#it still has a long way to go but its 2am and i want to lay down

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I figured it out.

The only thing keeping me from cleaning my room is the allure of my bed

So if I put my rats on my bed,

I can't lay on my bed

And I'll clean

I'm so fucking smart

[4unnyr0se]

❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - yuu nishinoya & morisuke yaku

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, they're sweetiepies, noya is actually a freak, roleplay, switch! noya, hickeys, spanking, mentions of unprotected sex, dom! yaku, slight breeding kink with yaku, cowgirl, doggystyle, they love you so much

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

a/n: im sorry if yaku is ooc i wrote this at 2am and i do not feel like editing anything. n$fw is censored because i would like to keep my blog lmao

Yuu Nishinoya - SFW

❥ Absolutely whipped for you the second he lays his eyes upon you. You could be doing anything, literally anything, and he knew right then and there that he would die for you, no questions asked.

❥ He doesn’t really care what qualifies as a “date” as long as he gets to spend time with you. You could be folding laundry together, and he thinks it’s the most romantic date you’ve been on because you’re with him and you’re his entire world.

❥ Spontaneous. Gifts. He’ll send flowers to where you work, give you cool rocks he found while hiking or doing some other such thing, making you a care basket full of your favorite chocolates and snacks, contracting Sugawara to help him write love letters (writing is not his strong suit but he still wants to do it.)

❥ So much food, like…just so much food. You’ve been to every restaurant in town at least twice because that boy loves to eat. Even if you aren’t a big eater, he’ll still make sure you get three meals a day plus snacks. And if you struggle to eat, he’ll be so happy even if you only eat a little bit off your plate.

❥ Quality time and physical touch are his love languages, so expect to be getting kisses often. Pecks on the cheek in public, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you wash dishes in the sink. And if he’s jealous? He has no problem making out with you in front of people because you’re his, and the world should know.

❥ Speaking of physical touch, this man will not stop holding your hand. At least one part of him is touching a part of you at any given moment when you’re together as if he’s afraid you’d float away if he let go.

❥ Hella clingy, this man is incredibly clingy. If you get up to use the restroom when you’re cuddling, he’s waiting outside the door for you to come back so he can kiss those beautiful lips of yours. He just can’t get enough!

❥ Obsessed with you and everything that you do. Did you sneeze? He’s on the verge of tears because you look so fucking cute when you sneeze. Did you buy a new outfit? He’s throwing a tantrum until you model it for him so he can shower you with praise. Noya worships the ground you walk on and them some. 

❥ Lowkey possessive but in a good way. Deep down, he’s worried that you’ll leave him for someone taller or better than he is, so he gets a tiny bit jealous when he sees someone talking to you that he considers a threat. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you like. He would never tell you what you can and cannot do. He respects you too much for that. But he will talk to you about his feelings because he’s mature like that.

N$FW

❥ So. Many. Hickeys. This ties into the part of him being possessive. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his, and what better way to show you off than by parading you around town with your neck and chest covered in little red and purple bruises? You’ve nearly gone bankrupt on buying just concealer because once a hickey fades away, a new one will take its place in no time at all.

❥ Literally anything the two of you do will end in him fucking you or vice versa. If you bend down to pick something up, his hands are groping your ass, and he’s pulling down your panties and shoving his fingers into your pussy, all the while whispering the filthiest things in your ear. 

❥ This motherfucker whines and whimpers, and he’s so incredibly loud about it. The second he shoves his dick inside, he becomes a babbling, pussydrunk mess that’s only focused on you cumming all over his cock.

❥ Noya is 100% a switch who doesn’t lean towards being submissive or dominant. He just does whatever you want him to. Do you want him to fuck you stupid for hours on end? He’s down for that? Do you want to tie him up, blindfold him, and ride him until he can’t think. Also completely down for that. 

❥ Endless stamina. As long as you’re up for it, he can fuck you for the entire day. He simply doesn’t believe in a recovery period on his end. He’ll fuck you from sunrise to sunset. All you have to do is ask.

❥ Tits man 100%. Noya loves tits, no matter the size or shape. If you have huge tits, he’s fondling them as he takes you from behind. Medium-sized tits? He sucks on them as you ride his cock, relishing in the taste. Small tits? He plays with your pert nipples as he fucks you missionary. All tits are good tits in his eyes

.❥ Highly experimental in the bedroom. He’ll try anything and everything if it means you both get to feel good. From you pegging him to him filming your third orgasm of the night, he’s down for whatever. The only things he isn’t okay with are hitting you (impact play) and sharing you with others. He will casually slap your ass but that’s as far as he’ll go. He just can’t bring himself to hit you, even if it turns you on.

❥ Could eat you out for literal days and not get tired, not even for one second. He wants you cumming on his tongue and pulling on his hair as you beg him for more, and he’ll give it to you.

❥ Focuses on your pleasure, not his own. You’re his goddess and he’d do anything to serve you, anything to make you cum again and again.

❥ Has a whole index of kinks, but his top ones are roleplay and passionate sex. Dress up as a teacher, and he’ll cum in his pants, begging on you to punish him for failing your class.

❥ Loves to make love to you.

❥ “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, angel? M’gonna make you cum so fucking much for me, my perfect angel.”

❥ “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of this dick, can you baby? Gotta fuck you stupid.”

❥ “More, I want more! I’ve been so bad, I deserve to be punished, ma’am!”

❥ “Talk to the camera for me, angel. Tell the camera how many times my cock made this pussy squirt all over the sheets.”

❥ “Gonna fucking cum inside, can’t pull out. Oh, fuck, baby, you’re fucking milking me dry, shit.”

❥ “Faster, fuck me faster! Wanna fucking cum so bad, please! I’ve been good, right?”

Morisuke Yaku - SFW

❥ Loves when you get an attitude with him because he also has an attitude. He loves when you talk back to him and when you tell him how you really feel, it’s just so refreshing. Honesty is very important to Yaku.

❥ You and Yaku basically continue to mother Lev well after you’re both graduated. Lev will call and text you for advice and you’ll gladly help him, even if Yaku gets a little jealous that you’re paying more attention to the oversized Russian than you are to your own boyfriend.

❥ Takes you on the most romantic restaurant dates ever. He has professional athlete money, so order whatever the hell you like! If you want five lobsters, get five lobsters. As long as his baby is happy.

❥ Spoils you rotten, but he won’t ever admit it. If you point out a cute necklace that you saw in a magazine, it’s there when you wake up the next morning. Yaku will pretend to not know how it got there, but he knows, obviously. Expect lots of expensive gifts when you’re dating, especially from designer brands. Half of your closet is Chanel and you sure as hell aren’t complaining.

❥ Not that big on PDA, but will wrap an arm around your waist in public. Since he’s a well-known libero in the Russian Volleyball League, he gets approached on the street sometimes. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself (especially if you hate getting attention from strangers, so he holds off on kissing you until you’re in the privacy of his penthouse apartment.

❥ Pleads and begs until you adopt a cat together. He just wants a cat with you, any cat will do. It can be a cat you found in a dumpster or a cat that cost someone’s entire yearly salary, he just wants a cat to raise with you by his side.

❥ Wraps his arms around your waist as you cook and leave kisses on your neck. Whether you’re taller or shorter from him, get ready for hugs and kisses from behind.

❥ If you struggle with your body image, he’ll kiss away all your insecurities. His lips will be on yours for hours as he tells you how perfect you are, and how much he loves you. He’ll kiss away your tears as you start crying as well, because to him you are perfect.

N$FW

❥ Not very vocal in bed, but he does make plenty of grunts and groans. The only time you’ll ever really hear him moan is when you bite down on his incredibly sensitive neck, which will make him cum on the spot.

❥ Advocate for safe and healthy sex but prefers to hit it raw. He’ll use a condom if you want him to, he isn’t a monster. But the way you react when his cum fills out of your womb makes him want to wife you up and fuck you every single day.

❥ Designer lingerie is his weakness, especially the ones with garters that squeeze your thigh beautifully. If you wear red lingerie around him, be prepared to not be able to walk tomorrow because he will ruin your pussy.

❥ 100% a pleasure dom. Nothing makes him happier than knowing that he fucks you so good each and every night that you can’t even get off without his help anymore because that’s how much he loves to fuck you.

❥ Ass man. His hands will be on your ass all the time and you just have to accept it. He loves to fuck you from behind because he’s mesmerized by the way your ass moves as he fucks you. His favorite position is doggystyle.

❥ A weird turn-on for him is when you walk around wearing his jersey. He fucking loves it when you wear his jersey, and he can see your lacy panties poking out under the shirt, it drives him wild. If you wear his jersey, he gets an instant boner.

❥ Sit. In. His. Lap. Sit in his lap and dry hump him. He needs it so badly. He loves watching as you struggle to get off on his thigh. You look so cute when you’re desperate.

❥ Definitely a brat tamer. He loves it when you have an attitude because he gets to fuck it out of you later, spanking you as he tells you how much of a brat you are and how you need to learn your lesson. You never do.

❥ Mirror sex. He’s mesmerized by how adorable you look in the mirror as your pussy struggles to take his girthy cock.

❥ “Yeah? Look at yourself in the mirror, princess. Look at how your slutty little pussy is taking me. You’re such a little slut, you’re my little slut.”

❥ “Did you think you could just walk around in my jersey and nothing else? Bend over, princess, right fucking now.”

❥ “I’m so fucking close, shit. You want me to cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up and give you my babies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

❥ “Fuck, you know what red does to me. So fucking slutty for me, babygirl. Now get on the bed and spread those legs nice and wide like a good girl.”

❥ “Take it, fucking take it. That’s my good girl. I love it when you behave for me, princess. Can I get another one of you, my love? I think you can handle another orgasm.”

❥ “You look so pretty when you cum, princess. Do you like how your Morisuke makes you feel? Use your words, princess.”

[tgcg]

this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

[chaos-mix]

The Choices the Stars Make - 14th Doctor x reader

Summary: The Doctor promised you the stars when all you ever wanted was him. What happens when he’s finally ready to settle down? Will he reach out and try again?

Word count: 818

~~~~~~~~

You pull your blanket up higher as you turn to watch the stars shinning through the living room window. It does little to soothe the aching of your heart as your mind keeps spinning in “What ifs?”. What if you hadn’t left the doctor? What if you hadn’t asked him to stay?

You shake your head at the unfairness of the situation, turning your back on the cold stars, facing your laptop screen.

You squint at the brightness. The universe has never been fair. It wasn’t when you watched people crying out for your help die, and neither was it when you were forced to confess your true feelings to the Doctor. His discomfort and shift in body language did not surprise you, nor did his lack of touch in the weeks that followed. You just wish he hadn’t taken all of the joy of the night sky with him when you left.

Focus. You told yourself, but your heart sunk further, your fingertips getting cold on the plastic mousepad.

Observational Astronomy. A dry laugh forces its way out of your chest, making you feel hollow. You used to dance around the surfaces of planets, experience the sights never seen, the Tardis translating the x-ray and ultraviolet light spectrum for your eyes to witness true beauty of nebulas … now you’re finishing up a paper on observational astronomy and the photographs were in black and white. Life is funny like that. It feels like life lost some of the colour too. You wish it wasn’t 2am, life is easier to handle when you don’t have to stay up at night to work on something. Especially something that reminds you of him. Days are easier, warmth is easier. Warmth reminds you of joy of adventure, his hands, the kindness. Not his eyes when he left you.

~~~~~~~~

The Doctor did not seek you out. He did not wander the streets close to your house for too long. He did, however, made sure that no threats lingered close to your apartment at all times.

At least until his old face returned.

Oh so many regrets felt thrown back at his face. What he wasn’t able to give. The loved ones he lost… He grieved Rose for a long, long time, even after you met him. That same grief drove Martha away. Donna… River Song… He should have been able to save them all. How could he protect you if he couldn’t even keep his life as John Smith? And you knew. You saw him fall in love, you saw him live a normal life. He knows he hurt you beyond forgiveness when he grieved his human life and yet, despite all of that grief, did not choose to build one with you.

Seeing Donna again had him longing for the old days. The days of the three of you jumping through the universe, watching the joy on your faces! That was until the Earth got taken over by the Master he forced your feelings out in the open. Doctor could not deal with reliving his past through you. He couldn’t stomach losing you. He couldn’t make Donna go through the same darkness that Martha did when he was still grieving. Not to even mention Time Lord Victorious. His biggest regret. At least you were saved from watching it happen.

But now… now that he did not need to save the universe… now that he had someone else to entrust it to and now that the biggest decision of his day was how to protect the moles from Wilf… maybe he could give you the life you wanted after all.

~~~~~~

Your phone buzzed one day after the lectures and you instinctively answered it, expecting it to be one of your parents checking in. It was a rash decision you made to switch universities, but with all the stress of studying medicine and the flashbacks of lives you couldn’t save, switching to something familiar was an easier choice.

“Hello, yes, I’m still studying astronomy. No, I will not end up starving in the streets when I’m done.”

“…So you decided to study the stars?”

That… was not a voice you expected. Not that you would ever in a million years expect the Doctor to call you. He was someone who buried down feelings. He did not call ex-companions, only companions in trouble called him.

“… Doctor?” You chocked up. Funny. You planned to say so many things during all those sleepless nights and now all you could manage is “Is something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, the Doctor smiled a lopsided smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, but the words warmed his hearts. He still had time to turn back. He could run away and never look back.

But that soft kindness in your voice, even after all these years…

“Would you have some time to meet an old friend?”

[cheeseceli]

The Only Good Thing

Pairing: idol Hueningkai × Gn!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, fic (1k words)

Prompt: “aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell”

Warnings: scenes of overworking, brief panic attack, mentions of insecurities

A/n: because my boy deserves better | daily click

Did I ever tell you I'm not doing well?

Hueningkai should probably calm down. Sweating palms, accelerated heartbeat and a darkened vision isn't exactly the best state he has ever been in. He feels like he's losing it lately.

The pressure of the media, the hatred comments coming from all places at once and the high expectations make his life a living hell. For God's sake, even the compliments feel like daggers. Everything feels backhanded and it's tiring. It's exhausting and he has no idea of how long he can take that for.

But when he sees his members get up and continue practice, he feels a little bit dumbfounded. They suffer that too, don't they? Why do they look okay? Hueningkai feels like he will break if he does as much as getting up, so how are the members so... well?

Is he exaggerating his situation? Maybe that's why the comments say he's burdening the group?

He gets up slowly and trying his best to just not burst into tears. He needs to take it. He needs to keep going.

So he does.

Oh I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life

Maybe he's doing too much now.

It's been five hours since practice ended. Well, technically. It's been five hours since the rest of the boys left. But for hueningkai, this is just the start of the night.

He feels like he needs to do more. Everyone seems to agree on this, at least. On the fact that he is not enough. He truly doesn't want to leave the group - it's his home, his family and his dream. So the only possible outcome is for him to become worthy of it. So he will try as much as he can, even more than that.

And if it consumes him, well, it's a price to pay, isn't it?

His vision was still dark. He couldn't see properly, so that's probably the reason why he was so lost. Almost losing himself.

He also didn't notice how his cell phone was exploding with notifications. His members asking why he was taking so long to come back to the dorm and you asking where he was.

The gates to get out of hell were open, but he couldn't see amidst his hazy mind.

Dear angel;

It was around 2am when he heard the door to the practice room open and then Kai finally stopped his repeated movements. Standing with all your glory, even with a tired look into your face, you entered the room. If it wasn't for the timing, he could've sworn the sun had just reached its highest point on sky.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?"

"The boys called me a few times. All of them. They were worried because you didn't go home, so they thought you could be with me."

That would've been a way better idea, if he's being honest. It would've gave him the opportunity to sleep peacefully for at least a night before having to face the horrors of life in the morning. But he couldn't have this luxury, could he now?

"I had to practice a bit more. I told them that."

"Well, 'a bit more' is usually just an hour. It's not seven hours after the practice had ended. It's damn late now, Kai."

He looked out of the window. It was very dark outside.

"Why did you come here at this time? It's pitch black outside, something could've happened."

"A friend of mine lent me his car. That's how I came and that's how we'll be going back home."

"I still need to-"

"You need to sleep, Kai. To rest. Working until your bones fall off won't be of any help. Besides, Yeonjun told me you were doing just fine in the practice, why are you training so hard?"

"Because 'just fine' isn't enough" you heard his voice break at that. Everything in him was showing signs of an upcoming collapse. You had no idea of how long he'd be able to take in like that "I need to do better."

He looked at the floor, trying to breathe calmly. He was so focused on dancing before that he didn't feel anything, but now his body was so tired he felt like his knees would give up anytime soon. He already feels like he disappointed so many people, he can't disappoint you. Especially not you.

Even when looking down, he heard your footsteps get closer to him until he felt your hands on his cheeks. His body was extremely hot out of all that practice. The urgency of needing him to rest was just growing by the minute.

"Kai" he still didn't look at you. You knew he felt too ashamed to do so "Kai, please. You are such a good artist. A great one. You put your entire soul into your work and it's beautiful to see. Don't feel like you have to change that."

"I know some people who would disagree."

"I can guarantee you that those people have never seen a video of yours. They had never heard you sing. They are here only to hate because that's the only thing they know how to do. If they did pay attention to anything you ever did, they would fall in love with you. Just like your fans did. Like the boys and I did."

At this point, he couldn't take it anymore. Slowly, Kai gave up to your touch and rested his head on your shoulder, not caring anymore if he was crying or not.

"Let's go home, okay?"

You just felt his head nod in the crook of his neck. He felt that he was still lost in that hell of a maze, but at least now there was an angel willing to guide him through the exit. And God, how he wished he could get out soon enough and just be with you and your light.

Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

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Masterlist | you'll probably like: Proud

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 2 and 3 | Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

[waynewifey]

dear mr. wayne — b.w

part one: dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

summary: it’s not easy being a politician’s wife. it’s even harder to love a vigilante. months of negligence make you an easy target to his enemies.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: angst romance & dark action

warnings: swearing; smoking; kidnapping; violence; a bit of gore; “you” is she/her; bruce is the worst husband ever btw

word count: 2.8k

A/N: i wrote this back in january 2022 when the batman movie had just premiered, so kinda off the hype here. i hope you enjoy it anyway. already working on part 2, let me know if you guys would like it! also, this has taken a path way darker than i had in mind so i’m sorry if it’s too much. comments are appreciated!

gotham city, USA.

it's late.

you have no clock nearby, but you feel it in your bones. in your muscles too. it's too late and bruce should be home already. laying in the sofa, only half conscious, you regret telling alfred to go to bed. at least you wouldn't be alone. of course, being married to the batman you knew he would patrol at night often. you were okay with it. but lately bruce had been too focused on his other, and recent, goal: running for mayor. at first it seemed out of character, he was never good with the public or the press. but he stared at thomas wayne's painting in the hall in such painful façade, it made sense all off sudden. you were supportive of it. you showed up to every event just to stay by his side, to show the people the lovable man he was. the man you loved. the man who couldn't even be home for dinner.

the penthouse's elevator dings, opening its doors at the end of the hallway you see perfectly from your seat. your head doesn't lift instantly, like in the first week. instead, a long sigh escapes from your lips as bruce reaches the living room.

"hello, darling." he says, still in motion as he walks the stairway up to the room you shared. not a single kiss, or a hug. you follow him, because what else is there to do? you need to go to bed anyway. by the time you get there, slowly, his suit is already on the floor and he's taking a shower.

"how was the meeting?" you ask, knowing he usually did his Wayne Enterprising meetings — which consisted of hanging out long hours in bars with business men — at night. recently, he started a complicated relationship with a real estate company he wanted to invest in.

"the usual." he stopped fully answering these questions three weeks ago, making the only time you ever talked even shorter. the city has gotten more violent than ever since his batman duties were put on standby.

"any closer to sealing the deal?" you sit on the bed, watching the open bathroom door.

"probably." it's not like he's being rude. well, maybe a little bit. he just doesn't want to talk any more, it's clear on his tone. but it's 2am and you brain isn't working too well.

"when is this gonna end, bruce?" you finally say, as he puts his boxers on. "when are we ever having dinner again? or going on a date? when are you gonna stop treating me like i'm some sort of home decor?" you almost vomit out the words that have been stuck on your throat for days. surprisingly, the heartache doesn't softens. instead, it gets worse. it's like admitting your abandonment.

six months ago, you started trying to get pregnant. it hadn't always been a dream of yours, but the idea of having an heir to all you've spent your life building is charming. you realised you were in the right time to do so, you had just turned 28, bruce was 32, and both had stable careers. a month later, bruce announced his candidacy. and so soon you gave up. you told yourself once he won the election everything would be fine. you would try again. but, realistically, being a mayor was already a lot of work on itself. he wouldn't want a pregnant wife or a child to take care of. after the four years, who knows? he might as well have a new life project. and your family would always stand on the side.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." he doesn't look into your eyes. hell, he barely looks at you. that feeling, the negligence, is enough to trigger the tears. you take a deep breath, making an effort to look composed.

"don't you, though?" your voice is shaken. look at me. look at me. look at me. look at me. he doesn't. "bruce." you call, finally getting his attention. however, the boredom on his face knocks you off your feet, legs trembling in pain and anger. "i just want you to make an effort on us..."

"really? cause that's all i ever done." he's leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a way you would find attractive in other circumstances. but now he's yelling and you fight back the urge to shrink into the mattress. "do you think i wanna have a kid on this fucked up town? i'm tryna fix this. fix everything!" his faces turns red-ish. something inside of you makes you want to leave the room. you've always been an avoider, that is one of the reasons you hadn't really had couple fights. so, basically, this is very new. "i've got the weight of the fucking world on my back."

"let's leave then" you manage to say, replacing the you chose this. it was true, however, that he was the one to put himself in this position. bruce wayne could've gotten his entire life without working if he wanted to. but he always needed to save everyone, to suffer for other's happiness. he was a giver. sometimes you wondered if he needed to be saved instead.

"you know i can't do that." he mumbles, in a defeated tone. a sigh escapes from his lips, suddenly the tiredness takes over his face. it's almost enough to make you let it go, to internalise your distress again. he really can't, you know that. he feels that the city is his liability, because it was the only thing he had since he became an orphan. but he had you, too. he just didn't acknowledge that.

"and i can't stay like this." it sounds like an whisper, but it's a plead. choose me. please. he seems to read it in your eyes, face contorting in agony when he realises what you're asking for. me or gotham? it's stupid to think he would ever choose you. but you hoped, so desperately, because you would choose him. always.

"let's not do this tonight, okay? i have to be in the office by the morning." tears instantly fall as he turns off the lights and lays on the bed, turning his back to where you slept. for a moment, you're static. his words were final. were you ever in control of something in your life? why were all of these decisions being made for you? mechanically, you stand on both feet and walk to the door. you don't even notice your movement until you're on the elevator. your husband didn't intervene either. this neighbourhood is one of the safest in town, which honestly isn't much but you had to get out. anyway, nowhere is totally safe at 3am.

you walk two blocks, clinging to the fluffy sweater you wore. the depressing air of gotham slows your pace, to a point you start wondering if it was really necessary to be aware. you could feel the city devouring you, starting with your hope. the blue 24h sign lights up the street, in a way that isn't welcoming, but you know the place well enough to not be scared to get in. a bell sounds over the door and wakes up the male behind the counter. he's got long black hair and seems to haven't seen a good night of sleep in weeks. same,you think.

"hi. can i get the blue one?" you point at the camel's behind the man. he nods, quickly putting a pack on the wooden board. the prices pops up on the cashier's display. you pay and go outside. smoking was an bad habit from your college days, when pressure got too excruciating. every now and then you would treat yourself to some cigarettes, for the confidence it gave you. the sense of control to be the one, for once, ruining yourself. the smoke burns your throat on the first inhale and you hold back a cough. you're too entertained by the cigar to notice the black van approaching. it stops right in front of you, and everything happens too quickly for your brain to process. it's all dark.

he's in a meeting, the boring kind.

the kind that has him seated in silence while a representative talks to his employees, who never get to listen to their actual boss. there's a chart being shown on a large tv on the other side of the room. he's not listening, though. he's writing down ideas for a thanksgiving speech. a head pops into the conference room.

"mr. wayne." it's one of the new assistants, hired especially for the election season. he didn't care to memorise her name, because temps usually don't last long. if she hadn't called him, he might've not even looked up. but the room is silent, expecting eyes on him. the girl at the door looks terrified. "you're urgently required outside, please."

he sighs as he gets up from his leather chair. the second the door closed behind him, chatter is heard again. in the corridor, the woman conducts him to his office and they get in. there's a bit of a commotion, four men lounge around his table, all their faces tense.

"mr. wayne, i'm afraid we don't have good news." the head of the marketing team speaks, a man called robert vance. he's probably said the same phrase to bruce about seven times this month, so that doesn't do much. the assistant approaches with an ipad, unpausing a video. "we received this from an anonymous email about forty minutes ago. we weren't able to get the ip address just yet."

the video starts with a black screen, zooming out to show a woman with a bag over her head. she has her hands on her back and is kneeling on the ground. bruce's heart skips a beat noticing the hair falling down her shoulders.

"bruce wayne..." an eerie voice whispers from behind the camera, breathing heavily. "i've robbed an egg from your basket, and you haven't even noticed!" there's a disturbing chuckle and the video shakes a bit. bruce doesn't move, eyes stuck on the screen. no one in the room has done anything other than breathing. someone gulps. "it's been long hours, but we're having fun, aren't we, darling?" a gloved hand reaches for the bag, pulling it out. her face - your face - is dripping blood. you're biting on a fabric, still in your home clothes. bruce's jaw clenches. you're crying, face beaten, in this degrading situation. your eyes pierce the screen right into his. suddenly, a gun is tapped on your forehead and you close your eyes into a sob. your lips mouth please. "i'm running out of patience here, you're running out of time. let's do business, shall we?" he laughs, knocking the pistol on the side of your head, making you fall laying on the floor, unconscious. the spot bleeds. "here's my proposal: you come clean about your father's deal with carmine falcone and maybe i don't shoot little mrs. wayne... or i do both. it's your choice, really. the clock is ticking. tick tock, wayne."

the video stops, the sight of a gun pointed at your unresponsive body burns into his mind. bruce is panting, the adrenaline rushes into his brain. there's a million of plans being built, but none of them seem viable.

"don't let media get this." he managed to say. one of the men in suits says it's too late. the tv flicks on showing a news report on the video. he kicks the side of his table, the contents being thrown across the room. "FUCK! you bastards wait forty fucking minutes to show me this?" he screams, no one can look him in the eyes. a hand runs through his black hair. "meanwhile my wife is out there with a gun on her head! and what have you done? i swear to god, if i don't find her alive and well i'm killing everyone in this goddamned room with my bare hands."

he storms out of there, reaching to his phone to call alfred and noticing the multiple missed calls. fucking silent mode. the sun is setting.

"i got the address." the butler says, instead of hello. a 'ding' sounds in his ear.

there has been pain for so long. you try to remember before the pain. but all is pain. he has to make it stop.

the floor is cold cement and you feel so small in this huge warehouse. the man in the mask knows you can't run. not only you're tied up, but the will had left you long before getting dragged into that van. he sees it in your eyes. so he strolls around, always in that ridiculous dark green overall. then he beats you up for fun. no cameras. just you and the devil himself. you find yourself praying, after all these years. you don't pray to get out, no. you pray so that it ends soon. you pray that the stab wound in your abdomen will get you an infection. you pray that when you close your eyes, you never have to open them again. but the divine has left you in the cold cement.

there's an explosion. your eyes open. there's smoke and dust taking over one of the walls. you're seeing everything horizontally, cheek on the floor. the man in green is just as scared as you were.

bruce wayne busted that fucking wall down. he expected a full team of psychopaths and maybe some more security. there was just one coward in the warehouse. the thing stares at him coming out of the smoke, fingers fidgeting. the batman steps forward. the freak steps back. then turns around, runs to a half broken wardrobe and grabs a gun from it. bruce walks slowly. there's a struggle loading the gun. he takes the opportunity to run and throw the thing on the floor. he bangs his head on it. the vermin screams. he takes one punch. two. tries to reach for the fallen gun. bruce steps on his hand and the loud crack echoes in the room. he screams again. three punches. the mask is taken off. his nose is bleeding. more punches. he holds the neck. the head is turning purple. oh how he wants to kill this little shit. bruce wayne will kill him. it will just take a few more seconds...

"baby, no" at first he thinks he's imagining it. it's so soft, so weak. but he looks up and there she is. his hands loose. right on the corner, chains on her legs. her face is ruined from blood and dirt. her wrists bleed too. the motherfucker chained her. hell is too good for this thing.

bang. on his shoulder. he looks down and the blood is dripping on the freak's face. he’s pushed to the side, holding the wound. tiny white dots obstruct his vision. he grunts through the pain. the man gets up and runs towards you. bruce can’t move. he arches his back, trying to roll and lay on his chest. it feels like he can’t move his arm anymore, like his bones had detached. when he finally does so, the man is escaping through a window. his hand searches for the adrenaline-boost in his belt, grabs it and quickly injects on his leg. it takes a second to get his blood rushing again. he crawls up and jumps through the window, which leads him to a metal balcony.

you’re almost standing, but he holds your chains and a gun to your face. the shooting sound had scared you awake. you can’t believe how close to bruce you finally are, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. you can hear water running below your feet, you don’t need daylight to show you the violent river you’re standing above. this is not good.

bruce has his hands up in the air and is holding himself back to not do anything stupid. the man’s face is contorting into the creepiest smile. no.

everything happens so slowly, yet he’s not quick enough to grab you in time. you’re falling in the air and he jumped after you. for a moment, the world is air. you can’t hold out your hand. your hair is flying in your face, he does not want to die without seeing you one last time. his cape holds him back and the distance between you only increases. you’re gone. the impact comes.

part two

[sugarbag]

✰﹣𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗯𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 :)

abby anderson x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀. what i think being in a relationship with abby would be like! (i have brainrot)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. none i think, apart from poor writing because it's 2am 🤡 reader is referred to as girl a few times and it's implied that reader has long hair

FLUFF.

an. ummm so im officially obsessed with abby. theres a part at the end thats very specific for black women because self-insert 💅 but i'll put a little ✰ beforehand! english is still not my first language :) if you enjoy this pleeease let me know!

- ok so first of all, abby is baby. she is soooo serious about nicknames it's adorable!! once you start calling her by a nickname it better stick because she will literally pout all day if you call her abby. if you do her call something other than a cheesy nickname, she really likes abigail. the way it rolls off your tongue, the way it feels like she's owned by you when you call her that, it makes her giddy :)

for you, she goes for "sweet girl" or "angel" :))

-is a clean freak. like an actual freak. she WILL bully you into folding your socks neatly next to hers and god forbid you leave crumbs in bed

-i do not care what anybody says, abby is an ass girl. when you're cuddling, her hand always finds its way to your behind. and when you question her about it, she says it must be sorcery.

of course, she loves every part of you but dat ass... do not bend over near her, she absolutely will fake fuck you from the back and put her whole heart into it. im talking grunting and moaning and you're just standing there like🤰

- she's such a great cook! she learned how to cook with her dad and after his passing, it became a way to feel closer to him. so she cooks for you all the time and acts grumpy when you call her your little housewife but she loves it really :)

-FOREHEAD KISSES‼️especially if there's a height difference, shes such a sucker for those! receiving and giving of course

- please play with her hair :( if you don't know how to braid, she'll teach you :(( BRAID IT OMGGG she loves when you do anything with her hair, brush it, braid it or just pass your hand in it, she'll take anything :) she'll only let you touch her hair, especially if it's undone and her beautiful blonde strands are on display goshhhh

- she will 100% let you paint her nails whatever color you want. no questions asked.

- shares everything with you. sometimes not even on purpose. like her clothes are your clothes and vice versa, you two basically have one big closet. gives you her jacket (the WLF one:)) you want some fries from abby's plate? done. you like her pine scented bodywash a little too much? it's yours :)

- absolutely HATES horror movies. she cannot stand them, maybe a few classics not too gorey but either way she just doesnt watch them. truth is she's a scaredy cat when it comes to horror movies, so when you insist to watch one together, you see your 6ft tank of a girlfriend with her eyes half open and flinching at every noise. truly an hilarious sight. if you watch horror movies alone, she'll just stand like a dad and never sit down because it scares her less that way lol🧍‍♀️

- ok so she's not big on pda but god is she clingy. she never lets go of you (not that you're complaining), always wants to touch you in some way, wether its by holding you hand or having her hand in your back pocket :)

- takes you on surprise dates!! you randomly get texts like "are you busy rn? the museum is open👀" or "it's been a while since we've been at the park. put your shoes on" XJDJSBD

- acts like she hates sunscreen just so that you'll have to put it on for her and smirks the whole time

- takes all the space in bed and when you complain about it, she just puts you on top of her "there, you go angel, got enough space now?"

- SHE LOVES CUDDLING big spoon, little spoon or just being intertwined on your shared bed, she just loves physical touch, ESPECIALLY yours <3

- she's an early bird. i believee abby has the sleep schedule of a grandpa, so she goes to sleep at 9pm sharp and wakes up at 5am to go to the gym. once you tried to persuade her to stay up longer and you got to 10:30pm🙀

- if you go to the gym with her, she'll be like a little kid, all excited to show you around and stays with you the whole time to teach you some exercises. doesn't matter if you know them already, she WILL show you everything

- is a bigggg fan of deep conversations. very early in your relationship, the two of you would have hours long conversations about literally anything. but at some point, you realize you've been talking for a while and abby's just sitting there, gazing at you and admiring everything about you. the way you talk, your voice, the little mimics you make or the way you move your hands when you're animated.. yeah she's down bad.

- she lovesss when you do skincare together, pretended like she hated it at first but she just feels so comfortable with you, she feels at ease. she can relax more and having a sheet mask on with cucumber slices under her eyes is surprisingly relaxing

- her main love languages are physical touch (i know, shocker), gift giving and quality time!

- gifts you sooooo many plushies but pouts when you put them on your bed?? and you're like, "where else should i put them?" and when she points to the closet, you're so offended. they're your babies they are not going in the closet. when you're both laying on the bed, she gives them the stink eye >:

- loves being domestic. cooking together, cleaning together, going to the museum and talk about what you saw days after still, taking walks in the park like an old married couple :) she just can't wait to be your wife :))

✰ (a few thoughts about abby with a black gf!)

- STEALS YOUR SHAMPOO! and when you tell her about, she acts innocent as if her hair didn't smell like shea butter and coconut

- that woman is fascinated by your hair routine. every product you have, she tries it out on herself because she lovesss the smells. she could watch you do your hair for hours (she has)

- wants to help with wash day and she gives the best scalp massages. gets a bit messy if she helps you and definitely takes even more time but she's so precious when she does it :( "is the water too hot?" "is that okay?" "am i tugging too hard?"

- is a fucking beast when it come to braiding your hair once you teach her, she can do anything, box braids, cornrows, knotless, YOU NAME IT

- could watch you in the sun for hours (she does) in an every day context she already wants to stare at you all the time, but when your skin is glowing in the light? she looks at you like you hang the moon and stars

- she wears bonnets religiously and you have matching ones ughh thats too cheesy (but true)

LOOK AT HER‼️‼️

can you tell abby's my girlfriend??

tell me if you like it <3

✰﹣𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔟𝔞𝔤

[revalition]

OCT 18 - ELECTROCHEMISTRY Go to party planet. Love and be loved by drugs.

.... (looks at calendar) yup definitely october 18th today, don't mind us. this didn't even take that long, I wish I could have done more for one of my fav boys. we were putting off a task we didn't want to do (update resume) which meant getting stuck doing nothing at all for 2 days :)))

tomorrow is full of stuff we dont want to do too so... might fall behind on skilltober a bit. it's ok. but it's almost 2am and we gotta be up at 8 so gonna stop rambling now!!! (much love from the main guy who runs this blog and echem!! we're both here!)

lotssss of stuff under the cut! of my wonderful guy!

fun facts:

- has a swear score of 9/10 (calculated by yours truly) second only to half light

- he damages volition only once and heals volition 10 times! that's also the most healing out of any of the skills

- this impolite guy never once says sorry or please. he does say thank you once (to idiot doom spiral for inviting them to party)

- calls you Harry 3 times, boy 7 times, son once, man 13 times (+ calls volition man twice lol), baby 13 times, darling once, buster once, sir once, chief once, buddy 2 times, brother twice, detective 3 times... he talks to you a lot! I'm sure I'm missing some too

- calls himself your mesolimbic reward pathway, your glands, receptors/GABA-receptors, your pleasure response/centres, your electrochemistry, your parasympathetic nervous system, your moral compass (uhm...), your brain (that's a bit presumptuous) again probably missing some

- the 30 screenshot limit is *evil* >:(

also, electrochemistry's name translates directly to electrochemistry in almost all the languages disco has been translated to (which is interesting on its own, electrochemistry is the study of the chemistry of electrons moving) except the chinese translation -- 食髓知味

I don't speak a word of chinese so forgive me if this is off but google translate directly translates it to "Eat the marrow to know the taste". Apparently it is an expression meaning that once you've had a taste of something (the marrow) you will want to have it again, and is used in a negative way.

it... describes echem's role in the game quite clearly. anyway this seemed way too cool to not share.

onto the quotes!

he's so sassy

true! true! tell him echem!

I love love love this one. echem recognizes joy. kim's joy!!

shhhhhh

volition only trying to rein in electrochem... he's all alone out here haha

so delightful, happy electrochem!!!

no 😭 why is he *like that* sometimes. rhetoric knows he's gonna suggest something stupid before echem even opens his mouth. actual idiot. this is a godly check too! he gets sooo stupid at high levels...

hitting this guy with a rolled up newspaper >:|

pleaseee volition make him stop talking. he's so bad. I know he's just doing what he knows, but he's doing it in a manipulative way

look how stupid he is <3 this is when you make the jump for your coat, while you're falling through the air...

alternate outcome!! this line is actually so sad ☹️ noooo... sweetie your precious friend is still there it's okay you'll be okay

electrochemistry making this horrible situation even worse! pleaseee dude not *THE EXPRESSION* I want to strangle him. volition fighting for his life out here

he wants to be famous <3

I didn't mean to put 3 quotes in a row of authority and echem getting along but here we are. echem just wants to buy stuff he doesn't know any better!

one millisecond before hurling the pétanque ball into the ocean... at least he had fun doing it

he praises you for pouring your alcohol on the ground to honour the people you and kim have killed in the line of duty. okay my dude...

YES shit on the kingdom of conscience! someone has to!

what is wrong with him? (affectionate)

these increasing difficulty electrochemistry checks... thanks for making everyone regret asking man. and regret ever leveling you up that high in the first place...

if you rejected the task to find a drink, echem doesn't want it!

echem turning down the opportunity to use the expression, and it's just cause he isn't interested... dying. dying here.

this is a classic and a favourite. I was like 3 minutes into the game when I got this and was like ohhh... what's with this guy. oh dear.

bad :( don't call him a *lamo* stupid skill. him referring to himself by his own name is funny, I don't think any of the others do that

idiot doom spiral cuts him off here. but electrochemistry is the only skill that talks about the basal ganglia (Ancient Reptilian Brain). After some research it looks like the mesolimbic pathway and basal ganglia are closely related, and certain structures are even shared between them. Which might explain why electrochemistry is more in tune with ancient reptilian brain than the other skills. There's actually a really similar thing with perception (smell) talking to limbic system, and the olfactory system and limbic system share pathways in the brain. fascinating. which then raises the question of if pre-martinaise harry knew these things -- knows what a mesolimbic pathway is, and an olfactory system and a basal ganglia, and then named them accordingly? or if it was something else...?

(hopefully this is right, I'm a programmer not a neuroscientist. if someone who actually knows about brains knows more please say something lol)

anyway. onto other quotes.

look at them, look at the idiots <3

he's so sarcastic. look at him, focusing on what really matters! good job buddy

he's gonna kill volition one of these days. also happened in my first playthrough lol, my very high electrochemistry meant I became very fond of volition very fast.

volition... volition beloved, trying to stop you. electrochemistry *lying*. I believe volition about the vow, shush. but also... it is sooo sad that he thinks you guys can't make it without speed :( it's clearly that thought process, that it's better to risk your own health and save as many people as you can, that got things to be as bad as they are... he's got so many issues.

anyway. I've never hit 30 screenshots so fast, yikes. I love this guy so much. I have *so* many thoughts about him... how his role in harry's life would change after being sober and clean for a while... he just wants you to be happy.

[myx-on-earth]

Content Warning: Landfall Game's April Fools Triumph

For the Content!

It would seem that an April Fools joke of a game has resulted in overnight indie success. Landfall Games, a beloved indie game studio, has a yearly April Fools tradition they call “Landfall Day”, where their devs put together essentially a parody of whatever game is popular at the time. They’ve parodied everything from DayZ to battle royales (Twice, with Totally Accurate Battlegrounds and Knightfall), and this year it would seem it’s Lethal Company’s turn.

Lethal Company is a game known for silly co-op shenanigans that seem to instantly translate into YouTube content- and Content Warning takes that idea and turns it up to 11, making being an influencer a part of the game mechanics. You and a group of friends take a diving bell to “The Old World”, a spooky map filled with monsters and traps entirely for the sake of internet entertainment value. With a single camera and 90 seconds of film, your group has to make the spookiest, funniest video possible- because your only source of income is Spooktube, and that revenue doesn’t come easily.

It's such a brilliant parody of both the horror genre Lethal Company tapped into and the loop of content creation in the internet age that it, somehow, wraps around to being an excellent game in of itself, though Landfall is no stranger to finding gold through satire. Previously, their first battle royale parody (Totally Accurate Battlegrounds, a riff on PUBG) found some success, enough that Landfall turned it into a full venture. It’s not as popular nowadays, but it IS legitimately good- and Content Warning seems to be turning out the same way with its initial popularity and engaging premise.

Typical Content Warning video result, featuring myself, @thatpocketninja, @squiddskipp, and a third friend who requested to remain anonymous

In the space of video game development, April Fools seems to be not so much a “joke” day, but a day that allows ideas to be thrown around that might not otherwise have been considered, which can lead to majorly creative leaps of faith. With examples like the Yakuza series’ pivot to turn-based combat, Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon’s continued success in the midst of a floundering Ubisoft, and even Lilith Walther’s upcoming definitely-not-Bloodborne Kart (now known as Nightmare Kart), the idea of “joke turned legitimate gamedev venture” isn’t exactly new.

I actually had the pleasure of exchanging emails with Hanna Fogelberg (@thebirdmountain on Twitter), Landfall's Head of Community, who provided some insight into Content Warning’s development and the overwhelming response in the interview below.

1. What's it like to go to bed seeing some success, then waking up to find your joke game is a viral hit? Did you expect this at all, given the surprising amount of polish it has?

"We couldn't sleep to tell you the truth! Even if the team said good night at about 2am we kept texting the player numbers to each other throughout the night, we were very wired! We always knew there was the potential of the game going really well, there's something about the design and shareability of the videos you make that we knew could hit it big but it's still surprising it went THIS well."

2. How long did it take to develop Content Warning?

"Content Warning was made in about six weeks of active game development, but the idea came to us back in December!"

3. What were your main inspirations for the game? (Beyond Lethal Company, of course)

“Lethal Company and similar games were an obvious reference for the gameplay loop, we love that game! That said, what was most interesting to us was the core of the game - the filming and video creation. We were inspired by YouTubers and influencer culture, there's something interesting in people risking life and limb for content that we wanted to play off of. 

Other than that, the vibes of The Older World were inspired by Junji Ito and a specific H.R Giger painting while The Over World references the Swedish children's book Pettson och Findus.”

4. How experienced was the dev team?

“We're pretty experienced, the Landfall team has been making games for over 10 years with previous releases being Totally Accurate Battle Simulator, Stick Fight: The Game, Clustertruck and Rounds to mention a few.”

5. How does this experience compare to the last semi-viral success Landfall had with a Landfall Day game? (TABG)

“This game outdid TABG in player numbers several times over! So it's hard to compare, this is by far our most viral hit to date.” 6. Any plans for the future of the game? Or just basic bug fixes and some more content? 

“We will see! Currently, we're focusing on fixing bigger bugs and other issues but we already have some new content planned. We're kind of playing it by ear at this point, it all depends on how things go in the coming weeks.”

Some may attribute Content Warning’s success to multiple factors- the 24 hour free period, how it riffs on Lethal Company and the tropes it already employs, or even that it was “designed to go viral”- but you can’t deny that, even as an iterative piece, it still manages to find its own identity and already seems to have captured the content creation hearts of everyone who gives it a chance. Games like this, that aren’t reliant on micro transactions and are buoyed by the PEOPLE you play with, rather than the money that one must spend on it, are the hope- and, hopefully, the future- of the video games industry. You can find Content Warning (No longer free, but still very cheap!) at the link below: https://store.steampowered.com/app/2881650/Content_Warning/

[softguarnere]

2 am

Joe Liebgott x reader

A/N: (this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) This fic idea has been banging around in my head for a solid year now, but for some reason I'm only just now writing it. Oops. The title comes from "2am" by Foals. Thanks for reading, and I hope that you enjoy! Warnings: alcohol, mentions of the Holocaust, language (one f-bomb and that's it)

For the middle of summer, the night air is cool against your warm cheeks when you stumble out of the hotel lobby, arms slung around the necks of your friends as the three of you lean into each other for support and guidance as you make your way to the curb. The three of you are still laughing at some joke that Luz made back inside when the cab pulls up.

“Here you go.” Careful not to lose his grip on you, Luz opens the back door of the cab and guides you towards the back seat.

You really should be getting back to your hotel, but you don’t want this night to end. And who would, after all the fun you’ve been having with your old friends? It’s nice to see them again, to catch up with them, like you’re finally getting to know them without the constant threat of German artillery fire looming over your heads.

“I’ll take the next one,” you protest.

This makes Babe laugh. “Nope. Drunkest person needs to get home first. We gotta make sure you get in the cab before you pass out.”

You fix your old friend with the best intimidating look that you can manage in your current condition. “You drank way more than me, Heffron.”

Babe chuckles. “But I can actually hold my liquor.”

Well, touché. You can’t argue with that one.

“Can you make it home okay?” Luz asks.

“I’ll be fine,” you promise. After all, you’re not nearly as drunk as they seem to think that you are . . . At least, you don’t think you are.

As if he can see your thought process, Luz laughs. “I’ll swing by tomorrow morning to make sure that you’re still alive.”

Your friends close the door of the cab then. Babe taps the glass of the window twice to signal to the driver that you’re ready to go. On cue, the car pulls forward, slowly pulling out of the hotel’s drive. Only when it nears the exit of the parking lot does your driver finally ask his question.

“Where to?” A voice with a familiar raspy quality wants to know.  

The sound is enough to make you freeze, your breath stuck in your throat. Maybe you are drunk. Yes, that must be it – the alcohol making you hear what you want to hear, using some wild manifestation of your subconscious desires. Because you haven’t heard that voice in years. You haven’t seen its owner in just as many. And you certainly didn’t expect to run into him here, of all places.

Your eyes jump to the rear-view mirror. A lump the size of a golf ball appears in your throat. Because even in the faded light of the late summer night, there can be no mistake as to who is staring back at you, waiting expectantly for your answer. Even after all these years, even though you can only see his eyes, you would recognize him anywhere.

“Joe?” Somehow, the words manage to push past the lump in your throat, echoing through the car in the silence that has fallen.

Click-click, click-click. The turn signal methodically keeps time, a metronome as your fellow paratrooper waits for a reply. Though you still haven’t said anything, he takes a right out of the parking lot and eases onto the road.

“Guy behind us was looking impatient,” he says by way of explanation.

It’s Joe Liebgott, you can tell. From the voice, the eyes, the way he tensed when you said his name. Would he have reacted that way if anyone else had said it? Or is it only because of you and the things that happened between the two of you so long ago?

The car is moving and you probably shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, trying to get a better look at him. He’s so close – closer than you ever thought he would be – but he seems unreal and worlds away, like a dream that you can almost, but not quite, reach.

“Is it really you?” You whisper.

Joe sighs, a familiar sound. “Yeah, (Y/N). It’s me.”

“San Fransisco,” you remember aloud, some far away memory of some offhand comment that he once made to someone filtering into your memory. “You always said that you would come back here.”

He only nods. Your heart thuds in your chest. There’s so much to say, to ask, yet it feels like you’re running out of time for it all.

“And now you’re here,” Joe finally says. “With . . . them.”

It takes your brain a second to work out that he means Luz and Babe. Two of the many members of Easy Company who came to the reunion this year. Unlike some people.

“You didn’t come to the reunion.”

“No.” He makes a noise that might be a laugh. “Kind of defeats the purpose when you’re trying to leave the war behind you.”

Leave the war behind you. A slap in the face would have hurt less. Is that why he stopped calling you? Stopped answering your letters? You met during the war, during boot camp, and made it through the whole thing together – from Georgia to the Eagle’s Nest. You had been under the impression that you could make it back to the States . . . Well, at least now you know that Joe had different ideas.

“Then why are you here?” You ask. It’s a fair enough question; Easy Company reunions always generate a lot of attention. Joe happening to be outside of the hotel that was hosting this year’s reunion can’t be a coincidence, can it?

His silence is all the answer that you need.

“You showed up, but you didn’t come inside. Why?” Before he can answer, you add, “And don’t say the thing about leaving it all behind you again. I got that part, okay?”

You can hear Joe’s mouth shut with a click. You hadn’t meant to snap the last part at him. But seeing him here . . . All the anger, the sadness, anything you ever felt about or towards Joe Liebgott that you’ve spent years repressing is now rising to the surface.

“I think you know why,” Joe mutters.

No! You want to snap. No, I don’t understand how you could have left me hanging like that, after all that we went through together, all that we meant to each other.

“I – “ He clears his throat, shakes his head. “I was only hoping to see you. Just . . . I don’t know. I thought that would be enough, if I saw you. I never expected you to get into my cab.”

“And now I’m here.”

“Now you’re here.”

Thankfully the darkness of the night hides your faces from each other. In the solitude it provides, you can feel warmth bubbling and spilling over your eyelids, leaving glossy trails down your cheeks that shimmer gold in the passing streetlights. When it was clear that Joe was done with you, you had decided to leave him and your affections towards him behind. Clearly a part of you never quite let go. That much is clear to you now, as tears escape you without your permission.

Still driving, Joe glances up at the rear-view mirror, catching your eye. Your teary eyes. You can hear the frown in his voice.

“(Y/N)?”

“You left me behind,” you whisper.

For a moment, more silence. Then, “I know. And you know what? It was the stupidest decision that I ever made.”

Yes, it was. For a while, having loved him, having trusted him, felt like the stupidest decision that you ever made. It seems so terribly silly and childish to be sitting behind the man you once loved wholeheartedly – the man who broke your heart – and to wish for nothing more than for the two of you to go back to the way that you once were.

Second times the charm? Or should you follow a policy of “fool me once”?

“I want to go home,” you say. “Can you take me home? Please?”

Joe nods. “Where to?”

You give him the name of the hotel that you’re staying in. The cab fills with the rhythmic click-click, click-click of the blinker as Joe changes lanes, easing the car onto the exit and then navigating onto the quickest route like a master. There are several times when you hear him draw a breath as if to speak, but he never says anything. You keep quiet, allowing him the silence to concentrate on his driving.

Say something! Part of your brain – or is it your heart? – demands. You never expected to see him again, and now the chance is here. The destination is fast approaching, and then what will you do? If only you don’t squander it, this could be your chance to say all the things that have plagued you for years.

The cab slows as Joe sidles up to the hotel. Warm light from the lobby spills out the door and into the back of the cab, beckoning you into its safety. However, something stronger in the front of the cab keeps you firmly in place.

“I can’t sleep alone. Not again.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you’ve even had the chance to register them in your mind.

For the first time since you got into the cab, Joe turns to face you so that you can look at each other head-on. He frowns.

You rush on. “Do you remember Austria? After we liberated that camp, I never thought that I would sleep again. I only got rest because you were willing to flaunt the fraternization policy to come hold me, keep me safe.”

“I remember.”

“I think about that, sometimes,” you admit. You probably shouldn’t have told him that, given him that power over you. But who doesn’t regret the things they say at 2 a.m.?

Joe pushes a sigh, long and hard, through his nose. “Fuck.” He adjusts his position so that he’s leaning further back into the cab, closer to you. Through the darkness, you can see the conflict so clearly on his face, with his wrinkled brow, his frown. It’s so familiar.

“I’m sorry,” Joe says. “I really . . . I was stupid. You deserved better than that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought that I was sparing you.”

“From what?”

“All my pain. My anger.”

“You don’t think I have that, too?”

Joe blinks, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. When your boyfriend should have been helping you through those things, you had to rely on your old friends from the company instead. You would have helped him through his struggle, if he had only let you.

Then again, Joe Liebgott always had trouble asking for and admitting when he needed help.

“Park the car, Joe,” you say. “No, not here. In one of the parking spots.”

“Why?” Joe asks, even though he’s already pulling into a parking spot – he gets it perfect on the first try, effortlessly.

“Because,” you say. “You’re done driving for the night. You’re coming up to my hotel room and we’re finally going to talk.”

Joe kills the engine, but he doesn’t move from his seat. For a moment he stares at you, like he isn’t sure if this is real, or if he should. He must make up his mind because he nods, gets out of the car, and comes around to open your door for you. In the old days, he would have smirked at you, given you some pick-up line to hear you laugh. Now, he watches you with reserve.

Maybe this is a mistake. But if either of you really feels that what happened was a mistake, then there’s the possibility that it can be fixed, even after all these years. Not in one night, but it will be a start. Tonight, you can do something for Joe that people so often forget that he needs – show him some understanding, some compassion. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to reignite the light that once existed between you again.

[xruiiii-blog]

Hi I’m literally obsessed with this au

I have a couple questions I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you but I’ve been analyzing this comic for way too long

Who is leading mountain to be killed? Who is getting crowned? Why is mountain being killed? Are the rest of the knights/other portraits other ghouls? Who is helping phantom unbury him? Is phantom unveiling him at the end?

I’m so sorry I’m obsessed, your art is amazing and thank you for your time

Thanks for the time and energy you invested into this!!! Wow! I might disappoint you after this haha. But u know! Always analyze and believe in whatever you think it’s the best explanation! I love when ppl have their own understanding of a piece :) that’s why there’s no dialogue

Anyway about the comic…

It supposed to be a simple “once upon a time” kinda thing. A bedtime tell, someone’s small piece of memory, a casual story that’s melancholy. Nobody’s really important, except the little prince and his knight. There’s no deeper meaning other than the lonely prince lost the only person he cares about to a war.

Something about the titan knights is that they don’t care about their identity. Their powers and skills are the things that matters. That’s their identity instead of who that person is under that mask. They are weapons and they like to keep it that way. Meaning that if any one of them dies during the war, a weapon has served its purpose. The others will move on and there’s no sorrow. I don’t want to talk too much about different species lore here it’s a lot…maybe next time :)

However, the two anonymous knights are rather closer to Mountain and Phantom than everyone else. They are also more human-like. They are more sentimental than some others on the team. It’s not anyone’s fault that the titans are this way btw, it’s just how things is. These two knights care about phantom more than the others does spiritually, they kinda understand how close their captain was to the prince and what Mountain meant to him. So they take him to Mount. Usually titans don’t even take the dead body back with them. It’s not like they don’t care, they do, but to them dead body it’s meaningless. No longer serve any purpose. Titans don’t ever grieve, mourn, or anything.

Phantom does. Be glad that he’s even able to contact with the corpse one last time cuz a lot of times soldier’s grave is just an empty tomb. That’s also why he digs. He needs to see it himself in order to let go. He places the veil back to place and sees what he’s familiar with for his whole life. The mere illusion that Mount is still with him.

…

Honestly this whole thing came to me at 2am and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I feel like its more of a vibe, very vague story and fear of death I didn’t executed it the way I wish I could (skill issue…) anyway my first actual try at drawing comics and it took me 2 miserable weeks(it was okay). I shared this before I have concentrate issue my attention span is short💀…ngl the process it’s challenging and I wasn’t expecting ppl to understand what’s happening or even read it. I didn’t expect myself to finish the whole thing even lol. Glad you like it and look at it with these much appreciation AND letting me know!!! :)) that’s what I was tryna say. 🖤🖤🫶🫶🫶

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Fluff? Fluff. Only slightly sexual. Tseng x Gunsmith!Reader. It doesn't matter if it's noon or midnight. If Tseng feels like there's something off about his firearm, he's on his way to you. He’ll never take no for an answer since it's “what we pay you for.” 

*****

“One of these days, this crappy 1911 is going to get you killed.” You couldn't help the irritation seeping into your voice. Nor could you stop yourself from giving Tseng a lecture about upgrading his firearm entirely. Considering he woke you from your sleep at 2am, you had the right to be in an unpleasant mood. The frequency in which Tseng has come by over his weapon has been increasing quite a bit in the past couple of months. You weren't even sure what spare parts you had left for his gun right now. 

Pulling the slide back, resulting in a failed attempt to chamber a round. Next, dropping the magazine and dislodging the now stuck bullet. Giving Tseng a disapproving look over your kitchen table as you tried loading the gun a few more times, resulting in the same misfeeding problem. You were too tired for this shit. Going over your usual inspection, you note a considerate amount of damage as you break down the gun. ‘Is that rust?’ You think to yourself, as many parts as you've replaced in the last couple of months that just shouldn't be. You've never spotted rust on his weapon before either, Tseng has always gone out of his way to keep his 1911 oiled and clean. So why did the entire assembly look so...neglected? 

That's when it dawned on you. Tseng didn't need to be here. He wanted to be here. You weren't sure how you didn't catch it sooner, but this wasn't his usual firearm. One look at the grips could've told you that.  Giving Tseng a chance to confess to his actions, asking when the last time he used the gun was. 

“Yesterday's target practice. I could only get a few shots off before it started jamming.” Lies, he was lying through his perfect teeth. 

“So what made you change pistols? Didn't like the upgrades I did to the last one?” You can't help the smirk dancing on your lips as Tseng frowns, knowing that he was caught red-handed. 

“Can you fix it or not?” Deflecting. It was his strong suit, that's for sure. Of course you could. You already planned on rebuilding it to ensure its full functionality.

“Yes,” you start, making your way around the table until you were standing directly in front of Tseng. Grabbing his face gently so he was forced to look at you. “Why don't you tell me why you're really here.” 

You knew why. You just wanted to hear it come from his mouth. Everything sounds so much better when it's coming directly from the source, especially if that source is Tseng. With the routine the two of you have fallen in, it's a wonder he still comes up with excuses just to see you. Popping up to ask you questions that you were sure he knew the answer to. At times certain he was lying when he'd complain about defects in his firearm. Often finding nothing to be wrong with it at all, but humoring him by replacing the parts that he claimed may be troublesome. Usually taking care of any additional 'needs' he may have afterwards.

Tseng grabs the back of your thighs, fingers grazing your ass as he guides you to straddle his lap. Looking up at you with soft brown eyes, his voice a bit too shy in comparison to his actions. “I just wanted to see you. It's been a while.” 

“It's been a week.” Placing a quick kiss on his lips, hearing him mumble that it had been ‘a long week without you’ before he pulled you into a much deeper kiss. Not breaking away from you as he picked you up and pressed you against the table.

Sleep would have to go on the back burner for now. Knowing Tseng, he would have his way with you until he was fully spent. Making sure to keep a mental note to inform Tseng he doesn't have to come up with excuses to come by. If he wants you. He can have you. 

****

I was just staring at a lot of Tseng and finally noticed boyo uses a 1911. At least it looks like it. Makes sense considering it's known as a government issued firearm. Not a fan of 1911's…maybe it's due to small hands. Or the fact that I have yet to go through a session where a 1911 doesn't jam. (I cannot confirm if it's a 1911 as I can't find anything about his gun. Just based off of what I see)

[radioroxx]

hi pluto i’m here to ask if u have any isat headcanons. about anybody! hope u have a good sunday :))

HAPPY SUNDAY VIA can i call you via. hello

ive mentioned my tattoo hcs before but im gonna expand on them as best i can rn because i think about it occasionally (i am making a lot of this up. right now! for you!)

ok so odile has a lower back tattoo she got in her 20s and i feel very strongly about this one 1. because i think its funny 2. because it makes her 10x cooler. the other day in my moots disc we talked about the idea of odile having a past polycule that she broke off from and so ive adopted that idea and decided the tattoo is a matching one. she does not regret it at all and is still (somewhat) in touch with her ex’s. siffrin was the first person she told about this, drunkenly btw, and for months afterwards he couldnt remember if it was Actually Real or just something his brain made up (and they were too scared to ask lol)

siffrin has star tattoos on his back and shoulders! i was considering giving him sleeves but i changed my mind,, he got them while he was still travelling on his own. possibly theres a region that is more well known for tattooing (havent decided what this would be though)! he was interested from a ‘learning about new culture’ perspective, also just because Why Not. he chose to get stars because it felt right. he somewhat regrets it. (maybe, post canon and later on their journey, he would try out something else. different designs. things inspired by his family! or things he wants to remember)

isabeau has no tattoos. not from not wanting them, but from just never really having the interest. UNTIL travelling with the party. until staying up late with sif in their shared tent and finding out that, on his travels, he learned how to (very basically) give people tattoos. and begs him for one. its like 2am and neither of them are thinking clearly so they agree. they ‘borrow’ odiles ink pot she uses for writing, a sewing needle that isa happens to have on hand, aaaand it. goes very poorly. as youd imagine. he is lucky to have the long sleeves to cover it up. whatever design theyd been going for was absolutely not achieved. but! he cherishes the memories regardless. (incredibly, they would try this twice. the second time would be after bonnie joined the crew, who would catch them awake, beg siffrin for a tattoo of their own, be told ‘no’, but would still be allowed to watch as long as they PROMISE not to tattle to madame and mira in the morning. bonnie absolutely tattles).

mira! does not seem like a tattoo person to me. i think she would be intimidated by the idea- partially in relation to the change belief, partially because she wouldnt know what to get. i like to think tattoos are probably pretty controversial to the religion… some people think they are a very powerful form of change! something you cant take back. others disagree for the same reason, that its permanent. so pre canon no tattoos for her. but!! but! as i mentioned before with siffrin getting tattoos for his family, i think mira might consider something as well (confidence boosted by the fact that the others will be matching). other than that though, it just doesnt appeal to her much.

bonnie has no tattoos also aaand it will stay that way for. a little bit. this is something that upsets them greatly because i also like to believe that nille has PLENTY of tattoos! possibly some she even got when she was much much younger! irresponsibly, of course, and many of them are regrettable. so she steers bonnie away from making that same mistake too young (tries to encourage them to wait until they are 18 at least). maybe bambouche as a whole is a very tattoo-supportive town, which is where bonnie got their interest. this does not stop them from making little paintings up their arms and having the others help out as well, to make up for it, in a non-permanent way.

i havent actually designed what any of their tattoos would look like… thats gotta be something i sit down to think about,,, one day maybe ehe

[scara-meow-che]

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ phantom longing with childe

CW. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader, ANGST!!!, brief mentions of having underaged sex, name calling (princess, good girl), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), marking, porn with bits of plot, a bit OOC childe, infidelity

AN. this fic used to be an old kuroo prompt of mine but childe fits this idea so much, i just can't let this go to waste. anyway, enjoy this word vomit of mine :D also i'm sorry for those who found the "kuroo" errors in this bcs i legit worked on this prompt around 2AM (　；∀；)

you keep on longing for the ghost of the past—from the rotten body of a relationship.

it was on the third tick of the minute, on the fifth desperate attempt to distract yourself from the man who sits in front of you.

time had no mercy in gracing him with features deprived of stress brought upon a successful man's life. his toned arms were a delightful sight as they flexed under a red button-up rolled up on its sleeves, a habit of his that you knew like the back of your hand. the boyish ginger hair you grew to love now framed his face with its curly long ends and he is, as crazy as it seems, still godly than ever.

nothing has changed about him, even your feelings.

"f/n-chan! aren't you at least excited to see older brother?" teucer had enthusiastically nudged at your distracted form, pulling at your arms, beaming brightly as if to blind you with that smile. teucer and the rest of childe's family never had a clue how much the lil' partners-in-crime grew something more behind closed doors, especially after the years that had passed.

"yeah, aren't you glad to see me?" childe jests, eyes carefully scanning a subtle hint of vulnerability to ever dance in your features. but, even after a few seconds of admiring your cherubim beauty, he failed to grasp any information to know how he should act around you.

"f/n, i always thought you and childe are closer than tonya here," his mom added, nodding at childe who seems engaged in fishing out what was swimming inside your pretty mind. "you two often eat out at night. ah, i remember your father fuming at the poor boy!"

and they all laugh but your heart continues to ache for the visible longing only childe knew you were feeling at the moment. he noticed, of course, he is as perceptive as he can be. but what he made out of is not the melancholic pain strung upon this happenstance because he knew the attraction left lurking in your hearts.

oh, how funny it would be if they knew that the boy who took your virginity is right in front of them. well, there's no point in telling how the comforts of your room that day were painted with your salacious moans and childe's deep grunts. the blazing passion offered, love that used to enrapture whatever force binds you with one another—sadly, everything was of the past.

how hilarious it would've been if they knew how dirty you felt because a part of you still misses his body snuggly attached to the warmest parts of yours. every time your eyes would accidentally stop to stare at his, your soul is pulled toward him. it's as if you were falling over and over again.

oh, how ironic it would be that you wanted childe far away from you but at the same time, you want him to ravish you in a way you'd be left satisfied.

just like before.

he was perfect, too perfect for your liking. once you've tasted this perfection, the polished palate of desire can no longer forget how it felt pleasurable on your mouth that it left you thirsting for more.

you shouldn't be too attached but here you are, helplessly smitten just to feel him touch you once more—to kiss you, to praise you for being his good girl, anything that he used to do before. pictures, posts, and messages, it was as if you'd been deprived of every need, starved of anything about his whereabouts that you shamelessly devoured what you possibly could get from him.

despite him being the one who ended everything, you never had the guts to hate each fiber of his body. broken promises of yesterday had crumbled down with the future you longed for. the innocence of love is a double-edged sword that you have used against yourself. and now, you continue to bleed your emotions for the man who left you dying.

food had already gone cold and bitter on your tongue that used to glaze on honey-smooth skin belonging to this celestial god who had wrapped his presence on your heart.

bitter, yes, bitter. the sharp yet addicting bite of the love harbored for him still lingers in you. maybe it was because he's your first love that still occupies the majority of your own silly heart? Everything involving his being was complete bliss—a plethora of happiness you can only feel from him.

a credulous admiration can only go far if not for the risk one can take but you choose to let go of all of your morals and logic, blissfully dancing through the danger of his song.

the first kiss shared on the first peak of daylight; the first night he laid his hand on yours as a freckle of winter snow fell from the heavens; the first dreadful goodbye whispered alongside the strong waves ebbing on the harbor; he is the first of all firsts there is and how wrong were you to give him everything.

time may have passed together with all these fleeting memories but your feelings fluttered still.

the dining hall felt suffocating, the bubbling chemistry of both longing and denial clashed when your eyes stared at his alluring blue orbs. you wanted to throw up. your head was spinning so badly. you never wanted to be stuck in this dilemma. your insides twist and turn as they continue to spit your name together with his.

tonya somehow noticed how quiet you'd been for the past hour and gave you a soft squeeze on the shoulder. the small gesture had helped you snap out of the flummoxing reverie because of an orange-haired man. and it's yet another battle to avoid his overwhelming presence.

it felt long eating with them and to make matters worse in your favor, they opted to spend the remaining hour catching up on everyone's plans for the future with a cup of hot cocoa.

as the hand of the clock strikes 7, you can hear their voices gleefully bickering and leaving a melodious chatter across the hall you settled in. the vigorous movements etched on each body around you felt slow while you washed the dishes.

"can i help?"

towering behind you, a fresh scent laced with a musky undertone of his cologne coiled itself on your quivering frame. the territorial instinct he had on your submissive body left you breathless when he lay a gentle hand on your shoulder slowly moving down to your waist.

if not for the logic gradually fogged by this attraction, you would've already succumbed to his hand and let him take you right then and there. but you stood firm, not giving him a chance to slip for him to devour the flickering courage you have left in you.

it would take him more than that but the heart wants what it wants.

"as the man of the night, he should be reserved to mingle around his family and shouldn't even be here to help." your ears picked up how soft your voice was. it always was, for him. you always have a soft spot for him.

"oh? then as the special man of the night, i won't allow my guest to even do the dishes, let alone someone as important as you to the family." were you, really?

childe took his sweet time in dominating your senses, his hand moved across your lower back up to the side of your hips. his other hand also went in to dip into the curve of your chest down to your stomach. you felt him close in the distance, your back firmly pressed against his built torso.

"p-please."

you didn't know whether that was a plea for him to leave you alone or not but when he took a good whiff of air, letting a guttural groan when you buckled close to him—a stutter amidst the calm shook all the grounds you stood and it was when you lay all your cards for him to see.

childe lowered his tall frame to look over your shoulder. the view was of an innocent gesture but hides the intent of making you yield to whatever his mind was thinking. it was unfair, it was cruelly unfair how he can control you to such extent.

"use your words f/n. i taught you better than that."

he traced delicate and sensual lines on your burning skin. you choked on your breath when you saw him smiling at you, seeing how roses flushed vivaciously on your cheeks to his advances.

"use your big girl words. come on."

oh, how did your body laid enervative under his mercy?

childe was selfish, you know he can never let you go. you were practically made for him and yet he was gluttonous just to have you putty in his hands again. just like when you two were just 16, right before he left to continue his work throughout different regions across teyvat, miles, and miles away apart from the icy land of the tsaritsa, away from you.

he wasn't the ajax who you fell in love with. you can see the little details of the canvas of his soul, colors you knew that weren't yours dominated each hue you have left behind. the art which you two have made as a masterpiece was left tarnished by another one. this man behind your back, savoring miles of skin his eyes can roam to, isn't the one who used to satiate the void you felt by warming you in your bed.

the man you fell in love with is a ghost settling in this body that you crave for.

you hated yourself, more than anything there is. you were hungry, deprived of this euphoric feeling of the past, touch-starved, guilty for wanting him to be there for you even if you no longer have the right to be claimed as his.

as everyone grew tired, retreating to their rooms, why? why did you hold him back from going to his room? why did you lead him back to your chamber? why did you let him in? why did you have the heart to let him in?

to whatever gods are out there must be looking down in at you in disappointment, but you don't care. childe had trapped your body between the door that was quietly shut close. the doorknob had hit your back but you didn't care, not when he finally molds his lips on yours; not when he firmly grips your jawline as he dips his tongue to your mouth, catching up on the years he wasn't able to be with you.

the passion in every motion, the discord in every emotion—it was there. the ghost of the man you loved was still there. and this is when you'll take advantage of it, this was the only chance you can hope on and maybe, the empty promises wouldn't be left in vain.

feather-like touches littered on your skin as childe's nimble hands raised the shirt that suddenly felt too suffocating for you. you were distracted, too drunk to think of anything else while he moves in a leg right between your thighs.

next to his actions was to skim right above the skirt you regretted wearing for this night. it was too short, you noted, enough to titillate the attention you wished from him. each pad of his fingers felt addicting like everything happening right now was like the way before. like nothing had happened; like nothing had ended; like nothing had ever torn you two apart.

you saw him smirking when he felt the soft material hanging on your hips and he slid them off with ease. his eyes were focused on you when he let his body slide down along with your underwear. and he left it there, pooled on your legs as he moved back up to tease you, to make everything in you want him.

as if you didn't already.

the crippling embarrassment had invaded your mind when childe slid in his fingers to the soft skin between your thighs, looking straight into the gates of your soul. rich and smooth blue orbs were glinting in lust, never in the idea of love. and that's when he dips in and searches through the sensitive bud of skin protruding in arousal.

"you always look pretty when you want me." childe devilishly grins as the visage of you, eyes closed and left amenable, was exactly as he remembers it before.

you bit down on your lower lip, eyes closing at the immense pleasure sent by his skilled digits finally going in and out of your leaking hole. the rushed movements, ragged breathing, and vehement waves of his deep voice resonating deeply to strum painful chords on your heartstrings—god knows you missed this but you knew how wrong this was.

this was wrong, he shouldn't do this.

the frilly lace that barely covered your dripping cunt laid idly on the floor, your legs trembled when he particularly hit one spot inside. you strained down the moan bound to escape your lips while he left salacious kisses on your exposed neck.

"childe, please, more." you don't want him to stop, it was too addicting. he knew where to exactly touch you, he always fucking knew everything there is to know about you.

you can feel yourself drip down on your thighs and covering his hands with your juices. you gripped down on his lean arms to stop how fast he was thrusting in and out of you but he was enraptured to see your cunt enjoying the attention, he can't help but fuck you more.

"see? you're taking me so good, princess. you're so good at taking me. you always do." you looked down and you saw him going up to the hilt, reaching places none have managed to. you love this, you hate this. you want him to stop but you also want him to continue. why were you so conflicted when it's wrong, this is clearly wrong, the ring says it's wrong.

but no, you wanted him. years, you have longed to feel this affection for years and finally, he's in your arms. how can you let go of him?

"you're drooling badly, is this all for me? did you miss me so much?" like the empyrean life who kissed the earth with color, childe blessed your skin with blue and purple clouds. the vainglorious spirit of this towering male screams on the name he had marked on your body.

that you were always his. that you always belong to him. that no matter how much you try, in the sea full of strangers, it's always him who you look for.

but no, no, no.

it wasn't soon when he perfectly scraped the side to look for the spot that makes you mewled and moaned lasciviously on his arms. the velvety texture of your walls lovingly squeezed on his fingers; you shake in delight, quivered in happiness, trembled along with the submission to love, and shuddered in the intimate warmth he has as your home.

you can never call him home. you shouldn't call this home.

unabated thrust and rut of his slender but thick fingers fill you up, the honey you produce pours out from your lips as it flows in the harmony of your whimpers. the slick and squelching sound your cunt produces was filthy, you felt filthy but anything for him.

bleary-eyed, hands grasping whatever surface it can hold unto, legs twitching when you feel the tight coil in your core about to snap in two, you are near the peak of heaven made by childe himself. this was heaven, yes, it was always like dreaming on cloud nine with him.

he's just a ghost of the past.

you didn't listen to the whispers buzzing in your mind because all you can focus on is the way he deliciously hit on that one spongy spot that was to die for. your eyes beamed in tears, making childe glow in pride.

he's not the ajax that you knew from before.

"you look beautiful when you cum, princess. you're creaming with just my finger then what more to my cock?" he was selfish, insidiously selfish.

but why didn't you stop him when he removes each article of clothing separating his skin from yours?

why didn't you stop him from kissing you with such fervor and longing?

why didn't you stop him from connecting himself to you?

"please, please, please, make me cum." you whispered, head moving up to get him back in kissing you. your hands were held above your head, his grip was so tight you never want it to let go of you.

"yes, princess. just stay still and fuck," and you tightened around him, his expression right above you showed how it always has been. how it should've been but what was your reason for letting him do this?

it was love, a disillusioned love that kept holding back for the ghost of the past.

"let me hold you, please." you begged but what exactly did you beg for? was it to hold him to be yours again or just this physical chemistry happening between you two?

but childe understood it as the latter, letting go of your wrist and encasing your hands inside his. one was on your side and the other was what he kissed adoringly. and then you saw it, a small piece of gold tying him down. a beautiful, gold ring.

where's the other half of the ring?

"fuck, f/n. i love you, i have always loved you." and you cried, seeing the painful expression to cross his features while climaxing inside of you, the tears coming from childe that fell on your cheeks.

the last kiss he gave on your hand and on your lips. the shaking body clutching tightly on your defeated form. the sobs escaping from his lips as you pulled yourself away. you felt empty.

of course, a ghost can never fill you in.

⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content

[forabeatofadrum]

Hello everyone and happy 2025! I spent the end of 2024/beginning of 2025 finally reading some good fucking fic, so I am glad to report that this is a long post :D

There's so much fic. I mostly (mostly!) read oneshots from under 10K, and I am also happy because I have read from multiple fandoms.

I am back on my Persona bullshit after playing Persona 3 Reload: Episode Aigis - The Answer since I got it for Christmas. Gosh, this game is absolutely heartbreaking and I keep aching all over and FANFIC CONTRIBUTES TO THAT! The looming tragedy that hangs over S.E.E.S.... oh MAN.

I read what we leave behind by @sunkitty143 and I cried so hard my pillow was damp. Maybe shouldn't have read it at 2am. God, it is so good and heartbreaking, especially as a reader who knows what the fuck is going on. Thinking about the three months that Makoto got is painful and my heart aches. And then I couldn't sleep and read sunkitty's other works.

stepping up to the plate is amazingly funny from Ken's perspective. A fun day with Junpei-san indeed! But damn, Junpei... and Makoto haunting the narrative. Makoto keeps getting younger and younger in Junpei's eyes. "Because maybe Sanada could've been here, and maybe Amada will always wish that Makoto was the one here, but Junpei is the one here." BRO?

the heart of self-defense is a great exploration of Akihiko's mindset and yes it is insane how much Miki hangs over this, but it takes 8k for her name to be dropped. And then Shinji dies. MAN, Akihiko.... "I don't really like fire either" YOOOOO? God, Persona 3 keeps breaking my heart, huh? This fic has a lot of hard hitting lines and some unexpected deep Makoto lore, but MAN.

last december is the one I skimmed over, kinda, because I only have one hour in Portable, so I haven't really met Kotone yet but I was so intruiged and yeah it's good. I will probably come back to it after I finish Portable.... one day.... but we all need Yukari calling someone a liar every now and then.

I reread what we leave behind, uh, 6 times (and yes, I will leave an AO3 comment.... one day.... when I have processed it), and decided that I should also read the gift of giving by atracoes. It is definitely... happier than what we leave behind, despite it taking place in December which is DECEMBER, but again, the looming threat of what happens in March hangs over it and it makes it so painful and gorgeous to read at the same time. I love how Makoto is just there for Ken and I like reading how much effort Ken puts into everything.

I kept riding the angst train and read Botamochi and Purge by ToxicPineapple because I was down for some Akihiko angst and also, well, grief is unfortunately a thing that is apparent in my life right now and sometimes reading about other characters grieving helps in a way. It IS insane how the world doesn't end when someone you love leaves it.

Wooh. Persona 3 truly loves its theme of death, huh?

That is Persona for now. Time for some cute shit! There are festive challenges all around in December and I still haven't read all that I want to read, but I have finally gotten around to some of the Klaine Secret Santa fics.

Awards Show from @spaceorphan18 was really good and I like that Kurt and Blaine are already in a relationship. I love a good meet-cute as much as the next person, but established relationship is the shit. Kurt and Blaine need to navigate fame and their love.

Speaking of a good meet-cute, Blind(sided) Date by @cryscendo was a nice surprise, since I actually am not too fond on blind dates, but I am happy that here Kurt got around to the idea even before meeting Blaine, so that it's not all like "oh ew do I have to do this?". Elliott, you sneaky, sneaky man!

And another trope that I cannot get enough of is friends to lovers, and also "and they were roommates!", so Operation Christmas Cheer-Up by @special-bc-ur-part-of-it was super duper cute. Blaine is such a great friend and it is just neat to see how it slowly blossoms into more.

Klainers aren't the only ones giving gifts.

The summary of From the Heart by @you-remind-me-of-the-babe immediately grabbed my attention! A Secret santa in a secret Santa-esque fic? Secret Santa inception! I like how Baz is trying so damn hard, and how that makes Simon realise that there could be more than a truce.

@martsonmars wrote a cute rivalry fic called always the time of the year where Simon and Baz, who are besties, are rivals in a Christmas market. I really REALLY like the friendship here and how the rivalry plays out, especially since there was an unexpected hiccup for Simon.

And lastly, Torchwood! Last year I read a fic where Ianto and Jack sort-of-accidentally get a kid called Lowri and I liked it a lot, but I never knew that Lottiethroughthelookingglass wrote a Christmas sequel called Good Tidings to it. Rhiannon asks Ianto to come over for Christmas, which means Ianto has to explain that he suddenly has a kid and that he's raising her with another man. There was some angst to it and the threat of CoE hangs over them, but it was still sweet and I like this lil family and the supportive aunt Rhiannon.

And lastly, in non-fic world: I read 1989 by George Orwell (finally!) and a book on the mining history of the south of the Netherlands.

[anzuhan]

i was someone sending an ask saying anzu made them more comfortable as a yumejoshi and i wanna say anzu made me more comfortable as a yumedanshi too especially since i have many f/os and anzu posts art with multiple different f/os :) (also, if anzu is comfortable answering, how many f/os does anzu have?)

anzu is glad there's more of you around that anzu was able to make more comfortable within the yume space ❤️❤️

umm.. anzu is fine answering the last thing it's just that you really killed anzu with it, WW😭 long thing under cut ..

tldr just one and it's len and specifically the len drawn by anzu's kamioshi, yomorin .. anzu even got the green light from them to yume their len 😭💛

it's less so anzu has a lot of f/o-s and moreso anzu just changes them really ... ? well, it used to be more at the same time, but anzu has also had so many f/os because anzu kept looking for what felt for eternity.. for someone...! someone like len, in fact, yes, anzu is certain he's perfect 💛

a very long time ago, anzu used to love silver from pokemon a lot. like a whole lot. for 8 whole years.. but it did just die down. and ever since then, anzu has been looking for a character to love as much. a character that no matter what fandom anzu is into and whatever anzu draws, that people would still relate to anzu because theyd know anzu loves this character a lot...! it was like this with silver back then.

so essentially, anzu kept looking for so long, it felt like a grandiose adventure.. with far more downs than ups, anzu got hurt a lot and was sad from many things through it from a lot of characters...! but it's fine, anzu is fine now and better than even 💛

anzu yumes mainly just the len drawn by yomorin, well certainly they're multiple ... but anzu likes to think of them all as the same one for the ones from different song MVs for yume purposes ! ww its not like the topics at hand are all that much different between the songs, but anzu's favorites you may see more often depicted just as is and as they're drawn in original are the ones from merry sexmas and keepxout ... if we are to go by lyrics and meanings and all, keepxout and fallin down are anzu's favorites to go by for.. personality wise.. ? does this make sense . it may be a bit hard to personify vocaloids, so anzu really mostly just goes by lyrics from these songs. but yomorin also seems to keep a certain feel to their len that makes them all so smug.. anzu really likes it. the way they draw len is so perfect .. !

there may also be other len, but anzu would rather just draw them a lot alone rather than draw yume with them...! namely cyan from LKL & the magical girl len from otoko no ko circulation (designed by hekicha... hekicha closely follows anzu's acc so it makes anzu embarrassed given anzu didnt ask them about it yet..w), and a few others drawn by shiomi shijimi. there may be misc as well but itll probably stay all up in anzu's head rather than anzu again still drawing yume of it (like magical nuko len len)

well besides this, anzu also just thinks len is perfect because anzu has been preparing for literally 5 years now and still going to be an idol. as a yumejo... certainly, with a dream like this, it also makes sense that youd want to sing with your f/o right...? and well ! thats a very easy thing to do with len.. anzu can duo as many songs as anzu's heart wishes to, with len...💛 so he's everything anzu could've asked for, and more...! so much more... if anzu could choose, anzu would also love the most to have the len anzu would duet with tuned by cieloP ! they are anzu's favorite len producer when it comes to tuning... but it's a bit biased because they tuned almost every single len drawn by yomorin.. ww it really almost feels, when hearing a len tuned by them, like oh...! it's anzu's boyfriend💛.. this is his voice, yes ... <- delusional rambling at 2am