#it's like 2am and no one will see this but. it's almost too cringe for me like!!! goofy!!!

[cherubchoirs]

late night notes on lucifer....

(note transcript under the cut)

(hair) hair turned white in his fall (eyes) eyes perpetually bloodshot, although he has always just been weeping (fur) fur creates a reddened, painful rash (rope) bell rope, once tied the keys to heaven around his waist (mask) heavily based on medieval depictions of demons (charms) charms once showed the heavenly virtues, now decorated with the deadly sins (rosary) rosary that binds him; he has broken its head off (sash) reads "there is no redemption in hell" (from memling's earthly vanity and divine salvation) (banner) sunset palette

[wolftoken]

homecoming • vessel x reader

a/n: this was refreshing after writing non stop smut for two weeks lol. although im tempted to write a part two with some welcome home sex 🌝

word count: 1114 • tags: gn reader, fluff, cuddling, making out, reader and vessel are dramatic and desperate for each other

• masterlist •

No matter how hard you tried to stay awake, it’s pointless. The lights are dim and the fireplace has fizzled out but the burnt wood and coal still emits a gentle warmth into the room. Blankets are strewn around the couch cushions and of course you have one of Vessel’s huge hoodies on. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, as he’s been away so long, but it still brings you comfort that’s almost as good as when he’ll be here with you.

He said he’d be home late, so you put away his portion of dinner in the fridge in case he came back hungry. You put on his favourite scent and his favourite underwear, knowing that he’d be just as needy as you. But all that is no good now that you’re fast asleep on the couch, clinging onto his hoodie and holding a pillow tight to your chest.

You don’t wake up when the door clicks open and Vessel steps inside. His bag is dumped on the ground before he sees your sleeping form, cringing at the thought of the sound disturbing your sleep. But you don’t stir, and the smile on his face grows wider as he takes it all in. He’s home, you’re right there, looking adorable as ever. He texted you earlier not to wait up for him but he knew you would anyway. But it’s almost 2am and he was barely awake enough to make his way back to the apartment himself.

Shedding his coat and shoes, they join his back on the floor and he makes his way over to you as quietly as he can. It’s difficult not to bound over and scoop you up in his arms but he doesn’t want to startle you, especially at this time of night. He kneels down on floor to get a better look at your face, reaching a hand out to brush your hair out of your eyes.

“Fuck, missed you so much,” he whispers, his gaze soft and his grin so wide his cheeks hurt. Sitting up slightly, he carefully snakes his arms around your body and pulls you to him. Glancing at your face, he sees you’re still far away in dreamland so he lifts you up and makes his way to the bedroom.

He notices how nicely you’ve made the bed up and his heart warms when he thinks about you preparing for his arrival. He’s noticed that scent you’re wearing and has indulged himself with inhaling deep breaths of it while you’re held so close to him.

Climbing into bed, he lays you down to rest your head on his chest. He pulls your arm to rest around his waist and your leg to wrap around his hips. This is what he missed the most, just holding you, getting to feel you and smell you and look at you. He wants to stay awake all night and feel your warmth seep into his skin and but his eyelids are impossibly heavy now that he’s in his own bed. He only hopes he can wake up early enough to stare at you for longer.

•••

Your pillow feels a lot bigger and warmer than you remember. It’s also breathing and it’s got its arms wrapped tightly around you and you realise your pillow is the boyfriend you’d be trying to stay awake to greet last night. It’s as if every molecule of sleep left inside of you evaporates and you fling yourself over to straddle him.

He’s awoken by the sudden movement and his immediate smile is infectious. There’s no time to shake away the cobwebs of sleep as both of you reach for each other, searching for anywhere to grab and hold on to like your lives depend on it. His hands find their way to your waist to pull you down to him, while yours cup his cheeks and stroke over his skin. You hear him giggle and the sweet melodic sound brings tears to your eyes. It’s been so long. Too long since you’ve felt him touch you, since you’ve heard him laugh or kissed him.

Fuck, you need to kiss him now. You need to feel his lips slide against yours and his tongue push into your mouth as desperately as you did months ago before he had to leave. It’s clear he has the same idea because when you push yourself off his chest he sits up and captures your face in his hands and hurriedly presses his lips to yours.

He moans as soon as your lips collide. You can feel how much he’s been longing for this moment just by the way he touches you. It’s like his hands can’t decide where to go as he dances them up and down all over your body. They’re on your hips, squeezing appreciatively, then sliding under your (his) hoodie to ghost his fingers over your ribcage and under your chest. His lips only leave yours to take in short breaths every so often, not wanting to break away from you until he’s light headed and delirious.

No words need to be spoken to convey what pent up feelings both of you share. You can feel his excitement in the way he shakes ever so slightly underneath you, his desperate longing in the way he quietly whimpers into your mouth. Vessel never thought he could love someone so much until he met you. His entire soul has dedicated itself to yours and he would never have it any other way. He never wants to let you go, evident by the way he whines sadly when you pull away from his face. You’re both out of breath and you have to push him back down to lay on the mattress so he doesn’t start kissing you again. You laugh gently at the pout he’s sporting.

“Hey handsome,” you whisper. He blushes. He’s just made out with you like every cell in his body with burn up without your touch and he’s blushing because you called him handsome.

“Hi gorgeous,” he replies. Your face heats up. Okay, maybe he’s not all that silly for blushing when he heard your voice after so long. It’s not like you’d ever forget his voice, but to hear it in real life and not in your head or over a phone call is like finding the most replenishing oasis after months of sulking through a desert all alone. To hear his laugh again is like being sat by a roaring fire after being caught in a blizzard. All of your senses are full of him and him alone, and you never want to leave him arms again.

[coltrainbat]

Ari is divorced and moving out of the house to an apartment where he meets a happy married, reader with big breasts. Her husband is out of town one day, she and ari have intense sexual one night stand

Neighbours

A/N: I'm baaaaccckkkkk and as always I have something to say ☺️ I am in love with Ari Levinson. Great request but I have to ponder... If reader is “happily married” then why would she cheat? I feel like her being married adds absolutely nothing to the plot, so we are gonna change it to obsessed ex because like… mi no comprehend how happy = cheating. Also, I feel cheating can be triggering for some.

I also think I forgot how to write so please give feedback on this one, like why are some bits in past tense??? Idk I'm insecure validate me 🥺

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, oral (f receiving, m receiving), dirty talk, sex, orgasm, P in v, Daddy kink (naturally), hair pulling, spit, shitty exes, swearing.

You sat in your apartment, comfy on the couch and freshly single. While most people would see this as a great time to spend their Friday nights going to clubs, seeking for a new dick to get under – you found it the perfect time to bask in the freedom of having uninterrupted you time. That was until a knock at the door caught you off guard.

You sprung up with a groan, tip toeing to look through the peephole and find out who had the audacity to knock on your door at 10:30 on a Friday night.

“Brian” You muttered under your breath in a disdained tone.

Brian. Your whiny, dickish, loser ex. Who despite not having any concrete plans for life besides his regular Friday night strip club visit still thought you could prove yourself to be more “wife material’. By that he meant, on top of making dinner, picking him up at 2am from said strip club visits so he didn’t have to spend money on a Taxi. Safe to say, dumping him didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.

You pulled open the door, standing in your almost too small pyjama set. “Can I help you?”

“I think you can.” He gave you a sick smirk, closing the space between you by moving his hands towards your waist.

“Don’t fucking touch me Brian. We aren’t together.” Slapping his hand away.

“Don’t be a bitch, everyone hooks up with their ex.”

“Well, I don’t want so can you please leave?” You heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs from the lobby and you got anxious at the thought of a neighbour witnessing this cringe worthy altercation.  

“I’m not leaving until you let me in.” He moved his foot past the threshold of the door frame, to prevent you from closing the door on his face.

“Brian you can’t-“

“She said leave.” A foreign voice sounded from down the hallway cutting you off, both your heads flung to the source.

The tall, brooding man had only been your neighbour for a week, you passed by each other with tight smiles both of you too occupied to say hello. But that didn’t stop you from getting a good look at him. He was handsome in a ruggish way, often only sporting shorts and wife beaters, sweat forming on his head as he lugged boxes into his apartment. You noticed the gold band on his large finger, yet no man or wife in sight. Yet, today there was no ring and he had swapped the wife beater for a button up shirt and jeans.

“Who the fuck are you?” Brian spat at the man who could beat him to a pulp with minimal effort. Ah Brian, always so confident for a man whose dick was the size of your pinky.

Your hide your face in your hands in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

“Ari, now I suggest you leave her alone.” He moved closer to you both, slightly moving his body in front of you, blocking Brian from entering.

“She’s my girlfriend and this was our apartment so I think I can stay but thanks pal.” Brian sounded confident but his voice waivered as he cranked his neck to look up at Ari.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” Ari looked back at you, catching your eyes, giving you a soft smile.

“Well, that settles it so either you leave, or I make you leave.” Ari knelt a little, getting close to Brian’s face his voice was calm and level, but his eyes told Brian he wasn’t bluffing.

Brian huffed and made his way back down the hall, not before turning back “Enjoy her she’s a bitch but she’s slutty.”

Ari flashed a glowing smile and a prominent middle finger as he pushed his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

“You, ok?”

“I’m used to it but thank you for helping he wouldn’t have never left if you didn’t step in.”

“Don’t worry about it but you look like you need a stiff drink – got anything good?”

“Tequila?”

“Perfect.” He purred, following you as you made your way to your small bar cart, catching a glimpse of the soft skin that hang out slightly from your pyjama shorts.

You grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap;

“You know your wife’s really lucky to have you around.” You spoke as you poured two shots.

“Ex-wife.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be she was my equivalent of him.” You both chuckled at the mutual understanding of horrible exes.

“Y/N, by the way.” You spoke as you handed him the novelty shot glass.

“Good to finally put a name to my pretty neighbour.” You blushed as you clinked glasses, both downing the burning liquid in sync.

“Another?” You smirked at him.

1 shot turned into 4 as you and Ari sat on your couch, bonding over stories of your exes’ antics and anxieties about re-entering the dating scene. Both losing track of time as the hours fell into early morning. But neither of you felt tired, invigorated by your conversation and the upper coursing through your veins.

“She did not!” You hand fell to your mouth as Ari recounted the story of walking in on his ex fucking his friend on their kitchen counter.

“She did.” He nodded slowly, sipping his beer as he recalled on the sight.

“Well, she’s crazy. I mean, why would anyone cheat on you… when they have well… YOU. God, I mean if I had my own version of sexy Jesus at home, I’d never leave bed.” Ari’s eyes went dark at your bold comment as the image of you and him in bed clouding his mind.

You swallowed hard, realising the tequila was speaking for you and you had invertedly just admitted you found your neighbour hot.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to say you were hot, I mean yes you are hot but-“

“Sexy Jesus?”  He crocked an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I mean you know with the hair and beard... like… Jesus”

“I’m Jewish.”

“So, you could possibly be a descendent of Jesus then.” You tried to muffle the laugh threatening to spill as your nonsensical statement. But Ari beat you to it, reaching forward in a fit of laughter, his hand grabbing his pecs.

“You are something else Y/N… in a good way, I see why your ex showed up at your door.”

“What can I say I’m very addictive.” You twirled your hand along the rim of your glass, avoiding his prominent gaze.

“Was he telling the truth about that last comment?”

“That I’m his girlfriend? No no we definitely broke up.”

“No, I meant that you’re slutty.”

Your eyes widened and the mouthful of drink you just sipped threatened to spit out.

“I mean that depends…”

“On…?”

“On your definition of slutty.”

“I took it as you were good in the sack.” He was leaning back on the couch now, his long arms stretched along the back, his hand deathly close to your neck.

“I am not “good in the sack”, I am fucking great in the sack.” You leaned in closer to his figure on the last line, your face getting closer to his. Slowly placing your drink onto the coffee table.

He licked his lips in hunger, shortly before he closed the space between you two, his hand falling to your cheek to pull you closer.

You closed your eyes, relaxing into the soft feeling of his beard against your skin as you explored each other’s mouths.

In a swift motion, his mouth never leaving yours, he placed his drink next to yours, moving his hand back to you cup your ass that was slowly raising itself off the couch.

Moving his hand downwards, hooking your leg over his lap so your chest was now pressed against his button up shirt. Not satisfied at the feeling of fabric against you, you pulled away to undo the buttons, revealing his tanned, hairy chest and the shiny gold Star of David chain.

His chest heaved, watching you eagerly as you fiddled with the buttons. “Oh, fuck it!” You ripped his shirt to reveal the delectable abs hidden underneath. Your mouth returning to his as you ran your hands through his dark, shiny locks. He shimmied the rest of the flannel off, hands going to the hem of your cami, eager to reveal the plump, delicious tits, constrained by the fabric. With a final pull over your head, your breasts bounced, hard nipples falling in place against his chest.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out, pausing momentarily to admire the sight in front of him. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin down your neck towards your breasts.

His hands cupped the supple flesh, bringing it to his mouth as he sucked delicately on the hard nib. His eyes looked up at you past his long lashes as your head fell back in pleasure.

He moaned as your pulled on his hair. His hands, took a firm grip of your ass, raising his hips slightly, flipping you on your back with ease, you lay exposed across the couch. Leaping up to undo the zip of his jeans, shoes long discarded he stepped out of the worn denim. Your hands grabbed at the clothed, outline of his cock in his briefs, eager to taste the hunky man. Positioning yourself at the edge of the couch. Ari crouched his knees slightly, noting his height, eager to let you at your want.

Revealing his cock, your eyes widened at his size, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen and much bigger than Brian. You grabbed his base, kitty licking at the plump head, catching the loose drops of pre-cum that oozed from his red slit.

“Fuck Y/N, I knew you knew your way around a cock.” You smirked up at him as his hands pulled your hair into a ponytail, taking the hair tie from his wrist and securing it.

You placed the thick head in your mouth, pushing your spit onto his cock as you ran your lips up and past the head.

“You think you can take the whole thing baby?” He quipped at you.

Giving him a small nod, you opened your mouth wider, flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock as you slowly moved you head forward to let his cock push down your throat.

“Fuck baby! That’s it.” Ari’s hands clutched your ponytail tightly, edging his hips towards your head slowly.

You pulled out, looking up at him, with spit smothered around your lips “Don’t hold back Daddy.” Ari groaned roughly, head falling back at the sight of the beautiful woman on her knees in front of him calling him such a salacious name. It was all he needed to roughly fuck your throat, the sounds of your gags and wet, sloppy punctures filling the room.

He pulled your head back by your ponytail, you whined at the loss of his cock.

“You’re so good at it baby but I need that pussy.” He looked down on you with awe. You nodded, shuffling back onto the couch. Ari fell to his knees, head inches away from your pussy as he helped you pull your shorts down.

His mouth immediately went between your thighs, spitting on your exposed cunt before flattening his large tongue on your heat, leaving a long strip of warm, wetness from the skin above your ass to the tip of your clit. Sucking on the sensitive pearl as you mewled at the sensation. He moved downwards, nudging the tip of his tongue at your weeping hole as his beard brushed against your sensitive clit creating a sensation you have never experienced but was addictive. The bristles moving roughly against any inch of exposed skin.

“Ari please I need it!” You begged as you pushed his head closer to your core.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away to look up at your flushed face, sweat formed on your forehead. “What’d you call me?”

“Daddy, please fuck me.” You looked into his deep blue eyes, need in your voice.

“That’s better.” He smirked up at you, moving upwards to join you on the couch. You pulled him closer desperate to taste yourself on his lips. His movements slowed as he moved his hand to support your head pulling it back slightly to get deeper into the kiss.

Between the rushed, desperation appeared a moment of deep intimacy and want for the person in front of you. He grabbed his cock in his hand and slowly glided it through your wet folds, catching your deep moan as his length filled your tight, velvety interior.

Slowly, he moved in and out, eager not to go too far out and lose the sensation of finally being inside of you.

Letting out a deep groan as you ran your nails down his back, leaving long, red marks.

“Harder Daddy please… I need it.”

He looked at you, strands of sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, dipping his head down to give you a soft, wet kiss, pulling out, he grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, opening your mouth slightly as he spit roughly down your throat. You swallowed his spit greedily, flashing him an innocent smile which quickly faded as he pulled out to the edges of your entrance and thrusted roughly back in. You gasped at the sudden hit of his bulbous tip at your cervix. The repeated assault at your most sensitive core caused the coil inside you to tighten, your desperately grabbed at his large arms for stability, nails digging into his hard skin as your release rushed out of you and seeped down his length.

“That’s its baby let it out, fuck that makes me close.” His eyes darted between your two sexes, watching as the cream wrapped around his base like a decorative bow. His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his high, savouring the feeling of being inside of you amongst your juices.

He collapsed into the warm embrace of your chest, softly kissing the supple skin of your breast as you both breathed heavy post the best sex of your lives. As his now limp cock fell out of you along with the sticky, hot mix of your release.

Your eyes squinted at the sudden realisation of light pouring through your window, releasing it was now sunrise, tiredness took over you.

You shook the heavy man on you “Ari, it’s morning, do you want to come back to bed with me?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He steadied himself by his arms on either side of your head as he rose. Holding out his hand to help your shaky figure up and into the bedroom. Arms forming a tight grip on your hips as you hobbled towards your bed.

You both collapsing, ready to enjoy a well-deserved sleep.

[katnisspeetaprim]

Slice Of Life Part 1

Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Summary: Your and Jungkooks first meeting and first date.

Warnings: idol!au, non Korean reader, store worker reader, fluff, kissing.

Word Count: 1821 M.list

2018

The first time you and Jungkook met, was when he wandered into your workplace at 2AM. You worked in a small 24 hour store and the place was always dead this time of night, so you perked up when someone walked through the door, happy to have someone to speak to.

‘Hello! Welcome.’ You cringed at how cheery you sounded for how late, or early it was. You couldn’t really make out the face of the man who just walked in, considering he was wearing a hat and also a mask, though from what you could see he looked quite young, maybe 20 ish?

To your surprise, he turned to you and bowed slightly, saying a quiet hello. You watched as he picked his items and walked to the counter. Various snack and drinks, along with tubs of ramen littered the counter, one tub almost rolling off which he clumsily caught.

‘So that will be 40,000 won please.’ You couldn’t help but raise your brow in shock when he pulled out a black card for such a small amount. You wondered how rich this guy was to be able to have something like that at such a young age, though you kept quiet. He went to take the bag from you but hesitated.

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you Korean is very good.’ A smile grew on your face, not expecting the compliment.

‘Oh thank you! I’ve lived here since I was 12.’

‘Ah very cool! I bet it was scary, moving country so young?’ The stranger sounded genuinely interested, which only made you happy to share your story.

‘I guess so. My step dad is Korean and he got a good job over here.’ You explained.

‘So good that you have to work in a convenience store?’ He chuckled, but realised right away that that may have been a little insensitive... ‘Sorry.. I didn’t mean it like that...’  You held up your hand to stop him apologising.

‘No it’s ok. I don’t really have a relationship with them now, so I’m supporting myself how I can.’ You smiled warmly, hoping to make clear that he hadn’t offended you in any way. The man nodded as he looked over your smiling face. There was an awkward silence as you shuffled from one foot to the other.

‘Was there something else I can help you with?’ You asked, feeling a little intimidated under his gaze. He looked as though he was contemplating something.

‘I’m sorry if this is too forward, but you are very pretty.’ Your eyes widened and you felt a blush creep up to your cheeks. You brushed some stray hair behind your ear as you laughed.

‘Um thank you.’ You looked up. ‘I wish I could return the complement, but I can’t see your face...’ You glanced up at him, hoping he got the hint. He looked away, and you could see his eyes were cast down, like he was weighing up his options, before he slowly lowered his mask. Your eyes widened again. Stood in front of you, the man you’d been kind of flirting with, was Jeon Jungkook from BTS.

‘Oh, wow yeah. Definitely handsome.’ Was all you could manage to say. He smirked at your response. Jungkook was well aware of how he looked.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Y/N’ You try to say with confidence, pausing for a moment after. ‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know yours...’ You didn’t want to make things awkward, but you wanted to be transparent with him too. It was only fair. Jungkook looked down, still smiling but almost like he was disappointed.

‘I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear..’ You trailed off, hugging yourself sadly.

‘Ah no, it’s not that. If you can talk to me like a human, that’s all I want.’ He spoke quickly , not wanting you to feel offended by his actions. You gave him the biggest smile you could muster.

‘I can do that.’ He grinned back at you.

‘Would it be alright if I came back here to talk again sometime?’ He asked hopefully.

‘I’m here every week night!’

After that night, Jungkook started coming in every other day just to see you. You enjoyed seeing Jungkook and not just because he was some famous idol. You felt a genuine connection with him, and you only hoped that he felt that way too. You wanted to ask him on a date, but you also didn’t want to over step and boundaries he may have. Maybe it was best to see how things play out for now, possibly just ask for his number and go from there.

Turns out you were worried over nothing. He ended up making the first move and asked you out to dinner. You said yes. Obviously.

Jungkook had insisted on picking you up for your date so you stood waiting on your front porch, fidgeting nervously as you checked the time yet again. He was late. By almost half an hour. You had text him to see if he was on his way, but received no response. At this point you were sure you had been stood up.

You sighed and looked down sadly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you took in your outfit. You had chosen a flowy blue, knee length dress and simple hair and makeup, not wanting to seem over the top for the first date.

You were in the process of unlocking your front door so you could wallow in self pity, when you heard the sound of an engine suddenly pulling up.

You turned just in time to see Jungkook jumping out and running up to you.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late! We ran late at practice, then we had to go to a meeting, and THEN  I couldn’t find anything to wear and the traffic...’ He was rambling, desperate to explain. You smiled softly, realising he had tried his best to get there.

‘Jungkook, it’s fine. You’re here now.’ He sighed in relief when he heard you speak. ‘Thank you. I promise to make it up to you.’

This place was way out of your comfort zone. You had been worried about being over dressed, but now you felt under dressed in this place. You tried to distract yourself with the menu, but your face paled when you saw the prices, plus there weren’t many vegetarian options either...

Jungkook was oblivious to your concerns as he spoke animatedly, not that you wanted him to notice. You just wanted to have a nice night together.

‘I’m ready to order. How about you Y/N?’

‘Umm-‘ You hesitated for a moment, eyes raking over the menu once more.

‘I think I’ll just get a salad and an eggplant and seaweed side dish.’ He frowned at your choice.

‘Salads? Are you sure that’s all you want? I’m paying if the prices are an issue?’ He didn’t want to assume you couldn’t pay, but he was aware that this place wasn’t within everybody’s budget.

‘No please, I don’t want you to pay for me.’ You waved your hands dismissively. ‘Plus it’s not that.’

‘Are you sick?’ he asked, concern filling his features. You smiled at his caring nature.

‘No. I’m a vegetarian and there just aren’t many options is all.’ You watched he face fall as you explained.

‘Ah right.’ He sighed and his shoulders sagged. ‘I’m sorry Y/N. I should have asked about that.’

‘No honestly it’s fine! I don’t mind eating salads, I swear!’ You tried to make him feel better, but it didn’t really work.

‘This is probably the worst date you’ve been on huh?’ He looked down sadly. The last thing you wanted was for him to be upset. You leaned across the table and gently placed your hand over his.

‘not even close. Really, I like being with you.’ He stared at your hand resting on his for a second, before turning his hand upwards to hold yours with a smile.

‘What do you say we get out of here? We can get takeout and go back to your place to eat?’ You raise your eyebrows playfully.

‘My place? That’s a bit forward, don’t you think?’ You smirked at him, causing a deep blush to form across his face.

‘NO! T-that’s not what I meant, I swear! There’s just 6 other guys at my place who won’t leave us alone...’ He stuttered out, causing you to laugh, putting him out of his misery.

‘I’m kidding! I know what you meant.’

After that, you both got up and left, ignoring the strange glances from the waiters as you walked out the door. Not long later, you found yourself spread out on your sofa, surrounded by various boxes of takeout.

‘This is definitely more my scene.’ You sighed contently as you finished your slice of pizza. Jungkook had removed his jacket, leaving him in a dress shirt that clung to his shape perfectly. You couldn’t help but admire him.

‘I’m glad I could get something right.’ He chuckled, stacking up the containers on the coffee table. You gently shoved his arm.

‘Stop that! I’ve had a good time tonight.’ He grinned at you as he leaned back, arm spread across the back of the sofa. You shuffled up next to him and nestled yourself under his arm.

‘Hi there.’ He smiled down at you.

‘hi.’ His hand came down to brush across your shoulder, causing Goosebumps to appear on your skin.

You looked up at him and caught his eyes boring into you. Without warning, he leaned down and kissed you. The action took you by surprise, but you excitedly returned his kiss. You bought your hand up to cup the side of his face as you made out with open mouth kisses.

You pulled back for breath and rested your forehead against his.

‘I didn’t expect that to happen, not that I’m complaining.’ He joked, pulling you close.

‘Yeah.’ You nodded with a blush, smiling wide. Your fingers ghosted over his chest.

‘What are my chances of a second date?’ You pretended to think for a second.

‘I’d say about 50/50.’ You smirked before giving him another quick peck.

‘Ah, I see how it is.’ He laughed.

‘OH SHIT!’ He suddenly exclaimed when he caught sight of the time.

‘What!?’

‘I didn’t realise how late it was! I need to go, early schedule tomorrow.’ He was disappointed, but he couldn’t risk being late in the morning.

‘I understand. I had a great time tonight.’ You stood and walked him back to the door as he put his jacket back on.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?’ You nodded in agreement as you pulled him into a tight hug. ‘See you soon.’ He whispered in your ear, before planting a kiss on your cheek. As you watched him drive away, you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling like an idiot.

[boozy-the-ghost]

OKAY I wrote it. Its almost 2am and I have word tomorrow but I needed this out of my brain. I never wrote anything before so be gentle with me.

Summary: Victor and Mitch in prison era. Victor is sick. Mitch is an angel like always. Could be pre ship if you want but its meant to be friendship.

Disclaimer! I don't know anything about life in prison so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. Also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes.

@fluentmoviequoter thank you for the push! I hope you like it even if it's not really your cup of tea!

Like every morning, Mitch and Victor were sitting next to each other at the dinning hall for breakfast.

They weren't speaking, not making any small talk, just quietly in each other's company, the chatter of the other inmates a background white noise.

Victor was always pretty quiet and withdrawn, but today felt a little different.

Even if he wasn't interested in what the other inmates were doing, Victor always paid close attention. You had to, if you wanted to survive at a place like this. And it's not like he ever made it obvious, but Mitch knew him well enough by now to see how attentive and sharp he was.

Now, though, he looked spaced out, lost in his own head. Again, it wasn't noticeable to anyone but Mitch, but for him it was so unlike Victor, it was raising alarm bells in his head.

Still, he couldn't just straight up ask Victor what was wrong. He was pretty sure that would only get him a nasty look, at best.

So he decided to just let it be, and keep a closer eye than usual on his cellmate for now.

He went back to his breakfast of overly cooked eggs and stale toast, noticing Vic barely touched his.

Victor wasn't a big eater, not too surprising considering the quality of prison food, but he always ate something. You have to keep your strength somehow.

And he always finished his coffee, no matter how watered-down and bitter it was. But today he only took a few sips before pushing it aside and retreating back into his own head.

Mitch frowned to himself but turned back to his own food, tucking away his observations in the back of his head.

...

By the end of that day, Mitch had a guess as to what was going on.

A quiet sniffle here, a clearing of the throat there, and it wasn't too hard to put two and two together.

It was so quiet and well covered, and infrequent enough, that no one else but Mitch would have ever noticed a thing, but Mitch wasn't everyone else.

He was relieved the explanation for the strange vibes he was getting was so mundane, though.

As they lay in their bunks in their shared cell when the lights turned off, he could hear Vic sniffle and shuffle in his bed, trying to get comfortable.

With that strangely domestic sound as a background, he fell asleep.

...

Mitch stirred from his sleep, eyes squinting open to be greeted by the still dark cell.

He wasn't sure what woke him up at first, until he heard the unmissable sound of rough yet muffled coughing from the other side of the small room.

Even though Victor was clearly trying to stay quiet, muffling his cough into the thin pillow as best he could, Mitch cringed at how painful and grating they sounded.

But Vic was clearly trying to stay undetected, so Mitch stayed quiet too, pretending to still be asleep, until Victor quieted.

When Mitch heard the even breathing of his cellmate signaling he was back to sleep, he shuffled in bed to get comfortable and went back to sleep.

...

The next time Mitch opened his eyes, the lights were on, and he could hear the loud voices of the guards walking down the corridor of the cells for their morning rounds.

Groaning, he pushed himself to sit up in bed and took in the familiar surrounding of the cell.

Victor was still asleep, which was unusual, he was always up and dressed by the time Mitch was only cracking his eyes open, but it was understandable if the guy was getting sick.

Still, if the guards saw him still in bed by the time they reached their cell, they probably won't be to happy. So Mitch decided to be a good cellmate, no matter how scary the idea of waking Victor might be.

"Hey, Vic. Victor, wake up" he called, starting softly then raising his voice slightly when there was no effect.

At the second call, Victor's peaceful face drew into a frown as he stirred, grouning as he peeled his eyes open, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Ugh, fuck" Vic muttered to himself as he pushed himself onto his elbow. His voice was hoarse, and he raised his arm to cough into his elbow a few times before finally sitting up, just in time for the guards to come dragging their baton across the bars of the cell.

Seeing both inmates awake, they quickly kept on going to the rest of the cells.

Mitch watched them go, still half asleep himself, when harsh coughing drew his attention back to his cellmate.

"Sucks, man" he winced in sympathy. Victor's only reply was a frustrated groan/growl as he pushed himself out of bed.

Mitch followed suit, knowing they didn't have long before the guards will be back to open their cell and let them start their day.

...

It was pancakes day, Mitch's favourite. Granted, the pancakes weren't great, but it was the best they had, so he took what little joys he could find here in stride.

As he was scarfing down his food, he took a closer look at his partner.

Victor, always pale and washed out by the grey jumpsuit, was looking whiter than ever, with the only color on his face being a light dusting of a pink flush on his cheeks and the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes.

He clearly still lacked an appetite, poking at his own portion with the plastic spork, looking zoned out.

Apparently he wasn't as checked out as he appeared though, because as soon as Mitch finished his food, Victor's tray was pushed in front of him. He looked up and gave a hopeful, questioning look.

"Have at it" was his answer, said in a raspy voice, but with a spark of amusement at the excitement Mitch showed at the prospect of extra pancakes.

...

It was mandatory yard time, and usually Victor was pretty indifferent to it, but today the chill in the air was making him shiver and sniffle, the thin jumpsuit and undershirt not nearly enough to keep him warm.

He was leaning against the wall, wishing he had some place to sit down.

His legs felt weak. His head felt heavy.

He took care of his headache long ago, with just a turn of the imaginary dial in his head, but there was nothing to be done about his other symptoms, and they were growing steadily worse.

Mitch was running laps around the yard, throwing glances at Vic whenever he could, like always.

Victor didn't need a bodyguard, he was more than capable of keeping himself safe around here, but it was strangely warming to have someone on your side.

He didn't let himself dwell on the thought. Clearly his fever was making him soft. Mitch was useful to have around, but that was it. He couldn't let it be more than that.

And Mitch desered better anyways. Why he chose Victor to stick to was beyond him, he deserved better. But finding anyone worthwhile inside these walls was no easy task. Vic just got lucky.

He was pulled out of his thoughts (his way too sentimental thoughts) by an irritating itch in his nose.

"Ugh." He was hoping to avoid this. Showing weakness here was never a good idea, and besides, it always made him feel disgusting.

When the itch only grew, he brought his wrist to his nose and perfectly stifled a sneeze into near silence.

It did make his nose run worse, and obviously he didn't have any tissues available here. Sniffling wasn't enough anymore and he had to resort to wiping his nose on the cuff of his sleeve. How disgusting.

Finally, yard time was over. He really wanted to sit down. Mitch came to his side like always, sweaty and panting, as they followed the guard to the showers.

"How you holding up?" Mitch asked him. It was clearly good intentioned, but Victor felt himself stiffen at the comment a little.

He hated showing weakness, and here most of all, and the reminder that he was visibly weak right now, coupled with his sour mood from standing around in the cold feeling like shit, made him more prickly than usual.

"I'm fine" he said in a harsh voice, immediately regretting it when he noticed the very quick hurt look on Mitch's face.

He hid it well, but Victor knew him long and well enough to notice.

Then he said another thing completely out of character for him.

"Sorry."

It was said quietly, almost shamefully. And Victor cursed himself in his head. Get yourself together, he chided himself.

Mitch opened his mouth to say something, but obviously the word took him by surprise as well, so it stayed open in silence for a moment, and then they reached the showers and the moment passed, each having to go on with finding a spot for themselves.

...

They were just sitting around the common room, each with their own book. Victor wasn't really reading his, feeling too floaty and spaced out to concentrate.

He was really beginning to be hit with the full scale of this illness.

He felt weak. Heavy. Like just keeping his head up was more than he could handle.

He was also visibly shivering now, not able to control it no matter how hard he clenched his muscles. And he was sticky with sweat despite the recent shower.

He stuffed his pockets with the thin scratchy toilet paper from the bathrooms, and used it to wipe his nose whenever he found a second with little to no eyes on him. It was making his skin red and irritated, he was sure he looked ridiculous by now, but didn't have much other choice.

All he wanted was to get back in his cell and lay down, be alone and in silence for a while.

But in prison, you don't get to choose. He'd only be able to return to his cell after dinner.

...

Finally, it was dinner time.

Just the thought of food made him feel worse, and he was glad he couldn't smell a damn thing at this point because he was sure imthe smell of the terrible food here would be less than helpful.

He was standing in line, Mitch behind him, waiting to grab his tray so he could sit down again before his knees would buckle.

He must have spaced out, because he was pulled out of his daze by a hand gently tapping his shoulder.

Looking back at Mitch, he just gestured forward with his head, and Victor realised the line moved forward without him noticing.

If he was less dazed, he might have been concerned at that.

Mitch was concerned enough for the both of them.

...

They were finally at the table after what felt like half an hour to Victor but was probably only a few minutes.

He couldn't care less about the disgusting mush on his tray, but he did get himself some tea, instead of just water, like he usually had with dinner.

He may have turned down the slicing pain in his throat, but he could do nothing about the scratchy feeling and swelling that made him cough and feel like he couldn't breath. He hoped the hot drink would help, even if just slightly.

Also, it might help warm him up. He couldn't get warm after the time in the yard, even after the almost hot shower after.

Mitch was looking at him, frowning, but Victor felt too hollow and tired to care. He just wrapped his hands around his mug and sipped his too strong black tea.

...

Mitch was getting worried.

The flush on Vic's face progressed from a light dusting of pink to a much more noticeable flush.

His eyes looked watery and unfocused. Mitch even had to nudge him along at the line because he spaced out.

It was so different to the usually so quick and sharp man he was used to.

He still wasn't eating, but honestly who could blame him, when the offering was overly cooked rice and canned beans.

Mitch decided not to press. At least he was drinking tea, staying hydrated.

Soon they'll be back in their cell and hopefully he could sleep whatever this is off.

...

Finally, Vic was back in his cell. Never has he been happier to be locked in a tiny room.

It wasn't lights out yet, but he still took his jumpsuit off, put on the grey sweatpants they use as sleepwear here, and crawled into his bunk.

He was shivering, the thin blanket provided not nearly enough to calm his chills. He pulled it as tight as he could around himself and buried his face in the pillow, not caring anymore how pathetic he might look.

It was only him and Mitch here after all.

Speaking of, he could feel Mitch's worried gaze on him even though his foggy mind.

"Stop worrying. Just need some sleep and I'll be good." He mumbled, hoping Mitch could understand his hoarse, stuffy voice. He wasn't making it better by refusing to lift his head from the pillow to speak.

"I know..." He heard Mitch respond. "Just sucks you're so sick. Try getting some sleep, I'll keep quiet."

Victor was both touched, confused, and uncomfortable by how much Mitch cared.

No one has ever shown him such care, not even his parents. Actually, especially not his parents.

Maybe Angie and Eli had once upon a time... but he refused to think about them.

...

He was so exhausted, all he wanted was sleep, and to escape all the discomfort he was in with unconsciousness. But every time he came close to drifting off, the rattle in his lungs or the itching in his nose will pull him away, forcing him to half sit up on his elbow to cough or sneeze.

His cough was sounding worse, a rattle from deep in his lungs, and his usually quiet, almost kitten like sneezes, that used to embarrass him, were getting harsher and impossible to stifle.

He also burned through his stash of toilet paper, and the lights weren't even out yet.

After his latest sneeze had thrown him into a long coughing fit, he collapsed onto his back on the cot with a groan. "Ugh. Sorry I'm so disgusting..." He rasped, sniffling and wishing he had some tissues.

Mitch looked up from the book he was only sort of reading with a frown. "Hey, don't even worry about that. You can't help getting sick." He sounded genuinely appalled at the prospect of Victor apologising for something like this.

Victor didn't know what to say. He really wasn't used to people being so nice to him.

He was startled and embarrassed to feel tears prickle at his eyes, and he quickly blinked the feeling away, turning his head away to hide any evidence, continuing to sniffle.

"Oh! I got something for you" Mitch said, getting up from his seat on his bed and digging his hands in the pockets of hos own jumpsuit.

He pulled out two handfuls of crumpled napkins from the dinning hall and handed them to Victor with a smile.

Victor turned his face back to him, unable to hide the surprise from his face. Mitch though of him and his needs and tried his best to provide. Now he really couldn't do anything to stop his eyes from getting glossy with tears.

Mitch clearly noticed. He frowned and knelt before Victor. "Hey, it's okay."

He hesitated, but then reached his hand to lay on Victor's forehead.

It was big and cold and felt so good, Victor closed his eyes and couldn't help but lean in slightly.

Mitch frowned deeper. "You're really burning up..." He worried.

Then, he got up. Victor tried hiding his disappointment by closing his eyes again.

He heard the sound of water running, and a moment later there was an almost cold wet cloth on his forehead, and it felt amazing.

Mitch has grabbed one if the few t-shirts he had to use as a cold cloth for Victor.

Then he went to his own bed, grabbed his own blanket, and layed it over Victor.

"I know it's still not very warm with how shitty these blankets are, but hopefully it helps a little."

And it did. Not by much, but it was still warm from Mitch's body heat when he was sitting reading on his bed, and it was so much better than nothing.

"Thank you." He whispered. His voice did NOT wobble. He'll never admit it, no matter how sick and delirious he got.

But finally, he was comfortable enough to fall into a light doze.

...

His dreams were a tangled mess of memories and knives and electricity and pain pain pain and-

He was startled awake by someone shaking his shoulders, calling his name out in desperation.

"Victor! Wake up! Stop!"

His eyes spring open, and at first all he sees is dark, and the feeling of buzzing electricity in the air, and his fevered mind panics more, but a painful groan pulls him out of it, and he finally focuses his eyes on Mitch, who's kneeling beside his cot, face scrunched up in pain.

Immediately, Victor turns the dial all the way down, as he bolts upright to reach to Mitch.

The sudden movement makes his dizzy and he stumbles, ending up.on his knees as well infront of Mitch.

He reaches out to him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Before Mitch can even open his mouth to respond, two wrenching sneezes sneak up on Vic, leaving him barely enough time to turn away from Mitch and sneeze openly twords the concrete floor, leaving him even more dizzy.

Strong warm hands grab his shoulders.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. Let's get you back to bed, okay?"

Vic nods and let's Mitch help him to his feet and back to bed, mumbling apologies as they go.

"Shh, it's okay. It was an accident, and I'm perfectly fine now. Just get some more sleep." Mitch tries to sooth him as he crawls back under the blankets, too tired to insist.

So he has no choice but to listen, and fall back asleep.

...

The next time Victor wakes up, it's blessedly slow and quiet.

The lights just turned on, which is what woke him up, and he can hear Mitch's low groan as he slowly wakes up himself.

He takes stock of how he's feeling.

Still awful, weak and sore, can't breath out of his nose to save his life.

But there's no longer the fever haze clouding his thoughts, making his brain feel like mush, his emotions all out of whack.

He knows today will still suck, with how sick he still feels, but he knows Mitch will be there to help him out.

[dilfsuzanneyk]

a post about my bbc ghosts oc because @natequarter made a post that reminded me of him!

TW for mentions of alcohol, vomit and some violence

His name is Axel "Ace" Spades (he/him). Ace is basically an oc insert because I thought it'd be fun (sorry for being cringe </3 /hj). He's a 26 year old indie (wanna-be) filmmaker who died around the late-2010s (i'm thinking like March 2017?). Ace has a pretty long mullet (think like bon jovi) and it's dyed bright pink. He usually wears the same pair of crust pants that are layered with a bunch of home-made patches. Aside from that he'll wear the first thing he can find in his closet, so his shirt is always clashing badly with his pants. He's not very tall, about 158cm, and he makes no effort to look taller either. Ace died wearing a shirt that says "heavy metal" in a bubbly font that he cut the sleeves off of, his crust pants, kirby-themed socks and a pair of vans that are caked with dirt.

Most people know him as Ace because he thought it'd be cool to go by that on top of his chosen name "Axel", so there's no real cool story behind it. Spades isn't his real last name either, he just thought it'd be even cooler to be known as "Ace Spades", and he didn't want to keep using his father's name. Basically his whole deal is that he grew up in a very protected and controlling family, so he took uni as an excuse to get out of his parents' house and get as distant from them as possible. His upbringing also caused him to be a really big adrenaline junkie, since his big belief is to take whatever chance, pick whatever fight and do whatever pops into his mind "to make up for lost time". His impulses has gotten him into a lot of trouble physically and mentally, and so has actually had quite a few instances where he died for a moment and was resuscitated or just got waay too close to death, which brings me to his death and his ghostly powers.

The idea at the moment is that he died on St Paddy's Day, after a long night of bar hopping and heavy drinking. He built up the bad habit of being a pretty heavy drinker and a chain smoker. Anyway, at one specific bar, Ace almost started a stupid bar fight and got kicked out. In anger, he hopped on his motorcycle and drove up to the more secluded side of the village he happened to be in. His motorcycle broke down suddenly as he was riding, and it happened to break down right in front of the Button House borders (territory?? i'm not sure of the right english word, i apologise). He tried to walk up to the house to ask for help, but keep in mind it's about 2am at this point and Alison and Mike (and most of the ghosts) are asleep. Ace passes out on the driveway before he can even make it up to the front porch. Robin is the one to find his body really early in the morning while he's on a walk. In his excitement, he runs into the house screaming and wakes everyone up, including Ace himself, who gets up off the floor to look down and find his own body lying face down with a small pool of vomit near him. Long story short, he died in Button House territory, became a ghost, Alison and Mike have to deal with the shit he left behind, and he becomes a menace to them just like all the other ghosts <3 Now for his ghostly powers!! Basically, because of the amount of near-death experiences that Ace went through while he was alive, Ace also had Alison's power of seeing ghosts. He was just convinced that he was crazy, though. However, Alison only had one near-death experiences. Ace has had so many, he was able to wave away the ghosts he saw as "a result of some kind of brain damage". So on top of being able to see ghosts, he could also touch them if he tried hard enough. So because of his condition and the stuff he did while living, his "spirit" in a sense is confused about its state and as a result, Ace can interact with the human world normally if he focuses hard enough (e.g. he can move and touch things, he can be heard by the living) BUT he can't touch humans normally most times since it takes so much effort to do it and it generally is just uncomfortable (because y'know he's still a ghost at the end of the day). He also unfortunately can't touch or interact with his ghost friends, and sometimes he can't even speak or hear them, unless he puts in the same amount of focus and effort he needs to interact with the living. He can always see the ghosts, though, so they all found a way to mime what they want when his ghost powers go funky. Sometimes, his spirit is just too confused that he can't control what it does, so there are moments where he tries to walk through a wall but face-plants right into it, or he tries to speak to Mike/Alison and they don't hear anything. Same for when he tries to speak or hear the ghosts. TL;DR, i have a silly bbc ghosts oc insert that i went a bit too creative and silly with when i was thinking of his ghost powers and now his ghost powers (which would sometimes seem like a blessing to the other ghosts) also is a curse.

[katsusks]

small 2am thought but I remember when I was still slowly, but surely catching up to gntm-- considering zura as a favorite never once crossed my mind... really, I was more of shinsengumi gal (with kondo being my main fave) because their gags were fun and their dynamics with a lot of characters intrigued me the most since kyubei's arc, and then the crisis arc. of course as time went on, I did start seeing his appeal (thru owee -> the screwdriver arc -> popularity poll arc in particular)

but the second I reached renho's arc, only then did it click because of his relationship with elizabeth and his ending lines during it.....because like ah! ahhhhhhhh what do you mean the haha funny cringe (mentally) old man has an issue I struggle with too? what do you mean towards the end, the reminder that even in times where he might feel lonely without his pet/partner (that was given to him by one of his friends), he'll still have his friends that will be by his side when he needs them? and what do you mean it was just monday elizabeth who was leaving in the end? what the hell? why did you make my heart hurt over THIS? only to then make me laugh and love zura's character even more during the winter-vacation arc since it happened almost immediately after I finished renho? what the hell is wrong with you?

[augustghosts]

Mary On a Cross - Eddie Munson

Eddie has befriended the town priest's daughter and manages to convince her to sneak into the church one night. 

Is this an overused title now? I wrote this like a month ago so idk.

Warnings: Female reader. Eddie and reader are both adults. Blowjob. kinda inexperienced reader. This isn't very detailed or very long lol but I like it. Breaking into a church but not really because they have keys but they definitely aren’t supposed to be there. Not proofread so probably got mistakes, just ignore em.

Word count: 2.7k

“Forgive me Lord, for I am going to sin.” 

“Shut up, Eddie.” She whispered to him. His heavy boots crunching in the leaves behind her were already making enough noise. She didn’t need his booming voice, in whatever accent he had just put on to mock her father, to add to it 

Her father, the well known and well respected priest of the town. The kind and humble man whom she had just stolen from. The keys to the small church jingling in her hand was a harsh reminder of what she had just done. But Eddie’s big, warm hands resting on her hips and they stopped in front of the big wooden doors managed to erase any and all of the guilt she had previously felt. The only light surrounding them was the single bulb above the church door. 

She didn’t realize that she had been staring at the door until he spoke up. “For someone who doesn’t want to get caught, you seem very insistent on standing right underneath this very bright light.” 

She glared at him over her shoulder, and started fiddling with the keys. “Fuck, i don’t think i even know which one it is.” 

Eddie’s gasp rang through the air, “What did you just say? Did you just swear in front of the lord?” 

He laughed loudly as she turned around to slap his chest, shushing him. She finally found the right key, putting it into the keyhole and turning it slowly. The creaking sound made her cringe and look around. It was almost 2am, Eddie had parked his van by the woods and walked on foot to her house before throwing sticks at her window until she agreed to come out. He’d been suggesting this for weeks, ever since they had started this thing that they had going on. She still wasn’t sure why Eddie liked her so much, though he never failed to assure her and she genuinely believed him. She was convinced at first that he got some sort of kick out of it. Out of being the town's supposed metalhead cult leader and seducing the priest's only daughter who had never had a boyfriend before. 

The door swung open and she swore the whole town could hear it, was it always this loud or was it just because she was terrified right now? Either way she walked inside with Eddie right behind her, them both stopping as she realized it was pitch black inside.

“We can’t put the lights on, someone will see.” She whispered. Suddenly feeling very small and the building she knew so well suddenly feeling very big. 

“Yeah,” He agreed. “Keep the door open a sec.” 

The bulb above the door being the only source of light in the building, a sliver of it lighting up the path to the altar opposite them. She started to feel kind of sick, her hand that wasn’t holding open the door clutching the cross necklace around her neck. This was bad, this was so very bad. She watched Eddie in his boots and ripped jeans and denim jacket walk up to the altar her father usually stood behind. He fished a lighter out of his pocket and lit a few of the candles around the altar, just enough to light up the space around it.

“You can close the door now, might wanna lock it too.” He smirked and gestured to the candles, “This will have to do honey, any brighter than this and someone will come looking.”

She took one last look outside before easing the door shut, locking it behind her and running up the path between the pews to join Eddie at the front. She practically jumped into his arms, holding onto him and looking around. Surveying it as if she was in an unknown place and not a building she spends hours of her time at every week. He studied her face and wrapped his strong arms tightly around her, placing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against her skin. 

“Hey, we’re safe, you know? No one’s gonna come in here. I promise.” 

“You don’t know that.” She whispered, looking up at him. He looked beautiful in the candle light. 

“I do.”

“How?”

“Because I always do, have you forgotten that I know everything?” He was trying to make her laugh, ease her nerves, and she appreciated that. She giggled before pressing a kiss to his lips. He always let her make the first move, another thing she appreciated.

 He was always so kind, so so kind. Nothing like the rumors the church folk had spread about him and his friends. He held her tighter as they kissed, her fingers curling into his hair. She had never kissed anyone before Eddie, but she swore he was the best kisser in the world. He kissed her in a way that made her never want to kiss anyone else. The way he gripped her so tightly but touched her so gently. His soft lips are a welcome juxtaposition to the way he dressed and the music he listened too.

 She pulled away from him to unzip the jacket she had been wearing, revealing the top she had put on just for him. It was so simple, but she usually never wore things like this. The top paired with Eddie’s favourite little skirt that barely covered her ass and her bra that she had to hide from her mom had him staring, wide eyed and mouth open. 

“Fuck baby,” He reached for her, his hands cupping her tits through her shirt. “‘All for me?” 

“Of course.” She reached for his face, pulling him down to kiss her again. Rougher and more sloppy this time. Their chests pressed together so he could feel her hardened nipples against his skin. 

“What do you wanna do?” He asked, his lips finding her jawline and neck. His breath against the sensitive skin there made her gasp. “We can do whatever you want, even if that's nothing. Or just kiss. I’m cool with it all.”

“Uh- i,um” She hesitated as she pulled away from him, suddenly remembering where she was. Her nerves are building back up again. He sensed her anxiety, his hands reaching down to squeeze her ass, making her smile. 

“Look at me,” He whispered. “We can leave if you want.”

“No, no I don't want to leave. I just, um - I mean what do you want to do?” She asked. 

“I just want to be here with you. Coming in here was bad ass. It was hot as fuck.” He said, she blushed and looked away from him again. “We can do what we did last time, if you want.” He suggested, the blush on her cheeks growing as she recalled him making her come on his fingers in her dark room, after he had snuck through the window. How he had covered her mouth and shushed her and told her not to wake her parents. How he had kissed her as she came, swallowing her moans and how he had called her a good girl. It had embarrassed her at first, the way he had looked up at the cross on her wall and grinned as she had reached down between them to touch him, asking him to teach her. 

“I want to touch you again.” She said, a strange confidence coming over her when she remembered how he had moaned her name and told her how good she was doing, and the face he made when he had spilled into her hand. 

“Alright, i-if you’re sure.” He stuttered as she went for his belt. Kissing his cheek as she played with the handcuff shaped belt buckle. Suddenly, a horribly nasty idea came over her. 

“Go sit down.” She said, pointing to the first row of pews. The specific one she usually sat on with her mother and siblings on Sundays. He looked confused, breathing out a laugh and opening his mouth to question her.

“Go.” She cut him off before he could ask, smiling as sweetly as she could. “Please.” 

“Uh, okay,” He laughed, making his way down the stairs. “But only since you asked so nicely.” He joked as he sat down. He slipped off his jacket and watched her as she made her way down the steps. How beautiful she looked with the candles behind her. His jeans tightened as her tits bounced when she walked. He held out his hands to her, expecting her to climb onto his lap. But held them up, as if surrendering, when she dropped to her knees in front of him. 

“Woah,” He said as her hands came to rest on his thighs. His hard bulge is now visible in his already tight jeans. “Now this- this is definitely sinful. Baby, you’re gonna have to walk into the confession box after this, shit.” 

He was already worked up from just the thought of her like this, on her knees in front of him. But the fact that this was happening inside a goddamn church, that fact that she was wearing this goddamn outfit and the fact that her goddamn cross necklace she always wore was sitting perfectly between her tits. Fuck, he had dreamed of this. Her nimble fingers came up to his painful erection and began to palm him. Ever so lightly and gently, he had to resist putting his hand over hers and pressing down.

She noticed the way he tensed up and balled his fists when she undid his belt and the fly on his jeans. He pushed his hips up to help her pull them down but stopped her before she could touch him again. 

“Shit honey, are you sure? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want too and um- i didn’t fuck, i didn’t bring you here thinking something would happen, i just thought it would be fun and-” 

“Shut up.”

His mouth snapped shut at the sound of her voice, doing as he was told. 

“I know you didn’t,” She continued, “I never thought you did. I want this Eddie. I want to, I love touching you. I love making you feel good.” 

“Are you sure you wanna do this, here? We can go back to my van or even my place if you want. I know i make fun of all this God shit but i know it actually means something to you and i would never-”

“I want to, Ed’s.” She pulled out his achingly hard cock as she spoke. “Are you turning me down?”

“Fuck no. No way, I'm just- I'm just saying.” He stuttered again, suddenly feeling stupid. She was always the one stuttering and whining underneath him, he never expected the tables to turn like this. 

“Okay then,” She said, pumping him a few times and observing the way his mouth fell open and his eyes shut. “I think I know what I'm doing, but you’re gonna have to help me. Let me know if I do something wrong.” 

An evil idea suddenly popped into her head for the second time that night as she remembered Eddie’s words from earlier.

“Forgive me father,” She said, in the sexiest voice she could muster. Eddie’s head shot up from where it had fallen back onto the seat and his eyes were wide as if he knew what was coming. “For I am going to sin.” 

She finished her sentence by wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. He let out a delightful moan, she had never heard him sound like that before. She loved it. 

“Holy fuck that was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me. Oh my god, oh my god. I’m gonna remember that for fucking ever.” He rambled as his hand came to the back of her head, trying his hardest not to tangle his fingers in her hair and push her head down as her tongue swirled around his head. Her free hand pumped along his shaft. 

“Just a little more, baby. If you can.” He said, breathless. Now using his hand to apply pressure to the back of her head, but not too much. She could tell he was holding back. She hummed around him as he pushed her softly to take more of his cock. 

“Shit, good girl.” He whimpered. That was it, that’s what she loved. And he knew it. She moaned around him, his cock twitched in her mouth and she felt his hand tighten in her hair. He was helping her now, tugging on her hair slightly when she pulled up and pushing her back down again, holding her at the base for a few seconds before letting her come up to breathe. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, when she pulled off of him completely and took a few deep breaths. 

“Yeah, I just needed a second.” She smiled at him and that alone made him squirm. Her mouth was red and swollen and her eyes were teary and blown out. 

“Take your time baby.” He said through gritted teeth as she made her way back down again. His hand hesitantly hovering above her head again. She kissed the tip once before pulling back again and using her hand to jerk him off. 

“I want you to come in my mouth, Eddie.” 

“Yeah? Shit.” He groaned, “I’m fucking close, Honey. Don’t stop.” 

He groaned again when she took him back into her mouth, her hand working what she couldn’t take. He was breathing heavier, quicker now. He looked so gorgeous. His face flushed, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut. His stomach tensing and his hip thrusting and squirming. 

“Fuck, i’m gonna come baby. I’m gonna come so fucking hard. Are you sure you want it in your mouth?” 

She moaned around him and looked up at him, the best version of a yes she could give him right now. She was enthralled by the way he looked right now. This was a lot more intense than the hand jobs he had taught her to give him. She thought it was funny how unusually quiet he was right now compared to his usual self. His brows furrowed and mouth open. She thought that this was the most beautiful he had ever looked. Here in a fucking church, her church. Nothing but candle and moonlight surrounding him.

 She could feel the heat between her own legs growing the longer she looked up at him, the feeling in her stomach that Eddie had just recently made familiar to her beginning to grow almost unbearable. All it takes for him to spill into her mouth is one short glance down at her, the love that remained in her eyes as he thrust his cock in and out of her mouth. He was a goner.

“Fuck, baby. Oh shit, uh- you’re so fucking perfect. Oh my god.” 

His hand that isn’t in her hair is gripping his own thigh to stop himself from pulling her hair too tightly, definitely leaving a mark. Part of her was proud of herself, that she had reduced him to such a mess. Her usually eccentric and confident man was babbling her name and groaning as he came into her mouth. It’s so dirty, she thinks. To be doing this in general, but especially to be doing it here. She kept suckling until he physically pulled her off of him. She swore she heard him whine, but he quickly tried to gather himself. 

She giggled as she looked up at him, still on her knees, which had already started to hurt. He joined her in laughing as he grasped her shoulders and helped her up to sit beside him. 

“Holy shit.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Did you like it? For real?” She replied, they were both whispering again now. 

“Baby, that was the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He smiled, he was still breathing heavily. She reached down to help him buckle his jeans back up. 

“We should go.” She mumbled, kissing him again. “We’ve been here long enough.”

“Shit, I never thought I'd say this but I don't wanna leave. This is my new favorite place in the goddamn world.” 

[itsallyscorner]

This could be a request or not depending on how much time you have 😅 but for your information, yes, I am thinking Tom giving y/n hickies on her neck like the night before a bunch of interviews the next day and she's like, "Are you serious?" and he's like "I couldn't resist, I just love you so much!" and when y/n shows up the next day wearing a turtleneck after she told Zendaya that she would be wearing a dress Z immediately gets suspicious and figures it out bc I feel like she's like that 😅😂

Hehehe I haven’t written anything smutty lately and I miss it. So thank you for requesting this anon, much love to you🥰 Ugh, the thought of this gave me butterflies in my stomach😭 Happy reading!❤️

Also, little note for everyone who’s sending me requests! Yes, I see all of them! Part of the reason why I haven’t done some of them yet is because I have to think of concepts on how to execute them properly. So bear with me, love you all🥰

💌.

Love Bug

My soft boi🥺

Warnings: implied smut

(Gif from Pinterest)

The AC in your bedroom was just not doing you justice. The Californian heat was at an all time high today and has transformed you home into an Easy Bake oven. Though you were probably exaggerating, your thin crewneck sweater still clung onto your skin, making you uncomfortable. Peeling the sweater off your body, you toss it into your laundry basket. You’re left in a tank top and some lounging shorts as you sprawl yourself out on your bed. The coolness of the comforter bringing your body some relief from the heat.

Sinking into the sheets, the hustle and bustle of the day finally hits you. You’ve had a long day of press with your cast mates, promoting the movie you were all in, Spider-Man: Far From Home. You loved your job, but the press tours could just be so tiring. You were forced to wake up early in the morning and sit in a room for how many hours of the day to only be asked the same questions (most of the time). Though press tours did have its pros, meeting fans around the world and traveling to new countries was something you always looked forward to.

Marvel being Marvel, they always had to make it big. For the last few weeks you have all been traveling around the world, tired but nonetheless having an amazing time. Thankfully, this was the last stop of the press tour, California. You were back in your own bed and your boyfriend was staying with you for the time being.

You were on your phone, going through Instagram and looking at various photos that were taken today during today’s press engagements. You’ve even made your own contribution and posted your own batch of selfies and funny videos.

The door to the connected bathroom in your room opens and reveals your boyfriend. Your eyes break their focus on your phone and shift to the man in front of you. You smile and turn your phone off giving him all your attention. A smile forms on his own lips as he crawls up the bed to join you.

“Missed you all day.” He whispers against your skin, placing his head on your chest. His arms are wrapped around your figure, one leg hooked over yours. You move the hood of his sweatshirt from over his head and began to run your hands through his hair.

“Mmm, I missed you too.” He cuddles closer to your chest, arms tightening around you. His eyes momentarily shut, basking in your soothing motions.

“How was your day with Jake?” You ask him. As much as Tom wanted to do press with you, he was stuck doing them with Jake, while you did your interviews with Z and Jacob. Tom enjoyed having his interviews with Jake, but he missed being near you, even if you were just a room away.

Tom shifts so his lips are near the skin of your exposed neck. He hums against you before his lips come into contact with the soft surface. He had been tempted to mark you up all day. You wore a beautiful spring dress with a low neckline that displayed the skin of your neck. All he wanted to do was scatter red and purple love bites all over you, letting the world know you were his.

You gasp as he nips on the space between your neck and shoulder. “Interviews were good, but I just couldn’t get you out my head.” He slots himself between your legs and presses you down into the mattress.

“Teasing me with the pretty little dress of yours. Just wanted to kiss you and mark you up.” He says huskily against your neck. His breath sent shivers down your spine as goosebumps formed on your skin. His mouth sucks harder on the spot, teeth nipping gently, while his tongue soothed the bruising spot. He moved up so one of his hands are holding him up beside your head while his other strokes your side.

“Baby, we have an early morning tomorrow.” You didn’t want him to stop, but it was currently 2am and you were both expected to be awake by 6am.

His lips have made their way to the other side of you neck, pressing light kisses that turned to open mouthed ones. You giggle gently pulling him away from your neck so you can look him in the eyes.

“Babyyy.” He whines trying to shove his head back into the spot. A pout is on his lips, which were now a darker shade of pink from how much he was sucking on your skin.

“Tom, we need to be up at six.” You reminded him. Tom leans closer a boyish grin now on his expression. You couldn’t help but kiss him back when his lips captured yours. You feel him smirk against you as he pulls away.

The hand on your side moves to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “We’ll be quick, I just wanna feel you. Please?”

You stare at him for a moment as his hand drifts down your body and by your shorts. Excitement swirls in your belly as his fingers get closer to your growing heat. He kisses your cheek as his hand slips past the band of your shorts to cup your mound. The wetness brings a smirk to his face as his dark eyes gaze into yours.

“Baby, look how wet you are.” He praises you as he moves your panties aside and dips his fingers into your wetness. You sigh, eyes slightly rolling back as his fingers spread your wetness on your folds.

“Fine, but—“ You bring your finger to point again him, “No marks on my neck, I’m wearing a dress tomorrow with a low cut again.”

Tom nods connecting your lips again, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He assures you before diving his head back into your neck.

~next morning~

You enter the bathroom, tying your hair up to keep it away from your face. You turn the shower on and wait for the water to warm up. While you wait you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widen when you get a glimpse of you neck. You gasp out loud as you see the sides of your neck with red bruises with hints of purple on them. You had them on both sides of your neck and a small one almost on the center of your throat.

“TOM!” You yell, your voice echoing in the bathroom. There was some rustling behind the door before it was yanked open. Tom entered in nothing but his boxers looking disheveled, hair pointing in all types of direction and his eyes barely open.

“What happened?” His voice was raspy, something that usually made you swoon but right now you couldn’t even focus on it.

You turn to him, aggressively pointing to your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful!” You mock him, repeating what he said to you last night before he railed you into the mattress.

Tom’s eyes widen as well before he cringed. To be fair, you did warn him. He just didn’t know how to hold back when it came to you. He cautiously approaches you a sheepish grin on his face.

“I know it looks bad..” he begins. You shoot him a look, “Are you serious right now? Tom it looks like an octopus strangled me!”

Tom moves back to look at you, “Well you weren’t complaining last night.” You shoot him another look and he nods knowing you were annoyed with him at the moment. He stands behind you looking at the mirror you were both in front of. His arms wrap around your torso as he tries to soften you up.

“I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I couldn’t resist it. I love making love to you and I just get so lost in it and I know you warned me too, I’m sorry.” He apologizes hugging you from behind. You could tell he actually felt bad by the genuine look in his eyes. You sigh leaning back into him and resting your hands above his, interlocking your fingers.

“I forgive you, it happens.” You mumble, head trying to come up with ways to cover up your neck. “How do I even cover this up?”

Tom looks at your neck through the mirror, “Makeup will work right? Just put on some concealer or that color corrector thing you use.”

You nod at his suggestion. “That’ll work for a few hours, but makeup wears off. What if I accidentally wipe it off?”

Tom pursed his lips together in thought, “You could ask Laura to bring you something with a turtleneck.”

“It’ll barely move and your neck will be covered the entire time.” He suggests.

“Yeah, it’ll probably work. I just hope she hasn’t left yet, I should text her.” You move from Tom’s hold and turn the shower off. Before you leave the bathroom, Tom pulls you into a hug again. His face nuzzles against your hair, “I’m sorry, again.”

You smile and stroke his back, “I told you I forgive you, it’s ok love.” You pull away and peck his lips. Tom smiles and leans down to kiss your shoulder. Something he always did when you guys were having a moment. Instantly, you jump back and push him off, “Get your fucking lips away from my neck. I don’t need anymore hickies right now.”

~later~

Your stylist, Laura, ended up bringing you a stunning white dress that stopped above your knees. It was short sleeved, hugged your curves perfectly, and had a turtleneck that covered your neck. She gave you a pair of leather knee high boots which pulled the look together. Your hair was curled, pulled back into a half up and down style while short strands of hair framed your face. Compared to the panic you felt when your first saw the hickies, you were relieved when you saw yourself in the mirror again an hour later. You felt like a modern Go Go Girl as you admired your outfit.

You arrived at the hotel where all the interviews were being held. You make your rounds of greeting everyone, saving Z and Jacob last since you’ll be with them the whole day. You enter the room and see the two of them already sitting in front of the cameras. Jacob spots you first, “Aye! Good morning!”

You smile and walk up to them, giving them both hugs. When you pull away from Z she gives you a look. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, squinting at your dress.

“Weren’t you just complaining that yesterday was too hot? Why are you in a turtleneck?” She interrogates you. You smile nervously at her while you settle in the seat on the other side of Jacob.

“Um, you know, it’s a bit chilly today.” You lie. Jacob eyes you as well catching on Z’s point.

“(Y/n), it’s 95 degrees outside.” He tells you eyes panning around the room. Zendaya smirks leaning forward to get a better look at you, “I think someone was busy last night.”

“No, I wasn’t. I had a very nice sleep, thank you very much.” You sweetly smile at her crossing your arms.

Jacob snickers beside you, “I bet you did.”

“I guess Thomas couldn’t keep his hands off you last night.” She teased, exposing you.

“Or his mouth.” Jacob quickly adds smirking. Your cheeks get flustered squeezing your eyes shut. Jacob and Z burst out laughing at Jacob’s comment.

“I don’t even have a come back, blame Tom.” You throw your hands up in the air giving up. Z calms down and leans over Jacob to rest a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s ok, man. If I were Tom, I wouldn’t keep my hands off you either.” She tells you jokingly, helping you get over the embarrassment of wearing a turtleneck. You catch on and wink at her, “Aye, say less.” Your hand resting on top of hers.

Jacob puts his hands up looking shocked, “What did I just walk into? I—I gotta go.” He pretends to shove your hands away and gets up from his seat.

“I’m telling Tom about the sexual tension I felt in this room.” He yells over his shoulder as he walks out the room. You and Z look at each other amused, “Is he actually?”

Z shrugged, “Honestly, he’s probably getting some water. He was thirsty.”

The two of you catch up with each other. Talking about the press tour and what you were both planning on wearing for the premiere. You were in the middle of describing your dress when Tom bursts into the room with Jacob trailing behind him.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY WOMAN.”

[nevertheless-moving]

Unnamed Extremely Bad Plan to Defeat Darth Sideous AU - SW AU NO 9

Hopefully writing down this star wars au will help me exorcise the cringe demon that helped midwife it. Time travel au where obi-wan and Anakin come up with an extremely SPECIFIC and UNCOMFORTABLE plan to defeat Palpatine because it unfortunately, would actually work, as it capitalizes on one of Palpatine’s easiest to reach political vulnerabilities. This is not a unique plan- there are other au’s like this, but this one is mine. When searching for ways to explain exactly why this anti-sith strategy inspires such cringe and delight in myself I realized, with sinking dread, I have seen this in an Always Sunny episode...which yeah. I might be over reacting but hey, cringe is a personal phenomenon, everyone’s different.

Anyway! Uh here’s a bunch of plot that will eventually culminate in the plan. 

*Too much plot, aaaah*. **All plot actually.** ***Its 1 am and this is still a draft*** ****It’s 2am**** *****This post will be just be background I guess.*****

*******STAR WARS AU NO 9 LAZILY OUTLINED CHAPTER ONE*********

Force ghosts Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi have had time to yell at one another without need for breath, and have more-or-less come to terms with the trainwreck that was their shared life. I wouldn’t call them well adjusted, but they’re more stable then they were the last decade or so of their living existence. 

In haunting Luke, they end up encountering an artifact in an ancient Willis temple that offers spirits the chance to fix the mistakes they made in life. It doesn’t truly unwrite what’s been done, but it lets you create an alternate timeline. So this galaxy will still be what it is, but some alternate galaxy somewhere could at least have it better. Its almost never been used, because becoming one with the force usually lets you accept the past, but viewed objectively, Vader and Ben’s lives involved an extreme amount of yikes. They say goodbye to Luke and are flung backwards and sideways.

Anakin is holding his mother as she dies. Obi-Wan is landing on Genosis. 

Vader just barely manages to avoid slaughtering the tuskens. To be honest, he doesn’t really get why he shouldn’t- his moral compass is still pretty f-ed up. He’s fairly certain the force is just torturing him, but still he controls himself (for Padme for Luke for Leia).

I’m gonna say well-adjusted!Vader sees murder in general as more of a vice than a sin- on par with having a beer. And really well adjusted Vader is willing to admit to himself that he’s an alcoholic, he seriously cannot regulate, its a problem. He really can’t let himself go, because he’ll just end up spiraling. And so he restrains himself and only seriously maims a few of the adult raiders.

Vader figures he can always come back later and slowly torture them to death if this whole ‘save the future’ thing doesn’t pan out.

Obi-wan leaves his shuttle and hides under a rock for 30 minutes. He calculates thats just enough time for him to pretend he went on an extremely effective and sneaky fact finding mission- just in case anyone checks R4′s records. Gets back in shuttle and gets the fuck out of there, much to Dooku’s chagrin, who lost sight of him after the shuttle landed and is now going to have to switch to one of his alternate start-the-war plans. 

On the flight back he reports everything to the council- fallen Dooku and the separatist leaders, the trade federation and the massive droid army, Jango Fett the clone template of the republic army (?) working for the separatists. He briefly comms Anakin, but anyone hacking into their conversations would hear only a nonsensical, rambling conversation. Later, a hacker might turn over the idea that they were speaking in elaborate code, but why would Jedi invent such a thing during peacetime?

The war still starts; at this point in the timeline it was inevitable; the artifact was only designed to give them the chance to correct their own failings, not the galaxy’s. Palpatine still gets his emergency powers. 

The same day the armies are discovered, separatist war ships take off to engulf Ryloth. The Jedi are instructed by the senate to lead the clone army and provide immediate relief-this will not be a repeat of the republic’s inaction on Naboo. It’s both better and worse than the first Battle of Genosis. So many more civilians are caught in the crossfire. The first titanic battle is not contained to evacuated droid factories, but rages across an entire populated world. The battle lasts for weeks.

The main reason this fight is less deadly is solely due to the fact that General Kenobi manages to maneuver his way into high command of the entire army.

 “I believe assumptions were made since I was the first point of contact with Kamino, Masters,” the Knight explained apologetically to the arriving high council members. “I realize its not quite appropriate, but for right now I am the Jedi most familiar with our forces and the enemies. I would, of course, prefer to cede the role to someone else.” 

The assembled Jedi can feel the truth in that statement.

“For better or for worse, advance troops were directed by the senate to land planetside and have met heavy resistance. I managed to redirect them to a more defensible position, where they can provide surface based cover fire for incoming reinforcements. The battle has already begun.” He received a grim nod of approval from Master Windu.

“I feel the need to say now, that if there’s one thing I learned from my time as a general on Melida/Dann, or in working against Death Watch on Mandalore, its that having a clear chain of command is vital for a military to succeed. I don’t need to remind some of you that leadership breakdowns were what ultimately ended both the Stark Hyperspace War and the Yinchorri Crisis,” Masters Koon and Tiin exchanged looks before deliberately sending forth a small force wave of approval, understanding where this briefing was leading. 

“I believe that unnecessarily restructuring command before the battle is won here could do far more harm than good.” The reminder of Obi-wan’s unusually militaristic apprenticeship put some of the assembled knights at ease even as it inspired a twinge of guilt in the older masters. 

“In command you are, General Kenobi,” Master Yoda finally acknowledged. “A Jedi Master you will be, once done this battle is. Have us do, what would you?” 

The battle lasts for weeks, and when its over, the commanding Jedi and Troopers involved will openly acknowledge that had anyone else been in command, it would’ve lasted months, if not years. Facing down logistical, strategic, and tactical problems on a scale unheard of for a thousand years, High General Kenobi does not falter.

Enemy reinforcements seem unending. For all their preparation, every single trooper is new to war, and secretly concerned that should they fall, they will be replaced with cadets who hadn’t even finished their training.

Obi-Wan is putting out fires before they can start. Much to their shock, clone commanders are informed that they will, for the time being, remain in charge of their troops. With a handful of exceptions, Jedi ‘Generals’ were in fact, to be treated as a cross between highly skilled commandoes and advisors with abnormally sourced field intelligence. 

“All of you have spent your lives training to lead your brothers into combat. The Jedi Masters and knights who are being assigned to your divisions have not received such training.” 

General Kenobi addressed the division commanders, some in person, some over holocomm. All focused in rapt attention as their General reordered the shape of their lives using language they could understand.

“The command structure I am issuing is designed to maximize our ability to utilize our respective strategic capabilities, while minimizing potential loss of your life. It will be our great privilege to serve alongside such an army, and while I fully expect a complementary exchange of knowledge in time, for now, focus on survival.”

The Jedi received similar briefings, tailored for their broader array of combat and military experience. Some, including Jedi Master Pong Krell and Grandmaster Yoda, were pulled aside and tasked with the essential mission of infiltrating and destroying the Droid factories on Genosis. If they were to have a chance of winning this war, they they would need to cut off the seemingly unceasing flow of droid reinforcements. 

An elite squadron of Arctroopers and Jedi field operatives were covertly dispatched, Grandmaster Yoda himself in command. Considering Count Dooku had yet to appear anywhere near Ryloth...the grandmaster had the best chance of bringing in the fallen separatist leader alive for questioning.

Shortly after they left, Anakin arrived, having finally turned over Padme’s protection to her regular guard. With the military creation vote past, the assassination risk was considered minimal. The real delay in his arrival came from her repeated attempts to join the Grand Army of the Republic on Ryloth with the intent of coordinating humanitarian assistance. Eventually he managed to convince her that she could do more good in the senate. 

After all, he pointed out, someone would need to followup the military creation act with a bill to grant clones equal citizen rights. Otherwise, the legal grey area that cloning fell under and their non-republic origin would inadvertently make the clones slaves. 

His borrowed Nabooan cruiser entered the warzone with the grace and efficiency as a small neutron bomb.

Those close enough to see its flaming descent watched in horror, realizing that the high generals own padawan would likely be a war casualty before he ever engaged in combat.

The legion nearest to soon-to-be-ground-zero, under the command of Captain Rex of the 501st, were distracted by heated combat, as the temporary barricade they had put up to defend the civilian population gave way to droidika artillery. 

While reloading, several dozen troopers happened to look up to see a speck detach itself from the hull as at spiraled in the lower atmosphere. Hope spread that the Jedi had managed to activate some sort of eject hatch. A skilled shocktrooper could probably control and and survive such a fall with luck, which mean a Jedi almost certainly could. 

A few tactical scouts charged with watching the skies confirmed that the speck was indeed a humanoid. No chute was visible, but even 8 days into the war, rumors had already spread about how Master Windu had passed off his chute mid-air to a troopers who had been damaged by suppressing fire, cushioning his free fall solely with the tank he crushed upon landing. 

Only one trooper, stationed in the town clock tower specifically to track the Padawan’s arrival and issued with a high-resolution farscope, saw the whole thing. Fortunately for his credibility later, in its current setting, the scope automatically logged photos every 5 seconds, ensuring that for years to come Obi-Wan would have a flipbook as evidence that he was not the crazy one.

CT-3609 or Blink (as he was named after winning the division wide staring contest on Kamino two year prior) forwarded the trajectory of the vehicle to command, who confirmed his analysis that it would impact two clicks out from their makeshift fort and not present a risk to civilian or trooper lives. 

As it traversed the stratosphere a figure (desperate repair droid, Blink assumed) emerged from the cockpit to perch on the nose of the ship. As it entered the troposphere, it became painfully obvious that the figure jutting out from the hull of the ship was in fact not a humanoid droid, but an unarmored human. The Jedi stood on the prow of the ship, seemingly impervious to and oblivious of:

air resistance 

centrifugal force

normal space gravity 

Blink’s slack-jawed bewilderment

the flames engulfing the ship below him

At this range, the smirk on the man’s face was visible (man? boy? kriff is he even through puberty?). Several miles above the surface he leaped, diving towards the ground like a bird of prey. 

To the west, the ship made impact with the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the tower just enough for Blink to lose visual in the final moments of descent. Cursing, as while he was confident the Jedi would inexplicably survive, he really wanted to see how. The trooper scanned the droid-engulfed farmland to the north for a crash site, to no avail. Lingering smoke from the burnt countryside negatively impacted visibility low to the ground.

Rather than trying to articulate his report into words, he sent the 50-odd frames the farscope had saved, as well as the coordinates for the jedi’s projected radius of touchdown. A quick radio over to long range electro-ballistics ensured that his landing wouldn’t be marred by friendly fire.

He awaited follow-up questions on the absurd entry method, which, when they came, mostly consisted of variations on “...Is this for real?” and eventually “Can you set the scope to video for a little while?” and finally “Do you think that’s how he got the name Skywalker?”

There was a temporarily lull in fire from the west, likely a ripple effect from the ship’s explosion. From his vantage point Blink could see his batchmates using the opportunity to try and plug the holes in their barricade with broken droid pieces. Regardless of the itch to join them, he knew he couldn’t leave his post until the Jedi actually arrived in camp. Finally, a distant explosion and thick pillar of smoke gave the Jedi’s position away.

He tried to make out details, but the scope had a difficult time focusing through the haze. Manually trying to fine tune the scope’s settings, Blink caught a glimpse of what looked like half a hover tank sailing through the air to impact with a trade federation troop carrier in a fiery explosion. Several more explosions, flying droid artillery, and plumes of smoke were caught on record before visual contact with the source was established. He was mostly visible as a blue blur, lightsaber mowing a meandering path towards their location. 

It wasn’t until Skywalker braced himself in place to punch a droidaka into pieces that Blink caught actual sight of the man. Only his eyes were visible, nose and mouth covered by layers of cloth. He blurred, then reappeared on top a massive missile launcher attached to an absurdly heavily armored vehicle. A minute or so of rapid blue flashes passed, the longest he had seen concentrated in one area. Then Skywalker was gone, movement clearly visible as he for once he moved in a straight line, plowing a rapid path away from the launcher. 

Less than 30 seconds later, Blink had to wince away from the scope, as a burning white explosion temporarily overwhelmed the direct light filter. The trooper panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone both deaf and blind, but the abrupt, sucking silence ended after a moment with a deafening sonic boom. The shockwave rattled the farscope, nearly knocking it over, but Blink managed to steady it and himself in time. 

A cheer emerged from pleasantly surprised vod below. The entire droid legion that had been guarding the missile launcher and apparent ordinance bay was flattened. 

It took a moment for the realization to set in that the background noise of missile and and anti-missile collisions directly overhead had slowed pace. With the northern flank gone, artillery were able to redouble efforts to the east, and a second white hot shockwave ensued, signaling that the tide of battle had shifted. It was almost too easy for the republics electro-ballistics to tactically devastate the surrounding forces. 

Eventually some sort of win/loss programming must have set in and all forces outside of a certain radius began retreating southward, conceding the scorched land to the republic army. It was cadets work to clean up the final suicidal droid charge. 

A commotion ensued as Skywalker leapt the barricade with a mid-air flip. The vod greeted him with cheers, as they correctly assumed his appearance had something to do with the skirmish’s decisive victory.

Blink sent the video of the battle to command and quickly packed up his scope and assorted equipment. Hurrying down the battered tower, Blink thought to himself that this Anakin Skywalker was the best sort of Jedi a trooper could ask for.

uh sorry i got really sidetracked there moving on

Kenobi and Skywalker quickly become the face of the war once again

they grit their teeth a bit, but when they finally have a moment to really plan they eventually agree that to take down Sideous they have to cut off his political power in addition to everything else, and taking advantage of their public personas was the most accessible way to do so (*evil laughter*)

While Dooku wasn’t captured, Yoda heard the truth in his old student’s cryptic warnings about a Sith in the Senate, and the council begins carefully editing their release of tactical plans to the Chancellor’s office in the hopes of ferreting out the spy in their midst.

Pong Krell looses two arms in his duel with Dooku. Obi-Wan successfully hides his smug pleasure at the news. Anakin enjoys makeing comparisons between him and Grievous. 

Kenobi doesn’t allow the origin of the clones to go unexamined, although he agrees that if the public were informed that they don’t actually know who ordered them it would probably cause panic.

The ‘inhibitor chips’ are ‘discovered’ early on and Anakin leads the effort to ensure that they are phased out and removed immediately. This consists of reminding every Jedi who even hesitates about how how he as a child slave had some experience with control chips and unless you want to take a leaf out of the hutts books lets start doing brain surgery chop chop mmmkay?

(This isn’t to say that Vader doesn’t still a twinge of shame at acknowledging his slave roots. But it is eclipsed by the burning guilt that he knowingly acted as slave master to his troops for decades after Sideous wiped their minds. He tried to rationalize it to himself, after all he didn’t immediately understand what Order 66 had done to the troopers. But while the morality of murder was more of an intellectual concern than a personal one, treating people as things...)

The Kamonions are a little harder to budge, referencing contracts that they refuse to allow the Jedi to see

Finally Vader snuck into the Chief Medical Scientist’s home while she was sleeping and straight-up threatened to murder her and burn down her lab. At the risk of losing her life’s work, Nala Se complied.

Vader left with the final threat that in the event that Darth Tyranus caught wind and activated Order 66 prematurely, he would kill 100 Kamonians for every Jedi felled by troopers. Shaak Ti was pleased by the cloners sudden change of heart. Tyrannus, and by extension, Sideous, are in the dark. 

Obi-Wan frequently publicly confronts Palpatine about the troops citizen status, urging him make use of his emergency powers to grant them citizenship and full pay, with the option to leave the army should they so wish. 

Anakin manages to play off his avoidance of the Chancellor as disappointment in his perceived lack of dedication to anti-slavery efforts

Finally Palpatine gives in- regardless of what happens next, the troops will be looked after.

With 2/3rds of the troopers dechipped, Vaderkin is eager to kill Sideous again, but after several intense screaming matches and sparring sessions, the time travelers come to the agreement that even if they succeed in their duel, with things as they were, the perception of the Jedi military coop would cause mass civil unrest. The scattered sith apprentices, while individually weak, were more than capable of magnifying that fear and anger until the galaxy breaks. Darth Sideous wanted to ensure that if he couldn’t have the galaxy, no one would. 

(Vader knows this. Sideous enjoyed monologuing, and much of his plotting couldn’t be safely bragged about until after he had decisively won, leaving Vader as the unwilling receptacle for years of pent-up rants and self-satisfied gloats about the inevitability of his victory)

Continued Here

[illumilu]

“there’s only one bed” - hisoka morow x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? i roll with cringe. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this a bit too long, but who cares?? i have time, you have time and an incandescent loneliness to fill, so let’s get into it!

summary: you arrive at the hotel with hisoka, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. this is part one of a three-part series, with the adultrio. illumi and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! i’m afraid there’s no nsfw here... keep in mind it’s hisoka - i kept it as pg as possible... may be ooc i’m sorry :)

hisoka morow:

- you arrived at your hotel room, tired from the trip there, not quite sure what to expect. you stared at the single bed placed in the middle of the room, aghast. there must have been some kind of mistake. except there wasn’t. the room had been booked out of simplicity, with no specification on the number of beds, or anything else for that matter.

- and, of course, the man you had booked this room with was none other than hisoka morow.

- otherwise known as the most flirtatious man on earth.

- a little bit of backstory; as your strictly professional colleague, hisoka was always taunting you with his charming little phrases, treating you like his little toy whom he could mess around with.

- “oh, y/n! whatever will we do~?” 

- you sighed in frustration. out of all the people you could have been stuck with on this trip, it had to be hisoka.

- hisoka sighed and pouted - not from worry or anguish - but, rather, to mock you. you shot him a dirty look.

- “my my, y/n... why so serious? it’s not like i’ll do anything~”

- the playful lilt in his voice suggested otherwise.

- while hisoka went off to take a shower, you busied yourself with your latest objective; making sure he couldn’t pull anything. being inventive as you were, you gathered all the pillows from the bed (which, for some reason, there were many of), and built a wall separating the two sides of the mattress.

- you got changed promptly, and lay on the left side of the bed, waiting for hisoka to come back. however, his shower ran for longer than expected, and soon enough you felt yourself becoming drowsy.

- just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard hisoka’s voice come from the other side of the room.

- he chuckled. “y/n, what do we have here? your latest invention~?” he teased, ridiculing you.

- “i don’t trust you.” you stated plainly, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t see him from across the strangely high pillow wall you had made, but you could feel him smirking. 

- “...and for good reason, y/n..” 

- he extended his arm and lazily ejected his bungee gum to attach to the pillows, knocking them over in an instant. damn. you thought you had made a pretty good structure. 

- you rolled over lethargically to see him standing there; what a sight.

- honestly, you didn’t mind hisoka. it was just... he often became... annoying. as much as he irritated you, you had to admit he was quite pretty. striking amber eyes, streaky plum hair that fell across his face, soft lips and an overall impressive facial structure. not to mention his unique fashion sense that somehow accentuated his toned body. porcelain skin, with his childish paint, which was so often called on by you - “hisoka, do you put that on every goddamn morning?” - he was a fine man. 

- but, when that bastard opened his mouth.

- what a contrary tale.

- he waltzed closer to the bed and eventually sat down with his legs crossed, like a child in a classroom - except, he was staring down at you, who was scowling at him.

- “hisoka. don’t pull anything. i’m going to sleep.” you ordered, rolling to your other side so you were now facing away from him.

- “oh y/n... but how could i resist you~?” he joked, lying down on his back, unnecessarily close to you. you tensed up. 

- “hisoka.” you warned. except you didn’t really sound like you were warning anyone. some undertones in your voice urged you to let things happen - for an uncertain millisecond, thoughts of letting hisoka do what he wanted plagued your mind.

- the millisecond passed soon enough.

- the jester turned to his side, so you were both facing the same direction and began whispering in your ear with a smile. why was his voice so... smooth? so succinct and mellow? that was not the type of person he was. so why did you want to melt into him? he giggled childishly. 

- “so... y/n... you wouldn’t mind if i did-”

- “-this!”

- all of a sudden, hisoka was embracing you, cuddling you and shoving his idiotic face into the crook of your neck.

- “HISOKA, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET OFF ME.”

- “oh, but if you wanted me off, couldn’t you simply give me a little kick~?”

- bright idea, madman. bright idea.

- you kicked him in the stomach, which invoked no painful reaction, but prompted him to roll to the other side of the bed, letting you escape from his clutches. 

- “ah. y/n, that hurt~” he exhaled tiredly, feigning offence; it was more of a hum, which escaped his mouth like golden honey pouring from a dipper.

- “good. don’t come near me again.” 

- “if that’s what you want, darling~”

- “don’t call me that, morow.” you glowered.

- “how scary... good night, y/n.”

- despite trying to hide it underneath his complacent ego, hisoka was beginning to worry. the man was attracted to essentially everyone, but something pulled him closer to you especially. you had a certain magnetism about you that he found increasingly attractive. why did he find teasing you so... enjoyable? why did he long for you to reciprocate? thoughts such as these had been swarming his subconscious since the beginning of the trip. he had pushed away such speculation, for it didn’t suit him.

- a man like him, a man who killed so depravedly, a man whom nothing was known about, an enigma of sorts; surely a man like that didn’t deserve to truly love. 

- meanwhile, your brain was a motor engine; what had just happened, and why did you let it go on for so long? you had the reflexes of an expert nen user; so why did you let him stay there, nuzzling into you, before socking him in the gut?

- what a conundrum, for the both of you. looks like this cliche is reaching its peak, hm?

- you fell asleep soon enough; after all, the trip had been long and you were tired. not only physically, but also emotionally. hisoka wasn’t helping your case.

- hisoka himself often had trouble sleeping, which many people didn’t know. most nights, he just lay there solemnly, thinking of new card tricks or enticements for new victims.

- lately, however, he had been thinking of you.

- which he didn’t like at all.

- time passed as his mind whirred while he contemplated who you were, and why you made him so impressionable. suddenly, he heard something.

- he had his back turned to you but heard a shuffling of bedsheets. what time was it? 1am? 2am? he couldn’t tell, but he came to the conclusion that you moved around when you slept and left it at that.

- that was, until, he felt someone cling around his back and reach across his chest firmly, wrapping around his waist with their leg.

- that someone was you.

- if only you knew what you were doing, you would be appalled... maybe a little grateful... but for the most part, appalled.

- your soft breath brushed hisoka’s back delicately, making his nerves transform into an quivery yet arrogant smirk. your arm was wrapped around his chest and your leg was draped across his side. you were obviously deeply sleeping. he couldn’t see you from the way you were embracing his back, but he could have easily woken you up at any given moment.

- so, why didn’t he wake you up?

- maybe it was because he could tease you about it in the morning. yeah. that seemed reasonable. that seemed alike to what hisoka would usually do.

- or maybe it was something else, something he didn’t want to come to terms with, something panging within his heart, something festering inside of him, something that was a victim to his ignorance of emotion. 

- much like he had done to you earlier, you burrowed into his shoulder, sighing contentedly, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

- blissfully unaware of the way you were ruling over hisoka, the way you were confusing him and making his emotions a tumultuous mess.

- surprisingly, you clinging to him helped him sleep, and within 15 minutes, hisoka was out like a light. though neither of you were conscious enough to experience it, those few hours you spent embracing each other felt tranquil. it almost felt normal, or like something that should have happened long ago, but never did.

- as peaceful as those hours were, the moment you woke up, everything crumbled into chaos. complete and utter mayhem - at least, on your part.

- you woke up calmly enough, as one usually does, without realising where you were or what you were doing. but, as soon as you registered that you weren’t hugging a pillow, but in fact a person, your reflexes triggered and you abruptly let go, jolting backwards and upright.

- oh my god. 

- not just a person.

- hisoka morow.

- you stared at him dozing away, like the little jerk he was.

- what had he done to you? had he put you under some spell? no, that wouldn’t make sense. he was a transmuter, not a manipulator. the bastard probably didn’t even know how to manipulate. then, what was it? was it his dumb bungee gum? your mind was racing 100 miles per hour, so you sat on the left side of the bed, sullen and confused.

- your side of the bed. the left side. the side you had so protectively proclaimed as “your side”. yet there you had been, on his side of the bed, cuddling him? what type of sorcery had he used to make you embrace him so passionately? 

- facing the wall, you rationalised yourself. hisoka wouldn’t have done anything, right? but neither would you. right? right?

- “awake, are we?” 

- hisoka interrupted your disarray of thoughts. you stood up and turned to look at him. he was propped up on the header of the bed, staring at you composedly. with those amber eyes. what was he on? why was he doing this to you?

- “you...” you began accusing him but couldn’t finish. looking at hisoka, he seemed... well-rested for once. did he even know what had happened? was he waiting for you to admit something?

- “i...? i what, y/n? use your words~” he cooed mischievously.

- oh, the jackass. he definitely knew.

- you glared at him, unable to compile your thoughts into words. you watched as he stood up and walked toward you, until he was standing opposite you, gazing into your eyes. he smiled knowingly at you, causing an surge of emotions to rush up your throat, inciting you to say something, to do something, anything. 

- “did you...”

- “no, y/n. it was you.” he simpered.

- oh.

- he raised his hand and pat you on the head, a sly and righteous smirk ceasing to wipe off his lips. he left to the bathroom, leaving you standing there, mouth agape, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. or perhaps, better said, in confusion. when did you start clinging to people like that? 

- why... did you feel so at home? when you first woke up, something had been different. some sort of warmth had enveloped you, in your heart. it had felt nice to have someone to lie close to. 

- in the meantime, hisoka was also seriously mulling over his emotions for you. so many questions invaded his mind, each popping up quicker than the last had been answered. 

- sometimes, he felt as if it would be better to keep everything about you tucked away. underneath his charming, intelligent mask was years of emotion and love and hatred and all things deemed merely human, but too human for him to ever “deserve”.

- as the jester stared at his dazed reflection in the cheap hotel mirror, he came to this conclusion; it wasn’t a matter of what he deserved, or his entitlement. he had to confront the obvious truth that had been bugging him for so long.

- he would tell you he loved you, but not for himself. he would do it for you.

- let’s just say this was the start of something new.

hey so i thought it’d also be good to mention that this is my first time writing a fic on here... to be honest, it’s more the format of a drabble, but i hope you enjoyed! the word count was 2084 words, so i’m super sorry for rambling on too much - i feel like i got a little too deep into hisoka’s character at the end there. illumi’s and chrollo’s version will be coming when i have the time!

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :) 

[me1ancho1y-b1iss]

Her Robin and His Little Ladybug Ch. 2

 Ao3                  Chapter 1          Chapter 2 

As soon as Marinette spoke it set off absolute chaos, everyone started talking at once, asking questions and demanding answers from the small girl. Eventually Bruce, now as Batman, spoke up. 

“ENOUGH.”  Bruce demanded of everyone in the room. 

Silence was all that remained where if a pin was dropped it could be heard. Both parties, Marinette and the bats stared at each other, until Bruce finally spoke again. 

“Who are you?” he asked Marinette. 

“I believe I asked a question first” Marinette smarted back. Jason snorted as Damian glared at her. 

“Answer our questions harlot.” Damian spoke as he glared at her. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” 

Dick or rather Nightwing now, spoke next. “Come on baby bird, be nice, we don't know her and she doesn’t look like she knows us.” 

“That’s exactly the point Grayson! We don’t know her, or how she appeared in the cave!” Damian grimaced as he glanced back at Dick. 

“Codenames, baby bird.” Dick muttered 

Hi! I’m Nightwing! OMG, you're so cute and tiny! You're in the batcave, this is Robin, that's Red Hood, over there is Red Robin, standing there with the death glare is Batman, and finally sitting at the batcomputer in the wheelchair is Oracle!”  

“Uhh… Hi.” Marinette waved. Dick visibly cooed at her while the rest of the bats just stood there. 

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m from Paris, France.” She said as if that would answer all their  questions. 

Realization spread on Bruce's face as he realized what happened. He realized that this must be the work of the Akumas the league was investigating. 

“You said you’re from Paris, correct? Batman asked Marinette. At her nod he continued. “So this must be the work of an Akuma” 

Marinette nodded. “The last thing I heard before I was transported here was a loud voice yelling, that people should treasure their relationships and that people should be able to have soulmates… or something like that, I don't really know, I wasn’t really paying attention as I was suddenly transported here with no warning.” she muttered the last part under breath but the bats still heard her. 

After around five seconds of total silence, Jason started cackling loudly. “You, tiny little pixie is apparently Demon Spawn’s soulmate. Yeah, I doubt that…” Jason spoke, and started laughing again. 

After Jason said that, all of the rest of the bats realized what she said and started snickering, except for Bruce and Damian, who just stood in front of Marinette with his mouth wide open gaping at her. 

Dick asked a question next. “Wait, what’s an Akuma, and if it's powerful enough to actually locate someone’s soulmate and send them here, Why doesn’t the league know about this? Dick asked, looking back at Bruce. 

“The league is aware of the situation. It’s on a need to know basis, and only certain members are aware. Wonder Women, Superman, Aqua Man and myself are the ones aware as the situation is extremely delicate and dangerous. 

Paris has their own heros, that have been handling the situation extremely well and there has been no need to interfere. Wonder Woman has gone out and has spoken to the heroes. They are aware that if they need any help that can contact the justice league and we will send out a member to help aid them.” 

When Bruce was done speaking, the rest of the bats were sort of shocked they weren’t aware of anything happening Paris this year or any year at all. 

Barbara immediately put it into the Batcomputer and pulled up one of Marinette’s old fights. As Marinette watched the fight with the rest of the bat’s, she cringed. She remembered the fight, perhaps she remembered it too well. It was her third battle with Evillustrator. Nathaniel managed to remember that he could draw whatever he wanted. 

He turned all of Paris into a war zone. He managed to draw himself an all powerful army with a stock supply of weapons. The battle lasted almost a full day and was one of the most lethal with over 1 million dead. The second deadliest behind Syren. 

As the video ended all the people in the room turned to marinette with a shocked look on their faces. 

Dick was the first to speak. “You deal with this all the time?” he whispered in a scared tone 

“Usually they’re not that bad. That was the second deadliest attack Paris ever had, the first being Syren. All of the effects of the damage is reversed by the ‘miraculous ladybug,’ Ladybug, the main hero announces that after she broke the object where the akuma was hidden. As soon as she throws up her ‘lucky charm’ and says that phrase all damage from the attack gets reversed.” 

“What a Lucky charm? You said it helps clear all the damage, so what does it do?” Tim spoke next. 

Marinette nodded as she said, “ The Lucky Charm is something that Ladybug calls on during the battle. It’s usually just a seemingly random object, but as soon as she calls on it the battle usually doesn’t last any longer than three minutes.” 

“What are the other heroes' powers?” Tim asked again. 

“Chat Noir has the power of destruction, just as ladybug has the power of creation. All Chat Noir has to do is simply say ‘cataclysm’ and he's able to destroy anything he touches.” 

Again all the bats, except for Batman himself, started at Marinette, with wide eyes. 

“How old are the heroes’ because to me they don’t look to be any older than the demon spawn’s age. Also how long has this been going on? Jason asked of Marinette, in a demanding tone. 

“All anyone can do is speculate the ages, due to the magic, but many say they have to be around 18 - 20 years old.” Marinette said in a rather confident voice

“And how long has this been happening?” Jason asked again in a tone that made Marinette take an unconscious step back. 

“A-about four years.” Marinette said, with her voice trembling a little bit. 

“So the heroes would have been about 13- 15 give or take when they first started given the assumptions are correct…?” 

At her nod, Jason started pacing back and forth yelling, “FUCKING HELL, what the fuck they’re kids, they were babies when they started and they have to deal with the saving the fucking world every fucking week. I admit I was young too when I started, but it was my own choice and I got FUCKING killed for it!” 

‘That’s why he has such a tainted soul, it absolutely reeks of destruction and creation magic, I’ll have to talk to Tikki later to see if we can get rid of it’ Marinette thought wisely. 

“B, why in the everloving hell did you let fucking kids fight in a goddamn war alone?!” Jason yelled at Bruce while still pacing the floor of the batcave. 

“Hood, they are only one able to fight in these battle, no matter what we do, we would not be able to fight, the best we do is investigate the villain. 

Hawkmoth, the super terrorist, is the one creating the akamus. We find him, we stop the akumas.”

“You mean we just sit here while these kids are out fighting and there’s absolutely nothing we can do?” Tim spoke up, finally finding the courage to speak. 

Batman simply shook his head.

A/N: ok, so like I have five chapters of this posted on ao3 if you want to read it there, (im taking a minute to post it on tumblr bc im lazy. ok) Also I swear I’m working on chapter 6, i'm just stuck on a particular scene and its taking a minute to figure out how I want to transition. on a side note this fic is honestly just something that my brain decided it would be a good idea to write at 2am so like don't expect too much.  (sorry for the rant)

Taglist: (people asked in the last chapter to add them, so if you want to be added just ask. I probably wont respond, maybe, but I will definitely add you) 

@alyssadeliv @yannowhatigiveup @sekhmet5

[charincharge]

I Don’t Want To Wait, twenty-one

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts:

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Funny thing about that is I don’t know when the fuck I asked you.”

“Please don’t do this.”

Aelin stood on practically numb legs as the car pulled up to the frat house. The cold Terrasen winds had started up, and she was practically a block of ice when she opened the car door.

Thank gods her dad had already turned up the heat.

“Hey…” she said slowly, and Rhoe breathed out a long, steady breath before turning to his daughter.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Where’s Aedion?” he asked, looking around, and Aelin shrugged.

“With his boyfriend. I lost track of him.”

Rhoe frowned. “That boy is going to get a piece of my mind…” He sighed. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea, to let you go off to college. And if that irresponsible boy let anything happen to you, I’ll murder him myself.”

“Dad?” she asked nervously. “I’m okay. Can you just take me to my spot?”

“Aelin, it’s after midnight,�� he sighed.

“Please?” she begged, “I just… please?”

She could tell her wanted to ask more, but he nodded tersely and put the car into gear. She was grateful that he let them slip into silence, but she could feel the tension with every second she remained closed-lipped.

As the car creaked to a half in front of Maeve’s, Rhoe finally broke.

“Aelin,” he said seriously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Aelin nodded, biting her lip and looking up toward the sky out the window.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

Rhoe cleared his throat and tugged at his hair, clearly uncomfortable in the small car so wrought with tension. He’d been silent the entire ride back to town, and Aelin was grateful for it. Her heart was heavy and any alcohol that had been muddling her brain had been replaced with a low aching throb. She really just wanted to burrito herself in her thick blankets under the stars and have a good cry where no one could hear her.

She bit her lip and a tear welled at the corner of her eye, rolling onto her cheek with a thick plop.

“Aelin,” her dad repeated calmly. “Did someone… make you do something you didn’t want to?” he asked nervously, and Aelin whipped her head toward her concerned father. His eyes were narrowed carefully, devoid of any judgment, and his breath was steady, but she could see the tension roiling beneath his large firefighters’ muscles.

“No!” she assured him. “No.” She watched as he exhaled, the anger slipping from his shoulders as she continued. “The only person who tried to make me doing something I didn’t want to was me,” she admitted. “But I managed to stop her before she did something she really regretted.”

Rhoe nodded, almost imperceptibly, his chin lowering and raising back up as the usual glimmer reappeared in his bright eyes. “Impressive you shut her up,” he said with a laugh. “She’s kind of pushy,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Dad…” At that, Aelin finally laughed herself. And it unleashed the next round of tears, sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto Aedion’s sweatshirt.

Rhoe sighed as he brought his hand up to his face, trying to wipe the distress away from his eyes. She knew crying girls made him uncomfortable. “Please let’s go back home.” He stared at her. “It’s freezing cold.”

But Aelin waved him off. “There are heaters up there,” she reassured him. “I’ll be fine.” He looked at her dubiously, which, considering the neverending stream of tears running down her cheeks, he had every right to. “I’ll be fine!” she laughed thickly through her tears. “I just need a good, long cry where no one can hear me.” She paused and crinkled her nose. “And to text Rowan to delete his voicemail.”

Rhoe cringed. “That kind of night, huh?”

Aelin shook her head, laughing harder through her tears. “Oh my god. I should do that immediately…”

She pulled out her phone, which had remained in the hoodie pocket since she called her dad two hours ago. It beeped in her hand and faded to black. She shook it, as if that would somehow bring it back to life. But it was no use. The phone was dead.

“Motherfucker!” she shouted, earning a glare from Rhoe. “Sorry,” she sighed. “It died.”

“I’m sure Rowan’s asleep anyway,” her dad suggested. “You can text him in the morning and smooth everything over.”

Aelin looked conflicted. She was sure Rowan was asleep. It was after 2am. She’d just have to be sure to wake up extra early and make sure he knew that nothing had happened.

Rhoe raised a dark brow. “Or I could break into his house and steal his phone while he’s sleeping?”

Aelin’s heart warmed for her dad, the person she could count on for anything, as she shook her head.

“Thank you,” she said, tears starting to form again. “For everything.”

“I told you,” he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Any time. Anywhere. No matter what. If you need me, I’ll come.”

Aelin leaned over the console and gave her dad a quick squeeze before assuring him that she would be home first thing in the morning.

She opened the car door and waved him goodbye, shivering as the winter winds whipped through her thin sweatshirt and chilled her to the core. She rushed to the keypad and entered the code, relishing in the stale heat that hit her as the door clicked open.

She rummaged through the dark to make her way behind the counter, wondering if there was anything leftover to fill her grumbling stomach. No wonder she’d gotten so drunk so fast, Aelin thought. She couldn’t even remember the last time she ate. Luckily, there was a piece of apple pie with her name literally on it. She knew it would have been drastically improved by heating it up, but she was too hungry to wait the extra minute. She shoved the applely goodness into her mouth quickly, finishing the whole piece in four large bites.

She hummed happily and made her way to the back staircase, climbing slowly and letting the food settle as she made her way to the roof, feeling remarkably better already. Maybe she wouldn’t need that cry after all. Maybe she’d fall right to sleep under the stars, comforted by her favorite place in the world.

But as she pushed the roof door open, she froze like a block of ice. She held her breath as two silhouettes came into focus, just barely lit by the strand of twinkle lights and reddish orange heaters on the ground.

She blinked as their voices wafted across the roof, her heart pounding with each word as she struggled to figure out what was happening.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, shaking his head. He sighed, taking a step towards someone else, their silhouettes merging into one giant shadow as Rowan wrapped his arms around them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyria’s too-sweet voice replied, cutting into Aelin like a dagger. What the hell was she doing up here?

“We’ll be fine,” Lyria replied, lifting herself onto her toes and pressing a soft kiss against Rowan’s lips, and Aelin shook her head again. Still not processing, until Rowan leaned down and struggled to straighten the blankets which were a mess on the floor. Aelin’s eyes flashed between the mess of blankets, and Rowan and Lyria, who watched him with her arms crossed, and suddenly Aelin thought she was going to be sick.

Because it seemed that her fears weren’t unfounded. That Rowan had lied to her. Had been lying to her. All in her sacred spot. The one spot he knew she wouldn’t be at tonight.

It was bad enough that he had lied to her, but to bring Lyria here…

She bit her lip so hard her tooth pierced through the skin, a small dribble of blood running into her mouth, making her nauseous.

“Let me drive you home, at least?” Rowan asked from his crouched spot, arranging the blankets how they’d been before he’d moved them. Lyria must have nodded, because he stood suddenly and smiled guiltily. “And let’s go quickly because if Aelin knew you were up here, she’d…”

“Freak the fuck out?” Lyria teased.

“Understatement, definitely,” Rowan said, ushering Lyria toward the door.

“So, what’s the deal with her ‘special spot’?” Lyria asked, and Aelin watched the exact second Rowan spotted her, because his face paled in the moonlight, and he rushed toward her.

“Aelin?” he said her name, confused and urgent, but Aelin couldn’t hear him. All she could hear was her own stupidity mocking her over and over again. Her inner-self saying, “I TOLD YOU SO.” Screaming it at the top of her lungs. Calling her names for being too much of a coward to go through with having sex with Sam. Because Rowan wasn’t a coward. He was just an asshole. “What are you…?”

“No,” Aelin interrupted with a too steady voice. “I want to hear what you have to say. What is the deal with my special spot? My special spot where you bring your girlfriend to have sex?!” Her voice rose in pitch as she shouted at him. “Please, I want to hear you tell your girlfriend what a loser I am,” she sniffled. “I guess you didn’t have time to her that I’m just an immature child who needs a special place to go because her mommy left her while you were fucking her.”

“Aelin, Gods no,” he shook his head. “You have the wrong idea, that’s not what—"

“How could you?” She took a step toward him. She expected him to move back, but he didn’t. He stood there, looking pained, his brow crinkled as he tried to come up with the words. She took another step forward and shoved his chest. He stumbled backwards at the force, but she didn’t stop. She shoved him again and again, repeating the words, “How could you?!” until her voice was hoarse. “I trusted you,” she said, her voice cracking over the last word, causing Rowan to snap as he stumbled over the pile of blankets.

“That’s not what happened!” Rowan finally shouted back, his green eyes swirling with upset. “If you would just listen to me,” he pleaded, before steadying himself. “I got your voicemail, and I freaked out, so I came up here—”

“To get revenge?” Aelin cried in earnest now, the tears that had been on the verge of pouring out of her before making a full appearance. “Well, congrats.” She threw her arms up. “I feel betrayed.”

“No!” Rowan yelled. “I wouldn’t do that,” he frowned. “Come on. You know me.”

Aelin leaned down and grabbed the closest thing to her, a book she’d discarded haphazardly the other night after work. She chucked at Rowan, and the pages hit him square in the chest.

“No, I don’t!” she screeched as she reached for another book to throw at him, anything to throw at him, hit him and hurt him like he’d hurt her. “I clearly don’t know you at all.”

“Ace…” he said, dejected, and his tone was enough to cut her straight to the bone.

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, and Rowan recoiled, looking like he’d been shot. “You lost that right to call me that the second you brought someone up here.” He glanced at Lyria, who was still waiting by the door, and Aelin felt her anger explode.

“Don’t look at her!” Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it might explode. She was going to be sick. She was sure of it. “You should hear the names they’ve called me,” she shook her head, tears coming in earnest. “Talking about me behind my back.” She shuddered. “I knew they were assholes, but I didn’t think you’d be one, too.”

Rowan struggled not to look over Aelin’s shoulder as Lyria stepped closer. “Aelin,” she drawled in that sickly sweet voice that Aelin hated so much. “I would never talk badly about you. I know how much you mean to Rowan.”

Aelin glared, her temper rising faster than she knew what to do with. “The funny thing about that is I can’t remember when the fuck I asked you?” she snapped.

“At least let her defend herself!” Rowan shouted, and Aelin lost any semblance of balance, her temper swirling out of control as she screamed.

“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!” she threw whatever she could at the couple, a blanket, a pillow, another book. Tearing apart her special spot until it looked as if a hurricane had gone through it.

Lyria had the decency to flinch and retreat. “I’m gonna…” she pointed toward the door, and Rowan nodded. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The door creaked shut as Lyria clambered down the stairs, the soft pitter patter of her steps the only sound other than Aelin’s sniffling.

“Aren’t you going to chase after her?” Aelin asked coldly, and Rowan shook his head again.

“No, I’m not leaving until you hear me out,” he began. “I need to explain to you that this wasn’t what it looked like. Nothing happened, and—”

But Aelin was finished. She looked at the boy in front of her, the boy who she had once known what every crooked smile, every blink of his blonde lashes, every soft gesture and different laugh had meant, now a complete stranger. A stranger who would willingly lie to her face and hurt her like this.

She took in a shaky breath and let out a choked sob.

“Something did happen, Ro,” she said softly. “Somewhere along the way, we just… fell apart.” She wiped at the hot silent tears that caked her cheeks. “Because the Rowan I know would never have brought anyone up here. Ever. Period. No matter what.”

“It was an accident!”

Aelin laughed sadly. “An accident? Do you think I’m stupid, Rowan?!” she sighed. “Lyria accidentally figured out Maeve’s security code and accidentally climbed up here all by herself?”

“Well, not exactly, but—”

Aelin sniffed loudly, “Or was it just an accident that I found you?” She shook her head at Rowan’s pained expression. Something inside of her broke. “And you can stand there and lie to my face, but I don’t have to listen.” She breathed in a shaky breath. “I can’t do this anymore, Rowan. I’m so tired.”

Rowan took a step forward, but Aelin stepped back, keeping the same distance between them, holding her hand up, and she watched as Rowan’s face crinkled, his frown prominent as he furrowed his brow.

“Please don’t do this,” he begged, but Aelin could only shake her head and cry more silent tears. Her anger had dissipated as quickly as it’d come on, and now all she was left with was a sinking hole of dejection. “I just broke up with Lyria.”

“You called her up here to break up with her?” Aelin laughed sadly. “Please, Rowan. You can come up with a better lie than that.”

He took another step forward, and Aelin’s shoulders slumped under the weight of her sadness. He took the opportunity to close the gap between them, his arms wrapped around her waist, causing her to shiver.

“I’m not lying to you, damnit, Aelin.”

“Let me go,” she mumbled, though internally she relished the feeling of his palms on her back. She let the heat seep through the fabric of Aedion’s sweatshirt, leaning back slightly into his touch as she lifted her chin.

“I can’t,” he said softly. “You’re my best friend,” he whispered resolutely. And it broke her all over again. All the times he’d said those words she’d heard the underlying ‘I love you.’ But it had disappeared as soon as she’d heard Lyria’s voice on her roof.

“I hate you,” she breathed, stepping out of his stunned arms. They dropped to his sides as she turned on her heel, her vision blurred by her tears as she ran back down the stairs, tearing out of Maeve’s as quickly as she could. She could never go up there again. Her safe place was ruined. Her friendship with Rowan was ruined. Everything was ruined.

It only took Aelin until the end of the block to hunch over and vomit. She braced herself against a telephone pole, as she heaved up the barely digested bites of apple pie, cloyingly sweet and disgusting in her mouth. She leaned over again, expelling the contents of her stomach, until there was nothing left. She spat and wiped at her mouth, disgusted with herself for becoming this pathetic mess of a person.

“Aelin,” Rowan called out his car window, pulling up beside her. “Please, just get in the car.”

But she shook her head and marched forward, despite the small glittering snowflakes which started to fall from the dark October sky and brush against her bare legs.

“You’re going to get sick in that outfit,” Rowan chastised. “Whoever’s sweatshirt that is isn’t warm enough,” he warned, and Aelin tipped her head back and laughed.

“Calling me a whore now, too, are we?” she asked as she ploughed forward, ignoring the slow roll of jeep tires beside her. “I knew it was only a matter of time…”

“What? Aelin, no, I would never call you a whore.”

“Why not?” she spat. “You’ve called me a bitch.” She chuckled with absolutely no humor. “I let that one slide, you know. Because the whole Lyria thing was so new, and I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

She felt her hot tears start up against the cold wind of the night and shuddered.

“I let so much slide for you, and you’ve made me feel like shit, Ro.” She breathed, angry again. “Like shit. I let your girlfriend and her friends call me a dyke and a slut, but I never breathed a word. I just took it. Like some idiot.”

She wiped at her tears, trudging forward on numbing legs as she continued forward, turning onto her street.

“But I’m not going to be an idiot anymore.” She laughed to herself. “I could have slept with someone tonight. But I didn’t. Because I convinced myself…” She shook her head, sniffling loudly, her tears turning to icicles on her wind-chapped skin. “And now it doesn’t even matter,” she said, resolute. “Because I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”

She ignored his protests as she fumbled with the flowerpot next to the door, her frozen fingers struggling to get the spare key into the door.

She slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting the tears pour down her cheeks again, now that she was in the safety of her home. But a knock at the door against her back came too quickly.

The noise started the sleeping man on the couch – he clearly hadn’t made it very far after picking her up – and she watched as Rhoe blinked against the light, taking in his shivering, sobbing daughter.

“Aelin?” he rushed to her, rubbing his arms up and down her sleeves as she leaned into his warm, sleep-laden chest.

“Daddy,” she cried softly. His arms tightened around her shoulders as Rowan’s voice filtered through the door.

“AELIN!” he cried, and she was relieved when her dad shoved her behind him and swung open the door. Rowan’s hand was raised mid-knock, and in the light of their front hall she could see that Rowan’s cheeks were wet and splotchy with tears too. “Rhoe,” he said, quieting his voice immediately. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to talk to Aelin.”

“No you don’t,” Rhoe’s voice said in a tone that Aelin hadn’t heard him use with Rowan, maybe ever.

“Rhoe, I…” He tried to peer around Rhoe’s shoulders, but Aelin cringed. “Please, I just…”

“Go home, Rowan,” Rhoe’s deep voice echoed into the night. Rowan opened his mouth to protest, and Aelin felt her dad lean forward, challenging the boy in front of him to say something. “It’s the middle of the night, son. I don’t want to wake up your Aunt, but I will.”

Rowan opened his mouth again, but he had the good sense to shut it and nod. Rhoe could be extremely terrifying if he wanted to be.

“Apologies, sir,” Rowan said with a formality that shocked Aelin. “I’ll go home now.”

“Thank you,” Rhoe replied. Aelin wished she could see if he were smiling or not.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” Rowan said, she was sure for her benefit as well as her father’s, and it made her want to scream in retaliation, but she was far too cold and exhausted to begin again.

“I’m sure you will,” Rhoe said, starting to close the door. “But Rowan?” he added. “Not too early.”

“Yes, sir,” Rowan said with that same too-formal tone.

And Aelin finally released a breath when her dad shut the door behind him. They both listened to Rowan’s car door close and the jeep take off before Aelin took a step out of her dad’s grasp. She wiped at her cheeks again.

Rhoe cleared his throat as he took in her reddened face and pink legs. “I thought you were safe until morning.”

“So did I,” Aelin said sadly. Rhoe’s brow raised in question, and Aelin shook her head in return. She was hoping her dad wouldn’t press further, but the man wasa clearing awaiting some kind of explanation for the insanity of his evening. There was only so much he could take.

“Rowan and Lyria were… together. In my spot. And we got into a big, overdue fight. And then I walked home.” She paused. “Rowan followed me, obviously.”

“Okay,” Rhoe said slowly, processing the state of his daughter. But he didn’t ask any follow ups, seemingly satisfied, for now, at least.

“Dad?” He raised an eyebrow at her soft tone. “When Rowan comes back, I don’t want to talk to him. Not tomorrow, not the next day, not the next week, not the next year. We’re not friends anymore. Is that okay?” she asked, knowing that the boy Rhoe turned away was practically his son.

“Whatever you want, Fireheart,” he said, and Aelin exhaled, relieved.

“I kind of just want to take a hot shower,” Aelin said, and Rhoe’s face melted as he wrapped her in a giant hug again, his arms running up and down her back, trying to soak some warmth into her skin.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he sighed. “You’re practically an ice cube. Walking home during the first snow of the season…”

He shook his head as a flurry of flakes swirled past their window.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, but her dad shook his head as he led her upstairs and cracked open her bedroom door. He led her across her darkened room and flipped on the light to her bathroom, turning up the shower to the hottest setting.

He turned back to Aelin and frowned.

“You know I’ve always had a soft spot for Rowan,” Rhoe said, and Aelin felt her stomach clench nervously. “But, if you’re not friends with him anymore, then neither am I. Team Aelin, one hundred percent.”

Tears welled in her eyes again at her dad’s words. She didn’t know how much she needed to hear them.

“I love you,” he said as he left her to her shower. “Get some sleep, Fireheart.” He paused. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Aelin stripped quickly and made her way into the steaming shower, blinking away the rivulets of glitter and makeup that still caked her skin from a party that felt like a lifetime ago. The scalding water prickled her icy skin, thawing her quickly, and Aelin let her shaky legs collapse, unable to stand anymore. Sitting on the wet porcelain of her tub floor, she brought her knees into her chest and let her head hang. But no matter how hot the water ran or how long she sat there, she couldn’t scrub the night off her. She’d been hurt more than she could bear in a single evening. She’d thought that Sam would be the worst of it, but that was nothing compared to the pain Rowan had caused her tonight. She’d lost her best friend. Forever.

~*~

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[burntmcnuggies]

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*

[thecreativitygeek]

Put It Down | Jack Kelly x Reader

Warnings: Self harm, depression, abuse.

Summary: Jack walks in during a mental breakdown.

Prompt: (47) You better put that knife (I'm using the word blade) down right now. (103) Calm down. You're scaring me.

You were behind.

You were behind on everything.

Your dad had kicked you out of the house just a few weeks ago. You had been a Newsie for years to help pay the bills every since your mom died, so your dad had been taking most of the money you made for a while. Still, you had a place to sleep.

He had gotten so fed up with you though, that he kicked you out. You still went back every night to give him about 70% of the money you were making, but he didn't give you food, and he didn't let you sleep there anymore either.

And you were behind on rent now.

The newsies hadn't even hesitated to let you move into the lodging house, and Mr. Kloppman had been so kind about it too.

Lots of the newsies could barely afford rent even keeping everything they made. You had managed to scrape together enough for the past month with your savings and what your dad had let you keep, but you weren't so sure about this month.

This led to you to doing the only thing you knew to do when things became stressful.

Grabbing the small blade out of your bag, you quietly slipped out of bed at 2am, and made your way to the common area.

There was still an abundance of cards lying out on the table from last night's intense gambling match, courtesy of the one and only Race, but all of the chairs had been set back up after a few of the boys stormed out in mock frustration.

You leaned against the far wall to the right of the door, and slid all the way down, resting you head against the wood and praying your hair wouldn't get ridiculously tangled.

You could feel your breathing begin to quicken as you dug your fingers into your hair, and you immediately grabbed the blade that you had let drop to the floor.

You started blindly cutting the skin on your arm, not caring where. They didn't form any sort of word or pattern, you just let it go. Every time a particularly painful or stressful thought popped into your mind, you couldn't help but notice how the cut that came after it seemed slightly more painful than the rest.

You could barely see through the tears collecting in your eyes as you looked down at your arm, a sort of magical feeling washing over you as you felt your mental clarity slip completely.

It was just you, your tears, and your blade.

This was why you hadn't even noticed when someone made their way in, freezing in pure shock at the sight of you making mark after mark on your arm.

"Y/N? Y/N stop!" The familiar voice of Jack Kelly snapped you out of your daze, and a panicked expression took over your features as you realized you had been stupid enough to get caught.

Jack half ran over to you to try and pull the one thing that had kept you grounded away from you, but you quickly scrambled to your feet, and backed away from him.

"What are you doing???"

"Jack I promise this isn't what it looks like." You mentally cringed at the words coming out of your mouth. "I promise."

"It's not? Then what is it Y/N?" Jack half-shouted, not wanting to wake the others. "Cause to me it looked like you were using that stupid blade to slice your wrists open!"

"Jack please calm down. You're scaring me." You pleaded, backing up a little bit and cringing at the way you sounded like you were about to cry.... even though you were already crying.

"Y/N I swear to God you better put that blade down right now." Jack said, taking a few steps forward. Everything inside of you screamed for you to back away, open the door and run, but you were frozen. You were stuck where you were and you couldn't move.

"Put it down."

You almost wanted to set the blade down. To collapse and just start sobbing. Everything in your life was already falling apart, and now you had been stupid enough to let yourself get caught doing the one thing that brought you any sort of relief.

Jack sighed, and stepped forward, never taking his eyes off of you. You refused to look up at him though, keeping your eye fixated on the ground.

The two of you were practically pressed against each other as Jack reached down and pried the blade out of your hands.

Neither of you said anything. You both just stood there, doing nothing other than waiting to see what the other would do next.

You heard Jack sigh.

"Please Y/N, just look at me." He said, defeated. You slowly turned your head up to see him.

You continued staring at each other, a few stray tears falling out of your eyes.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

[writingssummit]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢'𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

song listened to while writing this: line without a hook.

an aone x g/n reader

content: aone and tackling new feelings towards reader, fluff.

warnings: small amount of angst if you squint.

word count: 1.6k words

a/n: i heard this song play on spotify at like 2am, felt compelled to write for either aone or asahi, and went with our kind, gentle giant <3 it’s slightly different from the actual meaning, but the song was just what made this idea pop into my head. i started but fell asleep at 3 LOL, so I finished it up just now :> i hope you enjoy !

aone isn’t good at expressing himself, and he doesn’t often speak. settling for stiff hand movements or staring, bowing, you get the gist. respectfully silent.

you’re both friends, mostly by chance, because you ended up being seated next to him in class.

you were the talker, he listened.

you’d even walk with him to his practices and just ramble on and on about whatever interested you that day.

you’d even stay during those practices if his coach allowed it.

it was at a point where koganegawa asked aone if you both were together.

now, he’s inexperienced with love, very very inexperienced. 

so when he was asked this, he froze in his spot. thrown off, if you will. like, baby doesn’t know how to respond.

but there’s obviously something there.

your friendship with the very tall middle blocker was something unexpected and unlikely, those around you both could never really wrap their heads around the idea. the height difference for one, why weren’t you intimidated? and it had all started with a seating arrangement.

you both were complete opposites. while aone preferred to stay quiet, you liked to talk. you filled the silence between you both, which was just fine with him. if anything, he was somewhat used to it, since he was around koganegawa a lot. not to mention he was friends with a certain #10.

“and it’s amazing to think he did it like that! don’t you think, aone?” you hold a fist in the air, clenching it for dramatic effect. he gave a small nod, and you grinned. “i thought so. say, you have practice again today, right? do you think i could stay and watch? it’s always so cool to see you block the balls like this!” you mimic the blocking motions you occasionally saw when they were in their gym. while you knew little of the game, the plays and games were intriguing enough to you to hold your interest. you even started to pick up on a few things here and there. not to mention that aone was also there. it was force of habit at this point, you were almost always around with him.

a quick glance down at you was all you needed. despite his intense looks, you had a vague understanding of what they meant. you had to be somewhat able to read him if you were to have communication of sorts. you felt your heart swell with happiness. all that was left was to get his coach’s permission, and then you could spectate again!

“haven’t you been neglecting your club?”

you cringe at coach oiwake’s question, fingers twitching as you stood by the entrance with your white haired friend. 

“w-well..you see-”

. . .

“fine.” 

“thank you so much!” you thanked the coach profusely, you thought for sure that he would’ve just sent you well on your way.

koganegawa was already inside the gym at that point, like many of his other teammates, noticing that you had come again. he slapped aone on the back with a face that could only be described as his signature look.

“l/n-chan is back again, huh? this is the third time this week, right? right? that’s a lot!” aone only looked back at you, who was settling down off to the side to watch them all, and then back at his friend.

“is it..? a lot.” he didn’t think much about it, but it was true. you did stay longer just to be here, and quite frequently, too. his coach had also mentioned that you were skipping club.

“mm, yeah! l/n keeps missing their own club, i heard. weird, right? i know we’re cool but that’s what games are for!” the energetic boy clenched and un-clenched his fists at shoulder height, sparkling. he paused, and then there was a shift in his energy. he gave aone a side eye, something new to him. 

“is l/n your s/o? is that why they’re always here? that would make a lot of sense!” 

and that was when aone froze up.

completely empty, besides the new thought that just entered his brain. he flushed unbeknownst to him, causing his own teammates to freak out. aone never blushed, this was strange for those witnessing.

and this continued throughout practice.

aone was unfocused, head empty at that point. every time he tried to shake it off, he was back at square one not long after. he was constantly apologizing to the people he was teaming with, all while you watched, oblivious to whatever was going on inside of your friend’s head.

because even though he seemed to be off today, aone was always talented in your eyes. always would be. he might’ve read those blocks wrong here and there today, but everybody makes mistakes. 

by the time practice was over for the day, it was late. you were dozing off against the wall, snoring a little because you had gotten a little tired after the day. 

which left somebody to have to wake you up. 

and aone of course did it himself. you woke up, blinking lazily when you felt a gentle nudge at your shoulder. you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes, and smiled softly when you saw it was him.

“aone, is it over?”

“Mm.”

“ahhh, dang. i missed a lot. let’s get going then, if you’re all ready.” you get yourself up with the help of his hands, patting them in appreciation once you were standing.

nothing went unnoticed by aone anymore when it came to you now. koganegawa’s words were on loop whenever he just so much as looked in your general direction. he would catch himself looking away now when you looked back at him, too nervous to hold any form of eye-contact. which was very much unlike him.

you thought that he was mad at you, which made you nervous in return.

a week or so went by, and then another.

now you were quiet when you walked with him to practice.

and he didn’t know why. 

it was when he saw you talking to futakuchi with that beautiful smile of yours that he felt something even newer than whatever he was feeling around you.

he had locked onto you both, watching as you laughed at whatever his teammate was saying, and blinked when he felt a hard clap on his shoulder. it was once again koganegawa.

“mm, what’re you looking at??” he glanced over, and then pursed his lips. “ohh, i see.”

aone broke his stare away from you both, looking sulky somehow.

“jealousy?? from aone??” koganegawa was shook, to say the least. aone had a visible question mark above his head. is that what this was? must be. he didn’t like how it felt at all.

another revelation for aone, but he didn’t do anything about it.

more time went by as the two of you started to drift apart, you of course still went to practices to watch, but you had stopped going to aone as soon as they had finished up. you went to futakuchi.

he must not be good enough, if you stopped talking so much around him. he missed it, he missed being able to listen to you talk about anything and everything. 

and you didn’t even know that the reason he’s been so off around you was because he liked you too. it had never even crossed your mind as a possibility with a good ending, because you were sure there was no way that he just happened to return the same feelings.

withdrawing just made it hurt, on both ends. 

the miscommunication was getting to be troublesome, because aone wasn’t playing his best, distracted by who and when you were watching, the sadness he felt when you weren’t talking next to him, and his teammates noticed. who wouldn’t?

and you were the reason, the team knew that. it was obvious to them even before this awkward time period.

on a particular day, you were talking with futakuchi again, he was just recalling some of the plays and rules, it was a bit easier to ask him instead of aone, because he wasn’t as quiet. which wasn’t any issue, you liked him no matter how much he spoke. but this was convenient at the time for you.

you wanted to understand it more, maybe if you knew more about volleyball, aone wouldn’t look away anymore. maybe he would say more.

but he stopped midsentence and looked behind you, his face plain. with a sigh, he waved a hand. “alright l/n, looks like somebody wants to talk with you. we can continue later, yeah?” you tilt your head, but nod. 

“oh, okay-”

you felt a hand on your arm, and you turned to look over your shoulder. and there aone was.

“aone? what’s up?” you ask nervously. he had approached you this time, instead of the other way around. a welcome thing, but it kept you on your toes.

he stared you down, and you sweatdropped.

“. . .”

“I like you.”

your soul left your body right then and there. it was gone. what?? huh? your body felt a rush of relief and anxiety leave it, because oh my god, he just said that to you. 

“l/n.” he looked off to the side, and you finally realized what that was all about. he didn’t hate you.

“you don’t hate me? oh thank god, i thought you hated me, you stopped looking at me and i got so worried, i-”

“never would.” he coughed into his fist, a small tint of pink dusted across his cheeks. your eyes soften, and you hold you hands up, making grabby hands at his face. he blinked, and then leaned down towards them.

you held his face gently, stroking his cheek with your thumb, before planting a small kiss on his nose.

“i like you too, aone.”