#it did not serve me well to say the least!

[worlds-worst-ships]

Do you seriously, actually ship it?

Okay. Lets talk. Because apparently some of you are defending... well... "that" (under the cut)

"He's autistic! It was a stim!"

If you genuinely think that this has ANYTHING to do with autism, you are an objectively stupid person. Like, your brain is so fucking smooth, it puts the surface of freshly tempered glass to shame. You're a barely functional reprobate with subhuman intelligence who has no idea how to form thoughts so you let a 50 year old billionaire who spends too much time on his phone decide your thought process for you.

"He was throwing his heart out to the crowd!"

Now, I don't really play baseball, basketball, netball, or any sport where you throw anything other than sometimes darts, but... is that how you throw? You perfectly extend your arm at that angle? Twice? After spending years posting tweets that very much align with Nazi viewpoints? Do you throw a pitch in baseball and scream SIEG HEIL as the ball hurtles towards your opponent? No. Stop being a fucking idiot. This was deliberate. He did it twice.

"He's autistic! He doesn't know better!"

Please comment if you actually think this so I can personally call you a stupid cunt and block you. We absolutely do know better. Autism and Nazism aren't mutually exclusive.

"You're inhibiting his free speech!"

1st amendment only applies to censorship from government positions of power, which I am not, as should be obvious from the fact that I have no power to censor him. Though I shouldn't have to explain that.

"Well, he's gonna get away with it so stop being so sensitive!"

Yes. He is. But that's not a flex, that's A FUCKING MASSIVE PROBLEM. Call me sensitive if you want, but absolutely every single one of you should be offended by this. Did you pay attention in history class, or were you too tired after a long night of being fucking railed raw and bone dry by propaganda on Twitter? Moron.

"Well, he's rich and you're not, so there!"

Yep. Got me there. He's rich, and I'm not. Yknow, Hitler and a lot of Nazi officers were pretty minted too. So was Epstein, King Leopold, Stalin, Jimmy Saville, every MP currently serving in parliament... but sure, they're great people because they're rich, right?

"You're just a stupid offended libtard!"

Google "The Holocaust".

"Well, you're still using his app!"

His app? You mean the one he bought, then fucking ruined because he has no idea how to run it, right? And you because its basically impossible to find mutuals as a vtuber without it, you knew that, right? "His" app, please, you probably think Ronald McDonald makes your burger when you order McDonalds, you moron.

"If we punish Elon for this, then that's a violation of the first amendment!"

You mean like banning tiktok, removing any and all talk of election rigging, then putting it back up the next day? Or maybe like deleting any criticisms of you and your nazi salutes under your recent tweets despite it blowing up everywhere else? Or does that not count because its something you agree with? Yeah. You've been cucked harder than Sneako and you don't even realize it. Elon and his government buddies are leaving your free speech rights looking like this

Aaaaanyway

I find it well and truly laughable that so many people like Elon will say all this insane shit and do all these fucking heinous things and people will defend them. Like how that gun woman who shit herself says stuff like "I'm not homophobic, I just think gay people are disgusting and that they should die" or that comedian nobody finds funny anymore spends hours whining about trans people but says he's not transphobic.

Lets all be on the same page for once and have the balls to say what we actually think. Elon got so close, but being a spineless edgelord who doesn't have the balls to just say what he thinks out loud is quite the weakness.

[entitled-fangirl]

Cowboy!Cregan 6

Summary: Cregan teaches her to ride a horse. Or... not.

Masterlist

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

.......................................

"What do ya think?" He whispered in her ear. She could practically feel his smirk against her skin.

She clung to the saddle like a lifeline. She knew he only put her in front of him for his own enjoyment. 

One of his hands rested on her thigh, squeezing occasionally as a comfort. 

"It's… unusual."

"You're doin' well," he praised. "Few could ride a horse like this."

"You're quite literally holding me on the saddle, Cregan," she pointed out.

He shoved the reigns into her hands and held his hands up in a surrender. "Am I?"

"Cregan," she warned lowly.

She heard his chuckle and his heels pushed into the horse's ribs. The horse spurred on, moving into a gallop. 

She gripped the reigns so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Cregan's hearty laugh only grew but he let his hands move down her arms. 

It only lasted a moment because he grabbed her hands and tugged on the reigns, pulling the horse to a stop. 

The horse snorted as he did so, and she felt like she could finally take a breath. "Don't do that ever again."

"City girl," he teased her. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Care for me. Love me." She teasingly laid back against his chest. "Take me home and have your way with me."

"Oh yeah?" 

A shrug, as if she didn't know what she said was causing a heat to run down his body. "If you wanted."

"If I wanted…" he repeated softly to himself. "And what if I wanted something else?"

She craned her neck to look at him. "Like what?" She asked in a deadpan.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever met-"

"-Cregan."

His nose tucked into her hair. "And awfully smart-"

"-Cregan," she warned again.

"And I love you a lot, you know? You know that don't you?"

"Whatever you're doing, don't."

"Gotta tell me you know that," he ordered.

"I do, I do, but what-"

"-Then I'll know you'll have it in your heart to forgive me if I just…" He kissed her head and swung a leg over- abandoning her on the horse.

She watched in horror as he landed on the ground, his boots kicking dust up.

"See you at home," he grinned.

"Cregan. Cregan?" She asked worriedly. "I don't know how to-"

"-See you at home!" He called over his shoulder. He had begun to walk back towards the vague direction of the house.

"Cregan!"

"Be gentle with her."

She was growing worried. The horse snorted, cold and ready to go on a run. "I-I will," she eased.

"Wasn't talking to you." The cowboy rolled his shoulders back, stretching as he walked across the long field.

The house was at least a mile off.

So there she was- horse and rider. In the middle of a field. And she had no idea what to do.

…

She opened the door in anger. In her attempt to dismount in the stable, she'd stepped right in shit. 

But there was a warmth in the house that she couldn't ignore. And a smell.

Cregan emerged from the kitchen in a 'kiss the cook' apron the ranch hands had bought him as a joke. He didn't joke about it. He loved that thing. He eyed her up and down. "Came back better than I thought you would."

"That's all you have to say, Stark?"

He shrugged, disappearing back into the kitchen. "Go change and wash up. Dinner's in 15."

She sighed, pulling her boots off and leaving at the door. 

Once in their room, she noticed the outfit laid across the bed: Her favorite pjs, and Cregan's favorite bra and underwear she wore She rolled her eyes playfully. He was impossible, trying to charm her with dinner and still asking her to wear what he wanted.

She'd always do it.

A quick brush through her hair, followed by washing her face and running a cloth over the dirt on her arms, she dressed in time for dinner.

…

"Look at you, pretty girl," he mused when she walked in. "C'mere." Once in his arms, he laid a heavy kiss to her lips, just waiting for her rant. "Go sit down and I'll serve ya."

"I hate you."

She didn't mean it. They both knew that. He kissed her head. "I know. Go sit down."

After a few minutes, Cregan appeared- completely shirtless. He had a nice pair of Wranglers on and his favorite boots, hair tied up in her favorite way. He looked good.

A little too good.

"This isn't gonna win me over." She was determined to be strong.

"Really?" He questioned. He laid her plate in front of her.

"Really."

He bent down, leaning completely over and towering over her. His hand held the back of the chair, encasing her in. His face was inches from hers. "Really?" He asked again, this time in a huskier tone.

"R-really," she swallowed.

He took his time as his eyes flickered down to her lips and back to her eyes. "Shame," he grinned. God, his smile was stunning.

"You left me on a horse in the middle of bumfuck nowhere-"

He shot back up, completely amusement in his eyes as he defended himself. "A mile from the house, baby. A mile."

"And," she continued. "You laughed at it."

He began to giggle again, placing a hand over his chest when she glared. "Sorry, baby. It's just," the sentence was broken with another giggle. "You were so cute on that ole boy. I knew you'd figure it out." He turned the conversation around. "You said you wanted to learn to ride, right?"

"And leaving me to get bucked off is the way to teach? Some fucking teacher."

He brushed her jaw with his fingers. "He hasn't bucked a day in his life. He's the calmest horse I've ever owned."

She faked a deep sigh, like maybe she was holding in her anger. But in reality, she was a bit touched that he'd really cared that much. She shouldn't be. He's a thoughtful man in general. But she'd spent an hour out in the field, thinking he'd just left her without a care.

He retreated back to the kitchen, re-emerging with his own plate and a shirt on. 

As he sat down, she grinned. "What happened to dinner and a show?"

Cregan shrugged. "You didn't want a show."

"Oh, I assure you I do."

"Eat."

She scoffed, pointing her fork in his direction. "You're just rude, Farmer Stark."

She knew he hated when she called him that. The first time, it'd caused a thirty minute rant on how "there's a difference between a farmer and a rancher, baby."

He threw her a playful glare. "Well, that's no way to get the show rescheduled."

She deadpanned. "Stark, you know what I'm wearing underneath this. You'll put back on that show after dinner or there'll be riots in the streets."

"What streets?"

"The ones leading up to the bedroom. Now, take off your shirt and eat this wonderful dinner."

He pretended to be annoyed. He wasn't. In the slightest. He was quite turned on. 

He sighed, pulling his shirt off and beginning to eat. He muttered a soft, "Hope I get dessert for this."

"Could always take a different approach to this horse riding thing," she wondered aloud. "Save a horse and all..."

He choked on his food.

..................................................

[thewritetofreespeech]

Oathbreaker

summary: request for paladin Tav to break their oath by freeing the spawns and their choices with the Oathbreaker Knight. Request was too long to publish.

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

Astarion wasn’t sure how he was supposed to be feeling right now.

Elated? Afraid? Proud that he did the right thing or worried over setting the equivalent of a pack of wild dogs loose on the Underdark? So many emotions that Astarion was not used to feeling all bubbling up inside him.

What he was sure of, however, was that he was a little disappointed in Tav’s enthusiasm for the situation. They had worked so hard. Done good; which they usually lapped up like a cat with cream. Astarion thought they would at least be a little proud of him but they just seemed despondent. He decided that, in this effort to be free and turn a new leaf, he would be the bigger person and let it go. Perhaps after a good night’s sleep they would all feel better in the morning.

But, as with most nights in their camp, a good night’s sleep was not sure to come.

Just before they all laid their heads down a whirl of smoke, fire, and ash appeared in the camp. At first Astarion thought it was Rapahel, as he scrabbled from his bedroll to Tav, but no sufur. Instead of the devil in their camp there was a man, seemingly made of fire and black armor, with a dooming, looming presence before them.

“I have been waiting for you.” The black knight spoke as it turned to Tav. “I felt the moment of your liberation—the shedding of your bond.” Astarion looked surprised. Bond? What was he talking about. “Oathbreaker,” the word fell like a hammer in the room, “you swore to protect life itself. To serve the natural order. To protect those who would value life, and vanquish those who would destroy it. Tell me – why did you abandon your oath?”

Astarion suddenly realized what was going on. In releasing those souls, the vampires who would be lost, were lost, Tav had betrayed their oath. Released dark forces on the natural order. They had done all that…for him?

“It was the right thing to do.” Tav told him bluntly. “And…I did it for love.”

Astarion was shocked, but the fallen knight just laughed. “Love? Such a fickle reason. But…some say a noble one.” He couldn’t be sure, but Astarion thought that the knight may have glanced at him. “Take comfort in your undoing. I, like you, abandoned my cause. But much can still be achieved.”

The knight explained that their oath was broken, but that new power was taking root in its place. Astarion could barely hear him. All he could think about was what Tav had done for him. Continued to do for him. All the sacrifice. All the pain. All the ridiculous little errands and side quests they did just to make him happy. And what had he done for them?

“I wish to reclaim my oath.” Tav’s voice broke through his concentration. Turning to them as they said they wanted to be a paladin again. “I made a promise. And although what I did was right, I do not wish to shirk my responsibilities as well.”

“Very well.” The knight replied, sounding a little disappointed. “First you must pay the agreed price. Material sacrifice is required, to prove your words have substance.” He told them. “Do you wish to pay?”

1000 gold for salvation. Astarion thought that was trivial, but so like the church and religion.

“I…I don’t have….—“I do. I have it.” The vampire quickly stepped forward and handed the sum to the dark knight. Astarion glanced at Tav who seemed a little surprised. “What? You didn’t think I gave you all the coin when I was picking those pockets and coffers, did you?”

“The price is paid.” The knight then spoke. “Kneel, oathbreaker.” Tav kneeled and the Oathbreaker Knight repeated the words of their vow. An ancient, deep magic enveloping them for a moment before a new oath was sealed and Tav’s vow was resorted. “It is done.”

Tav stood and seemed to look over themselves. “Well, lets hope I don’t live to regret this.”

“Regret is for those who would act differently.” The knight told them. “I do not think you would change your choice, as nor would I.”

The knight then disappeared. Leaving them alone. “So…that’s why you have been so upset recently?”

“Yes.” Tav confessed. “I meant what I said. It was the right thing to do. But the more we go on this journey…the more I realize that what is right and what holds my oath are not always the same thing.”

“The world is full of greys and purples, my darling.” Astarion reached out to take Tav’s hand gently in his. “You taught me that. I wouldn’t be here…I wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren’t for you. I’m not really an accurate barometer on which way right is, but from where I am standing, there is no one more honorable than you. And if your gods can’t see that then more fools they.” Tav chuckled a little at him.

Astarion then took a deep breath. “Since…we’re up now.” He pondered aloud. Wondering how to say this properly. “There’s…something I’d like to show you, if that’s all right? Something out in the city.”

He took Tav’s hand in his again and led them into the city. To show them what his ‘oath’ had cost him. Where his old self had been. But, with this new lease, perhaps they could put those old selves away and focus on the new. A new path. A new future. A pledge to one another for a change.

[starwarskawaii]

Annoyance and Empanadas

A Miguel O'Hara fic

Alright, here's that Miguel fic. Dedicated to Lan ( @chaithetics ) for always believing in and encouraging me. Proofread by my husband, @kitsunot . So if I made a mistake, blame him.

A/N: This is self-serving, reader is HEAVILY based on me. No word count because I am lazy.

Edit: possible part 2 if you guys like this one. So make sure to let me know!

CW: disabled reader, possible slightly ooc Miguel, mentions of Miguel's *gestures at his life*, no use of Y/N, second person voice, mentions of mobility aids, disability is not specified but is highly based on my experiences with fibromyalgia, female reader, mentions of brain fog, mentions of safe foods, reader is slightly implied to be autistic, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING

You were annoying. Not annoying like Peter B, who always had a quip and lacked boundaries. Not annoying like Miles, who questioned Miguel constantly. Not even annoying like Hobie, although you were a bit of an anarchist. The first thing you had ever said to Miguel was, "I support women's rights and women's wrongs. I do not, however, support men's rights OR men's wrongs, so I hope you've improved." No, you weren't annoying like any of them. You were annoying like Lyla. You were annoying because you knew him. You knew him entirely too well. Which was quite possibly the worst kind of annoying you could be.

You sauntered in on your purple forearm crutches, thinking of what you could say to piss Miguel off. As much as you'd like to pretend you were a quick thinker, the brain fog made it near impossible to come up with anything on the fly. So as you sauntered in, you thought of what you could do to make those veins pop on his neck and forehead. You liked those veins.

Miguel heard you coming. How could he not? Mobility aids are not stealthy. Not in the least. Miguel knew what was coming, and he braced himself for whatever quip you had up your sleeve. Your quips were worse than a Peter Parker's; you had studied him. You came from a universe Miguel stumbled on accidentally. A world where he and all the other Spiders were just characters in comics and movies. And you happened to be Miguel O'Hara's number one fan (and biggest hater, somehow simultaneously). You had made tons of posts analyzing him on some site, tumbling, maybe? He couldn't remember. He brought you on for a few reasons, but mainly to help the algorithms predict events in the Spider's lives.

"Ohhh, Miiiiiggy!" Came your voice, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What? I'm a bit busy, you know, " came his reply.

"Too busy for me, Migs?" You pouted and batted your lashes. You knew he couldn't resist that.

Miguel was surprised. No quips yet. That's a first.

"Too busy brooding to listen to your favorite right-hand woman?" There it was. There was the jibe at him. You loved doing that. You were probably worse than Lyla.

Lyla popped up and snickered "He was just brooding, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Migs, my love, would you care to tell me why the caf has no empanadas?"

"Aye, you came here to interrupt my ensuring the fate of the Arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse over an empanda?"

"They're your recipe, we all know they're the best in the multiverse" you reasoned with him.

"They're my mother's recipe, technically, and I'll make you some when I take you home." Miguel always took you home. You had a lot of issues with the stupid 2099 high-tech stuff, and it also required use of at least one hand, something you rarely had the luxury of, unless it was a no mobility aid or a wheelchair day. So Miguel made sure you were safe.

"Fine, fine. When are you taking me home, speaking of? Should I just wait here, or should I try to navigate the awful upside down maze you created while I wait for your self-imposed penance for the day to end?" Man you were annoying. Man you knew him well.

"I'll finish up soon. Wait here," his face softened as he looked over at you. You were making yourself comfortable on a chair, placing your aids to the side and getting into that position you liked to sit in. The one that seemed uncomfortable, but you swore was best for your hypermobile joints.

You reminded him a lot of Lyla. Lyla, who Xina had programmed to heckle him. Lyla, who he never had the heart to reprogram. You knew all his buttons. Just like Lyla. Just like Xina... You were also like Gwen. He had initially seen you as much more like Gwen. You had a baby face, so he had assumed you were younger. You had half-shaved hair, which you had actually gotten done because of some singer in your dimension, the year before Spiderverse came out. You had always loved Gwen Stacy, though. It wasn't hard to see why. You were smart, you liked nerds, you were incredibly confident, you were kind of punk, but also hilariously materialistic, not in a fancy clothes way but in a "I have to have this figure or I will cry" way. You were a lot like the Gwen of 120703. You loved that Gwen.

You were very different from all of them, though. He remembered stumbling upon your dimension by accident. A dimension where there were no heroes. A dimension where there were somehow still supervillains. A dimension where, even when faced with a lack of heroes, some people still had hope. You were one of them. He had initially infantalized you. Your mobility aids, your interests, the baby face, the fact that you clearly needed a caregiver, but stubbornly lived on your own all made him see you as younger than you were. You had had many arguments before he finally realized how capable you are. That you're tougher than most Spiders are, save for Sun Spider, who has EDS (you LOVED Sun Spider). That you deal with 24/7 full body pain, work a full-time job, and somehow manage to take care of yourself.

You had shown him so much. Like punk versions of him that you thought were hot. He hated them. He hated that you found that attractive. It made him question for a moment if his appearance was alright. Of course, you would like piercings and tattoos. You had multiple of each. He never really thought much of it before. You had shown him art of him pregnant. You both hated that one. He had learned so much about you. In a way, he had become the caregiver you needed. He made sure you ate, he popped into your dimension to help with your laundry, he helped you on low mobility days, he cooked for you, he helped you set up appointments and refill meds when your brain just wouldn't cooperate. He admired you. He thought you were incredibly strong. He made you empanadas because they're a safe food for you. He secretly loved the way you loved his cooking.

You cared for him. Really, truly, deeply cared. You had listened to his pain and felt it like it was your own. You were so empathetic. He realized that your disabilities and baby face and your being a few years younger didn't matter at all. You were more mature than he was. You knew pain, you lived with pain, you had lost so much and had dealt with it a long time ago. You helped him pick apart his mind, healing what had been broken by grief. He had spent so many nights sitting on the floor of your apartment, next to your couch, pouring his heart out to you. The girl who had fan art of him up on her walls. He was pretty sure he loved you, but too worried he was confusing gratefulness for that painful emotion he hadn't felt in so long that he couldn't bring himself to say anything. You were in love. How could you not be? He let you see him so vulnerable. He was also 6'9, built like a tank, perfect dark skin and hair, newly emotionally open, and had clearly come to genuinely respect you, in a way you struggled to find as a disabled woman. You were much less subtle about your feelings than he was. You flirted constantly. But he was as dense as his muscles.

"Alright, I'm done, cariño," Miguel said. "Time to go back to your dimension, and get you some food. Did you actually eat today?"

"Uhhhh, what answer do you want to that?" You said, only half joking, with a nervous laugh.

"You'll be the death of me, hermosa"

He was used to the quips. He was used to the forgetting to eat. He was used to it all, and he hoped it could stay that way. Miguel O'Hara loved how you annoyed him. And he hoped you would continue to, for at least as long as Lyla has.

[sennenpharaoh]

"Mmm-hmm!" Atem nodded in excitement. "I didn't think I'd enjoy fishing so much, I just... kind of wanted to see how it was like for... um... people back in my time- er... kingdom, I guess." He wasn't quite sure how to phrase it, but low key revealing why he himself wanted to at least try it once, just to say that he did it. "Maybe when the weather gets better we can go on a fishing trip, just the two of us. You, me, a cooler of our favorite beverage, and the two of us fishing, away from the outside world." It seemed a far cry from what Atem was used to, but... it was as Atem said earlier. He served his duty. Now this was the chance for him to learn what he liked, things he like to do. And, well... seemed that fishing has at least piqued his interest.

As he took a long sip of his beer, he could smell something... tasty. Putting his glass down he saw the waiter come up with a tray of two good size plates for the both of them.

"I have here two grilled breams for you gentlemen." She set the plates down in front of them, and Atem was in awe. Two good sized fish, one on each plate, was in front of them, served with grated radish and some lemon. "Be careful you don't get any bones, and... there. Please enjoy your meal, gentlemen." With that she gave a bow and left, leaving both Roy and Atem with their catch, now dinner.

"Woah, look at that." Atem just looked at the size of the fish, all grilled up and smelling delicious. "We caught these!" He couldn't believe that not even several minutes ago, the same fish that was flopping around in Atem's hands was now on his plate. It blew his mind. He figured the lemon was to be squeezed onto the fish so he did, though he wasn't quite sure what the radish was for (a palate cleanser). But he was excited to try out the fish he caught himself.

"Mmm-mmm~!" He was quite amazed that it flaked off quite easily, allowing him to get some really good pieces as he tasted the fish. "Mmm! This is sweet and savory! Just lemon and salt, and the fish itself is sweet! What about you, Colonel?"

He grins softly seeing Atem enjoying the appetizer. Everything was already perfect and they haven’t got their main course yet. Seeing Atem this happy, it was what made everything he planned worth it.

Roy watched as Atem held out his glass to him so they could do a toast. He grabbed his glass as well and clinked it against Atems softly.

“Here’s to six months almost seven. Here’s to even more than that!” He wanted this to keep going forever. That was his main goal in the end.

He took a gulp of his beer and set it down. “That was great.” He hummed in delight. The food and beer complimented each other well.

“Are you excited to taste what you caught?” He asked gazing over at him keeping some conversation going.

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[snekdood]

i think the reason ppl get so uppity about you calling a scam a scam rn is bc they feel so powerless about the situation in i/p that they'll take ANYTHING to feel like they're contributing. they dont want to be the bystanders who have no real sway that they are, they want to be the heroes of the story, and if they dont at least have the scams to rely on for their image, how will everyone know how good of a person they are and praise them for saving the day???????????????

[dracimexidae]

So yeah since Jasmine and Sara are out of the Finals 😢, I'm left with the BJK Cup and then i'm basically on vacation myself from tennis (as for the more engaged and "stressful" part of watching matches😝- honestly it's "exhausting" being a fan a pause is definitely needed phew 😮‍💨🤣)

[littlepetbee]

.

[lcveblind]

Cadius Reed.

Servant to the Crown. Personal retainer of the future Queen.

Her eyes and ears. Her sword and shield. He who acts as an extension of her right hand, the dagger which she keeps sheathed behind her back before she strikes, working amidst the shadows while she worked in the light.

His hands have always been dirty, always stained with blood, or dirt, or something else entirely. Sometimes it was one of these things. Other times? All three. Perhaps that is why he takes to his role as easy as he did, slithering up to those who wish to sully the princess in all their degeneracy. 'Fight fire with fire,' as some would have said.

(At times it works, and those who dared even approach with such boastfulness retreat in either disgust or anger by mere words and touch. The times it doesn't, well...

They're put in their place soon enough.)

Edeline doesn't fully understand why he's so loyal to her sometimes—-she knows there are times where he resents her. She's certainly not blind to it. In those moments, she wonders if it's the supposed naivety and unwavering love she holds for her people that angers him, or how much of herself she's sacrificed to become someone they needed her to be. She wouldn't blame him if that was the case.

But then she recalls the days where he looks at her with pride. When she puts someone in their place, or when she holds fast to her beliefs despite the reactions of those around her.

Perhaps she'll never understand his devotion to her.

Perhaps she doesn't need to.

Because Cadius Reed will willingly follow Edeline Hart into the dark, and that is more than enough.

[carbonateddelusion]

been reflecting on the kind of person I've become after these past 3 years since the anniversary of me leaving is coming up

I looked at your blog because I was trying to find images of Bennett's design... ended up going on a rabbit hole. idk if you've looked at my blog before but I haven't so much as peeped at yours in years, I stopped like a month after it happened because it was making me so much worse mentally

I dunno if you still feel that way about us, but I'm fine with you disliking me. I did a lot of fucked up shit and I'm sorry, you deserve to be mad. even though a general lack of understanding of boundaries bc of my upbringing and autism could excuse SOME behaviors, there's still a lot of shit that I can't excuse.

something I'm especially sorry about was treating your issues like they weren't as big as mine. I realize now how much you were suffering, and I was too blindsided by my own mental illness to see how terribly you were feeling and how unsupported you were. I remember feeling like I had to placate you because if I didn't things would fall apart again, and that isn't fair to you. I treated your feelings like an inconvenience and that you werent smart enough to get what was going on because I supposedly had so much more experience in suffering. that's not what good friends do to other friends.

anyway. I don't know if you'll ever read this or see it or whatever, but. I don't know how I feel about you. you represent the memories of a lot of pain from around that time in my mind. I don't HATE you, but I'd rather not think about you for too long. I'm very happy to see that you seem to be doing way better, though. you deserve that, and don't let shitty people like I was in the past hold you back

I think it might be interesting to catch up. if that's ever something you'd be fine with doing. I dunno of I'd be comfortable with it myself but whatever. I still think of you, and most of those thoughts are just "I hope they're doing okay".

please keep creating

[der-schweizer]

There's my portal

As i said on @bet-on-me-13 'Where is my portal' post, here is my short about their idea. please enjoy.

Danny sipped his coffee, slowly shuffling towards his lab. It had been a long time since he had a ‘run on two coffees and some ecto’ weekend but here he was, Monday morning, on his way to work.

He really wanted to be in bed but he had bills to pay.

Quietly he shuffled into his lab, which he found oddly drafty and oddly bright, considering he hadn’t turned on the lights yet. After flicking them on he moved on towards his desk, passing a big gaping hole in the wall and—

Danny paused, shuffled backwards a bit and then looked at the place where his portal used to be. For a long moment he just looked, then did a slow blink and took another sip of coffee.

After making sure that his portal, including parts of the wall, were really gone, he let out a sigh and held his face. “Who the fuck stole my door?”

With a sigh he pushed his bangs out of his face and walked to his PC, to check the security footage of his Cameras. For once it wasn’t Vlad who stole his shit, Vlad at least had the courtesy to leave a note that he ‘borrowed’ something. It was safe to say that he was surprised to find the footage gone. There weren't many people that could hack through Tucker's programing.

Danny sat there, looking at the black screen of his PC for a long moment before thinking aloud. “Okay, we have one or more people who can; One, break through Tuckers firewalls. Two, physically move a portal weighing around ten tons and, Three, knows their way around Arcane Runes so as to not cause a mass ghost invasion.”

He thought about it for a minute before throwing his hands up. “Fuck this, I’m just going to use the other side to find it.” He got out of his chair before transforming. 

Danny focused his power into one of his fingers before poking the air in front of him, the tip of it pierced the fabric of space which he then used to rip it open. He quickly flew through the tear before it sealed again. Despite Wulf teaching him how to do it he still sucked at it, which was the main reason he built his portal.

Once in the Zone he looked around for it. He found it after over two hours of searching, which only served to piss him off to the point where he began muttering curses under his breath.

Standing in front of it, he gave it a quick inspection. After inspecting the Runes, Danny had to admit that, whoever had stolen it, knew his way around them. They pretty much locked out anyone not authorized and or approved by the Caster. Too bad for them, Danny had the ‘Masterkey’ and went through anyway.

John Constantine was holding his face, quietly counting to ten. Neither smoking nor drinking would help in this situation. After reaching fifty he ran his hands over his head, looking at the assembled brigade of idiots in front of him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He started, “You,” he pointed at Batman, “found an ‘unknown energy signature’ and went to investigate. Then you found a high security lab with had an active portal to ‘who knows where’ and your first decision was to fucking steal it?!?!”

Superman moved forward, opening his mouth to counter but Constantine didn't let him. “AND you moron helped him steal it, not to mention you!” he pointed at flash, “Help install it here, in the watchtower, without telling anyone from JLD about it?”

Flash looked a bit sheepish at him. “Well, in my defense I didn’t know it was stolen.”

Constantine wanted to bash his head against the next closest bulkhead, maybe that would help.

“Okay, okay.” Constantine facepalmed, trying to stop the aneurysm from building up more.

A deep chill suddenly filled the air and sent goosebumps all over his back, “Oh this is just getting better and better.” Constantine reached into his pocket for a warding charm, before turning around and swearing. He stopped swearing when he saw who had come through. “Oh, hey Phantom.”

“Constantine, why the fuck did you steal my portal?” Danny wasn’t even pissed anymore. He knew the English drunktard too well to blame him. Granted he was obnoxious, didn’t pay back his debt and came whenever it suited him, but Danny liked the man. He didn’t exasperate problems and always did what was necessary.

“Look, I didn’t.” He then threw a thumb over his shoulder, “Those morons did.”

“Constantine, do you know this entity?” Batman already looked on high alert.

“Excuse you! I have a name. And that is my Portal. Explain why it isn't where it is supposed to be.”

“The sensors of the Watchtower found an unknown energy signature, upon investigation we found an unsecured pathway to a different dimension, so we secured it.”

Danny stared at Batman for a solid minute, then simply said, “Oh I'm going to sue your ass so hard your grandkids will feel it.”

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

[k9wa]

⟁ SENSITIVE ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — “you get all excited for me to fix you up and call you a good boy.”

⠀ OR

⠀ — a sensitive spot during a repair leaves him melting into your callused little hands.

⚠︎ mechanic!reader, so much flirting im kind of sick, he whimpers i have an agenda, this is like 90% dialogue sorry, he wants u sooo bad. wc 1k, from this req.

“y’know darlin,” boothill managed to breathe out through a taut jaw and clenched teeth. “you bein’ this close ain’t exactly helpin’ me focus none.”

your fingers were slow, careful, precise as they pushed a few tiny wires apart, giving view deeper inside the little panel on boothill’s throat.

the position you two stood in was one all too familiar, boothill perched on your workbench with you between his thighs— the only new variables being your face way closer than he’s used to and your fingers proding around in his surprisingly sensitive wires.

it was an…odd sensation, to say the least. a small unpleasant stinging that simultaneously stimulated a rather pleasant shiver up his back with every small poke.

“time and place, cowboy.”

you responded quietly, tone a little flat with your tease from concentration.

“can’t help lettin’ my mind— wander, can i now?” his breath hitched a bit as you nicked a particularly touchy wire.

“if you let me finish this,” you lifted your head enough to meet his eyes, free hand gently smoothing out the crease in his brow. “i’ll let you show me just how wild your imagination can get.”

boothill bit back a scruff chuckle at that. 

“that enough incentive for you to sit still?”

“well, i reckon that’s plent— mmgh!”

a pair of mechanical hands tightly grab onto your hips as his shoulders tense, a knee-jerk result of your tweezers finding the out of place wire you’d been looking around for.

your hands paused, opting to ignore the way he audibly whimpered for raising your gaze a second time to check on him.

“you hangin’ in there?”

boothill’s fingers flexed as they held onto you, relaxing from squeezing your pants to a more gentle cradle of your hips.

“you know,” he swallowed thickly— as if his throat could even dry out, likely just a natural reflex— “you got a way of makin’ fixin’ me up feel real special.”

the slight waver to his voice isn’t lost on your ears— it was quite loud in them, actually.

“i’m hangin’ in fine, don’t worry your pretty head none.”

carefully retracting your tweezers, you stood up straight enough to lightly push his hat up, giving view to his face and cupping your hand over a blue-hued cheek.

“wanna take a break?” 

he nearly had to clutch his chest with the gentle concern that laced your tone.

boothill knew he was flushed, was purposefully avoiding looking you in the eye because a few pokes to some sensitive spots had him sliding his hands to your waist like a lifeline— not that what he could distantly feel of your skin against the synthesised nerves of his palms weren’t doing much to cool him off anyway. but he did…relax, somewhat. 

he always enjoyed when you’d touch his face, getting to feel all the unique little details of you; the gentle drum of your pulse and the little calluses from your tools. it somehow always manages to make the tension in his body ebb away, draining with an exhale that lightly fans against your wrist.

he shook his head with a quiet clear of his throat— another unnecessary function that served more as a tick than anything.

“nah, nah i’m alright.” he assured. it didn’t make him any less embarrassed to be having such a reaction. 

big bad criminal until you get a little too fudgin’ touchy, apparently.

“let’s just get this finished up, yeah? maybe we can move onto somethin’ more pleasant.”

your thumb gave two gentle taps to his cheekbone before it pulled away, reaching for your tweezers for the nth time.

“that’s my boy.”

oh how boothill’s chest bloomed at the simple praise, the endearing ‘my’ that slipped in with it licking up his ribs and curling to rest along where a drumming heart should have been.

“jus’ be gentle with me, will ya sugar plum?”

“you know i've always got ya.”

each plug or untangle of a little yellow or red cable had his systems humming, fingers occasionally curling into your hips every time a little surge left him biting his cheek a little harder.

“we’re almost done,” your voice is icing on an already cavity-inducing cake, though he’ll gladly take a toothache if it’s for you. “just a little longer.”

boothill was going fist to fist and losing with the urge to completely melt under your deft fingers.

“…keep talkin’ to me,” he requested with a murmurmurmur, cautious not to move too much. “helps me stay on t—” he had to bite back another whimper, cheek going between his teeth and eyes going to the ceiling. “—task.”

boothill didn’t miss the little tug of your lips.

“you know, you do this thing when you get shy.” you mused quietly, breath meeting the shell of his ear. “you bite your cheek ‘n look away. it’s cute.”

boothill couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at your deduction. he tried to regain some of his composure, though the colour in his cheeks continued to betray him.

“i don’t know ‘bout shy,” he rumbled, keeping his voice steady as he could. “but i’ll take cute if it means i get to hear you keep sweet talkin’ me. keep this up and i might start enjoyin’ these repairs a lil too much.”

his voice was a little strained, though still held his usual humour.

“like you don’t love em already.” you teased back, gently closing the panel on his neck as it re-sealed with a small hiss. “you get all excited for me to fix you up, call you a good boy and send you on your merry way.”

“i’m still waitin’ on that last bit, y’know?”

you shook your head, popping his hat off his head and placing it on your own.

“good boy,” you pinched his cheek endearingly. “you’re all done. do you want a lolipop too?”

“think i deserve somethin’ a lil sweeter than a lolipop, don’t you sugar?” boothill’s face unknowingly deepens at the sight of you in his hat, brave words betrayed by a nervous tap in his finger and more blue to the apples of his cheeks.

“we’ll save it for when you’ve got a real booboo,” you took his hat off, using the brim to lightly tilt his chin up and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. for such a heavy hunk of metal, he nearly began to float.

“but there’s something to hold your sweet tooth for now.”

…

“boothill?”

“y..yeah, sweet pea?”

“you’re overheating.”

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[quirrrky]

—•✦ THE BOY IS MINE

OIKAWA, KUROO, BOKUTO showing you that he belongs to you and you to him

≡ NOTES ⋮ I'M BACCKKK! and I'm super excited, can;t wait to fangirl w/ y'all! I'm gonna cri 😭 I miss my boys sm T^T bokuto's made me giddy and kuroo's got me smiling like shit...don't get me started with oikawa!

OIKAWA

You were on the sidelines watching the man you adored so much being adored by so many other girls. No lies, some of them were prettier than you, you’d think. They could be a good match for your boyfriend.  

Still, you didn’t bother. Tooru always assured you of your worth and how perfect you were for him in every sense––the most beautiful in his eyes.  

Tooru delivered an impactful serve, and the crowd cheered including the other girls beside you. Even from afar, he sent you a smile with a matching flirty wink. The girls squealed with so much giddiness, probably thinking it was for them.

He cast another glance at you, which you returned primly.  

You were always his number one fan. You might not be on par with him when it came to Volleyball, but you didn’t mind being his cheerleader, his anchor and the source of his strength whenever he’d feel inadequate.  

You were secured and not moved by how many fangirls he had until now. The reporter pulled Tooru to the side together with a known female Volleyball player who’s around the same age as him.  

The two of them were the top players of their teams–the most competent. The reporter and everybody else simply admired seeing the both of them side by side.  

“Oh! They look so good together!” You heard those around you murmured.  

“Maybe they’re dating...” The others speculated. 

A bitter sting gnawed inside you. The image of Tooru happily playing Volleyball with a partner who could really challenge him head-to-head was making it difficult for you to breathe.  

You were lost in your thoughts when you suddenly felt a hand around your wrist, gently dragging you somewhere.  

T-Tooru?  

He brought you by his side and laced his arm firmly around you. 

“Practice and perseverance are totally the keys in winning but for me it’s not just that,” Tooru responded to the reporter. “We all need a lucky charm, I tell you.” He pulled you closer to him, shifting his gaze to lovingly study your face, saying, “And I got mine right here.”  

You blushed, feeling the heat crawling all over your face. The crowd squealed and hollered yet they didn’t matter in that moment.  

The reporter ended the interview with lighthearted teasing directed at you and Tooru, prompting the start of the last match.  

“How ‘bout a good luck kiss, huh?” He teased.  

“W-What’re y-” You weren’t even able to finish as he already placed a sweet peck on your lips. “Tooru!” You complained when he parted, and he replied by playfully sticking his tongue out.  

Your fingers travelled your lips. Perhaps, you’ve got nothing to worry about after all.  

KUROO

It’s a big day for you and your boyfriend. It would be the first time he’d be giving a welcome remarks to open his institution���s black-tie event. You were even proud to be the one who did his speech.  

As his extra special plus one, he never left your side with both of you just keeping things, hands to yourself, acting as a professional and sober couple. 

However, you were bothered to say the least. You always knew that you had a fine boyfriend. He looked straight out of a novel after all. Tall, handsome and with a good suit to complete the look.  

Tetsurou seemed like every billionaire bad boy in the books you’d encounter in bookstores’ new adult section. It’s no wonder that the girls in his company party all had their eyes on him like he’s a piece of hunky meat they’d jump on at any moment. 

Deep inside, you’d want to be swallowed by the universe below. You were never insecure about your looks, well, maybe sometimes you were like right now! Were you not even pretty enough for them to keep their attraction to themselves? Were you not playing the eye candy part so well?  

Do you even look good beside him? 

Black dress, pretty face and hypnotic smile all amplified by the sweet scent of honey—you’re Kuroo’s most prized possession, not that he treats you as an object. Well, yes, to put it simply you’re the object of his desires, adoration and affection.  

Wasn’t it obvious that you were with him? Yeah right, call him petty, but he couldn’t bear the eyes of these bastards on you.  

Hell, pretty was even an understatement when it came to you. As much as he wanted you to be revered for being the goddess that you are, he still couldn't accept all the gawking you’re receiving and him being disregarded like he wasn’t even there when he’s the boyfriend, the future husband and the forever person.  

He promised he’d behave himself and keep the PDA on low since today’s a formal event, but it looked like he won’t be keeping up with that anymore. 

Jolted, your shoulders rose as Tetsu slithered his arm around your waist. He tugged you closer to him so you were both attached to the hip. You just froze in surprise when he leaned, placed a kiss on your forearm and dropped another one on your shoulder.  

You felt the heat rushing to your face. Your eyes held his as they met. “What...what are you doing?” you whispered and he propped his chin on your shoulder.  

“Showing them who you belong to.” 

Internally, you’re partying. You’d be lying to say that you didn’t want that because you definitely want to show all these girls that Tetsu would only have his eyes on you. “Okay, just don’t overdo it.” 

A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Not very sure about that.” 

BOKUTO

At last, your fiancé, superstar athlete Bokuto Koutaro, will be arriving home tonight. It has been several months since he’s been away to train and to participate in the Olympics. Now, he’ll be coming home after playing with his utmost best.  

You were standing, waiting for him in anticipation at the airport. This was the moment you’d been waiting for and your face immediately lit up after seeing him walk from the arrivals. His eyes were still sleepy with his pillow still latched around his neck.  

In anticipation, you took a step forward approaching him, but the reporters and his fans beat you to it. Now, he’s swarmed with the crowd taking pictures and asking him questions. Some of them were even bumping into you and all you could do was watch. You were just a mere ordinary citizen, lurking in the shadows of those who admire him.  

You clutch on your chest. You were truly happy for him. Genuinely happy for the recognition he’s receiving. He deserved every bit of it, but...How you’d wish to be closer to him. Be the home he goes back to where he could be just Koutarou, the loving and silly boy you came to love. You just missed him so much. 

A bitter smile appeared on your face, surrendering to your fate until his eyes met yours across the sea of people. He glowed radiantly, beaming at the sight of you. Without hesitation and despite everybody else around, he made a way for himself towards you. 

With so much excitement, you yelped as he hugged you tight and carried you that your legs hooked around him in reflex. Koutarou peppered kisses over your face cooing so lovely that he finally got to see and be with his most adorable Y/N. You giggled, getting a little ticklish with his kisses.  

“Babe, babe! Not here!” You protest in middle of chuckling. “There are people around.” 

Koutarou pouted. “But I miss you so much.” 

“Me too,” you said in a wide grin and he giggled like a school kid finally getting his favorite toy as present.  

He rubbed his nose against yours. “Let’s go home!” 

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