius interrupted, his smirk widening. “This is just how all ‘just friends’ sleep. Isn’t that right, Prongs?”

James finally stirred, glancing blearily at the others. Instead of moving away, though, he just tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What’re you lot doing in here? S’early.”

“It’s noon, James,” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius pointed at the two of you. “We’re here because this is the best thing I’ve seen all week. You two are disgustingly adorable. Also, doll, you have terrible taste.”

“I don’t even—” you spluttered.

James, still blissfully unbothered, just shrugged, giving you a lazy grin. “C’mon, angel. Tell them how much you secretly adore me.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!”

The room erupted in laughter, Sirius and Peter doubling over while Remus shook his head fondly. James eventually let go, but not before giving your waist a cheeky squeeze and murmuring, “You’re pretty cuddly, y’know.”

You threw a pillow at his face.

And despite the teasing, the laughter, and the absolute mortification, you couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest.

Just friends, huh?

[daisiescomelate]

Shiny trinkets

Prompt: Recently, everytime Sylus gets a new loot and he sees something he finds pretty or interesting in it he takes it with him to gift it to you.

Content: Love & Deepspace, Sylus/Reader.

masterlist

It was close to eleven at night and you were getting ready to go to bed. The day had been busy and your skin still buzzed with the adrenaline of being assigned to take care of a crescent threat in the N102 Zone. You were ready for a good night of sleep when you heard the sound of someone knocking at your door.

You were tired and confused, wondering who it might be that came to knock so late at night. Dragging your feet across the living room, you half cursed under your breath to the person that might be at the other side, wondering what it could be that couldn't wait until the following morning.

You opened the door with a click, rubbing the sleep out of one of your eyes with your free hand. The chest of someone came right into view dressed in a dark shirt and a black leather jacket. You tilted your head upwards and it wasn't until then that your brain –slow as it was after a day like that– finally came to recognize the person in front of you.

“Hello, kitten.”

You stood there silently for a second, your neurons trying to light up some reaction.

“Sylus, what are you–?”

He lifted something so it would be at the height of your nose before you could complete your question.

“I came bearing gifts.” He said, and his motion made you take a step back into the apartment out of instinct to avoid a hit to the face. Sylus took advantage of it and gave a step in, letting himself right through the door into your living room.

He closed the door behind himself and put in his signature smirk when he saw you frown. His eyes lit up with mischief then, but whatever he might have been about to say or do he seemed to might have thought about it better because that light flew away.

“What,” you said pointedly while moving the box he had lifted away from your face, “are you doing here? It's too late for games, I'm tired.”

“Sorry to bother you, kitten. But you know how I work odd hours, and I have been waiting for the opportunity to bring this to you.”

He motioned to the box, shaking it slightly. It made a tinkling sound and you looked at it with suspicion. Sylus let out a puff of air, laughing shortly at your expression.

“It's nothing to be worried about, just some tokens of my appreciation.” With that he moved further into the house, walking to stay at the side of the dinning table, carefully placing the box over the tablecloth.

He opened the lid and left it to the side. You looked at every one of his movements with growing curiosity and he seemed to notice. He put his slender fingers into the box, almost playfully slow and smiled at the way you slowly bent closer to be able to look from your place next to the door. 

He moved around the things inside, then decided for one and pulled it out, holding the object between two of his fingers. You choked.

In his hands he carried what seemed to be a pearl necklace that shined pink and blue to the lights of the apartment. 

“Is that—?”

“My most recent loot,” he said, a knowing smile on his face.

“Your most recent–”, you greeted your teeth and counted to ten a few times, then, you tried again. “How many times I must tell you not to bring your stolen items to me?”

“Don’t worry about the last owner, they probably stole it from someone else. So take it with a clean conscience.” He said with his hand inside the box, once again reaching out for another piece of jewelry.

“Sylus!” You said, stepping on firmly against the floor as a sign for your resolution, “You can’t keep doing this. The association is actively looking for this kind of stuff and they end up laying in a drawer in my apartment!”

Sylus had his sight focus in the items inside the box. He seemed to be particularly looking for something. Without taking his eyes away from the gemstones and pearls, he answered you,

“I know it probably makes you nervous, but you have to understand,” he seemed to have found what he was looking for, something shiny and small he flicked in the air with his thumb, “I couldn’t stop imagining how lovely all of this would look on you.”

“You keep making excuses for yourself.” You said crossing your arms. To show doubt was to lose when it came to Sylus.

“If you think I’m lying, look.” He flickered his thumb one more time and between his fingers there was a flash of gold. He reached out with his other hand, and softly pulled one of your hands from your chest. He cared for your knuckles with his thumb, slowly pulling your hand upwards to plat a kiss over the bruised skin from battle.

“This type of thing, so masterfully crafted, belongs with you,” he said, moving his other hand over yours. There was the feeling of something small and cold wrapping around one of your fingers. When he let go, you saw the golden band of a ring on your fourth finger decorated with emerald and diamonds. “See? It fits perfectly.”

You suddenly felt the rush of blood over your cheeks and stuttered at the sight of it. “I– I–” You couldn’t bring yourself to form a coherent sentence.

“You think the same as I do, don’t you?” He laughed, “But in case these are still not to your liking, I should be able to bring some more to you next time too.”

[ally1uvsu]

Way better than drugs. | Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

Summary; Maybe it’s on purpose that Nam-gyu looks too fucking handsome for his own good, maybe it’s involuntary how he’s so touchy with Thanos and can’t keep his hands to himself, or maybe Thanos is just insane for wanting to fuck his closest friend in this hell of a game, while everyone is asleep.

Info; cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, shameless smut, trans!nam-gyu, bottom!nam-gyu, top!thanos, dirty talking, p in v sex, public sex, voyuerism, wet dreams, drugs, hickeys, nam-gyu with a praise kink, name calling, face riding, clit pinching, messy and sloppy kissing, pulling out method.. don’t trust it guys, missionary, petnames, Nam-gyu whimpers and whines idc, tit sucking, Thanos is a thighs guy, overall just real fucking shameless smut, again 😭.

Notes; one of my first smuts without them being bots, I hope y’all like it 🙏 lmk if I need to change/improve anything, ALSO PLS DON’T HATE I’LL ACTUALLY CRY 💀.. AND TELL ME WHY I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS SINCE LIKE 9AM.. but it’s fine cuz trust, this is a deleted scene from the show.

Thanos swore he was bound to lose his fucking mind.

No, not because of the games, because of his drugs he could handle them. But because of a certain raven haired man whom Thanos became friends with. At first, Thanos brushed off how he was so touchy, how he always wanted to be near him. But.. it all started during that pentathlon game, when Nam-gyu first took one of his drugs and was cheering for some team, Thanos seriously couldn’t help but admire him. He had beautiful features, his smile was enough to make his heart actually falter as cheesy as it is.

Thanos brushed it off as some sort of adrenaline at the time, but it kept nagging him on even after they went. His gaze was locked onto Nam-gyu, he noticed how he made sweater paws and didn’t like really touching shit with his hands, it was endearing. And Thanos made sure to make a mental note about that- since hell, he’s been making a lot.

Thanos’ own enemy was his mind, he knew it very well. So while eating, his mind wandered around while the little group he formed chatted. It seemed like his subconscious wasn’t happy with normal scenarios of Nam-gyu, without even noticing, his mind began formulating pictures of the other in the dirtiest and yet most breathtaking, positions.

Maybe it’s on purpose that Nam-gyu looks too fucking handsome for his own good, maybe it’s involuntary how he’s so touchy with Thanos and can’t keep his hands to himself, or maybe Thanos is just insane for wanting to fuck his closest friend in this hell of a game, while everyone is asleep. Thanos would be lying if he said it didn’t piss him the fuck off, it was as if Nam-gyu was doing it on purpose, challenging him, daring him to do anything. Nam-gyu was riling Thanos up without even trying or knowing.

But Thanos sadly couldn’t act on it, what would be his excuse if he dragged Nam-gyu to a bathroom? Well, not like he thought the other would question him much over it but still. He would have to deal with his brain creating these scenarios until he got out of this place.

His mind seemed to be nagging him even in his sleep, he tossed and turned without even knowing, meanwhile he was having the dream of his life. Nam-gyu under him, moaning, and then- he woke up. He was fucking pissed, who the hell would be waking him up from such a heavenly dream in the middle of the night?

He groaned as he turned to the side, only to find Nam-gyu with his head looking down to him from his bunk on top. Well, at least it was who he liked. "I can’t sleep." Nam-gyu said and Thanos snorted, he really just needed to go back to that dream. "And what do i have to do with that?"

Nam-gyu sighed, shaking his head. "Give me one more, I can’t sleep for the life of me." Thanos paused, well, he could. But he was saving the drugs for any other rounds or things that could happen later. "I already gave you two today, hell no."

Nam-gyu furrowed his brows, it was true, but one more couldn’t possibly hurt, right? "Please, man. I swear I’ll leave you alone after this." Thanos sighed, but then, an idea clicked on his head the second he heard Nam-gyu grunt and move to push himself back up. "Wait."

Thanos said as he motioned for Nam-gyu to get down, and he heard the soft thud of his feet hitting the floor as he stood in front of Thanos’ bunk. The purple haired man grinned, opening the locket and putting a pill on his tongue. He saw Nam-gyu furrow his brows, again. He found that habit of his weirdly cute.

"Are you going to give it to me or not?" Thanos swore he could feel his heart thudding with excitement. "Come and get it."

Nam-gyu froze, was Thanos serious or just high? "You mean in your?.." he said with evident shock, and Thanos nodded. Nam-gyu scoffed, he needed the stupid pill anyways. "Whatever, fucking idiot." He mumbled as he kneeled down in front of Thanos, going in for a kiss.

Thanos was practically electrified inside when he felt the lips he had been craving so much press against his, he grinned against the other’s lips and pushed the pill that had already been dissolving in his tongue into Nam-gyu’s own, and yet to his surprise, Nam-gyu didn’t break apart the kiss like he expected him to.

Thanos swore he was having another wet dream about Nam-gyu. He wasn’t.

So, who was he to break it first? His hands made quick use of themselves and reached for his hips to pull him closer, having the raven haired one practically sit on one of his thighs, his own spread to sit on his. And Nam-gyu didn’t pull himself away or break the kiss, so Thanos just got a whole confirmation. He felt a hand tangle in his hair, tugging his head back and Thanos groaned as the kiss was broken.

"Asshole, all this work just to kiss me. You really need to get creative." Nam-gyu said, deadpanning. Thanos simply chuckled, not really paying any mind. What really mattered to him was that Nam-gyu kissed him. "I got the kiss, didn’t I?" Thanos said teasingly, and he swore he could see the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks even in the darkness of the room.

But Thanos was too focused on chasing Nam-gyu’s lips to pry any further. He kissed him again, it was messy, sloppy even. But it wasn’t like Thanos could hold himself back, he has been craving it.

Thanos slipped a hand under Nam-gyu’s shirt, and he could feel him shudder. Thanos’ hands were warm, warm and surprisingly comforting over his cold skin. He could feel it caressing his skin, he wanted- no, he needed more. Taking advantage of how he was situated on Thanos’ thigh, Nam-gyu slowly rocked his hips forward, giving himself some friction where he craved the most, making him moan against Thanos’ lips.

The kiss was broken again, this time, he was met with a teasing smirk from Thanos as he tried to catch his breath, panting quietly. "Nam-s-" "It’s Nam-gyu." He interrupted before Thanos could even get his name wrong, this bastard knew his name but still preferred to call him by the wrong fucking name. "Whatever." Was the reply he got, but the silence didn’t last long before he felt a hand in his own hair, tugging his head back. "You’ll have to be real quiet, do whatever you want to shut yourself up."

Nam-gyu would have nodded in another case scenario, but his head was being held back as he felt Thanos’ lips go from his jaw to his neck, biting, fuck, sucking. His lips were so fucking soft, it made Nam-gyu’s mind fog up. He gripped his shoulders as he kept that same pace, grinding against Thanos’ thigh until he lost his patience and began speeding up.

Thanos just let Nam-gyu be, focused on his neck, really. Nam-gyu’s skin was lighter than his, when he pulled back a bit, he found that Nam-gyu was light enough that his skin almost effortlessly got marked, little red circles appearing where he sucked, even if not hard. He would definitely take advantage of this, being the shitty asshole he was.

Thanos took his sweet time to suck two hickeys into Nam-gyu’s neck, until they became purple. A plus was how Nam-gyu’s breath was ragged, how he rubbed himself against his thigh. Thanos’ only question was why wasn’t Nam-gyu hard, did he do something wrong? Both of his hands stilled the other’s hips, earning a whine from it. Thanos’ lips parted, he figured he wanted more of those.

"Asshole, why’d you stop?" Nam-gyu said with a frown, and Thanos wasn’t entirely sure how to put this. "Are you sure you want this?"

The question threw Nam-gyu overboard, of course he did! Jesus, he could feel his underwear stick to his cunt, he could feel it actually fucking throb to the point it hurt just from how badly he wanted it. It took him a bit to realize why Thanos was asking him that, and then his brain finally processed it, he was grinding against Thanos previously. Thanos who didn’t know he’s transgender.

But hell, he needed this. He just crossed his fingers and hoped Thanos wouldn’t judge. A good part of him knew he wouldn’t, for fucks sake he was kissing a guy. But the other small part of him insisted in nagging him.

"I’ll fucking punch you if you mock me for this." Nam-gyu threatened, but the shakiness in his voice when he initially spoke was easily heard, and his words didn’t have his usual confidence and bite to them. "Jeez, you oughta relax, Nam-su." Thanos said as he raised his hands up in the air, and Nam-gyu simply glared at him for that stupid name, but he didn’t have the patience to correct Thanos, not now, anyways.

Nam-gyu took a shuddering sigh, he felt nervous. But he spoke either way, he would need to speak if he wanted this. "I uh.. I’m trans. And I don’t have any surgeries because you know, I’m here for a reason."

Oh.

So that was the reason? Well, at least he knew Nam-gyu didn’t have a boner because of something that didn’t involve arousal, he took it surprisingly well- it was still Nam-gyu, the same Nam-gyu who was infuriatingly handsome. "Oh, okay." Thanos shrugged, and Nam-gyu seemed taken aback, he really didn’t care? "Still want you on my dick." Thanos said bluntly, and Nam-gyu didn’t even have time to blush before another kiss was initiated.

It was the same sloppy kiss from before, except this time, before Nam-gyu could even grind against him, Thanos had him beneath himself with a surprising ease. His hands were halfway down his pants and already onto the waistband of his underwear before Thanos broke the kiss to stare into Nam-gyu’s eyes, a silent ask for consent. Thanos wasn’t an asshole, afterall.

Nam-gyu nodded, sucking in a breath. "Hurry the fuck up.." he mumbled, and he didn’t have to ask for it any further before he felt Thanos’ hand sneak down and past his underwear, one of his fingers tapping his clit, enough to make him shudder.

"Jesus, you’re already so fuckin’ wet, bet you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?" Thanos mocked, and Nam-gyu only did as much as utter a curse under his breath. Circling the other man’s clit with his thumb as he wasted no time in sliding his ring finger in, pumping it in and out slowly at first with a shit eating grin in his face Nam-gyu chose to ignore, because hell, it felt good.

Thanos couldn’t help but let out a groan himself as he eyed Nam-gyu’s neck, he was so fucking easy to leave marks on, Thanos decided that he should take the most advantage of it as he could. He dove back in, biting and sucking into his neck as he slid another finger, lazily pumping them in and out of his cunt.

"D-dickhead, go fucking faster." Nam-gyu stuttered our slightly, he hated himself for being so fucking needy right now. "Wow, I’m hurt, sweetheart." Thanos said before his fingers picked up the speed, earning moans that were music to his ears, but he couldn’t let anyone else hear them. One, they’d probably get in trouble, two, Nam-gyu’s sweet, sweet noises were for his ears only.

So, using his free hand, he put a palm over Nam-gyu’s mouth so he could moan as much as he could, muffling those sounds enough, at least in Thanos’ brain. He could feel Nam-gyu clench around his digits, hell, if he felt this good around his fingers, imagine around his dick?

Nam-gyu moaned, his mind was foggy and spinning, even. He couldn’t stop his moans, they came our involuntarily because it felt too fucking good. Thanos had long and slim fingers, and he knew how to make him feel extremely good around them. And god, the way his mouth sucked hickeys in all the right fucking spots had him floating to another universe. It had been a while since.. he had done this, not that he really ever had sex, he wasn’t one with a huge sex drive. So it was safe to assume this was the best fuck of his life so far.

"I can feel you fucking clench around my fingers like you don’t ever wanna let me go," Thanos murmured against Nam-gyu’s neck, pulling back to observe his handiwork, purple and red hickeys littered his neck and down to the joint of his neck and shoulders, followed by marks of his teeth. "And you look so handsome around them too, hell, if I had a camera I’d take a picture of you and keep it just so I could stare at your face all scrunched up in pleasure when I jerk off."

Nam-gyu fucking clenched around his fingers hard at his words, he was so fucking close. His words uselessly jumbling up against one another, only distinctive phrases like 'i’m close’ and ‘don’t stop’ could be made out of that mess.

Nam-gyu felt like his brain melted for the time being, everything felt like it was spinning and he couldn’t take his mind off how good Thanos’ fingers felt, and then just as he was about to cum, Thanos stopped.

"Hey!- why the fuck did you stop?!" Nam-gyu whisper yelled as he propped himself up on his elbows, only to be met with the sight of Thanos fucking smirking while he cleaned his fingers with.. his mouth. Nam-gyu’s lips parted, it was an erotic fucking sight, but he was still pissed. "Jeez, relax. Be patient." Thanos said once he got his fingers out of his mouth, kissing Nam-gyu’s lips briefly before trailing down until he reached his shirt. "I wouldn’t let you go without getting a taste."

And then Thanos reached for the hem of Nam-gyu’s shirt, they were both fucking lucky their bunks were right in the very back of the room, and plus, the guards didn’t give two fucks about them fucking, well.. probably didn’t. Again, Nam-gyu nodded and Thanos made quick work of getting his shirt off, kissing his collarbone before mumbling; "You can keep this on, I don’t mind."

“You can take it off.” Nam-gyu said after a few seconds, and neither one of them mentioned too much about it. Nam-gyu let out a sigh as he took off his binder with the help of the other, sighing as he felt his breathing definitely ease. And Thanos also made quick work to get his pants off, tugging them down hastily along with his underwear until they pooled around Nam-gyu’s ankles.

The sight made Thanos’ mouth go fucking dry, even in the dark, he could make out how Nam-gyu looked. He was lean, had a considerable amount of muscle, but what called his attention were his thighs, they looked plush, comfortable. But he decided to take his sweet time with this.

He pressed kisses down to Nam-gyu’s chest, wrapping his lips around a nipple while his thumb rolled the other, the whimpers that fell from Nam-gyu’s mouth only spurring him on.

He trailed kisses until he had his face between Nam-gyu’s thighs, breath fanning over his cunt in a way that had Nam-gyu shuddering. Thanos placed a kiss on one of his inner thighs, biting it softly and earning a whimper. Thanos didn’t take much longer to wrap both of his arms around Nam-gyu’s thighs to keep them apart, burying his face in his cunt.

The taste of his arousal was dizzying, Thanos groaned as he licked a stripe up his slit, eyeing Nam-gyu who clasped both hands over his mouth, shutting his eyes. The taste burst into his mouth, god, it was addicting. He wrapped his mouth around his clit, sucking on it as he let out quiet groans, muffled by the skin. God, he was eating Nam-gyu like he was and had been starving, like he was the best meal he could find out here. And Thanos swore he could do this for fucking hours.

He moved his mouth to his entrance, his thrusting his tongue as he tried his best to keep Nam-gyu still as his hips bucked.

Nam-gyu, meanwhile, was on cloud nine. His mind was hazy, and he felt so fucking good. Thanos’ mouth was on him, his hands were on him. It was addictive, making his brain become putty. The way his thumb pressed and rolled his clit, shit, Nam-gyu was going to lose his shit.

One of his hands tangled into Thanos’ hair, pressing his face closer, hips moving onto their own accord as he rode his face, head thrown back as he felt Thanos double his efforts. "Shit, oh my fucking- yes.. oh fuck," were what could be made out, well, he had long given up on staying quiet, he was just making half assed attempts to stay quiet.

Nam-gyu let his eyes flutter shut as he felt the coil in his belly, head thrown back as he began getting increasingly more sensitive, his moans became more like whines, rising in pitch every time he felt Thanos do any movement, really. "Thanos, fuck, I’m going to cum." Nam-gyu warned, breathless as he did so. And he earned a grunt of approval from him, and then, with one final brush on his clit, he came.

Fuck, he had to hold back a scream just from how intense it all felt. His back arched slightly, his thighs trembled and he still could feel Thanos’ hands on him, holding him as still as he could as his orgasm crashed over him.

Thanos kept up his work as Nam-gyu came, dedicated to catch every single drop, he was addicted to how Nam-gyu tasted. Only when he was sure that Nam-gyu finally came down from his high that Thanos straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning in for another kiss, letting Nam-gyu taste himself in his lips. "You’re so fucking hot" He said, something Nam-gyu couldn’t quite catch because it was in English, but then again he just assumed it was something good.

He pulled back seconds after, a smirk coming to his face, "I might as well keep you, Jesus, you’re so addicting I could eat you like this for hours." He then leaned in to whisper on Nam-gyu’s ear; "I’ll even dare to say, you relax me more than those drugs, could get high while eating you out."

Nam-gyu wasn’t entirely sure on how Thanos could speak so dirtily and also say the sweetest things, but seriously, even if he didn’t know how to reply, he liked it. Both of his hands cupped his cheeks as he pulled him in for another kiss, Nam-gyu was addicted to Thanos’ lips just as he wss to how he tasted.

While at it, Nam-gyu brushed his knee against Thanos’ crotch, or what he assumed to be it. Earning a hiss from Thanos against his lips that he greedily drank. He was definitely hard, that he could tell. Perhaps even painfully so.

"Shit, you’ll maybe me lose my fucking mind, baby." Thanos said as the kiss broke, tugging his sweatpants down along with his boxers. "Kind of the point." Nam-gyu said back, from where he was lying, he could definitely make out how Thanos’ dick looked, and fuck, he was considerably big. "You might as well rip me in half." Nam-gyu mumbled out what was supposed to be an internal thought, and Thanos chuckled. "I’ll make it fit and make you feel good, just relax and keep calm." Again with that stupid English in the, but this time, Nam-gyu caught onto what he had said, something about him staying calm. And Nam-gyu nodded.

Thanos jerked himself once, twice, before rubbing his cock between the slick folds of the other’s cunt, gathering as much lubricant as he could. After coating it in a considerable amount, he rubbed the tip against his entrance and pushed in, and shit, they both saw stars.

Nam-gyu had to hold back a loud moan as he felt Thanos’ tip slide in, instead, a whimper came out. It had been a while since he last took someone, and Thanos was big and had a good girth. He took a deep breath as he bit onto his palm, feeling Thanos slowly slide in. Giving shallow thrusts to bottom out, his groans made his stomach fucking flutter, he could cum from the sounds alone again.

"Holy shit.. you’re so fucking big," he breathed out, closing his eyes. And Thanos opened his own that had been closed.

The sight, albeit obscured, was an erotic one. One that made Thanos’ mouth go dry. He was barely halfway in and Nam-gyu looked completely drunk on his cock, his eyes closed, already sweating with some hair sticking to his face while the rest fell into a small mess on the pillow beneath his head. His neck had vivid hickeys that bloomed there, in different shades. His thighs spread apart and fuck, his pussy weakly fluttering around him as it fought to accommodate him. "I can cum from this fucking sight alone, Jesus Christ, you’re fucking handsome." Thanos said, technically star-struck.

Nam-gyu let out a shuddering sigh, the words of praise made him melt, made him involuntarily clench around Thanos, he liked being praise despite degrading others, and Thanos had noticed, he would definitely use it to his pleasure later.

Nam-gyu only opened his eyes again when he felt his ass press flush against Thanos’ hips, he felt stuffed so full of his dick, he swore he could feel Thanos all the way up in his throat. Not that he was complaining, if anything, he found it fucking hot.

"You’re so fucking tight, how long has it been since you last done this?" Thanos said as he gripped Nam-gyu’s hips, looking at him to see if he could finally move.

"Shit.. I don’t know, maybe five months?" Nam-gyu managed out, nodding at Thanos rather than using his own words. He bit down on his bottom lip as he felt Thanos finally move, slow and deep. A moan would leave his lips every time he thrusted back in, the feeling was nothing short of heavenly.

"Fucking.. oh my fucking god I can feel you all the way up in my guts.. shit!" Nam-gyu moaned, eyes half-lidded, his hands moved to hold firmly onto Thanos’ shoulders, staring into his eyes as the other man let out low groans "fuck, go faster, I’ll lose my fucking mind if you don’t" he nearly begged, shit, as demanding as he sounded, the desperation in his voice was unmistakable.

Thanos gripped Nam-gyu’s thighs firmly, he was sure he would leave marks but who fucking cared? Only Thanos would see those anyways. "You’re so fucking impatient, but who am I to deny such a handsome guy my dick?" Thanos tilted his head before he changed his pace from slow and deep to hard and fast, the sudden change in pace having Nam-gyu’s eyes rolling back, scratching Thanos’ back from pleasure.

"Ah.. fuck, shit! This feels so fuckin’.. good, Than-" he was cut off before he could even say the name, this time, Thanos was the one correcting Nam-gyu. "Su-bong."

Nam-gyu swore he could cum from the tone of voice alone, Thanos’ voice was strained, almost as if he was holding back sounds. Unlike Nam-gyu who had long given up on doing so. He felt Thanos lean against him, mouth pressing open kisses around one of his boobs before wrapping around his nipple one again, pace never faltering for once.

"Shit.. you look so beautiful like this, moaning like you’re being pounded into oblivion, which you are, just so the others can hear you." Thanos murmured, chuckling. "You going to cum on my cock, hm?" And Nam-gyu nodded, clenching around him at the praise.

"Fucking hell- oh, shit.. yes I’ll- mm.. cum on your cock, s-su-bong." Nam-gyu whined, closing his eyes as he tried to calm down the intense feeling that seemed to want to consume him whole.

"Good boy, doing so well for me.. taking me so well, go on, cum on my dick like the handsome man you are." Thanos said as one of his hands reached for Nam-gyu’s clit, rubbing it with two fingers and pinching it.

Nam-gyu was in fucking ecstasy, all he would make out was Thanos, all he could say was Thanos’ name, he was so close- he moaned loudly, muffled by a kiss, a sloppy and wet one, when he felt Thanos pinch his clit and rub it. He was so close to just fucking tipping over the edge.. and then the kiss broke, and Nam-gyu was a moaning mess.

Thanos let out a grunt, head ducked down as he focused on just pounding into the man below him. "Shit.. Nam-gyu, come on, cum on my dick." And Nam-gyu froze when he heard Thanos call him by his name correctly, he wasn’t supposed to feel as aroused as he did, but he couldn’t help himself when he gushed around Thanos’ dick just from having his name said correctly "shit, shitshitshit.. Su-bong, Su-bong I’m-" was what he chanted, calling Thanos’ name as if he was some kind of angel, like he was praying to him.

Nam-gyu was too fucked out to make out anything, head thrown back while Thanos had his free hand over Nam-gyu’s mouth so he wouldn’t wake up everyone. He felt his hips squirm as he wrapped his legs around Thanos’ hips and pulled him impossibly closer, breath knocked out of his lungs as he pulled the other incredibly more deeper.

"Fuck, Nam-gyu, you’ll be the death of me, fucking shit.." Thanos grunted as he felt his orgasm hit, and he pulled out very quickly before anything, cumming over his thighs and stomach. They stayed like that for a bit, panting and trying to catch their breaths and process what the hell had just happened.

Thanos was the first one to recompose himself, and the sight completely mesmerized him. Nam-gyu had his eyes screwed shut, lips parted as he panted. He was sweating, hair stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were visibly very flushed. He had marks all over his neck and shoulders, some on his collarbones and fingers/bite marks on his thighs. His chest was heaving, body slightly twitching, and fuck, he was covered in his cum.

Cum smeared Nam-gyu’s abdomen, his thighs, come cum ran down Nam-gyu’s cunt and then fell on the sheets below, Thanos had never seen a sight so erotic and yet so beautiful at the same time before. And the first words he could manage out after that were;

"Holy fucking shit."

[charmed-asylum]

The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.

“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.

Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .

This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”

HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .

AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.

Called to Duty 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last. 

Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself? 

You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. 

"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?" 

You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage. 

"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--" 

"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder. 

You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water. 

"No, you don't--" 

"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." 

"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal." 

"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway." 

You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.  

"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say. 

His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you." 

He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter. 

"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest." 

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left. 

You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window. 

Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment. 

You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene. 

A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look. 

"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says. 

"And tea?" You add. 

"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you." 

"Yeah, I... I know." 

You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.  

"Thank you," you smile as best you can. 

"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter. 

You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down. 

He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses. 

You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit. 

"You-" he begins. 

"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time. 

You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation. 

"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?" 

His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help." 

"Okay, but why?" 

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." 

"You want to?" 

"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me." 

You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other." 

"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?" 

"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend." 

"Was," he interjects.  

"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes." 

"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says. 

"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much." 

"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders. 

“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you? 

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.” 

You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer. 

“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.” 

His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.” 

[aquamarixx]

breaking point

faking an injury to escape the burn out, Hiori Yo meets you at the brink of his breaking point and discovers what’s he’s missing; the courage to breathe, to rest, and to finally choose himself for once.

⁺₊ ❆ TURNING POINT 2025 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing hiori yo x reader word count 2.3k words tags post timeskip, aged up, hurt/comfort, good ending, hiori just tired of the endless grind navigation

Hiori Yo is exhausted.

Ever since getting out of Blue Lock and being drafted into Bastard München, football has consumed his entire life. The intense matches, relentless training, and constant scrutiny have left him drained, with no time to breathe or process the pressure he feels both on and off the field. 

Every move on the field feels like walking a tightrope, with countless eyes ready to tear him apart the moment he stumbles. His teammates are laser-focused on victory, their intensity leaving no room for camaraderie. And then there are his parents.

His parents, teetering on the brink of divorce,who continue to see him as their last hope to fix their fractured relationship. But Hiori knows better.

No amount of football glory will solve their problems.

He would rather have them get divorced than let their dissatisfaction and resentment towards each other fester any further. Because at this point, there’s nothing to save.

No one’s winning. Not his mom, not his dad, and especially not him. 

So when a nasty collision with Barou during an exhibition match against Italy Ubers results into a mild sprain, Hiori takes advantage of it. He pretends his injuries are worse than they are, hoping to escape the constant grind of football and take a much-needed break. 

The league assigns him to you, a young physical therapist with a promising reputation.

When he first meets you, the first thing he notices are your eyes. Your eyes—so bright and full of life—are a stark contrast to his own, dulled by burnout.They’re so full of life. 

Even your handshake catches him off guard, firm and enthusiastic, as if you genuinely care about this moment. You shake his hands, a little too eager, a little too tighter than he expected.

Aah. Must be nice, Hiori thinks, to have that kind of passion and not feel like you're being crushed by it.

“It’s a Grade 2 sprain,” you explain during your first consultation. “No broken bones or torn tissues, just mild swelling. With proper care, you’ll be back on the field in three to six weeks.” You pause, glancing at your clipboard. “I do recommend physical therapy to ensure everything heals correctly, and your team manager requested it as well.”

Three to six weeks. It’s isn’t bad. But if he plays his cards right, maybe he can stretch it to ten or even twelve weeks. Anything to keep himself off the field a little longer.

At first, Hiori half-heartedly goes through the motions. But as the weeks pass, you notice how quickly he’s recovering. By the third week, it’s clear he could be back to full strength in another three.

That’s when Hiori ups his game.

“I’m still feeling some pain,” he tells you during a session, wincing for effect as he tests his ankle.

Alarmed, you immediately run additional tests. The results come back clear—no abnormalities, no lingering issues. But Hiori insists the pain is real, suggesting he just needs more rest at home (and by “rest,” he means gaming marathons on his PC).

Your concern deepens, not wanting to risk it, especially since Hiori isn’t just any athlete. “Skipping therapy isn’t an option,” you warn, your tone firm but not unkind. “If you don’t stick to the regimen, I’ll have to notify your team.”

Hiori stiffens. His plan to buy more time is starting to backfire. Begrudgingly, he agrees to continue.

As the weeks go by, Hiori does find himself looking forward to your sessions. You’re different from the cold, mechanical efficiency he’s used to in his professional life. You’re kind and thoughtful, and he notices how your eyes light up when you’re helping others.

Even when you’re clearly exhausted, you go out of your way to cheer up the kids waiting in the clinic, slipping them candy when no one’s watching. Sometimes, the older patients would strike up conversations, and though you’d apologize to him afterward for the delay, he never really minded.

There’s something appealing about your openness, your passion, the way you seem to pour your whole heart into every detail of your work. He envies it. It’s the same kind of fire he used to have for football, the fire that now feels like a dying ember.

And as he continues to enjoy his sessions with you, the guilt starts to pile up. He sees the extra hours you put in, combing through his test results, double-checking your notes. One night, he overhears you fretting aloud about the possibility of ruining someone’s career or being seen as incompetent.

“What if I’m wrong?” you whisper but it can’t hide the fear in your voice. “What if I’m missing something and it ruins his career?”

He recognizes the weight of your anxiety—the same kind of crushing pressure he feels from his parents’ expectations. For the first time, he sees her not just as an obstacle to his rest, but as someone who understands his struggles.

It eats him, seeing someone who’s only trying to help him be that affected by his lies. 

During a particularly long session, you’re clearly worn down. You arrived later than usual, in a disheveled state. Your hair is a mess, a couple of strands escaping your low bun. Bags grow darker under your eyes and there’s sluggishness in your movements. You skim through your notes quickly, your voice faltering under the weight of your own exhaustion.

“So, Hiori, it’s possible this could be an occult fracture or stress fractures,” you say, speaking faster than usual for someone who’s tired. “These can happen because of repetitive injuries or even normal stress on weakened bones. Normally, the body can repair these fractures with time, but without rest, they can worsen, potentially leading to larger fractures.”

Normally, the bone is able to repair these small fractures. But that needs time. When the activity continues or happens again before the repairs are complete, these small fractures can add up to form a stress fracture. In extreme cases, ongoing activities can cause sudden larger fractures.” You were talking a bit faster, skimming through your notes. The guilt begins to seep in. 

You pause, rubbing your temples. “I’ve never handled a case like this before, so I’ve been consulting with other colleagues and rechecking everything. Your team manager agreed to extend your therapy for another four weeks—just to be safe.”

“I haven’t had a case like this before. So it might take a couple of more weeks for us to address the issue. I hope you didn’t mind that I took the liberty of talking to your team manager to extend your sessions for at least 4 more weeks.”

Four more weeks. He should be thrilled, but all he sees is the strain in your posture and the doubt clouding your voice. He can’t take it anymore.

“I’ve been lying,” he blurts out, the words sharp and trembling as if they’ve been clawing their way out for weeks.

You pause mid-note, your pen hovering over the paper. Slowly, you lift your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“I… I exaggerated my injury,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I needed an excuse—a way out. From football, my parents, everything.”

Your gaze remains steady, unreadable, as his words hang in the air. Then, you blink, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. “You… lied?”

He looks down, shame written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“You lied?” you repeat, the weight of his confession beginning to sink in. Your voice is calm, but there’s a quiet tremor beneath it, a raw edge he doesn’t miss. “Hiori, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Do you have any idea?” you interrupt, your tone still measured, though cracks of exhaustion begin to show. “I’ve been losing sleep over your case. Nights spent second-guessing every test, wondering if I missed something crucial. I’ve gone over your file more times than I can count because I thought I was failing you.”

He flinches, guilt carving deep lines into his face. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” you say, the weight of your words pressing down on him. Your voice isn’t loud, but it’s tired, worn thin by the toll of his deception. “You didn’t think about how this would affect me. About the stress, the doubt, the hours I’ve poured into trying to help you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “I know I messed up. But I didn’t do it to hurt you. I just… I couldn’t breathe anymore.” Now, it’s his turn to break. 

And you notice it. How tense he is, as if there’s so much he’s been carrying on his back. Your shoulders slump slightly, the anger ebbing into something more fragile. But you don’t respond, letting the silence stretch until he speaks again.

“My parents… They’ve always been fighting, ever since I can remember. And I’m stuck in the middle, trying to hold everything together. Football used to be my escape, but now it’s just another thing they argue about. Another way for them to push me. I didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

The room grows heavy with his confession. You glance at him, and for the first time, his usual calm exterior has shattered, revealing a young man who’s barely holding himself together.

Taking a deep breath, you place your notes down and fold your hands. “Hiori,” you say softly, though there’s still an edge of weariness in your tone. “Running from your problems doesn’t make them go away. And pulling other people into your escape… it’s not fair. To me, or to yourself.”

He nods, his eyes downcast. You hesitate for a moment before continuing.

“And you can’t just admire passion from afar, Hiori. You have to fight for it. Even when it feels like the world is against you.”

His eyes meet yours, wide and glassy. “I know,” he whispers. “I just didn’t know what else to do. But… meeting you, seeing how much you care—about your work, about your patients—it’s made me realize something.”

You raise an eyebrow, but stay silent, letting him continue.

“You don’t just care because it’s your job,” he says, his voice steadying. “You care because it’s who you are. And seeing that… it made me realize how far I’ve drifted from what I used to love. From who I want to be.”

His words catch you off guard, striking a chord you didn’t expect. You look at him for a long moment, your exhaustion giving way to something softer. Your expression softens as his words sink in. 

“I want to try. Not just for football, but for myself. For everything I’ve been running from.” He nods, his expression resolute. 

For the first time since his confession, a faint smile tugs at your lips. “Good. Because the only way out of this is through it.”

“Also… You know I should report this, right?” you say, half-joking, as Hiori stays quiet, his expression flickering with surprise at the sudden shift in tone.

“But I won’t,” you add, your grin softening. “Doctor-patient confidentiality and all.”

You laugh, and after a beat, he laughs too—a sound lighter than anything you’ve heard from him before.

In that moment, something shifts. The air feels lighter, the tension unraveling into something resembling hope. He came here for a way to heal his body, but what he found was a way to start healing his soul.

And you, despite your exhaustion, can’t help but feel a flicker of pride—because maybe, just maybe, you’ve helped him take the first step toward being whole again.

From that day on, Hiori approaches therapy differently. The façade he had built around himself starts to crack, allowing glimpses of the person he truly is. He stops faking symptoms and begins putting in genuine effort, not just for his body but for his mind. Each session becomes more than just a routine of stretches and exercises—it’s a space where he starts to confront the feelings he’s buried for so long.

When the two of you are alone, you talk about things outside football, like good old friends. He talks about the pressure he’s been under, the weight of expectations from everyone around him, and the way football, once his passion, had turned into a source of dread. You listen, guiding him where you can, but mostly letting him navigate his own thoughts. 

It’s a strange dynamic, but somehow, it feels natural. It feels right.

Outside of therapy, Hiori begins to address the chaos at home. For the first time, he sits his parents down and tells them how their arguments have affected him, how he’s been caught in the crossfire of their unhappiness. It’s not easy, and there are setbacks, but he’s no longer running from the conversations that once felt impossible. 

By the time his final session arrives, he’s changed a bit. He’s still Hiori—the same sharp-witted, slightly mischievous person you met weeks ago—but there’s a newfound lightness in him. 

As the session wraps up, he lingers by the door, his usual confidence replaced by something a little more hesitant. Finally, he turns to you, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I know this is probably the worst time, but… would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. 

“You’re the first person I’ve felt like I could really talk to in… forever.” He confesses. And you see it—the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability he’s no longer afraid to show. It’s not the charm of an athlete used to getting his way; it’s the genuine request of someone who’s found a lifeline and wants to hold onto it, if only for a little while longer.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Okay,” you say finally, a smile breaking through the fatigue. “But only if you promise to stop faking injuries.”

Hiori laughs—a real, unburdened laugh that seems to echo in the room, filling the space with warmth. “Deal,” he says, his grin wide and boyish.

amari's notes: this went on a bit longer than i wanted. this has been a longtime headcanon. i think he'll try to get out of playing football for a while to rest and rot in his bedroom to play games. anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf

[writingwisterias]

Hey hey!!

You can ignore this if you aren't comfortable but I was wondering if you have any ideas for how different eras Leon would react or handle drunk gf? Smth like been out with the girlies or asking him for a ride home? Go crazy!

Low key started thinking about it after a minor drunken injury weeks ago (all good!)

Hi Anon!

I'm sorry this late, I hope you are okay lmao! We have all been there at some point 👀...I've never fallen down some stairs or whatever

Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Fluff, Drunk!Reader,

Fem!Reader

RE2:

You went to a house party, Leon didn't feel like going though so he stayed behind

He trusted you not to do anything stupid and find your own way back.

That was until he got a call from you that you had been left by your friends and needed him to come and pick you up

He left immediately, pulling up to the location in his jeep with a smile at your state

Had to catch you as he helped you into the car as you tripped on the pavement

The entire ride you are chatting to him about all the gossip. He doesn't care who kissed who that night. Your smile and adorable giggles made his night

Caved when you asked for fast food - with the idea it will sober you up a little bit at least.

RE4R:

I feel like he would like a quieter life but when he meets you and you drag him around everywhere.

He doesn't complain he just goes with the flow, he'll have a few drinks etc to make the time more bearable but never as much as you.

It's cute though, how you'll go out onto the dance floor with a bunch of your friends all stumbling about together

Then you will stumble back over to him, placing a kiss that tasted like whatever you were drinking. A hug that was more you leaning on him than an actual hug

He never prompted you to come back, he was content observing you from the bar, his ass going numb from the bar stool.

When it is time to go home, he's dragging you to a cab. Your leaning on him chattering about whatever was on your mind

Thoughts going by so fast he can barely keep up with you. Changing topics like every 5 seconds

Infinite Darkness:

Encourages you to drink more, he's the type that's willing to be the sober one if he needs to be or at least only limiting himself to a few drinks to make sure you get back safely

He has to drag you out the bar towards the end of the night, your goodbye with the girls is dragging on far too long

The walk back is painful, your stumbling everywhere and so slow to the point he just beds his back and braces his knees

You're hard to carry on his back only because you find it so funny but eventually you pass out

When you do you are like dead weight but don't worry he can take it, he's fought things that are heavier than you

Damnation:

He's drunk with you lets be honest, you are both as bad as each other

Prefers to stay at home and drink so you will too

If you host a girls night he'll happily leave the room and sit in your bedroom so you have the space

The girls don't mind him being there they understand you barely see each other so they are fine with him joining in

When he does, he'll suggest things like board games or card games

For Christmas he'll get you loads of drinking games to play either together or with your friends

Finds it funny when you get the couple drinking games

RE6:

You woke him up from sleeping on the sofa when you called him to pick you up

He's fighting you for an answer as to where you are.

Eventually he just drives to the usual bars not hanging up of course

Finds you just aimlessly wandering down the streets. Pulls over and has to gently guide you into the car

Your moaning about how you have your boyfriend on the phone and he's coming to get you until you realize it's him

He'll give you his jacket in the car so you stay warm, after all the outfit your wearing wouldn't have kept you warm

Loves the gossip you collect and will let you ramble about. There's just something distracting about who kissed who compared to his usual thoughts or conversations with his friends

Vendetta:

The guy would be drunk with you, out and about with your friends whatever. He's with you

And considering he's drank a lot in the film before he starts doing anything I would say he's the type of drunk that you can't actually tell he is until you see the drink

So he's more helpful than you in going home

He's dragging you down the street, pulling you into his side so you stay close

If you fall over he's just sighing and laughing at you

It's almost like two toddlers walking down a street together, they don't know where they are going or how to get there but they do eventually

If you ask for his jacket he'll give it to you but he won't just do it on his own will. He's not really thinking straight

Death Island:

He's smart enough to turn on your phone location before you go out so when you do call him, he's there like instantly

He will sit you down on the bathroom counter and force you to tell him what your skin care routine is as he knows you'll be upset you didn't do it

Will eventually get you to write a step by step process and pin it to his bathroom mirror so he knows in advance

Probably just throws on one of his t shirts instead of finding your own clothes

Listens to your drunken talks until eventually you fall asleep cuddles into him

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”