#it's a need to match mouth flaps

[silverwing013]

It's a need to match mouth flaps, which when there is more spoken in original language to the direct translation...you need to either add in some fluff words to that direct translation or get creative in adding to the source. I so love the savage snark and them being such little shits. It adds to it. And they're teenagers. It's a localized dub that really works well.

I do enjoy that this seems to be some math done on what Hiei is stated to have for height from start of story to the end of story. Four-foot-ten is in the middle of the heights he was given.

Going with my memory (it's been a while since I've looked this up and had it fresh), I believe Justin Cook watched and went through the entire show beforehand. It was like, first bigger thing after Dragon Ball and getting newer voice actors into the company and such if I remember right.

There are signs someone working on this did that and took care of the show. Like Jorge having same voice actor as the narrator for a joke that happens in show practically all the way at the end of it. Another sign to me is Hiei having the snarky insult to Kuwabara during Saint Beasts on his sword skills. 'He's just swinging his sword with the grace of a flyswatter.' It's a line that kills me. Because Kuwabara adjusts his energy for his last fight in the Dark Tournament to use it as a flyswatter to squash Elder Toguro. (How is that villain the longest running villain of the show? It feels like it shouldn't be him, but it is.)

Anyway. Back to point. Proof there was some care on handling the show rather than, translate and make it fit and toss out episode by episode. So I wouldn't be surprised if perhaps Hiei's offical listed heights were looked up to make that joke and fit to the mouth flaps.

(Okay, I went off a bit and rambled and my brain probably only remembers so well, but hell, I knew way too much stuff about this show YEARS ago back when I ran a YYH specific game show panel at a few cons. And an info filled fan panel for it with discussion questions that somehow won me the voted in best fan panel of the con weekend. But hey. Love for the show HIT at running into this post and I went rambling off. ^_^)

the YYH dub is so unbelievably disrespectful lmao. i went back and checked what this was in the japanese and all she said was something like "next up is hiei!" man wtf

[glowingsavepoint]

spoilers for orv side story ch 641 ep 17 storm in a teacup (2)

「Are you really the Kim Dokja I know?」

Maybe I wanted Kim Dokja to lie. I wanted him to still be the protagonist in this story. Smiling as usual, he'll solve this somehow. So let's see the end of the scenarios together, I was hoping he'd say that.

「If that's what you think.」

I felt nauseous. Is it because of the dizziness? Kim Dokja, who had been distinct against the snow field, seemed somehow faint.

made using picrew. i dont take credit for this art!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Anyone else hear this rumor about a Final Fantasy X Remake? I guess it's for FFX's 25th anniversary.

I don't quite know how to feel about that for a few reasons (if it is true, we'll have an FFVII Remake, probably an FFIX one, and an FFX one)?

[zae-heeyyy]

Seraphic

Summary: You are Arthur's angel. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,222 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: Whew 😅 I'm a little nervous to post this one. 🫣 Been sitting on it for a while (no pun intended) I've read and reread it a million times, and I'm ready to share. Also, we're pretending like Arthur's tent actually closes. Anyway thanks for reading!

Seraphic: something angelic or celestial in nature, often suggesting purity, beauty, or holiness.

By 1 a.m., the sounds of camp had reduced to the songs of crickets and the crackle of the fire. While everybody else slept, you waited up for Arthur, reading a book under lantern light in his tent. He arrived eventually, keeping his greeting short and joining you on his cot with slouched shoulders, seemingly exhausted. When he took his hat off, the grimace on his face became all the more apparent. His expression and tense body language told you all you needed to know; whatever happened out there wasn't good.

You handed him a match and a cigarette from his nightstand, and he thanked you with a nod. Using the heel of his boot, he struck the match and lit the cigarette, holding it with his thumb and index fingers. Flickering lantern light and the burning ember tip illuminated his bruised knuckles.

"Should I ask?" You traced a gentle finger over the bruises, and he shook his head.

"Best not," he replied, exhaling a ribbon of smoke.

"Well, I'm glad you're still in one piece," you said, looking him over. His shirt had seen cleaner, less wrinkled days, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. "Well, mostly in one piece."

He let out a gust of air, a failed attempt at a laugh, before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning.

"Headache?" you asked, and he confirmed. The discomfort came with the life he lived. Loud gunfire, the rush of adrenaline, and focusing on his shots all combined to leave him in pain afterward. You exited the tent momentarily and returned with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and a bottle of miracle tonic.

"Here—for your head." He took the medicine and snuffed his cigarette. Rejoining him, you sat on the cot and dabbed his face with the wet cloth, wiping away dirt and sweat. A soft kiss on his temple prompted him to lean into you, the tension finally dissipating. You wrapped your arms around his big frame and held him close. Obviously, he was your safe space, but oh—were you his. Eyes shut, he rested his head on your bosom.

Arthur found comfort in his typical role as protector and provider. But in these moments, when roles faded, he could feel the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders—a crushing weight he didn't even realize he was carrying. Being with you like this made him wonder if heaven was real because you were godsent.

To Arthur's dismay, you unraveled yourself from him to tie the tent flap closed, sealing the two of you away in the dark. Walking between his legs, you untied his neckerchief and dusted his soiled shirt.

"—Needs a wash. Your blood or someone else's?" you questioned, fingers undoing the top button.

"Not mine," he answered. Peeling the shirt off and tossing it aside, you studied him for a second time tonight. He'd seemed more relaxed than when he arrived, but his brow stayed brooding. Still positioned with his legs on either side of you, you caressed his face, one of your thumbs stroking the hairless scar on his chin.

"What else can I do?"

"You done enough; I'm fine." He gave your hand on his face a reassuring squeeze.

Leaning forward, you kissed him tenderly. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you nearer until your foreheads touched. You spoke low against his mouth, a playful grin forming on yours.

"You gotta stop getting yourself into so much trouble, Arthur Morgan."

Your demand was met with a chuckle, and he replied, "I'll do my best, darlin'." You peppered his lips with loving, tender kisses, making him smile against them and squeeze you tighter in a hug. You would do just about anything to see that man smile at you the way he did, all soft and endearing.

Your kisses subsided, but Arthur's affectionate gaze stayed fixed on you. The slight smile on his face had straightened, his expression mirroring the intensity of the one he wore when he first confessed his love for you.

"Got that look on your face," you told him, and he just blinked slowly, awestruck. Though he often swore he was a man of few words, he could fill volumes with his devotion for you. You loved it when he got like that, entranced and overwhelmed with love.

The way he watched you set a fire within you that warmed the most intimate parts of your being. He was surprised when you let yourself fall heavily into him, trying to get as close as possible. Maybe he was going to say something or make a noise, but he didn't have the time before your mouth was on his again, your tongue pushing through his lips to tangle with his. You only pulled away when you needed to breathe.

Instead of pressing your lips to his once more, you dropped to your knees in front of him. Eyes widening, he tried to bring you back up to your feet, shaking his head, once again astounded by you.

"Sweetheart—"

Still on your knees, you patted his cheek and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Shhh, let me take care of you, Arthur." His hand found yours on his face, and he turned to kiss it, nodding placidly. Both of you managed to keep your volume low as you helped him strip down to his union suit. You began working at the buttons of his neckline, doing more ripping than unbuttoning, shoving the fabric down his shoulders.

As more clothing fell away, you trailed sweet kisses down his abdomen. At the same time, his hands roamed wherever they could. The rough pads of his fingers lightly tracing your skin mirrored a faint electric charge. Despite being a brute of an outlaw, he was overly careful with his hands when it came to you; your body was fine china and deserved to be treated as such. Goosebumps formed in a wake left by his touch.

As you kissed down the trail of hair under his belly button, his rapid breathing hitched, and the bulge between his legs strained against the flannel fabric, begging to be unleashed. You tried to find his eyes as you groped him through the underwear, but his head was tipped back, his mouth agape.

"Look at me." You whispered, and he snapped to attention like a soldier following commands. Eyes locked on his, you unclasped the last button, and his length sprung free, the pink head of his cock primed with anticipation. A teasing laugh crept up within you as you trailed soft kisses from the base of his shaft and left one long lingering peck on the tip. The loud, rhythmic thumping of his heart was music to your ears. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you took his entire length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper until your nose touched the curly hairs at the base.

Then he couldn't hold it in anymore; a deep, guttural groan escaped him.

Your mouth was the warmest, most intoxicating blanket he'd ever been wrapped in, and he never wanted to leave. He gaped at you, seeing your mouth full of him, his pupils dilated with pure lust. The blunt tip of his cock pressed to the back of your throat, making it constrict around him. His whole body shuddered.

"Look whatchu' do to me, woman," he rattled, tangling his hands in your hair. Despite his eagerness, you withdrew from his aching sex, a string of saliva joining your lips to him. Something reminiscent of a whine exited him when you stepped away, but his open mouth fell shut at the sight of your bloomers slipping down your legs. You kissed him, savoring the salty, bitter taste of his arousal mixed with the tobacco and herbs of his mouth.

"Lay back," you murmured in his ear. Obeying your command once again, he let out a grunt as he felt your weight on top of him. You straddled him, and he held you up, his fingers digging firmly into your sides. Bending at the waist, you kissed longingly, your hips undulating against his. He pulled your nightgown up around your midriff, one of his hands gripping the flesh of your ass while the other one went between your legs. His index finger sank painstakingly into your weeping cunt, then brushed over your clit, making you shiver. He raised himself on his elbows, reaching for the hem of your sleep dress.

"Take this off; let me see you." You raised your arms and let him yank the garment away, leaving you completely exposed on top of him. "Beautiful," he breathed, using the back of his hand to graze your skin. Breathy sighs escaped you as he traced delicate circles around your nipples. His eyes bored into you, absorbing every detail like you were the most captivating thing that ever lived. Hyperfocused on your body, he fondled your breasts before gliding his hands down your torso, ogling, taking all of you in.

Freezing, his stare intensified as you massaged the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. Touching his lips to yours, you pushed him into your wet folds. Neither of you could contain the sounds building with you. He split you open, stretching you, making room for him, filling you. You held yourself up with your hands braced on his chest, but you went weak as he bottomed out within you, brushing against that deep, tender spot. You would've fallen if he wasn't there to hold you up, a thought mirroring one he had about you so often.

"I got you," he whispered into your ear. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to snap his hips up into you, the warm embrace of your center clearing his mind and driving him mad all the same. Finally, you started to ride, surging and sinking into him. He was a simple, agnostic man, but being with you like this made him believe in all the theocracy of angels, soulmates, and divine intervention. This was his bliss. This was his heaven, and you were his seraph. He'd go through hell every day if it meant coming home to this—to you. Hypnotized in the rhythm of you, a new thought crossed his mind every time you bounced.

Up.

She's so goddamn beautiful.

Down.

So perfect.

Up.

My girl.

Down.

My girl, my girl, my girl, my girl.

Up.

My angel.

Down.

I love her so much.

Up.

So wet.

Down

So warm.

Up.

So danm tight.

Down.

Shit.

And before you could come back up again, he squeezed his eyes shut, halting your hips with all the strength he could muster, fighting the damn-near irresistible urge to cum inside of you. Sweat had built up on his brow, and his stomach rose and fell quickly with each panting breath. You folded to kiss him, your hard nipples grazing against his chest.

"It's okay," you whispered, patting his face and grinding antagonizingly slow against him. You wanted him—needed him— to come undone for you. With that goal in mind, you picked up the pace and rolled your hips relentlessly, moaning your every thought into his ear.

"You feel so good inside of me."

"I need you."

"I love you."

Your climax was building fast, and you reached to give relief to that sensitive bundle of nerves atop your center. Arthur pushed your hand away swiftly, replacing it with his own. Always a giver, he'd do anything to feel useful while you were treating him like royalty.

While one hand worked your clit, his other gripped the meat of your hip, rocking you in time with his upward thrusts. His head tipped and hit the pillow, and you could feel his thighs tensing and shaking beneath you. Lips parted, he stared up at you. You felt him twitch inside you, and his brow finally relaxed.

That did it for you.

You were wordless as your orgasm ripped through you, your head swirling, and your veins on fire. Arthur's guiding hand on your hip didn't stop, and he fucked you through your climax. Hugging your body close and nuzzling his face into your neck, he growled as he painted your inner core with his own release. You stayed like that, glued to each other as you came down from your highs.

"You're too good for me," he finally said. You clasped a hand into his, kissing the long-forgotten bruises on his knuckles.

"Shut up." You responded, and he didn't say another self-deprecating word. It was the least he could do.

You cleaned up and redressed, nestling into the small, one-man cot. Finally settled for the night, you resorted to your regular bedtime positions: your head on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you, your legs tangled in one another's.

He rose before you in the morning, perching himself on the cot's edge while you slept behind him. He wrote in his journal, his thumb leaving a smudge on the page:

"For a long time, I believed I could not live a bad life and expect good things to happen to me. Yet somehow, this woman of pure goodness entered my life, and it is clear now that I have been a fool."

[ddejavvu]

grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽

"He doesn't like hats."

You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.

Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.

"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."

Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.

"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."

You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.

His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.

Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.

"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.

"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."

As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.

Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.

"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.

"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"

"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.

"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

⟢ james potter x reader (who is skilled at gift wrapping) ⟢ you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings? lmk if i missed anything

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The crisp rustle of wrapping paper tears through the air as you unravel a sheet long enough for a rather larger box. 

You and your husband, decked in matching holiday pajamas, are sitting on the dark hardwood floor of your bedroom. Surrounding you are various presents that you’re working tirelessly to wrap late this Christmas Eve. 

“Why do we do this every year? Scratch that— why do I let you convince me to do this every year?” you suddenly ask when you get a glimpse of the clock on your nightstand. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks on an exhale of airy laughter. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum as you measure out how much paper you’ll need. “Just trying to figure out how I let myself marry a chronic procrastinator. And how I let him be such a bad influence on me.”

James falters, dropping the flaps of snowflake-decorated paper he was about to tape down. 

“A chronic procrastinator? A bad influence!?”

You press your lips together to hold back a smile. “Keep wrapping. It’s almost three in the morning,” you say as your scissors satisfyingly glide through the wrapping paper. 

“No,” James protests, pushing the gift away from him and crossing his arms petulantly. “Not until we address your little comment.”

“See, you’re procrastinating right now by trying to start a debate about whether or not you have a problem,” you tease, your lips involuntarily turning up at the corners.

“It sounds like you want to finish the wrapping by yourself,” he jokes, but you both know he’d never leave you hanging. 

“Oh, come on,” you laugh. “If we had it my way the presents would have been wrapped ages ago. They would’ve been wrapped the moment we brought them home.”

“Why would we wrap one present at a time when we could wait and wrap them all at once?” 

“Only a chronic procrastinator would ask why we should get ahead on our tasks.”

James knows you’ve got him there, so all he can do is huff. “Stop saying procrastinate it doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“Alright, slacker,” you say through a grin.

James rolls his eyes dramatically as he repositions himself from sitting up to lying on his side. “I’m not a slacker,” he says, propping his head up on his elbow, “I just want to be efficient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as James denies his tendency for putting off his tasks as he gets comfortable in front of a half-wrapped present. 

“Yeah, real efficient,” you say as you carefully fold the paper at the corners, creating perfect trapezoids on the sides of the box, which you tape down with a small square of sellotape. 

He takes notice of the look you gave him, and provides an excuse. “I’m just taking a break.” 

“This is the definition of slacking, by the way. C’mon we’re going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s only 3 a.m.,” James says as if it’s barely midnight. Regardless, he pushes himself back into a seated position and finishes taping down the paper over the box that holds a new toy truck for you son.

“Last Christmas the kids were jumping in our beds by seven,” you say, very matter-of-factly. 

“If they’re awake that early I’ll corral them to the kitchen and make a big breakfast with them to give you an extra hour,” he promises as he reaches for a new roll of wrapping paper— a dark green one with cartoon reindeers printed all over.

“You need sleep too.”

James shrugs. “Well, it was my fault we procrastinated wrapping these anyway.”

“Oh? So you admit it now?”

“What can I say? Is it so bad that after we put the kids down and I was all alone with my beautiful wife I’d rather cuddle or catch up on our shows or… other things.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Other things?” you snort. 

“Yeah. Wanna do them right now?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“James!” you scold him as a blush heats your face. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll focus.” He reaches for the slowly dwindling pile of presents and picks one that looks easy to wrap. You both prefer to leave the more complicated ones to you, as you always seem to have some unique way to wrap the strangest shapes. 

“Not that one!” you stop him. “That one’s from Santa, you have to use the shiny red paper and the golden bows.” 

“What? I picked this one,” he says, turning over the box of a new doll for your daughter. “I don’t want to give Santa all the credit!” James pouts. 

“And you’ll get it. In about ten years, give or take, when we tell them it was all a lie in the name of Christmas spirit.” 

James laughs and takes a look at the clock that reads 3:16 a.m. Santa can have this one, James decides. Even if he did continue to protest, you would probably convince him in the end. 

For the next twenty minutes, you two get lost in the rhythm of wrapping. With James handling the simple boxes, and you expertly finishing the oddly shaped ones, folding the paper in ways that obscure the gift’s silhouette while adding an elegant touch. 

You know your kids won’t give the wrapping a second thought, and it will all end up torn into bits on the floor, but you just love the way they all look under the tree. So perfectly arranged and beautifully wrapped, it makes Christmas feel all the more special.

As you straighten out a bow made from hand curled ribbons on the top of a dollhouse, pre-assembled for play tomorrow morning, James hisses and drops the paper he’s working with. You look up at him as he brings his finger up to his lips.

“Ow, ow!” 

“Y’alright?” you ask. 

“I’ve been injured! Wounded! No one told me how hazardous gift wrapping would be!” he wails dramatically, cradling his right hand with his left. 

You laugh at the sight of him, gathering that he has probably gotten a paper cut. Shuffling over to him on your knees, you outstretch your hand. “Let me see.”

He puts his hand in yours and you turn it over to inspect his pointer finger. It takes you half a minute to find the small slice in the top layer of skin. It’s nearly impossible to see, and you’re sure the pain has subsided now. Still, you bring his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss over the small cut. 

“Better?” you mumble against his skin. 

“Almost. I think I have another injury right here.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes to find him tapping his lips, puckered and awaiting a kiss. 

You shake your head at his antics but oblige him anyway and connect your lips in a gentle kiss. James’ right hand snakes out of your grip so he can wrap it around your waist to hold you into the kiss for a little longer. 

“Come on,” you say as you begin to pull away, “we only have a few more presents between us and those fresh homemade cookies laying out for Santa.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' DANCE WITH ME? ,,

|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warning: hurt/comfort, good ending chat trust

|| word count: 1.1k

|| happy new years guys 🩵

You and Keigo had been married for a year. You knew exactly what you signed up for the moment you started dating, he was very clear about how his job was.. Well, busy. And how it kept HIM busy. You understood this and welcomed it, honestly you liked the alone time you got. There had been times you two have fought about this, but only once or twice. Despite fighting less, your worry grew the more attached you got with Keigo. The more you fell for Keigo.

Today was.. Harsh. You woke up alone in bed, per usual, the place you go to for your coffee was closed because of a villain attack on it, and you were late to work. Because of, guess what! A villain. Your boss was on your ass about, you forget half of what he yelled at you about, it was fine, all of that was small cracks in a glass cup that was overflowing with water. What thr final blow was?

Youe beloved husband, Keigo.

You had planned a date together. You'd been planning this date for a week or so. The SECOND you clocked out of work you rushed home and put on your best clothes! Matching it with a bag Keigo had bought you and of course, your wedding band.

By this time it had been 7:00 PM. Your date was for 8:00 PM! Alright, Keigo had an hour to get ready if he got here.. Soon.

But, as you watched the minutes go by, constantly checking for a call, a text!.. Keigo was no where to be seen. Once it turned 8:20 PM, it had been to late, your reservation was too late and you couldn't go. And honestly? You didn't wanna go out anymore. You just sat on the couch, scrolling on your phone, still in your date night outfit as you heard familiar flapping on the balcony.

Keigo! 20 minutes late, to arriving TO the resturaunt.

"Babe, I'm so sorry-"

You put a hand up as you stood up and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Your brows furrowed as you looked him up and down. You looked over him, he seemed a bit disheveled, some scratches but nothing too bad.

"You're late, Kei"

He stood there, his lips pressed in a thin line as he looked at you. He didn't have anything to say. His wings ruffled behind him as the blone man let out a tired sigh.

"I'm sorry, love. I promise I tried to leave patrol early, but the commission called me in for a meeting right after patrol ended. It was a whole debrief and-"

Keigo was rambling again. He often did this when you were upset with him, or if he was upset at himself. Your gaze softened as you listened to him. He had a harsh day too. Did it excuse his actions? No, not at all, you're his beloved spouse. He should've been there. He knows it.

Which is why it shocked him when you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him.

".. You'll have to make it up to me."

You said softly. This could've been the BEST time to make a teerible innuendo, but instead Keigo let out a shakey breath and hid his face into the crook of your neck. Giving a small nod to your comment.

"I'll make dinner, I'll- I'll make whatever you want, or order in whatever you want,"

You shook your head with a small laugh. You pulled away from him and took out your phone. He watched in confusion as you tapped your fingers against the screen... What the hell were you doing? He got even more confused as when you started playing a song.. THE song. The song that played at your wedding.

You slowly placed your phone on the coffee table as you slowly walked back to him.

"You stood me up. I'm upset at you,"

That stung his heart, but he understood. He stood there, listening to you talk.

"You'll need to make it up to me," Keigo nodded. ".. So. To make it up to me by a little,"

You extended your hand out. The moonlight coming out from the glass and hitting your skin just right. Keigo looked you up and down, in awe of how.. Gorgeous his spouse was.

"Dance with me?"

Keigo's breath hitched as those words left your mouth.. He took a few steps close to you and placed his hand into yours, moving around to get into dancing position. Just like your wedding.

The two of you danced to the music, nothing but the music and your steps filling in the silence. As if none of you dared to even breathe. But it was okay.. If you closed your eyes it could be like your wedding day all over again. The most stressful, the most tear filled, and the best day of both of your lives. It was exactly like you had imagined.

Once the song ended Keigo leaned into you, hiding his face on your shoulder. His wingd drooping down as he held you close.

"I'm so sorry, my love."

"I know."

You stroked his hair softly as he just held you close. He knew you had every right to be upset. He knew he could've done better, this had happened before. Keigo felt terrible. You had been so patient with him, so good to him. He didn't feel like he deserved it, but you always assured he did.

"I'm so sorry,"

He repeated himself as you held him close. God, you hated hearing him this.. Sad.

"I've been terrible.. I'm sorry.. I've been a bad husband to you."

You pulled his face away from your shoulder and stroked his cheek with your thumb. A small smile on your face as you looked over his features.

"At least you're self-aware"

You had a small smirk on your face as you said that. Ah, teasing.

"I try to be."

He let out a small chuckle as he gently pushed his lips against yours. That night, you assured him he wasn't a bad husband, that he wasn't a bad anything. He needed your reassurance a lot, and no matter how upset you were with him, you'd lend it. Afterall, he was always there for you, it was the least you could do.

Of course, Keigo still made it up to you, taking you on an extravagant date and pampering you at anytime. Hell, he didn't even let you brush your teeth by yourself. He was such a dork, but you loved him.

And god, does he love you.

|| God, this is lowkey rlly badly written but yk

[lewisvinga]

happiness is a butterfly | zhou guanyu x fem! reader

summary; y/n learns that happiness is a butterfly all thanks to guanyu

warnings; mentions of depression, anxiety, mental health centers

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

word count; 900

note; testing how the small font looks w written fics !

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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5 years ago

“I’m never having kids. Nope.” An 18-year-old Y/n said to Y/b/f as she scrunched up her nose. “It’s too much of a burden and I have enough of that on my mind.”

Y/b/f sighed, knowing full well about the burden on Y/n mind. They’ve been childhood best friends and it was fascinating to see Y/n turn from a bubbly girl to someone who struggles so much to get out of bed.

“Well, you never know. Maybe you’ll meet someone special?”

Y/n let out a mix of a laugh and scoff at Y/b/f’s words. She picked at her chipped nails as a smile appeared on her lips. “Yeah, right. Sure.”

It wasn’t until 5 months later when Y/n was finally out in the city after spending a few months in a mental health center. She was strolling the city streets, a small smile on her face as the spring sun warmed her skin.

She noticed a deep blue butterfly fluttering in front of her, seemingly leading her down the sidewalk. She was so distracted by the butterfly that she didn’t realize a man walking right towards her.

Suddenly, the two collided. Before Y/n could even brace for impact and the possibility of hitting the ground, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist. “Are you okay?”

She glanced up and was met with one of the most beautiful brown eyes she’d ever seen. She opens her mouth for a split second but immediately closes it when she realizes the butterfly she was previously watching is fluttering around them. His voice interrupted her thoughts when he repeated the question, slowly removing his hands from her.

“Yes, yes! Sorry.” Y/n said in a panic, her face heating up from the situation. She awkwardly laughed as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I was just distracted by that butterfly. It was all my fault really.” She responded and gestured towards the blue butterfly that was flapping away.

His eyes followed hers and he caught a glimpse of the butterfly. “Understandable, it’s quite beautiful.” He chuckled before glancing back at her, “Much like yourself.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. Actually, giggle. A sound she hadn’t heard come from her for months. She couldn’t believe that a random man she bumped into somehow made her feel 10 times better than she felt just the week prior.

She stuck her hand out with a smile, “I’m Y/n.”

He happily shakes her hand and his lips curled into a smile, “Guanyu.”

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present day

“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own with her?”

“I’m her father, Y/n. We’ll be fine!” Guanyu exclaims with a smile, holding an 8-month-old baby girl in his arms. “You need a rest day and what better way to rest than to have a girl's day with Y/b/f?”

Y/n let out a sigh of relief before gently squishing her daughter's cheek. Her straight black hair was in a little ponytail that stuck straight up with a butterfly clip to match her name, Hudie, the word for butterfly in Chinese.

It was only fitting since the only reason why Y/n and Guanyu met was because she was so distracted by a butterfly. When the pair found out they were having a girl, there were no other name options.

She sighs, grabbing her daughter from her husband's arm to tightly hug her. Despite Hudie being 8 months old, Y/n still hadn’t spent time without her and the thought of not being around her daughter made her anxious.

Guanyu noticed her worry and chuckled as he gently rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll send you pictures later if that helps with your anxiety.” He offered. He smiled when he saw her quickly nod before handing back her daughter to him.

“Y/b/f’s waiting, I should go,” Y/n said before leaning forward and sharing a kiss with Guanyu. “Have a fun day with our little butterfly.” She reached over to poke her daughter's belly before grabbing her bag

“And you have a fun and relaxing day with Y/b/f, okay, love?” He called out, watching her put her shoes on at the entrance of the door.

“I’ll be back soon! I love you!”

“We love you!”

When Y/b/f saw Y/n finally exit her home, she wore a smile on her face. She knew exactly why it took her so long to leave.

“I’m never having kids.” Y/b/f said in a mocking tone as her best friend entered her car.

Y/n scoffs and playfully rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up!”

“5 years ago, you would’ve laughed if I told you that you were hesitant to leave your daughter and husband to hang out with me.”

She playfully rolls her eyes again in response, tuning her friend out as she watches her pull out of the driveway. Y/b/f was right though. She never would’ve imagined her life to be like how it was.

Y/n never would’ve imagined that she’d marry the cute guy she bumped into. She never would’ve imagined that years later, she was happy and no longer struggling with depression. She never would’ve imagined that she would have a carbon copy of her husband and enjoy the sound of her laughter.

None of it could have been possible without Guanyu, who turned her dark gloomy days into sunshine-filled and joyful from the moment she met him due to being distracted from the blue butterfly. He showed her what happiness truly was. He showed her that happiness is a butterfly.

[julessworldd]

Hey babes! I finally got an idea that was too good to not waste. @valeskafics gave the inspo for this amazing thing 🫶🏻 love you wifey! Also @foxyanon for the tag

Warnings: cucking, age gap (reader is 19, Robb is 19, Jaime is in his 30s) pussy eating, fingering(F), oral(m and f), squirting, hair pulling, p in v, doggy, mentions of face fucking. Spanking, dubcon at first! , dom!robb 🥵 Mentions of beheading, war/battle, cussing. Theon being early season prev Theon(you’ll see) I probably messed a couple timeline things up. I’m not totally up to speed up to westerlands’ house: I didn’t want a westerling reader so house Swyft

I don’t own characters or rights of Game of Thrones, all credits for G.R.R and HBO. Enjoy besties 🫶🏻🫶🏻

A Lannister bride was today’s Targaryen marriage. The Lannisters were powerful and wealthy people. Even better if it was Lord Tywin’s son, Jaime. Tywin’s power bent the rule of a Kingsguard not taking a wife. Owning lands, fathering children. For that Swyft lord’s daughter Y/n it was a dream come true. She remembers seeing Jaime at a tourney at the rock. He was 17 and she was merely a preteen. But she was dead set on marrying the lion.

Y/n’s wish had came true, she married Jaime Lannister, former Kingsguard, son of the mighty Tywin. She loved life at the rock, gold, nice dresses. Better yet custom dresses that the fabric came from the Narrow Sea. A handsome lord husband, who loved to make her scream until his name was the only thing she knew. Jaime had ruined her for other men, especially since he was well blessed below in the belt. And knew how to pleasure her before his own needs.

After the death of King Robert, the realm had 4 kings who thought they were the true king. One was a Stark, the late Lord Eddard Stark’s son, Robb. He was around Y/n’s age, she was merely 19 after this spring. King Joffrey declared war on all the kings, Robb was moving south. He was apparently near the trident, that was close enough for her husband to pick up and head to battle. After a king screaming match, Y/n was with her husband. She made a promise to stay out of the way and let him ride to battle. Jaime was gone as he went after the Stark army, Y/n stayed like always.

Y/n was reading a book when the tent flap moved and revealed a Stark bannermen. Y/n’s chest tightened as she locked eyes with the bannermen. She tried reaching for the blade Jaime had given her. But she was thrown over the bearded man’s shoulder. Soon enough Y/n was carried to the Stark’s camp, she seen her husband. He was dirty, dirt had hidden his golden hair. He was tied up and had a chain around his neck. Her heart broke for her husband, he was so good at battle how did he get captured? Especially by someone who is three years younger his wife.

“Your Grace, I got Ser Jaime’s wife. What should I do with her?” The bannermen asked as he held her arm

“Leave her in my tent, she’ll forget about her lion after she has me in her cunt” Theon smirked as he checked her out

“Theon, she’s a lady no matter whose house she married in. Set her up a tent near mine” Robb said “Leave her with me”

The bannermen let go of her arm, Jaime was so pissed he didn’t say anything as he was dragged away. He thinking of ways to kill the foul mouthed Greyjoy. How dare he talk to his darling like that.

“What’s a lady doing in her husband’s war camp?” Robb asked

Y/n rolled her eyes “Whats a Stark doing riding south? Don’t you remember what happened to your grandfather, uncle and recently your father. King Joffery surely knows what he’s doing to do to you”

“Mouthy little thing” Robb smirked

“Fuck you” Y/n said, she had to restrain herself from spitting on him.

***************************

It had been a few days since she had seen Jaime, she missed him. Missed his voice, his scent, how his hands felt on her waist. Everytime someone brought her food she begged to see Jaime. They ignored her. Theon asked what’s so good about the lion. She told him his cock and how he stretched her. Theon rolled his eyes and left.

A direwolf walked in her tent, she crawled to the corner of her cot. She had her knees to her chest

“Good wolf. Yeah, you. Go on I don’t have anything” she said trying not to sound scared.

“Greywind” Robb snapped his fingers and made the wolf sit the entrance.

“King in North” Y/n rolled her eyes

“Lady Lannister” Robb smirked

“I want to see my husband, please” Y/n sighed

“I’ll let you see him but on one condition, love” Robb said sitting on the cot by her feet

“What’s that? My family rides for Lannisters not Stark men” Y/n told the auburn haired king

“I want my way with you, but I want him to watch” Robb said rubbing Y/n’s foot

“Him who?” She asked

Rob was surprised she asked who instead of being offended and declaring her cunt for her Jaime only.

“Your husband, of course. I need answers and he hasn’t gave any so far. Seeing you beg for my cock will surely get to him crack” Robb said

“No! I’d rather you kill me than you fuck me” Y/n gasped

“I seen a Swyft flag this morning, a man looked like you. Is that your brother?” Robb asked

“Ryan, he’s my older brother. One of my father’s heir” Y/n said

“If you don’t let me do what I want, I’ll kill him and I’ll have you watch” Robb said

“Fine fine. Have him brought here, I don’t want the other prisoners seeing me like that or your men. Please” Y/n pleaded

“Well we think a lot a like, lady. Theon, bring the kingslayer in” Robb yelled over his shoulder

“Your Grace” Theon said before winking at Y/n before leaving

Y/n seen Jaime and got off the cot. She took in his appearance, he was practically buried in dirt. He had scruff, he looked exhausted. Old worn clothes, his hands chained behind his back. Y/n hugged him, Jaime leaned his head on her shoulder.

“My poor lion” Y/n muttered as she kissed his forehead as she stood on her tip toes

“Just let him do this twisted thing. Once I get out of here, it will be behind us, my sweet girl” Jaime whispered

Y/n looked at him but shook her yes. She led Jaime to a chair by the cot. Robb was still on her cot as he smirked. He patted his thigh, Y/n cringed as she looked over at Jaime. Jaime nodded his head signaling her to do what Robb wanted her to do.

Y/n climbed on Robb’s lap, the wolf wrapped his arms around her as he turned her to face him only. Her back towards Jaime, Robb squeezed her ass. He yanked her down by her hair and kissed her. Y/n had tears down her cheeks as she kissed him back.

Suddenly Robb had her dress off and pushed her on her back. Robb had her naked as he forced his shoulders between her thighs as he dipped his head to her cunt. Y/n whined as she felt Robb’s hot tongue tracing her hole. It had been a week since she had been touched. Jaime fucked her four times or more a week, he fucked her hard the morning he left the Lannister camp. Robb was eating her like a mad man, he rubbed her clit in tight circles with his finger.

She moaned as she grinded her pussy on his face as he licked her clit down to her asshole. Robb moaned, feeling her sweet cunt on him. Her stomach tightened as she came, her thighs wrapped around Robb’s head. Her hands clenched his auburn curls. Jaime was half hard from Y/n’s whines and seeing cum ooze out of her as Robb raised up.

Robb smirked as he turned his head towards Jaime. He gently raised Y/n up to his chest before stripping down. Y/n’s eyes flickered to Jaime, Jaime gave her a reassuring smile. Robb gently grabbed her jaw to kiss her, this time she clutched her fingers in his hair. Robb had snuck his fingers down to her hole, one finger rubbed the outside. He plunged his two fingers into her weeping cunt. Y/n moaned against his lips.

After making her cum again, Robb released his fingers. Licking them off, he flipped Y/n to her stomach. She was facing Jaime as Robb grabbed her hips. Bringing her ass up, he gave her soft cheeks a couple snacks. Y/n wanted to turn around and slap his face. That was one thing Jaime never did even do for teasing. His punishment was usually face fucking her and throat training her despite her whins. Oddly enough Y/n liked it when Robb slapped her ass, she felt herself clenched around nothing.

“I’ll show you why your father should have sent you to Winterfell instead of that ugly rock” Robb teased her clit

Y/n bit her lip to hide how she was enjoying this. Being fucked by another man while her beloved watched. Jaime however was slowly losing his cool. Y/n was his wife, her pussy was his nobody else’s, her body was something for him to cherish and push her boundaries of pleasure.

Robb finally entered Y/n and he was bigger and thicker than Jaime. Y/n moaned it had been a bit too long to not be filled. She missed cockwarming Jaime, but Robb found new areas to touch. Felt like he was going to rip her into two. Robb slammed his hips against her ass repeatedly, her moans were so sweet. Her cunt was tight, warm and kept him snug, Robb loved. He thought it was worth killing Jaime and having Tywin Lannister kill him for it. Your cunt was sweet but maybe not worth his sisters and family being killed.

Y/n moaned as Robb grabbed her by her long hair making her look back at him. Her eyes meeting his Tully blue eyes, a couple whins falling out of her plump lips. Robb stuck two of his fingers in her mouth. The same ones that fucked her cunt in front of her husband moments ago. She could faintly taste herself on his fingers. She swirled her tongue around his dights, Robb smirked.

“Guess Kingslayer did good, training you. The perfect lady wife, gorgeous body with a sweet cunt” Robb rammed into her

She wanted to knock his stupid teeth out for calling Jaime that. She was the only one who knew why Jaime did it. She agreed with him, sometimes betraying someone will help innocent people live another day. But that was soon forgotten as she came around Robb’s cock. Except he didn’t stop his thrusts until she squirted. He let go of her hair and she fell into the cot, she silently moaned as she came down from her hair.

Damn maybe her father should have sent her North cause Jaime never made her do that. Jaime! It hit her, he was there and witnessed the whole thing. She looked up as Jaime was fuming , his fits were clenched as his chest heaved. Robb chuckled as he seen the kingslayer’s reaction

“Theon! Take Ser Jaime back to his cell” Robb called his friend.

Theon walked in, Y/n saw his hard cock in his pants. Theon grabbed Jaime’s arm as he walked out of her tent.

Robb stood up getting dressed

Y/n watched as Theon was across camp

“You never asked him anything”

“I was going to but the gods blessed you with the best cunt the realm has had. Forgive me for being distracted, my lady” Robb smirked as groped her breast.

“He’s never made me do that” Y/n smirked

“That’s a shame, my lady” Robb said

Y/n crawled off the bed as she stopped in front of Robb. Running her hands down his thighs “Can I tell you thank you?”

“At once” Robb snapped his fingers like he did at Greywind

“Not a dog”

“No, but you did let the wolf have his way with you. After all you are a lions wife, maybe” Robb smirked

Y/n looked up at him and cocked her eyebrows. Robb had a point, a very valid one. How could she ever lay with Jaime without feeling guilty about this night. Of course if Robb released Jaime and her.

[enbyfvcker]

[Bj Handles]

Wade × Logan(worst!wolverine)

Word count: 0,8k

Summary/prompt: Wade uses Logan's mask as blowjob handles, that's it.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, biting, blood, oral sex, face-fucking, praise kink.

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(The line "What's the wind resistance on those blowjob handles" still lives rent-free in my mind.)

Logan is really attached to his suit. (Ironically, since he used to hate it when Scott begged him to wear one). And now that he wore it often, he was getting more and more proud to wear it. He used to hide it in his universe, wearing it under layers of clothes like the sentimental fuck he pretends not to be.

But now he uses it all the time when he and Wade work together. And well, the merc has a point in wearing red because he was constantly having to wash blood out of the garment. Working with Wade usually gets way more bloody than when he worked with the X-men.

After they come back from a fight, Logan gets way more needy than he usually is, the adrenaline in his veins fueling him on. Wade figured out quickly that Logan's sex drive is high as fuck, but oh, he couldn't complain in the slightest. They matched each other's lust every time.

They had just come back to the apartment, and Logan already had Wade against the wall of his room, kissing him hungrily. They still were in their suits and masks, with Wade's pulled up half the way. Logan pulls away to bite marks that disappeared quickly into the merc's neck.

"Eager, are we?" Wade teases with a grin. "Do you go through heat, peanut? Cause, damn if you're like this normally, then-"

"Shut up." Logan grunts, moving his hand down to squeeze Wade's hard bulge.

"You didn't answer my question- Ow! Fuck..." Wade whines when Logan bites particularly hard, the taste of copper in his mouth only fueling his animalistic desires. "You savage... Harder, please~"

Logan obliges, sinking his teeth deep into Wade's throat, tearing through tissue. He licks at the bloodied skin before it could heal. His breathing was heavy with pure need, and he practically growls against Wade's neck. He gets on his knees in front of the merc and starts to take off his mask, but Wade stops him.

"Wait- Keep it on."

"Seriously?" Logan grunts.

"Fuck, yeah." Wade nods, looking down at him with a smirk. "Please?"

Logan gives an annoyed sigh.

"Fine. But take yours off. Wanna see your face." Logan orders, working at Wade's zipper and pulling out his cock.

"Yes, sir!" The merc takes off his masks and toss it away, his head hitting back against the wall and his mouth opening in a silent moan when he feels Logan's lips wrapped around him. He looks down to see him bobbing his head on him, with his yellow mask on and looking up at Wade.

"God, this was in my bucket list." Wade gasps with a smile and grips on the flaps of Logan's mask, using them as handles, guiding his mouth over his length at a faster pace.

Logan's hands holds the merc's thighs and he groans against Wade's cock. The vibrations send a wave of pleasure through Wade, moans escaping his lips as he doesn't take his eyes off the sight before him.

"You look so pretty... so good, peanut- Fuck..." He praises between moans, making Logan's cock leak pre-cum in the confines of his suit. He couldn't help but buck his hips into nothing, desperate for friction. He looks up at Wade, and the pleasured expression there brings him an urge of satisfaction and need.

"Out of a fucking wet dream..." The merc guides him faster, using the grip on his mask to fuck into his mouth at a steady rhythm. "Can you take more of me, baby girl?" Wade asks between groans, looking down at Logan, and he tries his best to nod at his current position.

Wade grins and thrusts deeper while gripping the flaps tighter, letting out a loud whimper when his tip meets the back of Logan's throat.

"Fuck! Good fucking boy... So good for me." Logan moans at Wade's words, gagging against his cock as the merck fucks his throat roughly, the grip on his mask unrelenting. His hips rut desperately, and he could feel himself getting close just by watching Wade use his mouth.

"Shit- Gonna cum. Will you be good and swallow for me, kitten?" Wade teases, thrusting into his throat faster, his rhythm getting sloppy. "Gonna fill you belly, baby, fuck-" Wade groans loudly and Logan feels his throbbing inside his mouth before the merc spills his cum into his throat. He holds his mask tightly and presses Logan down until his lips meet his crotch, giving shallow thrusts until he's sure he swallowed every drop.

Panting, Wade pulls out of Logan's mouth, watching with a smirk as a string of saliva connects Logan's lips to his tip.

"You did so good, peanut." Wade praises again, removing Logan's mask to look into his eyes. "So so good." He pulls him up until they're kissing passionately, the taste of himself in Logan's tongue driving him crazy.

"You deserve a treat, kitty." He grins before pushing Logan softly into the bed, and he grunts with a smirk as his back hits the mattress, Wade hoovering above him.

[shares-a-vest]

Happy MET Gala Day. I wrote some tags on THIS post and instantly got brainworms. cw: In this ficlet, Eddie calls Steve a slut but it is said with affection.

"Steve!" Eddie screams over his shoulder into the next room. But his voice only echoes around him, bouncing off the pristine white walls of the hotel room ensuite that he thinks is as big as his uncle's old trailer, "The car is gonna be here any minute!"

Silence.

He smoothes his hands down his lapel one last time and smiles at his reflection before he turns on his heel and rushes into the hotel suite where he finds Steve right where he left him, in a make-up chair getting all dolled up by Chrissy with Robin by his side.

She is asleep in a bedazzled bathrobe and honestly, Eddie would prefer to join her. Not only is attending the MET Gala an expensive evening (Eddie loathes to think how much money Steve has spent in the lead-up to all this), but it all involves being gawked at and judged and repeatedly asked the same three questions by the press who are just going to make him come off like a real asshole anyway.

"Just getting glam done," Steve says, grimacing as Robin gives a grunting snore.

"Stop eating those flowers, Erica..." she mumbles, dipping her head and nuzzling into the plushy warmth of her collar.

Chrissy rolls her eyes and steps back to examine her handiwork.

Whatever that is, Eddie can't really tell. Steve looks just like his regular pretty self with maybe a spot of shimmering blush. He opens his eyes, fluttering his lashes and – well yeah, whatever Chrissy did makes his eyes pop more than usual.

But those eyes quickly grow dark, shadowed by a frown when Steve gives Eddie a once over.

"Is that your outfit?" he accuses.

Eddie nods and does a little twirl only to spin back around to the sight of Steve pursing his lips.

So much for pleasantly surprising each other with their outfits – the only thing that had Eddie giving this whole deal an ounce of his attention.

"Well it isn't on theme," he continues, shrugging with a nonchalance that would give Anna Wintour herself a run for her money.

"What are you talking about?" Eddie defends, "I'm wearing lace!"

He flaps his jacket to reveal a sheer black lace shirt before lifting his touser legs enough to show off his matching socks.

Steve pinches his nose.

"Eddie, that is a bare minimum!"

Eddie flails his hand in the direction of Steve's barely-there shirt, a sheer number that shows all of his chest hair.

"Excuse me for not dressing like a total slut."

He blushes as Steve stands up to reveal a similarly sheer pair of pants (if you could call them that). Underneath is nothing short of a goddamn codpiece that Eddie is certain won't cover his boyfriend's whole ass and –

Robin snorts again, causing Chrissy to giggle.

She nudges her partner and Robin startles awake, almost tipping back in her makeup chair and Eddie realises that 'doing glam' has taken so goddamn long, all because Buckley decided she needed the world's biggest feathery eyelashes.

"Boring!" she says, taking one bleary-eyed look (if she can see through those bird wings, that is) at Eddie's outfit.

She blows a raspberry for good measure.

Steve turns, chuckling and yep – that is at least half of his ass hanging out in some sort of lace-assless-chaps-codpiece situation that has no business being anywhere but on their marital bed – or a paid-for hotel equivalent.

Maybe they should just stay right here, Eddie thinks as he looks, his mouth agape as he ogles the sight before him.

"Calm down, Eddie," Chrissy warns with a wicked grin.

"Well, it's far too late now for us to do anything about it," Steve pouts, throwing on a floral-embroidered vest that at least covers a shred of his modesty, "I told you to come see my stylist."

"What about my brooch!" Eddie shrieks, pointing to the diamond-encrusted rose pin just above his breast pocket, "It's crystal."

[letterstotheflre]

❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜ w daryl 🥺🥺

i think this one turned out v v cute 🫶🏻 daryl might be a little ooc but then again i think it resembles the way he is w carol soo i don’t really care lol || set when daryl returns to the communities, before the snow storm episode of s9. ofc, sunshine!reader x grumpy!daryl <3

"absolutely not," daryl snarks resoloutely, sliding the strap of his crossbow over his plain black poncho.

"you're gonna get cold, daryl," you worry, following him around your shared room in alexandria as he packs his bag. he shoves his gun, a pack of bullets, an extra knife and some granola bars you made yourself inside it, closing the flap with a little more force than necessary.

you know you're being a worry wart. you know it's not even remotely cold enough for him to require any more winter accessories, but you can't stop thinking about how cold he must've been all those months alone in his camp.

"i ain't wearing matching pink hat 'n gloves, woman," he scoffs, looping his bag around his shoulders. "'sides, it's not even winter yet. quit yer worryin'."

"it's windy! your ears are gonna get cold!" you exclaim. "and there wasn't any other wool, s'not like i did it on purpose!"

you did do it on purpose. but he doesn't need to know that. (he does).

"pup," he sighs, "a little wind ain't gonna kill me. might even be good for me-- fresh air and all tha'. i don't need those."

you pout a little, open your eyes wide and pinck your eyebrows with your head tilted slightly forward. daryl narrows his gaze and points a finger accusingly, "don't do tha'."

"do what?" you ask innocently, batting your lashes.

he scowls. "y'know what."

you intensify your stare, pouting even more and even pressing your hands together in prayer, hat and gloves between your palms. "please?"

his firm glare relaxes ever so slightly before he seems to think better of it. "puppy dog eyes aren't gonna work this time, sunshine."

"i just want you to be safe and warm, daryl," you say sweetly, completely undettered. "please? for me?"

it's a tense standoff, you in your yellow pijamas and daryl in his usual all black ensemble. you know you've won when his shoulders finally drop and he heaves an exhausted sigh. "fine, gimme them."

you squeal and skip over to him, placing the hat over his head and fixing his long hair so it doesn't cover his eyes. you hand him the gloves. "y'can put these away in your bag just because they might make driving a little difficult. but you put 'em on whenever you're on foot, you hear me?" you say sternly.

daryl rolls his eyes but nods anyway, which makes it good enough for you. then you're back to cooing at him, framing his face with your hands and peppering sweet kisses all over his cheeks and nose. "oh, you look so pretty" this and "i wish i had a camera" that.

"okay, okay," he says, escaping your grabby hands. "i gotta go now. you be good, okay? and make sure dog doesn't bring 'nother walker foot."

"yes, sir!" you salute him, then quickly give him one last kiss on his chapped lips before he opens the basement door. "be safe. love you!"

"love ya," he echoes, closing the door behind him.

—

daryl pretends he can't feel the funny looks the rest of the alexandrian's are giving him as they pass him by.

he's waiting by the gates for carol. sees her rounding the corner and prepares himself for whatever she might say to him.

she freezes in place when she finally notices him, a few feet away from where his standing. when she finally seems to realise that her eyes are not lying to her, she approaches him slowly, doing him the favour of covering her mouth to not make her amusement obvious. it doesn't work very well because he can still hear a couple giggles.

"not a word," he growls, swinging his leg over his bike.

"whatever you say, barbie," she laughs, patting his shoulder.

[purrpletiger]

FRESH DRAWING GUIDE:

Hello everybody, I've come to give you all this absurd reference guide for drawing Fresh. yep. I decided to spend hours slapping this together.

If I got anything wrong or should add anything PLEEEASE lemme know! All ideas welcome!

If you want to see my "research" on this character, let me know in the replies, because there's so much to talk about with him and I'd love to do a character analysis or two, I couldn't put much about his personality or source posts in this because it's just a drawing guide!

Link to all the full images

Transcript and close-ups of the text on the image: (May be in a strange order)

Fresh was created by @loverofpiggies (CQ)

Main Outfit:

YOLO sunglasses

Backwards propeller cap

Pink Polo shirt

Crayola Jacket

Gold Tooth

SWAG fannypack

Convertible Zip-off pants

White Heelie shoes

Pink socks

He has thick eyebrows to emote! (The eyebrows are usually depicted with black hair but one human design has eyebrows that match the pink hair color!)

The bag says SWAG on it

His glasses say YOLO by default, but the letters can magically change mid-scene...

this design for Fresh is Tall, we dunno how tall but taller than CQ's Sans characters (or just Geno since he's literally sans undertale with some added steps). But his height is just his host's height sooo it can vary.

those (cyan and yellow) shoe details are on the innerside but not outerside

HE HAS HEELIES!

Pink glove cuffs!

his skateboard is inconsistent dont worry about it

Glasses Off:

The host's soul shows up in their left eyesocket

- The soul tends to look unstable (cracks & a sortve stroboscopic effect.. i couldn't think of a better word.) but not in some cases...

It doesn't have to be a white upside-down heart, that's just a reference to an undertale monster soul.

He has a purple substance full of little RADs that emanate from his eyesockets (when his sunglasses are off)

"The soul in Fresh's eyes CAN be cracked. That soul isn't his. it belongs to his host. And.... after a while.... things go bad for the host, and he needs a new one." -CQ

(example of soul with unstable effect with no cracks) (example of soul with cracks but lacking the effect)

The purple aura(?) can glow and emanate from the eyes when his glasses are on too

i miss this one design specifically. the colors and the SK8 OR B SK8 shirt were peak

I miss the SWAG necklace...

Fresh leaves a rainbow cloud of smoke when he "poofs". Either teleporting him and his host body somewhere or leaving his host behind.

Human Designs:

Fresh can possess humans too.

They all look physically different because they're different people that he's possessing.

Fresh can possess pretty much any body, but I thought I'd show the varied examples of humans anyway

Don't forget the orange jacket flaps! or his hat propeller!

I dunno what's up with the multicolor tongue thing. I think it was extra parasites in the host's mouth? I feel like it was scrapped at some point... but I could be wrong

FURBIES!:

Oh yeah, he also does this: (no image for the bat tho)

"I mean when he fights he pulls Furbies out of his magical fanny pack. takes out a wiffle bat. and hits the furby at his enemies.

And then the furby explodes in a blaze of glory." -CQ

Despite using some furbies as explosives, he seems to 'care' about and treat these two like precious babies:

This one is potentially named McFreshby The Fresh Furbrah (Fresh is mentioned to have one named that, and this is the only other furby he's been depicted with)

It can also do THIS: (roll its eyes back into a spookier look)

This is DJ FurBs. that's all i know about him

The REAL Parasite:

Fresh is actually this little parasite controlling a host body. (if you didn't know that why are you reading this post rn!?! but nah I love new Fresh fans, welcome!)

The main parasite is this purple one with the eyemouth and four(?) tendrils, the other colored tentacles are prrrobably Fresh's offspring (freshmageddon moment?) (I'm not actually sure, I'm just pretty sure they're not part of the main parasite but are parasite tentacles)

You can also see Fresh's five or more purple tendrils here stretching out all over his host's body

All art from CrayonQueen/@loverofpiggies

Reference guide made by PurrpleParrasite/@purrpletiger

pls suggest changes or additions if u have ideas!

That's all!

[bunnie-online]

── ⋆⋅lucifer nsfw alphabet⋅⋆ ──

warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI fem!reader, somnophilia mention, daddy kink mention, general horniness☝🏽😔

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

~♡• Luci's favorite form of aftercare is 100% physical affection, he'd wrap you in his arms and stroke your hair until you both fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

~♡• for him? his back/wings. he knows they're impressive and it feeds his ego to watch the reaction he gets when he unfurls them. for you? he's and ass man, no ifs, ands or butts (haha pls laugh) about it

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

~♡• he cums sooo hard, i'm talking shaking, eyes rolling back, wings flapping, etc. one time he came so hard that he accidently broke skin from biting you. (you liked it)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

~♡• he'll never tell anyone but his long time partner but he's really into somnophillia, like receiving. he wants you to use him while he's sleeping, he'd love to wake up to his cock in your mouth.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

~♡• very much so, he kinda went on a broken hearted whore spree after him and Lilith broke up, something about filling a void left by a loved one by filling up someone else or whatever.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

~♡• doggy or reverse cowgirl, he's an ass man! any position that gets him a full view of your ass, he's down

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

~♡• c'mon, are we talking about the ducky man?! he's goofy for sure but if you're deep in a kinky scene or you need some soft lovin' he'll be serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

~♡• he's trimmed for sure, and yeah... the same gorgeous golden locks travel south, if ya catch my drift ;)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

~♡• he tries to be as light hearted as possible but if you're having a romantic romp, he's gonna be praising you with every thrust. stroking your cheek or your hair. just overall being so loving and attentive

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

~♡• if you two aren't living together, he's jacking off at least 3 times a week. he has a high drive but nothing compares to burying his cock inside you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

~♡• oh he has a ridiculous Daddy kink, argue with the wall lmao, he also loves some BDSM, and choking

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

~♡• at home, specifically the bedroom, that's the only thing that isn't outta the blue when fucking him, he likes to stick to the classics there

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

~♡• sitting on his lap, running your hands through his hair, oh and calling him Daddy is a sure fire way to let him know you need railed asap

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

~♡• he might have a Daddy kink but he doesn't fuck with ageplay

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

~♡• he definitely prefers giving and oh boy does he show it, he has you coming undone in three minuets flat most of the time. but he will happily lay back and let you suck him off, he loves seeing that pretty little face of yours full of his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

~♡• honestly, it depends on the day, mostly he has rough thrusts will medium pace

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

~♡• eh not often, when he has you he wants to savor you. he's got to be desperate to cum to have a quickie

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

~♡• he's down to try almost anything once, he does have his limits though

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

~♡• he maxes out at 4 rounds, around 15-20 minuets for the first two rounds and 10 for the last two

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

~♡• he loves toys, the more the merrier. he loves to push you to the limit when he fucks you. he'll be pounding into you while holding a vibrator to your most sensitive parts, making you cum over and over again

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

~♡• oh he's a tease but he can't handle being teased. he'll tease you to tears but if you try to get him back he'd give up almost immediately

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

~♡• ooof my favorite question, he's loud. he moans and groans and whines. he's the type of man that moans "I'm gonna cum... oh.. oh fuck.. I'm cumming" or he'll just repeat "I'm cumming.. I'm cumming..!" when he's releasing inside of you. he does it in such a delectably whiny voice, he almost sounds pathetic... it's so sexy. (hi im bunnie and i have a wicked voice kink)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

~♡• he's a hair puller, he loves grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking on it as hard has he can. he loves seeing your eyes instantly roll to the back of your skull.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

~♡• 7in length, 1.5 in girth and curves slightly upward

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

~♡• he's a pretty horny being, on a scale from 1-10 hes an 8.5

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

~♡• he tries his hardest to make sure you fall asleep before he does, he wants to provide proper aftercare, especially after those super long sessions. but there have been one or two times he's fallen asleep before you, which he goofily and thoroughly apologized for the next morning

~~~~~~~~~~

i've never done one of these before! that was sooo fun!

~bunnie

[javiersprincess]

tags: 18+ minors dni, / fingering / tit sucking / dirty talk /begging / spit / dacryphilia / fem reader /

john didn’t expect it to go this far.

he thought you would be in his tent, and talk to each other like you do every other night. when you sit in his lap, legs hanging of the edge of his cot with your boots off by the edge of the tent, just enough in sight to let others know you are in here. he can catch the movement of your stocking clad feet as they bounce idly through his story of his most recent adventure. john does not notice how your eyes, prettily framed by soft lashes stay focused on his lips until you say his name so sweetly.

“john? m’ sorry, but can i kiss you?” you ask gently, a hand on the lapel of his shirt as he blinks at you. you can catch a bit of pink on his cheeks and he laughs raspy and rickety at your request.

“you don’t need to ask darling - you know that.” john says grinning in the soft light that you can still get from the fireplace. you press a small one by the corner of his lip first.

“i like asking.” you mumble before pressing a proper kiss to his lips. something in his spine dances a light at the brush of your lips against his - a dangerous sweetness that clouds his mind with a fog that he more than happy to let consume him. it's hard to keep track of what happens next, his mind filled with the gentle brushes of his tongue against yours.

somehow the blouse you wear, the pretty cream-brown one that makes more than most turn their heads to look your way is unbuttoned along with your chemise. your chest is exposed and john isn’t a good enough of a man to keep his hands to himself. your breasts fit well into his hands, his fingers tweaking at your nipples and squeezing hard enough to make you whine into his mouth.

you moan his name and beg, looking at him with pretty glassy eyes and push yourself higher on his lap - the way you hike your own skirts up as if to invite him in makes him chuckle in between your lips.

“want my fingers, my darlin’? that why you’re begging for me?” there’s a wickedness to him when he asks that - a wild hunger that you think the wolves imparted onto him up in the frost covered mountains. you whimper, oh so prettily, looking at him with biggest set of pleading eyes he’s ever seen as you beg for him breathlessly.

“please, please john - can i please have your fingers?” it tastes sweet on his tongue, your earnest eagerness and how you do not hide your desperation from him. john let’s it settle in his mouth and digs his teeth in to not let it go. his hand, so large and scared makes it up the smooth cotton of your stockings and he expects to touch the matching cotton of your bloomers only to be met with the heated silk of your skin.

john hisses, teeth bared at you as he realizes you have forgone bloomers long before you settled in his tent with the desire for him.

“dirty little thing. took em’ off for me already?” you whine, and nod letting your hands come to wrap his wrist to anchor yourself from the lust that wants to bubble over and out of you.

“y-yes, wanted to make it easy for you.”

john doesn’t think he’s had his hands up a girl’s skirt this fast before.

you are wet, sticky and soft for his finger tips as you let out sweet little noises when his index brushes over the bud of your clit. he nips at your lip when you yelp a little too loud when his manages to get his finger inside you. you whimper his name when he curls it inside you, gasping when he manages to slip another next to it. john fucks you relentlessly with his fingers like that, curling and spreading them with his thumb keeping at your flushed clit. all the while you are gasping his name, nails digging and clawing at the pale skin of his wrist as you press yourself closer to john’s sturdy form.

his dark eyes are focused in how the soft inside of your thighs glisten with your wanting in the scant light that bleeds in from the part of tent flap that’s still open. movement catches john’s eyes from where they were pinned - he watches at how one hand goes to play with one of your breasts. each time you pinch or pull at your sensitive nipples you whine a little higher or clench a little tighter and it’s to no one’s surprise that john can’t himself but to bend his head faster than you ever seen him move to take one nipple in his mouth.

your hand that was busy with that pursuit of pleasure flies to your mouth in order to silence the deafening squeal at how good it feels to have john lick and suck at your breast. it’s too much and just want you need - the harshness at how his fingers milk your cunt and the way his mouth sucks at your tight, sensitive nipple,

you cum without warning and only manage to whine out john’s name from behind your hand with a defeated squeal.

“john - john, please, i came -“ you whimper eyes glimmering with tears sweetened by your pleasure as you try to push his head away. john obeys, like the obedient dog he is for you and you alone. it makes you blush, makes your cunt flitter around his fingers that are still inside you at how a string of spit follows his mouth only to break and drip down the hard peak of your nipple from john’s ministrations.

he tilts his head up to kiss your proper, deeply as if you are the deer and he the wolf. you don’t even realize that you’ve been pushed back on the cot until you open your blurry eyes - rimmed with red to look up at john. you are so pretty, if john was a lesser man he’d weep above you at how you look at him with the widest, most trusting gaze in the world to see you like this.

spread out and wanting for him, and him alone.

“gonna give you a sec okay? wanna pleasure my girl real good tonight.” he mutters to you, voice rough like a wolf’s growl in the night. it makes your heart race and you make a noise of embarrassed wanting. you tilt your head up to look at him, hair fanning your face in a way that john could only describe at artful.

“anything you want john.” you mumble, voice soft and tongue loose from cumming once and it makes john grin from above.

“that pretty mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble,” scarred hands have your skirts to your stomach and john moans at the sight of your stockings and garter covered thighs. your cunt is exposed and strands of cum stick to the mound of your cunt in a way that makes him shudder.

“you’re in for a long night, be good and quiet for me, yeah?” you nod, so sweetly, so obediently john is quick to reward you with returning his fingers to your cunt and his mouth to your breasts.

[billieonmars]

Carl Grimes x Gn!reader

Baby cuddles

Notes: This one was inspired by my baby nephew who is the sweetest baby in the whole world. I was rocking him to sleep and I just needed to write about babies cute little quirks :) also I know the gif doesn't match the ages of Carl and Judith in the fic, I just couldn't find one of young Carl and baby Judith.

Summary: New baby Judith has just entered the world and Carl's significant other takes it upon themselves to care for her.

Warnings: Talk about death of kids (not Judith), kissing, crying

The moment little ass kicker came into the world she was screaming and fighting. Her face red, gummy mouth wide, and fists clenched tight as if she would punch the first person she saw. Carl hadn't thought anything of her when she sucked in her first breath. He dotted over Lori while Maggie held the baby close. It was his mom; he had to do it.

Y/N wasn't there, thank God. Carl wasn't sure how he would deal with Y/N watching him kill his own mother. It was bad enough that they knew he did it, let alone watching him do it.

However, Y/N was there to take the baby from Carl's arms and into their own. She was small, too small. Despite them giving Lori more food than the rest, Y/N had a feeling it was pretty much impossible to keep the both of them fed properly.

Y/N was also there when they named her. Judith; old fashioned but comforting in a time where it's needed. The name made sense, Judith was the place most would head to when times got rough. Y/N especially took to the baby, often caring for her when everyone else was busy. Even though Beth tried to help out, Y/N would push her away and reassure her that they knew what they were doing.

And they did. The only person who knew about Y/N's family was Carl. They didn't open up to Carl about it until he asked; it was confusing how someone his age was already so good with babies. Y/N told him of their younger siblings. A sister and a baby brother, both of which Y/N helped take care of when their sick mother struggled to. They were only young when they changed their first diaper and made their first bottle of formula. It broke Carl's heart when they told him what inevitably happened to the young kids in the apocalypse.

Because of this, when Rick was off, succumbing to his own delusions, Y/N was the one flapping around the baby like a little hen. Carl helped as much as he could but he could never figure out why she was crying. Y/N, however, spoke the language of babies and knew instantly what she needed. Carl asked them how one time. He knew Y/N had siblings they cared for, but they seemed to have a parents sense that was only gained from deep experience.

"It's easy if you spend all day with her. You can see her face scrunch differently when she's hungry. And when she's sleepy she'll rub her eyes." Carl felt a little guilty that Y/N had spent enough time with her to notice the signs. He felt bad for not being closer to his own baby sister. So from that moment he decided he'll spend more time with the two.

The next day he was up and walking to Y/N's cell early. He knew Judith woke earlier than anyone and wanted to see if he could offer any help to Y/N. After all, he wouldn't want to be dealing with a fussy baby all by himself in the morning.

Judith sat in Y/N's arms as they leaned back against the cold wall. A bottle was stuck between her lips as she sucked and sucked. Judith always drank as if she was being starved. Sometimes when formula was low, Judith had to take it easy on the bottles and it ended up with a very upset baby for the day. No one could blame her; she was so small and unknowing of the horrible world around her. Y/N had already made it a promise to themselves to find her a home safe from the walking dead.

"Hey, you need any help?" Y/N was startled as they hadn't seen Carl come in. They jumped and baby Judith grunted. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay. It's just-" they sighed, "Judith kept me up all night. She refused to go to sleep." Only then did Carl notice the dark rings around Y/N's eyes.

"Why didn't you ask me for help? Or Beth, or my dad? We can help, you don't need to take care of her all on your own." Carl moved closer and laid his hand on top of Y/N's head, combing the hair between his fingers. Y/N leaned into it, closing their eyes.

"Rick is still off his rocker, and I'm going to be honest; you and Beth aren't that great with babies." Sure Beth was gentle and soothing, but she wasn't fully equipped to handle a baby.

"I know I'm not that great with babies, but I can still help. She is my sister, after all."

"Okay, grab a diaper and a pack of wipes. She needs to be changed." By the time he had gotten the supplies, Judith had finished her bottle and was squirming uncomfortably in Y/N's arms.

Eventually, the diaper was changed and Judith was given a stuffed animal to play with. Carl went between playing with Judith and staring at Y/N. He couldn't help but admire them. It wasn't just their appearance that had drawn him in (although that was pretty nice), it was everything about them. They were selfless, kind, and had a beautiful connection with Judith. Y/N was always worrying about others before themselves, so Carl knew he was going to be the one to worry about them.

On their next run out of the prison, consisting of just Glenn and Daryl, Carl had asked for a few things. He noticed how Y/N's socks had holes, and how they only had a thin blanket for the cold nights. And most of all he noticed how Y/N had no hobbies or anything for entertainment. Despite their lack of electricity, some coloring pages or a puzzle could keep one entertained for a while.

After giving them a list of things for Y/N, he went back to their cell. Y/N and Judith sat on the bed asleep. Judith's face was pressed into Y/N's chest and her hands gripped their shirt tightly. In this moment Carl wished he had a camera, one of the polaroid ones that would print a little picture for him to carry around in his back pocket.

He carefully shifted them closer to the wall and slipped into the bed next to them. He wrapped his arm around Y/N's shoulders and held them close. Their relationship was complicated. They never expressed wanting to date or even be together in any way. However, cuddles and pecks were always present whenever they were alone. No words were spoken as they did these things because none needed to be said.

Y/N slowly opened their eyes, looking at Carl sleepily. Their foreheads met as they looked into one another's eyes. After a while, Y/N shut their eyes and leaned their head on Carl's shoulder.

"Hey." Y/N's voice was quiet and raspy, showing the sleep that had yet to ware off. "what are you doing here?" Carl took a deep breath of their hair.

"Glenn and Daryl left for the run. I had nothing else to do so I came to visit you and Judith." Y/N opened their eyes and nuzzled their nose into Carl's cheek. It was a habit they picked up a few weeks ago, it started when they had to be quiet as they slept close to walkers. It was a silent way for them to ask for a kiss. So Carl obliged, turning his head and pressing his lips to Y/N's. It was soft and perfect, like all their kisses were. They breathed each other in, not wanting to separate.

Their kissing stopped when they heard noises coming from Judith. Y/N quickly looked and prayed that she wasn't waking up; she got very grumpy if her nap was cut short. Thankfully, her eyes remained shut but she was more awake than she was before. Y/N could tell because she started lightly playing with his shirt, moving the fabric in between her small fingers. The action was reminiscent of the way she soothed herself to sleep with her stuffed rabbit. She played with their shirt in the same way she played with the rabbit's ears.

Y/N couldn't help but coo at the noises she made while she sucked away at her pacifier. Judith had a tendency to sigh and awe when she was content, which she was, asleep on Y/N's chest. She wasn't old enough to begin babbling yet, only being born a few weeks ago. However, the scrunched face she made when she was mad combined with her little noises, made it seem as if she was ready to burst out full sentences at any moment.

Judith made a noise again, this time one of struggling. She grunted as she tried to move herself closer to Y/N but failed because she hasn't yet learned to control her own body. Y/N helped her out, switching her from their chest to their arms as if they were feeding her a bottle. Judith accepted the new position and fell back into a deep sleep.

Before either of them realized it, tears were falling down Y/N's face. They couldn't help it as their body was wracked with sobs. Y/N tried to stop it as they didn't want to wake the sleeping baby. But the sobs were too harsh, shaking their whole body. Carl leaned over instantly to take Judith from their arms. He carefully placed the sleeping girl in her pack n' play and returned to Y/N.

"It's okay, come here." Y/N allowed themselves to be brought into Carl's lap and to snuggle into his chest. They breathed him in again, not knowing when this could end. Y/N was a mess of emotions; they missed their siblings and mom. The young kids, barely making it to toddlerhood, were gone. They were terrorized by dreams of their dead, reanimated bodies jerking and crawling on the floor. How could something so innocent be brought to this? They could still smell the flesh, the rotten, innocent flesh of babies.

Y/N hated it. They hated the memories, they hated the flashbacks, the nightmares, and most of all they hated how Judith was a reminder. She was a reminder of what they couldn't do; protect the babies. If they had only been there an hour earlier, if only they ran faster, if only... if only they did anything.

"I hate it, Carl. I can't stand it anymore." Sobs had turned to sniffles by the time they spoke. The tears were no longer falling as they had dried up. "Their faces haunt me." Carl shushed them and kissed their forehead.

"I know. It'll never leave you, the smell, the sight, the sounds. But we can push through. We will not die like this. We'll die when we're good and ready; all old and wrinkly."

Y/N tearily smiled at his words. Carl wasn't the best at comforting people but he knew just what to say when it came to Y/N.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words: 1875

This one is shorter than I usually like to write but I didn't know how to keep it going.