#idk idk anyway ponder this scenario

[potato-lord-but-not]

in light of monsterfucker!noel... what if john gets a human body but sometimes turns into a Creature. what if john hides it from his boyfriends because in his head it's just proof that he'll always be a monster. what if oscar is the one who eventually finds out. what if john is fully convinced that oscar's just trying to work out how to tell arthur and noel so they can all leave john. what if oscar is actually busy carefully engineering a way for noel to find out about monster!john.

(lbr oscar is thrilled when he pulls that off. making john more comfortable/a lot less ashamed of himself would have been more than enough for him, but noel's impossible to shop for gifts for and oscar's been wracking his brain trying to come up with a birthday present for him...)

sharing this after like a week because I accidentally made a 14 page comic sorta inspired by this so uh

[k0yaz]

shackled.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, arranged marriage, arle referred to as your husband, use of her real name, idk if this is angst so I’ll tag it as angst and fluff, wlw, I actually fucking hate arranged marriages irl but it’s interesting to write about, fun when it’s the character you like and not a 10 year old girl getting married to an ugly ass 60 year old man who gets no bitches, uhm anyway not proofread.

A/N: nobody gonna request arrange marriage? I’ll do it myself with my husband/husbwife arlecchino 🕯️

Uneven beats of your heart pulsed in your eardrums continuously as you stared out the open window, a cool breeze caressing your downcast face gently. Your pupils flickered down to your extended left hand, dilating smaller out of disdain upon catching sight of the cold silver ring encircling your ring finger.

You dreaded it. This arranged marriage parted an endless uncomfortable pit in your stomach, which you had felt would remain as long as you were trapped in a bind you didn’t want. Gazing down at ring once more, you couldn’t help but find it difficult to swallow the choked feeling in your throat whenever you laid eyes upon the ruby, nausea enveloping every possible sense you had in the moment. Rather than a promise ring that bound you to someone you loved, the one on your finger felt like a tiny silver collar clamped around your flesh. An irking feeling that forced you to love a stranger.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Arlecchino. The woman had actively attempted to respect your personal space, being able to tell how much you loathed the inescapable grasp of your arranged marriage. You could tell that she opposed even the thought of this, especially from the way her eyes would stare down at her own ring with an empty and unfeeling expression.

Sighing deeply, you reached an arm up to grasp the satin curtains, before tugging your arms inward in a single dynamic motion. As you turned your back to walk away from the now closed up windows, you felt a gust of light air brush against your nape, causing you to spin around and lower your eyes from slight annoyance. Right. You forgot to shut the windows first. You just went over to shut the windows, still harboring a hint of irritation. Ever since that marriage, you always tended to feel unwilling to do anything anymore. Frequently always irritated by the smallest of actions as you’d always think to yourself—what’s the point?

Upon closing up the windows completely, you fell back onto the intricately decorated sofa set situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your mind still a cluttered mess from all your thoughts being scrambled rather than neatly arranged in an array. You began to ponder once more. How things could’ve been different. Ran away, or disobeyed your parents to a full extent.

There wasn’t anything you could do. You didn’t see a point in even trying to keep a happy front anymore. All of your aspirations that you had, every little dream, was now out of your reach as you were shackled into this marriage. The warm air of the heater hit your skin as you rested your cheek into your palm. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you mused at the possible scenarios that could’ve happened if you were free. Perhaps if you were wallowing in your delusion, you could smile atleast once.

“I’m home.”

You blinked from sudden surprise, jolting as the bedroom door creaked open—albeit a bit roughly. Arlecchino’s emotionless voice rang in your ears, had she called out upon entering before? She often enters the living room first, and doesn’t enter the bedroom until nightfall. Then again, you tend to reside in the living room to await your husband’s return, so maybe she simply wondered where you were.

Stray specks of blood decorated her cheek, scattering small splatters ranging in a variety of spots across her face. Right. She was the fourth harbinger after all. You folded your arms as Arlecchino towered over you, still standing upright while her x-marked eyes pierced into you. Shifting uncomfortably, you decided to clear your throat, gesturing towards your own cheek in an attempt to break the thick fog of tension between you two from the lack of words.

“You got some-“

“I’m aware.” Arlecchino replied coldly, making you bite back a scoff at the harbinger’s dismissive response. Well, excuse you for trying to make this shitty marriage more bearable.

Still, it didn’t seem intentionally rude although it did come off that way. You only looked away from her, eyes fixating on a random painting hung over the flower pot on one of the shelves. Hunching your shoulders, you bit down on your quivering lip subtly so that Arlecchino wouldn’t notice. Although you were the one that distanced yourself from her. Although you were the one who only focused on despising this marriage, rather than even trying to get closer to Arlecchino in the slightest for atleast a small hint of peace. It still hurt seeing your husband brush you off like this.

Her seemingly exhausted expression remained glued to her face as she dragged the folded white washcloth along her cheek, eyes staring at the ground aimlessly as she continued to clean her stained face. The weight of all of this had clearly taken a toll on her as well, yet she had to keep a sturdy front for the sake of her profession as a Fatui harbinger. Yet her actions regarding you had always been courteous and respectful. Consistently respecting your boundaries and trying her best to avoid making you feel uncomfortable must have taken a toll on her, especially knowing full well that your resentment for this marriage could have set you off at any given moment.

A sudden wave of sympathy flooded you upon seeing Arlecchino’s tired eyes, dark linings shaded below her eyes as well. Just maybe, you could try to repay her for having your comfort in mind throughout the course of this resented relationship. This relationship wasn’t her fault, and you knew that. She hated this just as much as you did.

Deciding to swallow your pride, you rose to your feet, standing before her as you awkwardly shifted for a couple moments while remaining standing there. Arlecchino paused her movements, raising an eyebrow at your sudden motion of getting up off the couch. She simply stared at you with a puzzled gaze, trying to figure out your sudden want to interact with her.

Hesitantly, you reached out a shaky hand, lining it up with her cheek and gesturing her to lean in. Arlecchino on the other hand, wasn’t expecting you to switch up suddenly like this, only keeping her skeptical gaze locked onto your own eyes. It felt like a trap to lean in to someone who was so hesitant to even look at her. No matter how badly she wanted to lean into the soft skin of your palm, her hesitance seemed to uphold her rationality despite her exhaustion.

“Arle…it’s okay, you can lean in…”

She needn’t be told twice as you felt her hand grab ahold of your wrist to keep it in place, her head nearly collapsing against your hand. Deep breaths echoed within the vicinity, her breaths cancelling every other noise around you two as Arlecchino slowly composed herself from your touch. She pulled back after a couple moments, her cold front faltering for a moment with a flash of tenderness, before immediately snapping back to her calm demeanor.

However, you didn’t stop there. You don’t know what flipped that switch in you, but you just felt the urge to grow closer to Arlecchino. Perhaps it was the realization that you weren’t alone in the hellhole of a marriage, and that you two may be suffering together. Knowing she hated this as much as you was comforting, it remedied your internal turmoil slightly, and made you detest the idea of anyone else going through what you were. Or maybe, it was the fact that Arlecchino didn’t push anything in this marriage, and respected you, preventing your mental state from growing worse. It could even be both.

Regardless, you wanted to atleast provide a sort of ease to her. Cupping her cheek once more, you pulled the washcloth from her hand, rubbing it against her cheek in circular motions as stains of blood began to soak up onto the cloth and coloring it red. Arlecchino didn’t seem to protest your attempt at soothing her, face pressing further into your shaky palm as it seemed to be working. The quiet buzz of the heater reverberating through the silence, and the general tidy atmosphere of the neatly arranged bed made everything feel so right. As if this marriage wasn’t so awful after all.

Arlecchino exhaled a swift sigh as you finished washing up her face, remaining silent. The two of you awkwardly awaited for the other to speak up, the crickets outside chirping louder than the two of you by this point. You finally decided to say something, face tinged a light pink from moderate embarrassment

“You didn’t want this either did you?”

Arlecchino shook her head in affirmation, her eyes still avoiding yours—as if she was afraid that your vulnerability would shift over to her, and shatter her calm self at this moment.

“I’m well aware of this situation. Your parents are already closely associated with the Fatui, and want wanted you to marry a harbinger in order to elevate their own status for the sake of the family.” She replied. A sour taste seeped onto your tongue at the mention of the reason why you were forced into this in the first place, unpleasant memories beginning to race through your mind for a few moments.

“Why did you accept the offer then? You could’ve easily declined if you didn’t want to be in this marriage either. There’s multiple other harbingers my parents would’ve auctioned me off to.” You said bitterly, strangely hating the idea of getting married to anyone who wasn’t Arlecchino at this point. Arlecchino merely shrugged in response, raising her shoulders to remove the white fur coat cloaking her and draping it neatly over the coat hanger drilled into the wall.

“I’m not sure.” She paused, taking some time to think over another answer to compensate for her vague response. “I believe I just felt it was necessary in that moment.”

You sighed back collapsing onto the mattress. Suddenly, you felt an arm circle your waist, pulling you closer as you felt Arlecchino push her torso flush against your back. Your face burned from the sudden intimate action, the warmth of her body only serving to make you lean into her further as her sharp nails raked along your stomach lightly. Arlecchino whispered out against you, visibly less uptight than when she came in. She was a bit more relaxed and clingy with you simply with a mere touch against her cheek, it was sweet honestly.

“I still care about you, (Name).” She muttered against your neck, voice muffled as she was evidently quite tired. Pale rays of the moonlight illuminated Arlecchino’s now eased expression, watching her eyes lowered shut as her exhaustion began to catch up with her. Surprisingly, you found yourself relishing in the comfort of her arms as you flipped onto your side facing her to examine her rested features.

“…I’m starting to care about you too, Peruere.”

Your hand drew down along her arm, all the way from the skin of her shoulder down to the black faded enveloping her arms from her curse. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. You found solace in the fact that you could make the best out of this marriage with a woman who kept you in mind and tried her best to care about your interests.

Maybe, you could warm up to her.

A/N: im screaming idk if this turned out good guys pls asaaawaabshshs but yayyyyy arlecchino MY CONTENT WARNINGS WERE ASS ON THIS ONE WHY ARE THEY SO BORING AND SAD ‼️

[heavenlyysstuff]

Bioluminescence .

NETEYAM.s x fem!Metkayina!reader

summary , out on a late night walk you cross paths, and isn’t the water just so mesmerising… it reminds you of him.

a/n , idk if I’m good at writing so lmk, also I didn’t proof read too much so…

Waves crash and sand tumbles as the night of pandora puts all na’vi to ease, resting in their marui’s at the darkest hour.

But not you. Eywa forbid you get any rest, the number of nights you spent walking every inch of Awa’atlu you had lost count of. It’s always for the same reason, you think too much, especially when you need to sleep. Thoughts flood your head, meaningless thoughts, and him.

Ever since the arrival of the Sully family, which was many months ago, you couldn’t help but always find yourself drawn to the oldest brother of the family, Neteyam… sometimes you can’t even say his name aloud without blushing.

He’s usually the cause of these late night walks you take, always floating through your mind at the worst moments as you continue to walk until every scenario of him has been fulfilled. And while this sounds quite obsessive, it’s not your fault, not your fault he was both kind and handsome, the perfect package.

And all this overthinking leads you here, sat upon a large flat rock in the reef of Awa’atlu, not that far, but enough where all you can hear is the sound of waves and the view of the beauty that is the bioluminescence in the waves as they collide against the rocks.

It’s moments like these that give you a feeling of peace, nobody knew about these late night walks you took yourself on, and this was really the only time you had something to yourself.

Being the oldest daughter of the Chief and Tsahik of the Metkayina, you never really got a say in much, everything was always decided for you. While you do love your parents dearly, sometimes they are a bit overwhelming, almost going to the extremes of choosing your future mate before you had your first outburst and completely lashed out in front of them.

Thankfully they came to understand after you had turned down many suitors to potentially mate with.

Ah, you’re overthinking again… why do you keep reminding yourself of these terrible moments? You sigh to yourself and lean to look at the edge of the rock you sit on, admiring the glow of the ocean waves as they crashes into the rocks edge, creating a sea of stars for you to gaze into all night.

In your trance of admiration, you fail to notice the sounds of water breaking on the other side of the rock, someone had climbed on.

“What are you doing out here?”

You flinch at the sudden presence, but that voice is familiar.

You swiftly turn to face the voice, him.

“Neteyam…” You say softly to acknowledge him, you suddenly feel nervous. “I uh, just…thinking.” You continue to answer his question, now leaning away from the water and sat with your chin resting on your knees.

His smile indicated his intrigue with your answer, his eyebrows furrow as he thinks about what to say.

“But it’s late, why aren’t you asleep?”

“Why aren’t you?” You tease, quickly falling smitten as he quietly laughs. “What are you doing out here anyways?”

His laugh dies down but even with the dark lighting a smile is still visible. “I couldn’t sleep, thought a walk would tire me out. I thought everyone was asleep, but then I saw you.”

You can’t find a reply. Too entranced with the glowing waves once again, your eyes reflect it’s gorgeous stars.

“It’s really pretty out here at night…” He says, breaking you out your the trance, you slowly turn to look at him, taking in his features.

“Yea…” you whisper, but you aren’t making eye contact with him, your eyes are locked onto his dark skin, and the bioluminescent freckles that decorate his face. It’s familiar.

For a moment your eyes glance towards the bioluminescent waves that collided with the rocks behind him, then back to his freckles.

“Huh…” you ponder.

“Hm?”

You look at him, eyes meeting as you blink to break your trance in embarrassment. “Oh it’s just, the waves.” You mumble, “they kinda remind me of you…” immediately you feel stupid, where’s all this confidence coming from?

“They do? How’s that?” He mumbled back, leaning closer to see your face and tilting his head in semi fake curiosity, you can see he’s amused with your words, he’s teasing you.

“Your freckles, they glow… like the waves.” You mumble in your flustered state. After his silence you quickly deflate. “I dunno, I just, nevermind…”

The silence is awkward for you, but it only lasts another few seconds. “You’re sweet.” Are his only words.

This only sends you deeper into your state of embarrassment, but he continues.

“Do you like them?”

“Huh?”

“My freckles.”

You ponder in your mind for a moment debating your next words, “Yea, they’re pretty.” You say and tilt your head away and down to stare into the glowing waves once again to distract yourself.

“Thank you. I like yours as well, I’ve never seen a pattern like that.” His accent breaks through his words as he compliments you.

“Really?” You question, as if in disbelief. You look away from the ocean, gaze locked onto the rocks surface in-front of you. “I used to cover them up…but uh, you know.”

He leans towards you, his hand on your shoulder to make you look at him, his face is showing some shock, “why would you cover them? they’re beautiful.”

You giggle nervously, both embarrassed and flustered. “It’s stupid…”

After your words, Neteyam slowly retracts his hand from your shoulder, “well I’m glad you’re showing them now, I would hate to miss out on something so pretty.” You can’t tell weather he’s complimenting you or just your glowing freckles, either way, it manages to make you blush

You giggle then exhale “Thank you, Neteyam…”

After a moment of him simply tracing your face with his eyes he speaks, “You’ve always been so pretty to me.”

You feel warm all over, a fuzzy feeling in your stomach as you can’t find it in you to look at him. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear due to the sudden heat in your face.

“Would you like me to walk you to your marui?”

You finally glance in his direction for what seems to be the first time that night.

“Yea, I’d like that.”

[yoayoaa]

OMG YIPPY OPEN REQUEST!!! Hello, how are ya doing!!! I was wondering if I could ask/request for a cybertronian! Reader with four arms and they're like ancient cybertronian that was king/queen of the battlefield during war very VERY eons ago like when the first prime was made (prima) and they sooner became too overpowering and too strong with their power so they sealed up reader until they were unsealed by Megatron (Tfp/transformer prime) but reader switched teams and teamed up with the Autobots!! I hope this isn't too much...😭🙏🙏 I was wondering if you could make it as a scenario or one shot? Idk up to you because my mind is FILLED with ideas for your inbox👍

HELLO! I'm doing good thanks for asking!! OF COURSE YOU COULD!! THIS WAS INTERESTING TO WRITE

Prompt: ancient cybertronian!reader whos overpowered, sealed and was released by Megatron to join the Decepticons but joined Autobots instead

Warnings: no warnings, im using [y/n] in here

Notes: i made the reader being sealed somewhere on cybertron since they exist during the first prime, i hope you dont mind!! Anyways hope you enjoy this :D this is also a bit long geez-

Megatron made his way towards Cybertron again but not to revive an undead army. He was there to release someone from the time of the first prime, someone whos an overpowered warrior before being sealed. Soundwave had decoded a relic that tells them of this bot who was sealed due to being too overpowered, and Megatron has full intentions to make that bot join the Decepticon cause. Ironically none of them had ever heard of this bot until now, he basically has the upper hand if this bot decided to join the cause.

As Megatron arrived to place, he could see how old yet sturdy the seal was. He began to forcefully open the seal before finding out there lays a bot with four arms, a frame almost as big as Predaking. He slowly approached the figure, circling around them as he return to his original position. The bot's servos twitched as they slowly opened their optics before said optics was suddenly blown wide in shock. They quickly sat up and looked around before their gaze lands on Megatron. With optics filled with confusion, they began asking him some questions. "Where am I? What time is it? And more importantly, who are you?" They asked as they narrowed their optics, eons of slumber has rendered their sight a bit blurry.

"My designation is Megatron, the one who has freed you from this wretched seal. You are still in Cybertron, although it has gone dark here. What is your designation, great warrior?" Megatron asked. "I Thank you, Megatron. My designation is [y/n], and what do you mean by Cybertron went dark?" They questioned as they slowly stood up to their full height, towering over him by a bit. "During your slumber, there was war that a faction of bots has started, they are called the Autobots. So we made another faction, the Decepticons, to go against them and defend Cybertron. But because of the Autobot's reckless act, Cybertron is no more. Now the only surviving bots are refuging on Earth." He explained. [y/n] got suspicious, due to the fact theres the word 'deception' in their faction.

"If you are good, why are you called 'Decepticons'?" They asked. "It is because they wanted to villainize us, but instead we wear it like a badge of honor. We won't let that label bring us down. Now, I would like to ask you a favor as the leader of the Decepticons." Megatron said, slowly walking towards them as he stoped right in front of them. [y/n] blinked as they debated with themself before deciding to agree to hear about the favor first. "You will join our cause to defeat the Autobots, in return you will be well cared for in the Decepticons. You are an excellent warrior after all." He offered. They only silently ponder as they weight their choices. They dont have anyone else that they know of here, the only 'safer option' is to accept it. "I accept this offer." They said as they offer their servos for a handshake as the deal was made.

It already has been a few earth months after that day, they still remember it clearly. Months of observation has given them enough detail that they are at the wrong side of the war. Now they sat on their birth, looking at their Decepticon insignia as [y/n] creates a plan. A plan that will hopefully change their life for the better, they planned to somehow switch sides to be an Autobot. They planned to sneak during night time where the halls of the nemesis was not too crowded before making their way towards the flight deck, unfortunately this will be a bit difficult due to the fact that their 4 arms stood out.

Night has fallen on Earth and now they're executing their plan. Avoiding any vehicons and cameras in the hallway, they successfully arrived at the flight deck. Thankfully their alt-mode takes flight so they could escape easily. Now they had land somewhere deserted in Nevada, hoping that their signal would attract the autobots here. Fortunately it did, as Optimus himself along with Bumblebee and Bulkhead. "I would like to ask you a favor, prime. I would like to move to your faction as i've seen enough misdeeds done by the Decepticons." [y/n] said. Optimus was ready to accept when a few beeps from Bumblebee, assuming it was beeps of protest, made Optimus paused for awhile. After a bit more convincing to both the Autobots and the leader himself, they got accepted. Now they only need to worry if the others would willingly accept them right after they defect from the Decepticons.

[lamnwar]

dhfjgj ok so i have never done an ask before but your writing is just*chef’s kiss* and idk i’m sitting in the depths of my affections for kagami rn and basically can you give us a kagami x fem! reader fluffy smut scenario?

i was honestly obsessed with your sfw piece “it just makes sense” esp the way you described him looking up at the sky in the beginning and thenbROUGHT IT BACK at the end was just agdjfshkfg poetry

kinda just want to have a pwp moment with a first meeting context.

bUT if this is too big an ask, i’m kinda craving that vibe, even if you could bless us with some shmexy crumbs following “it just makes sense” i’d be elated.

HIIII OMG SO SO SORRY I TOOK WAY TOO LONG FOR THIS ONE, I HAVE NO EXCUSE 😭 I was really excited to write this one, so I hope you're still looking for some love for Kagami bc I lowkey unlocked my affection for him writing this lmaooo anyways I hope you enjoy it <33 it's kinda accidental but I'm trynna make up for the tardiness by publishing on Valentine's Day so yeah 💕

Till The Rain Stops // Kagami Taiga x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

Context: in which the heavy rains get you to meet a beautiful stranger. All characters are 18+ for plot purposes.

Warnings: LISTEN it's kinda fluffy till I got feral so yeah, some fondling, nipple play, slight manhandling, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (never have sex unprotected with a stranger irl please 😭), Kagami's big 🧎🏾‍♀️, he cums on reader's chest 🤭

“Shit” you swear under your breath, as you are greeted by an unexpected deluge just minutes after leaving your building.

You look up, startled by the millions of drops falling on you, drenching your entire body while you ponder how you’ve never figured that it was going to rain today. Maybe it’s because you’ve been out of touch with reality lately – it happens sometimes when things get overwhelming. So here you are, cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella with you, and realizing that you don’t have many options but to find shelter somewhere dry. You run, protecting the content of your bag by holding it close to your chest. The sounds of your shoes in the puddles is barely heard over the violent thudding of the rain on all solid surfaces around. Evidently, at the sight of the first building on your path, you rush to enter it.

And that is when you see him. The squeak of his shoes on the wooden floor of the gymnasium follows each of his quick movements, till he jumps, time stopping momentarily as he reaches the hoop. You stare, stars in your eyes, like he is some weird invention of your imagination. But when he lands, you are brought back to reality. You silently watch as he dribbles around, swiping away the sweat of his face. He eventually stops, removing his shirt and throwing it to the side court. Except that the drench fabric lands at your feet and you both let out a gasp when your eyes meet. For what seems like an eternity, he stares at you, thick eyebrows torn at the sight of a complete stranger, wet from head to toes, standing here with these startled eyes.

“Do you need something?” his voice resonates in the empty gymnasium.

You can hear the rain drumming against the metallic roof, and you figure that you should say something.

“I uh… ran here, got caught in the rain” you explain.

His eyes don’t leave you for a second; you’re curious as to why at first, before looking down to see how your clothes cling to your body, exposing your figure to the gaze of a man you have yet to know the name of. Embarrassment gains you immediately, even more so when you realize that you have nothing to hide behind. He steps forward, and you realize just how big he is. As he stands a mere metre away from you, you are faced directly with his bare chest on which drops of sweat glimmer like he’s covered in glitter. As awkward as the situation is, you can’t ignore the sight before you; he is sculpted like a Greek god, the define lines of his muscles hypnotizing. Around his neck hangs a silver ring, and you ashamedly imagine tugging on it to pull his face closer to yours.

“God, you’re fucking wet” he remarks.

And upon hearing his voice again, your attention deviates to his face. You know that you have no idea who he is – there is no way you’d forget a face like his. His traits are of such finesse, a perfect mix of sharp angles and soft highlights, a raw beauty that makes you wonder, once again, if you are not hallucinating.

“I’m sorry to bother” you finally speak, “I just didn’t expect the rain so… can I stay here till I dry a bit and the situation calms down outside?”

“That ain’t my gymnasium, do as you please.”

His casual tone takes you aback. You haven’t really focused on his words ever since he’s opened his mouth, but you now take note of his tone; he talks like you’re acquainted and while this would have usually annoyed you, it just feels so natural coming from him. And you cannot hold yourself in any position to judge, not when you look like you do and more importantly, when you’ve been gawking at his shirtless torso all along instead of holding a conversation with him.

“Would you know where I can dry myself off?” you ask, looking down at the puddle forming at your feet.

“Oh yeah, you better do that” he raises his eyebrows.

From a gesture of the hand, he invites you to follow him, and you do so silently. You watch his back as he guides you, the size of it making you feel a bit bothered. You can feel some thoughts marching in your head, and knowing their nature, you chase them away. What kind of creep would you be, thinking about marking this gorgeous back with your nails while he thrusts into you? You cough, feeling terrible for being so ridiculously desperate for a man you barely know.

“I’m Kagami Taiga, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Taiga. His name echoes in your head, sounding pretty. It fits him, you ponder, matching the energy you get from him.

“We haven’t met no, but it’s nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself back, small talk issuing from your introduction till he opens the door of what you figure to be the lockers. His back stands in the middle of the room, and he invites you in.

“Got a towel hanged there” he points at the hangers, “and I don’t know about your clothes, but I think I might have an extra t-shirt for you.”

“You- you don’t have to!”

“Up to you girl, but…” he gets a black shirt out of his bag “if you want something warm and dry.”

He stands in front of you, a big hand holding out the piece of clothing to you. The proximity makes you gulp; he’s intimidating, yet incredibly attractive. And when your fingers graze his as you take his t-shirt, you get a whiff of his perfume – a mix of his natural scent and his deodorant. It doesn’t help your case: he smells heavenly. These thoughts rush in again: what would you do to get his scent on you? what would you do to be encased under his perfect body? Once again, you chase them away the best as you can, refocusing on the present moment.

“Thank you then, Taiga.”

“Taiga? Are we on first name basis already?” he smirks at you.

“Oh! Where are my manners…”

“Hey chill, I couldn’t care less. Call me what you want. Anyway, my name sounds good coming out of your mouth.”

On these words, he leaves the lockers and closes the door behind him, leaving you totally flustered. Come to think of it, he certainly doesn’t mean much by what he’s said – not only does he seem casual in his language, he’s also straightforward. But you can’t help the way you feel; having a hot guy saying that he likes the way you call his name isn’t a common occurrence (well, not as much as you’d like it to be). But again, you figure that you should keep your calm. It isn’t really like you now, is it? Maybe it’s the rain making you think and feel like a hormonal teenager, who knows.

So, you stand there in your underwear, patting your body dry. Your mind cannot get off your new encounter, not when it looks like it comes right off a rom-com. The only thing missing was the rose petals falling around Kagami when you first saw him, although you’d argue it felt like it. At the mere thought of him, you notice a heat in your chest, and you wonder if that may be a love at first sight situation. The thought is crazy – you are more of a realist, and as little as you understand of love, the idea of falling in love upon seeing someone for the first time is fairly crazy. So maybe it’s not love per se, but rather a deep state of infatuation, where the single fact that you are wearing his t-shirt makes you giddy, and you wonder how it’d feel to wake up in his clothes every morning, a piece of him always with you. It’s all crazy daydreams, making you feel out of yourself but at the same time, you’d argue that you can’t be blamed, because you deeply believe that the man you’ve met only minutes ago is objectively the kind to sweep anyone off their feet.

It doesn’t help your case, when you leave the lockers and see him practice his shooting, his form capturing your eyes. His movements are precise and elegant, in complete contrast with his force and the strong muscles that activate as he makes his shots. You are in awe, witness of something great, and questions flood your mind as you stand on the side court, hypnotized by him.

Who the hell is Kagami Taiga?

He goes to catch the ball under the nest after perfectly putting it in, strong hand dribbling it on the polished wooden floor, the sound echoing the beat of your own heart. It’s intriguing that you’ve never met him before. The gymnasium is just minutes away from your place, on your way to most places – whether it be the convenience store or the nearest bus station. You’re used to seeing people walk in and out of it, local teams coming for practice, or neighbours going in for their daily dose of physical activity. But not once have you seen him, and it can’t be that you’ve never noticed, because he’s definitely not the kind to go unnoticed. His fiery aura alone forces you to look his way, capturing all your senses and getting you to pay attention to nothing but him. And now that you see him practice, you note that he is not an amateur like most people coming to play here. With such abilities, he’s either a professional or just a pure genius.

“D’you ever play?” his voice resonates in the empty gymnasium.

It takes you out of your trance, and you look at him, meeting his raised eyebrows.

“I did real quick in P.E. but that’s just how far my history with basketball goes” you reply in all honesty.

He smiles, eyes deviating to the windows for a second. The rain hasn’t stopped, nor has it calmed down. You sigh at this vision, although some part of you wishes it never stops so you get to stay longer with Kagami.

“Wanna play? To pass time, you know” he proposes.

A heat gains your cheeks; it’s cute, you think, and you’d be dumb to not take the opportunity. You nod, trotting to join him on the court. You smile looking up at him.

“You’ll have to show me, sir.”

“Sir?”

“I ought to show you respect if you are to instruct me the ways of basketball.”

He raises an eyebrow before chuckling. The ball under his arm bounces to you, and you catch it in both your hands. You look at it, thinking about how it was looking smaller in his hand. You dribble a bit, getting use to the ball and they you look back at him, nicely waiting for instructions.

“Shoot” he says.

He stands in the sideline, hands on his hips as you suddenly feel nervous. Something about him observing your every move is scary, the thought of is judgement being cast on you, making your heartbeat faster. But you shake the feeling away as best as you can, getting into position and letting the ball fly to the basket. It bounces on the hoop before falling right in his hand.

“Are you going to correct my form?” you ask as he walks back to you.

“Do you want me to?”

“I… wouldn’t mind.”

You swear you see him blush, though it might just be the physical activity that makes the blood rush all over his body. Regardless, you feel his warm body as he comes closer, placing the ball in your hand and then standing behind you. It takes all of you in, your mind uncapable of focusing on anything else but the proximity between you. And when his fingers reach your arms, placing them as they should, you can hardly breathe.

“Now, I need you to bend your knees a bit” he speaks near your ear.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes open wide upon the realization that you’ve spoken out loud. You can’t get yourself to face him, or move a single bit, petrified that he’s heard you. Yeah, it could have been worse – you’ve certainly thought of worse ever seen you got here. But still, the way that word came out of your mouth, like a desperate whimper, is enough to translate the way you’ve been feeling about him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

His candidness surprises you – is he totally unaware of his charms? You can seize the opportunity to act like nothing happened, or… or you can get something more fun out of it.

“You’re cute Taiga, do you know that?”

You’ve never been so bold, and it feels thrilling to speak your mind rather than internally struggling with whatever goes on in your head.

“Cute? I’ve been told I’m a lot of things… but never cute” he reflects. “How am I cute?”

“Well,” you breath, “it’s cute that you can’t tell why being near you makes me swear out loud.”

Your fingers tighten around the ball, anticipating his answer.

“Oh?” he takes a moment, and feel him stand straight behind you before another, “oh” comes out, this one sounding more like a sound of realization.

He reaches behind you, taking you in an embrace for a quick second that feels like eternity before his hands catch yours on the ball.

“You’re a weird one” he remarks, “gawking at me and acting shy one time, and telling me I’m cute and making a move the other.”

“Listen” you try to justify yourself, “I have to make myself memorable, for the next time we meet.”

“Is that so?”

You gulp; his voice sounds so close to you that simply imagining the little space between your bodies makes you weak to the knees. You try to keep a semblance of composure, just for your own dignity, but it’s hard when he’s pressing at your back, bare skin emitting so much heat that you feel it through the fabric of the t-shirt you’re wearing.

“Well, I’m glad that you like me that much” he continues, “my weird one.”

“Should I take it as compliment? That I’m your weird one?”

“I imply that you’re mine. Isn’t it enough?”

You drop the ball, turning around to face him; and that is when it strikes you how close he is. Just centimetres away, his tall body towering over you as he stares, wondering what your next move is.

“I don’t know, I could be yours, yeah, but you should make me first.”

“Sure thing, how d’you want me to proceed?”

He glances at the window – the rain is nowhere near to stop, if anything, it’s pouring even more. The two of you are bound to stay in this gymnasium alone for an unpredictable amount of time. Sure, he has an umbrella, and the two of you could venture outside, confronting the ruthless drops till you both get home. But in comparison to the warmth you’re currently experiencing, it’d be foolish to break the moment, for you don’t know when another occasion as such will ever come.

“Start by giving me a kiss” you finally say, gathering all your confidence in that simple request.

He raises an eyebrow, a glimpse of something appearing in his red irises before he lets a short, cheeky smirk cross his lips as he comes closer. As the distance between you reduces, your mind runs at a thousand kilometres per hour. All of the sudden, you realize what is going on, how you’ve asked for something that you truly want and you’re about to get it. It has never occurred to you before that it can be that simple – you’ve seen him, you’ve immediately taken a liking to him, and now here you are.

His lips are soft against yours as his hands go to pull you closer by the waist. You reach for his face, fingers taking in every inch of his skin, and you can’t help but smile. The way he holds you and kisses you is heavenly – dreamlike, just like him. And it takes your eyes opening again for you to realize, once again, that you aren’t hallucinating. Under the sound of the rain, you kiss him again, more and more hungry for him, figuring that you shouldn’t try to rationalize what is happening. Sure, you are not a believer of love at first sight, but you can’t deny that everything about Kagami Taiga keeps pulling you in, like you want to be made for him, and him only.

“Now what?” he says against your lips.

You look at him, in search of an answer yourself. You could stop everything at this very instant, which would be the sensical thing to do all things considered – you barely know the guy, and a public gymnasium isn’t the most romantic place ever. But at the same time, the tension between you is unbearable, and not listening to your deepest instincts feels wrong.

“Have you ever had sex in the locker room, Taiga?”

The basketball player does not expect you to reply to his question by another one, much less one like that. But this time, he doesn’t take long to connect the dots and understand your intentions.

“I’m about to” he replies, fingers intertwining with yours as he takes you to the locker room.

You laugh as you follow him, feeling like two teenagers about to make a silly mistake, and in some ways, maybe this is what it is. But you couldn’t care less, not when his lips find yours again as he pulls you up, legs wrapping around his waist. You make a mess of his hair, fingers tracing down to the silver chain around his neck before you get to the ring, pulling on it. He gasps, surprised by how you tug him closer and you feel his grip on your bottom get stronger. He almost stumbles, landing on the bench.

“Do I sweep you off your feet, big boy?” an amused smile painted on your face.

“You fucking do” he retorts.

You laugh softly, enjoying the way he looks at you. It is so warm, so humane. The man that you’ve thought to be a miracle upon first entering this gymnasium is right here, so close to you that it is impossible to doubt his existence. You can’t deny it, not when he lifts his t-shirt off your body to leave kisses on your neck and chest. Not when he removes your bra and swears under his breath at the sight of your gorgeous tits. Not when his big hands fondle your breasts, and he goes to suck on your harden nipples to get the sweetest moans out of your lips.

“Fuck, Taiga” you breathe out.

“What is it, my pretty one?”

The name he calls you by makes you waver, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“I’m your pretty one now, huh? No longer weird?”

“You’re both, how about that?”

“I’ll take that, but can your pretty one get some love down there now? I’m growing impatient here!”

He laughs at your straightforwardness, while you yourself are still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’ve actually spoken these words without hesitation. It amazes you, how he manages to put you at such ease, like you’ve always known each other. Yet, you sit here on his lap, curious as ever to discover everything about him because despite the way you feel, you are still strangers. It’s a sort of excitement that takes over you when he grabs you again like you weight nothing, then lays you on the bench. The cold surface against your hot skin gives you goosebumps, but you cannot care less – your attention is entirely focused on the man removing your pants, followed by your underwear, an ecstatic look painting his face at the sight of your cunt.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot” he outright remarks, hands roaming on your thighs.

You feel blood rush to your face, part of you embarrassed to be examined by the eyes of the handsome stranger, part of you extremely aroused by the prospect of what is to come.

“Can I taste you?”

“Please” you nod eagerly.

He doesn’t waste a minute, spreading your legs further apart and getting a comfortable place in between them. Half-lidded eyes look up to you while he marks your skin of his lips, hot breath fanning on your erected clitoris. You bite your lips, keeping in the sounds that menace to come out; he’s barely done anything yet, but you are already melting, the simple sight of him between your legs being its own aphrodisiac. However, you cannot keep your silence when he takes a first laps, separating your lips to have access to your clitoris. He reaches the bundle of nerves, sucking on it languidly, though you feel that he is holding back his true hunger. Something almost animalistic animates the red-haired boy, each stroke of his skilled tongue leaving you speechless – only moans and incoherent mumbles leave your throat.

“Taste so fucking good” he groans as he feists on you.

You can’t even voice out an answer, hips desperately bucking forward to communicate your needs. He is, there again, quick to understand, and his strong arms wrap around your legs as he pulls you closer, keeping his hold as he buries himself in the heavenly warmth of your pussy. He’s messy, hungry, insatiable. You whine – it feels like too much already, and you are just seconds away from your orgasm. Your thighs clench, the knot in your stomach unravelling as you bend against the surface of the bench.

He barely has the time to get out of the embrace of your legs that you pull his face towards yours, desperately kissing him, getting the bittersweet taste of you on your tongue. You’re in a state that is unknown to you, wanting – needing – everything of him. Kagami Taiga has you so desperately in need for him, that your hands rush to the band of his basketball shorts, big doe eyes looking up at him as you beg:

“I want to suck your dick, please!”

This time, Taiga looks surprised by your eagerness. Though he’s appreciated the honesty you’ve demonstrated lately, seeing you so hungry for him takes him aback. The surprise, however, isn’t unwelcomed. As a matter of fact, he looks at you with stars in his eyes – elated that a girl like you, can want him so much. A simple stranger, yet one that has already turned his life around in the few hours you’ve got to spend together.

“Fuck, I can’t refuse shit to my pretty one” he smiles, fingers caressing your cheeks.

You are quick to free his hard cock of all fabric, taking an instant to admire it. Its size is impressive – though proportional, considering how tall and large he is; and from the way it looks, proud and beautiful, you can only crave it more. Your hands wrap at the base and give a few slow strokes, fingers exploring his length curiously. His tip calls for the warmth of your mouth, and you yield; your tongue licks gently, descending to the shaft before you leave a soft kiss to the tip. You look up, the sight of his immense body folding under your delicate touches. And the second you take him in, welcoming his cock in the tender embrace of your cheeks, he is nothing but a mess, big hands pushing your head closer as you choke a bit on his length.

“You can take me in, can’t you?”

You whine a response with a mouth full, proving him just right as he reaches the back of your throat. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes, making them look like celestial skies, and you ravish at the way you make him feel. His heavy panting and the occasional swearing leave you more wet than you already are, and it takes everything in you to keep going instead of stopping and fuck yourself on his dick. However, patience has never been one of your virtues, and you let him go in a sloppy “pop”. His hand comes to your face, forcing you to look at him as he looks for an answer.

“I’m sorry Taiga, but I can’t wait any longer” you confess.

He helps you up, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips, which startles you. You couldn’t expect such response to what you just did and said, but the more you get to know him, the more you understand that he isn’t your average guy. No, where another man would be impatient and apathic, Kagami is surprisingly kind, perfectly understanding you and your body and indulging into you without thinking twice. He is genuine in a way that makes your heart flutter, so you really can’t blame yourself for wanting him so deep in you, that he forever leaves his mark.

“How does my pretty one want me, hm?”

“I don’t fucking care, I just want you.”

He laughs taking you by the hips before laying you back on the bench. As he spreads your legs wide for him, you look at his figure hovering over you. He is incredibly beautiful; you reflect at the sight. Beside his divine body, his face is one that you wish to always see, one that you’d paint the portrait of.

And it just strikes you at this moment, that you might actually be in love with his face.

Maybe it is truly love at first sight, as absurd as it sounds, maybe it just was a destined encounter. How else can you explain that you feel just right for each other? That he knows how to please your body without you having to say anything? How else can you explain the absolute bliss you feel hearing him groan in your ear? Or the way his hips buck harder when you chant his name like a prayer?

“So fucking good” he grunts as his fingers find your clit.

Your eyes barely stay open, but in a last moment of control over your blissed out body, your finger hook the ring around his neck, pulling him towards your face. Your lips find his in yet another of these heated, needy kisses. Your moans get lost in his mouth and you shake, feeling your orgasm approaching.

“Taiga…” you try to warn him.

“Fuck, are you cumming, yeah? Are you gonna milk me, pretty one?”

You fail to word out an answer, instead whining like the needy girl you are. So needy, for him, for all of him. His thrusts keep going till you finally reach your climax, his name leaving your lips as you feel your insides explode. He keeps going, your clenching walls taking him to the edge. Just as he feels himself on the verge of his own orgasm, he pulls out, stroking his cock till you hear your name in a moan, hot strings of white painting your chest. And everything that you’ve imagined since first meeting him, all these thoughts you were ashamed of and try to repress, they all suddenly take a taste of reality.

Because in Taiga’s attempt of making you his, you’ve ended up making him yours.

“It’s still raining outside” he remarks as he pulls your tired body towards his.

He strokes your hair while you listen carefully to the drops falling on the roof. It sounds like the rain has calmed down, but it is not your intention to leave anytime soon.

“I just kinda want to stay with you till the rain stops, and maybe even after.”

[rollercoasterwords]

Hi rae!

I was on a 4 hours bus ride today and naturally i spent some of that time thinking about the last chapter of atwmd so i have questions fy

If remus was indeed on a mission that night and if his mission was to keep sirius away, what would happen if s didn't see r and got out of the club with a random person? Would r allow it, would he interfere or maybe flirt with s himself bc like when s went to him he didn't stop s but would he initiate something as well if he had to?

4 hour bus ride! fun...or not fun depending on how comfortable the bus was i suppose...

anyway. feel like i can't really answer this question without giving stuff away but. in the hypothetical situation that this was a mission & s left w someone else...well honestly idk what would have happened bc that's not what i wrote lol but i suppose in that scenario i could have taken things a few different ways. theoretically if the goal was just 2 distract him then r could have just like. followed s & his partner & made sure s stayed distracted etc...but of course then i would have just been writing s hooking up w a stranger without realizing he was being spied on & i don't think i could have gotten 6k words out of that lmao. so if i was writing it that way (s not finding r) then more likely i would have had r insert himself somehow bc. well clearly i needed them 2 fuck...so he probably would have come over and initiated something and it would have looked incredibly awkward 2 everyone else but s would have been smitten. honestly now that i'm pondering this that sounds kind of fun maybe i should have written that instead...alas the ch is already posted. c'est la vie

[oozedninjas]

Hello!

Og anon here from the headcanons.

I completely agree with yours!

I also personally dislike the hc people have for some of the Rise Turtles. One is particular is that ppl somehow think they are all girls bc they act a but fruity or silly (mainly Leo). Idk I think bc this has also led to ppl thinking the other Leo's in other interactions are girls too.

Idk if it's small minded of me and I don't want it to be. I just don't see how it could be Canon

I had no idea this Headcanon even existed! I've only seen the initial episodes of season one, so I haven't really delved into that corner of the fandom, and truthfully, I don't have much interest in doing so. Word on the street is they carry all the fandom's drama!

Anyway, regarding your last remark, in my opinion, Fanfiction serves as a creative outlet for envisioning scenarios that deviate from or go beyond what occurs in the official storyline.

I understand that many fans gravitate towards narratives that align with their perspectives, but I personally find the beauty in the grayscale. In my opinion, the essence of fanfiction lies in our collective desire to explore the uncharted territories of different narratives. It's not about what should be considered canon or non-canon; it's about imagining possibilities that may never materialize in the official storyline.

If you ever read something you don't agree with or don't resonate with your personal views on the canon character, my advice is do not engage with it. Life's too short to ponder too deeply on these matters, my friend.

Of course, this is just my perspective; feel free to take it with a pinch of salt :)

[jurassicsickfics]

No1 asked me, but if u feel like a 2caretakers scenario: sickie, puking Alan Grant being looked after by Ian Malcolm and Ellie Sattler! Tbh idk who'd be the calm vs frazzled/anxious caretaker. Wait, i think i can guess... Hehe!

Glad to do it! Hope you enjoy!

It was a rainy day on Isla Nublar. Ellie Sattler normally would've been outside, examining the freshly dampened soil around her prized paleo plants. But, instead, she was cuddled up in bed with her boyfriend, Alan Grant, who had a nasty stomach bug. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was wearing an old beige tank top with what was probably a vomit stain on the back of her left shoulder, and leggings. She'd been holding and making over her boyfriend all day. She's gotten thrown up on 4 times now and didn't flinch any of those times. She was as cool as a cucumber.

Then there was Ian Malcolm.

Ian stood on the far side of the room, shirt pulled up over his face as he reached forward to hand Ellie a towel, then quickly stepped right back. He was trying his hardest to be empathetic and helpful, but he just did not have the stomach to deal with vomit.

All day long he'd been watching from afar, gagging occasionally, pondering how Ellie could possibly handle this with such grace. His theory was that women had a better tolerance for such things, they were wired to take care of sick children, after all. But the chaotician still couldn't wrap his head around it.

On the flipside, it took all of Ellie's willpower not to roll her eyes at Ian's recoiling and gagging. She understood that different people had different tolerances but, heck, it's just puke. What's the big freakin' deal?

As Alan jolted out of his fever induced daze and started gagging for the umpteenth time, Ellie decided against reaching for the trashcan, as this had taken too much time, and cost her a sheet change more than once. She, instead, opted to cup her hands under her boyfriend's mouth. Her logic was that, it would be faster and, he didn't have much left in his stomach anyway. And her method proved to be effective.

"Ugh...oh, jeez, Ellie..." Ian groaned, his face twisted up in a disgusted grimace.

"What?" Ellie asked, her voice and facial expression entitled nonchalant.

Ian shuddered. "You will remember to wash your hands before you eat anything?"

Ellie shook her head with a smirk and turned her attention back to Alan.

"You done, honey?" She asked, her voice soft and motherly.

"Yeah...sorry about that..." the paleontologist slurred through a fevered haze. Ellie smiled softly. "Don't apologize, baby." She cood.

Ellie dumped the small amount of vomit off her hands into a trashcan, and wiped her hands with the towel that Ian had brought her earlier.

Ian gagged into his fist. "How do you do it, Ellie? Just, please, tell me how." He said.

Ellie shrugged. "I dunno, this type of stuff just never bothered me. " she said.

Ian shuddered, but gave the paleobotanist an admiring look.

When night fell upon the island, Alan was passed out asleep on Ellie's chest as the two of them laid on the couch. Ian was across the house, bleaching everything, with a mask and gloves on.

Ellie chuckled as she watched Ian scamper from room to room with a can of Lysol, and she mumbled to herself.

"We are very different people, Ian. That's for sure."

[its-elvish-for-two]

1) I totally get forgetting to answer asks. I reblog those ask game posts all the damn time and only answer asks I get for them like. 10% of the time.

2) re: riyira crossovers I've literally been microwaving a leverage/riyira fic in my head for ages. it would be so good! Royce having to team up with Parker cause they're both thief archetypes and isn't that hilarious to ponder. he would hate it so much. "someone will die."/"of fun!" And Hadrian and Elliot with their similar backstories. They've definitely heard of each other through the murder grapevine. I can think of (I'm sorry I think this is gonna be a ramble) two ways this can go. Either they lock eyes for the first time and are immediately like

OR while they've heard of each other, they don't identify each other at first. They keep picking up on little hints and clues (Hadrian definitely has something "very distinctive" about him, unless the distinctive thing about him is that he isn't distinctive. He's fought so many places he doesn't have one particular style) until the climax of the episode they put it together and go

maybe they've even fought each other in the past!!!! that would be so juicy. but in the episode they punch some guys together and then drink beer while talking about guilt

In the episode wrap up Hadrian starts going in about how, "you mean to tell me the two of us have been doing the work of five people all this time?" and "what are we doing? let's hire some more people to riyira, take some of the pressure off." And Royce immediately shuts it down. Royce definitely gets a mini therapy session from either Nate or Hardison at some point. Hadrian has to pretend to be Sophie's sugar baby unexpectedly during a grift. Idk where that idea came from but there it is.

Another crossover I've thought of is early-days Vessar twins/Riyira. Like, imagine the black diamond and the clasp (which vax was part of) were rival gangs and Royce and Vax were old rivals or something, and now he and Hadrian have to help Vex and Vax out with a Thing (or vice versa). Vax and Royce definitely have an unspoken stealth/parkour contest going on and at one point, Vex starts flirting with Gwen which makes Royce Feel Things (the feeling is a mix of jealousy and yearning but he's never experienced it) Hadrian gets really into scritching trinket's ears and is openly in awe of vex's archery skills.

Wow, okay. That was much longer than anticipated. Yikes. Okay.

Anyway

Ttyl ily!!!!!

I was not thinking big enough. I was just going to steal plot ideas/scenarios from leverage... A Leverage/Riyria crossover though? That's genius, my friend. I am feral, I need this!

They get the job from Albert, but they meet the client in the brew pub and Nate is like, hold up, stop poaching our clients.

Parker and Royce? Working together? Comedy gold, I love this. She would annoy him so much, and yet he can't find it in himself to hate her, and he doesn't know why, which is even more frustrating.

Royce being absolutely against recruiting more people, but mostly because, as he said in Winter's Daughter, he'd have to change Riyria's name.

Hadrian and Eliot are so similar. But like, what if Hadrian only knew Eliot by his last name, and doesn't put it together, and Eliot only knows about the Tiger of Mandalin, so they take a while to recognise one another, and then Hadrian does, idk, something with three knives or something, and then Eliot's like 'hmm, very distinctive', and initially Eliot doesn't like him and by the end they are besties and it scares Hardison cuz now there's two of them?!

And Hadrian would go all out helping Sophie with a grift. He's really bad at lying but good at naturally getting people to like him, so it has mixed results.

Oh yes, you've hit on hell of an idea here, mon ami.

And Vex and Vax too! I'm still slowly making my way through critical roll so I don't know too much about them, but the competition between Vax and Royce would be so good, especially the rival gangs idea, and they're so engrossed in trying to one-up each other while Hadrian and Vex are just being archery nerds and Trinket is loving New Friend Hadrian who gives very good hugs.

I never used to be that much of a fan of cross-overs, I am very fond of sticking to canon, but you are quickly converting me with all these Riyria cross-overs, this is fertile ground for some very fun fics, so thank you!!!

[cloth0]

A rather lengthy post about my hallucination process, and how to waste a couple of hours

The setting: in The Office 8x13, when Jim and Pam bring their babies to the office, everybody is greeting them yatta yatta, and at some point Andy says about baby Philip: "He's licking on my finger just like my cat does." I remember being rather confused when I watched this scene, like... Andy has a cat?? Why I didn't know this? Why nobody (asfarasIknow) is exploiting this information for fan stuff???

But that huge discovery (!) just kinda sat in the cluttered back of my mind, collecting dust. Until today.

I was randomly recalling this scene (while taking a shower, the vapors from the scorching water really help my "creative process"), and the actual line of thought went something like:

Andy has a dog personality, and owns a cat

Oscar has a (dorky) cat personality, and owns a dog

-> cute + absolutely perfect

Uh, Angela owns multitudes of cats as well tho, how does it fit in the equation?

And so I started to connect the dots and I thought... But what if

What if after he discovers the cheating (possibly also after the honeymoons), Andy needs to speak to Angela to sort the last things out, like getting back the engagement ring etc, and maybe in the heat of the moment he's taken by spite or anyway tries to come back at Angela somehow, and

Andy: "... And I want Fili back!" Angela: "WHAT I'm not giving you Fili!" Andy: "I took her from the warehouse, I saved her. She's my cat, I want her back."

(Yup, I was thinking about the cat that Andy captured from the warehouse and gave to Angela to win her over, which in my head was i) a female cat, because yes, and ii) named Fili, which admittedly is a work-in-progress, I was trying to find a cute name that could have had a reference to the warehouse, so I went with Forklift>Foli>Fili, eh.)

And eventually Angela begrudgingly complies, and Andy finds himself with this cat, and has no idea what to do with her, but he's enthusiastic (as Andy does). The cat on the other hand is Less Than Thrilled, because cats notoriously do not like to change homes, plus she doesn't have her cat pals anymore, AND the human she's stuck with is clearly incompetent. So she strives to make her distress very clear by peeing on any available surface and staying the fuck away from Andy, engaging as little as possible (glaring at him while eating and hissing if he tries to get closer).

Andy is heartbroken. Not only her betrothed cheated on him, now not even the cat wants anything to do with him? How sad and pathetic is that? So he depressingly starts to think that maybe it's best for everybody to give Fili back to Angela.

But then one day he gets home and idk, maybe it was just a particularly bad day, maybe he blew yet another sale, maybe the whole 'missed wedding' affair just caught up with him, maybe all these things together, but he just flops on the couch and just sits there quietly, head in hands, trying to decompress and calm down.

And.

And Fili peers from a corner of the house and watches him with curiosity for a bit, then starts trotting to him, gets between his feet and starts playing with his dangling tie, which is extremely colorful as always and just so pretty. Andy opens his eyes, sees her and goes: "Oh hi".

The next morning he comes to the office with some very visible scratches on his face, to everyone's confusion/worry(/disinterest), and when Pam asks him if he is alright he just makes the brightest grin and answers: "Never been better!". And from there those two just clicked, and Fili steadily warms up to Andy, accepting to be patted and purring in return, snoozing contently on his lap while he plays his banjo/guitar, and generally do all the adorable mayhem a cat usually do, just being Andy's little princess.

After all this wild hallucination, I pondered the idea of actually writing something based on this scenario - the only real problem I saw was the 3-months period of Andy being on the damn boat. I could only see him leaving Fili to somebody he actually-really-truly trust (who? Oscar maybe? so obvious?), and when would he drop her off anyway? The entire journey's reason is for it to be a very spur-of-the-moment thing, so...

... Unless...

(that's Cooper "The Sailing Cat", check him out)

I mean?? It works???

At this point, I was totally in a "you had my curiosity, now you have my attention" mood, and started collecting some refs etc.

And it was then that I discovered that the cat that Andy captures in the warehouse is actually the same cat, Garbage, that Dwight tried to give to Angela as a present, but she refused. Which is actually Bandit, the kitty that Angela throws at ""Oscar"" on the ceiling during the Fire Drill episode, the puss on the roof if you will. Speaking of 9 lives.

Needless to say, this canon pretty much ruins my entire well-concocted (?) plan. I think I will still do something will all this brain-garbage I produced, but now I'm too fussy about it.

[simplylove101]

2023 Horror Challenge: [17/?]

↳“Maybe the truth is… is that the end was happening long before we got to this cabin. And what we're seeing now isn't the fireworks. It's just the final flickering sparks.“ Knock at the Cabin (2023) dir. M. Night Shyamalan

Plot: While vacationing, a girl and her parents are taken hostage by armed strangers who demand that the family make a choice to avert the apocalypse.

Starring: Dave Bautista, Jonathan Groff, Ben Aldridge, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Kristen Cui, Abby Quinn & Rupert Grint

Continuing my review catchup for the challenge because there's still many left to do sadly. I totally forgot about this one. lol Which is interesting because I didn't outright hate it as I expected to before watching it. I mean, it's M. Night Shyamalan. My track record with him is pretty much every so often I don't mind a movie of his. Now, I say that before saying I still was disappointed with it because it did get frustrating at parts and I did get antsy for it to end. lol It's probably the most contained movie by him, which I consider a positive in regards to his style. Definitely helps that it was an adaptation. It was well-casted with familiar faces, in particular Dave Bautista playing against type, which was a rather pleasant surprise. It was nice see Rupert, which I hadn't expected, even though it's a shame he didn't get to do more. I'm wondering if that was on purpose though. I do think the concept is pretty interesting too because it's an easy enough scenario to picture in your head but also a very big and hard dilemma to ponder as well. So plenty of positives in there but I think as it often does with Mr. Shyamalan's movies, it comes down to the execution. Depends on how you end up looking at it I guess. I will say he didn't hold back with the brutality at parts but apparently he did change the ending of the book, so I guess he kinda still hesitated with the story. Hmm. Anyway, it was sorta worth the watch but also sorta not. Idk, ultimately, it was just okay for me.

[allyriadayne]

do u think aegon is a fujoshi? he was really into the harwin/criston scene and the sight of 3 grown men tackling harwin. ok i'm asking half joking but he no doubt got some sick pleasure out of that! which also kinda ties back to the fighting pits*--it's just so "oh. the inherent eroticism permeating the normalized violence of our society. hot. say no more, will fetishize and sexualize."

*there's more to The Pits than just PleasureTM, which veers more onto self-harm/trauma recreation, but imma leave that can of worms sealed for now.

also who do u think he would love to see top aemond the most? both out of a sicko desire to see his brother forced into rectum-/penetration-related (and simplified!) sexual submission**, but also because he wants to see his stuck-up brother experience the highs and lows of prostate stimulation--because "actually. it's ok to submit bro its ok to cum from getting railed bro. it's just bodily pleasure, no deeper meaning. free yourself from the societal shameTM pervading the act of taking dick. but also. submit. to the Shaft. (but. also to me, most of all.)" because aegon's such a nice good big brother :_) touching praxis-fujoshism healing broken brotherly bond... wow. idk who this is for lmao.

**but most of all he's submitting to aegon in that scenario! where aegon is the Orchestrator--the orchestrator of the pranks targeting aemond, the orchestrator of aemond's sexual initiation, and henceforth desire (or, non-desire; or, short, TraumaTM), and the orchestrator of who knows what else! and it's a kind of gnostic paranoia pervading aemond's thought where aegon is just around the corner, ready to eat his face, and who has put arsenic in the wine and the pasta while no one was looking, and won't grandsire pleaseeee chain him to the bed again. after all, what is a big brother but a god with restricted (and thus heightened) authority and access to violence. and what do u do when that god is a drunken playful hurt and hurting freakazoid... oh aemond ur really in The Pits aren't you... and i wanna watch!

(and i think aegon has similar dynamic with jace and, by way of extrapolation on my part, daeron. (and to and extend helaena/girls-women in general, but control over boys and men is more intoxicating/gratifying in the sense where they (boys/men) are contrasted against the girline/female ontologically fixed state of hysteria/vulnerability, which retroactively creates "the boy/the man" as something intellectual, unpliable, untouchable. which makes aegon wanna chew on it even more. at least when he can muster up enough strength and interest.) this mode of control/abuse also extends to erryk, criston, gwayne, otto etc, and the other men of his later court.)

(love ur gifs btw!)

hiiiiii

to answer your very serious question, do i think aegon is a fujoshi? no, i don't think he seriously is. i think he likes these obvious displays of power, the same way the abuse of the maids ties back to him exerting the only kind of control he has over people. and obviously there IS a sexual element in the satisfaction of making people submit to him so maybe we can say he enjoys men submitting to him. does that count? idk ponder that. with the pits i mostly agree with you + the pits, the drink, the whoring all as a way of going away and forgetting he lives such a shitty caged life in the worst possible way.

i don't think aegon particularly cares who tops aemond as long as aemond is getting railed and therefore become less annoying (to aegon about his own vices). if aegon can knock aemond off that pedestal everyone puts him on, then he's content. this is why i'm going to enjoy very much when aemond comes home after storm's end and aegon throws him a party. aren't you enjoying this? aren't you enjoying the fact that for once you are worse than me? that i did good and you didn't? that mother is unhappy with you so this is my chance to finally be her favorite son? anyway

"but most of all he's submitting to aegon in that scenario! where aegon is the Orchestrator--the orchestrator of the pranks targeting aemond, the orchestrator of aemond's sexual initiation, and henceforth desire (or, non-desire; or, short, TraumaTM)" yes yes for sure, in aemond's psyche aegon is the be all and end all; he's the one who (indirectly) took his virginity, made him claim vhagar and in consequence lose the eye and develop his mommy issues, singlehandedly created aemond's other myriad of issues, and worst of all, he's going to be king. even if aegon is the worst human being he knows, he is aemond's final ambition, to be king, the first born son, to have the kind of power and authority aegon only appears to use for something other than sex when he is given the throne, to be able to feel as 'free' as he thinks aegon is (conversely, aegon thinks aemond is freer than him). but for me, aemond is nothing without aegon, without as you, say "aegon [...] around the corner, ready to eat his face" while aegon could do more or less the same without his resentful little brother under his foot, he's just too selfish and self centered!

tbh aegon's control of his little posse back in ep 6 is more of head bully and his minions kind of thing, but as he grows up i don't think he has friends/acquaintances to exert his control over so he turns to the easiest targets (aemond is boring now and thinks he's aegon's father and pretends to care too much about duty), maids and women and probably to the poor people of KL. but yes YESS when he becomes king and has the entire court and kingdom at his beck and call........i WILL enjoy it thoroughly

[unproduciblesmackdown]

throwing together a tayston moodboard to cope

[masuchu]

↻ WEARING HIS CLOTHES ?!

pairing. dazai x reader, chuuya x reader, fyodor x reader

warnings. none, fluff \(//∇//)\

a/n. purely masu rambles! no fixed scenarios rlly, just abt how they’d be if u wore their clothes °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ° it’s been so long since i’ve made an actual post, so enjoy!!

dazai —

i think dazai would audibly wail if he saw you in any item of his clothing,, honestly

he actively encourages you to steal and wear his things! he thinks it’s adorable <33

his trench coat? there’s enough room for two! his shirt? might be a little big, but take it! steal whatever you want, raid his closet for all he cares

one of his favourite sights is you in nothing but his shirt and an apron, making breakfast for him on a weekend. if god exists, then you’re definitely an angel sent from him

another of his favourite things is sharing his coat on a cold day,, oh, whats that? you forgot your coat and it’s freezing outside? no worries, love! just share his! theres enough room for the two of you and it’s perfectly cozy!!

i don’t think he’d wear your clothes, he prefers seeing you in his! if you really wanted him to, well who is he to say no? he’ll wear any warm hoodies and jumpers you have, maybe a fuzzy pair of socks too (ﾉ∀`♥)

i feel like he’s the type to purposely leave out his clothes and spy on you trying them on, then jumping out and surprising you! (ofc he’ll tease you about it, it’s dazai we’re talking about)

as much as he finds it cute, he also finds it hot,,

(idk what you were expecting :3)

just something about seeing you go about your day in his clothes, he’ll just sit back and watch you, an unreadable expression on his face ..

your wearing his clothes, it’s like he’s always with you, like your showing off you’re his.. <3

possessive dazai might make an appearance when u wear his clothes!! u just have to push the right buttons .. :b

chuuya —

FLUSTERED™ !!

he won’t know what to do with himself— quite literally. u’d probably just be staring at him questioningly, wondering why ur bf is bright red and can’t look you in the eye

“you’re.. you’re in my shirt, babe..”

“oh! yeah, sorry about that! there was nothing else to put on, you can have it back if you want :))”

as if he’s letting you take it off.

like dazai, he thinks you in his clothes is absolutely adorable, and he isn’t afraid to show it!

he’ll offer you his gloves when he notices your hands are cold, he let you under your coat if your shivering, he’ll tell you to wear his choker (cause it’s hot—) and so on!!

i think his favourite for you to wear is probably his gloves, or a pair of his gloves. it’s sentimental to him, it’s almost like you’re always holding hands (chuuya once chance please.)

he’ll definitely wear your clothes! it’ll definitely fluster you a fair few times, seeing him walk around in your light pink crop top—

“chuuyaaa, where did you put my— what the fuck.”

“what? why’re you makin’ that face..”

“you look— you’re. you are in my crop top, chuuya.”

“huh? oh, yeah. do you want it back or something?”

“NO!”

^^ something like that definitely occured, i don’t make the rules !!

i don’t know if this counts, but he’ll buy you both designer (he’s rich af, what did you expect?) matching accessories <33

cute matching gloves, fuzzy socks, shiny necklaces and chokers, hell— he’d probably by those cringy t-shirts that say ‘his’ and ‘hers’ and em’ ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ (he’d still make it hot.)

chuuya will always make you wear something of his when your both out, it reminds you both that ur always together <33

fyodor —

ah, fyodor, the buzzkill—

i’m jk !! a little bit

anyways. i don’t think fyodor really sees the point in wearing each others clothes, you both have your own, but he’ll still let you (it kinda grows on him tbh, fuels his possessiveness.)

it probably started when he left his hat laying around somewhere accidentally, and you stumbled across it while pondering around

of course, you had to try it on, how would he ever know!

except he walked through the door a second later and found you doing impressions of him in the mirror— mortifying, if i say so myself !!

since then, he’s been keen to indulge you in your cute want to wear his things.

he’ll say he doesn’t have a favourite thing to see you in, but he has small (read: very large) love of you wearing his coat/cape thingy (what is it someone please tell me.)

just the sight of you all bundled up in it, visibly happy, cozy and warm, really makes something creep up in his chest. he doesn’t know what, but it’s pushing it way into his heart and his only instinct is to pull you close to him and hold you

(another edition of bsd men that can’t admit they’re in love, pt1: chuuya, pt2: fyodor!)

he won’t wear your clothes, sorry guys :( he doesn’t see the point, if you ask him too, he’ll just say “no thank you, i’d rather not.”

but as i’ve said, he’s more then happy to let you wear his things! as long as he doesn’t need them in the moment, you can take them.

he will tease you about it, by the way! you aren’t getting off that easily! he’ll say things like “aw, dear. do you love me that much?” or “oh? you want to wear my clothes, love? how sweet..”

but all in all, fyodor doesn’t really understand why you want wear his things, but he’ll let you regardless, because he loves you <33

[freshmanyearhistoryteacher]

Cw: NSFW thoughts

Hello! I’m literally so happy that I found your guy’s blog! I think this is such a cool idea for people that just wanna read different scenarios or for kinky things lmao. Anyways hahah I have an nsfw request! I think it would be cool to have a male English teacher make the student (afab preferred but non-binary/male is cool) like sit on a vibrator or something and read old literature. Each time the student messes up he makes them restart and like degrades them? Idk I think it would be interesting to read!! Cool if not!

-😜

This might be the fastest i have ever answered an ask lmao i have ones from literal months ago... like 4-5 months old just sitting there w a i t i n g. but i fill this new one instead heheh (i wrote this the day you sent it in i just queu stuff so i can have days off with uni)

epic ask.

Word count: 1, 345

Warning, contains:

pet names like brat and good girl

No actual touch between the teacher and student

Toys ;)

The reality of your situation hadn’t quite hit you until you felt the buzzing over your clit and the old poetry book was being handed to you. Somehow, your teacher had decided that forcing you to read with the promise of ‘orgasmic pleasure’ was the only way to motivate you… not that you could be that mad. You spent half of his class imagining what it would be like to have him touch you, whisper in your ear, what it would sound like when he moaned. It was cold too, so the buzzing and warmth from your core radiated on your freezing thighs with only his suit jacket covering your upper half. Your shirt had been ripped off when you decided to see how he reacted to a brat which, you had quickly learnt, was through punishment (funishment). Your bra had quickly followed, and then his hands moved to cup your exposed chest. His hands were massive over your body as he massaged and teased you, pinching and pulling at your skin. You could feel your insides tightening at the mere thought.

It was almost more embarrassing that he couldn’t see the vibrator over the desk between you, yet he knew it was there and was able to see the way your face contorted the moment he switched it on. The thought that it was weird he had this at school occured for only a second before your mind began buzzing in time with the toy. God, it was like your nerves were being strung out and abused but it felt so fucking good.

“Go ahead,” he chuckled as he leant back in his office chair and kicked his feet onto the hard wooden desktop. He looked so good you barely remembered what you were meant to be doing between his jawline and the urge to grind on the vibrator under you. Your chair was far less comfortable and the wooden edges of the legs cut into your legs but it felt all too good to move. “Read for me, brat.”

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint… quaint and uh-” you stuttered in soft huffs of air, biting your lip as you began to lose your place on the page. It was a mess of words and letters all floating around as your body rocked slowly on its own accord. Your skirt rode higher each time you squirmed until anyone walking in would see the lack of underwear beneath the thin fabric.. as if the half rolled down tights hadn't made it obvious. Of course, this had been the day you decided there was no real point to underwear if you had tights on- some might have called it a mistake but it was turning out to be a blessing. He had called you ‘good’ for it too, which made your ears burn with embarrassment and eagerness to hear it again.

“Restart,” he said and you looked up bewildered. “I said,” he gave you a pointed and disappointed glare before returning to complete disinterest, “that if you mess up, you have to restart, i don’t care how long this takes. I don’t care how many times you fuck up, how many times you cum.” he was saying it all like it made perfect sense but your body was brought to life by the way he worded it. How many times you cum? You could spend all day here without a care, moaning and cumming, making a mess on the chair and floor until he broke and fucked you over the tabl…. “Understand?” You nodded. “Words.”

“Yes,” you whispered “Yes who?” “yes, sir,” you whined and he smirked before gesturing to continue.

“Once upon- fuck,” you shifted your hips in an attempt to move the unforgiving vibrations away but instead exposed the nerves and felt yourself jump in shock. It felt so fucking good it was nearly too much to handle. “Once upon a- god… wait, ok fuck.. god.” He was trying to hold in his sadistic laughter with little success which earned a narrow eyed death stare in his direction.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more.’, “

You had somehow made it through the first paragraph with success, hands itching to reach down and move the vibrator, the rocking of your hips served to do little to nothing for your growing need. This was far harder than you expected.

“Good girl,” he growled in a low praise, catching your attention and taking you off guard. You moaned, shamefully and with burning red cheeks, and his head rolled back as if it was unbelievable how tempting that sound made you. His throat bobbed and body tensed and relaxed, shifting to give the hardening cock room. “Go, read brat.”

It was much harder to grasp the second paragraph, not that the first made much sense to you at all. “each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floo- FUck, fuck, oh,” your hips were bucking as you tried to read and the familiar feeling of your stomach twisting before you came began to swell inside. The chair under you was creaking with the force of your movements but you cleared your burning throat and tried to restart. “Each sep-” he cut you off.

“The whole thing, brat,” he laughed in a low tone, eyes darker then they had been before. You knew hunger wasn’t as emotion but fuck he looked like he was about to strike, like he was some hunter stalking its prey.

“The whole thing?” your voice wobbled and came out slightly too high pitched. Moans slipped out between sounds and your teeth returned to your lip as soon as you’d spoken to keep the whimpers in.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” He was trying to kill you, you mentally whined but started anyway.

“Each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor,” fuck, fuck, fuck, it felt far too good. “From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore-” your legs were shaking, mind fuzzy, and hands gripping the book tight enough for you knuckles to turn white. He seemed to notice.

“Are you struggling?” he asked like it wasn’t entirely obvious. You nodded and he faked a smile of pity. “Awe brat, do you wanna come for me? Hmmm?” You nodded and nodded, the moans now slipping out freely. "Please," you begged and he was leaning closer now, feet moving off the desk. Your faces were barely an inch apart from how far over he was leaning and your vision was blurry enough to make your noses accidentally bump. "Please who?" he whispered so close you felt the breath on your lips. "Please sir," you cried. "Ok, cum for me brat, go on." The second he said that he brought a hand under your chin and drew your lips together. It was so soft, so gentle, as the unstoppable waves of pleasure began to role through your body and tear your mind apart. You were right on the edge and the kiss was nearly impossible to maintain. You were moaning, whining into his mouth, his lips pecking and tasting yours with a grin. You were cumming, hard, back arching and body grinding down into the chair, but he kept his hand roughly holding your chin with the same slow kisses. It was a terrifying contrast to the overstimulated feeling of your stomach spasming and nerves twitching. When you had finished, he kissed your forehead and sat back, his hand drifting to his lap and beginning to undo his pants. The issue was the vibrator was still attacking your core and your body was already spent, leaning all of your weight into the chair and desk.

"No one said stop, brat."

[hazelnut-u-out]

here's your request @joycew-blog !!

this was a lot of fun to write! honestly, i didn't see myself enjoying writing this dynamic, but it was really fun to play around with the soft side of their relationship.

it's a pretty short one, but i think that's okay. i reread it and i think a shorter piece really feels right.

anyway, i hope you like it and thank you for the request!! i'm having such a fun time with writing all of these :) (i did deviate a *bit* from the original prompt)

-idk if this would be considered fluff?? comfort??

-1504 words

------

Rick’s hand flexed over the cool shell of the horn.

Fuck Summer.

The old man made a mental note to up the prices on the reward vending machine…

and put some more distasteful files in her chores folder.

He had been livid when his granddaughter had explained that Nimbus had sent her back- with the fucking horn.

He hated himself for not being able to stay angry with her, though. One exaggerated sigh and he was over it.

He’d be damned if he let her know that, though.

Still, fuck Summer. Whether he was angry with her or not.

Now, Rick stood basking in the orange glow of the evening, the sand warm between his toes.

He’d rolled up his khaki’s, slipped off his loafers and socks, and let himself enjoy the warm blanket of the sand over his feet on the walk there. He was just far enough, now, that his feet were buried only inches from that band of wet sand being lapped up by the ocean.

Rick let his mind wander, wondering what it would be like to be a little shell or a grain of sand. So easily swept back out to sea just as he had found purchase on the mainland. He thought the scenario tragic, yet… enviable.

He would never have to worry about commandeering his own actions. It might be scary to sink to the dark abyss of the bottom of the ocean- to be fought over by crabs and fish- but, at the end of the day, it was a hell of a lot better than being who he was.

Rick wished he’d never had to feel anything.

Then again, maybe he was lucky to have felt something. He’d often subscribed to the philosophy that pain was not a way to find peace, or a way to earn redemption, but a manifestation of the torture one deserved. That’s why he was so happy to bask in it. He’d made his bed. Now, to lie in it.

And it was full of broken glass.

Now, though, he stood on the beach. The warm breeze tittered in his ears and kissed his cheeks; his coat was draped over one bent arm, dancing with the little spirits of the wind; one lithe, bony hand splayed out over that horn hanging by his side, and Rick toyed with the notion that maybe- just maybe- he’d spent so much time wrapped up in those linens of agony to be able to appreciate the beauty in this moment.

Rick glanced at his watch.

8:06pm

Nimbus was late.

The old man loosed a sigh and let himself plant his bottom in the sand. He sat all of the belongings he’d been holding in one little pile at his side, not really caring if little bits of sand made their way into the fabric.

He curled his body over his bent knees, hugging his ankles with his hands and pushing his feet out just enough for the water to caress the tips of his toes. He rested his cheek on the scratchy fabric of his pants that was bunched up at the knee, looking out over the horizon of the water.

A strange sort of longing settled over him, veiling his senses in a shroud of indistinguishable pondering.

It was more of a feeling- a lull on the inside of his ribs- than it was a thought of words and substance.

Maybe it was the atmosphere or the fact that he was alone; maybe even some entity out there from that peachy horizon that had decided Rick needed to break; but tears formed in his eyes.

For once, he didn’t try to pull them back in. He didn’t tell himself that he didn’t deserve to cry for them- for her, for what he didn’t do, for himself- but… he told himself that he did.

He did deserve to cry.

So, they cascaded down his face, and Rick let them soak into the fabric of his pant leg.

It wasn’t a violent sort of weeping, but just one of soft mewls and gentle cries. They were so quiet that the wind picked them up and carried them off. Rick thought that, wherever they skittered off to, they weren’t trapped anymore- they weren’t caged deep within his body, mind, or soul.

They were free of existing only as pain.

“Richard.”

The bellowing sneer of his name from behind him startled Rick, piercing the calm atmosphere of the beach, and he frantically wiped at his face. He hoped the other man couldn’t tell that he’d been crying as he lifted his head and turned his neck to face him.

Nimbus was already walking, arms crossed and his lazy trajectory circling to stand over Rick. He loomed above, blocking out the auburn rays of the sun, and, for a moment, he looked angry and cold. As soon as Nimbus met Rick’s gaze, though, his callous expression fell.

“Richard, are you-“ he whispered softly, slowly crouching down to look into Rick’s face at eye-level, before Rick cut him off.

“I brought your fucking horn,” Rick spat, trying to spin his words in a web of lethality but failing when his voice wavered halfway through the sentence. He turned his face away from the other man abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t notice his tear-stained cheeks and flushed expression, jutting his chin out harshly to indicate that the horn was under his coat.

“Mmmm…” Nimbus hummed, a noise deep from within his chest. He retracted the hand that now hovered only centimeters from where Rick’s face was before he’d pulled away.

In an odd sort of low demeanor, which was out of character for Nimbus, his nemesis sat himself atop the sand next to him.

Rick couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man, instead opting to lay his head back on the tops of his knees and stare out at the ocean.

He didn’t have the energy to ask Nimbus why he had bothered to sit down, nor did he have the energy to stop the tears that wanted to keep falling.

Rick could tell that Nimbus was watching his face closely.

Then, suddenly, there was a hand on his back, rubbing faint circles over his shoulder.

If looking back, Rick might have found it comical what happened next. Maybe it was because something about the warmth of a hand on his back- the hand of someone who wasn’t obligated by some bullshit notion of family or normalcy- was grounding. Maybe it weighed him down, anchoring him to the sand. Maybe it was because the sheer concept of someone extending any ounce of kindness to a rotten old shell of a man who didn’t deserve it was lightening, freeing. Maybe it lifted him up.

Maybe it stitched him back together and maybe it pulled him apart, but, for whatever reason or implication, a single harsh sob trembled his body.

He made an odd sort of noise from the back of his throat, something between a laugh and a cry, and then…

He leaned into Nimbus’s touch.

“Why do you bother to-to try? Every time I s-see you, it’s… you’re willing to… something inside of you is kind to-towards me,” Rick murmured, partially hoping that his words would get lost at sea.

Then again, if they did, Nimbus would just find them eventually- and, like a message in a bottle, he’d answer just as he did then.

Nimbus’s voice was a velvety gravel over the white noise of the ocean when he spoke.

“Why not? You’re a person. Shouldn’t someone be?”

It was a long moment before Rick breathed out a reply.

“I’m not a better person, ya know,” he murmured. Nimbus let out a little puff of a laugh from his side, but stayed quiet, thumb still dancing in soft circles over Rick’s skin. “I haven’t put the work into getting better. I’m-I’m not good. I haven’t been t-trying to be.”

Rick let out a long sigh, letting his eyes flutter closed as the sun was pulled closer to the horizon.

“Life’s funny like that, Richard,” Nimbus muttered. “You don’t always have to try to heal. Sometimes, it just sneaks up on you, and then you realize you’re different than you used to be. You don’t always have to deserve the kindness that finds its way to you. I think… sometimes kindness just deserves to find you.”

Rick opened his eyes, allowing his gaze to flitter over to the man at his side. Nimbus had turned his face away from Rick’s at some point, his nose now an angled slope stark against the darkening sky.

Rick wasn’t sure what possessed him to speak again. It would have felt natural for all other words to die there, rot in their own little graves amongst the shells and birds so that the men could sit in silence- but he did anyway.

“But… why? Why you?”

Nimbus shrugged, damp skin glistening in the ambiance of that tangerine glow. “I’m Mr. Nimbus.”