#if this is weird i’m sorry idk

[zorosdimples]

yuuta eats you out like he wants to unravel your very being. he’s calculating and methodical in his approach, taking measurements with his unnerving gaze and approximating the level of attention you require. while he always leaves room for excess—

“anything for you,” he breathes, lips smearing against the curve of your hipbone.

—he prefers to work meticulously. he frets; he worries; he strives for perfection, always. there is no margin of error, no room for him to err by a millimeter or two. his goal is absolute: he must unspool you completely so he can wind you back up, again and again and again.

(as good as new—better, even.)

he doesn’t tease you simply for the sake of teasing, though he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t enjoy the quaver of your thighs or the rise and fall of your chest. but it’s necessary to begin gently, his touch gossamer as he plucks at the seams of your sanity, caressing and stroking and licking along each individual stitch.

his controlled movements make it a languorous process to work you up; you only get to orgasm once he has earned it, after all—once he has counted and examined every thread of desire in your body under a microscope, then sated each one. slow licks and featherlight rubs give way to thorough laps and wet sucks.

it’s never a surprise—but always a shock—when his nimble digits enter you. they reach so deep, like he’s hollowing you out before laying you flat. he memorizes the ridges and slopes and edges of your pattern with his fingertips (as though he doesn’t know the exact spot that forces you to come undone).

once he uses both his fingers and his tongue, you’re quick to finish with a silent scream. the intensity of your climax is almost agonizing; it wrings all the energy from your body, leaving you a shivering shell. but yuuta is beside you the whole time. he picks up your pieces with a smile, and sews you back together—again and again and again.

[moraent-keys]

*throws this spicynoodles animatic at you* 🔥🍜

[next-hero-in-line]

Colored version be upon ye

[itsghostlost]

But there’s a cooler and better Italian

[tempestmothstorm]

crazy how the sanshee plush is one of the few actual direct confirmations on what a non-act 2 Natsuki’s home life is like because of how cagey she is on literally everything. Like this isn’t anything surprising or something you wouldn’t be able to extrapolate from the games but unlike everything else we know about her the implications are right there on the tin.

They literally did the character bio trope where where all the likes are normal but the dislikes are about their very specific trauma it’s just so funny they did that on the plushie card

[emry-stars-art]

Okay listen. When I decided to give squid Jean (squean) bite marks/scars last year I was just making it make sense that he lived with a pod of orcas who thought it was super fun to scare him and threaten him, I didn’t know tsc would come out and make that detail somehow 100x worse

Someone get this kid to Whalemack and Abby stat :( thank you Renee

Find the mer aus masterpost here

[sammygender]

not indirecting anyone but i keep seeing the take that sam has power over dean because dean is so attached to and dependent on him. like it’s everywhere. and its just soooo fundamentally flawed. that is not how anything works. not to sound like a broken record but that type of dynamic (where one partner, the aggressor, views themselves as in fact controlled/dictated by the whims of the other) is actually very standard in an abusive relationship…

whether or not sam has ‘power’ over dean in this way is functionally irrelevant because his ‘power’ extends to his ability to somehow, what, psychically manipulate dean into doing what he wants?? whereas dean’s ‘power’ over sam is making sure sam adheres to exactly what he’s decided sam should do and punishing him if he doesnt do that, and deciding he has ultimate control over sam’s own decisions about his life (see main plot events of s4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, so on and so forth…).

[andorerso]

Rogue One + zodiac signs

[rodolfoparras]

What about the first time with Eddie? 👉👈

I imagine he’s a bit hesitant at first, but once you get into it he’s a lot more vocal and enthusiastic, even tries riding you

Nothing Compares

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Top Male reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, anal fingering, riding, rimming, porn with feelings

A/n: pls excuse any mistake and ooc moments, I redid a huge part of it earlier today and I have been kind of working on this for days so I’ve become blind to the smaller details rip anyway than u sm for your request and I hope you enjoy it! (Also look at that banner I’m so proud)

“You know,” you begin, voice ever so gentle as you caress his bare skin “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I’m perfectly fine with just kissing or watching movies or whatever you’d want to do instead”

“I want to,” he says, tone firm and eyes full of confidence. “You’ve done so much for me, for my son, for us, I trust you,” he says before gently cupping your face and kissing your lips.

He only pulls back far enough to rest his forehead onto yours, noses brushing together as he once again repeats his words “I trust you,”

You look at him, eyes filled with tears before you blink them back and kiss him firmly on the lips

“I love you so much” you say in between kisses, feeling a flood of emotion bubbling up in your gut when you hear him giggle.

“I love you too” There’s a soft smile on his face as he meets your gaze, eyes swirling with emotion that you’re sure can be found in your own irises.

He says one last thing before he allows you to strip the clothes off the two of you.

“Just….you know.. go easy on me” he says, teeth nervously nibbling on his bottom lip.

“Always”

Eddie’s sprawled out on your bed, legs spread apart and knees tucked into his chest.

From where you lay you can see his dark locks splayed out onto his pillow case.

As you drag your gaze along his throat, you see the way his St. Christopher necklace spills onto his collarbones and the way it glimmers from where the light hits it.

You continue to trail your gaze down the valley of his peck and onto his abdomen where his hard cock lays.

Eventually your eyes land upon puckered hole, and you can’t help the thought that occurs.

Beautiful, so beautiful, you think to yourself before you swipe your tongue along the cleft of Eddie’s ass, eyes peering up at him to see the way his head lolls back, and he lets out a gasp. “Oh- oh God”

“You alright?” You say, voice sounding breathy and strained.

“Yes,yes I’m good, just- just keep going” he says voice sounding just as breathy and strained.

You deliver another broad stroke with your wet tongue before slowly circling his puckered hole, feeling his heels dig into your back as he claws at the mattress.

“Ah fuck!” He cries out, and lifts his head to meet your gaze. “Don’t- don’t tease please “

You only hum in response, before slowly working your tongue into the tight ring of muscles.

“God oh god! ” Eddie cries out, head trashing side to side, as his heels dig further down into your back.

Drool’s dribbling down the cleft of his ass, eager finger leaving marks on his skin and his musky scent engulfs your senses as you continue to lick into him.

Slowly but surely the tight channel becomes ever so unresisting under your tongue , and with each swipe, Eddie seems closer to losing his mind

“More, more more please i need more,” he sobs out, hands frantically clawing at the mattress.

But instead of doing as he says, you stop and pull away, leaving him looking absolutely bewildered. “No, no, no, why did you stop?!“

“Shh, sweetheart, I won’t leave you hanging, you know I won’t” you say, as you kiss his thighs in reassurance “Would you mind getting the lube for me? It’s on the drawer to the left”

You can’t help but smile at the way he almost jumps up to get the bottle, hair in complete disarray and sheets clinging onto his limbs, even almost falling face first onto the floor when he rolls back onto the bed.

You take the bottle from him, a small thanks slipping past your lips as you pour a generous amount into the palm of your hand “You still okay? We can stop at any moment” you say while warming the lube up between your fingers.

“No please don’t stop” he says almost too quickly and you can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness.

Your hands find his legs again, propping them up and tucking his knees into his chest before your finger finds his rim, and gently circle it.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, body relaxing into the sheets as a breathy sigh escapes his lips.

“Mm that’s - that’s really nice” he says, voice slightly cracking as he speaks and you can’t help the endeared smile on your face as you look down at him.

Cute

You continue circling his puckered hole, relaxing the muscle as much as possible before sliding the tip of your finger inside him.

Immediately you feel goosebumps raise on his skin where you’re resting your hand on him , body slightly tensing as a shaky breath escapes his lips

“You okay?” You ask, stopping your movements complety to look up at him.

“Mm just- just- go slow yeah?,” he says body still tense as he runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“Of course“you say as before you gently work the tight ring of muscles, eyes glued to his and gauging his reaction.

He continues to take deep breathes, eyes squeezed shut and hands clinging onto the mattress but as soon as you’re down to the second knuckle of your index finger you hear soft moan rolling off of his lips “Mm ah- just just - just like that ”

“Feels good?” You ask as you you continuously massage the wall of nerves under your fingertips.

He looks down at you, eyes half lidded, and mouth agape while nodding his head “So so good, keep going please”

Slowly but surely you work a second finger into him, altering between grazing the wall of nerves and scissoring your fingers.

“Oh, oh god, please, please please” he whines out, almost grinding down onto your hand.

“Just wait a bit, yeah? I promised I’d take care of you didn’t I? Just let me do so yeah? I’ll take such good care of you I promise” You say while continuously moving your fingers inside him.

He almost wants to protest but agrees anyway, body relaxing into the sheets as he allows you to whatever you want with him

“Good boy” you coo before working a third finger inside of him, drawing more moans out of him and watching the way precum pools on his abdomen.

Eventually the last bit of patience trickles out of Eddie, body thrashing under your grip as pleas continuously tumble past his lips “Come on come on come on im ready please just please fuck me” he whines out, arm thrown over his eyes as his heels dig into your back.

You chuckle at his eagerness but gently slide your fingers out of him, watching the way he winces before a look of anticipation makes its way on his face.

You make quick work of getting the condom and the bottle of lube from earlier, pulse roaring in your ears as you shuffle closer to him, and hands shaking as you roll the condom onto your dick. But you stop completely in your step, hearing yourself take a shaky breath as you take in the sight of the man sprawled out your bed.

“Maybe I need a moment “ you say more to yourself, letting out a laugh before resting your head onto one of his thighs.

He chuckles at that, before you feel his hand trace soothing patterns onto your back. “Take your time” he says, sounding playful but endeared as well.

There’s a moment where the only sound that can be heard is the fluttering from the fan, along with the random assortment of noises coming from outside the window.

His hand is a welcome weight on your body, skin ever so warm as it presses against your cheek and slowly but surely you feel the tension bleeding out your body.

You slowly raise your head to meet his gaze, and as you do you see the way he’s nibbling on his lip while his eyes shift around the room as if preparing himself to ask you something.

“Hey hey hey, is something the matter?” You say with a confused look on your face while giving a gently squeeze to his leg.

Eddie shifts on the bed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he nervously swallows before he finally says something.

“Can I ,, I mean I’d like to you know…ride you,” he says, before he turns his gaze away, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and nervously nibbling on it again.

You blink at him in surprise, before you let out a groan, loud enough to slightly startle the other man.

“Good god Eddie you’re going to be the death of me” you say head burying back into his leg. You immediately feel the tension bleed out his body as a laugh tumbles past his lips.

“So is that a yes?” He says, still sounding a bit bashful while tracing random patterns onto your skin.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah that’s okay with me how do you want me?” you say as you scurry to get off of him.

“Eager” he teases, seemingly much more relaxed now. “Lay down on your back,” he says while gesturing for you to lay down where the headboard is.

“You don’t even know,” you say in response to his comment, not even wasting a second before you lay sprawled out on the bed with a pillow under your head.

He easily straddles your waist, hands resting on your chest to brace himself.

The unsure look bleeds back onto his face, hands fiddling on your chest as he chews on his bottom lip again.

“Eddie,” you say tone as firm as your grip on his hips. “I’m not expecting anything show stopping here. It’s just me and you spending some time together like we always do, just with a little less clothes on” you say with a chuckle but squeezing his hips to bring home your point. “And like I said if you’re not sure about this yet we can just do something else,” you say with a gentle smile on your face, hand reaching out to brush away the hair from his eyes.

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes following your hand before he grabs ahold of your wrist, voice as firms as his hold when he speaks “I want to but,” he pauses, and harshly swallows before he speaks again “I’m -you know uh new to this so please bear with me,” he says before he lines your tip up with his hole, and slowly pushes it past his puckered rim.

“Jesus christ!,” you grunt out, feeling as if your breath’s been punched out of your lungs.

Eddie takes a shaky breath, hands adjusting on your chest as he continues to lower himself.

“You alright?” You say through a strained breath, thumb gently caressing his hip.

“Yeah” he manges to say, brows pinched together and mouth agape as he continues to lower himself.

“Just like that baby, keep going, you can do it, I know you can” you say through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering shut and doing your best not to buck up into him.

Finally he bottoms out, your balls now firmly pressed against his ass, and he lets out a mewls at the feeling of being so stretched out around your cock.

“You alright?” Eddie asks you, throwing his words back to you, with a shaky smiles on his face while adjusting his hands on your chest.

“Jesus Christ, i'm more than alright, feels - ah feels so so good baby, you don’t even know how good you’re making me feel '' you say between labored breaths, thumb gently caressing his hip again “What about you, pretty ? How do you feel?”

“Feels, feels ah so full” he mewls out while experimentally rocking his hips.

“Ah fuck!” You cry out, head lolling back as you slightly buck up “dont- don’t think I’ll be able to last long- already- already feels so fucking good”

Eddie slowly starts picking his hips up, working himself up your cock only to slam himself back down again”Ah- ah God!” Eddie gasps out, back arching when he gets the angle just right.

“Fuck just like that Eddie, fuck yourself on my cock,” you grunt out, eyes fluttering shut as you buck up to meet his thrusts.

Slowly but surely he becomes more confident, his movements becoming much more pronounced as he loses himself in pleasure.

“Feels so so good” he moans out, head lolling back, moving so fast he’s basically bouncing on your lap.

Once again you can’t help but admire him, from the way his dark locks stick to his forehead, to the way his St. Christopher's necklaces dangles over your face, even in the way his defined abdomen glistens from the precum that’s smeared all over it.

“Close so close please” he moans out, and those words manage to snap you out of your daze as your hands tighten on his hips while bucking up into him again.

“Come on pretty you can do it, I know you can. Make yourself cum on my cock just like I know you can” you say before wrapping one hand around his dick and stroking him, that’s all it takes for him to starts unraveling, coming with a cry and spurting ropes of cum on both your abdomens, with you tightly following close by.

Once the two of you clean up and get back into bed, a comfortable silence falls over you as you bask in each other’s presence.

Suddenly Eddie bursts out laughing and as you meet his gaze, you burst out laughing as well.

“Fuck I love you,” you say through a breathy laugh before you pull the sheets over the two of you.

“Love you too,” he says as he places a kiss to your chest, before his eyes flutter shut and his breathing slows down.

Nothing compares to this, you think to yourself before you drift of to dreamland.

[kagoutiss]

green beetle black beetle

[otrtbs]

BARTYLUS BASEBALL THING

(inspired by this which haunts my thoughts 24/7)

Word Count: 5.2k

Part: 1/?

Summary: every summer begets the baseball tournament of the year. barty drags regulus to the opening game, kickstarting a series of unintended events.

Barty’s whole body hums, the way it always does when he’s around Regulus. Like the old TV his father has that crackles to life in static whirs, or the green boxes in the neighborhood that Barty would sit on until the sun went down. Constant electricity.

“I mean, they’ve been doing this for years now and I have been explicitly forbidden from going,” Regulus returns. Still, he doesn’t seem affected one way or the other. “Mother wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh, mother wouldn’t like it?” Barty snorts, mockingly. “So what? It’ll give us something to do. And it’ll give us an opportunity to see each other since your parents plan on keeping you locked up in the house all summer,” he counters, and Regulus knocks a sharp shoulder into his arm. “It’s good to stick together. Mother doesn’t have to know.”

They’re walking side by side on the pavement. Slow, shuffling feet. Hands in their pockets. It’s the last day of class for the school year. Without school, there’s no way for Barty to see Regulus. Barty went all of last summer without seeing Regulus and it was boring and brutal.

Regulus takes a hand out of his pocket and pushes the hair out of his face. The sun is bright, and it causes him to squint. “Sirius still playing?”

Barty nods. “Yeah. He’s still on the James Potter all-star team. I heard Potter even talked Frank Longbottom out of retirement for one last summer.”

“He’s only two years older than us,” Regulus scoffs.

“Still, he didn’t play last summer.”

Regulus nods slowly.

They walk down the pavement silently, dragging footsteps, trying to delay the inevitable.

“It is good to stick together.” Regulus looks at Barty and traces the bruise on his cheek with his finger lightly. Barty is proud of the way he doesn’t flinch, even if the bruise is still tender and aching. He’s not so proud of the way he leans into the touch, even if it hurts.

This entire time, Barty was worried about leaving Regulus alone for a summer with no one but his parents for company. Now he thinks Regulus was equally worried for him, for the same reasons.

“But, I don’t like baseball,” Regulus muses, pulling his finger away.

“No, but you like me,” Barty grins wickedly. “Besides, we’ll just make fun of the whole thing, and I’ll steal my dad’s liquor and we’ll make it fun.”

Regulus pretends to think about it, but it doesn’t matter. Barty knows him. He knows Regulus is going to give in.

The summer baseball tournament is a local legend among the neighborhood kids, and the kids from surrounding neighborhoods too. The first baseball game began five years ago after they knocked down an old rickety building and reduced it to rubble. It didn’t take long for the land to reclaim the area and grow into tall stalks of grassy growth. That’s when, at age 12, Frank Longbottom got the bright idea to turn it into a makeshift baseball field.

The first year, Frank could barely get enough people together to make two teams, and it was so hot in the daylight that they never finished a full game before the kids scattered back into their air-conditioned homes. By year two, Frank had taken the entire school year to recruit people from surrounding neighborhoods and moved the games to the evening to beat the blazing heat.

This would be the fifth consecutive year that the tournament would run. Some kids still used the lot to play baseball in the winter or the spring, but this? This was official. After five years, the summer games became a thing of wonder for all of the young people in town. Anyone aged 12-17 could be on a team, you had to have nine to a team to enter, and each team wishing to compete in the tournament would have to have an official group name, a poster, and a roster. You had to submit and finalize your team two months before the school year ended.

That’s when the fun began. Students would make fliers and posters advertising their teams. Slips of copy paper folded up into tiny squares and passed down the aisles of desks to avoid the sharp eyes of teachers and administrators. The official list is always posted on the first Saturday of May. One expertly crayola, stickered, and markered sheet listing the teams, players, and field positions was nailed to the hollow oak tree stump in the woods by the creek. All the children knew where it was, and all of the adults would never stumble across it. Once the list was posted, the betting could begin.

Mundungus Fletcher and his group of friends ran the baseball betting ring. They would sit out by the old tree stump every Saturday with their journals taking meticulous notes of everyone placing bets and what they brought in. Nothing was off limits, Mundungus Fletcher accepted everything from stickers to lighters. Packs of bubble gum, nail polish, the two or three cigarettes you could manage to steal from your father, anything. Of course, not everything was of equal value. A lighter was worth two full-size candy bars (and it couldn’t be one of the bad ones like Almond Joy or 3 Musketeers they had to Reece's or Twix) and two small stickers. A nail polish was worth a rubber band ball and a blow pop. Mundungus Fletcher and his team took their jobs seriously, monitoring the conversion rates and doling out prizes. Every Saturday the children of the neighborhood would scramble, bringing in whatever they thought would be best for the pot. A few stray dollar bills, their coins, candy, lip gloss, sunglasses, bouncy balls, yo-yos, marbles, stamps, pokemon cards, queued-up mp3 players, necklaces, baseball caps, and even beloved childhood stuffed animals weren’t safe when it was time for baseball bets.

Mundungus kept all of the bets in one of his mother’s large kitchen mixing bowls, then two of his mother’s large mixing bowls, then in empty shoe boxes as things began to overfill. He said he hid all the betting goods in a secret, secure location, but Barty was pretty sure he was just keeping it all under his bed. Regardless, Mundungus would bring out the spoils every Saturday so that all of the kids in the neighborhood could see their potential spoils, provided they picked the right team. It was a great incentive to get people to partake.

As for the baseball teams, there were eight this year, the most they’d ever had. They would be competing to be number one. The winning team of the summer baseball tournament became town celebrities for the year. They always got first dibs at the carnival that came to town (they could skip the ride lines and take two turns in a row on the Ferris wheel), they got to use the tire swing into the creek whenever they wanted (they never had to wait to use it or take turns), and, because some of the older kids had jobs already, if you were on the winning baseball team you would often get free movie tickets and popcorn, or free ice cream if one of the other kids was working. There was an unspoken rule, a reverence, that the winning team had with the other kids in town, they were Gods among mortals, they would want for nothing, ask for anything, and receive it. The winning team also gets crowned with Coca-Cola canned bottle crowns that Barty thinks look stupid, but everyone else seems way too into them.

This all happens without the supervision of any adults. It was the most sacred vow that everyone tried not to break. No adults allowed. Adults always had the propensity to ruin things. They would think too hard about things, create problems that didn’t exist, and they would shut the baseball tournament down. This year, like last year, the games don’t start until one in the morning, while almost every adult is asleep soundly in their beds, getting ready for work the next morning. Of course, more than a few adults know about this tournament, and most don’t care. Regulus’ mother, like Barty’s father, is allergic to fun, so they’re both banned from going. Some kids have meltdowns over being banned from the games. Two years ago, a game couldn’t be played because two players were grounded and the team had to forfeit.

The stakes and the pressure were always high.

The stakes were high for Barty this year too, even if he wasn’t playing. He looks at Regulus as they come to the end of the street, shuffling feet. Regulus' house looms behind him, and Barty can see Walburga watching from the window on the second floor, peering purse-lipped through the curtains.

Barty’s hands stay in his pockets. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

Regulus nods. His face doesn’t waver but his eyes sparkle with secrecy. “Yeah, later.”

—

Throwing rocks at people’s windows is the worst.

Barty isn’t enthused.

First, he had to collect a bunch of rocks to stuff his pockets with on the way over, second, it was dark and there weren’t any street lights on Regulus’ street so everything looked exactly the same, and third, he was rapidly running out of rocks.

He skims them lightly at first. Tap. Tap. Tap.

They bounce off the glass of Regulus’ window in soft thuds.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jesus Christ, how long did it take for Regulus to sneak out and come down?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Barty’s annoyed now. Maybe he wasn’t throwing them hard enough?

He throws the next few with more force.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

He keeps throwing them until he’s out of rocks.

Now what?

He stands on the side of Regulus’ house, trying to squint up into the dark window. He’s not sure if Regulus would turn a light on in the house and risk it, but it looks like nothing is going on in there. Regulus had promised him that he wasn’t a deep sleeper.

Outside the crickets chirp in song and the blades of grass tickle Barty’s ankles as the night breeze causes them to sway.

Fuck it.

Barty picks up a much larger rock that’s at his feet, and forgetting himself for a moment, he throws it with all the strength of the last throw and then some. The glass breaks and shatters with a delicious noise, but Barty can't admire it, because he’s already turning on his heel and running.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Past the first house and then the second and then–

Oh.

Oh.

His feet all but screech to a halt on the pavement as he looks up at Regulus’ house. Regulus’ real house. This time he’s sure of it.

It’s not his fault everything looks the same in the dark.

Barty shrugs, trying to calm his racing heart and catch his breath as he leans down to pick up some smaller rocks from the ground.

As quietly as he can, he stalks over to the side of the house Regulus’ bedroom window is on, and starts the process over.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He uses a much lighter touch.

Thankfully, Regulus comes out after nine stones, no lights ever turned on inside the Black family residence.

“I’m surprised you don’t play,” Barty says as they walk side-by-side to the baseball field.

“Why’s that?” Regulus looks at him like he’s sprouted another head.

Barty shrugs, looking up at the waxing moon. “Your whole family does. Sirius and Andromeda are on a team. And Narcissa’s a pitcher. Bellatrix is on Tom’s team. Also a pitcher. You mean to tell me you haven’t thought about it?”

“Narcissa plays?” Regulus furrows his brows. “I didn’t know that.”

There was a lot about summer baseball that Regulus didn’t know. Barty takes it upon himself to explain on the walk over.

“There are really only three teams to beat in this tournament. Tom’s team, they’re the Death Eaters, that’s their team name. Nobody likes them and everyone is afraid of them because they play dirty. Last year, Bellatrix beamed Remus in the nose so hard that she broke it. Tom ordered it. Then you’ve got the Serpents, they’re my favorites. That’s the one Narcissa plays on. They haven’t won a tournament ever, but this is their year. Trust me. And then there’s,” Barty rolls his eyes for dramatic effect. “The Lions or whatever the fuck.”

“Horrible team name,” Regulus’ mouth twists up into a smile.

“Truly,” Barty nods. “James Potter is the captain, right-hand man is your brother, and they of course have recruited the legendary Frank Longbottom to come back and steal the baseball title from Tom’s Death Eaters. It was a huge upset when Tom’s team won two years ago, so much so that Frank quit the following year, and Tom won again, and now,” Barty shrugs. “I guess he’s back.”

“So the Lions are like the founding team?” Regulus asks, and Barty nods. He’s surprised Regulus doesn’t know this from his brother.

“Yeah, the original team. Doesn’t mean they’re gonna win though, even with Frank. Tom might actually kill somebody before he lets that happen.”

“But the Lions, they’re the favorites?”

Barty fake gags. “Depends on who you ask. Not my favorites.”

“Mine neither,” Regulus says decisively.

Barty wonders if he’s thinking about all of the lion posters and memorabilia that Sirius used to keep in his bedroom. Regulus would always complain about the bright red and gold team colors and the obnoxious designs, but he doesn’t complain about anything anymore now that Sirius’ room is empty.

Barty looked out for him then. When Sirius packed up everything and ran away to James’ house. It was odd, Regulus seemed to be the only one who knew what it was then. Walburga and Orion seemed to be in denial. Sirius would come home, it was an extended sleepover– which they were never allowed to have, Sirius would realize how good he had it and he’d come back. Only Regulus seemed to understand that they’d never live under the same roof again.

Barty was there. He was there while Regulus ranted and raved and paced and shook his fists at the sky. He was there when Regulus crumpled up like a sheet of paper and collapsed in on himself, shoulders shaking in silent cries. He was there when Sirius spent every second trying to convince Regulus to come to James’ house with him, begged Regulus to talk to him, tried to pass him letters in the street that Regulus would let fall to the pavement. And he was there when Regulus picked himself up and pretended as if the entire affair was beneath him.

They were there for each other. Alway had been. Barty would never leave like Sirius did. He wouldn’t dream of it. He’d stick around as long as Regulus would let him, as pathetic as that sounded. He’d like to think that Regulus would stick around too. Regulus with his dark eyes and all-too-serious look of someone always deep in thought. Sharp, gray eyes that narrowed in displeasure at everything. It took a lot of effort to get Regulus to smile, even more effort to make him laugh. Barty had never done something so rewarding. The surge he felt in his chest whenever Regulus would grin or laugh at something Barty had said was addicting. It made him lightheaded and delirious.

“Look what I brought,” Barty grins, pulling out the flask from his back pocket. The silver can glints in the moonlight.

Regulus’ hand reaches to grab at the flask as they walk in time. Barty likes the way their feet sound on the pavement when they’re in step. He hates that he’s been having thoughts like these more and more frequently. He can’t fucking help himself.

Regulus takes a swig and does his best not to shudder as the warm liquor lights a fire down his throat. Barty finds it slightly endearing as he raises his eyebrows at Regulus, waiting for him to cough and sputter. It never comes.

Barty watches as Regulus licks his lips and hands the flask back to Barty, cheeks pink. Barty is overcome with the desire to kiss him, to taste the honeyed bourbon still on his lips and feel the lightning bolts race through his veins, but he contains himself. Another annoying and incessant thought.

In an attempt to recover, he swings hard at Regulus’ shoulder, harder than he should, as he tuts, “Don’t drink it all, save some for the game.”

Regulus turns to him once more, face indignant as he rubs his arm where Barty has just punched. “Fuck you, I barely even drank any.”

“It looked like a big swallow to me.”

Now it was Regulus’ turn to punch Barty, but there was no heat behind it. “Fucking hell, I told you to stop swinging on me like that. I’ll break your nose next time, I swear to God.”

Barty grins. “Is that a promise?”

“Freak,” Regulus shakes his head, but he’s back to being amused.

“You love it.”

They make it to the field early, but there are already people streaming in with bright battery-operated lights for the game, talking excitedly to themselves. A team is warming up the field, practicing their swings and stretching, Barty listens to the clatter of the bleachers that someone had brought to the lot two years ago. He’s not sure how they did it.

He watches Regulus watch the scene in wonder.

“They have concession stands?” He asks, looking at the girl and boy selling things on the pavement in front of the lot. They both sit at a little plastic table with plastic chairs, their sign advertises what they're selling, crackerjack, peanuts, sodas, trail mix, lemonade.

“Uh, I guess,” Barty shrugs. “That’s new. Seems a bit much.”

Still, he buys two bags of boiled peanuts and two cokes for them anyway.

Mundungus Fletcher and his friends are there, calling out to everyone to join in the bets. Tonight is the last night to enter.

Regulus stops by and drops off a few things, about ten dollars, 4 packs of gum, sunglasses with flames up the side that used to belong to Sirius, and 5 spinning tops.

“Regulus Black,” Mundungus fills out his name in the notebook in inky black pen, carefully recording the list of everything he’s brought. “Let me guess, you’re betting it all on the Lions?”

His voice is loud and booming, with the confidence of a sports announcer but the underlying hint of deception like a used car salesman.

“No,” Regulus scowls at him.

“Oh, I just assumed because of your brother that–”

“I want to bet it all on the Serpents. I hear their pitcher is really good.”

Barty smiles as Mundungus nods. “And you Crouch? Any last-minute bets?”

Barty shakes his head. “I’ve already got over $50 in the game. I have to draw the line somewhere.”

Regulus signs on the dotted line confirming his entry and they make their way to the bleachers. Even though it’s dark out, it’s still uncomfortably warm outside. Some kids have brought battery-operated handheld fans with styrofoam propellers to keep them cool. Others have ice packs.

Barty figures that he can just sit behind someone with a fan and benefit from the airflow. The bleachers begin to fill up as the game draws closer. Kids bring signs elaborately decorated with all of their best art supplies. Glitter glue, puff paint, rhinestones, and neon markers. Some have even painted their faces.

Barty and Regulus spot Remus Lupin at the same time. He’s walking towards a group of kids scrambling to set up a radio and microphone at the announcer's table.

“One. Two. One. Two,” Remus says into the microphone and it resounds throughout the lot, as a hush falls in the bleachers.

“He’s not playing?” Regulus leans in to ask Barty, his shoulder brushing against him.

Barty shakes his head. “Not since the Bellatrix incident, no. He’s no good anymore. Flinches when the ball comes towards him, forgets to swing the bat.”

“Remus Lupin?” Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up like he doesn’t believe it. But he doesn’t have to believe it, he can see Remus take his place at the announcer's table.

Remus runs the scoreboard, calls the players up, and explains the plays for the kids who don’t really know what’s going on. Mary MacDonald helps him with the music and the score when she’s not playing, otherwise, Rita Skeeter helps out, much to the annoyance of everyone.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Regulus snorts. “What’s next, they bring out someone to sing the national anthem?”

“Don’t give them any ideas.”

The mood shifts in the stadium as they get ready to begin. Remus clears his throat in the microphone and it emits an ear-splitting feedback. Still, some kids were trickling in, sitting in the grass now that the bleachers were full.

On the other side of the field, sat the other teams that weren’t playing that night, just behind the makeshift dugouts.

“They like to sit and scope out the competition. They keep to themselves,” Barty explains when Regulus asks. “Can’t mingle with the common folk.”

Regulus scoffs, but Barty doesn’t miss the way his eyes search for Sirius across the field. When Regulus finds him, Sirius sits up straighter, already looking back. He goes to raise a hand to wave at him but Regulus turns his head away sharply, making a show of it.

Barty watches as Sirius moves to stand up like he’s going to run over to them and talk to Regulus, but a blonde girl, Marlene McKinnon, grabs his arm and pulls him down as the first players run out onto the field.

Remus introduces the two teams, the Death Eaters versus the Badgers. All around them, kids shake their yellow signs exuberantly, while some sport all black signs with skulls on them.

The Badgers are going to get destroyed. Anyone with half a brain would know it the minute they heard the match-up. While you had to be 12-17 to play, most of the kids on the Badgers’ team were closer to 12, whereas the Death Eaters were all 17. Barty was actually certain that a few of the kids were 18 or 19 and only getting by because they’d been held back a year or two in school.

He starts listening in to what Remus is saying as he passes Regulus his bag of boiled peanuts.

“With starting pitcher Bellatrix Black, and your team captain, Tom Riddle.”

The stands go wild, everyone stomping their feet on the metal bleachers causing a thunderous metal rumble and Regulus’ eyes widen at the commotion.

“Let’s play ball,” Remus called, rather monotone and complacent about the ordeal.

Regulus snorts. “This is beneath him.”

Barty nods in agreement.

Since there were eight teams in the tournament, there would be seven rounds total. Each round was a best-of-three battle to move on, for a maximum of 21 games, 21 nights, of baseball madness. They were guaranteed at least 14. Two full weeks of baseball. The event of the summer.

They watch as Bellatrix takes the pitcher's mound, licking up little clouds of dirt with her feet. He knocks his knee against Regulus’ at his cousin taking in both the crowd’s cheers and boos. Barty pours some of the bourbon into his Coke can and does the same for Regulus.

Bellatrix’s wild hair was long and curly, falling down her back. It was only kept out of her face by a black baseball cap, and she smiles sharply at the stands.

A soft tune plays as a short kid with spiky brown hair walks up to home plate, giving his bat a few test swings in preparation.

“I heard she puts some kind of resin or wax on her baseball cap to make the ball sticky,” Barty whispers like it’s some kind of secret.

“I believe it,” Regulus says, also leaning in. Barty tries to ignore the lightning bolts. The static frequency once again turned up a notch. “She used to cheat in every game we played growing up.”

They share a look as Bellatrix puts her fingers to the brim of her baseball hat and nods, baseball glove at the ready. The atmosphere has gone quiet like everyone is holding their breaths. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

The kid at home plate assumes position and Bellatrix winds up. The ball moves so fast that Barty doesn’t have time to register it, and neither does the kid at home plate, as the ball hits the catcher’s mitt with a hard thud.

“Strike one,” Remus’ voice echoes, and the spell is broken.

The crowd roars to life once more.

Barty and Regulus get lost in the atmosphere, the crack of the bat, the whizz of the ball, the cheers of people telling their friends to steal third. They crunch through their boiled peanuts and slowly work their way through their cokes, which get stronger as time passes, due to Barty constantly topping them up with flask bourbon.

At the top of the third, a Badger player manages a triple on Bellatrix, running in two of her teammates, so Bellatrix beams her at the top of the fourth, and lets her walk. It doesn’t matter though, the score is already 6-2. At the bottom of the sixth, Tom scores the first home run of the night, and more than a few of the silly girls from high school chirp and cheer loudly, making heart eyes in his direction.

“I mean,” Regulus leans in to whisper. “I kinda get it.”

Barty screws up his face in disgust. “Fuck no.”

He makes more than a few sarcastic remarks and snarky comments, all of which make Regulus laugh or smile. Barty is humming with delight, but he desperately tries to curtail it. Regulus is also getting into the game. It’s a gradual interest, but Barty finds that he’s watching Regulus more than the game. He watches as Regulus’ eyes furrow when someone gets an out, watches the slight smile grace his face as Bellatrix throws a particularly nasty screwball, watches Regulus’ vague curiosity at Tom’s simpering smirk. At some point, their knees touch, and they stay that way for the remainder of the night. Regulus, who shies away from any sort of contact, hasn't moved his knee away.

Barty fucking loves baseball.

The game ends at a brutal 11-2 at the top of the ninth inning. Though, to the Badger’s credit, they do not look defeated or deterred. They seem more than pleased with their two runs, all jostling and shaking the girl who made it possible with wide smiles and congratulations.

The bourbon has satiated Barty and left his head perfectly hazy. He offers a lazy smile to Regulus. “Walk you home?”

It’s late, and he’s feeling tired, he’s sure Regulus feels the same.

Regulus nods, finishing off the last of the coke, and subsequently the last of the bourbon.

“Can’t let you sleep through morning violin lessons, or French tutoring, or whatever the fuck your weird-ass family has you do.”

“Piano.” Regulus rolls his eyes as he corrects Barty. His cheeks are tinged slightly pink and his eyes are a little glassy.

Barty bites his lip to keep from smiling. What a lightweight.

They’re almost out of the field, about to slip down the quiet streets, when Regulus is pulled back by a hand on his shoulder.

Barty spins around to see Sirius with a group of his teammates.

“You came?” Is the first thing out of Sirius’ mouth.

“Not for you, for Barty,” Regulus shoots off just as quickly.

Sirius’ teammates stare at the ground nervously. He makes note of them. The blonde girl from before, Marlene, and he’d know James Potter anywhere. He’s never seen James without Sirius. And the redhead, Lily.

“Well, we play in four nights if you want to watch,” James offers a slight smile. “I’m James, by the way.”

Regulus regards him coldly. “I know who you are.”

“I just wanted to, uh, say hi.” Sirius’ voice is stilted, odd. Almost pained. Barty makes it his duty to glare daggers at him.

“Well, don’t do it again,” Regulus says smoothly, and Barty can tell he doesn’t mean it.

So can Sirius, as he smiles.

“You know we could always use an extra player on our team.”

“In your fucking dreams, Sirius.”

“Come on, we want to get uniforms made,” Sirius offers again, as if this fact would entice Regulus.

He doesn’t know Regulus like Barty knows him. Regulus would hate wearing matching baseball uniforms. He would detest it. He’d rather die.

Marlene rolls her eyes. “James just wants to prance about in those tight little pants.”

“Yeah,” James shoots back quickly. “And all the girls want to see me prance about in those tight little pants, and who am I to deny the people what they desperately want?”

Lily scoffs as Regulus turns to leave, dragging Barty with him.

“Wait,” Sirius calls. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“Maybe. It’s none of your business,” Regulus snaps as they walk out of earshot.

They’re striding down the pavement, no shuffling feet and no delay of time, as Regulus huffs.

“Wait,” Barty can’t help himself from asking. “We are going back tomorrow, right?”

Apart from the Sirius interlude, he had a good time with Regulus. And he figures if Sirius hadn’t ambushed them, then he and Regulus would be taking their sweet time walking home. Time that Barty craved more than anything.

“Yeah,” Regulus nods shortly. “I shouldn’t have talked to him. I should’ve just ignored him.”

“Well, he did make it kind of difficult to do that,” Barty reasons as Regulus fumes.

“Fuck, and then stupid fucking James Potter trying to be so–”

“Annoying,” Barty says at the time Regulus says charming.

He tries to ignore the funny thing his heart does in his chest as they both fall into stunned silence.

“Well,” Barty breathes out. “Not what I was going to say.”

“No, I just mean– you heard him,” Regulus says quickly, taking on a crude imitation of James’ voice. “I’m James. I wear tight pants and steal people’s brothers from them for fun.”

Barty snorts. “Yeah, what a dick.”

Regulus nods and repeats after him. “A dick.”

But it doesn’t sound like Regulus really means it. No one can be both charming and a dick. It doesn’t work like that.

Barty walks Regulus all the way to his house, doing his best to skirt the home with the broken window.

Regulus smiles at him softly. “It was fun.”

He admits it like a secret, like it reluctantly has to be true.

Barty nods in agreement, fighting off the urge to punch Regulus again. “Same time tomorrow, baseball boy?”

Regulus nods, his hand brushing against Barty’s slightly before he turns to head inside through the propped-open window on the bottom floor.

Barty stands on the street corner, just him and chirping crickets as he waits for Regulus to flick his bedroom lights on and off to show he’s made it. Once he does, Barty heads towards his house, trying to ignore the parts of his hand that Regulus has touched crackling to life.

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

Dp x dc prompt

In a fight, skulker accidentally throws Danny through a natural portal, and now Danny is stuck at Pluto, what the hell you bony bastard?! So now he has to fly all the way back to earth and hope the satellites don’t pick him up, but it’s actually Hal Jordan who sees him, and when later telling the justice league about a glowing boy in space who doesn’t need to breath and definitely wasn’t a lantern, zatanna cuts him off to mention the urgent need of addressing the insane amounts of dead following what feels like an insanely powerful god of death that definitely wasn’t in this dimension the day before. Bats is obviously the first one to notice they’re talking about the same person.

Back with Danny, he can’t seem to find his way around the states with how tired that flight made him, so he crashed down onto a farm on accident, while two sweet parents see this glowing boy fall from the sky and decided yeah. Might as well have another.

Clark, meanwhile, has no clue that the god of death sending the league into chaos is the same kid his parents have been wanting him to meet back at the farm.

[garfield-milk]

DAY 2 || TURTLEDUCK POND

@zukkaweek

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

Sometimes my artistic talent surpasses even my own expectations

[shoyostar]

original pinned

[ ARCHIVING! ]

hi hii so,,, after a lot of thought and contemplating i think it’d be best for me to archive this blog </3

i came to tumblr nearly a year ago and it’s been fun but now i’m drained + uninspired, n i js have so much stress n negative emotions associated w this blog that now its time to leave and maybe start anew ?

who knows! :>

i’ve gone back and forth with if i should delete my works here or not bcs ik lots of people love them but they’ve js been a constant bad reminder to me and i’m not proud of most of them anymore :<< but as of rn i’ll be leaving them + this blog up!!

(may change in the future but i’m scared of the deact button LOL)

js kinda being on here stresses me out and its no longer fun so i hope that by doing this i can have some peace + you still get to read my old stuff :3

i started this blog js before my first year of uni and i never expected to stay this long on tumblr honestly,, like i was js gonna post a bit for fun n delete my acc LOL but i’m vv thankful for the almost 2k of you who stuck around and enjoyed my writing ^_^

youre all vv sweet n i wish i couldve provided more writing on here for yall to read before archiving this blog TvT i feel like i have nothing here honestly LOL

if my blog does deact, i may repost my fics on my new blog but for now i js wanna be lwk on here and not have to worry abt updating so many series at the same time (so sorry to all dfh, vbs, loveholic ++ all other fans of my ongoing series :<< the stress to write and update is too much for me to handle 😞)

please take care of yourselves and i hope to catch you again someday if you find me !! :3

bye bye!

[sirazaroff]

How do you think Velvet flirts with Coco?

This is one of the funniest asks I ever got and im glad cause this is just gold. Like how does the Bun™️ woo her stupid bozo??
————


I have my biased takes on what Coco and Velvet are like as characters, but to start off I wanna focus on what Vel brings to the table.

I think a lot of people have moe’d her down to a nervous/scaredy bunny girl and…that’s not her at all. She’s a real multilayered character who can and will kick your ass flat. She’s also…

- very very attentive to people

- excellent at memorizing things she sees and hears, and quickly at that

- very emotionally in tune with people, herself included

- insanely kind and helpful

- honest about her feelings and will voice her thoughts when ready

Also she’s a bunny like come on. Is baby. It’s impossible to not find her likable.

I can go on forever, but I think these are enough likable traits to work with.


Time to shift. Now we focus on what I think Coco likes in a person:

- Hot girls

- Complexity

- Someone true to their nature

- Some sense of honor

- Someone striving to learn and to better themselves

Hopefully it’s not lost here, but there’s some compatibility don’t you think? Velvet’s got some of those traits that Coco likes.

————

So where’s the flirting? It’s coming I swear, I just needed the background info to help support the answers.

Bun bun flirts two ways: intentionally and unintentionally. The latter is usually what’s happening most often.

Her intentional flirting is what you would expect. Some cheeky words, being a playful tease in her actions like when she flashed her camera in After the Fall. I think she would 1000% take advantage of her physique and incredibly vast skillsets. She is totally totally showing off during training and sparring. Coco might hide her gaze under her glasses but that dumb bitch is so easy. So so easy…

Now her unintentional flirting is basically that Velvet is just doing her thing. She’s comfortable and loved by her team. With them she’s able to be herself and have fun, and that’s what coco loves most. Seeing Velvet thrive and not feel like she has to hide herself away from the world, and with it comes moments and actions that make Coco, much to her surprise, fall for Velvet.

I guess simply put, Velvet flirts by being her cheeky self around Coco, and her leader falls for her every time.