#it's not about consistency it's about how it lives!!!

[traveler-at-heart]

Undercover

Summary: Natasha and you play a happy couple for an undercover mission.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

-----

It’s mortifying.

As you lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the moment replays in your head over and over and over again. How you wish you had an off switch for your brain.

This is supposed to be an undercover mission, and yet you can’t keep your true feelings hidden from Natasha.

Undercover as a married couple, no less.

Today, while you were sitting in the living room of your “newlywed home”, reading a book, Natasha approached you. Her hand rested on your shoulder.

“I’m going out for a run” she had said. You nodded absentmindedly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll start dinner now”

And it wasn’t until you heard the door shut, that you snapped out of it.

You didn’t have to pretend inside the house. There was absolutely no reason for you to kiss any part of her like that, no one was watching.

Your cheeks flushed and your palms began to sweat. Feeling stupid and exposed, you tried to cook dinner, finding it hard to focus on what to do.

If Natasha noticed the slightly burned meatloaf, she didn’t comment on it. Even as you downed your wine quickly and poured yourself more, she remained stoic and acted as usual.

The night went by in a blurr and now you’re staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Natasha is in the study, doing surveillance and thank God, because sharing a bed after what you did today?

Impossible.

How do I get myself in these situations?

—

“The Maggia” Fury said, looking around the room. There were only five people there, which told you this was an important mission. “What do you know about it?”

“Family of criminals, from Europe, mostly Italy. Loose alliance at that, each family just stays out of the other’s way” you casually said. Hell, you could go on and on about them for much longer.

“Someone does their homework” Fury nodded.

“Show off” Natasha leaned forward, whispering in your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried your best to hide it.

You feared your best wasn’t very good.

“Their operations consist mostly of loan sharking, narcotics and prostituion” Maria continued. “But, we recently recieved intel that the family in New Jersey is playing something more dangerous”

“Potentially, HYDRA and the smuggling of Trinium”

“What’s Trinium?” Rogers, who had been following in silenece, finally intervened.

“Incredibly rare element and highly explosive if exposed to a special charge”

Of course, it was always about blowing something up.

“We’ve located the leaders of the Jersey family. You two will be sent immediately to start the undercover mission, as the timeline indicates that the purchase will happen in less than three months. Sorry for not getting you a gift, but your wedding was done in such a rush” Fury slid down the files towards you and Natasha.

You took it and were about to hand it to Steve, since he was sitting behind you, but Fury just chuckled, shaking his head no.

Maria had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh at your shocked expression, while you turned to look at Natasha with wide eyes.

“Oh, darling, I’ll make you so very happy!”

—

Just your luck, Natasha decides to stay and work from home on Friday. Your plans of eating junk food and wasting away watching reality tv to feel better after your slip up are down the drain.

Instead, you are out gardening. It’s part of the cover, you insisted since you moved. What kind of person would not make an effort to improve their house? One they were planning on living in for years to come.

And truly, you had outdone yourself. In the month you’d spent here, the grass went from dry to green, all kinds of flowers blooming thanks to your hard work and the knowledge provided by years of helping your mother.

It doesn’t matter if the sun is burning your skin or sweat is dripping down your back, you absolutely cannot spend the morning inside the house with the woman who you have a crush on, and who probably knows your true feelings now, thanks to that stupid, stupid…

“Hey” her voice snaps you back to reality, looking up to meet her green eyes, soft and gentle.

“Hi” you reply from your place in the ground, wiping your forehead. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been at it for hours now, and it’s getting too hot. Come get some rest”

“It’s fine, I just need to…”

She calls your name, more of a plea than a warning not to argue with her and you sigh, standing up. As you go up the porch, she hands over a glass of cold lemonade and you take it, realising that you were very much in need of some refreshments.

“What are you doing?” you mutter when you put the glass down, and she takes her hands in yours.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday”

“Natasha”

“Did you act on instinct?” she asks, her lips inches from yours.

“Y-yes”

“That’s what a good agent does. You act natural. It’s not something you put any effort in. You don’t drop the cover under any circumstance”

She is throwing you a life line, a gracious way to salvage some of your dignity -if you have any left, that is- because you both know, you are not that good of an agent.

“She’s walking towards the house” Natasha warns, your back to the street. You don’t look behind you, allowing the redhead to pull you into a heated kiss that steals your breath.

“Hey, neighbors”

You turn around, Natasha’s hand falling to your lower back. Waving at Beatrice Costa, the both of you fake smiles. It’s still hard to believe this regular looking woman is leading a criminal organization next to her husband.

“Your garden is looking spectacular!” she admires.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I’ll stop by to give you some flowers when the hydrengeas bloom”

“As long as your wife doesn’t get jealous” the woman jokes, and you feel Natasha’s hand snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against her front.

“She does” the redhead says in a teasing manner, making your neighbor/suspect laugh.

“Anyways, I came to invite you two over for dinner tomorrow. To thank you for last week”

“Oh, it was no bother, really” you say, smiling.

“I insist. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds great” you nod, and once she says her goodbyes, Natasha turns you around in her arms, still not letting go of your waist.

“See? It’s working. You’re doing great. Nobody questions us” she eases your nerves over what happened yesterday.

Nobody questions you because you are really in love with her, that’s the truth.

“What are you doing?” you say, your breath hitching when she leans over, about to kiss you.

“She’s still around” Natasha says, letting you close the distance to meet her lips.

By the time she drags you back inside, so you can have lunch, the only thought in your head is the feel of her lips in yours.

—

It had been a simple ruse, so simple that it was a wonder it worked.

Natasha made sure Beatrice’s car would malfunction. She always parked outside, and you made sure to be Natasha’s lookout as she drained the battery.

Morning came, and true to her routine, the woman was ready to leave home when the luxurious Mercedes Benz refused to turn on. It just so happened that you were running by, and as any good neighbor would do, offered to help.

What a coincidence, your wife knew enough about cars to fix the issue and send the woman on her merry way.

Beatrice was too polite and too rich to waste the opportunity to thank you -and flaunt her wealth- so next morning she stopped by with a tiramisu from the most expensive bakery in town, to thank you both.

And fuck, it was good tiramisu.

Now, she would greet you and Natasha when either one of you would run past her house (part of your intelligence operations).

Four weeks after the start of the mission, and it had finally paid off, as you received an invitation into the lion’s den.

“So, what’s our game plan here?” you say, looking over yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Enjoy the evening” Natasha says, smiling at your reflection.

“What?” you turn to look at her, confused. “We’re gonna be inside their house. We could bug it”

“Their phones are tapped. That’s all we need. And the man’s computer. But maybe I’ll excuse myself and break into his study”

“That’s too dangerous” you protest. Even if they act like normal people, they’re life long criminals with an extensive network. And you don’t feel prepared to take over anything if Natasha’s compromised. “Could you not?”

“If you have any idea on how to hack into their financial system, sure”

You huff, annoyed at her bored tone. As if she’s not risking herself over something that can be done a million other ways.

“Nat, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. We’ll find another way, ok?” you insist, putting on your heels.

“Ok, darling” she nods, as a spouse would do to calm their crazy wife and you glare, but take your win.

Without another word, you prepare to leave the room, when you feel her arms around your middle.

“What are you…?”

“Clothing tag was out” she says, fixing your sweater. “There. Perfect”

Her words, accompanied by a squeeze to your stomach make your head fuzzy. Clearing your throat, you nod and go down the stairs, picking up a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.

“Trust me” you say when Natasha gives you an inquiring look. “Ready to go?”

“After you, sweetheart”

As you walk down the street to the Costa residence, Natasha takes your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. She might sense your nerves, or is apologizing for before. Either way, you keep a light conversation until she knocks on your suspect’s door, her arm firmly around your waist.

“Welcome!” Beatrice says, ushering you into her home. It’s elegant and big, but not too flashy or pretentious. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a little gift. It’s actually one of the bottles we got from our honeymoon” you take the lead, your hand in Natasha’s as you navigate the luxurious home all the way to the dining room.

“Oh, this is close to the place where my family is from originally”

Oh, what a shock. It’s not like you know everything there is about the Maggia, along with the history of the Gulf of Naples.

While Beatrice goes to the kitchen to check on the food -made by their staff, of course- Natasha looks around the room. You know that inquiring look, as she evaluates every threat and possible complication should you be compromised.

To help her ease into the environment, you take her hand in yours, feeling less exposed because you’re in front of other people who should believe your relationship is real. The mission is the only way you can justify your desire to feel Natasha’s touch.

By the time Beatrice comes back, Alessandro is right behind her and he introduces himself. His clothes scream old money, and the watch on his wrist screams fucking loaded of ilegal money as well.

“This wine is magnificent” he comments when you sit down and begin to eat.

“Le Lune del Vesuvio” you say, looking at Natasha across the table. “We spent our honeymoon in Italy and I just had to drag Nat to Pompeii for a tour”

“Are you familiar with the region?” Alessandro asks and you nod, having practiced everything.

“Yes, I did my dissertation on cultural identity in Pompeii”

“She’s a genius, my wife” Natasha says with a smile, impressed at how much detail you’re putting on everything to keep them engaged.

“Well, Beatrice’s family, the Fortunatos are from the same area. The Costas are from Sicily. So we are very happy to hear that you know it so well”

“How did you two meet?” Beatrice pivots, and Natasha is happy to answer.

“I was working on a client’s divorce settlement and needed an art expert. Y/N was the only one with the knowledge to help our lawfirm. A divorce brought us together” she says, looking at you with a smile.

Such a romantic.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Well, not for the divorced couple. But not everyone can get a happy ending, I suppose” Beatrice says.

It’s your turn to ask the usual questions and Natasha acts surpirsed, following up the way any normal person would, as if you don’t know every single detail about their lives and criminal record already.

When the conversation pivots to Alessandro, you perk up. This has proven to be the hardest part of the mission, as he keeps a tight leash on all their financial records through obscure third parties.

“You know, I also teach some finance classes. Would you be open to giving a lecture on art appraising? I think it’s an interesting market” he turns to you.

“That would be interesting” you say, groaning internally. Now you’re gonna have to actually work on a presentation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody told you you were gonna be quizzed to this extent during the mission.

Natasha hides her smile with the glass of wine, and you kick her under the table. Her smile fades just a little, but you can still see the teasing in her eyes.

She’s having too much fun with this.

—

The next morning you wake up to a note from Natasha. She’s picking up a “special” package, which means she’s coordinating with Maria the next stage of the mission.

You’re surprised to find a bouquet of flowers adorning the dining table.

Natasha is doing her share of the mission and you have to focus on yours, which is the fucking presentation. There better not be a Q&A session or you’ll lose your damn mind.

Moving to the study that also works as a surveillance room, you pull out your computer and begin to work. To be fair, you enjoy art enough to know more about it than the regular person. You had also been in contact with appraisers and auction houses back in your Interpol days, as you tracked ilegal art dealers.

For obvious reasons, you can’t mention that bit.

You’ve been working for a couple of hours when you hear the front door open, Natasha hurrying up the steps.

“Hey” she says with a frown.

“Everything ok?”

“You didn’t answer my text. Have you even taken a break to eat?” she puts down a heavy box in front of you.

“Sorry, I was preparing for the lecture”

“I got you your favorite food for lunch. And did you see the bouquet?” Natasha insists.

“Uh, I did… but is there a reason for…?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

“Is it our fake first date anniversary, baby?” you tease, leaning forward. Natasha’s so worked up it's almost comical.

“Y/N, it’s your birthday”

“What?!” you turn to look at the calendar. “Holy crap, how could I have forgotten my own birthday?”

You are so focused on the mission, this completely slipped your mind. What were you supposed to do any way? Being undercover meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world. The timing sucks, but work is your priority right now.

“Work on that thing tomorrow. You should be resting and having a special day”

“Nat, it’s fine. It won’t be the first or last birthday that I’m stuck at work” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Please?” she reaches for your hand, and the gesture is so gentle that your heart skips a beat. Natasha is very serious about taking the day off.

“Ok” you nod, and the hint of a smile can be seen on her face as you take her hand. She gets plates for the both of you and even agrees to watch Project Runway, which she loathes and you love. Without either one of you noticing, you end up across the couch, your legs on her lap.

“Our dinner reservation is at seven” she says, her hand going up and down your thigh.

“Dinner?”

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?” Natasha smiles, making you blush.

“Well, no one really knows it’s my birthday, so…”

You leave out the most obvious part of how her logic is flawed: you are not even married.

“I know it’s your birthday. Come on. Just let me spoil you once?”

You clear your throat and nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will give away how much those words affect you. Natasha telling you she wants to spoil you?

That alone is the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten.

—

It’s honestly a lot more than you could have asked for. The restaurant is beautiful, the food is amazing, and Natasha is looking at you in that special way that makes you feel so happy and confused at the same time.

If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw love in her beautiful emerald eyes.

“How’s your food?”

“Here” you take a forkful of your pasta and offer it to her.

“Really good. Almost as good as the one we had in… where was it? Naples?” Natasha teases, and you smile.

“That’s the city. The whole region is actually really beautiful… maybe I should take some of that time off and travel again” you ponder, thinking about how life has been all about work for the past years.

“Where would you go? Aside from Naples?”

“Sorrento, Lecce, maybe Positano. I don’t know, I guess I’d spend it around the south, just because the food is that good” you sigh, dreamily.

“How come you know so much about it?” Natasha inquires, smiling softly.

“My parents owned a house, because my grandparents were from Salerno. So we’d all spent every summer there, until they sold the property” you explain, letting the waiter take your empty plate. The memory of hot days, cold water and delicious food comes back to you, coupled with the places you’d visit, driving everywhere with your family.

“So, maybe you were destined to be on this mission” Natasha says, smiling.

“I don’t know if destined or it was Fury messing with me” you slip up, hurrying to take a sip of your wine. He had teased you endlessly about your crush on Natasha, and he was probably laughing his ass off as he prepared your identities.

“Whatever it was, I’m happy we’re in this together” Natasha admits, smiling to you.

“Me too” you agree in a low voice. Then, you look at her and smile mischeviously. “So, since it’s my birthday, can we get a nice dessert?”

“I’m already on it” Natasha raises her hand, the man bringing a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a candle. “Make a wish”

What could you possibly wish for? You wanted to spend time with Natasha, get to know her, have her look at you the way she was doing right now.

Your wish was granted already. Still, you smile, and lean forward to blow out the candle.

—

“Maybe this is a bad idea”

Natasha is hovering. Hovering and following you and asking all kinds of questions while you prepare your bag.

“It’s gonna be fine” you say, again.

“It’s too risky”

“All I have to do is place this phone next to his computer” you lift the device that Maria sent. “And we’ll have access to his files”

“What if he notices?”

“I better run fast then” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a history nerd with no fighting skills”

“Except you are a history nerd” she mutters and you turn to glare at her.

“You know what, Romanoff”

“Can I at least drive you there?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on your side. Does she think you’ll screw up the mission? Or is she actually worried about you? Either way, she looks conflicted and there’s no reason to not give her some peace of mind.

“Alright”

On the way to the lecture, you review your notes, missing the way Natasha smiles at the things you’re saying about the subjective value of art and how it has changed throughout history.

Such a nerd.

“I’ll be in a cafe monitoring everything. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up”

“Yes, darling wife” you say with a slightly mocking tone, the same way you always call her your wife in public, but with no one else around.

As you exit the car and walk towards the university, Natasha calls for you.

“I didn’t get to wish you good luck” she explains, pulling you close and kissing you softly. “Good luck”

“T-thanks” you say, out of breath.

Natasha nods, letting you walk as if she didn’t just do the sweetest thing in the world.

You try not to think about how much you’ll miss this when the mission’s over.

But now you have to stay focused.

Alessandro waves his hand in the air, and you walk towards him with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this”

“It’s not a problem, really”

It totally is, you criminal motherfucker.

“Oh, I forgot my laptop, could I use yours? I have the deck on a flash drive”

Alessandro hesitates for a second, but his mask slips back to place instantly. If you really were a regular person, you never would have noticed his concern.

It means he keeps everything hidden there.

“Sure. Let me just…” he quickly types his password, and you look around the classroom, pulling out the phone and placing it on the table next to his computer. “All set”

“Thank you”

As the slideshow is projected in the auditorium, you look around the room, feeling more confident.

“So, how much would you guys pay for a banana taped to a wall?”

—

“I’m telling you, he keeps everything there” you say to Natasha, browsing through the device. “There’s some encryption, though”

“My expertise”

“Show off”

“Let’s get something to eat” she changes the subject.

“You don’t wanna go back home and check if it’s working?”

“I think a few hours won’t make a difference. We won’t be long, detka”

You think Fury would disagree, but she’s calling you detka and your gayness outweights your sense of duty.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you want”

“Pizza”

“Anything but pizza” she says, making a face and you laugh.

“Natasha!”

“Sushi” she proposes.

“Fine, sushi it is”

The evening is spent talking about everything but the mission, and by the time you’re driving back home, all you want to do is get in bed and sleep.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Natasha walks to the study.

“You did your part, now I have to work” she explains with a smile.

“Fine” you close the door to the bedroom, joining her in the study. “Either way you’re gonna wake me up when you come back to bed. Might as well help you now”

“Sure” she says, even though you know next to nothing about code and hacking.

While she works on the computer, you look at the window, yawning and stretching in the couch.

Natasha finds out that Pluto is the banking organization they use for their covert operations. To access the accounts she needs a code-string of numbers.

“How many numbers?” you ask, half asleep.

“Six”

“Not coordinates. Could be dates. Most of them like to write down the dates of their oldest founders' tombstones anywhere they can, like a fucking tramp stamp” you joke, falling asleep. “Get into the database and try those”

“Maybe…” Natasha begins to say, but when she turns around you’re snoring.

And what does she know, you are right, the key to the algorithm is based on tombstones’ dates. Talk about morbid.

“Nerd” Natasha says affectionately. Deciding it is enough work for the day, she closes the laptop, helping you up to your shared bedroom.

Truth is, she’s not ready to finish this mission.

—

The end is near, you both can tell. With the encryption finished and the communications that you have intercepted, SHIELD has enough to arrest them.

According to the conversations you recorded, the exchange is set to happen two weeks from today. So you have two more weeks of fake domestic bliss. And then back to being just colleagues.

“I’ll be home as soon as I have a response” Natasha says.

“See you later” you say from your spot in the couch.

“No good luck kiss?” she jokes, referring to the time she said goodbye to you before the lecture.

But you’re not messing around when you stand up and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. If these are the last two weeks you get to do this without being questioned, you’ll make the most of them.

“Be safe”

“You too” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

The sun is setting, but you don’t feel like cooking anything or watching television. Instead, you decide to go out for a run, passing by the Costa mansion out of curiosity.

“Hey, neighbor” Beatrice greets with her signature wave. She often looks like royalty waving at the commoners. “Want some refreshments?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just out for a short run”

“Come on, you could use some rest! I’d love to hear how the presentation went”

Feeling cornered, you nod, stepping foot inside her mansion. Beatrice has a glass of lemonade ready, which surprises you, but you take it and sip slowly.

Damn, even her lemonade tastes amazing.

“Heard those students were fascinated by your presentation” she encourages you to speak, and you nod, the movement making you a bit fuzzy.

“It was fun… yeah”

“Everything ok?” Beatrice comes close to inspect your face, and you try to step back. Your leg gives in, so you end up on the floor.

“I’m not sure…”

It isn’t until the very last second you understand the woman drugged you.

—

Everything is upside down or so you feel as you struggle to open your eyes.

“See? I told you she’d be fine”

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been waiting for hours” a man says and you blink several times. Their names come back to you slowly.

The mission.

Was your cover blown?

“Y/N, dear, I do apologize. My wife may have overdone it with the clonazepam” Alessandro says. You try to move, but your hands are tied behind your back. “Yes, about that. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you here for long. We just really need to use your connections in the art world to smuggle a tiny, tiny thing”

Good news (for you). The cover is safe.

Bad news (for them). Natasha is gonna kill them.

It looks like you’re in an abandoned warehouse, and judging by the sound, it’s close to the river.

“Yeah, uh… look. I don’t know how to say this, but you’d be better off crossing the border, whichever one. South, north”

“I’m not following” Beatrice says.

“Well, I’m afraid Natasha’s gonna kill you when she finds you two” you grimace, almost feeling sorry for them. They truly don’t know what’s coming.

“No offense, but I think a Maggia family will be more than safe from…”

“The Black Widow?” you say, with a smug smile.

“Bullshit” Beatrice snaps, pulling you by the hair. “Stop the nonesense and help us out. Or we’ll send you home to your loving wife in a body bag”

There’s a loud crash outside of the warehouse, and a widow bite is shot close to Beatrice’s foot as a warning.

“Hands off my girl” Natasha says, gun raised and pointing at Alessandro. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Sorry for missing dinner”

“It’s fine. We’ll heat it up when we get home” Natasha jokes. With a nod, you throw yourself to the floor, shattering the chair. Beatrice throws a couple of punches, and she’s quite the fighter.

While Natasha is engaged in battle with Alessandro, the woman escapes and you’re following close behind. The drug is still in your system, and you can tell by the way your steps are a little clumsy.

Beatrice leads you to the edge of the river and you catch up to her out of breath.

“It’s over” you say, hearing Natasha step right behind you.

“Cap’s got the other one. Let’s bring this one in” she says, walking past you. She fails to see the gun that Beatrice is hiding, and you push Natasha out of the way. The bullet passes between you both and you launch your body against Beatrice, knocking her down.

Still, your diziness makes you lose your footing and you fall to the river.

“Rogers, Hill!” Natasha calls over comms, borderline hysterical. “Someone come in”

“I’m here, Romanoff” Tony says, flying over the redhead.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Tony’s suit scans the river and finds you.

“She’s ok, I’m getting her out now. Handcuff our suspect there”

Natasha turns to glare at Beatrice, punching her so hard she’s knocked out.

“Bitch” Natasha says, handcuffing her.

Maria approaches to make sure Natasha doesn’t kill Beatrice, while the redhead sprints towards the spot where Tony drops you off.

“Are you ok? What hurts?”

“J-just cold” you mutter, holding on to her hands.

“Let’s take her to the Medbay. Romanoff, stay so you can lead the rest of the mission” Steve says.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Natasha screams so loud that every agent on the scene turns to look at her. “I’m going with her to the hospital, I don’t give a crap about your mission, Rogers”

“Tasha, I’m fine” you insist, but enjoy the way she pulls you against her, her hands on your lower back. Natasha kisses the top of your head, leading you to a car that will drive you to SHIELD’s medical facility.

Fury turns to look at Hill, amused.

“Remember our little bet?”

Maria rolls her eyes, annoyed. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and reluctantly hands it to her boss.

“So not fair”

—

Bruised ribs, a potential cold from your night swim and a minor concussion. All things considered, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Natasha seems to disagree, which is why she pushes to postpone the mission debriefing.

“You need to rest” is all she says.

Back in your old room, you shower, enjoying the hot water and clean clothes. Natasha is still sitting on your bed when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep without you” she confesses shyly, which makes you smile.

“Me neither”

“I thought I lost you”

“I got lucky. Those two idiots actually thought I was an art dealer” you chuckle.

“You’re a very convincing art nerd” Natasha teases, and you want to pull back but she grabs you by the waist. “I wish I still had two more weeks”

“It doesn’t have to be just two weeks” you say, running your hand through her hair. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you, Natasha. I want to be with you, for real”

“Yeah?” she looks up at you, a guarded expression on her face.

Instead of answering, you lean forward, kissing her softly until she pulls you to straddle her lap.

“You know, we never consumated our marriage”

“Seems like we should get on with it” you laugh as she flips you over, making you lie on your back.

“Just as long as you don’t fake an orgasm” she jokes, kissing every inch of your body.

“Promise I won’t”

Your reality turns out better than any undercover mission could ever be.

[puck-luck]

wait plz for your 1k celly can I request your example of 7 of hearts Quinn breeding kink like that’s rlly EVERYTHING

warnings: no actual fucking, but allusions to previous encounters. the third installment of this breeding kink/pregnancy thing that i've been writing through these cellys. here is part one and part two. might even write a fourth if there's another request for Q's breeding kink in my list! (there probably is).

wc: 897

It’s a Sunday and Quinn doesn’t have a game today. Things are already wonderful just from those two facts alone, but you have a third little fact that you’ve been waiting to tell Quinn since last week. During his short roadie down to California, you’d peed on the stick and that second line appeared. An indescribable feeling washed over you– it was a rush of emotion that tapered off into a consistent feeling of happiness. 

You were excited to tell Quinn what was happening, but you wanted to make sure that it wasn’t a false positive. You’d made an appointment at your doctor’s office, a rushed one, and asked them to do some bloodwork to see if you were really pregnant– you were. After two months of trying, you were knocked up. Quinn’s baby was growing inside of you. It’s weird when you think about a baby actually growing in your body, but you’re ecstatic that it’s Quinn’s baby and you get to experience this together.

You’re tangled up in bed now. Your head is on Quinn’s chest, hand on his stomach, and his arm is wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes are closed and his breath is even. He’s awake, even though it doesn’t look like he is. 

“Quinn?” You murmur.

“Mm?” He hums. “I think my dick is broken, baby. Can’t fuck you right now.” He shifts, moving towards the edge of the bed. “Gonna go make us breakfast, I think. What do you want? Pancakes?”

“I wanna stay in bed with you,” you reply, tracing the birthmark on his chest. 

Quinn snuffles out a laugh, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head. “Not possible. We have to eat something. Let me go make something, then we can be lazy in the living room together.”

“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed,” you say, voice growing to a normal volume. You pick your head up and set your chin in his sternum, looking up at your boyfriend. 

Quinn’s eyes open a sliver, glinting down at you. “My dick doesn’t work anymore. Fucked you too good last night, sweetheart.”

He’s right, he did fuck you too good last night. You'd had no idea how much better sex was when you’re pregnant– but maybe it was the confirmation bias. You’d read that it was better and you were excited that Quinn was so eager to fuck you full of his child, unaware that he’d already succeeded, so you felt like it was better. You’ll have to keep track of your opinion during the pregnancy, just to make sure.

“Don’t need your dick to work anymore, Q,” you tell him coyly, a tiny little grin on your face. 

Quinn’s eyebrows pinch together, confused. “What do you mean?” He asks. “You don’t want to keep trying?”

You lay your head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Not that,” you tell him. “I just don’t think you can get me pregnant again.”

Quinn goes quiet and still. His heart is pounding beneath your ear. “What?” He questions, seeming like he’s holding his breath. “What did you say?”

You smile, turning and burying your face between his pecs. Your lips kiss over his sternum and where his heart is pounding against the bone– at least, that’s how it feels. He’s racing. “I wasn’t sure if it was a false positive, so I went to the doctor the other day, and I’m pregnant, Q. There’s a Hughes baby inside me right now.”

He stares at you, eyes wide and disbelieving. His mouth is open, jaw dropped wide.

You snort out a laugh and grab his arm, placing his hand on your abdomen. “The baby and I would like to be lazy in bed with Daddy all day, please.” You’re just teasing him now, trying to get a reaction from him.

“Are you actually?” Quinn demands, springing back to life. His eyes are darting all over his face and he’s craning his neck so that he can look down at you properly. “You’re not just fucking with me?”

“Do you want me to go get the pregnancy test and the doctor’s note?” You ask, laughing.

“No! No,” Quinn says, his voice loud and excited. “I can get it. You relax.” He kicks the covers off, but you wrap your arms around his stomach and try to hold him there. He’s strong, so he moves anyway. “Where is it?”

“It’s only been a few weeks, Q, I can still move around,” you laugh. “They’re in the bottom drawer in the bathroom with all my random things. Come back here when you’re done, I wasn’t kidding about cuddling with my baby-daddy all day.” Your last sentence is a call after him, because as soon as you told Quinn where the items were, he was on the move. You can hear him throwing open the drawer and rifling around. 

You laugh, laying flat on your back and placing a hand on your belly. You’re not showing, not even close, but you know that there’s something in there. A little baby, made completely from yours and Quinn’s love. That knowledge, paired with Quinn’s excitement when he comes rushing back into the room and pounces on you, wrapping you in a hug and kissing over your face, pregnancy test clasped in his hand, makes this the best day of your life.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

huh...

Recently I was researching Malleus in preparation to write some things for my "10 years later" blog event. And you know what I noticed?

MALLEUS SEEMS TO HAVE LIKE NO CLEARLY STATED POLICY POSITIONS WHATSOEVER 💀 Across 4+ years of content (voice lines, vignettes, events, main story, etc.), Malleus does not really indicate how he plans to rule once he ascends to the throne. I keep thinking I missed something and go back to comb over everything, but I swear to you that it was pretty threadbare. The closest examples I could find were him being familiar with the concept of noblesse oblige (those of higher status have a duty to aid the weak), thinking it prudent to maintain friendly relationships with representatives of foreign lands, and going along with various traditions and ceremonies. But there's nothing concrete, like how exactly Malleus would achieve his goals once in power or what his specific goals are. (This is not counting fan speculation, such as him potentially eliminating the current senate due to how they treated Lilia so callously.)

Malleus will often talk about how the things he's experiencing are different than what he knows of back home. Malleus will talk about how others wait on him (his birthday is a national holiday, he has private chefs and tutors, etc.). But he doesn't talk about how he would rule. That's like... so wild to me considering that he's the crown prince of Briar Valley. I would have expected at least one or two dedicated voice lines about such a BIG for Malleus, especially with how often he speaks about himself being a royal and being groomed for the position of future ruler of his nation. Malleus sometimes shares about his grandmother, who is the current ruler, but again never specifies what her ruling style is like or what her policies are like. It's also strange to me that Sebek, Silver, and Lilia also never speak about Malleus's positions on anything. The best we get is Lilia trying to encourage Malleus to get out of his comfort zone more and to make the most of his time to learn about his non-fae peers. That doesn't speak to any of his current thoughts though, only what Lilia hopes will enhance Malleus's understanding now and perhaps inform his decisions in the future. We're mostly left to assume how Briar Valley's political landscape works--but even then, there's not much to make of it, besides being aware of the senate, a reliance on magic, and the general adversity to humans and technology.

Compare this to Leona, the other prince of the cast (not counting Silver, since he learns of his prince heritage very late into the main story and may not even feasibly have a country or people to his name anymore). Leona is the second prince of Sunset Savanna, meaning he's not even expected to become king someday--yet we consistently hear what his thoughts on policies and political planning are. He comments that he worries for his country's future due to how lax, kind-hearted, and extravagant his older brother and acting king Falena is. On top of that, Leona's own views on what would most benefit his country are explicitly laid out. He doesn't care much for stuffy traditions or living in harmony with nature (a value many of his countrymen have); he prioritizes progress and thinks proactively about it. Even on his own birthday, Leona talks about how the gift he received from Falena could be better served as a gift to a neighboring country to bolster the relationship between their nations. The mining and energy internship he chooses in book 7 is also geared towards making sustainable advancements back home (presumably to make use of his country’s natural resources while minimizing damage to the land). We get a very clear sense of how Leona would go about improving his country, even if not from the position of king and even if his ideas wouldn’t be received well by his people or by the land. (If this topic interests you, then please check out this post, where I discuss Leona vs Falena's priorities and ruling styles.)

So what's up with Malleus, an actual king-to-be, not talking about politics at all????? Is it maybe just something Malleus is not thinking about (since it's possible that he could become king much later in life, since he’s not considered an “adult” until 1000 years old)? Is he maybe focusing on his current school experience? Or is it that he just... keeps the plans to himself since they aren't immediately relevant? Or is it that he feels he doesn't need to implement many changes once he does become king (since he seems to already be accustomed to his grandmother's way of ruling), so there's no need for him to consider it now? (Briar Valley itself and Malleus are particularly old-fashioned and appear to have issues adapting or changing with the times.) Is it that Malleus secretly dreads his ascension because it means he can no longer go back to his carefree school days? Maybe it's just the Twst devs intentionally keeping Briar Valley vague for meta reasons/to maintain Diasomnia's mystique??? It could be any combination of reasons.

I guess I'm a little frustrated myself at this realization because a personal gripe I have with Malleus is how he's treated and talked about like he's a great leader (especially by Diasomnia; *stares at Sebek shouting and Lilia's book 2 speech*), but we never get real instances of him acting like that great leader he supposedly is. It feels like lip service (think about how often Diasomnia and the general cast hypes him up) without him being able to back it up. When has Malleus led anyone in a serious group effort? How does he intend to lead in the future? I feel like it's mostly him wandering off to do his own thing or to clear the challenge with his OP-ness. But if Twst is really going to sell us on Malleus being a "great leader", then he should be given more opportunities to be one. It's such a wasted opportunity that we don't get to know more about this. The only instance I can think of (off the top of my head) where Malleus "leads" is GloMasq, and even then I don't know if I would count it??? Because Malleus isn't really leading the group so much as he is tagging along with them because there's safety in numbers given the situation. Everyone else throws themselves out there to protect him and the other event SSRs... and the way Malleus acts kind of implies he would march up that tower and try to decimate Rollo with or without anyone's help if he could. That doesn't really read to me as him taking charge, even if he's technically going to these great lengths to protect his country, which primarily relies on magic (ie their way of life would be destroyed if Rollo's plan succeeds). Maybe I'm missing something though??? If you can think of any examples of Malleus being a leader and/or times when he mentions how he'd rule Briar Valley, let me know. it's very possible that I have overlooked an example, given the extensive amount of content out at the moment. Sharing general thoughts on this topic is also fine.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

simple math

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, pre-relationship, dawn island era (ace is a brat)

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. the math is simple: ace is cool, so you like him.

notes. oh the beauty of growing up on dawn island, running around mt. corvo. i love you, post-war asl brothers flashback arc. i'll have to rewatch you. again

"Hey, you," Ace's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "What's your deal?"

When you turn to look at him, his characteristic frown is plastered across his face, glaring all the while. It's a strange circle of events, being here in this moment.

Just the other day, what would have been typical of your coming to Mt. Corvo was Ace ignoring you and Luffy for the better part of the day. That spliced with him Tarzan swinging across the trees to avoid you both following him to wherever it was he went all the time. If you really got lucky and it was too late to head back into town, you'd help yourself to staying over at Dadan's much to the bandit's dismay.

"Damn brats keep multiplying by the day," she'd growl, going back and forth between pulling her flame-colored hair and smoking another cigarette. "Go home! We're bandits, not a daycare!"

Still, the bandit and her clan were too nice to kick you out. So you'd remain the rest of night, talking and talking and talking until Ace would snap in irritation for you to shut up. After a few days, you'd actually go home for a few days to tell your grandfather of your most recent attempts at getting Luffy to befriend his angry companion.

Rinse, wash and repeat.

This is all new, however.

Luffy is snoring, belly round with fish and a dope smile on his face and Ace is there. So is another kid ー Sabo, Ace's best friend ー who decided the other day he'd be living at Dadan's from now on. Dadan relented and now all four of you are outside by a lake, no more chasing although a dash of mortal peril still remains considering how Luffy almost got eaten by a crocodile. Again.

Something changed the day you got up the mountain too late to join Luffy in his nth attempt in chasing Ace down. By the time he finally got back, he was battered and bruised. That was consistent. What wasn't consistent, however, were Ace and Sabo's accompaniment also looking as if they'd all come back from a great battle. According to Luffy, there had been.

Now the four of you were all together, a new standard. Grandpa's not gonna believe this! You can't help giggling, wondering how the old man will react. Ace's frown only deepens and you remember you still haven't said anything to answer his question. "Sorry," you say quickly, scratching the back of your head. "I was thinking about my grandpa. What do you mean?"

"It means what I said," Ace squints at you with suspicion. "What's with you? Him I get because he told me," Ace kicks a foot at Luffy's, the younger boy's sleep completely undisturbed. That kid could sleep through anything, you're absolutely positive. "Plus he lives here. I don't get you, though."

You blink, owlishly, not quite understanding what the boy wanted from you. "What don't you get?"

"Why you were chasing me all the time!" Ace snaps, looking much like Dadan with how he clutches his hair. "You don't shut up most of the time, but now you do?!"

Sabo sighs at the freckled boy's reaction, the brim of his top hat covering his eyes for a moment. "Ace," he sighs once more. Rowdy as the blond could be, he's easily the calmer of the two and is constantly donned in your favorite color. You like Sabo, you decide for the millionth time in the past few days.

"Don't you have a reason?!" the wavy-haired boy stares you in equal parts disbelief and distrust.

You cock your head, blinking curiously, "does there have to be?" You find the bony remains of the fish you'd eaten more interesting, continuing your efforts in collecting them. You are a simple child, it doesn't take much for you to be impressed or for someone to make you like them. You figured that's how it was for everybody until you met Ace. Apparently you were wrong.

You like Demarius, Stacey, Pierre and Lisa Lisa so you play with them even if all Demarius wants to play is marines.

You like the sea so you always jump in the water without a second's thought.

You like collecting bones, empty snail shells and whatever else you can get your hands on so you take them home.

It's never been your best subject but the math has always been simple. 'Live freely and happily', that's what your grandfather always told you to do. It's why he didn't mind what you did all day as long as you checked in once in a while. Not that it was necessary because he somehow always seemed to know what you were up to anyway.

As for Ace… you look the boy over with his warm, freckled skin and wild hair. You decide, for the nth time, that you like him. Even if he thinks you talk too much, Ace is probably ー no, no, definitely ー the coolest kid you know. "I like you, you're cool," you say at last and it's nothing for the rest of your words to flow like a river to the ocean. Excitedly, you look at Sabo paying Ace's look of surprise no mind, "you should have seen him before, Sabo," you drop your haul, trying your best to mime someone swinging through the trees. Considering he's known Ace a good five years longer than you, he likely has but you still go through with the motion. "He was like phyoo!"

With a laugh, Sabo nods. "I was the one who taught him that, for the record," he tells you smugly. "I told him about this story I read about a human raised by gorillas and Ace said he wanted to try it. I'm pretty good too."

Puffing your chest, you are happy to tell Sabo you know the story well. "I knew he was being like Tarzan!" You weren't nearly as good at the movement, considering your natural clumsiness. Ace somehow makes it look easy, though. "I'm not that good yet, but it's fine I'm good with-"

"You're such a weirdo," Ace pipes up suddenly and you look over at him. It isn't much of a difference but his brow isn't as furrowed and his shoulders aren't as tense. Maybe one day you'll be friends the way he is with Sabo, you hope so at least.

You wear the title with pride, "heck yeah I'm a weirdo!"

Sabo snickers and Ace pushes him half-heartedly. "Yeah, yeah," the de facto leader of this newly founded quartet grouched on.

[artsfavoritehorn]

A cozy Friday night at home with Art the Clown-headcanons🤡😋

Here's the long awaited Friday night with Art headcanons list I've been working on! This is also the first piece of written work I've ever posted for Art so I hope I did our special clown man justice 🥹 This is how I imagine a nice evening with Art would go, he's definitely ooc but this is my fantasy world and I can be as delusional as I want to be about him and I'm sure if you're reading this that you would agree☺️😋🥳🤘

Word count: 2,850😳🤪

Author's note: Apologies in advance for any random grammatical errors or tense changes I wrote this in like three or four days lol! This is mostly tooth rotting fluff but about a little over halfway through it does turn a bit spicy and suggestive but nothing too crazy this time around 😙😉🤡 Enjoy!

-It’s finally Friday night! This is Art’s personal favorite night of the week because he gets to have you all to himself and he knows that you don't have to wake up early the next day. You know who's gonna be waiting for you when you get home☺️🤡

-You walk into your shared home that's completely dark inside, you'll go to put the light on expecting your clown boyfriend to be standing there but you don't see him right away

-You shrug your shoulders and continue taking your shoes and jacket off when all of a sudden a large pair of arms wrap around your midsection causing you to let out a squeak of surprise

-You turn to find Art’s face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, happily breathing in your scent and hugging you tightly from behind

-(he's gotten better over time at not immediately jumping out and scaring you half to death when you come home but occasionally he likes to spook you because he's a jerk lol😈)

-He'll turn you around and pull you into a big hug! He misses you sooo much when you aren't around🥲

-You're impressed that his suit appears relatively clean- he's learned over time that you enjoy touching him and being close to him more when he's not visibly covered in some rando’s blood lol🩸

-You start to unpack your bag and you pull out a present you picked up for Art- you surprise him with a couple of bags of his favorite candies!😄🍬🍭🍫

-He makes a cute surprised face like 😱🤩, clapping his hands together in rapid succession and quickly snatching the candy from you, smiling ear to ear and honking his horn excitedly a few times in response~ he loves the fact that you pay attention to what he likes and appreciates it so much🥺🥹

-He'd quickly take your hand in his and excitedly pull you over to the couch where he's already set up some cozy blankets and pillows for you to relax after your long day- he even poured a few glasses of wine for the two of you to share while watching your favorite movies and shows🍷😊

-He also ordered a pizza for you guys to have for dinner😋🍕(ofc he didn't call but he placed an online order for contactless delivery *with your credit card*😇)

-Art ordered a half and half pizza, the first side consisting of whatever your favorite toppings are and his side of just anchovies because of course he would he's a stinky lil guy🐟

-Before you get cozy with him on the couch, Art will wave his hands and motion for you to go change into your pjs and get comfortable

-When you return to the living room, you find that Art has turned off the big lights and has turned on your string lights decorating the walls as well as having a few candles lit on the table~ Art is waiting for you happily on the couch with his arms outstretched to you, making little grabby motions (although you were only gone for a few hours, Art gets antsy when he can't touch or squeeze you for an extended period of time because he's a very handsy👐)

-Before you sit down, he’ll also look up and down your body dramatically and mimic doing a wolf whistle, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively and smirking, letting you know that he loved the pjs you decided on wearing😜😏🥴

-You’d happily oblige the clown, cuddling up right next to him and breathing a sigh of relaxed relief as your face is pressed into the side of Art's soft clown suit, one of his arms wrapping around your midsection and the other finding its way to rest gently on the back of your head, holding you close for a moment in a hug before moving his arm from your head to rest around your shoulders

-Art would then grab the blankets and tuck them in around your lap and put a few pillows around you so that you were covered on all sides- even though he's nasty like all of the time, this man knows how to get properly cozy and comfy☺️😇

-Art would let you choose whatever movie you wanted to watch- if you're happy, he's happy😊

-He would lean over and pick up the glasses of wine, offering one to you and clinking your glasses together dramatically with the biggest smile; although Art is not particularly fond of hard liquor, he has developed a liking to wine occasionally as long as it's a really sweet sparkling wine lol)

-After taking his first sip, Art would instinctively lean over to you and make a little kissy face and quickly point at his mouth, wanting you to give him a kiss- he loves the taste of the sweet wine intermingled with the taste of you and you're more than happy to reciprocate😚

-Pretty soon, the two of you would become engrossed in the film- Art would begin snacking on the candy you got for him, occasionally offering the bag in your direction for you to take a piece as well, and you would soon find your hand in his, squeezing his hand every now and again at the suspenseful parts of the movie����🎬

-You would also toy with the ends of his gloves and lightly touch his fingertips~ you loved his hands and he was happy to let you absentmindedly caress him🤤

-At one point Art would lean over to you holding one of the pieces of pizza to your mouth, wanting to feed you- you took a bite blindly without thinking to find out it was one of his anchovy slices, causing you to grimace in surprise as Art laughed at you- you'd roll your eyes and smile back at him as you jokingly nudged him in the side, his grin never faltering as he took the slice back and bit the end that had just been in your mouth, licking his lips happily😋

-After the movie is over and the pizza and candy are mostly gone, Art would switch the tv to the news just to check if they mentioned him at all that night (he definitely loves any chance he can get to have all the attention on him) and lo and behold that poorly drawn police sketch of him that you've seen countless times would be sprawled across the television screen🤡

-Art would point between the screen and himself excitedly, silently laughing and slapping his knee as if to say “Look, there I am! Aren't you proud of me?😀😛😜”~ He thought it was the funniest thing ever and you would just shake your head and chuckle- your boyfriend could be such a silly goober, and you found it funny in a twisted way how people would always report on him but he would continuously get away with the shit he gets up to, knowing they would never be able to stop him (being a semi immortal demon clown dude has its perks😎👹🤡)

-When the news story concluded, you would just put on any random tv show etc that you wanted and lean your head on Art’s shoulder, savoring the alone time you get to spend with him and just thinking about how lucky you are to be his❤️

-After a while, you’d feel Art tap your arm and you’d look up at him, catching a certain shift in his eyes and in the way he is looking down at you, grinning from ear to ear

-He’d take the blanket off his lap and slightly adjust how he's sitting, spreading his legs out ever so slightly and leaning back more against the couch before patting his lap, inviting you to take a seat🥴🥴🥴😮‍💨

-Blushing ever so slightly, you follow his silent command and adjust yourself so that you're straddling his lap with your hands placed gently on his shoulders, whatever show playing on the television now long forgotten

-This is a set up you've come to recognize with Art- he loves to have you straddle his lap just so he can sit and admire you; for how much he doesn't think twice about the general population, you're the only exception, and he's very serious when it comes to your moments of intimacy💕💕😘

-He loves to run his hands up and down your sides, gazing up and down your figure lovingly, when he looks back at your face and sees your love struck expression, he'll slowly smirk at you with a salacious glint in his eyes🥵😳

-Art loves this position because he knows he can wrap his arms completely around you so that you can't get away (not that you'd want to let's be fr) and he's able to sit back and see all of you at once, sitting pretty for him on his black and white clad lap in your semi revealing pjs (thin tank top and panties combo ftw🙂‍↕️🤘)

-Even if you aren't planning on getting down and dirty in those moments, he'll still love to feel you up all over, taking his sweet time especially when he gets to your chest- he's got a thing for boobs (because he can honk em duh😛🙂‍↕️🤫) and he loves the reactions you give him when he's got his hands squeezing them

-Sometimes in these moments he'd squeeze his horn in one hand while squeezing your breast with the other simultaneously, making his signature surprised face while you'd start laughing at how ridiculously silly he is🥲📯

-He’d also love to pull you close and smush his face right in between them, breathing you in and loving just how soft you are; this causes you to sharply inhale and shakily exhale because you feel so deliciously vulnerable with how intimately close he is to you😮‍💨

-Art is very fine tuned to your reactions, picking up on your quickening heartbeat and breaths that are turning more shaky with each passing second~ you could feel him smiling against your chest and his grip tightens around you, trying to pull you even closer (if that's even possible at this point lol)

-More often than not he'll fall asleep in this position because you're so comfortable (like his own personal body pillow😃), you'll look down at him and chuckle when you see his eyes closed contentedly and the tiniest line of drool making its way down his chin and dripping on your chest💧

-You'll eventually end up cradling the back of his head in your arms and give him a sweet kiss on his forehead, which usually stirs him, just long enough to prompt him to move this party of two to your shared bedroom💋

-He'd gaze up at you lovingly, removing his arms slowly from the hold they have around your body, stopping briefly to squeeze your breasts yet again while raising his eyebrows suggestively at you before letting you stand up from his lap and stretch

-You would turn away from him for a brief moment to turn off the tv and blow out the candles on the coffee table, all the while Art, still sat on the couch, would intently watch your ass shake slightly as you bent down to pick up his candy wrappers scattered across the carpet😏

-Shifting back around to face him, you could tell what he was thinking about and you just chuckled at him, making the “shame on you” sign with your fingers, smirking back at him to which he would look around dramatically and point to himself as if to say “who, me?🥺😲” followed by him blowing you grandiose exaggerated kisses with his hand and sticking his tongue out at you from between his teeth playfully😝

-He always finds a way to make you smile and laugh even when he's staring you down with the most lustful look in his eyes

-You'd motion for him to come with you and he'd quickly follow your lead, jumping to his feet and kicking his clown shoes off to a random corner of the room, eager to get into bed with you

-You'd be heading down the hallway with Art trailing right behind, a sweet longing for you radiating off of his tall form in the way in which he pursued you🏃‍♂️‍💨

-As soon as you make it to the bedroom, the clown would instantly pick you up into his desiring arms, laying you down lovingly on the bed and just standing back to admire you for a moment more with a sickeningly sweet grin before moving to climb on the bed with you🛏️🤡😈

-Before laying down completely, Art would look at you with the biggest doe eyes he could pull, gesturing to your tank top and pulling the bottom of it up ever so slightly before clasping his hands together dramatically in a pleading motion, asking if he could take it off of you (it's his little way of asking consent🥹)

-You smiled at him and nodded, sitting up just enough for him to more easily have access to you as he removed the piece of clothing from your upper body; once it was off, Art sat back on his haunches with his eyes wide, placing his hands over his heart and moving them up and down as if to signify that his heart was thumping outside of his chest at the sight of your nearly naked form, making you blush even deeper under his gaze- he's seen you completely naked so many times now but you still feel the heat in your cheeks rise every time he does😘💓💘

-Art would notice your blush right away, his mouth cracking into that twisted smirk as he reached out to stroke your tinged red cheek with his gloved hand briefly and then running said hand down your bare chest teasingly before moving to lay down beside you; he found it so cute how quickly you would become flustered by whatever he did to you

-Once you both are situated under the covers, your legs intertwined with his much longer ones, Art’s head would quickly find its resting place between your breasts yet again, leaving soft kisses (and probably a bit of the face paint from his mouth) anywhere that he could now that much more skin was exposed before finally snuggling into your chest, sighing happily and soundlessly against your form🫦👀

-His sweet ministrations and the sensations of his lips against your skin would cause you to let out little moans, in turn feeling him smirk against you yet again- he adored all the hot sounds he could get you to make, proud of the fact that he could make you feel so good; he would usually tease you and mock you whenever you'd make little sounds or faces of pleasure since he found you so amusing (and he knew that it also got you off😏) but in more tender times such as this, Art would let you do your thing and he would just take it all in, savoring you sweetly😘😉

-His hands are also immediately on you again, wrapping his thin yet strong arms around your body so possessively and securely in such a way that only he was capable of🙏

-You felt so safe and protected in his arms; you knew nobody or nothing could hurt you when you were with Art, and you knew he would do anything it took to make sure you were always secure💜

-You wrapped your arms around him in return, rubbing up and down his back, occasionally making little circular massaging motions across his shoulder blades and lightly running your fingernails along the broad expanse of the clown’s smooth and strong form; if he was capable of making noises he would be purring at this, Art head over heels for the tender gentle comfort you provided him

-Glancing down at Art’s sweet face against your chest, and him staring right back up at you with his dark piercing eyes, you told him that you loved him; he smiled so wide at that and you could feel his hands stroke your sides earnestly, one of his ways of saying that he loved you too🥹🥹🥹

-You sighed contentedly as you close your eyes, wanting to stay in this position forever

-You both fall asleep in a beautiful embrace, Art subconsciously miming little snores and you being lulled into a dream like state by the hefty rise and fall of his chest against your body🫁🫂

-Although you didn't end up going all the way that night since you both were so overtaken by sleep, that was a-ok since you both knew that you had the entirety of the weekend to look forward to; there would be plenty of time for Art to show you just how much he loved and adored you (just get ready to be woken up in the morning to Art snapping the waistband of your underwear playfully against your hip and his mouth trailing wet kisses up the side of your thigh-who needs an alarm clock when you have a handsome and horny clown to get you up?😏😉🥵🥴)

Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed😘😘😘🤘🤘🤘

(Lemme know if you want more like this and as always feel free to send prompts☺️)

[mrs-monaghan]

HEAR ME OUT!!!

The cult just a few days ago was harping on tkk's same cardigan then JK came to rain on their parades changing bammie's profile pic with the same exact clothes Jimin was seen wearing rnrkdjdbdjd

Shaz, JK really hates the cult it's insane 🤣😭 Like, he doesn't need to do any of all those things but he lives to torment them. Why is he so—😭😭😭

Mr Jeon Jungkook thinks the vermin suck ass. You heard it here first ☺

On this post here and here I talked about the times JK has debunked V. This also includes when Tkk went for that premiere and then later JK came live which was clearly to show us that he went home ALONE. You know, since the idea of V and JK living together is preposterous

🤣😂🤣 I'm sorry man, that will never not be funny. N let's not forget even though he had spent the day with V and wooga squad, he didn't mention them once. He just went on and on about the movie. Says alot.

Also to include is when V went live at JK's only for JK to make his own live (while folding his calvins) after Vhope had left just so he could let us know V's live was not his call ☕

This is what the man does and has been consistent about it for years...

Which brings me to this video i took from a vermin.

She was going on and on about how inseparable Tkk are. But here is what I noticed that she didn't. Host asks;

V replies;

He makes it seem like it happens everyday or all the time. Did JK let that slide? Hell no. Of course man's had to clarify.

ONLY when there's no gig the next day. Then he took it a step further to specify that when they did play, it wasn't all night. Just up until 2 or 3AM.

Now, antis like to say that shipping makes the guys uncomfortable and makes them change how they behave with eo bla, bla, bla. While I don't believe that to be the case at all, I do believe that the vermin are the reason why JK does this. Because of their treatment of Jimin its like JK decided he will never let them enjoy tkk moments without him tainting them somehow 🤣😂 And I ain't gonna sit here and pretend I don't love this about JK

[literaila]

wedding planner (katsuki bakugo smau)

fem!reader, no quirks, adult life au

life as an event planner is... quieter than planned. mina ashido, your best friend, views this as a challenge. so when she gets engaged to eijirou kirishima it’s no big surprise that she asks you to plan the ceremony. the objective is simple: create the most magical, perfect wedding in just four months... oh, and accept the help of someone you've been running from since college--katsuki bakugo, who conveniently hates you. easy, right?

part two | next part

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

hating bakugo katsuki comes quite naturally to you.

it's something simple. an emotion that builds in the middle of your sternum and collects in your head. you've never had to think too hard about him, or the negative feelings he invokes.

it's not that you consider yourself someone to hold grudges or make automatic assumptions. someone who hates on principle rather than facts. glimpses rather than actions.

in fact, you’d rather remain entirely nonjudgmental in most situations—so that you don’t have to worry about any of it. there are very few people in the world that you can truly say you hate.

but since he spoke his first word to you, you’ve hated him.

or maybe that’s not true. you only vaguely remember it all happening now, like a single peek of a dream you once lived.

remember seeing him across the room and feeling that you knew exactly who he was. getting one look and understanding that he just wasn’t someone for you.

blonde hair, blood eyes, and an immediate distaste for anything involving your presence. his jaw was already set, when you approached, mind already made.

it was pretty clear when he just glared, ignoring whoever had introduced the two of you, your hand outstretched towards him, and scoffed before he simply walked away.

so, really, even before bakugo katsuki spoke his first word to you—you hated him.

or maybe not. maybe you just hated the way he was looking past you automatically, maybe you just hated that he was frowning, maybe you just hated being dismissed so easily.

or maybe you hated him and the fact that he made you angry without even trying.

anger is an invasive species. it lingers in the pit of your chest, waiting for some version of confirmation bias you can reason out of.

and once it begins to grow it leaks elsewhere—into the stories you tell, the people you know, the glances and shared breaths.

it’s pretty obnoxious, just like bakugo katsuki. funny how that works, isn't it?

and, to clarify, you have spoken multiple words to him. this is nothing new. in fact, you’ve shouted bitter remarks at his back and cursed at his ever-glowing smirk. in classrooms, at parties, in the old contemptible apartments your friends lived in.

but it’s just so simple to hate him.

maybe that’s why you’re standing in front of a coffee shop you’ve never been to, staring at the door. it’s 1:07 pm.

it would be pretty easy to leave, really. you could turn around and take the train back home. back to your bed, with its comforting embrace, and your consistently sparking coffee machine. it doesn’t taste too burnt, after all, and who doesn't like some roasted grounds?

you’re already late anyway, so what’s the harm in never showing up? who is bakugo going to tell? mina?

(he will. he definitely will tell mina and by that point, you’ll have lost a client and a friend, and bakugo katsuki will be pointing and laughing at the sad remains of your life. he’ll probably spit on your shivering body—you know, once you can no longer afford to live in your apartment because you’ve been fired--just for fun).

fuck. you should’ve blocked his and mina’s number.

someone pushes past you, going for the door, and you blink. right. because you’re supposed to open it, walk through, and meet with bakugo who you already know is going to chastise you for being late. you're supposed to hate him, and it's all supposed to be easy.

you take a breath. nod once.

what the hell?

this is all his fault anyway. you would’ve been perfectly happy with doing all the work by yourself--throwing sticky notes around and ignoring the ink stains left on your face from nights sleeping at your desk--and letting kirishima and mina believe he assisted you.

as fucking if.

so you walk through the door, delighting for one brief moment in the smell of coffee beans and souls searching for rehabilitation.

this coffee shop is a lot nicer than any of the ones by your house. not that bakugo needs to know that, or that he has good taste.

just a thought, really.

you look around for a single second before you spot him. it’s easy—just one glimpse of the black shirt, overbearing shoulders, and frowning face. and every other person in the shop seems to be purposefully avoiding him, walking at least six feet away from the table he’s procured at all times.

if only you were them.

“oi,” he calls, eyes finding you faster than you'd expected, already burning as you walk towards him—against your better judgment, of course. “i know you’re an idiot but you can’t even read a fuckin’ clock, now?”

you pull the open chair out with your foot, giving bakugo a bland look. your eyes burn a little bit, just looking at him. “no, actually, i can't. they must only teach that at snobby prick school.”

you sit, your body resisting the entire time. you might last five minutes being this close to him—at most.

bakugo doesn’t say anything, but one brow goes up.

“sorry,” you say, almost reflexively. you're supposed to be civil. you can hear mina's voice criticizing, telling you to give him a chance. you continue, completely monotone. “hi, bakugo. how are you?”

he glares. “could be a hell of a lot better, that’s for sure.”

“tell me about it.”

and then there’s a moment where you both stare at each other, silent and waiting.

here’s what you know about bakugo: he’s not afraid to say whatever he’s thinking, but he’s also not the easiest person to talk to. not the type of person you’d ever feel at ease with. easy conversation isn't either of your specialties, and neither is being here all by yourselves.

so instead of anything even remotely normal, instead of getting to the point, you break the silence with, “no coffee?”

his eyes dart down to the table and then back to yours. you can see the point of his teeth when he begins to talk. “not all of us are fuckin’ addicted.”

“well, you don’t have to deal with your mood swings every day," you look around, hoping that a double shot isn't as expensive as the decor would suggest.

“such a flatterer," bakugo drawls, leaning back, "i was waitin’ for you before i ordered,” he tilts his head to the register, waiting.

“i can go up there myself. i’m a big girl."

he scoffs. “you’re a big fuckin’ mess, that’s for sure. and fuckin' broke, according to raccoon eyes. you know what you want?”

“what i want is to get out of here as soon as possible. so thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need any coffee.”

“ya sure, crazy eyes?” he's smirking like he already knows that he got you.

your eyes narrow. “don’t call me that.”

“think i'll call you whatever the hell i want.”

“then i think this partnership is already over. promise broken.”

“tch," bakugo taps a finger against the table, "i think you’ll fuckin’ reconsider once you take a good look in the mirror—did you sell your bed for some shitty cash?”

“did you sell your soul for a first-class superiority complex?” you retort, so brightly it's almost innocent.

bakugo only rolls his eyes. “didn’t you agree to come here, dumbass?”

“didn’t you demand that i show up?”

bakugo’s lip twitches, minutely. he sighs, turning an arm over to check his watch. he moves calculatingly, both of you waiting for another moment to pounce. but there isn’t time for that.

you could spout insults at him for hours, and he could do just the same. it's happened before.

but time won't slow down for that, and you've only got seventy-three days left to figure everything out.

bakugo waves a hand towards you, gesturing at your bag. “just fuckin’ show me what you have already.”

“why should i?”

he scoffs. “okay don’t. try gettin' shit done all by your goddamn self. least ill get a laugh when you crash and burn.”

“this is literally my job—“

“so show me what you fuckin’ got,” bakugo leans forward, speaking soft enough for it to be a whisper, but vehemently for it to be a threat.

and it’s safe to say that you’ve heard a lot of those from him.

“fine,” you grind out, not wanting to lose, or to let him win, but someone will have to give eventually--and bakugo can watch in awe as you figure it out yourself. he can beg at your feet for something to do. (he can talk to kirishima about what you should be doing and report back to mina to mess up your lift even more). win or lose, you don't break eye contact as you grab your bag, shoving around until you find your planner.

not that there’s a lot of planning being done. it's mainly doodles and spare numbers you’ve written down and never called. but bakugo doesn’t need to know that. he just needs to know that you're a professional, and you'll professionally shove his words back into his throat until they reach his stomach.

you flip to a page with a list of tasks that still need to be done, pen smeared across the page. none of them have been checked off--but that's not exactly your fault. you'd be getting a lot more done if bakugo hadn't made you come here... probably.

“i’ve scheduled a couple tours of venues mina told me she liked,” you say, sharp, tactful. you point to random notes on the page, hoping he can’t read. “but not for a couple of weeks. there’s cake testing, a meeting with a florist, billing from a designer mina chose, catering options, and i—“

“have you made any decisions?”

you purse your lips, moving the planner back towards you. “it’s been a month.”

he laughs. “so that’s a fuckin’ no.”

“it’s not that simple,” you tell him, snidely. “i need to talk to mina and kiri about options and it’s not like they’re going to choose right away so—“

“shitty hair told me you were taking care of it.”

“yes, that’s what a wedding planner does,” you smile. “good job, bakugo.”

he bares a canine, grinning. “no, smart ass. he said you get to make every damn decision. that they trust you to figure shit out.”

“i still need to double-check and make sure they’re happy with the progress—“

“sounds like you’re too fuckin' scared to do it yourself.” he leans back for the first time in two minutes, arms crossed against his chest.

that’s another thing you hate about bakugo katsuki. he takes all of the air and spits it right back at you. he's like a reverse black hole--just meaner.

“why would i be scared?”

“because you’re a shitty event planner.”

he's testing you, you know. trying to get a rise out of you because he can always do it so easily. trying to rile you up so he can win, so you'll walk out of the door and he'll get to say that he tried, that he was being a good friend--

and damn it, it's working. it's going to work. but you have very little dignity left, and no patience for bakugo katsuki and his arrogance.

“well,” you start, standing up. your chair screeches across the floor, a protest all of its own. “it’s been so lovely meeting with you, bakugo, but i think we’re—“

“am i fuckin' wrong?” he asks, serious, watching you with clinical eyes.

“are you a jackass?” you answer, shoving your notebook back into your bag. he doesn't deserve your lists, your time, or any of the energy you've given to him so willingly.

he snorts. “you’ve never planned a damn wedding. you have no fuckin’ clue what you’re doing.”

“oh, wow," you nod your head enthusiastically, "you know what, you’re really something,” you say, giving him another sickly sweet smile.

bakugo hasn't flinched at you once in the almost decade you've known him and maybe that's the thing you hate the most. hate that every emotion is written on your face in some fine ink, but he's a blank slate. hate that he gets to sit there and berate you, make you feel small, and have no repercussions for it.

hate that he's just looking at you, waiting for you. hate him so much.

you continue anyway. “not everyone would be able to figure out that i’m worried about messing up my best friend’s wedding—“ bakugo tries to cut in, but you hold a hand up. “no, really. it's pretty amazing, bakugo. you should think about going back to school for a common sense degree, since you’re so fucking great at using it," you shake your head, turning away abruptly.

you know that he’s still smirking.

“i’m not too proud to admit that i'm scared, bakugo. some of us can deal with our emotions.”

“ya sure?" he sounds amused. "cause it seems like you’ve got fuckin’ jack done and don’t know what to do next. wouldn’t call that dealing with your fuckin’ fear. i’d call it being a coward. freezing instead of tryin' to do a fuckin' thing.”

you glare at the wall in front of you, feeling bad for the person just sitting on their computer in your line of sight. “so what? it's not like you’re doing anything to help. you have no idea how to plan anything, so don't act like you'd do any better than me.”

“you fuckin’ sure about that?” you hear a loud noise, and bakugo is standing right beside you, his looming presence a brand at your side. “i’ve never planned a wedding but i know how to get shit done.”

you snort, finally looking at him again. “uh-huh.”

he sneers. “i’ll fuckin’ show you. c’mon.”

your pause, eyes narrowing. people are moving around the two of you, coffee cups exuding steam, eyes curious as they roam over you. bakugo taps his pockets, not bothering to notice a single one of them, and then moves beside you, heading towards the door.

“wha—what?" you ask, frowning. "where are you going?

“you gonna stand there like a damn idiot, or are you going to fuckin’ follow me?” he doesn’t turn his head, just keeps going.

and even though you’d never follow bakugo katsuki anywhere, even though you’d rather die than be alone with him, rather be broke and friendless than plan a wedding with him—you start walking.

“what the hell,” you say, and have to speed up to catch him.

if hating bakugo is easy, then following him is even easier.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

every comment and repost makes my day. thank you for reading!

next part

taglist: @ghostlykey @bakugouswh0r3 @ita606 @keylozinzazane @themultifandomgirl @akuixe @the2ndl @rednicotine @your-mum3000 @faetoraa @ineedmorethananap @augustraine

[raayllum]

today on TDP's consistent re-contextualization: the Sunfire elf tribunal in 4x06 (because I was rewatching and noticed some interesting set up / parallels for S7)

1) The dispute being a mourning ritual at all, since arc 2 (like the rest of the show) has an emphasis on grief. This is particularly evident since S7 is going to focus on bringing the dead back into the land of the living and affirming that life-death theme (whereas in S1, we didn't get any funeral rituals outside of S1 in Katolis; S4 comparatively shows two funeral rites)

2) Death being seen as "the dark night" (Aaravos wants to bring about eternal night / is a fate worse than death) and light guiding the spirit through said darkness till it be unified wholly with its primal / the light. Don't even think I gotta include the 6x06 screencaps for that, or the fact that Aaravos has corrupted both the moon and the sun Nexuses in an attempt to solidify an eternal night of literal death.

3) Aaravos saying that his years with Leola couldn't hold a candle to deeper mysteries; Callum refusing to snuff out his Light (Rayla) and therefore not being truly permanently Lost to begin with, no matter what may happen to him with dark magic. This is also interwoven with N'than in the same episode offering to help the group not get lost on the Path of Despair, which... yeah, hi metaphor for depression and hopelessness amid grief.

The fact that possession equals being dead or already dead, as well as dark magic's associations with death... vs light and life. Yeah. Yeah.

4) The emphasis on cruel punishment / rashness in the name of the greater good even when that means tearing a family further apart or the punishment being unnecessary (all around) and the victim(s) not being listened to no matter how much you begged, bargained, or pleaded (looking at you 1x03 Rayla and Runaan as well).

5) The application of accountability as well as the cruel motif rearing its head for the first time in arc 2, as it will become a mainstay

She had every opportunity to consider the pain she could cause. And she did not. She was callous. She was careless. She was cruel.

6) Both Aaravos (whose name means between light and dark) and Lucia (whose name means light) are involved in the trials we see in 4x06 and 6x06 respectively. Because Lucia is not killed and is shown mercy and compassion, she's able to contribute positively as a member of society in a way that also addresses her initial concerns; she takes on a positive purpose after the harm she's caused. She is tasked with rebuilding. Because Aaravos is not shown true mercy, and his daughter is brutally executed, he grows to no longer care about any harm caused, and his life takes on a negative purpose. He tasks himself with destruction. Also typical TDP emphasis on Choices throughout.

7) The contrast of "She is not innocent" being true in Lucia's case and untrue in Leola's case work together to set up Rayla's trial in S7. They also bode well for Callum's character arc. If he does dark magic again, he may not be 'innocent' on that level, but that doesn't matter; he still deserves life and love and to be saved / spared ("I'm not going to kill you"). The same could be true on Claudia's level (and was true for Viren, as he was imprisoned rather than executed).

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", not much of anything this part tbh. eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: THE SPIN OFF IS FINALLY HERE! of course, because I'm obsessive I've already written 3 full parts... I suck at writing beginnings though, so bear with me as things are a lil slow in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Hunter and Hunted; and be prepared for MORE smut cause its SUKUNA OF COURSE.

index part one | part two

part one word count: 2,762

Christmas had come and gone, and you had stepped into the new year with an even angrier outlook on life than you’d had before. sure, last year had been rough; you’d been cheated on and promptly dumped for someone else, and the bittersweet icing on the cake was when you found out your ex had gotten engaged over the holiday season. you’d done what any sane person would do – drank away your feelings.

the past few weeks, your friends could often find you at the bottom of a mug, angry eyes watching as you toyed with the coaster at any bar you’d walked into. you need – no, wanted – vengeance. you imagined the look on your ex’s face if you ran into him with another, maybe hotter, guy on your arm. men these days were only looking to get their dicks wet, how hard could it be to snag one?

you came to realize it was incredibly hard.

any man that gave you the time of day seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel, consistently sleezy and looking like they hadn’t showered in days. or worse, still lived in their mother’s basement. the men you worked with were no better. constantly watching your ass as you walked by, attempting to slyly cop a feel in the break room, and so on.

so, here you were, walking down the street to a pub around the corner from your job to grab a drink. you had a one-track mind for this sort of thing, oblivious to your surroundings until two men stepped into your path to stop you.

“excuse me.” you muttered as you took a step to the side, trying to go around them. before you could get back to your mission one of their hands reached out and snagged your wrist. ugh, more disgusting pigs. “I’ll ask you once to kindly let go off me.”

“c’mon pretty, we just wanna talk t’ ya.” the bigger, burlier one gave you a sly grin that made your skin crawl.

“yea, walking around with a skirt that short we couldn’t help but notice ya.” the one holding your wrist tightened his grip slightly. your frown stretched down your face as you took a moment to assess the situation. what was it your friends always said? right – be loud, draw attention, scream fire and whatnot.

“oi, get your fucking hands off me!” you shouted, tugging your wrist against the firm hold.

“what do ya expect when ya dress like a whore?” one of them snapped as they stepped closer. you were only dressed for work; skirt that came down mid-thigh, button up blouse that covered every inch of your skin, so how was this outfit whorish?

“she’s got a mouth on her, huh?” they nudged each other as you struggled to get free. with your free hand, you made a fist and pulled it back. you wouldn’t be able to seriously injure them, that was for sure, but you could at least distract and get away.

“I said leave me the hell alone, twatbags!” you shouted, fist shaking but staying firm in a pulled-back position. if they made one more move, you’d muster up the courage and hit one of them.

suddenly, both men went wide-eyed in front of you and your wrist was released from it’s prison. hah, so my scare tactics worked, you thought. you’d have to pat yourself on the back later for this achievement. “aw, little ole me got you boys scared? looks like you’re about to wet your pants.” you smirked, crossing your arms in triumph.

until their eyes traveled from you, to over your head.

“these guys bothering you?”

your body tensed at the deep, baritone voice from behind you. so that’s what had the men backing off – but that scared? whoever was behind you had to be huge, like a wrestler or something. you imagine big, bulging muscles and a towering figure, and you gulped.

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone.” whoever was behind you continued, and with each word you almost shivered. his voice exuded strength, even something like anger laced in his tone. or was it just annoyance? “oh, forgot to add the twatbags part. that was a good descriptor.”

the two men stepped back and the other man stepped forward, now standing slightly in front of you. you dared to scan his figure – not a body builder, but definitely not small. he wore a black compression tee that showed off his muscles, and you could see the tattoos running all across his skin, intertwined and connected everywhere you looked. your eyes caught on his light pink hair, slicked back but disheveled on the sides as if he’d been running a hand through the strands.

“while I’d love the entertainment of watching her take a swing at you, I don’t think you want to see what happens if you retaliated.” the man merely crossed his arms before looking down at you. he did in fact tower, maybe just over you but he was still above average height. something flickered in his eyes as they met yours, and you could only stare at him speechlessly.

he hadn’t even had to do anything before the men scoffed and walked away, albeit hurriedly like a fire had been lit under their asses. you and the man watched as they scurried down the sidewalk, and you finally let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight.

“thanks for that. although I’m pretty sure I had it covered.” you felt him look at you as you watched the distance – double checking that they were in fact gone before you left the protection of the stranger.

he chuckled lowly as he shook his head. “looks like you did. but, I thought I’d provide backup just in case.”

but before he could continue, you were already walking away in the opposite direction of the two men. all you had wanted was a damn drink, and by god you were going to get one.

you could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind you, but you tried to push it out of your mind, focusing instead on the door to the bar in front of you. with a swift motion, you yanked it open, stepping inside and hoping to lose the stranger following you.

but when you heard those same footsteps following you in, your patience snapped. you turned around, irritation bubbling to the surface. “are you following me?” you demanded, locking eyes with the man who had been trailing behind you. “do I need to be worried about you too?”

he just chuckled, his casual demeanor only adding to your annoyance. “do you think I owe you something now?” you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though it was clear he didn’t take you seriously at all.

his laughter echoed in the small space; a mocking sound that only made your frustration grow. “actually,” he said, his voice steady, “I came back to finish the beer I left to save your ass.” he gestured nonchalantly at a knocked-over bar stool and the half-empty drink sitting nearby, the remnants of the drink he’d been enjoying before the whole mess began.

the heat of embarrassment crept up your neck as you processed his words. “oh.” you mumbled, feeling the awkwardness seep into your skin. "sorry. considering the kind of men I’ve just dealt with, I didn’t know if you were some sleazeball too.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “sleazeball? you sound like my little brother,” he said with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

you couldn't help but throw a jab back. “then he has good taste in vocabulary.”

the man’s grin only grew wider, clearly amused by the bite in your tone. his eyes glinted with something like genuine entertainment as he took a step closer. “my name’s Ryomen Sukuna, by the way,” he said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

you narrowed your eyes, studying him with suspicion. there was something about the way he carried himself that set your nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable giving my full name to a complete stranger,” you replied, your tone a mix of caution and defiance.

Sukuna simply shrugged, as though your response didn’t faze him in the least. “but I just introduced myself, after acting as your knight in shining armor, I might add.” he gave a lazy stretch, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to challenge him further.

you didn’t back down. “that doesn’t mean I know you now,” you said, your eyes still narrowed. you turned away from him, flagging down the bartender who had just started to clean the counter. “a drink. whiskey, neat,” you said, your voice firm as you slid a few bills across the bar.

normally, you wouldn’t dare drink hard liquor on a weekday at five o’clock, but goddamn you needed it now. your nerves were on edge, but a stronger feeling had settled within you since the start of this particular conversation.

he was unbelievably attractive. pierced ears, tattooed skin, and a smile reminiscent of the devil across his lips. so so not your usual type. but then again, your type had cheated on you. Sukuna’s presence was almost overwhelming – strength, confidence or cockiness – the air stilled around him like it was intruding his space.

Sukuna watched you with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “then get to know me,” he said, his voice low and almost coaxing, as if the idea of you refusing was an amusing thought to him.

you didn’t hesitate in your response. “buy me a drink and I’ll consider it,” you shot back, your tone playful but laced with a challenge. you’d be damned if you’d make it that easy for him, knowing all to well the type of men that seem to flirt with you always turn out to be disgusting.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your boldness, but said nothing as the bartender set your drink down in front of you. it was clear you weren’t going to make things easy for him, but that only seemed to fuel his curiosity.

you were already fascinating him. from Sukuna’s first look at you, ready to stand your ground against two grown men, to now acting defiant against him even as he could see the tension in your shoulders with every sentence you spoke. were you feigning confidence or was it real? he liked the way you talked back to him; it made the conversation more entertaining, and he eased into it with pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes never left you as you took your drink from the bartender, the smooth amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. he didn't immediately respond, just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression playing across his features. for a moment, you wondered if he was going to let the challenge slide.

then, to your surprise, he pushed off the bar with a slow, deliberate movement and took a step toward you. his presence felt heavier now, more intense. heat rolled off of him and over you, his cologne drowned your senses. “a drink, huh?” he mused, his voice taking on a playful edge, like he was toying with you. “that’s all it takes to get you to talk to me?”

you took a sip of your whiskey, cringing at the burn as you met his gaze head-on. “depends on the drink,” you replied, the hint of a smirk curling at your lips. you had no intention of giving in that quickly, not when he still felt like a puzzle you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost predatory, like he was enjoying the chase. “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising a hand to signal the bartender. his attention briefly shifted to the man behind the counter, but when it returned to you, his expression had softened, just a fraction, though the amusement never fully left his eyes. “is whiskey your usual, then?” he asked, his tone suddenly more casual, almost conversational.

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. “I’m not sure it’s the drink I’m worried about,” you said, leaning in just slightly, your voice quieter now. “it’s the company.”

he gave you a look that said he wasn’t fazed by your words, not in the slightest. "trust me," he replied smoothly, "I’m better company than most people you'd find in this place."

he wasn't wrong. there was something undeniably magnetic about him, an energy that drew you in despite your better judgment. you could sense there was more to him than what he was showing, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after.

the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of Sukuna — a glass of something darker, likely whiskey as well, and more expensive than the one you had just ordered. Sukuna didn’t touch it immediately, instead shifting his stance so he was fully facing you, his eyes now narrowing just slightly, as if sizing you up. like you were a snack he wanted to take a bite out of.

"alright, I’ll bite," he said, his voice a low murmur as he watched you closely. “what’s your story?”

you took another sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “maybe I’ll tell you,” you said slowly, deliberately, “but it’s going to cost you more than just a drink.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into another half-smile, his confidence never wavering. “I’m up for the challenge. what’s the price?” his tone had shifted again, all business now, but there was still an edge of that playful intensity behind it.

for the briefest moment, you almost felt like you were playing a game with him, something neither of you had agreed on but that you both instinctively understood. you hesitated, eyes scanning his face for any hint of vulnerability — but there was none.

“get me another round, and we’ll talk,” you finally said, giving him a sly smile that matched the gleam in your eyes.

Sukuna didn’t need another word. he turned away, reaching for the glass, a quiet satisfaction in his movements. he knew the game was far from over, but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be the one to win it.

you lifted your eyes to meet his, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. he was still an enigma, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but with an edge that hinted at something more dangerous beneath.

“you’re a man of few words,” you observed, your voice playful but with an undercurrent of challenge. “or is it that you’re waiting for me to spill my life story?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your attempt to provoke him. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he replied smoothly, voice low and even. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in a way that made you want to pull back, but also something else—a curiosity, maybe even an unspoken challenge.

you took another sip, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “and what’s in it for me?” you asked, your voice steady but carrying a hint of sarcasm. “why should I bother getting to know you?”

Sukuna’s smile deepened, almost like he was savoring the moment. “because,” he said, his voice now tinged with something a little darker, “I’m not just any stranger. and I think you’ll find out, sooner or later, that I’m worth your time.”

his confidence was almost infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that something about him intrigued you. maybe it was his audacity, or maybe it was the mystery that clung to him like a second skin. or possibly, that he could be the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on. either way, you weren’t ready to walk away just yet.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied, a small challenge in your voice, but this time, there was a flicker of curiosity in your gaze too.

Sukuna met your challenge with a steady, unwavering stare, his smirk never fading. “then I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out, won’t you?”

it wasn’t an offer. it wasn’t even a question. it was a promise. and whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to realize that you might just be caught up in his game—whether you wanted to be or not.

it wasn’t an offer, or even a question. it was a damn promise. whether you realized it, you were beginning to get caught up in his game – it was inevitable.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya I tagged some people that interacted A TON with Hunter and Hunted who I appreciate so so much ; so if you were tagged and would like to be removed just let me know! ♡ I hope this fic is as loved as Hunter and Hunted! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[exhaled-spirals]

« [W]hat if I told you that you will witness many strange and marvellous beings, creatures and sensations along your path; that you will experience new colours, shapes and textures – make contact with fields and trees, and with people from a wealth of backgrounds; invigorating games, vehicles, animals, the touch of mud and flesh, sweet and savoury foods, new companions, the experience of love and friendship, of anger and hurt, of aloneness and contemplation. And what if I said that all these experiences will lead to fresh ideas, creations and relationships… to a personality with choice and possibility as well as limits and apprehensions; and that these limits and apprehensions will point to a vast background of sky and consciousness, a background that will give you the feeling of being a part of something much greater than yourself? […]

Would you want to go? […]

It is much easier, at least ostensibly, to live in isolation from other people. It is much easier to develop a relationship to a leader, a party, a doctrine – or, for that matter, a television show (or set of shows) – and a passive-receptive lifestyle than it is to live in direct contact with people, with the exchange of ideas, with the diversity of perspectives, with wonder and surprise, and with unsettling yet potentially edifying truths about life.

Moreover, it becomes easier to live virtually […]. The power in these situations is enormous, and yet it is so often about trivial matters […]. While there is clearly no antidote as such to this problem, there is a sensibility […] that, in my view, powerfully counters the roboticist trend, and this sensibility is ‘awe’. I think of awe as the humility and wonder, or sense of adventure, toward living. It has also been defined as a sense of vastness that defies accommodation. However one defines it, the sensibility of awe subverts mechanised living. […]

That being said, one of the challenges with awe is that it is so often framed as a ‘high’, or short-term lift. That is why I distinguish between the short-term jolt of awe, or what I call ‘quick-boil’ awe, and the life-changing ‘slow-simmer’ form of awe.

The quick-boil form of awe tends to link with activities such as hiking through woods, falling intensely in love, taking a mind-altering drug, playing a vigorous sport, and travelling to exotic places. The slow-simmer awe, on the other hand, transforms the exhilarating energy of quick-boil awe into something long-lasting – such as staying open to the daunting scenery of every day, making a lifestyle of wonder and discovery, delving deep into a project or craft, and consistently engaging with life’s many-sidedness, whether unveiled in one’s work or love life, in child-rearing, friendships, or the larger community of which one is a part. […]

The problem, however, is that we are so susceptible to commodification in our culture, and to the conversion of substantive reforms into expedient elixirs, that we need to stay ever vigilant about the larger path that is imperative for us.

In a nutshell, if awe is to be a life-changing experience, it will need to encompass something that is all too often overlooked in today’s prepackaged world: anxiety, and in particular, life-enhancing anxiety. Life-enhancing anxiety is invigorating anxiety. It is anxiety that enables us to live with and make the best of the depth and mystery of existence. It also enables us to live with and make the best of the paradoxes of existence, such as our capacity for wonder and discovery in the midst of apprehension and even dread. Too often, however, we ignore the paradoxes of anxiety and fail to do the work necessary to go beneath the surfaces of life, to unveil the fuller and deeper questions of life.

Among these questions are: given the spectre of death, how is one willing to live? What is the purpose and meaning of one’s life, of the life of one’s culture? How do we shape ourselves and our societies so that we can pursue what we love? How do we avoid war and tyranny, sexism and bigotry? […]

[S]low-simmer awe is a […] layered and nuanced experience. For example, if we search beyond the surfaces of [it], beyond the readily observable, we often find the element of unease, of apprehension, and even of dread. Put more plainly, when we peel back the layers of slow-simmer awe, we often find death […]. Consider, for example, how the complex symbol of death – or the groundlessness and helplessness of our condition – looms abidingly in classical art: painting, music and literature. This is because the element of death looms over and intensifies the elements of grace, beauty and compassion that exemplify such work. […]

This is also why I have concerns about recent trends in awe research that de-emphasise or even reject these darker elements of unease.

[…] Here, then, is my summary of the capacities we need in order to optimise slow-boil awe. Or, to put it conversely, these are the capacities that are likely to atrophy the more we model ourselves after machines:

The capacity to slow down.

The capacity to optimise presence, or the holding and illuminating of that which is palpably significant within ourselves, and between ourselves and others.

The capacity to deeply reflect on ourselves and our society.

The capacity to act on our reflections about ourselves and society, to make available a more awe-based path for ourselves and our world.

The capacity to savour the delights of life […] even as they are tinged with sadness and pain.

The capacity to be deeply moved throughout one’s lifetime.

The capacity to focus on what one loves.

The capacity to see the big picture of life and its possibilities. […]

The capacity to appreciate mystery.

The capacity to appreciate the fact that we are alive.

The capacity to nurture balance (for example, between fragility and boldness).

The capacity for solitude.

The capacity to commune with nature.

The capacity to deeply appreciate travel and the ‘foreign’. […]

The capacity to give oneself over – discerningly – to the unknowable.

The capacity to trust the ultimately unknowable.

Let’s give Becker, who grappled mightily with the cost of automation, the final word:

Whatever [the human being] does on this planet has to be done in the lived truth of the terror of creation, of the grotesque, of the rumble of panic underneath everything. Otherwise it is false. Whatever is achieved must be achieved from within the subjective energies of creatures, without deadening, with the full exercise of passion, of vision, of pain, of fear, and of sorrow. »

— Kirk Schneider, "We need raw awe"

[mellowdiplomattrashpsychic]

Damian had to close his eyes, the green abruptly assaulting his eyes with how bright it was.

It was suffocating, like he was swimming into the league's training pool depths. The water pressure was similar to this, making him instinctively hold his breath.

It was wrong. He knew he should just give in. He already did this much. He couldn't take it back. He was halfway there. Just a little more, and he'll be with Danyal forever.

He just had to breathe.

Just as he was about to let go of the last seconds he had to live, he saw a change in light through his eyelids. He felt the pressure vanish just as quickly.

He coughed a gasping breath, hearing a wince of sympathy.

"Oh, right. I forgot about how people react to a change of ambient ecto quality... Sorry. Just- just take slow, deep breaths. You might feel a bit tingly, but that's just your body filtering out the polluted ecto and adjusting to the more pure version."

Damian followed Danyal's instructions, taking slow, deep breaths instead of quicker ones. It seemed that Grayson's breathing techniques to calm oneself wasnt applicable to those in the land of the dead. There was no need to hold his breath. It made exhaling difficult, as if the air had somehow gained consistency.

A few breaths in, and he could feel what his brother had referred to. He felt as though he were drugged, feeling as though he was barely clinging to his physical body. He felt ashamed that he couldn't get himself to let go.

He cracked his eyes open, blinking out the black spots and struggling to make sense of the shapes around him. But once he did, he saw buildings, a road, a starry night sky, streetlights, a few people-

Danyal moved in front of him, smiling softly.

"Feeling ok?"

"A little out of body, but the process should be over soon. I swear to you, it... it's not my intention to still be so... attached."

Please forgive me. I swear I'll join you soon. I don't know why my body can't follow my mind or heart.

Danyal's smile became smaller, making Damian's heart drop.

"It's fine, Ahki. I don't expect you to detach yourself from them. They're your family." Danyal pulled Damian into an embrace, a hand combing through his hair. "I know... I know people aren't fond of ghosts. But that's ok. I don't mind, I just... I'm happier with you. I would've backed off if you weren't comfortable with me."

Damian bit his inner cheek, hands reaching out and grasping the thin clothes Danyal wore. No matter how much Danyal altered them, they would always feel thin, as if they would tear as easily as wet paper. But that was not the case, not when they would have crumbled and torn apart with how tightly he held onto them at that very moment.

"They were worried about you. That you were sacrificing something by staying on the living plane." His voice wavered. He didn't mean to, he didn't. He swore it.

"Ahki?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't lie to me."

"When I close my eyes and listen to what you say, it's easy to tell when you're lying."

Damian's blood ran cold.

"I-I wasn't-" He tried to pull away. He tried to make Danyal look him in the eyes. To show his sincerity.

Danyal only held him more tightly.

"But you hid something. Please... please tell me, am I bothering you? Did you really not want me around?"

"No! No, that's not- n-not not-" His voice wasn't cooperating. He took a quick breath in his frustration, only to quickly regret it when it got stuck in his throat, encouraging his gag reflex that soon turned into a violent chain of coughs.

"Hey, hey, deep breaths. Deep breaths, Ahki. You want me around, I heard you. Breathe, it's ok. We're ok. I'm not mad or anything. I just needed to make sure you actually wanted me around. I'm sorry that I scared you like that."

It was difficult to regulate his breathing, his coughing fit making him gasp at air quickly out of reflex. It was dizzying, it was worsening, he couldn't breathe.

He could feel Danyal letting go, making his heart race despite the low oxygen levels.

Please don't leave, I'm sorry.

He reached out, hearing a distant apology before his nose was pinched and mouth was covered. His body spasmed, attempting to continue to gasp for air. His hands twitched, the temptation to grab one of his many weapons high.

But he couldn't. He couldn't do it again. Not to him. Not again.

He felt his heart start to slow, and his body quit acting foolish. That's when the hands left his face, allowing him to breathe deeply. It was slow, he was too drained to even attempt to gasp for air.

He fell forward onto a cool surface. A body.

Danyal.

Danyal suffocated him.

He deserved it, but it hurt nonetheless.

"Ahki..."

Why is there a cold ticklish feeling trailing down his face? Was he crying? When did he start crying?

"Shhh, I'm sorry, but you were going to drown if I didn't get you to stop coughing or gasping. Just a few more minutes, and I won't have to do that ever again, I promise."

"Ahki... Ahki, 'm sorry..."

His head felt so floaty, but his body still felt heavy. Why? Just why couldn't he follow through?

"There’s-..." Danyal let out a sigh. "What are you sorry for, Damian?"

"You asked me to... you asked me vome with you." His breaths still felt short. "But I couldn't follow through. I still can't follow it through."

"..."

He should've been worried about Danyal's silence, but he couldn't even keep track of time. How fast was he talking? Was he slurring his words? He felt so dizzy still. He felt like he was floating.

"I thought about it. I thought about it to the point that I became... anxious. Father and Richard... Todd, Brown, Caine, Pennyworth, and even Drake care so much... I didn't... I didn't want to hurt them by dying."

He was almost there. He shouldn't have struggled even if he didn't end up causing any bodily harm. He shouldn't have even attempted to reach for his weapons.

"They were scared. They're scared, please don't blame them. It's my fault, Danny... it's mine. It's my fault they tried to send you away. I want- I want to stay with you."

Was he still talking? It sounds like gibberish, words not sounding like any he recognized.

"Damian... Damian, I didn't- Fuck, I didn't mean it that way!" Danyal roughly pulled him off, a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady and the other shakily cupping his cheek. He was letting Damian see him, he wanted him to look at him. "I don't want you to die, Damian."

Damian's lips pursed, brows furrowing in confusion and denial.

"Don't lie to me-"

"Look at me, Damian! Look at me and see if I'm lying!"

Damian focused on Danyal's face, searching for his giveaways.

"I don't want you dead." Damian searched more desperately. "I want you to live, Damian. I want you alive. I want my brother alive. I don't want you dead."

He repeated it over and over until Damien glared at him and covered his mouth.

"I understand, I hear you, I-" He jumped, quickly pulling away in disgust. "You licked me!"

Danny only gave him an innocent and saintly smile in response.

Ugh.

"You're disgusting."

"But you love me!"

"Unfortunately."

Danyal giggled, pulling away and crossing his legs, now hovering an inch over the grassy ground.

Damian let out a slow breath, still feeling drained but not as terrified and filled with shame as before. He felt like he could breathe freely. He could still have Danyal by his side and live with the rest of his family without any guilt.

He still deserved some form of punishment, but it was fine. He was fine for now. Perhaps... Perhaps Danyal would consider everything up to this point as punishment enough. Even if it wasn't enough, that seemed like something Danyal would choose to do.

"Damian?"

"If you did not want me to pass, then why am I such poor condition? Where are we, if not the afterlife?"

Danyal smiled sheepishly.

"Right. So you know how the Lazarus Pits had that power to elongate life to the fatally injured? Well, it turns out that it's because it's made of ectoplasm, runoff more specifically. But there's other types. The one that's affecting you to this point is ambient ectoplasm. You could think of it like air. Gotham is filled with polluted ambient ectoplasm because of the amount of curses there, and it's pretty low on it since there's a lot of shades.

Here, though, we have pure ambient ectoplasm directly from the Infinite Realms, where the afterlife resides. So it's pure, and there's a lot of it. But since you're used to Gotham's ectoplasm level, your baby core needs to accommodate itself. You should be good to move around soon if not already."

"..." Damian turned away from Danyal and looked at their new surroundings. "Where exactly are we then?"

"Oh! We're in Amity Park, a town in Illinois. Not a very good welcome, but uh, yeah. This was last minute. I would've had a party set up with everyone- which reminds me! I need to call Jazz. She's my adoptive older sister, by the way. She's nice, a bit weird when it comes to psychoanalyzing people, don't pay much attention to it. She's cool, you'll get along live a forest fire!"

"Those are dangerous, Danyal. I feel as though I should be concerned with your apparent interest in arson."

"See! That's something she would say!"

"For good reason." Damian smirked.

"Rude!"

Dcxdp

Just thinking of like a demon twins au where danny finds out damian is no longer under their grandfathers rule and goes to visit him in ghost form.

And damian is grieving all over again. Because thats his little brother, dead at his hands. Never able to grow up and live a full life. Just this weird mirror version of it. And now that damians embraced his fathers way of preserving life it feels even more of a waste and he mourns the experiences they could've had together. It felt like less of a blow when he was still in the league and surviving wasnt much of a life. Danyal was most likely happier at rest then there, but now? Now damian wishes they had more time.

Danny not realizing hes forgotten to tell his brother hes actually still alive. keeps saying that damian should come with him. See his home, meet his friends, Etc. Damian thinking danyal wants to drag him to the afterlife. Considers it even, because he owes him that much. Scared by his own thoughts and telling bruce or dick about it. And theyre both grief stricken and furious. Just this whole misunderstanding snowballing. Another son but one whos been lost before they could ever meet. One theyd never been able to know. Who never got the chance to be a child before his time was cut short. And everyone wanting to find a way to lay danny to rest without him stealing damian away too. Bruce desperate to meet this imprint of a son he never met but terrified of it taking away the son he still has.

Lol thinking of like 100 ways this could go.

Bruce calling in constantine. Danny feeling betrayed that they called someone to banish him? He thought damian would be happy to see him? Would accept him. Thought he could meet his father as well.

Or

Damian making him a grave and showing him that he can "rest" now like hed never been properly laid to rest with the league. Danny thinking its either a) a funny joke or b) finally realizes whats going on.

Or

damian offering to go with him as long as hes able to come back? He still wants to live his life and there are others in dcu who can go between realms (sorta i guess?) Danny being like yeah? No duh we'll come back xD damian being like??? When he sees amity lol.

[electronicfoxnerd]

Okay. Something I want to propose. Let the 55 and 4 fans hate on Charles as much as they want. Don't defend, don't try to snark back. This is clearly therapeutic to them, so just let them. Remember, people have ragged on Max before for being 'whiny' and 'selfish' as well. Don't fight it. Let it happen. Let them have their fun and let them go on their way to Williams.

Keep in mind who was the youngest ferrari pole sitter and race winner. Remember who out qualified the Sebastian Vettel both years in which they were teammates (This is not a jab at Seb. He's a 4 time champ, I'm fully aware. I'm specifically talking about when they were in Ferrari.)

Remember who was the first Ferrari driver since 2010 to win Monza, and who won it again this year starting from p4 against the fastest cars on the grid pulling off a fantastic one stopper and one of the drives of the season. Remember the driver who has consistently outperformed all the shitty cars and strategies he's been given throughout all these years.

Remember the driver that always gives Max Verstappen a fight regardless of said shitty cars he's been given. Remember the driver who again won in Austin from p4 even though his teammate started from P3.

Remember the driver that used to always accept the shit thrown at him by his team with grace though he could've gone apeshit on them for their pure blunders at times. I know I would have.

Remember the driver who is the darling of the tifosi. Who has been undyingly and unfailingly loyal to the red team and the red dream, who has said he only wants a championship if it is with Ferrari. And now understand why he was the driver Ferrari wanted to keep.

Don't let twitter make you bitter (I swear I didn't mean for that to rhyme, but i guess it makes sense). Charles is an exceptional driver, he lives and breathes this team. Always has and always will. And we will be right there with him.

Now keep calm, be smart and don't give into rage bait no matter how much you want to, click away and move on. Remember, they're leaving anyway. They're not worth you energy. Not anymore.

[herballwitch]

Types of Divination

Hello, My name is Alva Tauri! I am an herbalist, spirit worker, tarot and oracle reader, and lunar and herbal witch dedicated to closing the education gap when it comes to herbalism and witch practices!

Today, I thought I'd discuss some common forms of divination for those who are wanting to get into divination practices, but aren't entirely sure where they'd like to start.

NOTE: there are infinite forms of divination out there. I will not be listing every single form in existence. If none of these methods seem right for you, that's okay! do more research and find what fits you.

ASTROLOGY

a form of divination where one interprets the movements and relative positions of celestial bodies (stars, planets, etc.) and how they influence us. astrology gives users an understanding of the situations in our lives.

BIBLIOMANCY

a form divination where the practitioner randomly chosen passages in books, often religious books or Grimoires. This method consist of picking a random passage from a book to answer a question.

CARTOMANCY

a form of divination where the user uses cards to get answers to questions. There are many different forms of cartomancy, including the use of playing cards and oracle decks, but tarot reading is the most common practice of cartomancy. (learn more here)

NECROMANCY

a form of divination where the practitioner communicates with the dead via summons or communication with spirits of the dead in order to gain wisdom. (learn more here)

NUMEROLOGY

a form of divination using numbers (also known as Arithmancy) and dates.

PALMISTRY

a form of divination also referred to as palm reading where the practitioner reads and interprets the lines and structure of the hand to see a users future.

PENDULUM

a form of divination consisting of observing the subtle movements of the pendulum to learn the answers to questions, to learn about objects or situations.

SCRYING

a form of divination crying where one seeks a vision while gazing into a transparent, translucent, or reflective object. this most commonly done by crystal ball gazing, but users can participate in fire scrying, water scrying, mirror scrying, etc.

TASSEOGRAPHY

a form of divination where the practitioner reads patterns and symbols from tea leaves or coffee grounds sediments.

That's all for divination practices! As I said above, this is just a small glimpse into the world of divination, but nonetheless, I hope that you found this helpful in your spiritual journey and I hope that you are able to apply this information to your practice.

if you have any questions regarding anything discussed here or anything you feel that I have missed, please send an ask to my ask box! I appreciate all comments and questions!

For more information on my practice, witchcraft, herbalism, spirit work, and divination please check out the guide on my page (linked here)! Everything I have ever posted can be found there!

I wish you all a blessed day filled with peace, endless wealth, and eternal health! Until the next time we meet!

[bicheetopuff]

If the leaks are true then the dudebros right but also Horikoshi was writing a slow burn punishment story because Bakugo's punishment was him being rejected by Izuku at the end.

If that’s real it feels like such an odd choice. Like yeah Izuku can make his own choices but it just still feels so OOC. I know a lot of people are saying “oh that’s because you think Izuku should only live for Katsuki’s sake blah blah blah” but that’s not the case at all.

Izuku always looked up to him and only ever wanted to be on equal footing with him. He was always so adamant about making sure Katsuki was safe and still around for him to look up to. Why would that change so suddenly? Especially after something so traumatic?

Hori literally made sure that we knew how possessive he was of Katsuki numerous times and now he’s just so painfully casual about him… this isn’t about ships or romance, this is just about their dynamic. Even people who didn’t ship them thought they would work together in adulthood, and I feel like even if Izuku thought he couldn’t do it, he’d be more emotional/hesitant about his rejection.

It just kinda reminds me of the hospital scene where Katsuki burst into tears and Izuku tells him to stop because it isn’t like him. I’ve always seen it as an odd reaction because what happened to the Deku from DvK2 who wanted to hear every word of Katsuki’s emotions? Who was glad to finally have a real conversation with him where they weren’t fighting? The one who absorbed every word of Katsuki’s apology in disbelief and fell into his arms because he trusted him?

All he got was a “phew! You’re okay!” Which feels so weird in comparison to his reaction to his death during the actual war. He was freaking the fuck out and crying and couldn’t breathe… the reaction just doesn’t feel consistent.

I’m not Izuku bashing, I love him to bits, but some of the choices Hori made in regards to him at the end just feels so odd and these leaks make it feel so much weirder

[edenfenixblogs]

So, you're a great ally @tlirsgender, and this is NOT a call-out. Your posts are consistently level headed and based in a genuine and even-handed assessment of events. Your statement is also very correct. So I'm using your tags specifically, because this is a sentiment I've seen a lot and have been struggling to articulate my response to it until right now. And of all the people posting variations on this statement, you are one of maybe 5 people who seem actually capable of understanding my response for what it is--which is NOT me saying that Israel is blameless.

But like...this general statement has been aggravating me recently. Again, it is TRUE. There are a ton of valid criticisms of Israel's actions and leaders. I engage in those criticisms often.

But also...why are people SO eager to criticize Israel specifically.

Of course the answer is that Israel is doing horrible, violent things. And yes. That is true. But that's not what I'm saying.

Why, after more than a year of bombs being dropped at Israel and Israelis--Why after a still unresolved hostage crisis--Why after an unprecedented mass slaughter of unarmed Israeli civilians are people so eager to criticize Israel rather than engaging in any thoughtful critique of Hamas and Hezbollah and the terrorists who massacred and kidnapped and sexually assaulted Israelis (as well as people of any nationality or religion who happened to be near Israelis) on 10/7???

When Jews bring up that terrorism occurred we are at BEST told that it doesn't matter because Israel's reaction to that terrorism is "worse" (which is shitty to say to people who are suffering. All suffering is bad and you aren't a bad person for needing support even if other people also need support). At worst we are told that Jewish and Israeli unarmed civilians deserved it because of where they were born, where they live, or what their cultural background is.

And to be clear, none of what I'm saying negates Palestinian suffering. We must acknowledge and confront that suffering as well.

But we need to stop treating Jews and Israelis who bring up the fact that Israel is responding to an attack that remains unresolved as if they are justifying every terrible thing that Israel is doing or has ever done.

We need to acknowledge that there is an ongoing bombardment of Israelis by hostile nations and organizations as well.

We need to acknowledge that hostages from 10/7 have been murdered in captivity, tortured, and remain in terrorist custody.

We need to stop looking at Israel and shouting at them for responding incorrectly when we can instead:

Help them to respond BETTER

Acknowledge that a response of some kind is needed

Acknowledge that the global intelligence and diplomatic community has utterly failed mourning, traumatized, and kidnapped Israelis during a horrific time

Acknowledge that Palestinian civilians are suffering

Acknowledge the ways in which Palestinian officials and representatives have acted to prolong this conflict

Acknowledge the roles that terrorist organizations and tyrannical/authoritarian governments have aided terrorists in Palestine and Lebanon in their assault of Israelis.

Like, YES, there ARE valid things to criticize Israel about. But if your criticism is simply making statements of fact about how Israel has done wrong, then you're not helping Palestine OR Israelis. You're not helping Israel to even be better! You're just saying "You're doing Being A Country wrong. Stop it."

If your criticisms aren't accompanied by a fair assessment of events, the needs of civilians on all sides of the conflict, and (ideally) a suggestion on how things can be improved in a way that benefits civilians without undue burden or blame on Israeli OR Palestinian civilians, then you're still part of the problem.

In general, we all need to stop looking for things to criticize and need to start focusing on more concrete ways we can actually help. And not just crisis mitigation. But in the long term.

There ARE valid criticisms to make about Israel and its government and its government officials and its policies, etc. But we need to know that the same is true of Palestine and its officials and its policies. Because the same is true of ALL nations and all people and all populations. Nobody is without responsibility--in any country or any population. We are all responsible for our own actions and the role we play in supporting our governments and their policies. This does not mean individual civilians are culpable for the actions of their government. But it also doesn't mean that their actions don't impact the overall political atmosphere of that nation, its government, and the interaction that nation and government have with other nations and governments. We're all connected. We all matter. And if your criticism is only criticism and nothing else, then it isn't helping anyone.

I genuinely hope this makes sense and you don't experience this as a personal call out. Again, that's not what I'm trying to say here. Lemme know if you have questions or if I didn't explain myself well.

do you guys remember last year when a huge amount of people were like "(((israel))) made them release spotify wrapped early to cover up what they're doing in gaza" like it was a massive conspiracy theory on tumblr dot com. i just tried to tell my family about this and my cousin and i were in tears from laughing because it is so fucking ludicrous. antisemitism makes you so so stupid

[ghostofskywalker]

It (Shouldn't) Take A Village

gift wrap banners!

another fic for the @galactic-gift-gathering! this time for @dreamsight73 - the prompt was "fun around the christmas tree" with the bad batch. i wanted to write something absolutely silly and fluffy, and i hope that the vision of the bad batch trying to put up decorations works with what you were looking for!

ao3 link || words: 745

summary: For their first Life Day on Pabu, the Bad Batch end up with way more decorations than they know what to do with. Trying to put everything up is certainly an eventful experience.

Boxes were strewn out across the floor of the living room as Life Day decorations were laid out anywhere they could fit, not a single surface spared. To someone that didn’t know any better, they might have guessed that some kind of bomb had gone off to put the home in a level of disarray this intense. 

Everything was half complete, and the sound of different conversations all blended together from room to room. 

Echo and Crosshair, who usually operated as something of a well-oiled machine when it came to tactical missions, were finding that putting together a Life Day Tree was much more involved than they originally thought. In hindsight though, it probably wasn’t a good idea to assign a group that only had two hands total to do this particular task.  

“The tree’s crooked.” 

Echo scoffed. “No it’s not!” 

“Maybe if you weren’t standing so close to it you’d notice.” 

“We should have just cut down a real one.” 

“And which one of us was going to lug it around?” Crosshair asked, eyebrows raised at his brother as he held up his right arm. 

Echo sighed, looking down at his scomp and then at the doorway of the home, which wasn’t exactly the widest in the galaxy. “Good point.” 

Wrecker and Tech were taking care of a slightly lesser-known tradition among the galaxy but one that had been joyfully adopted by Pabu’s residents, the Life Day Village. Figurines, buildings, trees, and other various accessories were strewn out all over the floor as the two of them hunched over a table in the back corner of the room, bickering almost constantly about what should go where and how best to arrange the town. 

“Are Shep and Lyana aware that the buildings and life forms they purchased do not boast a consistent theme?” 

“What does it matter if you put a gundark next to a bantha? It’s all for fun.” 

“The architecture is completely historically inaccurate, and we cannot put the cantina next to the school.” 

From across the room, Crosshair snorted. “You are aware that these children aren’t real, right? What drunkards are you protecting them from?” 

From his perch at the corner of the couch, Tech rolled his eyes. “Shut up. The layout of things still need to make sense, or it doesn’t work in the first place.” 

Hunter and Omega were in the next room, unpacking stockings, garlands, and other decorations from totes that were gifted to them from the other inhabitants of the island. Eyes wide, Omega treated every item with the utmost care, and she had a special affinity for the plethora of tooka figurines, all wearing different festive hats. 

But of course, she still found a way to join in the fun the rest of her brothers were having (making fun of each other). 

“Look Crosshair! This decoration looks like you!” 

Two faces appeared in the doorway of the room, equally opposite expressions adorning them. And once Crosshair got a good look at what Omega was holding up to show him, the sound of his annoyance was audible even over Echo’s laughter. 

“Absolutely not. That thing is green.” 

Hunter, who at this point had managed to contain his smiles and present a completely neutral expression, entered the conversation seconds later. “What? You don’t see the resemblance?” 

Wrecker’s voice carried across the home. “What does it look like?” 

Echo spoke next, finally reeling in his laughter. “A grumpy expression, a tiny heart, and a set of glaring eyes.” 

“That sounds like Crosshair alright.” 

“You’re all getting coal on Life Day,” Crosshair huffed. “That’s the tradition, right?” 

Omega smiled as Hunter shooed Crosshair and Echo from the room. She knew that her brother’s ire was nothing but playful, and a feeling of warmth bloomed in her chest as everyone returned to their tasks, the small house growing more and more festive with every single box unpacked. 

She had always understood the appeal of Life Day, but her fondness for the Wookie holiday was increasing tenfold every moment. Every single one of them had been through so much, and getting to this point had been far from easy, but right now, as they laughed and joked with each other in a home they could finally call their own, it was like nothing had ever gone wrong. 

Maybe that was the true magic of Life Day, she supposed, even if she wasn’t looking forward to cleaning everything up after the holiday was over.