#i want to be a fly on the wall for all of it

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.. 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭.. 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮.❞

Which sex position is your future lover’s favorite and why? (Detailed)

Masterlist

Author's note,

It's been a while since I last posted, hi everyone. I hope you enjoy your Christmas coming up!

Divider

Pile 01.

“I want to devour the sweet nectar of the sin that lies beneath me. To feel it dripping on the sin of my fingertips, the graze that will melt us into ecstasy burning in the brain of our subconscious, such a beauty that I only get to see—for how lucky I am.. a lucky bastard.. that I am.”

Your future lover’s energy puts me in a calm trance, the calmest one could be. I feel like I am sleeping or walking on a path of water that will lead me to paradise. They are so soft with you, their love, or shall I say devotion, to you is something they cherished tremendously, and they could not bear losing that with you. To lose you would simply be their death, and they cannot have that done, and that is why their favorite sex position is all over the place. They do not have one and could never dare; they want to feel you everywhere, in every position, and want to see your beautiful face move and show pure pleasure as they please you with the utmost respect. “That is something you deserve, you deserve the utmost respect one could bear, and that is the one thing you never have to ask or prove with me—it will be with you the minute you are my lover, though I am sorry it was not done when we were fighting.”

Enemies to lovers, or rivals to lovers, is your trope with them. You honestly made them want to fall in love, and made them understand what it was to actually love. Their ex, (or multiple, energies are flying around like crazy), were nasty. That’s really it, so awful, but they used that to improve on what they wanted, which was building walls around until you had the audacity to break them and make them fall for you, “shame on you!’’

(I can feel them next to me, they are so animated, so damn loving, it’s like they want to grab you right here and right now and pull you to their future).

Aside from your “audacity,” they are very happy that you did because they were spiraling into something darker and started to use something dangerous, not illegal or self-harming (it’s not my place to tell you), as a coping mechanism, yet now.. you are their drug. Not literally, but you basically saved them from this impending doom of shame and guilt. I believe you should get ready to heal your inner child (even if you have) with them because they will be spoiling you .. like crazy, maybe a bit too much? I see a vision with an insane amount of gifts, teddy bears, jewelry, sports gear, food, or something to do with your religion. Also art supplies or crystals that are insanely expensive, but if it is for you, then “f*ck it, right?” That is how their attitude is with you.

Ten of wands.

I took a break because something was missing from them, and they could not tell me. Meaning they kept focusing on the positive aspects when it comes to your relationship and sex with you. However, with the ten of wands, they actually do not know how to have a favorite sexual position. In a way, they thought it was off-putting that others always picked a favorite; if you picked a favorite, then you lost the chance to explore around and make your lover feel sexual pleasure. So, intuition tells me they feel overburdened and overwhelmed picking a favorite, but at the same time, they feel pressured to pick one.

They know that you would not give a damn whether or not they had one, but their colleagues, co-workers, a boss, or some type of group pops up with how they think about sex, and it is affecting your future lover right now, and when you meet; they will feel insecure throughout your sexual journey with you thus why the relationship with them will be enemies or rivals to lovers. I believe it's peer pressure with them. My intuition tells me this is the reason why you saved them and why they would do anything for you.

I feel a lot of anxious energy with them, a part of me wants to hug them and tell them they are okay, okay to love and show their pleasure in their own way, but I already know this is how you feel with them and what you will tell them. And when you do, they will confess you saved them.

As I was editing, I had to give you a message and also saw 777. Listen here. You are absolutely allowed to love whoever you want, you are allowed to be spoiled and pampered, you are allowed to be kissed in the most romantic ways, and you are allowed to have someone help you take showers. No, this person will not treat you in a bad way because you struggle with mental health problems. And no, they will not let anyone laugh at you even when you guys are not together because you do not deserve that, and they also think someone who does that is a "f*cking asshole.'' You are so so so .. and many so worthy of love and I hope each day you tell yourself that, because it is true or else I would not have said it nor left this message, understood? Allow yourself to have the happiness you deserve and stop being your own blockage because, at the end of the day, it is not worth it, and seeing you struggle to have your happiness, do you think your kid self would like that? Would that be okay with them or is that okay—to have yourself struggling to make amends with your past, forcefully giving yourself guilt for something that should have been forgiven a long time ago? Let it go, it is seriously okay, let it go. Yes, what you did was awful, and should not have happened with them, but let it go and do and become better for the mistakes you caused and for yourself so it does not happen again. So as I said before, if I didn't mean it, I would not have mentioned it in your pile, so let it go.

Masterlist

Pile 02.

Your future lover's favorite sex position is face sitting. They love, and I mean this very heavily, love eating you out, giving you oral, sucking you off, whatever the case is, they are very addicted to your private parts. “All you, all you, and .. all you, you are so fucking delicious baby, f*ckkkkk.” I see a scene where they are covered in your juices, your cum, everything about you, and they are still eating you out as you grab their arms, body parts, or hair. Gripping for dear life, begging for relief, but nothing happens other than using their tongue in or on you faster, swirling it until it hits that sensitive spot of yours and, as well, as they are filled to the brim with your essence. The whole idea of eating dessert does not appeal to them UNTIL it is yours.

I hope you are ready for a very smutty scene since I cannot channel anymore other than their fantasies.. for you. I will address you as Y/N (your name), and them as F/L (future lover).

Scene A)

Your F/L will grab your leg and flip you over as they crawl towards your body, grabbing your skin to feel your skin. To feel the heat of your body because of how aroused you are. They will crawl towards your lips and greedily suck your top lips, nibbling the bottom to feel the taste from the last meal you ate, and chew softly. Then they will roughly thrust their tongue into your lips, sucking and grazing their tongue on yours and your teeth; they want to feel everything about you. Then they will pull out, grope your jaw and spit into your mouth as they crawl down and then sensually drag their tongue down to your chest area, sucking on them, and then to your private part as they blow air on it, seeing you twitch, whimper, groan, moan, etc. They will lean down and then give you oral.

Scene B)

Y/N is focused on doing their work, finishing up a coming project, and their deadline is coming within a week or two. F/L comes waltzing in as if they own the place and gazes at Y/N, smirking at their inconvenience. Though it would have been better if they could have helped Y/N, but no, it did not fit their shenanigans or their agenda. They stride over to Y/N as they massaged Y/N's shoulder, building trust with them. Once gaining their trust, they forcefully kiss Y/N, tasting their sweet nectar and feeling their tension dropping down until they remember their work as they push away F/L. But no, you would assume F/L will hold back and respect that push, yet they will not (still consent here). F/L will pick Y/N over their shoulder despite the weight of Y/N, and walk towards a countertop or over a table and bend them over. F/L will look at Y/N, and undress them as they crouch down and tease Y/N’s undergarment until they see a wet spot and then take it off only to tease Y/N with a toy, waiting for them to release but not cum since it is not allowed.

It will last for 2 hours straight, and once Y/N has had enough, they will face Y/N over their shoulders, similar to someone sitting on someone’s shoulder, only in this case, Y/N is sitting in front of F/L. F/L will suck or eat out Y/N until they are cumming over.. and over again and sobbing for F/L to stop. But it will not happen until Y/N uses their safe word(s) and once that does happen, pampering aftercare will erupt and leave Y/N comforted to the highest degree possible. With an insane amount of kisses, "because you deserve that and you deserve me to eat you out more!''

Masterlist

[dduane]

Invictus

In the dimness he woke and knew it was too late. Morning never came so late unless the world was ending.

Fortunately, he knew what to do about that.

He blinked and ruffled his feathers, looking around. This was his place. Surrounding a patch of grass were two holly trees, a pine, a cypress whose branches all went the wrong way, and much shrubbery, mostly beech and thorn. The shelter was good here, even on nights like last night. And in the holly, food appeared hung up: good food that tasted of fat and meat. It was all his. Later, when it was time for sex, there would be someone else who’d get some of it. But right now, he owned it.

This cold white stuff on the ground did complicate matters. It came and went without warning, and here it was again. Now, others who might have spent the morning scratching around the ground instead of stuffing themselves full up here would be turning up in his territory, eating his food. His feathers ruffled up again, this time with rage at the thought. Bastards. Bastards. Kill them all.

He hopped up onto the branch that had the best view across the patch of grass and into the bushes, and sang. Bastards! Who wants a piece of me? Come and get it! Because this was when it had to be said, no matter how much you might have preferred to sit quiet with your feathers fluffed up, conserving your heat. The dim sky was already paling toward that too-cold blue. It would be a bad day, cold, everybody and his family would turn up here trying to get at the tree food, which was what you needed this time of year if you meant to stay alive until dusk –

And suddenly he heard the harsh dark cawing coming from across the hardened path, across the wall, in the wood full of tall starved pines. He shivered. Not so early, he thought, what are you doing up at this hour? But he knew. That one wanted the tree-food too. It had come for it before. Now, in the silence before the morning wind, he heard the flapping of the wings.

Hastily he turned to the food cage, ate a few mouthfuls, felt the fat melt down his throat like blood, like life. Almost before he finished, the darkness had landed with a noisy thrash of leaves and branches up in the holly. A huge expressionless black eye gazed down at him.

He sang. It was almost all he could do. It’s mine! Stay away, or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! But the outcome was hardly so simple. The black-headed, white-backed shape with the axe-like beak bounced down another branch, and another, its eye on that tree food, that meat. It liked meat too. He’d once seen it zoom down onto the pond and simply pick up a baby duck and fly off with it. I’ll kill you if you get any closer! Don’t push me! I will!

It came closer. It was winter, it was death, the shape now only one branch of holly away. He sang as if life depended on it: because it did. If he had enough to eat, the sun came up. If the sun came up, the world was safe. It was as simple as that. Go away! I have to eat the food or the world will end! I’ll kill you to keep that from happening! Monster, go away, don’t make me rip you up — ! He fluttered at the monstrous gaping head, enraged, desperate.

A clacketing, rattling noise from behind. The black eye went wide, the death-pale bulk roused its wings and flapped clumsily out of the holly tree. Desperate with relief, he flung himself at the food-cage again, and ate with frantic speed as the sky paled brighter, toward day-blue: and between mouthfuls, he sang at the top of his lungs, shuddering with relief and triumph. Bastard! I warned you not to mess with me! Victory! Victory!

The sun peered up over the far hill. The shadows fled. He gorged himself as the black bird flew off, and stopped, and shouted again, Victory!

…She stood there with her mug in one hand, looking out across the back yard snow at the dot of red breast deep in among the holly branches, pecking furiously at the suet in its little cage. “Boy,” she said to the husband, back in the kitchen, “listen to that guy. You’d think he’d just won World War Three.”

“Yeah. Where’s the milk?”

The door closed. On the snow, the sun of the shortest day shone.

Victory!

[ahqkas]

“WHEN YOU’RE LOST IN THE DARKNESS, LOOK FOR THE LIGHT — dick grayson.

PAIRING dick grayson 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS he was completely frustrating. him with his cheeky grins and perfect teeth. maybe that’s why it didn’t anger you when he took an interest in you WORD COUNT 5.6k WARNINGS / TAGS artist!reader, cursing, mention of reader’s hair, unedited NOTES yes the title is inspired by tlou & yes i compared dick to a blue jay. i decided to mix 2 different reqs ( req 1 & req 2 ) because they worked well together for me soo i hope it’s okay! © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

IN ART, WHAT WE WANT IS THE CERTAINTY THAT ONE SPARK OF ORIGINAL GENIUS SHALL NOT BE EXTINGUISHED.

Said Mary Cassatt, and her words had echoed in your mind for as long as you could remember. There was something comforting in the idea that creativity—pure, untouched, and entirely your own—could endure even such cruel punishment as darkness. Darkness was a language you understood well, especially living in Gotham, where shadows devoured the city inch by inch until there was nothing but colorless void. The darkness wrapped itself around you, slowly seeping in to claim your soul as well, like the chill of a cold winter night creeping into your bones.

But even in a city this unfair, you believed there was still some beacon of light. Hidden, of course, but not extinct.

And so, you painted. You drew. You created. Every stroke of your brush and pencil felt infinite. Art was the closest thing you felt to immortality, and you clung to that belief like a child did to innocence.

Your small apartment was more than just a simple place where you lived. Every inch of the space bore a trace of you and of your determination to carve something special into the world. The walls, once peeling and beige, were now alive with color. A breath of life you granted the old home. It wasn’t much, your apartment, but it was yours.

The darkness couldn’t quite reach you there, and the light found you within your search for it.

It was late past midnight when you met him. The hour of the night was silent despite the fact you were living on one of the most dangerous streets of Gotham. Silent, but far from safe. The full moon hung high in the sky, its pale light struggling to pierce through the dark clouds that blanketed the whole night. Every so often, the moonlight would break free and shimmered a silver beam that barely softened the shadows.

You sat curled up on your old, beaten couch in your living room, aching legs tucked beneath you. The thrifted mustard-yellow couch sat beneath a gallery wall you’d arranged with so much focus you were unmistakably proud of the piece. The light from the fairy lights strung above the paintings softened the sharp edges of your apartment.

The pencil between your fingers moved along the paper with practiced movements of an artist as you clutched the sketchbook close to you with your free hand. You brought the drawing of a blue jay to life. Its small, delicate body was perched on the middle of the page, its head tilted slightly to the side as if caught mid-movement. The blue jay’s wings began to take a lively form beneath your hands.

You loved sketching birds—the way they had an open opinion of freedom in their feathers, how they could fly away from the weight of everything below on earth.

The quiet was broken by a dull thump.

Your pencil stilled, the sharp tip pressing into the delicate beak of the blue jay as you tilted your head towards the sound. It came again, heavier this time, right outside on the fire escape under your living room window. Living in Gotham meant you knew better than to ignore suspicious and strange sounds, especially at this hour.

Setting the sketchbook down on the coffee table, you slid off the couch with a pounding heart and bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor. The window was already cracked open, letting in a cold breeze of night air. It prickled at your skin and sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine.

You moved with an intention to investigate, your hand gripping the window frame when you leaned forward slightly to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Before you could fully stick your head through the opening, something shifted — a flash of movement so sudden that you instinctively took a step back to avoid bumping your head. Then, just as quickly, a figure shot up from the darkness surrounding your fire escape and you watched as his top half leaned against the window frame with effortless grace.

Anyone could recognize the symbol gracing his chest.

Nightwing was on your fire escape, practically with one of his halves in your apartment.

You blinked at him, startled at the unexpected visit from Gotham's (wait, wasn’t he supposed to be in Blüdhaven?) acrobatic vigilante. He stared back without shame. His face was partially illuminated by the soft glow of your fairy lights and his forehead, plus the top of his eyes, were hidden beneath the dark strands of his hair. Damp with sweat and light spray of rain. The black domino mask was doing little to hide the attractiveness of his handsome face, although it did not tell you his identity. Or the color of his eyes. The white lenses didn’t show any signs of life, it would be almost unsettling if it wasn’t for the other features of his face.

His jaw was sharp, the bone ready to cut through glass, and his lips held a shadowy grin in them. His chest heaved as if he’d just ran a marathon, or in his case, as if he’d just been in a chase. And his suit—a sleek, midnight black with that striking blue emblem—was marred by faint fabric tears and streaks of grime.

When he spoke up after a minute of analyzing you, his voice was breathless but warm, like he hadn’t just scared the life out of you by his entrance. “Hey. Sorry about the dramatics. Mind if I, uh, come in?” He glanced over his shoulder briefly, as though checking to see if someone had followed him.

You swallowed the lump that formed in the back of your throat, fingers still gripping onto the windowsill. You were pretty sure the surprise and disbelief etched into your face could be completely seen. “What? You’re joking, right?” those small words stumbled past your lips in a sharper tone than you intended. “You can’t just—“ gesturing vaguely to the fire escape he was standing on, you trailed off for him to finish the sentence himself.

But instead of an answer, Nightwing simply offered a grin, all perfect teeth. It was the kind that felt like it was meant to disarm you and melt you into a puddle at his feet. A swooning, pretty puddle.

“Technically, I can. But I’d prefer not to freeze out here while we debate it.”

Your reply to his cheeky comment died in your throat the moment you heard it—an angry bellow from somewhere below, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots thumping against the wet pavement. The voices were low and animalistic, only growing louder by seconds. Whoever they were, it didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were looking for.

Shooting him a pointed look with one of your eyebrows raised, you realized it was useless as he was already halfway through the window, ducking inside easily. He didn’t so much as flinch when his heavy boots hit the floor with a faint thud. You could only watch the trail of dirt and grime he was leaving behind himself. The sounds from outside faded into muffled whispers when he closed the window, and effectively scanned the room with a quick glance.

“You really have a way of making an entrance,” you mumbled under your breath as you gave him space and moved back towards the sofa. The sarcasm wasn’t meant to reach his ears but with the way one corner of his lips tugged up, you knew he heard every single word. Did this guy have super hearing?

The faintest glint of amusement danced on his features, despite the lack of emotion in his hidden eyes. You could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips quirked up. “It’s part of the job description,” he replied to your remark casually, as if crashing into strangers’ apartments was just another Tuesday for him.

With a sigh, you shook your head and leaned back against the arm of the couch, watching him move around the living room. He didn’t sit, didn’t relax, didn’t even pause long enough to breathe out the weight of his situation. Instead, his gaze grazed over everything in clear sight — your paintings on the wall, the cluttered coffee table and its content, the pencils scattered across your notepad.

He was strange.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” his response came quickly, he was probably distracted by the hand brushing against the edge of the window frame as he double-checked the latch.

You watched him carefully and tried to not let his presence throw you off. There was something unbelievable about seeing him there, in the heart of your apartment of all places, where every inch of the space was yours. Technically, he was in your territory now.

“Don’t worry,” Nightwing added with humor etching his voice when you didn’t say anything. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“Take your time,” the dripping sarcasm got out the exact same reaction from him just like before, and you watched as he smirked at you, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in a way that told you he was far too used to getting under people’s skin. Cheeky bastard.

This inspection of his lasted for a few more minutes before his pacing slowed down and his masked eyes landed on your beaten couch. The faint amusement in his features shifted, softening into something more thoughtful as he approached you. You stiffened when he got close enough. The light scent of cologne hit your nose from the proximity.

Gloved hand reached for your notepad, and you watched him again when he started tracing the soft pencil lines of your sketches. You seemed to watch him a lot tonight, but you didn’t dare to interrupt him. He was still a stranger and you lived alone. The vigilante could take you down without breaking a sweat, no comment.

The blue jays stared back at him from the page with their wings outstretched mid-flight, the faint smudge of pencil giving them a sense of movement, like they could lift off the paper and fly toward their freedom at any moment.

“You drew these?” the question slipped before he could think of it and the raw quietness of his tone surprised you.

You hesitated before you gave him the answer. “Yeah, I did. What, are you secretly an art critic, too?”

His lips twitched, but his eyes stayed on the sketches. “Blue jays,” the murmur was more to himself than to you. “They’re nice.”

“Nice?” you echoed back at him, a small smile ghosting your lips upon hearing his praise. “That’s your verdict? Nice?”

This time, his wide grin returned as he glanced at you from your artwork. You decided on the spot that you liked this look on him. He could be all sharp edges and rough words, but the genuine smiles and clever remarks were a part of him, too. “Hey, I don’t know the first thing about art. But they’re good. Really good. Why blue jays though?”

You shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms around yourself tightly. His clear interest in your work made you feel strangely exposed. “They’re . . . free. They can leave whenever they want, fly away from everything. I guess I like the idea of that.”

Nightwing was quiet for a moment, his masked gaze flicking back to the page like he was seeing something more between the colors and lines you’d drawn. He really was strange. “Makes sense,” he said finally. “They’re tough, too. Survivors.”

For a man who’d just come crashing through your window, being chased by a bunch of angry goons, he suddenly seemed relaxed. The birds meant more to him than he was letting on.

“Guess that explains why you like them.”

“What, you think I’m a blue jay now?”

A smirk made its way to your lips, and you felt a slight hint of satisfaction brewing inside you. You finally got him. “You said it yourself. Tough. Survivors. Seems fitting.”

It was a strange image, seeing someone who carried so much weight on his shoulders standing here, in your little apartment, admiring a simple sketch of a bird. Most people assumed he was a machine under the suit, someone who did their job because it had to be done. But you saw the life in his smile and heard the feelings in his voice. Red flooded his system like any other human being possessed. A beating heart and marred skin. He was human, even under all that armor.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, effectively breaking the silence that followed your cheeky remark. “I’m glad my art could distract you from the mad mob outside.”

That earned you a genuine laugh, low and rich. You noted he had a nice laugh. Everything about him was nice, though. Maybe it was because it was the first time seeing him from up close or maybe it was simply that he got your attention.

⋆.˚ 𓅆 . . .

The next few days were rather busy. You had more work on your shoulders and your family kept pressing about your upcoming visit (spoiler alert; you didn’t really plan on visiting them). Your family members lived far from Gotham, which you were particularly glad for. One boring and busy day went after the other, and so did you with your life. You weren’t going to admit it, but you missed the sudden excitement the cocky vigilante brought with him. It was something new, something that wasn’t boring.

The wind carried a chill that nipped at the exposed skin of your face, numbing your cheeks in the process. The streets of Gotham were alive despite the coldness the new day brought with itself—the city never really stopped, even when it probably should have. Your tea sat untouched beside your half-eaten croissant, warm steam curling lazily above the porcelain cup, while your hand moved steadily across the pages of your sketchbook.

You were drawing another blue jay. This one was perched on a thin branch, its head cocked slightly with ruffled feathers as if caught in the same breeze that howled right now. The pencil lines of your drawing were sharper this time, more confident, though you weren’t sure why.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t stop thinking about them—the blue jays.

It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before, your thoughts fixating on a subject, but this time it felt different. Ever since that night, when Nightwing had stood in the heart of your living room and held your sketch like it was something worth admiring, you’d been thinking about them more and more often. Birds had always represented freedom to you. A fleeting kind of beauty, one that wouldn’t last long. But now they carried something else. Something more.

You found yourself replaying his words in your mind while you shaded the curve of the blue jay’s wing, your pencil working instinctively as the low conversations and local sounds of the café faded into a hushed whisper. The bird began to take shape, its tiny body beaming with life.

The next thing you knew, the chair you were sitting on rocked slightly and your bag was violently jerked from the edge of the table.

It took you a second to process what had happened. One second, your purse was there, sitting by your side, and the next, it was gone. Snatched by a blur of unidentified movement. Your heart skipped an uncomfortable beat as you whipped your head towards the stranger, catching sight of the thief bolting through the crowded street.

Panic started to settle in. Your bag. Gone. It was gone. Everything was in there—your money, your keys, your ID. The grip of your fingers on the pencil in your grasp tightened while adrenaline surged through your veins. Without having any second thoughts, you shot to your feet. The chair scraped loudly against the floor and you bolted after him.

“Hey! Stop!”

The thief was already halfway down the block when you finally pushed past the crowd with alarming speed. Your boots moved without any more thinking. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was quick on his feet, his figure darting between pedestrians who shouted in surprise and yelped in confusion when he pushed into them to clear his path. Your lungs burned as you tried to push against your limits and keep up with him. The strap of your bag was swinging wildly in his grip.

“Stop!” you shouted again, although you doubted he would listen. He wouldn’t. People around turned to look at the chaos, but no one made a move to help. It was Gotham, after all — everyone looked after their own self.

The thief rounded a corner, successfully disappearing into an alley, and you felt a pinch of dread forming in your stomach. You didn’t know this part of the city well, and the narrow alleyway clothed in shadows sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine. Hesitation brewed in you for a moment before you made up your mind. Fuck it. You didn’t care that chasing him was reckless. You didn’t care that you had no plan for what you’d do if you actually managed to catch up to him. All you knew was that he had your bag—your life—and you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

Whoosh!

You barely registered the sound at first. Your focus was entirely on your thief, the dark shade of his jacket disappearing deeper and deeper, just beyond your reach. The puffs of air left your lips in a sharp shape and the cold air didn’t help much. But you didn’t stop running. You couldn’t stop.

Then, out of nowhere, a dark blur descended from above, landing right in your path.

“Whoa, hold it!”

The familiar drawl of his voice ringed in your ears before you saw him. You skidded to a halt, nearly losing your balance as his figure stepped into the sight. His arms were outstretched to block your way, and you felt a sudden burst of frustration upon his appearance. After all, you still had a bad guy to catch.

“Move,” moving to the side, you tried to sidestep him and start your chase again. Key word—tried. He shifted smoothly, following your movements like a mirror.

“Not happening,” he interrupted you firmly. “You can’t go running after some guy who might be armed. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

“I don’t care. He has my purse—my money, my keys, everything! I have to—“

“You have to stay here,” Nightwing cut you off again, and you pushed the urge to strangle him away. His presence was infuriating, even though you could see every muscle in his jawline tightening and tensing. He was holding back, that much was evident.

“I don’t need your help.”

His hands shot out the moment you tried to brush past him again, gloves catching your biceps in a firm hold. It wasn’t painful, nor would leave any marks in the form of bruising, but he held you in a grounding manner. Almost as if he wanted to calm you down.

“Yes, you do,” the glint of seriousness in his gaze made you halt in your argument. He meant every single word. “Look, I get it. You’re pissed, you’re scared, and you feel like you have to do something. But this guy could have a knife, or worse, and you’re completely unarmed. He’s probably long gone by now, too. I’ll track him down and get your stuff. That’s a promise, Blue.”

You swallowed hard as the fire that fueled your intentions died a little bit. He was right, even though you didn’t want to admit it.

“Fine, but you better catch him.”

A small, reassuring nod and a gentle squeeze was all you received from the masked vigilante before he released you and took off after the thief. A moment later, you realized he gave you a nickname.

Blue.

⋆.˚ 𓅆 . . .

The thick steam from your earlier shower still lingered in the bathroom, curling faintly in the air and clinging along the tiles and the edges of the mirror as you massaged moisturizer into your skin like you did every night. It was a routine by now. One you were excited to participate in. Your favorite playlist hummed softly from the phone propped up on the counter near the sink, the melody blending with the occasional rustle of the city outside your window.

Gotham was quiet tonight. No sirens. No shouts. Just silence.

You signed and leaned against the counter as you let the coolness of the white cream soothe your skin. The events of this day were rather . . . unpleasant. Your purse was gone, and the thought of all the things you’d lost still made your chest ache. Your keys, your ID, even your favorite pen you always kept in the front pocket—all gone, snatched in a moment. But at least you were safe. Nightwing had made sure you didn’t dive head first into what could have been a disaster.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, either. The way he’d swooped in like some kind of a movie hero. For a man who lived his life surrounded by constant danger, he’d had this unmistakably calmness about him, like no problem was big enough to not handle.

Reaching for a soft towel, you patted your face dry with it when you finished the last step of your nighttime routine. A moment of realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

Your sketchbook.

Your heart sank deeply in your chest, and you froze, gripping the towel tightly. You’d left it at the café. It must’ve been sitting there on the table, untouched, while you chased after that thief like a reckless idiot. You would be lucky if you found it where you’d left it lying as there was a possibility of a tired barista throwing it away.

That notepad wasn’t just another notebook to you. It held weeks, months, of drawings—ideas, experiments, half-finished sketches that no one but you had seen. And the blue jays he praised . . .

The day’s exhaustion weighed heavily on your tense shoulders as you finally made your way to your bedroom. You switched off the light in the hallway, plunging your apartment into darkness save for the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the cracks in the blinds.

A dark shadow caught your eyes the second you stepped into the room and your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. There, casually perched on your windowsill was Nightwing, dressed in shadows.

His grin was the first thing you recognized on him, the wide stretch of his lips almost haunting in the darkness. His teeth appeared almost sharp, like canines of a predator. But he wasn’t here to hunt tonight. One gloved hand held your bag, dangling it from his fingers as if presenting you a beloved prize.

“Miss me, Blue?”

“Are you insane?” hissing, your palm resting against your beating heart. “You can’t just show up like that!”

A delighted laugh rumbled deep in his chest as he stepped inside like he didn’t invade your personal space and almost gave you a heart attack. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He tossed your stolen (now found) bag on your bed with a flick of his wrist. It took you a moment to process what you were seeing but when you did, your panic gave away to stunned disbelief. “You got it back?”

“Of course. I promised you.”

The smug look on his face softened after those words left his throat. You crossed the room in quick steps, rushing to get your hand on your belongings. Once it was in your hold, you rummaged through the inside. Everything was still there—your keys, your wallet, even the blue pen you favored so much. Relief flooded your system and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. It was all returned.

You glanced at him from the bag, suddenly feeling somehow embarrassed. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

“How about ‘thank you, Nightwing, for saving the day’? That would do,” the arch of his eyebrows told you he was enjoying this, if only a little. Smug bastard.

Rolling your eyes, you felt your lips tugging into a smile anyway. “Thank you for getting me my bag back. Happy?”

“It’s exactly what I wanted but yeah, very.”

A minute of silence stretched between you, one that wasn’t entirely comfortable but during that time, you studied him. He was leaning against the edge of your bed, just shy away from your side.

“You’ve been drawing them a lot, huh?”

“What?”

“The blue jays,” Nightwing gestured towards your desk with his free hand, the other behind his back. He looked strange, amusing even, but you didn’t dare to point it out. You followed his movements, eyes sliding toward your desk full of stray papers. He was right, the wooden space was filled with your recent works, and among them were multiple pieces of those blue birds. “You were working on them that night. At the café, too.”

Your lips parted slightly to voice your confusion, but the words didn’t come. He had noticed? And kept track of it? You didn’t know if you should feel creeped out or honored.

You didn’t get to react much before he perked up. “Oh, almost forgot,” pulling the occupied hand from behind his back, you noticed he held a small book in it.

Not just any book, though. Your sketchbook.

“You went back for it?” the disbelief dripped from the tone of your voice as you reached for the notepad. Your fingertips brushed against his gloves when you did so, and a spark of light crossed through you at the faint touch.

“Figured you’d want it back,” he tried to act nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders without a care in the world, but even if you knew him for such a short period of time, you could tell he was just acting. The subtle tone of his voice betrayed him, along with the rosy dust painting his cheeks. Your thumb traced the broken spine of the notepad. The thought of him chasing down your thief, retrieving your stolen stuff, and then returning for your more personal thing left you speechless. He didn’t have to, but he did—again.

He was so close to you now that the faint scent of rain and city clung to him, mixing with his natural fragrance. You could inhale it all while you saw everything, too—the sharp line of the bone in his jaw, the slight furrow of his brows like he was constantly deep in his mind, and even the way the moonlight caught on the pink dusting the top of his ears.

His pose shifted lightly, in a way that made the space between the two of you feel almost nonexistent. Your instinct told you to move, but your feet didn’t move.

“You’re . . . really something, you know that?”

Your heart beat against the bones protecting your ribs so loud you swore he could hear it. The white lenses of his black mask flickered all over your face, almost like he wanted to memorize every delicate detail, like he wanted to count every lash on your eye individually.

“You barely know me.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but I think I’m starting to.”

No response made its way past your lips. It died at the base of your throat, and no one could rip it out of you.

His hand reached out in your peripheral vision, slowly, like he was giving you an option to stop him whenever you felt like. There was no force between you, just purity of the actions. When you didn’t stop him, he moved bolder and louder, long fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before brushing against the damp strands of your hair. He pushed it back behind your ear, his touch lingering even there.

You could feel his breath mingling with yours, becoming one.

And then, just as you felt the unmistakable pull towards him, Nightwing pulled away. He took a step back like he remembered who he was.

“Take care of that,” he nodded towards your hold that clutched your sketchbook.

You opened your to say something, anything because what the fuck was he doing when he jumped out of the bedroom window, leaving behind the what ifs if he stayed with you.

⋆.˚ 𓅆 . . .

The rooftop had become your favorite spot to disappear from your responsibilities. The view was magnificent with how the city stretched out in every direction and you could see everything. The chaos was muted up here, replaced by singing of the birds and occasional flutter of wings. This place was comforting.

You sat cross-legged on the concrete with your sketchbook propped in your lap, pencil in hand and mind open to new ideas. But the paper brewed alive with yet another drawing of a blue jay. Something about them had rooted itself in your head.

Pausing in your work to glance up at the sky, you were greeted by the most remarkable sight. Caught by the horizon where the sun dipped lower, brushing its streaks across the rooftop in a golden orange. The light breeze tugged at your hair, and you reached up to tuck it behind your ear. You managed to smudge a piece of graphite along your cheek upon the gesture. Your sketch was coming along slowly today; your mind kept wandering off and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched.

Which you were correct about.

“Nice view,” a familiar voice drawled.

You flinched upon the sound, nearly dropping the tools on your knees as you whipped your head toward the source. There he was, perched on the edge of the rooftop, the sunset behind him painting him like some sort of an angel. Nightwing.

“Seriously? Do you ever not sneak up on people?”

The cheeky smirk made its usual appearance on his lips when he hopped down from his spot, taking slow steps towards you. It was impossible to stay annoyed at him, with that face and easy charisma. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With a roll of your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile a little. “What are you even doing here?”

“Patrolling,” he replied casually to your question, just like he did the night he came to return your bag. Trying to act all nonchalant, but deep down he cares. You know that. He’s acting again. You could tell by the experience and by the tone of his voice. It suggested otherwise from his answer. His masked eyes shifted to your knees, noting the open book. “Another blue jay?”

“I’m trying to capture the way they look when flying. It’s harder than it seems.”

You watched him while he watched your drawings. The vigilante crouched down beside you, his knee bumping against yours softly, almost as in unsaid greeting. He was saying hello while you responded hi back. “You’re getting better.”

Silence draped over the two of you after that sentence left his throat, this one much more comfortable than the one you experienced the week before in your apartment. His elbows were resting on his knees, which bumped into yours from time to time in a silent gesture. Your eyes found the white lenses behind the domino mask.

“You’re not gonna disappear this time, are you?”

“No.”

Your sketchbook lay forgotten in your lap as you gazed into the void of his eyes. You couldn’t read the emotion in them but you somehow could tell every single feeling brewing inside him. It was written across his face, open like a book.

“You’re staring,” you whispered.

“So are you,” his reply was quick, like he knew exactly what to say the moment you spoke up.

A faintest tug at your lips brought the corners up in a smile, but it faltered the moment he leaned in, taking up your personal space inch by inch. He was moving slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away, to reject him and his touch if you wanted to. But you didn’t.

His palm hovered near the curve of your cheekbone close enough to feel the warmth seeping through the glove. He cocked his head slightly to the side, as if silently asking you a question he was too caught up in to say aloud.

“You’ve got graphite on your cheek.”

“Do I?”

He brushed his thumb across the smudge, wiping it away. He didn’t pull away once your skin was clean.

You noticed the way his eyes briefly dropped to your lips before flicking back to meet yours, searching for an answer he so desperately wanted to hear.

If you didn’t want this, he’d pull back. You knew he would.

But you didn’t want him to.

Leaning in, you closed the little distance between you, and that was all the answer he needed. His lips met yours firmly, pressing against yours like a puzzle, like they belonged there. Your hands gripped at him, fingers moving to the base of his neck to grab a handful of his black hair and pulling slightly to deliver a message.

Although the darkness around you enveloped you, clothing the day in dark, you felt a spark of light every time his lips pressed against yours more urgently, licking and biting his way inside to get a taste of you. You felt it when his gloved hands tangled in your hair, tugging you impossibly close to make you his.

His forehead came to rest against yours when you eventually had to pull away for a fresh breath of air, both his and your breaths uneven.

“Tell me I’m not gonna regret this.”

“You won’t.” That was a promise.

Because when you’re lost in the darkness, you should look for the light.

[official-sonic-team]

my suggestion for a oneshot would be sonic and knuckles having a heart to heart about what sonic's appearance on the ruin walls meant for knuckles growing up alone

“Ah ha! Found you!”

Knuckles jerks back into a fighting stance, spines prickled, fists raised. Intruders rarely managed to get past the defense system, so this one must be a large threat to have evaded every single one, and manage to sneak up on him!

“Woah-ho! Did I manage to sneak up on the great guardian of Angel Island and it’s precious Master Emerald?”

Knuckles relaxes. It’s just this jerk again. “Sonic, I told you to warn me before you showed up. One of these days you’re going to get skewed on one of my traps and I’m going to laugh at you.”

“You’re just mad that I’m too fast for any of those traps to catch me!”

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“Oh, you always seem to be down here.”

Here was the hidden palace. The dilapidated ruin had been long rumored to have been the home of the chief of the Knuckles clan for generations before their ruin. It was one of the better preserved pieces of architecture on Angel Island, and Knuckles had spent many lonely nights beneath the roof of this place, when rain or snow or other temperamental weather shooed him from his usual shrine.

“What does that mean?” Knuckles mutters, feeling oddly defensive. It was sometimes odd to be reminded that his friends noticed his habits, his behaviors. Even after all this time, it was strange to be perceived, to know that people thought of him even when he wasn’t around. 

“Just noticed that you tend to hole away here whenever you’re not at the main shrine.” Sonic shrugs. “I don’t get the appeal, personally. Would much rather be outside, napping under the sun.”

“I don’t nap. I’m a vigilant guardian of the most sacred and powerful artifact man has ever learned the existence of.”

“Uh huh,” Sonic teases. “Right. And I’m the king of the Kingdom of Acorn.”

“Oh, shut it!”

Knuckles turns away from him, back to facing the mural he had been studying. Perhaps that had been a bad move, for it reminded him of his earlier thoughts. The mural of a blue creature surrounded by gold attacking a mustached creature who had captured the Master Emerald. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, I wanted to make sure I knew how to fly a plane. Borrowed the Tornado, did a few barrel rolls, and realized I was nearby.”

Knuckles snorts. “Is it borrowing if the plane was originally yours?”

“Oh, you and I both know it belongs to Tails. Even if I wanted it back, he’s not going to be letting go of it anytime soon.” Sonic hums, placing his hands behind his head as he stands directly next to Knuckles. “What do you do down here, anyway? Feels like you’re always here.”

Knuckles frowns. “I… like to reread the ancient scripture that accompanies these murals. I’ve read them a thousand times already, but… I suppose it just helps me feel connected to my ancestors.”

Sonic hums. “So the Knuckles Clan made this?”

Knuckles crosses his arms. “Yes. It’s a similar style to many of their other carvings.”

“Do you think there’s anything on this island that once belonged to the Ancients?”

That was certainly a thought Knuckles had chewed on for a long while. When he had been a child on this island, and had begun to properly hone his skills in artifacts and manuscripts, he had noticed parts of Angel Island’s ruins often appeared… mismatched. He simply assumed there had been a civilization before the echidnas that lived on this island, who may have even inspired the echidnas in their own culture and religion. The statues in Hydrocity, for instance, had always bothered him as being stylistically different than much of the other stylized statues the Knuckles Clan would create, and he wondered on occasion if they influenced the mural they were currently staring at.

“There’s a lot of ancient technology on this island. I’ve always wondered how the Knuckles Clan could have possibly created it if the god of Chaos had detested them so much. And they had sworn to protect the Master Emerald so no one could make the same mistakes as them… it always felt counterintuitive for them to be using it’s power for their own gain, even if its a harmless one.”

Sonic whistles. “Interesting.”

It clearly wasn’t. Knuckles had long ago tried to explain the intricacies of archeology and treasure hunting to Sonic, but he was firmly uninterested in the subject. No thrashing and bashing? No dice. If Knuckles talked for too long, Sonic would dip out from the conversation and disappear.

Knuckles turns his attention to the mural. He was taking a big leap with this one, but… Part of him was itching to scratch Sonic’s brain about this. “This was my favorite mural, growing up.”

“Oh?”

“Much of the inscription is lost to time and erosion. But what I can make out details a great hero coming to save the world.” Knuckles takes a deep breath. “It had meant a lot to me as a child alone on this island, to think that someone might one day come to save…” This felt to vulnerable to admit, to finish the lingering me he was going to add. “... the Master Emerald, and I would no longer be alone.”

Knuckles chances a glance at Sonic. His expression remains neutral, his eyes centered on the blue figure in the mural. His foot wasn’t tapping, however, which meant he hadn’t been testing Sonic’s patience with something so mushy. There’s a chance he might get a dialogue opened between them.

Ever since Knuckles was a child and had figured out to read, this mural had been one he spent as much time as he could near. Many of the other murals and stories were of tragedy, for the Echidnas had been cast out from the rest of society by their own greed, and were determined to never let their mistake befall them again. And, too, their species began to dwindle, and a hopelessness someday settled deep in their bones, and within their stories.

Knuckles couldn’t blame them for their sorrow. What befell the Knuckles Clan was a tragedy that would lead to their own extinction over one mistake. It was sometimes a bit much for Knuckles to bear, to know that he was the last of his kind, all because of Pachacamac’s lust for power. 

And that’s what made this mural so enchanting to a young child. To see a hero valiantly fighting against an invader, protecting his home, saving his people, saving himself. He dreamed, many times as a child, that this hero would come and rescue him. That the duty of protecting the Master Emerald would no longer be his, that the sins of his forefathers would be paid, and Knuckles's bondage would be broken. Knuckles would be free to live life how he wanted, for there was someone who would be able to keep his home safe. 

It wasn’t quite the case, in the end.

Someone blue and bright and heroic showed up on his island one day when he was twelve to defeat an invader stealing his emerald. An annoying, aggravating, irritating eleven year old boy who toted around a four year old sidekick. Some kid younger than him who made immature and crude jokes and was thoroughly uninterested in the island and it’s history and the emerald beyond keeping it free from Robotnik’s hands. 

Oh, twelve year old Knuckles’s blood boiled at the very thought of that blue prick who appeared on his island one day and turned his entire life upside down.

“My ancestors say it’s supposed to be a prophecy,” Knuckles carefully added. 

That receives a derisive snort from Sonic.

“Do you really believe in that?” Sonic asks. 

“It came true,” Knuckles murmurs. 

And it did, in ways Knuckles couldn’t quite comprehend at twelve years old, but knew well at sixteen. For Sonic, in his irritating, antagonizing, stupid way… still did manage to save Knuckles’s life.

He defeated Dr. Robotnik that day, casting himself in a cocoon of gold and Chaos, destroying Robotnik’s machines and returning the Master Emerald back to Angel Island. And beyond that, it was Sonic who became Knuckles’s true first friend, who taught him how there was more to life than just guarding the Master Emerald, that he could balance his duty and his desires and still live a fulfilling life. 

Perhaps no hero had swept in and took away his duty. But Knuckles was still grateful nonetheless for what Sonic had taught him, even if he’s never truly managed to tell him. 

“Do we even know it was predicting that fight on Angel Island four years ago?” Sonic clicks his tongue. “Why would they bother predicting that fight, anyway? It’s not even the most interesting thing we’ve seen. I mean, why not predict Perfect Chaos re-emerging? Or the End? Or Eggman breaking apart the entire Earth for Dark Gaia? It’s not important, in the grand scheme of things.”

“Of course it’s important!” Knuckles snaps. 

Sonic blinks. Knuckles grinds his teeth. 

He shouldn’t be surprised. Sonic had been going on countless adventures even before the Angel Island adventure. Let alone everything he had seen afterwards. Why would the most important moment of Knuckles’s life mean anything to him, in the end? What importance could it possibly have when it was just a routine battle to stop Eggman? When he had fought greater and mightier powers than just Eggman’s insatiable greed and some plucky twelve year old guardian of an empty home and a powerful emerald?

Sonic looks back at the mural, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t believe in destiny, fate, or whatever. I’ve never liked the idea that someone else was pulling my strings. Some people find it a comforting thought, to know that everything happens for a reason. I like to think I make my own choices.”

A silence passes between them.

“I made my choice that day, to chase after Robotnik and show up on this island. I think that us choosing to meet is much nicer than thinking we were fated to.”

Knuckles turns to face Sonic, who’s still peering at that mural.

“I chose to come here, to fight you, to eventually help you. To face down Eggman and bring the Master Emerald back. And I’ve chosen every subsequent meeting as well. So believe, perhaps, that that day was fated, foretold, or whatever. But every moment after hasn’t been. And I think that’s much more interesting.”

Knuckles is quiet. The day they met had been the most infuriating day of his life. But it wasn’t entirely the day that he was saved. It was every subsequent day after, when the two of them crossed paths, when Sonic and his rivalry turned into mutual respect, into friendship. It was a cataclysm, an explosion, and in the rubble the two began to build something Knuckles can not name but knows it to be worth more than gold.

Knuckles turns away rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll never understand you, Sonic.”

“Ha! Now, are we done with this boring conversation?” Sonic taps his foot. Knuckles’s time has run out. “What do you think about me taking you on a flight?”

“Ugh, no way! I’ve seen you fly a plane before, I know you do too many barrel rolls.”

Sonic's eyes sparkle with mischief. “Oh? And you can’t handle a little bit of turbulence? To think you call yourself a great guardian!”

“Bah! I can handle anything you throw at me.”

“Challenge accepted!” Sonic grabs his hand and Knuckles braces himself for a super sonic sprint. “I think our group is ready to board! Let’s go!”

To think this was the same person his people had once written a prophecy for. 

[enhaeil]

SOON AS I GET HOME! ☆ 박종성

"soon as I get home, I'll make it up to you. baby, i'll do what i gotta do."

soon as i get home - faith evans.

c/w: suggestive!! yet extremely soft. husband jay...wow i love jay

you had a good man. an amazing man even. the best man a woman could ask for. and you've been neglecting him.

when he tries to hug you, it only lasts for a second before you push him away. when he tries to give you a kiss, you barely reciprocate back. when he tries to initiate sex, you brush him off, telling him you're "too tired" to be touched. it's noticeably put a bit of a strain on your marriage, and you feel guilty.

you decide it's time to ignite the fire in your marriage again. remind jay why he married you in the first place. since he's always busy with work and so are you, you decided you would call off work the next day and spend it planning something special.

you hop out the tub and wrap a towel around you before starting your hair and makeup. you decided to wear it down because you remembered how much jay liked it. for makeup, you go with a natural glam with some red eyeshadow.

—

you slip into the lingerie and dress you bought, buckle up your heels, and check yourself out in the mirror one more time. "yup. i still got it." you say to yourself before you head downstairs.

the time is currently 6:30. jay is already off work and is probably on his way back. you use this time to set the food up and pour up some wine. you also lay out some chocolates and light some scented candles. and of course, you had some old school jams playing in the back. lord, if he didn't put a baby in you tonight, it'd be a pretty close call.

as time gets closer, you decide to hide behind the wall so when he walks in, you can suprise him.

around 7:02, you hear some keys jingle and the door opening.

"baby, i'm home. i got some take-out if you're hungry. baby..?"

you can't help but feel your heart swell at your husbands voice. even through your dry spell, he's so sweet. you take this as an opportunity to step out.

"hi jjongie.."

his mouth opens so wide you're scared a moth might fly out of it.

"do you like it..?" he gave you a look as if you just asked the silliest question on earth.

"baby. like it? 'like it' would be disrespectful. you look amazing, y/n."

you giggle and help him take off his work jacket, giving his shoulders a soft massage, feeling the tenseness from his shift today. his head tips back with a sigh. "did i forget something today, love?" he says, trying to scan his mind for any event that could've happened.

you grab his hand and drag him into the kitchen where all the food is prepared. "you're my husband. and I've been neglecting you. so i wanted to show my appreciation for all you do." you say pulling out a chair for him.

"baby...you don't neglect me. we've both been busy with work." he says still holding on to your hand.

"still. when's the last time we had sex, jay?"

"a few days ago, right?" he says trying to see where you're going with this.

"exactly! remember? when used to go at it like animals? one day out of the week would've scared us a few years ago." you say with a small giggle. "now eat up. i dont want the food to get cold!"

you guys spend some time talking about your week and enjoying the meal you made. it felt so nice to have this moment with your husband. you guys rarely ever got to eat real meals together.

"wow, y/n. you really went all out." he says finishing his last bite.

"there's leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry again." you say getting ready to put the dishes in the sink.

he stands up, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "how could i ever repay you?"

you turn around and give him a look. "jay. you have been the most perfect man since the day i met you. i can't remember the last time i touched a door or a bill since our first date. you've done more than enough." you say pressing a peck on the corner of his mouth.

you dry off your hands before you turn back to him. "now, I have one more surprise for you upstairs. come on~" you say excitedly before dragging him up the stairs.

you finally make it to your bedroom and point his attention towards the bag in the middle of the bed. in it was a new cologne, a new tie and jewelry. as he opens the bag you dash into the bathroom to take off that tight dress and reveal what was underneath.

"baby, you didn't have to get me any of this. i'm so grateful, thank you. god, this is so cool." he says, examining his new items.

you finally step out the bathroom, heels still clicking as you call out his name.

he brings his attention up and his mouth is left open for the second time that night.

has he seen your body in ways you wouldn't even think was possible? yes. but everytime he did it felt like the first time.

you slowly make your way towards him before he reaches out his hands to touch you as if you'd dissappear right in front him.

"wow, i married a goddess. even years later you still make me feel like a teenage boy."

your eyes begin to water at his words and his touches, feeling like it's been an eternity since you've been touched like this. your hands begin to roam his body too, feeling underneath his shirt and caressing his stomach, your fingertips grazing the roughness of his happy trail.

"i love you jay. and i'll do whatever i can to make up for time we might've lost." you say leading him towards the bed so you can straddle him.

"we've grown a lot since we started dating, y/n. it's okay if sometimes we are too busy to do things with eachother. but even if we go months without touching eachother, i promise i'll always love you the same way I did back then."

and with that, he pulls you into a kiss, which leads into a night full of passionate lovemaking.

a/n: im foaming at the mouth.

[procyonloser]

Adam didn't know what to say, how to react, or what to do - nothing could have prepared him for this. Upon his creation, many things were confusing, strange, befuddling, and upon his removal from Eden, he got a taste of how the world could sting.

But nothing, nothing could have prepared Adam for walking into Lute's condo and finding a body pillow with him on it.

She turned fifty shades of gray and stammered over her words, trying to defend the purchase. She hadn't ordered it, she said. She got it from Peter.

'Peter dating my son, Peter', Adam had asked her, to silence, as Lute broke out a window to jump out of an fly away.

Adam looked down at the pillow, it was his normal outfit. He turned it over and found art of himself face down, ass up, with a little bunny tail.

Nope. He burned it right to hell.

Adam tracked down Peter next, who smiled upon seeing him, then turned pale as he realized Adam wasn't happy. He tried to escape, but Adam was quicker and larger than him. Peter turned bright red when Adam slammed him up against a wall, letting out a small moan that made his skin crawl.

'Explain the fucking pillow,' Adam snarled in his face.

And Peter did.

They hadn't been made in heaven, which was less shocking - they'd been made in hell, but Peter didn't know who by. He just found a truck load, and apparently there was a line around the block to pick one up. Why people wanted a pillow of Adam in a slutty pose, Adam had no idea. He was a badass exorcist alpha male rock legend, not some bitch.

Peter said as far as he knew, the pillows had come out of the Greed ring. Which Adam wasn't supposed to go to. He wasn't allowed there. It wasn't part of the agreement, he wasn't supposed to upset the heirarchy in the hellborn by reminding them all they were nothing compared to him a human soul.

Adam went anyway.

He found one of Mammon's factories, and felt stunned silent for the second time in one day. There wasn't just one pillow of him in production, there was an entire series of them, and some were blatantly pornographic. He was happy they gave him a totally accurately sized huge dick, but he wasn't as thrilled with the things that were up his ass or down his throat in half the pillows.

Technically, he wasn't allowed to kill hellborns, but he was allowed to pull the fire alarm and then blow the whole place to smithereens.

Flying home, he had to pass through Pride, where he was quick to run into the face he hated most.

Lucifer hung in the sky, arms crossed, horns high.

'Mammon told me what you did, you know we have cameras now, right?' Lucifer asked tiredly, and Adam just parroted him mockingly, before telling him to get the fuck out of the way. 'No, you can't just attack the private property of one of my people, my sins, without answering for it. Those sex dolls cost Mammon a lot to produce.'

Adam stared, and stared.

'... Dolls? I burned down the body pillows.'

Lucifer froze, nervously laughing. 'That's what I meant, of course. Pillows. Right. That's all he's made of you.'

Adam decided in that moment all sinners must die.

[voraciouspangolin]

Thread of my second read through The Days Have Worn Away

his stupid smile . I want to put him through a food processor

ok one of them came out wearing an eyepatch i think soldier got cheated on and zhanna had a kid with demo

he proposed with a grenade. and. and he pulled the pin and put the ring on zhanna's finger. and threw the grendade

tbh I fear for the person who becomes the centre of her devotion next

she is willing and ready to use her powers for evil

new sniper lore dropped too. He can fly bush planes

hes so real for this

i think these are the team classic characters... There's a plaque missing on the stone statue at the bottom, I wonder what was on it.

I like how everyone at… Administrator HQ is wearing purple

So earlier we got miss pauling's first name initial, f. Pauling.... so this is a confirmation that her name starts with F, and she's on first name basis with engie. Flo- like, Florence? Florida?

This might be a stretch but I think that these paintings on the wall, I think they're like, the BEST of the best mercernaries of their respective class. Pyro is looking at a hard to make out person surrounded by flames, and demo is looking at a high tech looking demoman

look at all these stupid idiots. i love them

she's SO done dude. SO DONE

also this whole thing. Love the detail that spy is checking his watch pompously . and how everyone else is lined up waiting for them to continue walkign

And this one... god, that smile she gives scout. The way scout beams

The art in this comic has improved so so much, its absolutely gorgeous. The way its layed out, the emotion it conveys without needing dialogue.... magnificent. I like how Miss P's undone hair shows itself as more messy. She's at her wits end- she's past the point of anxiety, past the point of tightening and adjusting her hair so that no strand sticks out.

I think this is the most creature like I've seen pyro and I'm so here for it. E's got eyebrows over the mask lol. Also medic's stupid ass tippy toeing to see over heavy

I love the placement of this context we're getting for how Helen became involved with the Manns. It immediately makes you think to the place where The Naked and The Dead ended, with Helen fully perked up on the final bits of australium she had. Yet its a look into the past

big fan of this painting. Three rifles... and these book titles. So silly i love it

New competitor for Most eyebrows, Zepheniah has two eyebrow spikes, beating medics mere one spike

A whole graveyard of Manns.... I like the one thats just a giant M. Really hammering in the notion that the Mann last name is an identity of immense value, that takes over your whole life. oh, and that panel before the final one, its so full of tension... so good

And here's the actual moment we get to see her in all her insanity. What a woman. I like that the screens all face him, constantly displaying the products of redmond's and blutarch's failure to follow the family line of succession. His eyelids constantly forcefully open, unable to speak, yet his brain still processes the information his body is percieving. He's like if Mr House (fonv) had a dominatrix

me too, scout. me too

big fan of how heavy's eyes are the only ones that are dots

her and miss pauling both, they share the Devotion, the ability to pour their entire beings and lives into one single thing

I bet that thing felt like jerky. who said that

Absolute cinema. Amazing. Magnificent. Wonderful. No notes

[steddieas-shegoes]

lonely christmas

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'alone'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated t | 526 words | cw: angst | tags: flashback, pre-steddie, wayne munson is a gift, could be read as steve pov to this

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Steve calls Wayne.

It’s almost Christmas, and he doesn’t know if Eddie is gonna make it home, and he doesn’t want Wayne to feel alone.

He could call Eddie and ask but…well, he can’t call Eddie.

They haven’t spoken in so long, it would feel weird for him to call just to ask if he was going home. If Eddie wanted him to know, he’d know.

Wayne is his usual self, complaining about everyone being so fussy about his injury, wishing Steve could visit, giving the same speech he did last week and the week before and the-

“You know, it would mean the world to me if ya came to visit for Christmas,” he says. It hits Steve right in the gut, in a special place he’s started calling the Munson Corner. They’re the only ones who can leave bullet wounds behind. “I know it’s last minute, but if you could get out here, I’d love to have ya.”

Steve hems and haws, laughs about never finding a flight in time that would actually take off. Wayne lets him repurpose the same excuses he’s used for months.

“Alright, well I best be off to bed. You call me on Christmas Day, or I’ll fly to you.”

Steve agrees because he doesn’t think Wayne’s joking. The man hates flying, but he’ll do it to prove a point. Stubborn as a mule.

When he hangs up, the silence in his apartment is deafening. There’s a blanket of dirty snow on the ground, and there’s clouds in the sky letting him know there’ll be more when he wakes up.

The faucet in the kitchen is dripping again, but the landlord didn’t seem too concerned about it last time Steve reported it. Maybe he won’t care until the winter’s over and the pipes are no longer at risk of freezing.

His music has been paused for an hour, even before he called Wayne to check in. He doesn’t think pressing play will help curb the ache in his chest.

There’s no noise coming from across the hall, which is a clear sign that the kids are being put to bed or everyone’s still out. The twins are usually playing wall ball in the hallway until bedtime, but today was suspiciously silent.

The only light on is the one above the oven and the lamp beside his couch.

He opens his call log on his phone and scrolls. He knows the exact date he last spoke to Eddie on the phone. He knows exactly how long the call was without even looking at the record.

He knows how difficult it was to hang up with the sinking feeling in his stomach that it would be the last time they spoke.

His finger hovers over the call button.

Eddie might answer. He might not. He might be happy to hear from him, or he might tell him to never call again.

The faucet drips. A door closes down the hall. A light outside flickers as it turns on, illuminating the empty street below.

Steve’s gotten used to being alone.

But he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to being lonely.

[ushiko]

every season i fall more in love with you

synopsis: experience each season with nanami right by your side

pairing: nanami x fem! reader

word count: 2.3k

winter with nanami are spent with a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands while the fireplace glows with a burning wick of vanilla in the corner. nanami sat in his reading chair with his latest novel lying in his lap as his eyes shifted over the lines. your eyes shift over every so often as the light of the fireplace reflects off his chiseled face. it only brought out the features that you loved most about nanami. his warm hazel shined brighter under the golden fire light bringing a certain buzz to your heart. his skin looked as soft as your favorite blanket that of course nanami bought for you last Christmas. made you want to snuggle him even more.

“dear , you are staring,” nanami said as his eyes shifted over to you. he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you get bashful of being caught. he could see the small color on your cheeks and the warmth flooding your face. he watched your lips form in a small pout as your eyes barely met his.

“was not,” you mumble with your arms crossing your chest.

a light chuckle crosses his lips as he watches you shift your blanket higher on your lap and focus completely on the movie playing on the screen. he shakes his head at your bashfulness but feels that his heart would burst at how cute you are. He shut the book on his lap, shifting his way next to you on the couch. Your eyes barely glance his way as he sits beside you with his arms lying on the backside of the couch.

“sweethearttttt, look at me,” he drags on in a whisper with his lips touching the shell of your ear. feeling the heat of your face touch, his lips as they stretch into a smile as he feels your body unknowingly shift toward him. Your backside was a hair away from his chest, so to take up the space, Nanami wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you to his chest.

“nanami!”

“what? I just wanted you close to me dear. Something wrong with that ?” He smugly asks as his smirk touches your cheek. He plants a small kiss on your temple as you shift in his lap.

“no, never,” you mumble as you lay your hand on his chest and head on his shoulder. a smile spreads wildly on his lips as you moved the blanket to reach over his lap. these were his favorite nights when you two forget about the dreadful world outside and just focus on each other. the only sounds that could be heard were the crackle of the amber fire and the sound of home alone filing your home walls. nanami wraps his arms around you tightly as you snuggle into his neck. pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head, nanami felt his worries melt away with the slow beat of your heart warming his body and all woes of winter melt away.

spring with nanami are spent in the park watching the birds fly nest to nest as you watch the trees glow and turn green as the winter melts away. new life is brought into the world as a small ring sits on your left hand which came into the world the winter by the fire and candlelight. Nanami shyly proposed in the soft morning light on Christmas morning with the ring tied to the new puppy he bought to keep you company while he was away on missions. you almost missed the ring as your eyes were solely focused on the cute puppy in front of you and pressing kisses to nanami’s face. till the puppy’s collar scratched you that you realize the ring attached. and now you sit on the wooden bench on a bright sunny morning watching as the clouds shift and nanami plays with bubbles in the park.

your eyes shift down to the ring wrapped in your finger feeling your lips lift up as you think about the man who gave it to you. you actually met nanami in the spring which makes it your favorite season. It was the season when everything changed and became new. The season brought warm smiles and the blossoming of a young love. Shared laughs were loudly passed between nights spent under the glowing lights and falling flowers. he held your held on your strolls through the park as you spoke of your future and what you want in life. spring held a special place in your heart as it was the season you fell in love with the simple blonde man who loved soft sweets and bread fresh from the bakery.

“dear are you alright ?” nanami’s voice broke you out of your trance as he stood next to you with bubbles laying quietly in the ground near your feet. you shake your head and scratch bubbles head as your heart warms thinking about how magical the rest of your life will be.

“I’m alright. Just thinking about how special spring is,” you reflect as nanami sits next to you with an hand on your back.

“spring is very special dear. it’s the season of new and life growing. it’s also the season I fell in love with you. the season my life changed for the better.”

tears prick your eyes as you shift your body to face his shining face. he wore his sunglasses today as the sun shined brightly on his face but you could still see his hazel eyes looking lovingly into yours. your heart bursts with warmth as a smile spreads across his lips with his hand grabbing your left that had the small green emerald on a silver band placing a peck on the ring.

“are you ready for the rest of spring love ?”

“more than you know. maybe next spring we will have one more to join our favorite season.”

spring was truly your favorite.

summer with nanami are spent taking all the vacations that you worked overtime for to get that PTO. it was also time for nanami to get the rest that he deserved. he had been working overtime that he hated in order to take the summer off to prepare for the new joy coming into your world in the next few months. You were barely showing but Nanami loved to see you show on your bump in the bikini that he chose for you. Showed everyone that you were his and that your family had finally begun. the family he thought he would never get. not until he met you. he knew as soon as he met you that he wanted everything he swore that he never wanted. a house full of little running feet and a dog who chews on everything. the little ones looking mostly like you since you hold all the beauty and have your sense of heart. he couldn’t wait to meet them.

this was also the time for the perfect image of a sunset wedding. you both decided to go off on your own and wed with no worries about anyone else. That’s what summers were for. They are for having no worries about the world around. Nanami didn’t care about a grand ceremony or reception unless it was something you wanted. But you both knew in your heart that this moment together finally joining the two of you together was just meant for you and Nanami.

“my love can you bring the sunscreen?” you ask nanami drawing him out of his mindless thoughts.

“Of course dear. Do you want some on your back?”

“Yes please!”

you lean forward on your towel as Nanami sits behind you. He presses a small kiss to your nape which makes you giggle before he squirts of sunscreen on your back.

You both bask in the silence as you listen to waves crash loudly on to the shore and the children giggling loudly in the background. your eyes shift over to them as your watch a small boy and his father build a sand castle together and another small boy and his mother build another right beside.

“You know that will be us someday, right? We will take them here every summer as pass down our memories and stories to them,” Nanami says quietly as he continues to rub on your back eventually rubbing some on your swollen stomach as his arms wrap around.

you sigh happily, “ I can’t wait to show them our favorite ice cream place! They are definitely going to think my flavor is the best! Oh! And show them how to find shark teeth!”

Nanami laughs loudly and he has you lean back on to him so he can spread more lotion.

“ of course dear but i will have you know they will think my flavor is the best.”

You gasp, “ they will not ! Orange sickle is the best for the summer not mint chocolate chip.”

He laughs more as his hands began to tickle your sides which causes small giggles to fly out of you. the sand between your toes begin to shake you squirm on the towel from nanami’s fingers.

summers are for warm memories and sound of silence as every worry slips away into the ocean and wind.

fall with nanami are spent pulling out the thick sweaters and autumn decor that was stored in the upstairs closet.

you brought in the fall spices as you both brought in the bags from the multiple stores that you dragged Nanami to. not that he would ever complain. his hands were going to be sore tomorrow but he could never say no to a smile like yours. he also knew these next couple of months were going to be difficult as your belly has gotten bigger almost making it harder for you to get comfortable. he would do anything to make sure these next couple weeks were easy for you he didn’t want you to feel one ounce of stress to hit your body. he set all the bags down on the floor as you rambled about all the new things you brought for the little one growing in you. Nanami leaned slowly against the counter as he stared at the way your smile reached the corner of your eyes. The way your nose scrunched as you remembered a moment that you weren’t fond of but was slowly washed away as you pulled out more from the bags surrounding you.

“ken, do you think we bought too much? what is we wasted money buying all this?” you asked loudly placing your hands on the apple of your cheeks.

Nanami slowly moved beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist. he rubbed small circles on your stomach as you leaned your head back on his shoulder. pressing a small kiss to your temple, Nanami could feel your shoulder relax with a loud breath leaving your lungs as he rounded his hands under your stomach to relieve your back of some weight.

“don’t worry about that dear. we will save it for the other ones,” he whispers mockingly in your ear. Your eyes widen with you head snapping toward his. He let out a chuckles watching the small line between your brows deepen.

“Ken! We haven’t had this one yet and you’re already thinking of more ?!” You explain softly to him.

he hums and continues holding onto your stomach as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. he loved the feeling of his skin touching yours, especially like this. He could feel the warmth of your skin as it held your bundle of joy the one person he would love as much as he loved you. he smiled into your neck and moved his hand on top of yours as they lay on your stomach. he could feel the little one move below your hands as his heart warmed at the feeling that was swarming his body. nothing could prepare him for the love that grew every day for you and the one he hasn’t even met yet. He didn’t think he could love you more but here he was falling more and more in love with you as every day passed.

“of course dear. nothing I would want more than to spend the rest of our lives together, growing a little family, and seeing you till you have grays in your hair. I have always wanted at least two but whatever you are comfortable with dear. Just want to show our love through a little family,” he whispers into your ear.

you sniffle as you think about the multiple feet pattering around the kitchen as you make pumpkin pancakes and let the kids play with the leaves. as Nanami begins bringing out the coats and help you decorate for Halloween. fall is time for slow, emotional moments that plant in your mind till the winter brings on the past, soulful moments.

“I want that too!” You cry loudly as your turn and sob into nanami’s shoulder. He chuckles and pats the back of your head. He smiles into your hair and he thanks his lucky stars that he met you that spring morning on the way to his favorite bakery. Then falling in love with you as summer began to blister down with fall bringing you two closer as he brought you more into his home with you making your way into his heart. by winter you were in his home adding your love into each corner on the walls till it was filled with enough that is could burst.

this winter a new session of seasons with come and go but the love will stay and grow even as the ground grows cold. you and Nanami will never grow cold as long as the fire in your heart burns like the amber that burns in the fireplace every winter.

✿ ushiko inc. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, repost on any social media, or plagiarize

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[anotherjheastan]

Another Complicated Love Story

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

Chapter 4 | Masterlist

CW none

Chapter 5: Power Trip

Would you believe me if I said I'm in love? Baby, I want you to want me

Would you believe me if I said I'm in love? Baby, I want ya

And we are we are we are, got me up all night

And we are we are we are, all I'm singin' is love songs

- Power Trip by J. Cole ft. Miguel

December 24, 2024

Jey woke up in his bed alone. He groaned as he stretched. He had slept terribly. He tried not to replay last night in his head, but it was hard: Rhea struggling to breath, screaming at him. They were supposed to fly back to Florida together, but they didn’t. Rhea switched her seat on the plane. He didn’t know he could feel so angry and so sad at the same time. That heat and cold flared up again and formed a tornado in his chest. He felt his eyes water, but he refused to cry again. He had cried at the arena worried about Rhea. Seeing her passed out broke something in him. The helplessness he had felt made him want to punch a hole in a wall. And he had cried on the plane. What had he done to make her not trust him? Or had she never trusted him? Maybe it was a good thing he never told her he loved her.

Jey took a quick shower and threw on some workout clothes. He went into the kitchen and his heart dropped. One of the gifts he had bought for Rhea was a coffee maker. It sat on the counter with a big red bow, a few bags of her favorite ground coffee next to it. He had bought it so she wouldn’t have to rush home to make her morning cup or pick up something she wouldn’t like as much. He had watched her at her place. He realized how much she liked the ritual of making it. She took her time with every step and savored the finished product. Jey didn’t drink coffee. It made him too jittery. But he wanted her to have a comfort here.

He sighed, making a mental note to return it after the holidays. He grabbed a bottle of water and headed back to his room. He thought about her other gift in his nightstand drawer with the note he had written. He heard his phone ping a couple of times. Then he heard it ring. He grabbed it. It was Jimmy. He declined the call and glanced at the messages. It was Jimmy and Naomi responding to his “Rhea and I are done” text. He really didn’t feel like talking about it. He had been looking forward to being with Rhea last night and giving her the gifts this morning so she could spend more time with her friend. Maybe he would pass along the coffee and the other gift to Naomi to give her. Maybe he would throw the note away.

He texted Jimmy, “Going to the gym. Talk after.”

He grabbed his car keys, threw on his hoodie, and headed out the door.

With rap music blasting in his ears, he lifted weights. He kept pushing Rhea out of his thoughts. Memories of her laugh, kisses, and love bites kept popping up. Then the memory of her pulling away from him popped up. Her angry screams echoed in his head. He pushed himself harder. He thought about last week when he got Rhea’s gift: a Cuban link chain bracelet with diamonds, similar to his. He had met up with Jimmy afterward.

“Oh that’s nice,” Jimmy said. “Yeah, she’s gonna love that, uce.”

“Yeah I can’t wait to see her reaction,” Jey said. “You know what else caught my eye in the jewelry store?”

Jimmy looked at him, skeptical. “I know you not talking about rings?”

“I’m talking about rings,” Jey said.

Jimmy sat back in shock. “I knew it was serious, but rings already?”

“I love her,” Jey said, shrugging. He was grinning. “I think she might be the one.”

“She said she loves you?” Jimmy asked.

Jey rubbed the back of his head and Jimmy sucked his teeth.

“I haven’t even said I love you to her, uce,” Jey said.

“Naomi is right. Y’all are trippin. Don’t tell her I said that,” Jimmy said. “But why not?”

“I’m waiting for the right time. I know she loves me though,” Jey said.

“How you know?”

Jey put his hand on his heart. “I can feel it.”

Jimmy shook his head. “You might wanna slow down there.��

“I can see it too,” Jey said. “The way I see it all over you and Naomi. But I can tell that now’s not the right time. I’m thinking about telling her on Christmas Eve when we exchange gifts. But I don’t know.”

“Be careful,” Jimmy said.

“With what?” Jey asked.

“Your heart, uce. You seem more sure than she is.”

“I’m used to waiting for her to catch up,” Jey said with a chuckle.

“I know, but this is different. This isn’t just a crush you’re talking about, uce. You want a commitment. You need to make sure she’s ready for that. Otherwise…”

“I need to let her go,” Jey said, finishing Jimmy’s thoughts.

He re-racked the dumbbells and shook out his arms before going to work out his legs. He hadn’t let Rhea go, but maybe it was best she stayed gone.

After the gym, he felt clear-headed. The rumbling in his chest had also died down. He reluctantly looked at his phone, not excited about returning Jimmy’s call. He could already hear Naomi chastising him. He figured she would side with her bestie Rhea.

Jey called Jimmy as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“What’s up, uce?” Jimmy asked.

“Nothing,” Jey replied.

“Something happened. What you mean y’all done?”

“Oh Naomi’s friend didn’t tell you what happened?”

“Oh she’s just Naomi’s friend now?”

“She ain’t nothing to me,” Jey said. He felt a pang in chest, but he ignored it.

“Jey, be forreal. What happened?” Jimmy asked, earnestly.

Jey told him what happened. Jimmy was quiet for a moment.

“Yeah that’s pretty much what she told Nae,” Jimmy said. “But did you tell her y’all were just talking about Waffle House and Christmas plans?”

“I never got a chance to tell her. She shut me down right away.”

“Damn. I’ll come over and check on you,” Jimmy said.

“Naw, I know y’all are getting stuff ready for Christmas. Don’t yall have people over?”

“Yeah a few, but they’ll be alright. You’re not alright,” Jimmy said.

“I’m fine,” Jey said.

“Jey,” Jimmy said, sternly.

“Alright, I’ll come over there.”

“Cool. I’m gonna give you an hour. If you’re not on the way over by then, I’m coming to you.”

“Bet,” Jey said, with a laugh.

“I’m serious, you know?”

“I know.”

“Love you, uce.”

“Love you.”

Jey arrived at Jimmy and Naomi’s an hour later, Rhea’s gifts in hand. Naomi gave him a big hug and reassured him that no matter what, he was still her brother. It made him feel better, knowing she was on his side. The three of them went into the sunroom to chat.

“I should have listened to her,” Jey said. “She told me she wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah I guess she’s still dealing with trauma from Dom? Damn, I hope I didn’t push her too hard,” Naomi said, rubbing her arms.

“No, I think she thought she was ready,” Jey said. “I wanted her to be ready too.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Jimmy asked.

“Nothing,” Jey said. “Naomi is gonna give her the gifts along with the stuff y’all got her. And that’ll be it.”

“Jey.”

“Jimmy.”

“Jey, you were just telling me how she might be the one.”

“We can’t be together if she doesn’t trust me.”

“So you’re just gonna give up?”

“It’s not on me, uce. She won’t even talk to me. Plus weren’t you the one saying to let her go if she wasn’t ready?”

“Would you talk to her though? If you could?” Naomi interjected.

Jey sighed. “Maybe.”

Jimmy smiled and Jey shook his head.

“Look, I know what I said,” Jimmy said. “But falling out over a misunderstanding ain’t it.”

“I can be a mediator for you two,” Naomi said. “I love you both and want what’s best for both of you. Even if that means y’all aren’t together.”

Jey pushed the sadness he was feeling down. It hurt, but not as much as Rhea pulling away from him. And he tried not to hate himself for missing her.

“When is she picking up gifts?” Jey asked.

“Thursday since we’re all supposed to be driving up to Jacksonville for the holiday show,” Naomi said.

“Fuck! I forgot,” Jey said.

“I mean, Rhea, Jessica, and I will be alright if you wanna drive by yourself,” Naomi said.

“Naw cuz the plan was to come back here Thursday night so we could chill the whole day Friday,” Jey said. “I don’t want y’all driving back late by yourselves.”

“Are you sure? We’re big girls, Jey,” Naomi said, smiling.

“Yes, he’ll ride with y’all,” Jimmy said. “Since I can't go anymore. Plus Rhea’s friend can’t help you drive.”

“I just don’t want drama in the car,” Naomi said, holding up her hands. “It’s not too long a drive, but still.”

“If she wants to come over to talk before we get on the road, I’ll hear her out.”

“Okay. I’ll let her know,” Naomi said.

Thursday, December 26

Jacksonville was only about 2 hours from them, but they wanted to get out there by noon. Rehearsal was at 2 pm. Jey spent Christmas at Jimmy and Naomi’s, a mix of their families there to celebrate. Rhea and her friend Jessica were coming over at 9 am, giving them an hour to talk before the four of them got on the road. He had been looking forward to meeting Jessica, but now he was nervous. He didn’t really know if Rhea was still angry. She hadn’t reached out to him at all. But he was glad she was talking to Naomi. That let him know she was okay.

At 9 am sharp, the doorbell rang. Jey was waiting in the sunroom out of the way. He started pacing, unsure of how to feel. Even if they made up, how would they move forward? Jey hadn’t only been thinking about whether she could trust him. He had been thinking about whether he could trust her.

Naomi opened the door and smiled at Jey. She stepped aside and Rhea walked in. Jey felt all the breath go out of him. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and was more gorgeous than ever. She had on an unzipped black hoodie, a white cropped t-shirt showing off her tattoos. Ripped blue jeans and black Vans finished her look. She was holding a Christmas gift bag in her hands. Rhea smiled, but Jey could tell she was nervous. Jey didn’t return her smile and she gripped the gift bag tighter.

“Can I leave you two alone?” Naomi asked.

“Yes,” they said simultaneously.

“Okay. I’ll be back at 10,” Naomi said. She shut the door behind her.

“Hi,” Rhea said, softly. She was still standing near the door.

“Hi,” Jey said matter-of-factly. He put his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants. Anger pushed away any affection he had been starting to feel. What they had was good. Why did she have to ruin it?

“Can we sit down?” Rhea asked.

“Yeah,” Jey said, sitting down.

Rhea sat on the other side of the couch, leaving some space between them. She put her gift bag in between them and rubbed her hands on her thighs. It was strange seeing her confidence shaken. She looked at him.

“I’m sorry for how I acted on Monday,” Rhea said slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I was wrong. I put my crap on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m starting therapy in January since I have unresolved emotions around…you know who. I don’t wanna put any more of my crap on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Jey nodded, taking it all in. It sounded good. It felt thoughtful, genuine. But he still had his pain and anger. And he was worried about getting hurt again.

“What happened…really hurt,” Jey started. “I care about you a lot. Trust is important to me. You have to trust me and I have to trust you. Right now, I don’t trust you.”

Rhea’s mouth twisted to the side. She blinked a few times and looked away from him. She took a deep breath and blew out a shaky breath. Jey ignored the urge to reach out and comfort her. She looked at him.

“I understand. And I will do everything in my power to earn your trust back. If…if you let me.” Rhea’s voice cracked at the end and a tear fell from her eye. She quickly wiped it away.

“We’ll see,” Jey said.

“Here’s your gift,” Rhea said, trying and failing to hold back more tears. She held out the bag to him. He took it, their hands brushing each other. He handed her her gift.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” Jey said.

Rhea stood up, wiping more tears away. “I’ll see you out there? Are we good for Jacksonville?”

Jey nodded. “We’re good.”

Rhea nodded and then quickly left. Jey was surprised at how quickly his tears fell. It was like he had been holding them back. He wiped his tears away. He looked in the gift bag: a PlayStation gift card, a Christmas card, an ugly Christmas pajamas and a Christmas onesie. He laughed at the sweater and onesie, certain Rhea had matching ones. He opened the card.

Thank you for changing the end of my year for the better. I never imagined I would be lucky enough to find someone as amazing, kind, thoughtful, caring as you. I never thought I’d be envisioning a future with someone so soon. But don’t people always that corny shit, “when you know, you know?” Well I guess it wasn’t just corny shit after all. And I should be brave and say this in person, but I love you. And I know it’s probably too soon, but I just wanted to let you know how I feel.

XOXO, Rhea.

Jey wiped away more tears and smiled, feeling some of his anger dissipate. She loved him too.

[shroomsssssssssssss]

sooooo wall-e Top Gun AU anyone..?

Hear me out just like clearly Mav would be partnered with walle- maybe like before humanity left they took volunteers to help clean up earth with the robots. Pete, with both his parents now gone, thinks why tf not? He’s taken in and like the only way I can think of him surviving that long is for him to be like genetically modified to extend his lifespan by ALOT and stop aging, so thats what happens in my mind lmao.  He says behind and gets paired with the Walle we know and adore with provisions and what not cuz he is still human

Bc  im not taking Mavs planes from him, he gets to fix up an old one and fly it I don’t make the rules) 

Ice is clearly NOT on earth and I would like to think that he’s one of the scouts with EVA. So he actually flys around space with her. He’s also been raised and “built” to keep up with her and be the perfect scout  :D 

Hurray for experimentation :D

Does that make sense? anyways we get to the main plot and ice and Eva come down. Mav and walle are clearly losing their shit. Walle cuz “omg pretty robot” and Mav because its literally been 700 years since he’s seen another person 

Ice and Eva are rightfully freaked tf out and go about they business like the bosses they are (mav and walle DO bother/annoy them but they also still have a job to do (not that they do it consistently, just look at them. Mav takes walle flying all the fucking time lmao) 

But little do they know what they’re looking for Mav literally HAS. You can’t tell me he wouldnt find that little plant and like care for it. He totally would cuz I said so. 

I just remembered the massive sand storms, so im thinking Ice and Eva are taken in by the boys and that’s where they find the little plant. (After like learning about each other cuz it would be cute) 

Of course Ice wants to take it back but Mav and walle demand that he take them with him  (“Ice, do you even know how to take care of a plant?” “…” “I didn’t fucking think so.”)

So Ice ofc takes them both (mav for sure ask to fly his space craft) 

So they get there and Mavs like blown away but also hella confused at like how everything is and “ice why tf are they so…..big??? Why is the food served in a cup? Wtf is happening rn?” 

Ofc this is where he also meets Goose (who could be like…idfk tbh. Maybe like an eng ineer???? OR HE AND MAV BOTH STAYED AND ICE BROUGH TH BOTH. THAT SOLVED MY PROBLEM OF OTHER VOLUNTEERS. THE BRADSHAW FAMILY ARE TJE OTHERS THAT STAYED. FUCK YEH.)

They hit it off IMMEDIATELY much to ice’s displeasure. 

FUCK I JUST RELIZED MAV WOULD BE LIKE ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHAT EARTH WAS LIKE BEFORE THEY LEFT HOLY FUCK. 

[ilysungho]

Can I request 59 with Sungho?🙈

a/n: my face when i saw this in my inbox -> 😀; not really sure about who is sub and dom here so imagine it as you want <3 wc: 0.8k contains: switch!sungho x switch!reader, blowjob, throat fucking, sungho implied to be an idol, established relationship (bf, gf), sungho takes pictures of you, lowercase intended, prompts italicized

hair tugging while fighting for dominance, your lips danced with your boyfriend’s in the elevator up to your apartment. sungho's one hand tugged at your hair, the other gripping your waist as if you’ll run away if he let go. your own hands messed up his beautifully styled hair as you moaned into his mouth when he bit your bottom lip. your tongues played together now as he towered over you, pushing you against the cold metal of the machine.

“you look so good like this, i need you styled like this more often.” you croaked out between kisses. releasing your grip from his hair, you reached down to palm him over his forming bulge.

ding!

the elevator opened up to your floor, kisses still being hungrily shared, and you fumbling with the keys to enter into your place. shoes were kicked off of both your feet, walking inside and slamming the door shut. your hands searched for his fly, unzipping it and moving his boxers over to touch his cock directly. he moaned under your touch, his deep voice replacing the room’s silence.

“baby—shit—i don’t think i’m gonna make it to the bed like this.”

you breathed heavily as the kiss broke off, a string of saliva connecting you both. “it's ok.” you push sungho against the wall, getting on your knees as his hand pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you kissed his red tip, earning a heavy groan from the man you loved. your tongue then licked a stripe up from his base to his tip, his lips sputtering out words of praise needily. he threw his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling your mouth around his dick now. you sucked him, hard and fast like the kisses had been, rubbing his abdomen under the shirt to busy your hands.

sungho continuously moaned as you were taking his length into your mouth, slowly but surely. every suck was followed by your tongue brushing against his slit as best as you could, his precum coating the insides of your mouth. your hands wrapped around his clothed thighs for extra support, squeezing them every time he pulled at your hair.

taking in more of him, you felt the tip reach the back of your throat. choking a bit on his thick cock, you moaned against it. the vibrations made sungho let out a cry you rarely hear from him, making you feel even needier. you bobbed your head up and down his length as he softly rutted into your mouth. he couldn't control his hips, feeling completely lost in the pleasure you gave him. the room echoed back everything coming out from his throat and your mouth, the lewd noises sounding too loud to the point where passersby outside your front door could hear it all. but, neither of you cared enough to move further inside the apartment.

your mouth let go of his dick with a pop, hands now taking over to rub sungho's shaft as you kiss his thighs and balls. he bit his lips as he looked down at you and pulled out his phone to take a picture of his cock drunk girlfriend. you look up at him as he's taking the picture and smile as you wrap your lips around his cock once again. your eyes don't leave his as you hear him hiss at the contact once again.

breathing heavily as he put his phone away, sungho took a hold of your hair. "tap my thigh if it's too much."

you blinked at him to confirm you heard him, his hands tightening the grip on you as he thrust into your mouth. he groaned with every thrust as he felt the back of your throat. you closed your eyes, tears welling up and your hands gripping on his thighs tighter. the movements led sungho closer to his release, leaving you anticipating for it. he kept using your mouth, not saying anything apart from your name between moans and groans.

he quickened his pace as he got closer, looking at your face now with his mouth agape. his eyes were lustful as he hit the back of your throat one last time before shooting his load inside. sungho shook slightly as your tears came out of your eyes while he wiped them with his thumbs. letting go of his dick, you opened your mouth for him to see. he breathed heavy once again, seeing you look so pretty with his cum coating the insides of your mouth and tongue.

"fuck... so pretty for me," he pulled out his phone once again, holding your chin with his other hand as he clicked a picture.

he was definitely going to use that picture to jerk off sometime soon.

[clarkeyhill]

Bitter | George Clarke Part 2

Angst. Fluff

The day broke in, your eyes flutter open to the creep of the sunrise. Your surroundings all too familiar, creating a pit in your stomach. George snoring beside you. Although you hated him for what he did, you couldn't help but admit it felt good to be back next to him. You slowly slide out of the bed, grabbing your clothes from off the floor. You were in one of his t-shirts, the one he bought from a festival you both went to a year ago.

You sigh, looking at the shirt reliving all the memories, the way you sung while on his shoulders, your hair flying in the wind as his hands locked onto your legs. You creep into the bathroom, sliding the shirt over your head and putting your clothes back on. Luckily you wore jeans and a casual top so it didn't massively look like a walk of shame. Suddenly you hear faint voices in the background "shit" you mutter under your breath, you forgot about Chris and Arthur; George's flatmates. You fold the tee on the edge of his bath, as you open the door slightly. You shake georges shoulder

"George, wake up!" You whisper as he stirs

"What's wrong, why are you dressed?" He asks squinting as he opens his eyes

"I need to leave, this was a mistake" you say with a heavy heart. Deep down it wasn't.

"Go then" his voice rough, a touch of anger behind it

"Chris and Arthur are here!" You say with worry

"So? Go" he rolled over his back now turning to you

He hadn't changed. Not in the slightest or had he? And was he just disguising the hurt of you leaving so quickly.

You roll your eyes, grabbing your bag off the floor. You swing the door open. Letting it bounce off the walls, making your way through the flat

"I was never here" you say with a stern look to Arthur and Chris

The boys hold their hands up in surrender

"Nice to see you" Arthur says

"You too" you smile as you walk out the flat.

Your head heavy. The lingering thought of him ruined your sanity and it was driving you insane. You arrive back at your flat. Kicking your shoes off as you head into the shower. The water cascading over your shoulders as the steam engulfs you. Lost in the heat you turn it off. Opening the door to your shower and wrapping yourself in your towel.

You perch yourself on the edge of your bed, your wet hair dripping down your chest. An urge to contact George rushed over you "no, this is what he wants" you shake your head. Just then a notification pops up

"georgeclarkeey wants to send you a message"

And there he was, like a game of cat and mouse. Right on que.

-

🫶🏻 ✨

@pookietv

[thesoulforgeorder]

Hiiii :]

If it's okay to ask, I've been wondering how would ROs react when the enemy somehow captured ro and mc, and the enemy torture mc in front of tied up RO on the chair to get the informations out of them, who would give in eventho mc told them to not to(like maybe they are in relationship or in crush stage)? I imagine Mina and Will are probably gonna hold on for a while, but then they gonna plan a revenge or something after that lol. Feel free to ignore this ask if this makes you uncomfortable:]

Thankyou, I really like your story and i found it couple days ago and ngl it cheer me up in the middle of hard days. Also, I'm sorry for my English, it's not my first language

Cheers :]

Hi, Anon! I'm sorry to hear that you're having a difficult time. I'm glad my game could help you feel better and I am more than happy to write some angst for you. (Also your english is great, don't worry about it!)

This scenario is written as if MC and RO are in an established relationship.

Trigger warning: Descriptions of torture and intense violence below

Mina - "Pry her eyes open, we can't allow our efforts to go to waste." The voice chuckles sadistically as Mina's head is craned back and her eyes are forced open. Fingers tugging her eyelids up and an arm around her neck so she can't turn away.

MC sits in front of Mina, beaten and bloody, their chest barely moving as they struggle to breathe through their broken nose. "You could end all their suffering by just telling us what we want to hear," The voice sings.

Mina tries to bite down on the arm of the person holding her, snarling as she says, "I'll fucking kill you, I'll kill you!" She thrashes against her chains, eyes red and spit flying from her mouth as she tries desperately to break free.

Will - Will twists his wrists against the metal of his handcuffs; careful to keep his actions out of sight of the kidnappers - cutting at the flesh. Warm blood slicks his hands as he desperately tries to free himself, his eyes never leaving MC.

"Just look at me, block them out, I'll get us out of this." He pleads, trying to keep his voice calm but his breath hitches as the kidnapper brings the hammer down on MC's hand again, their voice hoarse as they scream out.

He barely feels the metal as it chews through his wrists, his eyes focused on MC and mouth never slowing as he spews words of reassurance and comfort.

Ara - It takes two hours for Ara to crack. She watches as MC takes cut after cut from the kidnappers; their faces twisted in sadistic glee as they carve into MC's flesh. Ara thrashes against her chains, her chair rattling as she flings herself forward, desperate to close the distance.

MC tries to reassure Ara but soon her reassurances are replaced with hoarse screams, the knife digging in further and further. At the first scream, Ara topples her chair, her chains and chair crashing against the ground. She tries to worm her way towards MC but is kicked back.

When she sees MC slow in their struggles, she breaks. Information leaves her mouth in an incoherent babble, the words tripping over themselves to flee her mouth.

Theo - Theo writhes and twists against the wall, his shoulders protesting his sharp movements as they are jolted back by the heavy chains shackling him. His eyes wide and red as he sees MC led into the room, tied up and arms pulled by two large guards.

"Now then, you are going to tell us what we want to hear," The kidnapper says with a smirk, tapping the knife they hold against MC's cheek, "Or we will have to resort to more extreme measures to get our information."

MC opens their mouth, set on telling Theo to not say anything, but they never get the chance. Theo is already speaking, his arms nearly pulled out of their sockets as he presses forward, saying everything and anything to protect MC.

Nico - Nico bites down on his tongue until it bleeds, letting the pain distract him from the nauseating sight ahead. His muscles scream as he contorts his joints and limbs, struggling futilely against his chains. They rattle and shake as he writhes.

A scream is ripped from MC's throat as the brand comes down on their thigh, the sickening smell of burnt flesh filling the air and Nico struggles to fight back the urge to vomit. MC tries to smile at Nico, their lips shaking as they curl up.

And the smile is what breaks Nico. The trust, the love... it was worse than the torture. How could he live with himself if he let MC die? He breaks his silence, avoiding MC's eyes, unable to last even a full hour watching the one he loves suffer.

Astrid - She begs them to hurt her instead, pleading through tears and hoarse cries to stop. Blood spills across her arms as she thrashes and writhes against her chains, trying to claw her way towards MC. Astrid ignores MC's pleas for her to stop, to stay strong.

She breaks at the first flash of pain across MC's face. The words spill from her lips as fast as the blood from her wrists. Like a burst pipe, there is no stopping the torrential wave once it has been unleashed, the information flows quickly.

And she can't find it within her to care that she has become a traitor. The only thing that matters is MC.

[multifandom-nerds-blog]

S7 ep 1 compliant mini fic with established Corvus (Cause Sorens face was bloody in one scene and clean in the next one somehow)

Maybe a bit similar to the one I posted a few days earlier, but who cares.

"Oh, right. Right! Because I'd be dead!"

Corvus could only shake his head at Sorens antics. Not without smiling though. The relief of seing him alive was strong, and gave him enough energy to stay on his feet even after the long day followed by flying for hours.

Though seeing the castle like this really was terrible. They had seen the smoke from far away already, and it wasn't much better up close.

Their capitol. Their castle. The home of Ezran, Callum and Soren. And well, after two years also his home, though this was obviously much worse for his friends who had grown up here. But Ezran was with Callum for the moment, so he could focus on Soren.

"Opeli is on the way to the Banther lodge with most people." Soren said while keeping his arm around Corvus shoulder. "I stayed here with some guards to keep the fires under control and look for uhh... stuff."

"You mean anything salvagable?" He didn't mentioned the ever so slight shaking of Sorens hand on his shoulder. Or the quite trembling of his voice. It would most probably just lead to Soren closing his walls.

"Yeah. Yeah! That. Also Barius and some others are going to the sorrounding towns for supplies and help to set up cam- what are you doing?"

Corvus had put his hand up to Sorens face. Unable to ignore the blood on the blonde mans face and hair any longer. He turned around to properly face his partner, Sorens hand not leaving him but sliding on his other shoulder instead when he moved.

"What happened?", Corvus asked. Lightly tracing his thumb over the streak of blood going through Sorens eyebrow. He didn't flinch so either he had pushed the thought of injuries to the back of his head, wouldn't be the first time, or it wasn't as bad as it looked. Corvus guessed for both, head wounds were nasty bleeders after all but Soren was also extremely stubborn and ignorant about his own wounds at times.

"Oh that?" Soren took his hand of his shoulder to poke his own forehead, with a bit more force than Corvus liked him to do. "Right. A flying stone hit me. Not as in the Stone knowing how to fly. Just a stone from the rubble flying into my face."

Corvus hummed while taking Sorens hand away from his face with his own to stop the poking. He would probably hear the whole story later. After everyone had time to collect themselves a bit.

His free hand started looking through his pockets while not letting go of Sorens in his other hand.

"So how was the wedding? Probably fancier than a burning castle. Though it was a sunfire elf wedding, so maybe they have some traditions about burning stuff?"

"Not exactly.", Corvus answered. You could probably say that Queen Janais relationship to her brother burned to ashes, but that would be a pretty rude oversimplification of the matter. He could also still feel the bruises from when Karims followers captured him during the battle. "The wedding is a... long story."

"Later?", Soren asked.

"Later.", Corvus agreed.

Finally he found the clean handkerchief he usually kept on him. Though honestly surprised it was still there and clean after everything. And finally Soren showed a reaction to his wounds when Corvus reached up to his forehead again.

"Ah." Soren's face flinched. Corvus might have not even noticed if he hadn't spend so much time of the last two years studying the other man. "You don't... have to. It's dried anyway."

For a moment Corvus wanted to ask if he was okay, but... that question seemed senseless in the current situation. But he could see that the adrenaline was starting to leave Sorens body. And there was a look in his eyes that was all to familiar to Corvus.

Right. Lord Viren was in the dungeon while Katolis had burned down. So what happened to him?

"We should still clean it up.", Corvus settled on. He let go of Sorens hand to cup his face instead in both hands, looking into blue eyes.

Sorens skin was warm, which confused Corvus a bit. His partners skin was usually ever so cold, but now warmth was somehow streaming from his body into Corvus hands.

"Your warm.", Corvus stated. "Do you have a fever?"

"Heh, well, most people would probably call this a normal body temperature."

Soren tried to crack a smile, but Corvus just raised an eyebrow.

"It's just from... the fire. Well. Kinda. But it's wearing of already." Soren laid one of his hands over Corvus', as if to prove it, even if his hands were usually even cooler than the rest anyways. "Everybody who was here is running hot right now. But as I said. It's wearing of already. You're gonna have your walking iceblock back soon enough."

There was obviously something Soren was leaving out in his story, but Corvus decided it would be better to talk about this later. As well as the unavoidable topic of wether Viren was dead or alive.

Later, Corvus thought. Later was good.

He ran his right thumb over Sorens eyebrow again, rubbing some dried blood of in the process. Soren responded by lowering his head until their foreheads meat.

"I... I'm...", Soren stuttered.

"It's okay. I've got you."

He could feel Sorens other hand landing on his shoulder and gripping on to him.

"I know."

"But now, really, let's find some water to get all that blood of your face."

"Hm, okay. Yeah. You're probably right."

"It's also in your hair."

"WHAT?" Soren promptly jumped back to check his hair. "Why did not nobody tell me?!"

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Snippet Sunday

Time for some family drama.

"Who's there?" Uncle Dennis calls from the dining room.

Sasha holds his breath and tries to tuck himself further between the potted plant and the wall, accidentally tipping it over. The pot topples over, dirt flying all over the carpet.

His uncle rushes out of the dining room, fists balled, ready to kick out the intruder, but he freezes when his eyes lock with Sasha, standing in the middle of the pile of dirt.

"Hi, Uncle Dennis," Sasha greets him with a little wave.

His uncle looks at him as if he's grown two heads, before whispering, "... Sasha?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, for barging in and... knocking over the plant," he looks down at the mess, "I'll clean this up."

"Who the fuck cares about that," he replies, a shaky smile crossing his lips, "come here."

Sasha steps over the dirt and into his uncle's warm embrace. Gods, it's been years but he still fits in Uncle Dennis's arms like he's a ten-year-old child instead of the almost thirty-year-old adult he is.

But there's a part of him that cringes at the touch and wants to squirm out of his grasp. A part of him has changed so irrevocably that the comfort his uncle's embrace should bring is replaced with a sense of doom.

He doesn't belong here anymore.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs in his uncle's chest, "I shouldn't be here."

"What are you talking about, bud?"

His uncle speaks with such warmth, as if he forgives Sasha for the years he's been gone without leaving even a single note behind.

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @ravenekrops, @frantheram