#is this called a blurb? idk

[starrrlights]

Based on something in my notes app (copy and pasted too but edited to make sense) maybe oc Jay? Idk

you and Jason had became friends when you were on the streets, helping each other when needed and also just being there for each other. When he became robin, with #BruceWayneBenifits, he was able to help you more. Often letting you have sleepovers at the manor and hanging out. You both grow to have feeling for each other, and you were planning on telling him on his birthday or sum, but he died. So you never find out if he felt the same way or not (he does)

Time skip (5? Possibly 6 even?) Years later when Jason comes back alive and is less vengeful of his death, Jason frequently goes to old book stores to find good books to read. He goes to one frequently and the vibe felt off that day.

He thinks there might be a threat and keeps a good eye on everything. While browsing; surprise, surprise, you are there. Standing somewhat next to him. You obviously don't recognize him right away or at all from how different he looks. You're trying to find a specific book that a friend had recommended and just so happen to get closer to Jason little by little. (You have social anxiety)

You don't want to get to close to this person because of personal space and well, he's huge. Handsome looking, but huge, and a lot of scars. Which was kinda a hot look on him. You steal a few glances at him, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Jason does notice, since the Pit heightened his senses. (I think? I read it from somewhere that it did 🤷‍♀️) He finally looks over at you, expecting you to just be a normal Gothamite who is just scared of his size; when he freezes for a second. Recognizing the your hair and style almost immediately. He thinks he's hallucinating. There no way it was you.

You notice that he was looking at you and you almost shy at his gaze. Mumbling a sorry and returning your gaze to the books in front of you, but knowing that the book you're looking for is probably right in front of the man.

Jason panics a lot in the inside. Do you recognize him? Do you hate him? Are you afraid of him? He's you jaybird, why you'd you be afraid?

You mentally punch yourself and raised your voice a bit, taking a breath.

U: "I think that book I'm looking for is by you. Can I look?"

Oh my god, he's going to say no-

J: "Sure, that's fine."

God, if you could faint, you would. Not only looks handsome, but sounds handsome.

Jason on the other hand let's put a mental and physical sigh of relief, now thinking that you probably don't even recognize him. It saddens him a little at that thought but it was better, way better than having you scared of him.

He scoots over and you scoot closer, looking over more books until your predictions were right and the book you were looking for was right by where he was standing. You mutter a thank you and move so he can continue looking in the spot he was in.

He doesn't even register that you were moving away because he was so enchanted by you. you had grown up and matured. And damn did you look good. A lot better than he did in his opinion.

J: "I-uh, have me met before?"

Jason asked. 'Great going, idiot. All the romance novels you've read and that's what you come up with?' He thinks to himself.

U: "..I don't think so? What's your name?"

He's sweating bullets now. What does he say? Does he sat jason or use a fake name?

"Jason"

You've met many Jason's so you don't think about it. But there seems to be a familiar aura to him. But you can't put a finger on it. It's going to eat you up later but you put the thought to the side for now. Out of habit you stuck your hand out in a polite way.

"(Name)"

Jason almost said "I know" but bite his tongue and nodded, reaching out to shake you hand. Jesus, you hand fit so well with his. So warm and welcoming.

you and Jason talk for a bit more, it was awkward but it worked. You ended up switching numbers for "book recommendations". But you both were giggling like school girl in the inside because of it.

Over several months, you got to know Jason. And he reminded you a lot of Jason, your dead friend and crush. It saddened you a bit but you decided to not dwell on the past so much. You'll just visit his grave soon, again.

It wasn't long before Dick encouraged Jason to ask you on a date. Well, going out for coffee/fav drink bev and talk about books. You agreed and you did the date.

You had a great time. It was slightly awkward but it was just like all the other hang outs, but more special.

Jason asks you what your life is like because he wants to know what your life has been like since he was gone. He had asked before during those mothes about resent stuff, but he wanted to know more, like high-school years and such.

Boring, you said. Mostly the same thing over and over again. You told some funny stories and it made Jason want to genuinely smile. He makes up a few things to not have to talk about the Pit or dying. Or being Red Hood.

You go on a few more dates and finally, he takes you on a fancy one. (Using Bruce's card ofc)

You initially declined going on a fancy date, not really having the money or outfits for it but jason insisted and said he'd had one of his friends to go with for shopping if you needed it. (Steph or Cass idk, some fem friend he has.)

You ended up going shopping with his friend and got a nice dress.

You go on the fancy date and had a great time as always, a bit panic on the bill but jason pays for it all. He's a true gentleman for you and only you.

At this point, your bf and gf

I think jason would wait for about a year, you make sure things are secured and there is a lot of trust in the friendship/relationship before dropping hints that he is your not-so-dead best friend. He just wants you to know that he is back :(

One night, trying to sleep, it clicks for you. You immediately go to his apartment and knock on the door. He thanks whoever runs his life for the great full night of not patrolling that night and answers the door. You have tears going down your face and look puffy. He panics and asks if you're alright. You look at him with a confused but surprised lookin your face

U: "Jason Todd? ... Jaybird?"

He also has a look of shock on his face, happy that you finally got it but also scared of your reaction.

J: "... ... yeah. It's me."

U: "Oh my god..."

You stare at each other for about a solid minute and you break down, crying, hands to your face. He panics more and freezes, not knowing if they were good or bad tears. You reached out and hugged him tight. Feeling his out grown and bigger frame in your arms. You finally have your best friend back. And your dating him. You love him. And you know he loves you. All of your dreams have finally come true. Obv not financial ones but wvr.

It ends up with you cuddling jason on his bed or sum. idk.

Kinda long ngl, I have a good grasp of what his character is like but I may have a few things wrong. Pls tell me if something is ooc, I'd probably fix it or sum 🫶🏻😭

[sant-riley]

[Ghost x fem!reader blurb]

this is for the girlies who can't drive for shit and don't have their license <3 it's me. I'm girly.

Notes: Extremely short, about 400-500 words, She/her pronouns aren't used but he does call you girl. Use of the nickname "Runt." No established relationship. Lmk if I missed anything!

~

"You know I can drive right?" You murmured, looking up from your phone as you sat on the passenger side.

Ghost was rubbing his nose bridge, sighing heavily at the traffic on the road.

He was slouched back in his seat, legs spread wide in his seat as his eyes closed forcibly. It was a treat to see him in civilian clothing, a real one.

A small part of you hummed with contentment knowing you were one of the very few to get to see him like this often.

You two were the off base for a week-long break, choosing to spend it together as you both usually did. It was too much hassle to head back home on your end and Ghost enjoyed your company.

It wasn't rare to see the pair of you get back to base together and return as well. You had worried about what the others could say but that was quickly silenced when Ghost shot a glance at you with a look of "I don't give a fuck." which silenced your worries.

Snapping out of your running thoughts, You swore you could hear the creak of his neck twisting towards you, Simon's eyes snapping open and looking at you incredulously.

"What? No." He turned his head back to the road, inching the truck closer to the light. You could see his eyes roll too.

"You don't look like you want to, so let me." Rolling your eyes in return, moving to undo your seatbelt so you could do a quick swap as the light was red.

"Runt, no." A big hand covered your hand, pushing your own away, leaving as soon as it was there.

"And why not?" You raise an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes.

"For starters, you're a shit driver in the states, can't imagine you driving here in Manchester." He stated it was a fact. He shrugged like y'all were talking about the weather. Fucker.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean-" You stuttered, huffing as he doubted you. He wasn't wrong but did he have to fucking phrase it like that?

Ghost couldn't help the smirk growing on his face at your pout, letting out a low chuckle.

"It means what it means, runt. Second of all, it's not your job." He poked fun at you, licking his lips under his mask as he focused his eyes back on the road.

"What the fuck does that mean, 'my job?' Don't tell me you're playing stereotypes on me."

You grumbled, crossing your arms as you stared out the window, watching the people on the sidewalks.

"No, don't be stupid." He should be offended, to think you'd say that but to be fair, he couldn't blame you.

"Okay so tell me!" The whine left your lips, staring at his side profile, puffing your chest as you tried to get him to meet your eyes with his own.

"Pretty girls don't drive, simple as that."

His huge hand patted your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the blood rush to your face.

All he could do was snicker as he stepped on the gas pedal, his hand warming your skin as he drove.

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@xncasi @king-cookiex

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol

@cluelessyasmin @sesshomaruwaifu @chaos-unchecked @kalamataolivesssss @arunasmisfortune @tbrfic

@117s-girl @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @sparrowwithaquill @justtiredandvibing

[little-pondhead]

The Curse Of Hope

_

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

[teddybeartoji]

a heavy sigh falls from your lips.

"i'm jus' having a day."

satoru huffs. "you're telling me... that you're having a day... aaaaaaall by yourself, handsome?"

you don't need to look at him to know that he's wiggling his eyebrows. dummy. faintly shaking your head, you try to brush his stupid comment off but your lips have a mind of their own, so used to a smile that they're already twitching upward. and satoru being satoru, he takes it as a very good sign to continue. "i can't believe the love of my life is having a day – without me. betrayal, i tell you, absolute betrayal."

he throws himself onto the couch right next to you, thighs touching. no inches between you.

"stop..." you whine. "let me have my day..."

"no way, baby. we're having a day." tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and he whispers — "together."

when you turn to face him, your noses touch. he never did know what personal space is but it's not like you mind (you love it). he looks into your weary eyes, hiding his frown. he nudges his nose against yours and presses a quick kiss to it.

"so is it a 'quiet' day or a 'sleep' day or a 'bath' day or a 'film' day or a 'park' day or....?" his voice is so soft and sugary and warm and caring and you immediately get lost in your thoughts. he's so sweet. you're so grateful for him. if you told him to be quiet for the rest of his life, he'd do it. it'd be very fucking hard but for you – he'd do it without a second thought. and now he's here, asking you what kind of a day you're having. he would've probably wanted to play video games or make-out or go bully suguru but he won't even bring it up because he can see that it's not the right time for that. and you're so grateful. what did you do to deserve a boyfriend like this? a boyfriend who's so ready to put your needs above his, always and forever.

he observes you in your little mind palace, your eyes are little zoned out and it just might be the cutest thing. he places his hand on your thigh, gently pulling you back to him. he doesn't say anything, only giving you a reassuring smile. you love him.

"a 'quiet' day, i think." your head falls against his shoulder with a soft thump.

"okay."

pressing his soft lips to your forehead, he draws hearts on your back.

a quiet 'sorry' tries to hide inside the crook of his neck, burrowing itself into his hoodie. he catches it, though. like always.

"sorry for what?"

"this."

a rumble in his chest, you feel it so clearly.

"you're sorry for having a day?"

an incoherent mumble is his answer.

craning his neck, he tries to look down on you. a finger finds your nose and boops! it, making you sink deeper into him.

"my baby."

it's like honey – the sweetest coo in the whole wide world. he pours it all over you, covering you in his love, sticking you to him. you don't mind (you love it).

"never ever ever ever apologize for that stupid shit again, though."

...

and there it is — a snicker. not a full laugh but it's enough.

"like - damn, you really are dense sometimes, baby." he whistles, earning him a punch to his chest. and a smile. he's getting there.

"what the fuck is wrong with you, satoru?" sitting up straight, you force your lips into a thin line (it's so hard to not smile around him). "i'm over here begging for mercy for being, oh, i don't know, vulnerable, and you tell me that i'm dense?"

hastily you stand from the couch, leaving satoru staring up at you with a big grin. "what a good boyfriend." you scoff. but your words mean absolute jack shit to him, it's like water off a goose. he's never been more in love. he sees another twitch of your lips and he knows he has you.

turning away, you're ready to make a bit of a scene, ready to stomp your feet, ready to forget everything about your day but you can't. an ungodly strength has you glued to your spot because satoru has other plans. his fingers wrap around your wrist, easily pulling you straight down onto his lap. he mumbles a quick 'the best boyfriend' before attacking you with a quick press of his lips to yours and a smirk and you know you're fucked. this wasn't your plan. this is bad. this is extremely bad. you know what he's gonna do and you can't do anything about it. no, no, no. you were supposed to stomp away and wait for him to come hug you from the back, being all cuddly and cute — this was not the plan.

it's his ultimate power move. tickles.

you hate him.

(you love him so much that you fear your heart will literally explode every time you're around him).

and then his fingers are running all over your sides, laughter bubbling from your throat, no matter how hard you try to hold it back. he manages to hold you down and torture you at the same time, it's unforgiving (and impressive but you won't tell him that). tears brim in your eyes and he can't stop looking at you.

this is how you should look all the time. not the tears in your eyes, of course, but the smile. oh, the smile. from one ear all the way to the other. the corners of your eyes crinkling. he can't wait to grow old with you and see the smile wrinkles, these'll definitely be one of his greatest achievements. he's so serious about it.

luckily, he doesn't keep it up for too long, letting you catch your breath – your head falling back onto his chest, right above his heart.

"you're such a dick."

"you love me so much, i'm surprised you haven't proposed yet."

another weak slap against his chest and he laughs. loud and full of love.

a comfortable silence. his hands rest on your waist, soaking in the feeling of your skin, the feeling of you on him, your heart so near his. you trying to get a grip and he's enjoying his time with you. he could be watching paint dry with you and he'd love it. he hopes you know that (he needs you to know that).

"we can still do a crying party... if you want." his breath tickles your ear. "i'll cry with you."

you're so grateful.

snaking your hands behind his neck, you pull him close. "thank you."

"anything for you. everything for you."

[doeidawn]

18+ MDNI

yeah i'm hoping on the ex!price bandwagon. so what.

your car breaking down now was probably the worst possible timing in the world. sure, it was a miracle the piece of junk ran as long as it did, but it's not ideal for it to sit unmoving in your driveway when you've got a job to work and a life to live.

as if it could get worse, you realize that no one you know is available at this time; they're either working their own jobs or they live miles away. but while scrolling through your contacts and internally debating whether or not to call a shop out of your budget, you come across that number you should have deleted a long time ago.

you hate how much you hope he’ll pick up as you listen to the line ring. even more, you hate the jolt of warmth that shoots through you when your name is the first thing to come out of his mouth. you've barely given john the time of day since you left him, and now here you are calling him for help. you can't decide if you're grateful or not when he says he's coming over.

you thought sitting and waiting for him would be the worst part, until you see an all too familiar car pulling up in front of your house. your stomach churns when you see him; of course a man of such routine would look the same as always. he still towers over you and the sound of his voice nearly shakes your core. at least he has the decency to be civil. this time.

it doesn't last long, though. after the small talk and asking what'd happened with your car, john's moved on to asking where your boyfriend is and why he couldn't help you out. you don't miss the way he smirks when you inform him you don't have one. you ask if he's found another woman to terrorize only find yourself more relieved than you should be when he says no.

john, out of the kindness of his heart (kindness he never much cared to exercise in your relationship), says he has no problem helping you out. he's cheaper than a shop, more hands-on than any professional. besides, you wanted him here, right? that's why you called him, after all, and who would he be to deny you?

the subject of payment inevitably arises, and john is sure to let you know that he doesn't need your hard-earned cash. you know that his job pays him well enough anyway. he doesn't bother being sweet—knows he doesn't have to butter you up like he used to—a quick fuck should cover the labor just fine.

you hate how quick you are to agree. you hate even more how you were secretly hoping that was what he wanted. and you know he notices how little you fight it when he bends you over the side of the sofa, but you can't bring yourself to care. not when you're this wet from the sight of him (something he's adamant to point out when he strips you down) and his thick cock fills you so perfectly.

stomaching all of his taunts and teases is only possible because of how good he feels lodged balls deep inside you. it's a sensation you missed more than you'd ever care to admit. and given how quickly john's pace stutters and he spills inside you, you assume he felt the same. you'd tease him about it if he hadn't made you cum the hardest you have since the last time you were with him.

yeah, he'll fix your car up, but he might need a follow up session afterwards for all his hard work. c'mon, you know you want to.

[ink-n-shadow]

I would love to hear more of your ideas on the ABO!141 AU Glad you're feeling better, hope that your day is way better tomorrow <3

thank you love ♥ this was just a lil idea i had about kyle as the only beta in the pack bc i genuinely believe it’d be a little bit stressful and chaotic and he’d just need a break every so often

(also this is an old(ish) work that i've had in my drafts! i'm still kinda on a writing break until next monday, but enjoy <3)

kyle’s kind of the designated caretaker of the home and base. you can always find him straightening the pillows or folding up blankets, sometimes sweeping the dust bunnies from the floors or vacuuming the couch cushions. it’s a way for him to kind of reset himself and get time to himself. as the only beta in the group, it’s sometimes overwhelming to be caught in the middle all of the time, somewhat of a constant push and pull. so when any of you see kyle tidying up, you know to give him his space.

the only one who can really pull kyle out of his routine is john, who strides calmly up behind him as he folds up a blanket to drape along the back of the couch. he’s jostled from his dissociation by the feeling of two giant paws rubbing up his back slowly before resting on his shoulders, giving a soft squeeze that has kyle humming.

“thought you were doin’ paperwork,” kyle mumbles softly as he glanced over his shoulder at the alpha, eyes fluttering when he notices the soft look in them. “y’ need me for somethin’, cap?”

and it’s john’s turn to hum, bringing kyle’s attention back to the blanket with a gentle nudge of his nose against the back of his neck. “need you to take a break—y’know how long you’ve been cleanin’?”

kyle’s silence is enough of an answer, and he finally accepts defeat when john takes the blanket from him and drapes it across the back of the couch half folded, letting the alpha spin him around to face him. kyle instinctively tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for john when the alpha shakes his head gently, tilting kyle’s head back down with a couple fingers on his chin.

“why don’t you go to that one cafe y’like down the street, yeah? take some time for y’self, sweetheart,” john coos softly and lets his hands come up to kyle’s jaw, holding his cheeks in the palms of his hands. before kyle even has the chance to ask the question, john’s answering it. “don’t worry ‘bout the ‘megas—simon ‘nd i got it under control.”

and kyle can’t help but lurch forward to bury his face into john’s neck, arms wrapping around his body and hugging him tight against his body. he lets out a muffled “thanks cap,” which earns him a gentle head rub and a kiss to the temple.

“bring me back some tea, ‘lright? ‘nd grab those croissant things johnny likes. use my card too.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[bug-bites]

thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley

like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!

he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.

he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water

in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it

when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh

"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"

it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy

when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that

he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.

[wundrousarts]

My UK hardcovers for Nevermoor + Wundersmith came in the mail today and I am LOVING how this blurb is written/formatted. Shame they didn’t keep up with it for the rest of the books.

[fastboatsmojito]

Little Luca blurb while I work on a longer one-shot 🫶🏼🫶🏼

18+ BTC, this is nasty from the start sorry LMAO uh mostly about missing him, basically just you sending him a picture that he can’t open around anyone else . godbless

You missed him so much - you decided to send him a picture; your still wet, sticky fingers spread out in front of a framed picture of him, signed with a red lipstick stain.

“Miss you <3” sent with invisible ink and a caution to open when he was alone.

No more than an hour later, your anticipation making you giddy, he opened it. Not bothering to respond at all before calling you.

“You know what you do to me? I won’t be able to focus on- shit, you’re insane for sending me that when you know I’m at work. Such a pretty little thing. You really miss me that bad, huh?”

———

HEHDMFHE 🫠

[mausinly]

1fae1 au and oc belong to @ghouljams sorry for haunting your inbox btw

Price runs cold, it comes with being in the court of winter. He isn't corpse freezing, though he definitely can be if he so pleases. Rather, he feels cool. Cool like a gust of wind or soft rain under the power of the unforgiving sun, cool like a shower after a long day of work, washing away the tension in your muscles and the worry of your brow.

Like the bastard that he is, it never fails to amuse him when his cold hands make his little witch yelp and swat at him. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he drags his fingers over her skin, delighting in the goosebumps that are left in their wake. His hands slip under the fabric of whatever pretty dress she has on that day, and he chuckles low and deep when she shivers but makes no effort to push him away.

His witch runs hot. Everything she touches is warm, like a long embrace. Every potion she crafts goes down like the thickest liquor, every charm like a freshly dried blanket over your shoulders.

Everything except for him.

A chill sweeps through her little cottage when he breaks through the threshold, despite the warm lamps and candles and the fire raging under her cauldron that make her home feel like a furnace. She can always feel him coming. Like seeing dark clouds in the distance yet neglecting to find shelter before the storm comes.

He knows exactly why his witch burns like the sun, blood running with all the warmth of a summer fae. Even so, he marvels at how human she feels under his palms. Her every curve and dip so smooth and lush. She hums so sweetly when he drags his thumbs over her cheeks, dousing the blazing skin.

He can nearly feel the steam billowing into the air when his lips meet hers. Their bodies lay entangled in the thick sheets and covers of her bed, and he can feel the warmth buzzing just above his skin. He watches her, taking in the serenity of her expression. The tension in her muscles and the worry of her brow have long since washed away. He watches her and startles himself with the suffocating feeling in his chest. Like a dam breaking, her searing touch sinks into his bones and he takes a breath like his head has been under water for centuries.

For the first time, the devil's heart aches.

[mochinon-yah]

Yk what maybe one of you will adopt the idea OR maybe the idea is already out there.... somewhere..... but anyway-

THE IDEA: (tw: yandere and uh gore‐ish stuff?? HELP IDK WHAT ELSE????)

So, you had an ex-boyfriend who was basically a playboy before he met you, but now, he's somewhat changed. You decided to believe him since you knew people could really change, well, at the very least, you hoped so. You gave him a chance, but he... ruined it.

You caught him sneaking around with another girl. Her blouse was messily open and there were a bunch of love bites on her neck, but the most (un)surprising part was that your boyfriend was on top of her. Ah. You should've expected it. People never change.

You broke up with him despite his pleas of sorry's and whatever. You didn't care and you didn't want to care. It hurt you, so you tried to avoid him like the plague. And you, of course, block him on every social media that he had. But oh no, he was still pursuing you! What a drag.

There were countless of letters appearing in front of your house, to which you just ripped it apart. But that was much better since you knew what to do and where to throw it away. It was when you started to get gifts from your ex that started to make it more... scary. (You somehow couldn't make the police move after showing them the countless threatening and bizarre letters)

It ranged from expensive stuff to stuff that was on your wish list, and even to stuff that you were not... expecting to get.

One day, coming home from an awful day of work/school/whatever, you were met with a big red box of something on your kitchen counter. Knowing who gave this to you, you rolled your eyes and simply opened to know what it was inside. You were just... curious. But you know what they say—curiosity killed the cat!

A strong smell of rotten hit your nose immediately. What an awful smell. When you thought that the smell was worse, you haven't seen what the gift was—it was a heart! A real one.

You stumbled down to the ground; your legs went weak at the sight of it. It was... not a normal heart you'd see on a tv drama or somewhere. It was... an abomination. Countless of different hearts were sewn together to make a heart symbol, or love, i suppose. The blood was still there too, making the box somewhat sticky inside.

It was... fresh?

You felt yourself wanting to throw up, but it stopped when you saw a shadow looming over your body. You looked up, and it was your ex standing from behind you.

"Surprise! Happy anniversary, love. Did you like my present? Oh, what am I saying—of course, you'd like it! I know you doubted my love after what had happened, so I took the liberty to take hers and my other exes' and also your exes' heart to make a love! Now, you won't doubt my love for you, right? It's a gift full of effort, so you better be grateful for it!"

He grinned, a psychotic look on his face as he watched you quiver in fear.

[idontknowanyonesblog]

Have you ever read a fanfic so unhinged and absolutely out of pocket that you have to stop and take a break and think about what’s actually wrong with you and why you’re reading it. I feel so ashamed, embarrassed, shocked and confused all at once afterwards.

[umbrellacam]

alright who started the trend for fans to call dick just "grayson" and why are they cowards

[hotpinkboots]

Anakin is stupid, and Anakin sucks at kissing. Like he's really bad at it. He's never kissed anyone before. But that makes it cute because you can either teach him by taking the lead and forcing that little cocky brat to learn from you, or you can learn together. Like. He's trying to be romantic and take it slow, but he doesn't know how and you can sense how he's absolutely internally screaming because he was like, "Oh I'm gonna be so good at kissing". But he's not and now he's realizing that and he's gonna die inside because he can't kiss for the life of him and oh Maker now he has to learn, and he thinks he's making a bad first impression.

But he still thinks he's gonna be cocky about it and take your breath away so he keeps doing it. He's savoring your lips, he hopes you're savoring his. Like how can someone be so bad at kissing but be so good at kissing?? He's too eager and sloppy but that makes it cute and eventually romantic. Random quick kisses that are clumsy and stupid, but slow kisses that make him feel like the world is in slow motion, and it's just the two of you together. He loves kissing you. Idiot would practice on his own hand because he wants to make you happy and give you a good experience.

grammar? I never knew her, darling, I was far too in pain today to use it!

[creation-help]

"Get away from me! What even are you? What kinda hell did something like you come from?!"

The human, known to most as simply an asshole, though hiding much worse, backed into the corner. The entity, dangerous, beastly, monstrous, stepped forth.

"I didn't simply 'come from' anywhere. I was made.."

"What kinda sicko would make something like this?!"

The creature hummed, feeling amusement about some aspect of this. "You see.."

"Monsters make monsters. The ones who do, are usually much more heinous than their creations."

The human frowned in disgust. "Well I don't even wanna imagine what the freak who made you is like.."

The monster, though wanting to laugh in the face of that remark, couldn't help but be overcome by bitterness over its sad fate. "You know the kinds of freaks who can make me.. Who do make me."

"W.. What's that supposed to mean..? What kind of freaks?"

"Look in the mirror." the monster rose a pointing claw at the human's face, in prosecution. "Freaks like you."

[mappingthesky]

Plane's vocabulary: Nymphia

it’s all she knows!! what other words does she need!!

besides my love, baby, princess, beautiful girl, whore, etc….