#like its going to be obvious you stole them

[certifiedbi]

Zarco and other Furygan riders had their leathers stolen?!

[tstain-is-an-idiot]

(WIP) ummm lets just say that theoretically

I mucked around with some genders

because it would be interesting if these two were inspired by different things while creating their version of Cap

[thisthatpinkvenom]

FREAKS ON A FRIDAY

COLLEGE BF!WOOYOUNG / FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Wooyoung, is as cool as a cucumber. You, not so much. When you go into a jealous fit at a Friday night party, he's nothing short of amused at how cute you are. And he knows just how to simmer down your hot temper.

⤏ Genre(s): *drabble, smut (what's new?)

⤏ Content: college!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): unprotected piv, mean switch!Wooyoung, switch!fem reader, face slapping, hair pulling, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, dirty talk, possessiveness, reader has nipple piercings, please keep in mind that both are quite masochistic

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

“My eyes are up here, Dickhead!”

“But my eyes are down here, Sugartits; not my fault they’re right in front of me.”

Your boyfriend, Wooyoung, sat himself on the toilet lid, his hands that found home on your hips pulling you closer as you stumbled between his parted thighs. He wasn’t fazed at all by your eyes that were blown out in anger, veiling that shit-eating grin you knew all too well behind a composed smirk. If it weren’t obvious already, it took a lot more than your cute little tantrums to have an effect on him. He knew how to handle that short fuse of yours like clockwork.

“You are not allowed to call me that right now.”

“C’mon, you love it when I call you that,” he slurred, nuzzling his face between your breasts in the process. To his dismay, you wriggled out of his hold, leaning against the wall before tucking your chest under your arms.

“Why don’t you ask Kristen or Kirsten—whatever the hell her name is—to let you motorboat her tits?” you spat.

Wooyoung couldn’t resist the laugh that fought hard to escape his lips, shaking his head and adjusting the shades that kept most of his bangs away from his face. He didn’t let your seething demeanor stop him from joining you once again, pressing his frame gently against you with a hand resting on the wall beside your head. The other cradled your chin between his fingers, and that grin of his showed up in its full form.

“There’s no girl’s tits I wanna motorboat other than yours, Baby.”

You rolled your eyes, hoping that was enough to distract yourself from your thumping heart.

“Well, aren’t you such a romantic?” you said, voice laced with sarcasm.

A few knocks at the door stole your attention for a fleeting moment, and you both opt to ignore them. Wooyoung sighed once the knocks became louder, briefly retracting from you to yell out, “It’s occupied!”

“Not anymore. I’m leaving,” you muttered. But before you could move, he’s got you cornered again, and it’s your turn to sigh. Despite the smile still lingering on his lips, he sounded more serious this time.

“How many times do I have to tell you that Kirsten’s just a friend? You jealous girl,” he said, no malice in his tone. Rather, he was quite gentle with how he spoke to you.

“She was playing with your hair!”

“And she has a girlfriend, Baby—who was right beside her.”

Your lips parted and closed a few times as you tried to gather your words, but you didn’t know what to say. He took it as a sign to continue reassuring you, placing his hand on your warm cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear to you, I should’ve. I don’t see her that way at all; she definitely does not see me that way. I’ll consider your feelings more from now on, okay?”

Your lips formed a pout, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes as embarrassment washed over you.

“I’m sorry for overreacting. It’s just that…your hair—”

“You like being the only one pulling on it, huh?”

He didn’t hide that he noticed how his question had caught you off guard.

“W-What?”

“Don’t play all ‘shy girl’ with me now. You know, I can still feel the effects of how hard you pulled on my hair last night,” he purred. “You would love it if I got on my knees and let you run your fingers in my hair right now, hm?”

You stammered his name under your breath when he licked a strip along your neck, kissing and sucking your skin before moving lower to your breasts. It never bothered him too much when you wore a form-fitting shirt and forewent a bra, the shape of your piercings bulging under the tight, stretchy fabric. That was as long as he was the only one who had the privilege of playing with them, of course. And when your shirt was bunched above your breasts, he stole more than just a quick look. His eyes were hungry, staring long enough to brand the image of your tits in his mind.

Two cute little silver hearts for both of your nipples, hugging the buds together just perfectly. You just had them pierced a month or so ago, and you’d be lying if you denied that half the reason why you did was for Wooyoung. You wanted to get something that was only to share with him; in a sense, it made your heart flutter at how intimate it really was. Maybe a few others got a glimpse of your piercings sometimes, but Wooyoung always received the full experience.

“I’ll never get tired of these,” he murmured, pressing his thumbs on your nipples to light a reaction from you. He was good at catching every little detail about you, savoring each short breath you took, how your lips parted, and the way your tummy contracted from any shock of pleasure.

“You really went through that pain for me,” he stated more so than asked.

“It’s worth it,” you whispered. “And it feels...hah”—your face contorted when he captured your nipple between his lips—“it feels s-so good now. So sensitive…”

He hummed. “I bet it does.”

The air was so thick and hot, polluted with the pungent mix of alcohol and weed; it made you a little lightheaded. The shitty trap song muffled by the door went deaf on your ears, and all you could focus on was the wet muscle that toyed with your nipple. Your hand found its way to the other, begging to be touched and tweaked between your fingers. The heat between your legs was growing to be unbearable, thighs spread apart as if they were ready to welcome his touch between them.

He released your flesh with a pop, giving you one dizzying kiss that had him dropping to his knees nearly going unnoticed by you. He squeezed your thighs in his hands, eventually snaking them higher to push the hem of your denim skirt up. You threw on whatever pair of underwear you could find in your drawer and unfortunately for you, they were light enough to show an embarrassingly dark spot left by your arousal. And fortunately for him, he got to ogle at it.

His finger wagged against your clothed nub, an almost mocking chuckle leaving him. “What an easy girl you are.”

“Sh-Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You didn’t know what came over you to do what you did next. Your panties slipped down to your ankles and before he knew it, his shades slipped from his hair as you grabbed a fistful of his locks at the base, shoving his head between your legs. Wooyoung made a small sound of surprise, though he easily complied, parting his lips almost immediately to suck on your clit.

“Why are you s-such a tease, Wooyo?” you whined, frustration building in your tone as you hooked one leg over his shoulder and began to roll your hips. “You piss me o-off sometimes!”

He groaned when the grasp on his hair tightened, your nails grazing his scalp in an almost indescribable, painful pleasure that had blood rushing up his cock. His hands searched for purchase on your thighs, his own nails digging into your flesh deep enough that they’d leave little crescents behind.

“S-Sometimes I feel like you really need me to ride your face to sh-shut you up,” you moaned.

He’d nearly creamed in his pants right then and there. You were so fucking cute and hot all in one when you were mad like this.

“Wooyo, g-gonna cum! Gonna cum, gonna cum—oh, my fucking God…”

With one last whimper, you reached climax, bliss intoxicating your senses as you rode your orgasm out on his face until you reached satisfaction. You released your grip on his hair, pushing him away gently while you caught your breath, waiting out the twitching in your thighs to settle down in silence. Your boyfriend was left speechless for a minute, dazed as if there was nothing in that pretty little head of his other than the voice that told him to lick your cum off his lips.

The next thing you knew, your ass was perched on the countertop, your hand accidentally flipping the faucet on in an attempt to balance yourself. Wooyoung stood between your thighs and unbuckled his belt, slipping out his cock from underneath his boxers. As much as you loved seeing him naked, you were always fascinated by the sight of him fully clothed, nothing but his erection dripping with pre-cum exposed to you. Maybe it was the urgency—the need to fuck you right now so overpowering that he didn’t have the patience to strip his clothes off.

“You’re such an impatient little brat,” he huffed, a hushed groan interrupting his thoughts when he slid his cock in your warmth. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you savored the sensation of being stretched open for the first time that night. He grabbed handfuls of your ass before landing two simultaneous smacks that aroused a yelp from you, and whispered, “You’re lucky that I liked that.”

He didn’t warn you about the strong thrust that had your jaw dropping, one that was followed by a series of jackhammered movements that left you a broken, moaning mess. You probably didn’t sound the prettiest right now, switching between whimpers and pants like you were some bitch in heat. But the beauty of Wooyoung was that you didn’t have to be insecure about how you sounded, because he liked everything that was you. Even if he fucked you like he hated your guts.

“What was that you said about riding m-my face? To shut me up, h-huh? How about I fuckin’ slap you to teach you a lesson?” he grunted.

You swore that you felt a surge of your arousal dripping on the countertop with every pounding from his cock. Nothing turned you on more than a nice slap on your face from Wooyoung, you nearly melted into a pile of mush in his grasp.

“F-Fuck—yes!” you cried.

His thrusts never wavered as his hand lingered near your face, ready to land a firm hit on your cheek.

“Mm, here it comes, Baby.”

One, two, three slaps came at you that rendered you dizzy, the stinging pain on your cheek dissipating into a tingling pleasure. Wooyoung’s eyes studied in lust at how your own had fluttered shut, the whites peaking underneath your lashes as he soothed the affected area with his thumb. He repeated the same pattern one more time, almost disgustingly enamored at how much of a painslut his sweet girl was.

“Need to learn how to control your temper,” he muttered.

There was something about your pout and your knitted brows, matched with your flushed skin and your disheveled hair that had him going. How could he resist a face like that?

“I just—ah—love you s-so much, Wooyo!”

You were too cute for your own good.

His hand led yours onto his face, warm to the touch and glistening with sweat. With a few nods, he said softly, “S-Slap me…I haven’t been good e-either, Baby.”

“Wooyo,” you crooned.

“Do it n-now,” he insisted. “I’m all yours.”

And with that, your fingers reached for the back of his head, grasping his hair near his scalp before pulling it back. Wooyoung let out a wanton moan when your hand met his cheek. His hips began to slam against you at unbridled speeds as he began to lose himself in pure, sexual bliss.

“Fuck…hit me h-harder! Like you fucking mean it,” he whined. His cock continued to ram in and out of you, growing sloppier with each fuck as you watched his eyes glaze with tears, and his cheeks flushed with pink. You did as you’re told and slapped him with a firm smack, and that’s what it took for him to smash your lips together with his own. You threw your arms around his neck while he groped your breast, fondling your nipple with his thumb as you both swallowed the other’s growingly high-pitched moans.

“You’re mine,” you mumbled against his lips.

Those two words were enough for him to release a guttural groan, filling your pussy with spurts of cum that left him trembling. But he didn’t stop there, muffling his cries of overstimulation by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You could feel the warm tears dripping onto your back, the desperate need to make you cum becoming so apparent that it made your head spin. And with a few more frantic bucks from his hips, your walls suffocated his throbbing cock with a selfish squeeze, your gratified mewls melding with his broken pleas.

His weight toppled over you while you’re rendered boneless, legs falling limp against the bottom cupboards after releasing his waist. Wooyoung snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, absorbing the intoxicating pheromones that have begun to mask your fading perfume. You’re both left speechless for a few minutes, digesting the music that had been indistinct to your ears during your little fuck session. And when you’re ready, you each check on the other, sharing vulnerable kisses and sweet nothings that were reserved only between you and him.

You didn’t know exactly how long you’d spent time in the bathroom, but judging by the glaringly sour looks of a few who stood nearby on the outside, you’d say you took a considerable amount of sweet time. And as you expected from your ever-so-composed boyfriend, he sent the next person a smirk, rubbing his own red, blotchy cheek. Fixing his shades on top of his head, he entwined his fingers with yours soon after.

“It’s all yours.”

[wileys-russo]

like a dumb rom com (3) II k.cooney-cross x catley!reader

this is many many months overdue but feels good to tick it off my wips and wrap this little series up finally! one two like a dumb rom com (3) II k.cooney-cross x catley!reader

ever since steph walked out after catching you and kyra you'd been on edge. plastering a fake smile on your face you made an effort to show appreciation for all your teammates and friends showing up, avoiding both your sister and your girlfriend like they had some sort of infectious disease.

but if anyone noticed the underlying tension they didn't comment on it, though you felt the looks thrown your way by caitlin every now and then who seemed to stay stuck by stephs side for the rest of the evening.

as well as from kyra who was doing her very best to respect you were in an awkward position, but her hands itched to grab yours in them and she found herself staring longingly at you across the room nearly the entire night.

"okay! training tomorrow girls, think its about time we wrapped this up." it was kim who made the call around ten thirty at night, half of the girls already having left and the rest of you lounged about talking.

you looked up from your conversation with lia and caught your sisters eye, dropping your gaze right away as they burned a hole in your head and everyone all started their goodbyes.

when it came to kyra it was obvious neither of you were sure what to do, awkwardly staring at one another before you went for a hug and kyra stuck her hand out for a fist bump.

you both blushed bright red and mumbled apologies before you grabbed her hand and dragged her outside.

"i'm really sorry about-" you cut off your girlfriends apology with a shake of your head and stole a quick kiss. "don't. its not how i wanted her to find out but she was bound to sooner or later." you sighed with a somewhat sad smile.

with a slight frown kyra poked at the corners of your mouth, turning your lips upward into a proper smile. "dickhead!" you pushed her lightly, pulling her a little more around the corner of the house and out of sight.

"i love you." your hands fell to her cheeks as you brought her in for a proper kiss, the words mumbled right back against your lips before you pulled apart, promising you'd check in later and she hurried off to get a lift with teyah.

"you call me if you need something yeah?" caitlin murmured as she hugged you goodbye next, a short nod all she needed before heading off with katie.

you were hoping to sneak away to your room as steph was busy saying goodbye to jen, but fate wasn't in your favour.

"hey kid." you stopped halfway down the hallway and turned, dean standing a few feet behind with a sympathetic smile. "you know the more you avoid it, the longer it drags out and the worse its going to be." he reminded as you sighed, unable to really argue that fact as you followed after him.

steph had her back to you in the kitchen washing something up with far too much vigor, furiously scrubbing a glass you were surprised hadn't smashed in her hands yet.

you shifted awkwardly on the balls of your feet, wishing the ground would swallow you up as dean cleared his throat, steph pausing to glance briefly over her shoulder as he subtly nodded in your direction.

"you are unbelievable." was all your sister spoke, barely loud enough for you hear as she continued washing up, dean stepping out to the living room to give the pair of you some privacy but still hovering close enough that he could intervene if needed, taking calvin with him.

"pardon?" you scoffed, unsure if you'd heard her correctly as she shook her head, dropping whatever was in her hands back into the sink full of water and whipping around to properly face you.

"i said, you are unbelievable." your sister spoke louder this time, drying her hands on a tea towel and glaring you down. "oh and do tell steph, why exactly is that?" you questioned, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring right back at her.

"this. all of this! you are way too immature to be in a relationship, or whatever you and kyra are." steph rolled her eyes as again you scoffed.

"excuse me? i'm the one being immature right now? and yeah we are in a relationship, kyra is my girlfriend." you confirmed with a snarl, your sisters jaw clenching.

"the hickeys on your neck the other day...that was kyra. kyra was here the night before and you picked her up for training the next day!" steph realised as suddenly then chips started to fall into place. "you lied to me, you told me you came back for that textbook but-" steph accused as you rolled your eyes.

"congratulations sherlock, you figured it out! i came back to cover up my hickey." you clapped with a sarcastic smile which only wound your sister up further. "watch the attitude. you still live under my roof!" steph cautioned making you scoff, of course she'd hold that over you.

"for how long? and why kyra? you're just being stupid!" steph laughed humorlessly as you frowned, hurt flashing briefly across your face but it was almost immediately replaced with anger.

"well lets see. none of your business, none of your business, and how am i being stupid?" you questioned, hands on hips and raising an eyebrow in the older girls direction.

"you're too young to be in a relationship, you need to focus on football and school. and i know kyra well enough that all she's going to be for you is a distraction to both of those!" steph rolled her eyes as you shook your head in disbelief.

"i am twenty one years old steph, you were sleeping around long before that, at least i'm just with one person!" you snarked again as your sisters face glowered and dean appeared again as she started toward you.

"okay girls. its been a big day, its late, i think we all just need the night to cool off and-" he tried to calmly intervene but you weren't finished yet.

"and you don't know kyra at all. either way you do not get to tell me who i get to date or when i get to date them steph! you're my sister, not my mum." you warned seriously, turning on heel and exiting the conversation yourself.

"don't you dare walk away from me! we are not done here." steph scoffed and hurried after you ignoring deans urging she drop it for now, your door slammed in her face and promptly locked causing her to gasp.

"you open this door right now or i swear to god!" steph ordered pounding on it with her fist and jiggling the doorknob with her other hand, mumbling under her breath. "no, fuck off stephanie." you rolled your eyes, quickly shoving some things into a bag hearing your sister gasp again.

"oh just you wait till i-" you didn't give her a chance to hear the end of her sentence, carefully swinging one leg over your open window and shimmying around, dropping to the floor and racing away.

meanwhile steph was rummaging around in the kitchen for the spare key to your door, muttering angrily and waving off deans every attempt to soothe her, even ignoring calvin who bumped his head into her leg with a whine.

"telling me to fuck off? me? she's so-ooh when i get my hands on her." steph mumbled storming back down the hall to your room as both dean and calvin followed cautiously behind, your door popping open and steph rushing inside.

a squeal sounded as she tripped over your shoes, tumbling down to the floor and groaning in pain, dean hurrying to carefully help her up as steph took in your empty room and open window and saw red.

"oh she's dead. grounded. shipped back to melbourne in a crate!" steph growled, attempting to flee and make a beeline for her car keys as dean held her back.

"steph. babe, she clearly doesn't want to do this with you right now. when has she ever run off from a conversation? or even an argument? she obviously needs space and so do you, to calm down." he urged calmly as steph melted into his touch with a deep seeded sigh.

it would have to wait until tomorrow then.

~

only by the time tomorrow had rolled around steph indeed was calm, cool as an ice block one might say, and as frosty as one too.

rather than seek you out for an adult conversation like she'd promised dean, steph decided it was much easier to ice you out, ignoring you all together which didn't take long for you to catch onto.

you'd driven to and spent the night at alessia's thinking if you went to kyras that would be too easy for steph to find you, having sent kyra a quick message and prompty shut your phone off so your sister couldn't call you either.

the older english girl welcomed you in and listened to you rant but then made you promise you'd try to hear steph out today, advising your sister was probably more upset at being kept in the dark about it than she was about you actually seeing kyra.

alessia was of course correct, and that was what had been picking at steph as she stewed over things in bed last night, tossing and turning and barely getting a wink of sleep as suddenly she was overthinking everything.

how long had you been sneaking around? how long was this happening under her nose in her house? how long had you been lying to her? how long was kyra lying to her? why did you feel the need not to tell her? did you not trust her? had she been that bad of a sister? no, this was on you and not on her.

forever with a calm head on her shoulders alessia's words had stuck with you regardless, and you'd shown up to training with an olive branch in the form of a coffee for your sister and a new attitude toward hearing her out.

but when she completely blanked your attempt to even greet her good morning, that resolve died as quickly as it had been born.

"steph." you'd started softly, clearing your throat as lia sent you a warm smile, stopping her conversation with your sister who refused to turn around. "steph?" you tried again, lia and beth both frowning at the girl in question who turned but bent to tie her laces, clearly ignoring you.

"but i'm immature? right." you mumbled, harshly dumping her coffee in the bin as alessia winced, watching you storm off and kyra hurry after you as steph pretended not to notice and ignored her friends attempts to work out what that was all about.

"i would have drank that, just because she got caught does not mean she needs to waste a perfectly good coffee!" vic groaned as alessia shoved her, having filled her in but sworn her to secrecy not wanting to upset you or steph any further.

but steph was hardly subtle in the way she was clearly speaking about you to beth during warm ups, the blondes eyes darting toward you and kyra who'd paired up every few seconds which you hadn't missed.

"jesus!" kyra grunted as you grew tired of the fleeting glances and kicked the ball extra hard without watching, sending it sailing right into your girlfriends stomach who bent over winded with a wheeze.

"shit, i'm so sorry ky!" you hurried to her side with wide eyes, grabbing a water bottle alessia offered and handing it to the brunette who nodded with a grimace of pain, mumbling it was fine in between mouthfuls of water as she caught her breath.

catching the slight smirk on your sisters face at what had happened you shot to your feet, intending to march on over there and slap it off but someone grabbed the collar of your shirt before you could so much as take a step.

"nope, no catley brawl in the middle of training." caitlin shook her head, grip on your top tightening as you struggled to pull away but gave up with a defeated huff.

"kyra, finish warm ups with katie. you, come with me." caitlin ordered, dragging you away as you heard katie already start to tease kyra for the way she stared after you like a lost puppy.

meanwhile the smirk was wiped off stephs face but not in the way you wanted, instead she felt a strange feeling settle in her stomach at the way you'd sought out caitlin and were clearly confiding in her.

exactly the way you'd obviously told her about you and kyra before your own sister.

it was that resentment bubbling beneath the surface that perhaps the older girl should have known well enough to set aside and focus on football instead.

and it was that resentment that caused her to take you down perhaps a little too hard in the cool down game awhile later, the ball already gone from your possession when your sister slid into you, taking your legs out and sending you thumping to the ground.

you wheezed in pain, the wind knocked completely out of you by the unexpected tackle, squeezing your eyes shut and taking short sharp breaths as pain shot through your sides.

you heard some of the girls crowd around to check in, waving them off and grabbing leahs hand who pulled you up into a seated position. "i'm fine i'm fine, just winded." you brushed off the physio who hovered nearby.

"ankle? knee? no pain?" kyra squatted beside you with a concerned frown as you shook your head, the whistles blown to end the mornings session. "promise?" your girlfriend pushed as you nodded and mumbled the word back.

you didn't know if your sister would apologise, but you didn't give her a chance to either way as stina helped you to your feet and you took off inside, leaving both kyra and steph behind you.

~

you frowned as you entered the empty gym, your girlfriend having texted you to meet in here before the afternoon session to help her with something.

"kyra? ky?" you called out, hunting about but finding no sign of the midfielder. "she's so weird." you huffed, turning around to leave and screaming as suddenly there she was stood right behind you.

"gotcha!" the brunette grinned victoriously as you clutched your chest. "not funny cooney-cross." you warned catching your breath, heart pounding a million miles an hour.

"you always tell me i'm too loud, but i think i just proved i can be very very sneaky." kyra wiggled her eyebrows as you rolled your eyes. "is that seriously why you made me cut my lunch break early?" you sighed, unimpressed if a jump scare was all you were going to get out of this.

"no. i need your help stretching out my back before gym, please?" kyra asked hopefully, hands clasped together and slight pout on her lips. "you do realize there is an entire floor of physios who could do that right?" you couldn't help but smile.

"yeah...but i'd rather have your hands on me. i've barely seen you all day!" kyra groaned softly. "well whose fault is that!" you poked her accusingly as she smiled guiltily.

"okay its hard to train with stephs eyes shooting lasers at me every second, and thats when i'm not near you!" kyra admitted as you rolled your eyes but took her hands in yours. "where are we going?" your girlfriend asked as you begin to tug her away.

"somewhere stephs laser eyes can't hurt you." you mocked pouting at her as she huffed and bumped her shoulder into yours. "oh how romantic, you've put us both back in the closet." kyra teased as you pulled her into one of the equipment closets.

"are you going to make jokes or are you going to kiss me?" you asked boldly, raising an eyebrow as kyra made a point to snap her mouth shut and tug you closer, pressing her lips to yours without a seconds hesitation.

"-i said i don't want to talk about it caitlin." steph shut down her national teammate with a sigh, the forward trying to press her to talk about everything sensing bottling it up was only making things worse for the both of you.

"steph. you're hurt and you're upset that she didn't tell you, i understand that really. but so is she and avoiding her isn't going to make that go away, it'll get worse!" caitlin warned as steph hummed, rifling through the small stack of papers for her afternoon program.

"just think it over." caitlin gave in, squeezing her teammates shoulder and grabbing her program steph held out for her without another word, the rest of the team all slowly filing in.

now if you and kyra were maybe a little smarter, you might have kept track of time, or chose a less obvious hiding place for your little 'catch up', more specifically not hid out in the closet where the mats and rollers were kept, the mats and rollers that all the girls needed for their warm ups.

which is why one moment you were whispering something, lips pressed against kyras and soft giggles filling the air, and the next you were flat on your back with kyra laid out beside you, four concerned faces staring down at you.

"i didn't think it needed to be said but new rule, no making out in the equipment closet!" kim warned sternly, both you and kyra's faces blushing bright red as you hurried to your feet and she did the same, both of you drowned in the teasings of your teammates shortly after.

you caught your sisters eye as you grabbed your program, her jaw set and eyes piercing into yours you felt a wave of shame roll over you at her judgement, bowing your head and hurrying as far away from her as you could get.

"harsh." beth stated bluntly, knocking her shoulder into her best friends who blinked and glanced over to her, rolling out her hamstring. "thats unprofessional, she should know better." steph mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

"she's twenty one steph, and she's in loove." beth teased, quickly shut down by the sharp glare sent her way by your sister. "don't. she's an idiot, they both are." steph muttered, moving to roll out her back, watching as you arose from your own matt and followed after lotte to start your program.

"steph, she's a kid. kids make mistakes, should she have told you about the two of them? maybe. and when i say this i mean it with love-" beth started, steph averting her eyes toward the blonde and raising an eyebrow.

"-but doesn't your reaction also maybe explain why she held off?" beth smiled sympathetically as steph only sighed, ignoring the question as beth chose to let her sit with it, quickly changing topics.

and sit with it she did, not surprised when she returned home from training to an empty house despite the fact you'd left before her. though given calvin was nowhere to be found and your training bag was sat at your door, you'd clearly been and gone.

"boo!" steph let out a yell and spun around, hitting her fiance a few times who laughed and shielded himself. "alright alright! cool it karate catley." dean grinned as steph huffed, setting down her bag and shooting him one last glare.

"i see our mood hasn't improved. so you didn't talk to her then?" he asked, taking a seat at the counter as steph sighed, grabbing out a few things to make herself some food. "ugh she always does this!" your sister groaned, moving to take out the empty milk from the fridge.

"just further proves her immaturity." steph mumbled, tossing it away into the recycling and fixing her fiance with a glare as he chuckled. "something funny?" she challenged, the man still grinning.

"you do know its me who does that right?" dean advised as steph frowned.

"what? but she always says-" "once, she covered for me once. and you just assumed from then on that its been her!" "but why would she-" "do you remember when we had that argument? after i'd gone out for...a big night." dean winced at the memory as steph hummed in acknowledgement.

"well i drunkenly ate five bowls of cereal and left the milk empty in the fridge. we argued that next morning, you were angry with me and you grabbed out the milk for your coffee and it was empty and-"

"-and she took the blame so we wouldn't argue even more." steph realised with a sigh, drumming her fingers against the counter top. "bingo." dean clicked, leaning over and apologetically kissing her, promising he would no longer leave the milk there.

"then that same morning she went out and got me a coffee, took calvin for a walk and brought home flowers...which she said were from you." steph narrowed her eyes as her fiance winced and smiled sheepishly.

"what else has she taken the blame for or done for me that you took the credit for?" your sister gasped as dean grinned. "we're getting off track here. does this not maybe prove she's a bit more mature than you give her credit for?" dean pointed out, conveniently switching topics.

"covering for you being a grub hardly proves she's mature enough to balance school, football and a relationship." steph sighed, chopping up some fruit to make a smoothie. "but babe, technically she's already been doing that." dean pushed gently as steph paused, frown creeping into her features.

"has she failed a test?" "no." "handed in an assignment late?" "no." "seemed less sharp at football?" "no." "has she been playing poorly?" "no." "well..."

"yeah alright, i get your point." steph grumbled, pausing to massage her temples where she could feel a headache building. "talk to her steph. she's your sister she loves you, and even if she didn't tell you about her and kyra you know your approval means the world to her, she's always looked up to you." dean encouraged softly, standing and rounding the corner, steph melting into a warm hug.

"it really hurts i was one of the last to find out, i thought we were closer than that." steph mumbled into her fiances shoulder. "you are. maybe she didn't tell you because she was more worried about your reaction than other peoples, because it means more to her than anyone elses." dean offered as steph huffed.

"stop being right would you, its a very annoying switch up."

~

steph sighed and raised her hand, knocking on the door and taking a step back, arms crossed over her chest.

"oh! hi steph!" teyah made a point to say her name louder than needed making the australian chuckle. "you can relax with the warnings teyah, i just want to speak with kyra." steph spoke calmly, the blonde nodding and stepping aside.

"were you hiding behind the door?" steph raised an eyebrow as kyra instantly appeared, cheeks flushed bright red. "maybe." the younger girl mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

"i meant it, i just want to talk kyra." steph promised, the midfielder nodding in understanding as the older girl rolled her eyes. "are you going to let me in or are we going to stand here and chat with your neighbors too?" steph mocked as kyra stepped aside and allowed her in.

teyah caught kyras pleading gaze and made herself scarce, ignoring the girls silent begging not to leave her alone with steph who took a seat on the lounge, watching kyra squirm uncomfortably as the silence grew until she couldn't take it anymore.

"steph i'm so so so sorry we didn't tell you we were just worried about how you'd react and i wanted to leave the decision up to her since you're her family and i also didn't want to mess things up with you as well as her by jumping the gun and telling you first or pressuring her to tell you which hasn't worked because you're mad at me anyway but i really don't want to break up with her because i love her but i also love you but more like a sister even though thats weird because im dating your sister and-" kyra rambled out all in one breath, not pausing even for a second.

"kyra." she however fell silent at the single word, chest heaving slightly. "shut up and breathe." steph instructed as the midfielder exhaled shakily with a nod.

"how long have the two of you been together? don't lie to me." steph asked calmly, though her eyes warned the younger girl off of any dishonesty. "its complicated." kyra shifted with a frown.

"well, uncomplicate it." steph settled backward into the lounge more, crossing one leg over the other. "well we figured out we had feelings for one another awhile before we started dating, but with me in sweden and her in england we never had the time to give it a go-" kyra started with a sigh, steph nodding curtly for her to go on.

"then when the camp for the world cup rolled around and i let her know i'd be leaving sweden and trying to make a move over here, things changed, and we decided to try officially dating a few days before the tournament started." kyra explained, trying her best to untangle a rather twisted timeline.

"so you've been together for nearly six months." steph's voice was emotionless but kyra could see the thoughts swirling through her eyes and grimaced. "a little over five but...yeah." kyra mumbled, fiddling with her hands which sat in her lap.

so far this was easily the most serious conversation the two had ever had, and it was suffocating the younger girl.

"school. university is really important to her, and to me." steph stated, kyra opening and closing her mouth for a moment. "wait here." with that said the midfielder was up and darting off, steph watching her disappear with a confused frown.

though she returned not even a minute later, calendar and a small bag in hand which she promptly dumped in stephs lap, cautiously taking a seat closer to her than she was before.

"whats all this?" steph questioned not any less confused at the items in her lap. "well as we know im not really...an organised person." kyra sighed. "understatement of the century." steph mumbled, eyes raking over the pages in front of her.

"right. well i might not have a calendar for my every day life, my agent handles that." the midfielder blushed as steph rolled her eyes. "but i do have one for your sister. i know school is important to her and i don't want to get in the way of that steph, i promise." her tone softened as she grabbed the bag.

"i have all these coloured stickers and tabs-" she pulled open the drawstring and showed steph the inside who nodded slowly. "well they all mean different things, this is the key-" she pulled out a piece of card from inside the bag and handed it to steph.

"the blue tabs are days she has exams, the orange tabs are days she needs to study, the red tabs are days i can't interrupt her studying, normally a few days before her exams-" kyras finger moved across the key as steph nodded wordlessly.

"the yellow tabs are days where i need to force her to take a break so she doesn't burn out, and those aren't always days she has to spend with me either. the gold stars are days where her assignments are due, the footballs are game days, the kangaroos and international break and the little flowers are days off." kyra flicked through month after month, pointing out each sticker to steph who admittedly was still speechless.

"you can't even remember your boots on game day...but you keep track of her entire schedule?" the older girl eventually questioned, moving the calendar and bag onto the coffee table and turning to face a bright red kyra who shyly nodded.

"i-i love your sister steph. she runs rings around me and she has so much potential and drive and commitment, i don't want to ever hold her back. i know you might not think i'm good enough for her or smart enough or that im too immature or annoying but i really really care about her. she was my best friend before she was my girlfriend, i've always cared and i wouldn't dream of ever hurting her." kyra bounced her knee nervously as she spoke, feeling frightfully vulnerable and out of her comfort zone with this conversation.

"i know you care about her, and this just proves that." steph sighed deeply, nodding to the calendar. "its not that i don't think you're good enough for her kyra, and your intelligence has nothing to do with it. thats my baby sister, no one will ever be good enough for her." steph promised seriously as kyra nodded quickly.

"but it hurts that neither of you felt like you could come and speak with me about this. though you're not the one i need to have that conversation with-" steph exhaled, dragging her hands down her face and suddenly standing.

kyra followed suit, tracking after her back to the front door as steph pulled it open and hovered in the doorway. "i know you care about her kyra, i do. and you're both adults as hard as it is for me to admit that, and as much as you don't often act like one." kyra cracked a tiny smile at that.

"you don't need my permission or my approval, but you do have it-" steph assured softly as kyra breathed a long overdue sigh of relief, though that died in her throat as steph grabbed a fistful of her hoodie and tugged her closer.

"but if you ever and i mean ever hurt her kyra, you will pay for it. i will make your life a living hell and you will never speak to, look at or breathe near her again. got it?" steph warned seriously as kyra nodded hurriedly, the older girl smiling happily at the fear on her face.

"good, i'm glad we had this talk." steph let go, smoothing out her hoodie and squeezing kyra's shoulder with a nod. "see you at training tomorrow." steph turned to leave, kyra's head popping out of the door.

"i can call her to see where-" "no it's okay, i know exactly where she is."

"oh and kyra?" steph turned one final time, catching the younger girls eye. "if i catch the two of you making out in a closet again, i will snap your ankle."

~

sure enough, you were exactly where steph thought you would be.

not far from her house in st albans there was a huge park that you often took calvin to when you wanted to read in the sun, the pair of you would curl up on a blanket and it never ceased to amaze steph just how calm the normally hyperactive pooch became when you needed him to be, dean teasing you were some sort of dog whisperer.

just as your sister thought you were laid down on a blanket, but there wasn't a book in your hands and the very moment calvin laid eyes on his mum he bolted, almost taking your hand off which was wrapped around his lead.

but knowing all too well he only went haywire like this for one person you let go with a sigh, closing your eyes and making no move to acknowledge the older girl when you felt her sit down beside you.

you grunted as calvin laid himself down, head flopping down onto your stomach as his bottom half curled up into steph who'd also laid down on the blanket, an uncomfortably tense silence between the pair of you.

"sorry for the poor tackle today." your sister broke it first, only getting a quiet hum from you in reply as she sighed, thinking carefully about her next words before speaking them.

"why didn't you tell me?" but of course that all went out the window as her curiosity burned forth, clouded by the hurt that came with the reveal.

"you cannot seriously be asking me that steph?" you scoffed, glancing to her and looking away with a roll of your eyes. "look at your reaction, why do you think i didn't tell you." you mumbled, crossing your arms and glaring up at the sky above.

"okay...fair." your sister sighed, a frown thrown her way by you surprised at the small admission of guilt. "i only lashed out because i was hurt that you didn't come to me first. you've never kept secrets from me before, at least not huge ones like this." the older girl confessed, pausing to give you a chance to think it over.

"i was worried you'd freak out, which you did. you always treat me like a baby and i'm not anymore steph, i'm old enough to make my own decisions and if those decisions have consequences then they are mine to deal with." you warned, adjusting your position slightly.

"again, that's fair." your sister agreed once more to your surprise. "you're being suspiciously agreeable." you mumbled, steph reaching over to shove you lightly, a slight smile on her lips.

"it may have been already pointed out to me that the way i handled this only made you not telling me more valid." steph admitted, a slightly more comfortable silence falling between the two of you for a few moments as you sat with your own thoughts.

"i spoke to kyra." "i know, she called me panicking the moment she saw you pull up in the car park." you chuckled lightly, shielding your face with your hands as the clouds parted and the sun shone down.

"i talked her out of jumping out of her window before you got there though." "she is...something else."

"but, you're happy. right?" steph sat up a little more and looked down with a frown of concern. "yeah i am. i know kyra can be a pest but when its just the two of us its different, i love her and she loves me and she would never treat me poorly or ever get in the way of football or school or anything." you followed her lead and sat up, grabbing the tennis ball from beside you and tossing it for calvin as he sprinted off.

"oh i know, i saw her little calendar." steph smiled wider as you frowned. "what calendar?" you questioned, confused as your sister raised an eyebrow. "i'll let her explain that, ask her about it." the older girl chuckled.

"maybe at dinner, at our place tomorrow." steph extended the final olive branch as you paused for a minute to think it over. "you won't be really weird about it? make her uncomfortable?" you questioned a little hesitantly.

"i will be your older sister who will never think anyones good enough for you, that your girlfriend should be at least a little scared of." steph smiled honestly as you rolled your eyes.

"she's already terrified of you." "a wise choice. this might work out in my favor, she can annoy you instead of me." your sister grinned, poking you and whistling for calvin to come back as he was making some new friends.

"oh no we'll just both team up to annoy you now stephanie." you returned her grin as she groaned and grabbed calvins lead, clipping it onto his collar as you both made your way to your feet ready to head back home.

"hey. if you're happy then i would never stand in the way of that, as your sister all i ever want is you to be with someone who cares about you and though kyra might not have been my first choice, it isn't up to me anyway. you're right you are an adult, and maybe i need to work a little more on treating you like one." steph admitted, surprised as you stepped forward and hugged her tightly.

"well this is nice." your sister exhaled, cradling your head just like she would when you were much younger. "i'm sorry i waited so long to tell you, i didn't mean to upset you." you admitted into her shoulder. "i know, i can tell when you mean to upset me." the girl teased making you smile as you pulled away, grabbing the blanket and tucking it into the tote on your shoulder, the pair of you walking side by side.

"does you treating me like an adult mean you'll finally stop calling me peanut?" "oh absolutely not, you'll always be my little peanut no matter how old you get." "just when i thought we were having a nice moment." "hey embarrassing you is my right as your older sister, you never get to take that away from me."

[hirayalore]

— PART 01, PART 02.

the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, kinda idiots to lovers; ft. gryffindor!reader

warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reposted from my other account !

You’ve already accepted it long ago that you were always going to be invisible.

It had its perks really. It gave you enough liberty to not be the center of attention during classes and be on your own whenever you had free time to catch up with some assignments.

Plus, it’s not like you were completely invisible. You still had friends and was well-liked in your Hogwarts house. They saw you as the shy, timid girl that would smile all the time if approached, voice always gentle and soft that no one ever felt like they were a bother each time they talked to you, regardless of how busy you were.

Speaking of being busy, you were currently inside the library with two of your close friends, Martha and Iris. Unlike you, the both of them were what others defined as the ‘it girls’ of your year, as a lot admired them and wanted to be in their circle. They were approached not only because it was the last resort or they looked friendly to have decent answers, but because being given attention by either of the girls was treated as such a big privilege.

“Iris,” Martha whispered from her seat in front of you, “Sirius Black has been staring at you for ages.”

At the sound of his name, Iris, who was seated on your right, also subtly glanced at her right to peer at the table next to you three. The occupants of the said table were indeed Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew; the four of them were in the same house as you, which was Gryffindor.

“Don’t make eye contact,” Martha scolded Iris when she was looking too long. “He might catch you and think you’re interested in him as well.”

“Well, I mean, Black does have a face that is a pleasure to look at,” Iris defended, and that was when you finally lifted your head up from your book, listening more to their conversation.

“Does that mean you like him, Iris?” Martha smirked and Iris shook her head.

“Of course not! I’m just saying he’s handsome.”

“Everybody with eyes says that.”

“That’s because it’s true, no denying it.”

“But Lupin is quite handsome too, you know,” Martha added. “Shame he’s a bit quiet. I tried talking to him in Potions once, but he didn’t seem like he was in a good mood.”

“He’s nice,” you finally said something, “I think he’s similar to me.”

“Introverted and shy?” Martha guessed, laughing with Iris. It wasn’t in a bad manner, just two friends who wanted to tease you for your known similar quietness.

You sighed, nodding and playing along. “The worst combination, really.”

The both of them laughed again, along with you this time, as hushed as you could.

“Is he still staring, Martha?” Iris asked after a few seconds, and Martha stole a quick look over the other table.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Curiously, you decided to do the same as Martha, wanting to see if Sirius Black was really staring at Iris. It has been a common occurrence for the past week for Sirius to seemingly always be caught in the same vicinity as Iris or looking at her, that was why it has also been a common topic recently for Martha to bring up Sirius’ apparent crush on Iris. You were starting to believe her, frankly, as you’ve always been a witness whenever Iris told Martha of her catching Sirius looking or the four boys always laughing like they were teasing each other whenever you three were around as well.

You couldn’t blame him for fancying her. Iris was gorgeous, intelligent, and someone you could deeply depend on. You didn’t want to compare yourself to others, but you thought that if you were Sirius, no doubt the obvious choice would be going for someone like Iris who’d go well with a handsome man like him. You could already imagine how the school would label them as the star couple of your batch, rooting for them as much as you were aware a lot liked James Potter and Lily Evans together.

Though the moment you twisted your head slightly to his direction to see, to check if he was making his crush on her apparent, his eyes immediately connected to yours, and then a smile made its way to his face. It looked a little mischievous, but still friendly nonetheless.

You faced away instantly, not aware of what to do once more. That has been happening frequently too, wherein you accidentally locked eyes with Sirius as he was looking over to Iris.

Maybe it was just another mistake (like what you were telling yourself on the previous four times this happened). Maybe his gaze just flickered to yours at the exact time you chose to look at him. You weren’t sure why you were making such a big deal out of it, but truth be told, you’ve been harboring a little (and secret) crush on Sirius ever since you saw him playing for Gryffindor at the Quidditch Match last academic year. You just didn’t tell anyone because for starters, you were still sort of in the state of denial; two, you thought it was embarrassing for someone like you to like someone like him; and three, you were pretty sure he liked Iris.

“____, are you alright?” Iris placed a hand on your forehead all of the sudden. “You’re really red in the face.”

“I — I am?” You put your own hand against your cheeks and felt them burning up.

“Are you okay?” asked Martha upon noticing your sudden flustered state thanks to Iris.

“Oh. Um, I’m alright.”

“You sure?” asked Iris.

You glanced back at Sirius and saw him still staring at you. However, he was no longer smiling but looked concerned.

“Yeah, yes.” You told the two. “But, uh, I think it’s getting rather hot in the library. I better go and cool down..” You began to gather your books and kept your parchments, ink, and quill inside your bag in a clumsy and fast manner. “I, um, I’ll go ahead to the common room and continue doing my essay there. I’ll see you girls later.”

Without waiting for a response, you literally dashed away and didn’t stop with your fast-paced walking until you were far enough from the library, stopping by a corridor that didn’t have any students hanging around the place. You took it as a good sign to lean against the wall, catching your breath and feeling ridiculous for running away like that when you only made eye contact with Sirius. It wasn’t like he did anything major for you to react that way. It was just a simple look and smile and now you were here, your heart beating so fast that it seemed like it wanted to jump out of your ribcage.

You sighed. You shouldn’t be treating this as some sort of problem. So, with another loud exhale, you pressed your things tighter against your body and turned back towards the corridor that would lead to the Gryffindor tower, only to collide with a fellow student which almost made you fall if it weren’t for their two strong hands holding your elbows to keep you on your feet.

“Sorry,” you muttered, not bothering to glance up at the person, wanting to just rush to the common room as soon as possible, but the person holding you didn’t let go of you until you lifted your chin up and met the same pair of eyes you caught gazing at you in the library.

“What’s the hurry, love?” Sirius asked, genuinely curious with a small smile on his face. His fingers were still wrapped around you. They had moved to your forearm yet a bit more loose, as if they were just there in case you were to fall again. “You feeling alright?”

“Me?” you repeated.

“Yeah, who else?”

“Oh. I’m… I’m fine.”

You and Sirius weren’t exactly friends for his question to come out as normal. Perhaps he was just engaging in small talk to get rid of the awkwardness of the situation.

“That’s good. I thought something bad happened. You just ran out of the library a few minutes ago, and it seemed like there was some kind of emergency,” he said.

“There was no emergency. I just wanted to move fast.”

“Move fast?”

“Yes.” You knew you sounded funny, but you paid no attention to it. “Uh, anyhow, sorry again for the run in. I should’ve looked where I was going.”

You were beginning to make a run for it again, but Sirius’ grip was back on one of your forearms before you could do so. “Wait,” he said, “I actually followed you here. I wanted to talk to you.”

You froze. He sounded serious yet not at the same time. Did that make sense? Nonetheless, you began to ask, “Talk to me? What about?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask something. Delaying it, honestly. I think you even noticed me thinking about it while we were in the library.”

“I don’t think I did.”

“Well, maybe Martha did. I think she certainly noticed something.”

“Martha?”

“She would always catch me in the act, I suppose. And earlier, dhe probably caught me staring again, didn’t she? Then she told you?”

It dawned on you right then and there what was happening. This scenario had happened a lot, of course, wherein a guy who was attracted to either Martha or Iris (in this case, the latter) was going to ask you if you could put a good word for them and boost them up to your close friend. You always immediately declined their request, to be frank, never willing to be some kind of messenger between two people who could have a conversation on their own.

“Oh,” was all you said, trying to mask your disappointment.

“I’m usually not like this, I assure you,” Sirius carried on speaking. “I mean, no shame at being nervous and all, but I think it’s safe to say that I usually carry myself better than this.”

He was right. Sirius never looked not confident. He had this elegant yet commanding aura about him, a quality that you were sure stemmed from him being a Black and a pureblood. Though Sirius wasn’t like those arrogant purebloods who saw themselves as royalty just because of their blood status, he was still superior in terms of his wits, skills, and looks.

“That said, I was just wondering, ____,” he started, “if you would —”

Your mind started to zone out from that point as well. You abruptly just kept on thinking about how you were politely going to decline him, planning to say that he should just ask Iris himself if he wants to have a date with her or perhaps ask Martha instead if he really couldn’t do the first move. The only words that managed to register in your brain were Hogsmeade and this weekend. 

“What do you think?” he finished, and you flickered your eyes to his, dazed.

“Uh,” you pressed your mouth together, “um, I think it depends on Iris.”

“Iris?”

“Yes.”

He appeared confused. “Why Iris?”

“What do you mean ‘why Iris’?”

“I’m just confused on why it depends on Iris. Does she stop you from making wrong decisions?” He joked.

You didn’t laugh. You were confused as he was. “Obviously it depends on Iris because she’s the person you’re going with. She has to be okay with going to Hogsmeade with you this weekend for it to happen.”

Sirius stared at you. What you replied to him definitely didn’t help him become less puzzled about your answer prior.

“Darling,” he was smiling now, and you were watching his expression change from confusion to realization in an instant, “it seems you have it messed up. I’m not hoping to go out with Iris this weekend to Hogsmeade. I’m hoping to go out with you.”

“Me?” you repeated, surprised.

“Yes, you silly girl.” He looked endeared; a hint of mischievousness crawling up his features too. “Why would I go to you if I wanted to ask her?”

“I… I thought you went to me as a way to persuade her.”

“I didn’t.”

“Most guys do. No offense taken, honestly. I think it’s because I look friendly.”

“But I didn’t, ____. You’re still not listening to me.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time grasping all of this.”

“Am I being too straightforward?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just that I never thought you’d ask me out.”

“Seems a little too sudden?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm, or perhaps, you’re just unbelievably oblivious.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m not oblivious.”

“You are. If you weren’t, I’m sure you would have seen this coming.”

“Why would I?”

“Last game, do you remember? I literally pointed at you after I made a score.” He played as a Gryffindor Chaser, and upon the mention of it, you did remember him doing that — just in an altered version of what he was sharing now.

“No, you didn’t. You did that to Iris,” you said.

“Why do you keep bringing Iris into this?”

“Because she’s the person you like!”

“Says who? You?”

“Yes?”

“Such a reliable source, I might say,” he sarcastically said, and you could feel yourself burning up again. “You’re more convinced with your own thoughts than you are to me, which I may add, is the person who fancies you.”

He fancies me, you repeated inside your head over and over again, not entirely believing him still, although your heart seemed to be betraying you by continuously thumping fast.

“Is this some kind of prank?” you asked then, voice more quiet and unsure. You knew that he and his friends like to play jokes on people, all for the sake of having a good laugh about it.

“What? No, no, of course not,” he clarified right away, his hands tightening on your forearms. “It’s not like that. I’m not that sick, ____, I would never fake this.”

“Oh, I’m… I don’t know — I told you, it just feels sudden. How could you like me?”

Sirius softened at your question. “Because, pretty girl,” he started with an endearment, walking closer to you which you unconsciously stepped away from, your back touching the corridor wall, “there’s something about you that pulls me in. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but I want to get to know you more to discover what it is. But I do like how you’re kind and how your mind works. It’s very fascinating.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes. And if you’ll accept my offer to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend, I’ll be glad to talk about it more,” he said. “That is, if you do go with me, but if not, then I guess you’ll just have to live with the mystery.” There was that familiar playfulness he had a reputation of.

Slowly, a smile was making its way on your lips. “This weekend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He grinned. “We can go to the Three Broomsticks, or even at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop if that’s what you like.”

“I have a hard time believing you’re okay with the latter.”

“I’ll be okay with going anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

You gave him a skeptical look, though regardless, nodded. “Okay. I’ll go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend.”

His grin became wider. “It’s a date, love.” He proceeded on getting your books and bag from you, a gesture you were too surprised to stop. “Where are you headed? I’ll accompany you before my Quidditch practices.”

“Just the common room.”

He let you lead the way, starting a new conversation as you walked with him. It was a new experience for sure, even though having someone you were beside with being ogled at wasn’t a new event to you, it still felt unreal to be walking with Sirius and have him carry your things.

When the both of you entered the common room, a lot of eyes turned to your direction, intrigued and shocked.

No doubt this was going to be the talk of the Gryffindor house for the next few weeks.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[crowborn666-writes]

Too lazy to do my usual format atm, needed to spit this out but it’s for those that suffer from debilitating migraines. (I’ve def had my fair share)

Mostly an Any OB Brother x reader, tho there’s def some Mammon and Lucifer favoritism going on.

You could’ve cried even harder at the sound of your door opening, the hallway light ripping through the comforting darkness of your room like a demon’s claws.

“(Y/n)?! Why ya cryin’?”

You loved Mammon, you really did, but the spike of pain through your skull had you sobbing and chanting at him to please shut up.

Mammon immediately shut his yap and took a moment to take in his surroundings. No lights, a very obvious sound preventing spell, the way your arms were contorted to cover your eyes and ears and cradled your skull.

Oh…

Mammon winced at his mistake, quickly and quietly closing the door behind him. He did his best to stay quiet as he walked over to you, gently running a warm hand across your upper back.

“Did ya take any meds for your head yet?”

You manage a weak nod, trembling from the pain. Mammon hummed, pulling back with a soft promise of return.

Momentary light was cast into your room once again, and you tried to settle down once more. A few minutes went by, Mammon returning with something in his arms after having clearly turned off the hallway light.

“Here,” gently, he turned you a bit, “stole some noise canceling headphones from Levi and an eye mask from Asmo.”

He placed the items on you with care, as if afraid you’d shatter right then and there. He lifted one side of the headphones as he spoke again. “You can drop the sound spell ya put up, I’ve let everyone know to stay quiet for ya.”

You nodded, flicking your wrist once and releasing the spell you’d been holding for the better part of three hours.

“I’ll check in on ya later, you focus on resting.” Mammon moved the headphones back in place, rubbing your back for another long moment before slipping from your room.

You knew this migraine would be persistent, only able to sit on the cusp of actual sleep as the brothers checked in on you over the course of the afternoon.

Mammon made sure you had plenty of water, Beel plenty of food, Levi brought you a collection of things to fidget and toy with once you could open your eyes again. Asmo and Satan brought you soothing things to smell (if you wanted them!) like candles or incense. Belphie tried to help you get some actual sleep, but with the migraine and your natural resistance to their magic that proved too difficult a task.

And finally, Lucifer had returned home from a rather stressful meeting with Lord Diavolo. The absolute silence of the house had him freezing in the foyer, and with suspicion he marched straight to your room. Upon the sight of you, sprawled in such an odd position with those headphones and eye mask still on your head, he let out a soft sigh of understanding. He wasn’t able to check his D.D.D. for any updates while at Diavolo’s, the device having been depleted of its battery.

He could hear his brothers moving around the house, most likely doing the chores you usually took up to help out. He stepped into your room, walking up to you and sitting next to your contorted form on the bed. Gently he moved the headphones off your ear, whispering down at you.

“Terrible day?”

“Tell me about it…” you mumbled, voice sounding dry before you carefully sat up, one hand reaching out blindly for the bottle of water on your nightstand.

“Here.” Lucifer stopped you, helping you sit up and getting the bottle for you. “I’ll see if I can find something you can take for that migraine.”

“I think Satan tried looking…” you offer offhandedly, setting the bottle aside before reaching up to take the headphones and eye mask off. They helped, but after having them on for so long they only added an extra ache you didn’t want. “I tried sleeping it off, Belphie even tried putting me to sleep, but that didn’t work either.”

Lucifer hummed, reaching out to rub circles into your temples. “It won’t last forever. Do you want me to stay here with you for a bit?”

“Yeah but… can we go to the living room? My room’s feeling stuffy.”

Lucifer scooped you up without another word, carrying you with ease to the living room. He knew you were actually seeking out the sound of the fireplace, and after getting you comfortable in your favorite spot, got to work lighting the fire.

You found yourself dozing off again, this time pressed into Lucifer’s warm side. One by one, you could tell the other brothers had wandered in, some sitting nearby, Belphie curling up against your back, a blanket being thrown overtop of you both at some point.

By the time everyone had wandered in and settled down, your migraine had vanished completely. But you were far too comfortable to move now.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Emperor's Children have a sex drive

Boom! This is canon. It took me to read a lot of literature and write down all the hints, but it was worth it.

Here we go ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

First of all, we need to start with Julius Kaeseron, who experienced sexual attraction to Bequa, and later to the demonette. Fun fact. In my native language, because of the translation, not only Julius appreciated the delights of the composer, but also Lucius, lol.

JULIUS WATCHED WITH barely contained excitement as the blue haired composer crossed the stage and descended into the orchestra pit to take her place on her conductor’s podium. Dressed in a scandalously translucent dress of gold and crimson, the gossamer thin material hung with precious stones that glittered like stars. The cut of her dress plunged from her shoulders to her pelvis, the swell of her breasts and the hairlessness of her flesh clearly visible beneath. ‘Magnificent!’ cried Fulgrim, clapping furiously with the audience at Bequa’s appearance, and Julius was amazed to see tears in his eyes. Julius nodded, and though he had no real memory of feminine splendour or any frame of reference against which to compare her, the composer’s curves and obvious womanhood stole away his breath. Julius had felt such stirrings of emotion when he gazed upon his primarch, heard a particularly inspiring piece of music or went into battle, but to feel his senses aroused by a mortal woman was a new experience for him.

Bequa Kynska thrashed like a lunatic atop her conductor’s podium, jabbing and slashing the air with her baton, her hair a wild comet of blue as it whipped around her head. Julius tore his eyes from the magnificent sight of her and looked out over the audience to witness its reaction to this sublime, raucous music.

And yes, in all of these examples, you can see that Julius doesn't just find the girl and the demonette beautiful. He notes that he was delighted by femininity. Moreover, he even calls it seductive. Seductive. Not the most commonly used word in the Space Marine vocabulary.

Julius had never seen anything so simultaneously beautiful and repellent, a naked female creature that evoked both a potent loathing, and a perverse sensuality that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Hair like needle horns swept back from her oval face, with its green, saucer-like eyes, fanged mouth and luscious lips. Her body was sculpted perfection, lithe and sensuous, but with only a single breast, and her skin was loathsomely tattooed and pierced. Each of her arms terminated in a long crab-like claw of glistening red chitin and moist flesh. Despite the lethal claws, the creature was disturbingly seductive, and Julius felt moved in a way he had not been since he had been elevated to the ranks of the Astartes. She moved with languid, cat-like grace, her every movement redolent with sexuality and the promise of dark pleasures and excesses unknown to the minds of mortal men. Julius ached to taste them.

And here you can see that the space marines did not yet know how to unleash their emotions. How to have pleasure other ways than battle:

The Astartes too were swept up in the surging power generated by the Maraviglia. Blood was spilled as the emotions of the Astartes were overloaded with sensational excess, and were vented in the only way men bred as warriors knew how. An orgy of killing spread from the stage, blood running in rivers as the power of the music thundered through La Venice.

But they learn quickly and start trying a lot of different things. This can be clearly seen in "Reflection Is Cracked". And yes, there is even a special place for more intimate things:

"Which was not to say that the observation deck went unused. Those who imbibed the toxically hallucinogenic cocktails brewed by Apothecary Fabius found enlightenment in its infinite vistas, and many indulged their freshly awakened carnal hungers with vicarious feasts of flesh and blades. Discarded bodies and torn heaps of broken glass lay strewn throughout the bay, and the occasional moan issued from a jumbled pile of clothing and leather restraints."

The same story mentions that they had fun with prisoners on one of the planets for several days. At first, one company abused the slaves, later handing them over to another.

During the Siege of Terra, the Emperor's Children also tortured mortals. Moreover, it is not specified exactly how. If this were ordinary literature, then “more direct and crude enjoyment” could be perceived as a, ahem, dubious agreement. But since Warhammer 40k is here, use your imagination.

Simple pleasures had given way to complex debaucheries. While their allies fought and died the Emperor’s Children slaughtered more than a million people and rendered them down to create endless varieties of drugs and stimulants. Countless thousands more died to give the Emperor’s Children more direct, if cruder, enjoyment.

How exactly did they have fun? Not specified. But I think that everything was there. And yes, this is an important point.

In Angel Exterminatus, Julius even emphasizes that they began to experience pleasure in EVERYTHING. They began to look for pleasure in all things.

The Lords of Profligacy had lifted the suffocating veils of the mundane from their eyes and shown them unlimited worlds of sensation and indulgence. Undreamed vistas of excess in all things: noise, music, bloodshed, hedonism, torture, violence, adoration and most of all, worship. Every second not spent indulging desires declared taboo in an earlier age was a waste of life, and Julius Kaesoron had long since declared that no act of indulgence would remain beyond his grasp.

And yes, sexual attraction is a matter for every person. While most Space Marines will be attracted to ladies, some will look at men. Yes, I can nitpick, but c'mon, just read this passage:

Lonomia Ruen detached himself from the advance, and Lucius cursed. Since the death of Bastarnae Abranxe, Ruen had transferred his cultish adoration to Lucius. For a while it had been an interesting diversion to have a slavish devotee, but Lucius was already tiring of the man’s desperate need. ‘Your body is a wonder,’ said Ruen.

In the first book about Fabius Bile, a lot is described about how the Emperor's Children have fun on the ship:

The observation deck had become a place of contemplation and experimentation for the masters of the Quarzhazat. A place to indulge in pleasures of body and mind. Slaves bearing immense narcotic generators staggered to and fro, filling the air with a pleasant fug. Emperor’s Children sat on marble benches looted from Imperial temples and eldar crone worlds, or lounged on cushions made from the flayed hides of prisoners, speaking softly to one another of past debaucheries and future ecstasies. They wagered on gladiatorial bouts, watching as unlucky crewmembers gutted each other with rusty blades or, in some cases,hands and teeth. Elsewhere, the crude gutter-poetry of lost Nostromo warred with ear-splitting songs culled from the manufactorums of Chemos and Cthonia. The more artistically inclined among them painted obscene murals on the wall and deck. Armour was peeled away from flesh, so that brands could be applied, or the bite of a tattooist’s needle.

And here we see this:

In the shadows, more intimate entertainments were being enjoyed, to judge by the screams of slave and Space Marines alike. The smell of blood and worse was strong on the air.

Moreover, their leader clearly loves his daemonettes too much. These are the interesting hints you can find in books.

The Radiant seemed to enjoy these occasional slaughters, and openly encouraged them, when he wasn’t leading a hunt or consorting with his Neverborn courtesans.

Oleander really distinguished himself, since apparently he started an affair with Fabius' daughter Melusine:

Oleander, it crackled. It has been so long, my love... come to me... come... He took a halting step forward, despite himself. Desire surged up in him, rising wild. His limbs trembled with need and his brain sparked with longing. A face swelled in his mind’s eye, inhuman and beautiful and terrible in that beauty, teased into the open by the electricfingers stroking his soul. He had danced to this rhythm before, however, and he recognised a lie when he heard one. He forced himself to stop, though his every instinct begged that he go forward. ‘No,’ he croaked. ‘No, I know her febrile stink, and you are not her,’ Oleander said. ‘She would not ask – she would demand.’

In the short story "A More Perfect Union" by Richard McCormick it's implied that some Emperor's Children are having sex (or something like sex). And not only with slaves but with each other.

Xantine to Euphoros:

'It has boon some time since you made your way to my bed chamber, my lord,' he said, draping a purple cloak around his naked body and drawing himself up to standing height with a predator's grace.

Euphoros to Xantine:

'I was worried, I hear pillow talk from from souls who tell me you are lost to your ...'* he looked at the empty containers. 'To your predilections.'

In the book Pariah, the simply amazing character Teke the Smiling appears. And yes, he not only notices the beauty of Beta and Judika, but also wants to “have fun” with the girl. He calls her "sweet" many times as if in mockery. And jokes that she should take her friend on board as "plaything".

‘My, but you’re beautiful,’ Teke said to me, regarding me intently. ‘As beautiful as the boy. Those eyes, that mouth. The hard absence of soul. It’s such a shame he’s been spoiled.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Bequin,’ he said. He paused. ‘Well, of course, I do. Very much. Right up to the unthinkable point where it becomes a pleasure for both of us. But I can’t. I’m not allowed to. You’re too valuable.’

‘You have provided us with it. Within just hours of knowing you, Bequin… sweet Mamzel Bequin… you have already performed an extraordinary service for us.’

‘Oh, he likes you, doesn’t he?’ said Teke, smiling at the Curst. ‘Do you want to bring him too, as your plaything?’

And I like how in the sequel the two girls talk about Teke.

‘I don’t have to imagine,’ she said. ‘I’ve met them. A brief encounter with the one named Teke. Thankfully, I was well warded. It was hard to tell what he wanted more – to kill me, or copulate with me.’ ‘Both, I should think. At the same time.’

Also worth mentioning is Telemachon, who was infatuated with Nefertari. Mostly due to the fact that she is a Drukhari. And he wanted to kill her for the Dark Prince. Is there any sexual connotation here? Well:

‘My angel. My lovely angel, you know nothing of what you speak. You’ve spent a lifetime running from the Youngest God. But he loves you, sweetling. He adores you and all of your kind. I can hear him sing each time you breathe. And one day, when you leave your flesh behind, you will be his. A concubine of spirit and shadow, claimed by your true love at last.’

Telemachon closed his eyes, breathing in her breath, drinking her every exhalation. Being near her was rapture. ‘Let me touch you,’ he said, shuddering. ‘Just let me touch you once.’

‘You live in defiance of his hunger, lovely angel... Let me taste you. Let me bleed you. Let me kill you. Please. Please. Please.’

Telemachon’s hunger for her was still a palpable thing, an aura that invisibly stained the air around him. He was imagining the salty richness of her blood on his tongue, and the thought made him shiver.

I want her, came the swordsman’s wish, as clear as if he’d spoken it aloud. He did not send the words to me, but his murderous desire was fierce enough that I couldn’t help but sense his thoughts.

 A feather. A single black feather. I tore it from the fine golden chain that bound it to the pistol grip and crushed it in my hand. ‘Is this from her wings?’ I demanded.  ‘But of course.’ ‘You diseased creature. Stalking her. Watching her.’ ‘And more.’ The onyx of his eyes flashed with reflected light. Telemachon was smiling. His facemask didn’t change, but I sensed whatever was left of his face behind the silver twisting in mirth.

And I really like that the Thousand Sons Space Marine stubbornly says that he doesn’t need Nefertari. That she is simply his property and she has no value to him in the Black Legion. Also he when Telemachon speaks of Nefertari:

I will end him. My mind inferred the tigrus-lynx’s violent eagerness as words, though as ever no words were spoken.

‘Do you value your life so little?’ I asked him, surprising myself with my own honesty. ‘This hunger for her will be the death of you.’

And the Chaosites have clearly expanded their vocubular. Just imagine what the Space Marines said smt like that during the Great Crusade:

‘Prey,’ the wych hissed again, echoed crudely by her sisters. ‘Oh no,’ Lucius grinned. ‘You are quite mistaken, my lovelies. I am not being hunted by you. It is you who are being hunted by me.’

Even Abaddon knows how to speak with ladys even if they are eldar which is really funny:

‘The Maiden of Commorragh,’ he greeted her.

‘They are gone.’ Nefertari broke in, still wearing her smile. ‘Their bodies hang in my Aerie if you wish to introduce yourself to them the way you have to others.’ Abaddon snorted in amused resignation. ‘What a wretched little darling you are, alien. And what of Falkus? Where is he, Khayon?’

I also found two interesting comments on reddit, but alas, I could not find exact references in the books. I'm still a human being and this is a Tumblr post, not a dissertation:

The Emperor's Children are quite possessive of the Daemons of Slaanesh. Fighting honour duels for a kiss of a daemonette or to catch the eye of a Keeper of Secrets. They showered even the least of Dark Prince's daemons with affections and gifts. It is because of this they are jealous of the Word Bearers like Saqqara who needed none of that to be beloved by daemons.

And another one:

The bile series straight up has the ec doing kinky shit only just off screen and one of the things Fabius gets accused of when he's setting up his new men is that he's just making a harem for himself.

I also like reddit about Fulgrim because it's true:

I’m pretty sure there is a pretty blatant scene in Slaves to Darkness that shows Fulgrim’s interest in EVERY excess and sex is part of the equation. It’s like a bunch of cultists and demons in the Webway essentially worshipping Slaanesh by experiencing excess including sex, gluttony, etc. Fulgrim is taking part, but it’s not exactly clear what he is taking part in. He’s a demon prince by this point obviously.

He was the only primarch who was married. He can lie himself that he didn't really loved his adoptive parents and wives but can't lie me:

Fulgrim sat back. ‘I was betrothed, once,’ he continued idly. ‘Several times, actually. Political marriages, of course. Made to seal binding agreements, or open negotiations with certain executive dynasties.’ Pyke didn’t reply. His tone had become sombre. A rare thing, for Fulgrim. The Phoenician seemed to always be smiling, laughing at some joke only he understood. But now, he seemed tired. He rubbed his face. ‘I outlived them all, one way or another.’ ‘Did you love them?’ Fulgrim smiled slowly. ‘Some. I think. At first. After a time, I stopped. Love was a weakness I could ill afford in those days. A billion lives rested on my shoulders, and any hesitation on my part would have doomed them all irrevocably.’ He laughed softly. ‘Or so I told myself then.’ ‘And now?’ ‘Now, I know it would have. There is no room for weakness in this galaxy. No room for imperfection.’

And do you know why this is a lie? Because after Fulgrim become a daemon prince, he immediately got N'kari as his consort:

Fulgrim reached the dais and flowed up its side. The bloated thing squirmed in greeting, uncoiling its bulk and twining it around Fulgrim as he embraced it. The thing purred up at the daemon primarch, baring its teeth. Fulgrim ran a hand over its hair. ‘There, N’kari, my delight… We will have bliss again once this is done with, but he is family, and that means I should listen to what he says, hmm? At least a little.' N’kari… It was not its true name – that was a thing that would have broken reality to speak – but in the realm of the warp it was like a signature drawn in atrocity. Layak had glimpsed it and heard it at the edge of bloody visions, but never seen it before. Now it sat before him. N’kari… Eater of Delight, the Son of Ruin, the Daughter of Delight, one of the Six Courtesans of the Dark Prince. Fulgrim settled next to the exalted daemon, their snake bodies intertwining with a sigh, then turned his gaze back on Lorgar.

Fulgrim squirmed, a hand running through N’kari’s hair, while another picked a wet, red fruit from a silver platter and held it out to the bloated daemon. Layak noticed that the exalted daemon’s face was a warped echo of Fulgrim’s own, a fattened parody of the daemon primarch’s primarch’s soul-breaking perfection. N’kari ate the fruit and licked Fulgrim’s fingers.

‘Which war is this, brother dear?’ said Fulgrim, running a finger over N’kari’s cheek.

Fulgrim snarled as soon as Layak willed him speech. ‘I will take your soul and–’ ‘Your consort has already issued the necessary threats.'

N’kari walked to Fulgrim’s side, its bull-headed form shrinking and thinning until it was a slender figure wrapped in red silk, its skin the colour of a shark’s belly, its eyes black orbs. A delicate crest of bone and skin ran down the centre of its scalp. ‘Where the Prince of the Princes goes, so go I,’ it said, its voice a melody that promised bliss and suffering. ‘I am bound to this and to him. As you command him, so shall I follow your will.

By the way let's not forget the words of my man Tyrell, Renegade Lord of Arden IX (Codex: Chaos Space Marines (8th Edition, pg. 52):

Take care, lest your protests grow tiresome. I have asked for so little! Anyone would think that I have asked you to sacrifice yourselves and your sons! And yet, in Slaanesh's boundless and pleasing mercy, I have asked only for your daughters. Surely you would not deny me my small enjoyments?

And I don't care what fandom thinks about my beloved Ian Watson. I don't like he's other space marines. But his Children of Emperor are great:

Were the screaming tethered female prisoners hallucinating while abominations were perpetrated slowly and perversely upon their flesh? A few tormentors had shed items of armour, exposing grotesquely mutated rampant groins, their organs of pleasure bifurcated and more, with squinting eyes sprouting from them, and with drooling lips. Others had no need to shed armour. Chaos Spawn had materialized: wolf-sized creatures with legs of spiders and bodies of imps, with questing tentacles and phallic tubes. Jaq himself almost believed that he was hallucinating. A snake-like umbilical cord connected these spawn to the swollen groin-guards of their master – who stood back, roaring and whinnying with delight, as they guided the spawn in the ravishing of their captives, soaking up the sensations of these roving external members. Corralling other hysterical captives were beastmen slaves armed with serrated axes. A Chaos Tech-Marine monitored these slaves. His armour was studded with spikes. Each shoulder pauldron was in the shape of giant clutching fingers. He wore a nightmare helmet shaped like a horse’s head, eyes glowing red. One of the shaggy beastmen drooled and dropped his axe. The beastman reached out a paw to caress a particularly voluptuous captive. Immediately the Tech-Marine adjusted a control-box strapped to his forearm. The disobedient beastman’s metal collar exploded, severing his head. The head fell. It bounced and rolled amidst the captives even as the beastman’s body was tottering.

I almost forgot to add that in the book Renegades: Lord of Excess Xantine emphasizes that he is fascinated by love. He liked to kill, torture and just look at lovers. So much so that he was delighted with the way his personal daemonette of Slaanesh hugged him. The usual hug after sex, something personal and more sensual.

Later, he warms up to Cecile, a psyker, but not enough to not use her as a navigator. Although the book mentions that he didn't want to know whether she sighed in surprise or pain when he loaded the helmet on her.

He also called one woman, whom he had picked up a long time ago (she interested him because she laughed when she learned that she had become with the inhabitants of the world, who kicked her out of the city, calling her a witch) a muse.

 So...

It is clear that, first of all, the Emperor's Children derive pleasure from murder and torture. But still this is not enough. Some may have their own personal obsession. For example, Lucius' fencing. A Space Marine was mentioned who sought satisfaction in the spiritual realm rather than the material. They may love music, food, or take drugs. Including fucking. It's just not their main goal.

So everyone who is against “sex among space marines” can relax. Yes, there is sex drive, but this is just one of the pleasures. Besides, only the Emperor's Children have this thing… at least I haven't found any other Space Marines yet. But judging by my excellent analysis, if I try, who knows.

[mcflymemes]

TO CATCH A THIEF PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 1955 film, adjust as necessary

not only did i enjoy that kiss last night, i was awed by its efficiency.

left in a hurry, huh?

i'm in love with you.

now that's a ridiculous thing to say.

you're leaving fingerprints on my arm.

[name], why bother?

my only comment would be highly censorable.

some nights a person doesn't need to drink.

the book you're reading is upside down!

they came for me an hour ago.

i called the police from your room and told them who you are and everything you've been doing tonight.

why don't you own a place like this?

the pastries are light as air.

even in this light, i can tell where your eyes are looking.

i haven't stolen a piece of jewelry in fifteen years.

what do you think of my kitchen?

now, let's get down to business.

now i am going to have you investigated.

coincidence can be terrible.

how many did you kill?

you are a man of obvious good taste in everything.

my nerves could stand a drink.

say something nice to her, [name].

you make the choice.

you're here in europe to buy a husband.

the man i want doesn't have a price.

so this is where you live?

thank you. you've been most unkind.

if i'm ever hungry, i'll eat someplace else.

what can i do for you, [name]?

you need clothes and money?

take my boat and go to the islands.

i'm thinking of going home to america.

i wouldn't put it past you.

it has to be somebody who knew every detail of my technique.

you don't believe me any more than the rest.

i don't like running, hiding, and leaving a trail of doubt in everyone's mind.

i shall defend you when i can.

the police are chasing the wrong man.

they're all looking for you.

i only made one mistake.

i was talking about the fireworks!

doesn't it make you nervous to be in the same room with thousands of dollars worth of diamonds, and unable to touch them?

you're mad.

if they catch you, nobody will believe what you say.

you have a rare skill for inspiring confidence.

i only do one favor a day.

look, if you don't want to do this...

you're getting us wet!

a man should never regret his past.

what's on your mind?

i was just thinking about you.

i work for a living.

you can't touch me.

i don't know what you wanted. i know what you got.

in that case, we should hurry.

may i ask you a personal question?

if you're caught, would you be angry with me if i pretended that i was going to give you up to the cops?

act as if you're a pretty girl out for a ride.

don't buy any new clothes with the money yet.

nobody will ever recognizes me in these.

we're both taking a big chance.

what happens to you if i'm caught?

you made a bad choice of profession.

suppose it falls into the wrong hands.

why don't we enjoy our lunch first?

i don't want to seem impatient.

for what it's worth, i only stole from people who wouldn't go hungry.

i'm sorry for ever starting in crime.

i look back with horror on every job i pulled.

something bothering you?

i'm having dinner with them tomorrow.

i will continue to complain.

want me to buy that for you?

i have an intense dislike for it.

[aanxiousangel]

I'm always dying for more asl bros content pretty please *sparkly dog eyes*

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ~

anˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ANONNNNN YOU READ MY MIND AND STOLE MY HEART goshhhhh i love asl bros I COULD CRY <3 its a little unedited tho fml :') ((and if its not obvious ace is my BABYYYY)) wcˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 2965 total cwˏˋ°•*⁀➷ jealousy, y/n smacks tf out of ace, y/n is kinda fuckin drunk..., cheesy shit

Portgas D Ace

Fire Fist Ace. Loved by many, loved even more by women on the islands. You decided to join him in sailing, tired of being stuck on that island. Sure, you saw Ace as a brother for a long, long time. But…it was inevitable. You hit puberty and suddenly, it wasn’t some sibling bond. It was nothing but blood, sweat, and tears to fight off the emotions.

I mean… Come on. He was tall and fucking hot. Literally. You lost count of how many times he almost burned you when he was still learning how to control his devil fruit powers. In turn, you poured ice cold water on him as some sort of punishment. He wasn’t happy in the slightest.

Eventually, you two grew into some fine young adults. And I mean fine as hell. Pirates swooned over you left and right until they saw Ace constantly by your side. Despite them catching somewhat of a memo, the fangirls did not.

Women flocked to the ebony-haired beauty with ease, practically dogpiling upon seeing him to get to him. Often enough, it earned him a free round of drinks and food in an attempt to catch his attention. It made your skin crawl constantly.

And while he definitely seemed like a flirt, he couldn’t care less. He did enjoy the food and liquor though. He was just so oblivious to you glaring daggers from the bar.

Little to your knowledge, Ace purposely scared men off by your side, throwing evil glares or quite literally spitting fireballs at them. Like your own personal guard dog.

One night, you’d had one too many and you couldn’t help but get irritated. You paid your tab, not giving Ace and his groupies a second glance as you stormed out. It took the drunken sailor a moment, not thinking it was you storming out at first. But the second he caught a whiff of your sweetened scent, he jumped the table, darting out after you.

Hell, you were already halfway to the ship when he spotted you. Have you ever seen a man run so fast in heavy ass boots?! Fuck no. But his impending steps scared the shit out of you. You drew your katana, spinning around to meet Ace’s neck with the blade.

He could see the fear in your eyes until your brain registered it was him. There was a moment where your gaze softened, but quickly turned sour. It made his heart ache. You never gave him that look.

“Why did you leave? The party wasn’t over!” Ace rasped, still catching his breath as you sheathed the sharp blade.

“Go back, Ace,” you snapped, a slight slur between your words.

“C’mon, Y/N, come back with me,” he pouted, knowing it made you weak. His damned puppy-pleading eyes and lip quiver always had you giving in.

“No,” you snapped, turning on your heel to continue going home.

“What the fuck?” Ace fell into step alongside you, staring in disbelief. “You actually just… Y/N! What did I do?”

“Nothing, Ace! Go party with your fanclub,” you huffed out, running a hand through your grimey hair. Gods, you were beginning to sweat just from anger.

“Wait, fanclub? Those chicks? Is that why you’re so pissy?” His voice had risen, as if he had a right to be upset with you. You just wanted to get out of there.

“Pissy?!” You half-laughed half-scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks.

“Yeah! Pissy! You’re bein’ childish!” He mocked your exasperated tone.

“Oh, because you can talk!” A sarcastic laugh escaped you as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Ace sucked his teeth, “Don’t be a bitch, Y/N.”

Before you could think about your actions, your palm was stinging and his jaw was slack with shock. Neither of you were exactly coordinated at the moment so it was his jawbone catching most of the impact. His hand carefully cupped the stinging sensation, his jaw moving side to side.

“Fuck,” you whispered, staring at him all doe-eyed. “A-Ace, I’m so sorry. I-I…”

“You really pack a fuckin’ punch,” he chuckled, not meeting your eyes.

“I swear it won’t happen…again…” You watched as he took a deep breath, looking up at the sky.

“Stop bottlin’ shit up. That’s exactly what happens. You fucking blow up,” Ace’s voice held no anger, no malice, nothing. He sounded almost like a parent scolding their child.

“I’m going back to the ship.” You whispered, stepping back.

Ace’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, yanking you into him. Nausea hit as you stumbled into his chest. You couldn’t even warn him before it spewed from your mouth, eyes watering as you choked.

“Ew! Y/N!” Ace whined, quickly jumping back.

“You throw a drunk person–” Another wave hit you, forcing you to vomit on the stone road, “And you expect them not to vomit?”

“You stink,” Ace shuddered, stepping back.

“Obviously,” you sobered up, standing up carefully. There was a bit of vomit in your hair making you cringe. “I need a shower.”

“Shit, now I do too,” he whined again, freaking out that a drop of vomit splattered on his leg.

You rolled your eyes, “Could have one of your maidens clean you up.”

Ace frowned at you, “Come on! I thought ya dropped this whole chick thing!”

“Whatever, Ace,” you walked up the gangway, leaving him on the edge of the docks.

You didn’t hear his heavy boots following behind anymore. It twisted your stomach into knots as you walked through the empty ship, finding your way to the bathroom. Your hands weakly worked the nozzles to turn the water warm, eyes still unfocused from the amount of sake you downed to forget the image of him. Specifically the women flanking his sides, shoving alcohol and food down his throat. Somehow, not their tongues.

Steam fogged the bathroom as you undressed, a little wobbly on your feet. Puking was definitely your least favorite thing to do after a party. The door swung open as you worked the buttons on your shorts, a sharp scream escaping you.

“Tell me what the hell I did,” Ace shut the door behind him, hands on his hips like a sassy woman.

“Ace! Get out!” You covered your breasts immediately.

“Tell me what’s got a stick up your ass!” He wasn’t even focused on your tits. Just the fact that he couldn’t understand why you were genuinely angry at him.

“I’m naked, asshole!” You felt dizzy, heavily embarrassed by his intrusion.

“I have boobs too!” Ace motioned to his muscles, clearly not giving a shit how you were freaking out.

“Those are pecs!? Are you dumb?!” You tried shoving him towards the door, but he wasn’t budging.

“Same shit. Now talk,” his boot tapped impatiently as he pouted.

“Oh, my god! Turn around!” You whined, needing to get in the water while it was still hot.

Ace rolled his eyes, turning around. You shoved the rest of your clothes off, almost eating shit as you hid behind the shower curtain, soaked with water. He glanced back, seeing your shadow against the opaque drape.

“Start explainin’.” He moved to sit on the countertop, leaning back against the wall.

“It’s not a big fuckin’ deal, Ace.” You thoroughly washed your hair, the massage making your eyes roll back. Fuck, how long had it been since you felt this clean?

“It is to me, Y/N. That should mean somethin’ to you.” He muttered. Maybe you were hearing things, but he sounded hurt.

“It just gets on my nerves to see women obsess over you.” You stated, closing your eyes as the water drained the bubbles from your locks.

“Someone’s jealous.” His smirk was evident in his voice.

You stayed silent. It wasn’t easy to lie to him. Nor did you want to confirm his suspicions.

“Y/N?”

Nope. Not doing it.

“Y/N.”

You were planning on staying silent but he yanked open the curtain, half worried that you’d magically died in the shower. He let out a sigh of relief when you shrieked, smacking his hand away to pull the curtain back into place.

“Pervert!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“I thought you dropped dead, idiot!”

“Are you dense?!”

Ace pursed his lips, staring at your eyes. What did he do wrong? Obviously, opening the shower might’ve been was wrong. But the anger. You were so angry with him… It actually hurt his feelings. Poor baby.

“Ace, why are you so stuck on this?”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

And there goes your heart. It ached at his words. If you weren’t soaking wet and bare, you would’ve hugged him. So, you did the next best thing you could think of. You told him the truth.

“You’re an idiot.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. A habit when you were giving in to whatever he wanted.

“Ouch. Hurtful,” Ace crossed his arms.

“No, not because of that. You’re so fucking blind, Ace. I’m…fuck. I like you! So, yes, I get upset when women are touching you, getting all of your attention. You flirt with them in front of my face. It hurts. You always do that shit.”

Ace’s poor face. His jaw slacked, staring at you. He was stuck on those three words. Was he seriously that drunk..? Was he starting to hallucinate? Had to be. Not…not you, right? How could he be so blind? He was a god at reading women, so, why not you? Right up until this point, he assumed you still saw him as your older brother.

“Earth to Ace?” Your hand waved in front of his face.

“You like me…” He exhaled, not realizing he stopped breathing for a few seconds.

“Yeah, kinda just said that.” You yanked the shower curtain closed to finish up.

“You like me!” Ace yanked it back open.

“Stop that!” You tried fighting his strength without ripping the thin plastic.

“Hell no!” Ace jumped into the shower, almost falling over as he cupped your face. “You fucking like me?! Since when?”

“Sh-ince–” He squished your face too much, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Ace!”

“Sorry.” He retracted his hands, resting them on his hat.

“Since we were kids, dumbass,” you rubbed your cheeks softly.

“I’m so stupid,” Ace breathed.

“You are,” you went to turn back to your shower, but he was quicker.

The tiles were ice cold against your back. The warmth of his lips made up for it though. He pulled back, looking down at you.

“You taste like vomit.”

“Ace!”

Flame Emperor Sabo

The stars twinkled against the midnight sky. You poor thing, drinking away your feelings. It almost became a monthly ritual. You’d sneak off in the dark with a heavy bottle of sake and sit on the shore’s edge. Water rippled around your toes, leaving icy kisses against your skin.

It wasn’t that you enjoyed being drunk out of your mind. It just took the edge off most times. You actually kind of hated the burn. The flavor wasn’t too great. Flavor… Huh, your mind lingered on wondering what Sabo tasted like. Just one little kiss. Wouldn’t that be something…

This was the first night you finished a whole bottle so you weren’t coherent whatsoever. You didn’t catch the footsteps walking up behind you or his voice softly calling your name. Not until his hand rested on your shoulder did you look over and see him.

His blond curls and black attire made you smile lopsidedly. You thought that you were just starting to see things from your inebriated state. Fuck, how strong was that liquor?

“You look like Sabo,” a giggle escaped you followed by a hiccup.

“I would think so,” he chuckled softly, sitting next to you. “Why are you out here?”

“I don’t know,” you turn your gaze back up to the stars.

“Are you sure about that?” Sabo hummed, gazing up at the sky.

“It’s dumb,” you snort, rubbing your heavy eyes.

“Tell me. I’m a great listener, you know,” he chuckled.

“I just really like him. No…I love him.” You sigh, your eyes growing heavy. You desperately try to fight it off, but it’s getting harder by the second. “But he doesn’t feel the same. So, I drink to force it all out. Or push it down. However it works. It’s a thing now. My thing. I don’t know how you found me.”

“Who?” His voice cracked, his eyes moving to glance at you subtly.

“Sabo.” Now it’s your own voice’s turn to crack. “He’s so sweet, so passionate. He doesn’t have time for a relationship though…”

He stays silent. Did he hear you right? Were you even sure? He could see the bottle was empty. There was no way you were all the way there. You must’ve been drunk out of your mind.

“See? ‘S dumb,” you mumble tiredly. “Just…don’t tell him I told you.”

“I won’t.” He watched your eyes slowly close, your body letting the waves lull you asleep. “I promise.”

Sabo scooped you up, bringing you back to the ship. He made a B-line for his quarters, tucking you into his bed. Out of respect, he wasn’t going to sleep with you. He couldn’t. But…your hand latched onto him tightly, brows furrowed in your sleep. Sabo tried to tug your hand from his coat but fuck, were you strong.

Sabo sighed and slid in beside you, holding you close. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

“I know,” you mumbled drunkenly against his chest, feeling his body tense up against you.

Monkey D Luffy

Oh, sweet Luffy. Such innocence in this strong fighter. It was laughable really. You could absolutely do anything and he wouldn’t bat an eye. Wouldn’t dare second-guess that you were just being you. After all, you two grew up together. Well, you four. But you followed Luffy on his adventure, some sort of instinct to protect this naive kid.

You were really into him. The whole crew could see it from miles away. Nami and Franky always teased you about it. Hell, even Sanji teased you. He tried giving you love advice, but you’d give him a pointed look and he would roll his eyes.

“You don’t have to look at me like that.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Alright! Alright! Tch. I know.”

You’d bring Luffy snacks while he was busy doing things around the ship–if he wasn’t already scavenging the fridge. Or force his stinky self to bathe. He’d scream halfway across the ship, telling the crew you were kidnapping him. Robin would tease that you were like his mother which you’d shiver in disgust.

“So, you enjoy being a parent?”

“What?”

“You’re like his mom.”

“Ew… That feels so wrong.”

One Sunday evening, Luffy came creeping into your room. He watched you carefully, extremely confused. You looked up from your book, raising your eyebrow as he flinched.

“What’s wrong, Luffy?”

“Bath.”

“Is it broken?” You get up, leaving your book on the bed.

“No. You didn’t make me take one.”

You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Um, no, I didn’t.”

“Why?” He tilted his head and it made you smile.

“I’m not your mom,” you shrug softly, rubbing your arm awkwardly.

“So?” Luffy, still confused, went over and started tugging you along. “I know you’re not.”

“Where we goin’?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Bath.” He made it sound so obvious.

“You want a bath?” Your hand flew up to your mouth to stop your laughter.

Luffy stepped into the bathroom, pointing at the tub. “No… Yes… I don’t know.”

You started the water, plugging up the drain. He watched you, pouting. Why’d you stop fighting him? Was he being too annoying? His chest felt funny as he stared at you.

“Why aren’t you making me take one?” He asked again, poking your side.

“I figured you didn’t want it.”

You weren’t just going to up and tell him Robin’s comment made you feel strange and distant. You didn’t want him seeing you as his mother. Not when you had feelings for him.

“You’re lying. Your nose moved.”

“What?”

“Your nose. It did that thing when you lied.”

Your face went red, looking away from him. You shut the water off and nodded at it.

“Get in.” You glanced at him.

“No. Why are you lying? We don’t lie to each other.”

Luffy was right. You two didn’t lie to each other. It was just something that stuck all throughout the years. You sighed softly, dropping your head between your hands.

“I know and I’m sorry. But I can’t tell you.”

“That’s the same thing as lying.”

“Luffy, get in the damn tub.”

“Hey! Don’t be mean!” Luffy whined.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” you rubbed your face, looking up at him. Dammit. He was adorable. Cute. Really fucking attractive. Especially when he wore his shirt open… Crap. “Luffy, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Luffy tilted his head again. “What’s wrong?”

“No, like, I love love you.” You mumbled.

“What do you mean?” He sat in front of you, forcing you to look at him.

“Like… I have a crush on you, dummy. I love you. In love,” You bit your inner cheek, nervously tapping your heel on the floor.

“And…you didn’t want to make me take a bath because you love love me?” Luffy got up, taking his clothes off.

You looked away until you could hear the water splashing, “It’s not going to make sense.”

“Oh, well,” Luffy laid in the water. Before the effects could fully weaken him, he yanked you into the tub with him. “I think I love love you too.”

“Asshole!” You sputtered, looking up at him now drenched.

Luffy grinned, puckering his lips. Maybe he wasn’t so naive.

[psuedosugu]

2am ★

suguru geto x reader

synopsis: your friend (?) comes into your room at 2 in the morning because he can’t sleep.

notes: hes so precious i just wanna kiss him ahhhhhh

the glowing numbers on your alarm clock read 2:00 am. the sky outside your semi-open window shows pitch black while the curtain covering it occasionally flutters due to the wind.

you lie in your bed, still and unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your head plus your efforts to suppress them.

these days, your mind seems to always wonder back to the star plasma vessel mission, to riko herself.

riko amanai. a young girl, no older than 13. she didn’t deserve to die. you can still remember the sound of the gun hitting her, the sound of her now-still body hitting the ground, and her cold lifeless gaze. what could you have done differently to save her?

moping about it was doing you no good, though, so you decided that you would stop thinking about it all together, which was easier said than done.

you stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of something, anything else. counting sheep was turning out futile. sleep. sleep. you just wanted sleep. it felt like you hadn’t slept in months.

the familiar click! of your doorknob turning snapped you awake. you almost never lock your room, but only one person would come in here so late at night.

“nnh…suguru.” you sat up to look at him.

“did i wake you up? i’m sorry.” he asks sheepishly. his dark hair is outside of its usual bun, cascading onto his shoulders and part-way down his back. his eye bags are obvious, he must be just as tired as you are.

“i can leave if you wa-“ he starts but you interrupt him. “you didn’t wake me up! i- i couldn’t sleep either and even if i wasn’t awake, you’re always free to come in here.”

he had already stayed the night in your dorm a handful of times so him still being nervous about it was confusing, but cute nonetheless.

“you’re too kind to me,” he says, a smile adorning his face. that smile. that stupid smile.

admittedly, when your mind wasn’t occupied with dead girls toppling onto concrete floors, it was usually filled with him.

you scooted over and patted on the space next to you. as you started to sink back into the warm sheets, he made his way beside you, sliding into the covers.

“how’d your mission tod- yesterday go?” you ask, turning your head to look at him. he’s gorgeous, so gorgeous, you think.

“mmh, about as good as it could’ve gone.” he sighs.

sometimes, you feel like he’s the only person who will ever truly understand. he was there, right next to you when it all went down. maybe that’s why the two of you are so close now, a trauma bond of some sort.

the two of you lay together, only a few inches in between. that space was slowly shrinking as you gradually shifted closer every time you stole a glance at him. it felt taboo, these feelings that you were having for him. you weren’t supposed to feel this way. not about him.

unaware to you, suguru had been having similar thoughts. as much as he’d try to deny them because you would never ever like him back, he thought, they always sprang back up. he was tired of having to hide them.

to him, you were the sun itself, the center of his galaxy. he was so lucky, he thought, that you let him in your space so often, that he was able to breathe in your presence.

your shoulders were now side by side, touching, and he didn’t say a thing. suguru’s comforting presence had your eyes drooping.

your mind started to wonder to what it would be like to sleep next to him every night, maybe in a house the two of you would own instead of these dorms. you knew were getting ahead of yourself with your white-picket-fence fantasies, but you were too tired to care.

half asleep and absentminded, you snuggled closer to him, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck and slipping an arm around him. maybe you were feeling bold. maybe you were too tired to fully comprehend what you were doing.

suguru froze, his heart threatening to thump out of his chest. he was sure you could feel it against you. could you feel it? could you feel his emotions for you? did you know? he wanted you to know. he wanted to spill his hear out, to kiss you like there was no tomorrow, to have you.

he needed this. he needed you.

“[name]?” he murmured. you let out a faint hum in response, teetering between the border of awake and asleep.

“look,” he braced himself. he didn’t know what would come out of this, if your friendship would survive. he didn’t want to lose you, the only one who, he thought, truly cared, but he couldn’t live like this.

“..I’ve been having these feelings….these feelings about you. i..I’m really glad we’re friends, but every time you talk to me i just don’t know. i don’t know if i want just this. i want more. i want us to at least try having more. i know its sudden but its how i feel.”

he waited in anticipation for your response, staring at the ceiling. a few moments passed and he called your name. “[name]?” he asked, “..please say something.” a few more moments passed and he heard a soft snore. he looked down and sure enough you were knocked out, your chest rising and falling.

he smiled, moving a piece of your hair out of your face. had you heard any of what he said? would you even remember? probably not, he thought. oh well. there’s always tomorrow.

his eyes started to droop too, and he slipped into unconsciousness to thoughts of you, you, you.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 10/12

Anonymous asked: Scratch: Won't anyone think of the children!! If you're gonna be smooching then get a room!!! also Scratch: Time to go manipulate more children into destroying their relationships! @manorinthewoods asked: There are two events in which Scratch has, so far, gained emotions: one, when he discovered that the Serkets stole an incredibly important magical item and hid it for centuries or millenia; and two, romance in his workroom. ~LOSS (20/9/24)

@manorinthewoods asked: "Is it because there’s a ‘good’ and an 'evil’ way for a God Tier to die?" On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this brain fart? ~LOSS (20/9/24)

Wait, is that a brain fart? Because to me, it still scans.

Prospit, the 'good' moon, would naturally be associated with heroism, and vice-versa for Derse. Am I missing something really obvious?

Anonymous asked: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Death's Bell grows ever nearer. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. But will it determine whether the thief is trully a sinner? Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Honk. I guess we'll see :o) @ben-guy asked: The showdown between Vriska and Terezi really is one of the watershed moments of HS imo. You've questioned if Vriska has matured enough to escape death by mysterious transcendental judgement engine… but let's not forget the meanings of the words in question, and their inherent linguistic and philosophical ambiguity. What if her death being caused by her pursuit of a heroic (albeit foolish) plan tragically makes her growth the cause of a permanent death instead? What if Terezi's decision to kill her is just regardless of Vriska's motivations, making her growth a moot point? Of course, this feels a lot less mutually exclusive, which goes against the implications of the clock imagery. […]

How did Scratch phrase it again?

The terms of a God Tier permadeath are defined according to the case of the individual - which implies that Heroic and Just are subjective, even to Sburb. It sounds like there might not be any ironclad rules, and that everyone's ruling works differently.

Yes, Scratch appears to be outlining some universal examples here - but what does, say, 'corruption' really mean? There are many equally valid interpretations, and a lot of them are contradictory. Maybe each death uses the definition that makes the most sense to that player.

In any case, I think Vriska's fate is currently meant to be unclear. She's designed from the ground up to be a complex, morally ambiguous character, and you could construct a valid argument for either outcome.

For my part, I'm fully convinced this will resolve as Just. I've been predicting Vriska's death for most of the Act now, and it's extremely fitting for it to happen at Terezi's reluctant hands. All those Incidents are finally coming full circle, and they're coming for her.

@morganwick asked: Note that Scratch starts talking about dark pockets and needing to speculate immediately after Vriska sees Karkat and Terezi's corpses. That's all Terezi needed to see, which means it's all Scratch needed to know - and all Hussie needed to know as well.

True! The fight that Scratch couldn't call was part of a doomed timeline. Its outcome was completely irrelevant to the story - and therefore, there's a good chance that Hussie didn't bother to decide on the victor. Author Theory survives another day!

@relaxxattack asked: i dont know if this counts as spoilers (it's a quote from andrew hussie) but i think your theory on scratch's omniscience is basically spot-on! "Doc here refers to the dark spots, the pockets of void on which his vision is built. These hint at limitations to his omniscience. As an alt-author figure, his omniscience makes sense, since the author has sweeping knowledge of story details as well. Because I "know everything," he "knows everything" too. Of course, as I write the story, there are plenty of things I don't know yet, and the "not knowing" is always an important part of the process in this largely improvisational medium. The known gaps are worked into the story, evaded through time skips and other tricks, filling out the surrounding narrative until certain answers become clearer, and then revealed at the right moment. The voids are built around, and in a real way, become foundational, almost load-bearing gaps in knowledge, just as he describes. Pillars of shadow. So his dark spots are not only a limitation to an otherwise ridiculously overpowered villain that can be exploited, they're a feature of a specific type of "authorial omniscience" copied into his profile." -- Andrew Hussie

...and it's officially Hussie-approved! Let's fucking go!

Anonymous asked: One kind of less obvious thing he says about circumstantial simultaneity is that it weaves together perfectly disparate chronologies such as a pair of distinct sessions, so it seems it is at work when there is communication between sessions, such as conversations between humans and trolls. ie: The troll sending the message is circumstantially simultaneous to the human receiving the message. Ditto for the memos. Anonymous asked: Posting for someone else again. -DJ || I interpret Circumstantial Simultaneity to mean a very simple thing: "those events happens at different times, but at the same meta-time". Especially if the things happen in different worlds, and so happening at the same time is impossible, because different worlds have isolated timelines. - RM

That makes a lot more sense than my interpretation. I think I was thrown off by Scratch's insistence that Circumstantial Simultaneity is 'not fully comprehensible to a mortal mind'. His use of such phrasing led me to assume that the concept was more complicated than it appeared, leading me to try and puzzle out the 'real' meaning of the term.

So, in a nutshell, circumstantial simultaneity is when multiple sections of reality are linked by shared events, allowing their local timelines to synchronize. Seems straightforward enough.

Anonymous asked: i don't think scratch technically lied. there are multiple ways in which scratch could die in the same way that there are multiple ways in which anyone could die - an axe could theoretically kill you, but that doesn't mean there has to be a timeline where you get killed with an axe

The semantics here are pretty interesting.

Scratch has stated that there are multiple ways to kill him, which could mean:

That there are multiple scenarios which have a non-zero probability of killing him.

That there are multiple scenarios that would hypothetically cause him to die, if they actually occurred.

These two statements have fairly similar meanings, but, as anon pointed out, there's an important distinction between the two. Statement 1 requires Scratch to actually die in some timelines, but Statement 2 doesn't require him to ever die, in any timeline.

Scratch has stated that he'll only die in one timeline, which means that there is only one scenario that will ever lead to his death. All other scenarios will never lead to his death - and thus, even if they could 'hypothetically' kill him, the probability that they will kill him is zero.

@heliotropopause asked: Never change, Noir. is that the oil jug WV uses for his mural in act 2? how'd it get to Scratch's lair?

I don't think it's the same jug, for the simple reason that both Carapacians emptied out the whole thing for their respective shenanigans. This ain't no Alchemy Jug!

abysswarlock asked: I like to think that the meta joke with the disks are a parallel of how the kings scepters hold small instantiations of skaia that exist within skaia itself, in this case the story of homestuck exists in disk form within the narrative itself.

Perhaps, but the Scepter's recursion is explained to be a game mechanic, whereas there's currently no explanation for the disk's existence. I guess Hussie himself could have put it there, but, like... why?

Anonymous asked: ‘His army thus inspired would spearhead a major re8ellion. Surely one at least on the scale of the sectarian revolt crushed 8y the High8loods, who thereafter for8ade its mention, or any invoc8tion of the heretical sym69ls at all, even in private journals.’ do you have any theories about this line?

Karkat's leadership shines in times of immediate crisis, which is part of why he struggled to keep his team together in the Veil. He doesn't know how to motivate people without an immediate, in-your-face threat - but since his ancestor was leading a rebellion, that probably wasn't an issue for him. The threat was omnipresent.

In short, I think Karkat Senior was always in Vantas Panic Mode. He'd have spearheaded Alternia's first rebellion with vim, vigor, seemingly infinite stamina, and sheer, bloody-minded determination - and if he was anything close to as likeable as Karkat, folk heroism was virtually inevitable. I can't wait to learn more!

@semaphoricwave asked: w.r.t. learning Mindfang dates the Summoner: it makes you wonder if Vriska's obsession with Tavros was the Alternian equivalent of comphet. She had no respect for his agency in the scenario (not difficult to develop when you're able to mind control people), but also she didn't seem to hold much stock in her own agency in all that, either. It's not even a cueball fortune, she just seems to want to be true: this boy she wants to 'make better' (but doesn't know how) is meant to make her happy. Anonymous asked: so with the revelation of the summoner, this makes TWO characters that vriska canonically was in/pursued as part of a romantic relationship that were descendants from her ancestors romantic partners. girl is inventing new kinds of comphet 😭

Vriska, for god's sake. Terezi is right there.

@iknowitsgreen asked: I find it so interesting that there's now an implication that Vriska literally expected Tavros to grow wings and fly to safety when she threw him off that cliff. The question is, did she simply resent Tavros for proving her fantasy wrong, or did she convince herself that Tavros chose to be paralyzed over showing his wings to her? It somewhat recontextualizes her early treatment of him either way

Layers upon layers upon layers. Vriska was fucked up about Tavros from twenty directions at once, and should never have been let within a thousand feet of the poor guy.

@manorinthewoods asked: Since trolls growing wings is apparently some sort of mythic event, presumably the God Tier wings of Vriska specifically tie into this. A God Tier troll gaining wings would be much more significant to the troll than to the human reader, as their culture places incredible emphasis on the meaningfullness of such - and perhaps the God Tier ascension could be likened to such a 'pupation'. ~LOSS (10/9/24)

It would explain why both Vriska and Aradia got them, but John didn't. The trolls have a lot in common with insects, so it stands to reason that in their culture, an insect's metamorphosis would be associated with divine apotheosis.

Anonymous asked: It’s super fascinating riding along as you go through this sequence because when I first read homestuck literally all the mind games went over my head haha. I saw what happened, and had a decent grasp on the characters, but the idea that Gamzee was manipulating Terezi? Never occurred to me. Everything about “why didn’t Terezi suspect Gamze” was just a mystery I never solved (mostly because I never understood gamzee, and still don’t) So Thank You so much for helping me understand better, years later! It’s so wild to look back and know what happens, but still have a limited grasp on why it went down that way.

Thank you for the kind words!

And yeah, a lot of Gamzee's schtick seems to be focused on obfuscating what he's actually doing. The real smoking gun there was the near-complete loss of Terezi's deductive abilities, at the exact moment Gamzee should have entered her radar.

@skelekingfeddy asked: ive always seen the grand highblood as not a troll, but like, the head of the imperial drones. when asked why his blood is black hussie said ‘Because he’s a huge gross monster? I don’t what sort of answer would be meaningful.When the highbloods were setting up the judicial system, they said ok we’re going to need some judges for this thing. Then they said ok how about these massive brainless monsters, that would be so perfect.’ […] its a headcanon of mine that hht is technically the same species as the mother grub. same with the imperial drones. if the mother grub is a queen bee then the drones are…well, drones. and hht is, like, a drone foreman, or sergeant, or something. i imagine that trolls and the drones’ species evolved a reproductive symbiosis, but then the empire took advantage of it and co-opted the drones + hht as enforcers

There's such an interesting untold story here, about how the early trolls might have cyberized a formerly symbiotic species, and essentially made them its slaves.

I've always been interested in how, exactly, the trolls developed their symbioses, and what they might have looked like before Alternian civilization became what it is today.

Anonymous asked: terezi tries to play disc 2 on a gramophone because she literally doesn't know how a cd works - sgrub is all run via grubtech, and most of her humanning has been with mr turntables who even if asked would probably describe a cd through obtuse metaphor likening it to a vinyl record

Oh, good point. Terezi's from a civilization which left CDs behind a long, long time ago.

Hey, come to think of it, why does the Veil even have a…

...oh, right. The room isn't 'canon', so I probably shouldn't be trying to theorize too hard about its contents. It's not really part of the story.

@catlikeascendant asked: I had the impression that just like mindfang was vriska's FLARP character, Redglare was terezi's. That would explain terezi having the outfit and responding to the name, at least @somebody0214 asked: Terezi did roleplay a lot as the Redglare so it would make sense she would respond to Redglare. @dissonancies asked: I'm honestly not sure Terezi does know about her ancestor. […] Vriska had the journals, but she tries to keep her cards close to her chest- remember, "Mindfang" was Vriska's roleplay name. Who's to say she didn't just "casually" "suggest" Redglare for Terezi's character, without telling her why?

Vriska, just how many of your friends have you been molding into their ancestors?

I won't be mad - I just want to know.

Anonymous asked: Equius Sr being fit to Inherit the cueball due his passive Voidiness is another point to sharing classpects with Equius Jr, the Heir of Void. @cationicflood asked: now that youve met the Expatri8, you know now why Scratch didn’t know Vriska had the cue ball until Terezi told him — it’s spent untold centuries ensconced in Zahhak-flavored Void aura. Even when it was in Vriska’s possession, it so happened she was quite literally neighbors with Equius.

We've talked a lot about how I believe Scratch's 'dark pockets' represent information that Hussie hasn't decided on yet. It's admittedly a little difficult to reconcile that with the fact that Void, an in-universe Aspect, is strongly implied to be the source of at least some of these pockets.

Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level, as well as a literal one. Like, perhaps Void is the aspect of author uncertainty, and therefore, anything that Hussie hasn't decided on out-of-universe is canonically 'hidden by Void'.

Anonymous asked: Mindfang warning Vriska about looking into the cueball…. So what you're saying is that Mindfang warned Vriska about the *stares*

It literally keeps happening!

@wolygan asked: So based off of the troll Ancestors we have seen, what do you think the rest might be like? also what do you think of the ones we have seen, since we don't know much about them yet. @absinthe-and-alabaster asked: Hi! I'm wondering if you have any updated thoughts from your initial ancestor theory post about the ancestors we haven't seen yet, given we know a bit more about troll history now

Not a lot! I'm obviously curious about the others, particularly Karkat's, but it's hard to come up with any concrete theories, other than 'their experiences and personalities will parallel those of their descendants', which is a freebie, based on the Ancestors we already have.

Anonymous asked: To be fair to EQ,Nepeta was far and safe when Gamzee attacked, and she could easly hide out of harm way with her skills. He just miscalculated and didn't realise she would follow him and attack Gamzee after he died.

True - but at the same time, he knew that Gamzee would still remain at large after his death, and that he, Equius, would no longer be able to protect Nepeta.

Even if she hadn't attacked him immediately, Gamzee would have remained a significant danger to everyone else on the Veil, Nepeta included. Had Equius fought back, he could have ensured that Gamzee would never be able to harm her.

@martinkhall asked: It's obvious to us that's not Vriska's handwriting. But just because Terezi can smell what the words say doesn't nesisarily mean she can smell the difference in how they're writen.

Plus, would Terezi necessarily be familiar with Vriska's handwriting? After all, most of the trolls seemed to communicate exclusively through modern technology. Would they really have any cause to pass notes to each other while FLARPing?

Anonymous asked: I would push back on the assertion that Heroic and Just deaths are the only way stories can work. One can be slain by a villain but not be a hero, and that can still matter to the story. A certain event from A Song of Ice and Fire springs to mind.

Oh, for sure - that's definitely correct outside of Homestuck. But within the comic, they really might be the only ways to die that Sburb considers 'dramatic' enough to be permanent.

Outside of the God Tier system, though, anything goes. After all, Equius was slain by a villain, and he didn't exactly die a hero.

@flerponius asked: Not really relevant to anything that's going on right now, but I thought you might find it interesting. In the Homestuck physical books, AH comments that the 4 grist types unlocked by default at the beginning of the comic (not including build grist) are related to the players quests; specifically, each grist type is a blight on the land it's found on, and the players quest would involve removing it from the land. I don't think this was explained anywhere else in the comic.

Oh, interesting. I wonder what they were supposed to be for?

Like, how does Rose's chalk relate to bringing life back to her oceans? Did Hussie have different Quest in mind for her, back then?

@manorinthewoods asked: The human session is shaping up to have lasted for less than a week due to Jack's interference, while the trolls slogged through over 600 hours (probably 612, to be specific, or 25.5 days) of relationship drama, powerleveling, and the production of inane yet somehow powerful weapons. Which of these is a more 'normal' length for a session? Did the trolls take too long, or were they rushing? Do bigger sessions last for longer? ~LOSS (2/9/24)

I'm pretty sure the troll session was closer to a 'typical' length.

According to Karkat, the human Reckoning arrived significantly sooner than normal - I assume this was due to Jack's double regicide.

If the human session had gone more smoothly, I imagine that it, too, would have taken several weeks. Like the trolls, the kids would have been able to hang out in person - and unlike the trolls, it probably wouldn't have devolved into multiple homicides.

@cheyj05 asked: Hey, just so you know it's pretty much impossible to read your liveblog in order on mobile. Searching the act 1 tag doesn't work so you pretty much would just have to scroll ALL the way back, which is impossible @cheyj05 asked: Ignore my last ask, I figured out how to do it

Mind sharing how, actually? I've been assuming that this was impossible, due to the Tumblr app's, uh, unique issues. If there's a way to browse the tags properly on mobile, I should probably add it to the pinned.

Anonymous asked: What do you mean "barely wind-themed", John made a car fly with his wind powers, why is a boat less believable?

You're not wrong. I guess I meant more that the boat's Breath energy looked a lot less like actual wind, and more like the abstract idea of Breath. It might just be stylistic, though.

@wolygan asked: I read another liveblog for Homestuck, and they just got to meeting Jade and then wrote a short essay on how they are convinced that Jade is the seer of light, just thought you might find that funny to know.

I do find that funny to know! Hussie got 'em again!

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

6.8k+

Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren.  Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.  

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company. 

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends. 

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment. 

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action. 

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.” 

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you. 

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around. 

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed. 

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high. 

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part. 

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger. 

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth. 

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner. 

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose. 

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose. 

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable. 

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds. 

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints. 

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.  

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud. 

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown. 

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life. 

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin. 

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance. 

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes. 

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center. 

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl. 

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit. 

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings. 

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time. 

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption. 

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin. 

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking. 

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again. 

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips. 

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous. 

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection. 

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return. 

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss. 

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

[otterloreart]

What's in the Box?

PONY PONIES IN THE BOX

If you've been following along you may have seen that @queenofsquids printed the Takara-inspired BJD last week, both in a "mini" test form and a full-sized one. The full-sized one was supposed to be in yellow, but the pure yellow resin turned out to be a more orangey tone. She incredibly generously offered to send me the orange pony BJD

And then

She incredibly incredibly again generously sent not only the little test takara-bjd in grey BUT ALSO printed my original takara 3D model and sent that?! This is so unbelievably kind and generous. I was so surprised when I opened them all!

I'm not sure if you were all aware but I actually dont have a print of the original "Takara duplicate" doll. I did get the seapony PLA printed at the library (and it was my first ever 3D print!).

For my second print, I got the Dollightful bunny doll printed because I wanted to have experience with jointed dolls made by other people before I put more complex models out. So I figured it would be a while before I got the chance to see my newer models printed.

So like its actually so kind of @queenofsquids to send these but also it's really meaningful to me because I started the takara project where I became obsessed with them over a year ago. It's so amazing to see this thing that frankly I spent so much time fiddling with (even if there are some imperfections; more about that later) and hold it in my hands 🥹 I just keep looking at them and smiling

Also I immediately stole the clothes off my NaNaNa dolls and put them on mini-takara-bjd. They're a little short but fit pretty well!

Some design notes/planned adjustments under cut

-The neck and arm balls are definitely too blocky, this doesn't impact the movement but it is very visually obvious

-Queenofsquids mentioned this but the arm bean is too big and gets stuck in the arm sockets.

^^ These two issues are the most obvious upon brief inspection but are also easy to fix so I'm gonna put out a version ASAP adjusting the file. Call it the version Version 1 Hotfix. Both of these should be fixed in the existing models with a bit of sanding.

-The legs are like just a touch too blocky and I think you can also see lines in the head and chest areas ;-; I think this would depend on the printer, like it might be fine in PLA due to the lower resolution. This can also be buffed out but I can adjust it with some effort

-> I think the blockiness issues come down to the fact I was trying to make the models not too high resolution because then the file size is massive, can't import into cura properly, and even slows down *my* beefy computer. that's why it might take a bit for me to adjust all of these pieces, especially the legs because they have a lot of booleans that lag blender. basically i leaned in the other direction and went a bit too far with some pieces.

-legs are very thin at the bottom (ran into this issue with the dollightful bunny doll too and had to redo quite a bit actually to make it neat)

-The bottom of the heart on the knee in particular is an imperfect fit. I was getting errors in Cura because of some issues related to the knee so I had to remesh it, if you'll remember, so I will need to maybe go in and redo that one :/

-The line around the eyes could be a touch more pronounced, its supposed to be somewhat stylized eyelashes

-I need to play with the arms/legs more to figure out potential issues with the existing joints. But they do at least work and hold poses. I'm not sure if people would prefer anything more complicated like locking joints or if this level of poseability is acceptable

Other things I want to experiment with

-hand pose variation

-nose/mouth variations? it is actually kind of funny to imagine you could switch the expression out to a little :o face or a c: or :3 type of thing

-pegasus/unicorn/fluffy hoof variants like i had planned before

so much stuff :0 and I haven't even finished bunny doll, although at least her paint job is basically done. Once I string the big BJD I can also test posing.

[cecilysobsessions]

THIEF (m.) | zuko

↬ word count: 8k

↬ fem!reader, enemies to lovers except zuko is insanely attracted to reader (so lowkey its not enemies to lovers lol) from the start and makes it really fucking obvious, zuko writes reader letters, some parts are from zuko’s pov

↬ summary: born into poverty with practically nothing, you managed to get through most of your life as a petty thief. turns out, you were pretty good at stealing and getting away with it. one night, you decide to target the great fire lord zuko of the fire nation. and it turns out, he’s kind of into it, and kind of into you.

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ warnings: slight knife play (is that a thing???), violence, blood, zuko attempting to stab you, zuko actually has rizz (unfortunately no canon awk zuko here 😓 but my fic DESTINY has that), pussy eating, hair pulling, swearing probably, typos

↬ a/n: when he threatens you with a knife in order to get you to kiss him and throws you in jail then burns your house down 😍

m.list

•••

“It’s you again,” he began, his hands at his side as if there wasn’t a whole ass dagger against his throat. “I was beginning to wonder where you had been. I missed you breaking into my room.”

“You look like you enjoy being threatened with a knife.” you spat out with a sly smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I hate it.” he teases, making no effort to resist you.

•••

There was a thief. A thief who could only be described as some low-life peasant that was terrorizing the kitchens in the middle of the night, never to be seen. But of course, the palace staff were always exaggerating the smallest things. As far as Zuko knew, it was only food that the thief ever stole. He didn’t mind much, after all, he used to do the same. However, clearly the thief thought they could do more than just steal kitchen scraps because that’s exactly what started happening. 

First, it was food scraps. Leftover lunch Zuko would throw away. 

Then it was the fruits and bread laying out on the counters in the kitchen.

The thief felt a little bold, so they began stealing trinkets here and there in the palace, some worth merely a meal, others worth the monthly salaries of the palace staff. 

Finally, the thief had found Zuko’s room.

Zuko was fed up. First, it was his food, but now it was his personal items? The newly crowned Fire Lord was sitting in his closet, golden eyes peeking through the cracks of the closet door. He was waiting—he had been for the past two hours—for the thief to enter his room. Perhaps there was a better way to catch the thug, but Zuko wanted to see them for himself, and capture the criminal with his own hands. He had been waiting and watching and he was growing more exhausted as it was later in the night, when he saw you.

Covered in head to toe black, he watched you silently climb to pick the lock on his window, and enter. Your face was covered in black, too, and all he could make out was the stunning gaze from your eyes. He watches you silently roam around his bedroom familiarly. You had clearly been here before. It was as if you were looking for something specific. Maybe something you had your eye on already. Zuko watched your figure search the room, and it was dead silent in the room except for the sound of his heartbeat. He watched—no, observed your movements. You had moved around stealthily and expertly; you were experienced. You knew what you were doing.

•••

You noticed the Fire Lord the moment you stepped into his room. How could you not? He wasn’t in his bed when you entered and judging by the way it was still made, you knew he had probably been planning something. You didn’t even try to make an effort to hide your presence; you knew there weren’t going to be consequences. For months you had been overhearing Zuko brush off the palace staff when they brought their complaints about you to him, so of course he wasn’t going to do anything. 

Tonight, you were going to look for some sort of jewelry his mother owned. When spying on the servants, you heard he kept her most precious necklace somewhere in his room. It was made of some rare stone that was only found on the palace grounds and nowhere else. Luckily for you, you were a good thief and just so happened to be short on money. That necklace was going to be yours, and all you had to do was figure out where it was. 

When you’re searching through his nightstand, you hear an inhale. It wasn’t yours. Your eyes dart to the closet where you heard it, and that’s when you see a pair of amber eyes staring back at you through the cracks of the closet door. His gaze stays on your figure, watching your every movement while he tries to decide what to do in that half-second you make eye contact.

But you’re faster.

You’ve already sprinted to the closet door, practically ripping it off its hinges. You fist up the robe he’s wearing, dragging him out in a single and swift movement. One hand automatically covers his mouth to suppress any noise, while you tackle him to the ground. You pull out a small dagger from beneath your clothes, quickly pressing the sharp blade to his throat. You stare at him from up above his body as you trap him between you, your legs and weight holding him down.

•••

Zuko hadn't had a woman on top of him in God knows how long.

Your hand was forcefully pressing down on his face so hard he could barely make a sound. You were sitting on top of him, a small knife pressed against his throat with harmful intent. Your breathing was steady and controlled, all while he was practically panting from the panic–no, the excitement. Nothing about this situation was sexy, so why was a part of him excited that the mysterious thief was sitting on him threatening him with a knife?

It’s you, he tried to mumble against your hand, but you only pressed the blade into him more forcefully. He held his hands up to make peace; he wasn’t trying to die. Not now, not after he had just discovered that your piercing gaze had him giggling on the inside. 

“Not gonna put up a fight?” you sounded like an angel from heaven. He makes an X with his arms, and you remove the knife from his throat. “I only want one thing, Prince Zuko.”

I’m the Fire Lord, was what he tried to mumble against your gloved hand. He wondered if it was soft and nice to hold. 

“You scream, and I’ll kill you. Got it?” you promised.

He was still focused on your hand. It was smaller than his; it would for sure be lovely to hold. 

But he nodded, and in return, you hesitantly lifted your hand from his mouth. 

“GUARDS—”

You had already knocked him out with the opposite end of your dagger. 

“What a fucking turd,” you mumbled to yourself as you dragged the royal piece of shit back into the closet. You had gagged and tied up Zuko after knocking him out, and now that would let you carry out your mission in peace. Luckily the guards outside his chambers either didn’t hear him, or he wasn’t loud enough, because they didn’t make a move to enter or check up on him. You were going to find that necklace and sell it off the market, and probably do the same thing a couple of months from now when you run out of money again. Only with a different piece of jewelry. 

After searching the room, practically ransacking the entire thing, you were still unable to find it. Every drawer, every surface, every nook and cranny of his stupidly large room was uselessly empty. Although you had stumbled upon other pieces of jewelry, they weren’t nearly as much as his mother’s necklace. Settling with that, you left Zuko in the closet and took off.

The next time Zuko awakened he was parched and tied up. After struggling to escape the tied rope around his wrists, he searched his room for you. Most of the jewelry he had owned was gone, except for his mother’s necklace. Something precious and rare like that had to be hidden. If hidden counts as Zuko just wearing the necklace himself and hiding it under his clothes, then it was hidden. 

•••

Zuko hates that you haven’t shown up in weeks.

He also hates that he has noticed your absent presence. 

He knows he should be happy about not seeing you. After all, you are a thief and all you were doing was stealing precious valuables from him and the palace. Yet somehow he was beginning to find himself watching his windows at night, and at some point, he had become desperate enough to leave them unlocked throughout the night in hopes you’d visit.

You still didn’t. 

Although he hadn’t known you that long or that well, he had understood why you were doing what you were doing. After having to be on his own for a bit in his teenage years, he was able to realize the reality of what you were doing. He had assumed you felt the same way as him in his youth: lost and angry and desperate. Perhaps you had a family to feed. Perhaps it was just you. Perhaps you were just trying to survive, and this was the only way you knew how to do it.

Fortunately for him, his questionable rising feelings for you were ripped from his heart when he heard the news of why you had been gone for so long.

“She was seen harassing some girls by the river.” he had been told.

“She was jailed for a couple of nights for assaulting a group of men in a bar.”

“Not only was she stealing from you, but she has begun stealing from our citizens.”

“The people are scared, Zuko. She is a terror to our towns.”

Zuko knew you weren’t the greatest person to ever exist, but he didn’t expect you to go around assaulting people.

Harassing a group of girls? Stealing from innocent citizens? You were far from kind, and now that it was affecting people besides himself, he knew he had to do something. His people were in danger, and he wasn’t going to let some petty thief get away with assault and battery. He had to do something. His hand automatically came up to touch his mother’s necklace around his neck, knowing the fastest way to get you to come back would be to use that necklace. To sacrifice it.

•••

Sitting quietly on a tree branch as you munch on stolen bread, your gaze follows Zuko, who is pacing back and forth in his room. You knew you hadn’t been on your best game lately. More people were seeing you and there were growing numbers of your wanted posters each day. But you were growing desperate for money. You were aware that Zuko knew; how could he not? But he wouldn’t understand why you were doing all of this. While you’re busy watching his moves, you notice a shiny glint of a certain stone sitting on his chest. 

His mother’s necklace. 

Of course! You couldn’t find it anywhere in his room because he had been wearing it this entire time. You quickly decide tonight would be the night you’d sneak in to steal his necklace. But how? If he was wearing it the entire time, he would for sure wake up in the midst of you removing it from his body. You could probably knock him out first. Given that he was easy to knock out the first time, the second time shouldn’t be too hard. You bested him before; you could do it again.

After dropping down from the trees, climbing some bushes, and making your way up through walls and vines, you had managed to get to his window. 

It was unlocked.

Odd, since it was usually shut tight and locked. But it was unlocked and open and so easy to climb through. Zuko looks asleep, but he could be pretending to be. Was he trying to bait you? Get you to come in because guards were hiding and ready to ambush you? You hadn’t heard or seen anything, and since you had been watching him for a couple of hours, you hadn’t noticed anything. Shrugging, you decide to climb through anyway. You’d be able to fight back. Probably.

You silently land on his rug, walking over to him and standing over his body. His mother’s necklace sat around his neck, the moonlight shining on the precious stone and highlighting it in a beautiful glint. You watch him for a second, and this is the first time you get to look at him up close. 

His skin is practically flawless—perfect, even. The soft locks so perfectly frame his face shape and his jawline is so chiseled it could probably cut through ice and—

“Admiring my beauty?” his eyes slightly open, staring up at you.

You panic, rushing to grab your dagger from your side and practically climbing on top of him on his bed. In a split second he’s beneath you, your dagger to his throat once again.

“It’s you again,” he began, his hands at his side as if there wasn’t a whole ass dagger against his throat. “I was beginning to wonder where you had been. I missed you breaking into my room.”

“You look like you enjoy being threatened with a knife.” you spat out with a sly smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I hate it.” he teases, making no effort to resist you.

You press the blade to his throat once more, this time with much more force, and you hear his breath hitch. You weren’t actually planning on killing him; the cleanup would be far too messy. You just wanted to scare him, but he was looking more turned on than he was afraid.

“Do it again,” he tells you. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

“Making jokes when you’re the one in danger? That’s not very smart of you.” 

“I’m in danger? Oh, please. Don’t be ridiculous.” he grabs your leg from under, quickly turning the tables as he forces your body to his bed. You find yourself in his position, looking at him. He watches you from above, his long hair barely covering his face. His hands effortlessly pin yours above your head as you struggle against him. He’s pushed aside your legs so he’s fit snug between you and you can’t help but look down. God, what would the guards think if they walked in right now? You toss and turn against his silk sheets as he continues to stare you down, his gaze arrogant and inviting. Stealing your dagger, he tips your chin upwards with the end of it. He leans in closer, his body heat radiating off of him and his chest is practically pressed up against yours.

“So you could overpower me this whole time and only choose to do it now?” you question him. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

“It joys me to be looking at you on top of me. But the view of you beneath me isn’t too bad either.” his voice is dangerously sweet and if you weren’t trying to steal from him you’d probably try to fuck him instead. With his body on top of yours and with his hips pressed against your own, your mind was beginning to cloud with the thought of taking his pants off instead of that dumb necklace.

“Is that so?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

“Turns me on.” he still has your knife on your chin.

“I figured you’d be a freak. Makes me wonder what other weird shit you’re into.”

“You could come and find out.”

“For a price I could.”

“I thought you were a thief; not a prostitute.”

“And I thought you were supposed to be good at fighting. Why have I bested you?”

“That’s simply because I let you.” 

You scoff. What the hell was up with this guy? “I bet you don’t even know how to use that. Put it down before you cut my precious face.”

“Oh, I would never do anything to hurt your beautiful face.” he lightly drags the knife against your skin, slowly and teasingly. 

“Having fun?” you tease, but you feel yourself swallow anxiously.

“Very much so. I know what you’re here for.” you watch Zuko as he continues to trace your skin with your own dagger. His eyes aren’t looking into yours, but are taking in your body.

“Alright, let’s make this easy then. Give me your necklace and I’ll leave,” you tell him. You were starting to grow more nervous the more he traced your skin with your dagger. Strangely though, you almost liked it. The sensation of the cold sharp metal against your skin was sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Have you seen your wanted posters? They’re all over the place.” he ignores your demand with a question.

“They could have drawn me better, but they’ll do.”

“It would appear no piece of art could capture your beauty so well. Looking at you up close and personal, those posters don’t do you any justice.” Zuko leans down, his mouth almost against yours, eyes droopy as he stares at your lips. 

You swallow nervously. Being trapped beneath him had you feeling anxious, but somewhere deep down excited. The way he was looking at you right now was definitely not the way you’d be looking at some criminal. He was staring at you like he was about to kiss you. 

You shakily exhale against his cheek, and he laughs lightly. Did you have asthma or something? Why were you breathing so heavily? You dare to look into his eyes, and it looks like a fire has been ignited in them. He moves his head so that his mouth is practically on your neck. You tense and shudder at the feeling of his hot breath against your bare skin.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers and his other hand moves to dangle his necklace in front of your face.

“Isn’t that what I just asked for?” you answer sarcastically. Being in close proximity to him was messing with your mind and body.

His robe is lazily draped around his body and his necklace dangles teasingly from his neck. Looking further down his body, you watch his broad chest heave as he teases you.

“It’s going to cost you.”

“You know I don’t have money.”

“It’s not money that I want.”

“What is it, then?”

Zuko smirks, and watching him has you feeling suspicious. Where was he going with this? Shouldn’t he be calling his guards in? You were wanted, and here he was sitting on top of you teasing you with your own knife? 

“Kiss me.” he finally tells you. His voice contrasts his expression; he speaks softly, gently.

“Are you fucking crazy? No.”

“I’m the one with the knife.”

“That all you got? Use it then.” you scoff.

Zuko hesitates, considering your statement. “Wouldn’t it be so sad to get stabbed with your own knife?” he smiles sadistically, and before you know it, he’s no longer on top of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as he grabs your hand and pins it to the wall above his bed, your dagger coming down about to stab your hand to the wall. 

You react quickly, dodging the stab and tackling him to the bed. Knocking the weapon from his hands, it falls to the floor louder than you thought it would. The heavy metal is obnoxiously loud in the silence of his room, and you both pause when you hear a guard from outside his room. 

“Are you alright, your majesty?” it’s one of the guards.

You panic once again, leaning down and pressing your lips against his to shut him up. If Zuko yelled that you were in here, you’d be thrown in jail again. You could handle fighting Zuko, but you probably couldn’t handle it if all his guards came in to fight you. 

He stills for a second against your lips, surprised you’re kissing him when just a few seconds ago he was aiming to stab your hand and pin it to the wall like a poster. But he knows you’re just doing it to shut him up, so he pulls away. Or at least, he tries to. But you’re pinning his hands above his head and holding his legs down with yours. 

Zuko struggles against your lips, trying to ignore the fact that you’re a good kisser and it’s distracting him from trying to get away from you. He should be pulling away from you; not pushing into you. When he comes to his senses, he manages to break free and scream.

“She’s here! The thief is here!”

•••

When you awaken, you see that you’ve been placed in a dark and dirty wet jail cell. You look up to see Zuko, standing on the other side of the bars, his hands holding on to the cell door as he stares down at you. You notice a glint of metal peaking out from the pocket of his pants. The keys.

“You’re a good kisser, I’ll give you that.” 

You ignore him. “What am I doing here?” Looking up at him makes you feel inferior, so you stand up, walking to where he is on the other side.

“Did you forget you’re a criminal? You’ve harassed two young girls by the river, assaulted four men at a bar, and stole from six houses in the area.” he lectures you. “You’re a menace to the town and you’re frightening my people. At first, I didn’t mind you stealing from me, but you’re going after innocent people now, and I will not stand by and let that happen,” he tells you, his voice high and authoritative. 

You scoff, did this guy even bother to investigate? “I was telling those girls by the river to fuck off or jump in because they were bullying a girl their age earlier in an alleyway and I saw. I beat the shit out of those men at the bar because they were trying to drug someone’s drink and nobody saw but me. Those six houses I stole from were just their homes. I may be a thief, but I’m not some crazy criminal that goes after innocent people.”

He looks taken aback, his knuckles turning white from gripping the cell bars too tightly. He stares at you, dumbfounded. 

“Even so,” he starts. “You can’t take matters into your own hands. We have law enforcement for that. You should’ve reported it. Why did you get involved?”

“Your police officers are trash. That shit show of a place is my home neighborhood, and your uptight officers don’t want to bother policing around because it’s poor. No one else is going to do something, so I did.” you tell him. Not that Zuko needed to know much about your shitty and poor upbringing. He wouldn’t understand anyways; he grew up in a fucking palace. 

“I’m working on that.”

“Not fast enough, clearly. If you’re not going to fix the problem of crime, then I will.”

“You can’t fight fire with fire.”

“Well I did and it worked. You wouldn’t know; you’re just a spoiled prince born into the royal family. You don’t know shit about struggle.”

It was like a slap to his face. “You don’t know me,” he snaps, his jaw tightening.

Looks like you've hit a nerve. If Zuko wasn’t pissed earlier, he was definitely pissed off now. You couldn’t understand him at all. First, he stares at you like he wants to fuck you, then he tries to drive a dagger through your hand, then he’s complimenting the way you kiss him, and now he’s looking at you like he’s going to keep you locked up forever. 

This man was attracted to you. 

And he had no idea how to deal with it.

A smile dances on your lips, feeling cocky and confident you’ve figured him out. He wants you, but he hates you. He hates what you’ve done, but he can’t help but be attracted to you. 

“You want me,” you begin, your hand forcefully grabbing the collar of his shirt. You eye his chest; his mother’s necklace is gone. “And you hate it.” you figured maybe you could use the fact that he wanted you to get out of jail. Maybe, just maybe, if you seduced him successfully, he’ll let you go. It was either that or violence.

“What the hell are you doing?” he rasps. His eyes search for yours in the dark in a panic. He is unsure of what to do, unsure of how to react, unsure of what to say. “Why the hell would I want you? You’re a criminal,” he says in disgust. “A thief,” he continues. 

“I just told you why I did those things. Can’t you let it go just this once?” you peer up at him, tilting your chin towards him. Your lips hover over his, and if it weren’t for the stupid metal bars between the two of you, you’d have hugged him. You hoped your shit way of seducing him was working at least a little.

Zuko’s eyes draw together in irritation. He was struggling to breathe, the close proximity throwing him off. It was dark, moody, and he could barely make out your face but even so, he was unable to tear his gaze from yours. He wasn’t sure if you were actually feeling him, and his gut told him you were just some filthy liar, but he couldn’t help but begin to feel bad for you. After hearing your explanation for your questionable actions, he was starting to feel that maybe you weren’t just some menacing thief the town made you out to be.

He ignores your question. “You can’t take my necklace this way,” he tells you, wondering if you were pulling this close to try and snatch it from his neck.

“I noticed you’re not wearing it,” you reply, wondering what more you might need to do to get him to slightly lean into you a bit more. “Please, Zuko.” you plead. “I have a younger brother to feed.” a total fucking lie.

His face leans closer to yours between the bars, and when you see in his eyes he’s let his guard down, you make your move. The keys are in one of your hands and the other punches him straight in his face, knocking him down. His body unconsciously slides down the bars as you quickly move to unlock the jail cell door. When you step out, your eye catches the shimmering glint of a stone on the ground. His mother’s necklace had fallen out of his other pocket.

“Fucking idiot.”

•••

She’s a filthy liar.

She’s a filthy liar.

She’s a filthy liar.

Zuko told himself that over and over like it was some sort of mantra. He thought that if he said it enough times, he’d eventually believe it. He had been absolutely humiliated by you. He was in utter shock that he let you seduce him, feel guilty for jailing you, feel bad for your supposed horrible life, and knock him out to escape jail. 

While he had to begrudgingly admit that you outsmarted him, at least he got you to stop your crimes. It was almost as if you didn’t exist at all. You had disappeared from the Fire Nation completely, nowhere to be seen in nearby towns or cities. When he sent out a search party, they had come back to him with news of your where your home was. 

“Burn it down,” he had told his men. “Burn it all down. That’ll get her to come out and give me my necklace back.”

“Are you sure? What about the people?” they were unsure.

“Stage it as an accident. And make sure there is nobody nearby. She took the most valuable thing from me, so I will simply do the same.” he could have totally gone after your brother, but he wasn’t a murderer.

God, Zuko was such a genius for that! You would for sure come marching back into his chambers demanding answers if he showed you that he meant business. And maybe you’d threaten him with a knife again.

God, Zuko was such an idiot for that.

He wondered if you were causing chaos in other places, but if you were, he would have been informed of it. He was unsure how you were living your life until he went back to his chambers that night.

Now that you had stolen his mother’s necklace, Zuko guessed you probably broke it up to sell it in pieces and were probably living quietly off of that money. But if that were true, then it was only a matter of time before you ran out of the money and were going to strike again. He debated if he wanted to send out a search party of his own to capture you, but he didn’t want his citizens to fear you again.

Instead, he merely sent out a search party to figure out your location. You were currently residing with a couple of farmers in the countryside, living quietly as you worked for them in the fields. He thought it was odd that you were working; after all, his mother’s necklace was worth thousands, so you could definitely live off of that for a while. It had only been half a year since he’s last seen you, so realistically maybe you did run out of money. 

He wanted to know what you did with his mother’s necklace. Where you sold it, who you sold it to, and when. That was one of the few items he had left of his mother, so he had held onto it like a child holding onto their favorite stuffed toy. And you had ripped it out of his hands like an angry parent. Zuko wanted to keep the whole situation under wraps, so instead of visiting you in person, he figured he’d do it some other way.

•••

“Lin, you have a letter.” one of the farmers handed you an envelope. You had taken a job under a fake name for some random people in the countryside after stealing Zuko’s necklace and running away. After coming back to your house burned down, you had no other choice but to leave. Sitting on some hay bales in the sheds, you tear open the envelope.

I want my mother’s necklace back. Send back with messenger.

Zuko

You scoff. Was Zuko that much of a coward he couldn’t show up in person and demand things with his own voice? He really had to send a whole letter and waste paper? When you didn’t respond, another letter came two weeks later.

I know you didn’t sell it. If you did, you wouldn’t be working for these farmers.

Zuko

and I know you don’t have a younger brother.

So Zuko was watching you, or at least he was having someone do the watching for him. But he was right about you not selling his mother’s necklace. You had stolen it in hopes of making some money off it by selling it on the black market, but after inspecting it further you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

It was something small and insignificant, but you could tell it meant everything to him. There was an engraving on the back of the stone, possibly hand carved by his mother. For My Zuko. You didn’t know much about the royal family, but you did know Zuko very much cared for her. Inspecting the necklace in detail reminded you of your own mother who had disappeared when you were younger. You hadn’t seen her since she disappeared without a trace, as Zuko’s mother did. Although she had left you, prior to that she was loving and caring and did her best to raise you as a single mother. 

You hated how his mother’s necklace made you think of your own. It opened a floodgate of emotions you didn’t have time to deal with. As weak as it made you, you didn’t have the heart to sell it. If anything, you were just going to give it back and move on with your life. But when Zuko sent word asking for it back, you knew what would happen if you did.

You’d give him back the necklace and in return, ask to be pardoned for your crimes. He’d probably oblige, and that would be the end of it. You would go back to being a petty thief and he would go back to ruling the Fire Nation. And the two of you would never interact again.

Something about the thought of Zuko no longer chasing after you had you hesitating to give the necklace back. Something about Zuko not being completely afraid of you had you hesitating. Something about Zuko being more intrigued than terrified of you had you hesitating. 

You hated it. You hated how he tugged at your heart strings and had you stopping in your tracks and thinking of ways to get him to keep reaching out to you. To keep chasing you. 

When you replied to his first two letters with silence, he sent another one a week later.

I apologize for the inconvenience I might have caused you by burning down your house. I didn’t realize that shed made of rotten wood was actually a home to you. Please accept the gold coins included to get you by.

Zuko

Shed? That shed?! Zuko was the one who burned your home down when you thought there was some sort of accident? If Zuko was trying to piss you off, it was working. Your blood was boiling and you felt your rage rising in your blood and all you wanted to do in the moment was hunt him down and punch him square in the nose for doing that to you. Although it wasn’t much, it gave you shelter and kept you dry and warm. You were grateful for it; besides, some people had it worse.

You continued to stay on the farm under a fake name, trying to get by as you planned your next move (you did not have another move) when you received another letter.

The gold coins were for you, not my messenger. Feel free to use them. There is no catch, in case that is what you are thinking. And you do not owe me anything in return except my mother’s necklace. 

Zuko

“Got a lover?” the farmer asked as he watched you read the letter.

“No,” the word escaped your mouth too quickly than it should have.

“Friend?”

“Not really.”

“Family member?”

“Nope.”

“Then?”

You paused. You weren’t sure what Zuko was. A lover? Not quite. Besides being on top of him an odd number of times in a short period of time and kissing him, the two of you weren’t in love. Enemies? You did knock him out and he tried to stab a hole through your hand and he did threaten you with a knife and throw you in jail and burn down your house, but—

“Ah, I see it’s complicated,” he told you, his eyes on yours.

Over a couple of weeks, you began to receive more letters from Zuko. Each one grew more desperate than the previous.

It gets quiet here around the palace now that you are gone. It is far too peaceful and I am beginning to crave the chaos you previously brought to my life. I wouldn’t mind if you reintroduced that chaos again.

Forget the necklace for now. Write me back.

Zuko

•••

In case you did not receive my previous letter, I am writing a new one. Your wanted posters have been taken down from the city, and like I told you, they do not do you justice. Perhaps a visit from you and we can redo the posters. Not to hang up again, but only so that I do not begin to think you are a horrendous hag as they make you out to be. You are completely the opposite.

Zuko

•••

I apologize if my previous letter offended you. I do not have a way with words. I only meant to compliment your beauty. Unfortunately, I am unable to describe it with words, so I apologize for not being a poet. The only thing I can think of is how you make me feel when you are trying to kill me with that dagger of yours. My heart stops and my gaze can only follow your actions. It is dangerous. You are dangerous. But I like it. And I miss it.

Zuko

•••

I do not know how many letters I have sent you. Normally I write them during the day because writing them at night makes me feel unnecessary emotions related to my longing for you. Please respond to at least one. I am getting desperate. So desperate I woke up in the middle of the night to write this one. The moonlight is shining through the window as I write this, and the only thing I can think of is how the moonlight highlights your beauty and how your sharp gaze pierces through my soul every time I gaze into the warm universe that is your eyes.

Please forget about the necklace entirely. I do not need its return. I only need yours.

Zuko

•••

Zuko is a light sleeper. Any sort of noise, whether it is a footstep or a gust of wind, he can and will wake up. It’s a footstep. His eyes twitch open in annoyance. Why are they opening his window? He had specifically told the servants to stay out of his chambers when he goes to bed, so why are they opening his windows? It’s far too cold and he didn’t need any fresh air–

There are no servants.

Zuko’s body jerks to life, abruptly sitting up and rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. Across from his bed is his window being forced open, a loud gust of wind interrupting him. There is a figure at the window, barely crawling in. Struggling to make it through the entrance, he watches the practically lifeless body stumble through onto his floor before he steps out of bed in a panic.

It’s you.

You’re hunched over on the floor, hand gripping your stomach as blood seeps through your fingers.

“What–” he barely has time to talk as he’s rushing over to you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly as he brings you over to his bed and lies you down. Hurriedly, he shrugs off his robe and presses it down over your stomach. He’s shirtless now, basically naked, but that doesn’t matter. But he did see you look him up and down. “What are you doing here?” he presses down on your wound to apply pressure.

“I–I didn’t know where else to go.” you managed to let out through clenched teeth.

“Who did this to you?” Zuko demanded, his tone of voice high and authoritative. 

“I’m fucking bleeding out and you’re asking me that?”

“Put pressure on this. I’ll call my doctor–stay here.”

After rushing out of his personal chambers to wake his doctor up in the middle of the night, he waited outside as they worked on you. It was a fresh stab wound. It wasn’t too deep and didn’t hit any vital organs, but you’d still be in pain when you woke up.

When you wake up, you instantly feel the pain from your stab wound. Your hand automatically moves to your stomach only to feel you’ve been wrapped up in bandages. Blinking, you sit up. A fire is going across the room, it is warm and cozy as opposed to the other nights you’ve spent in here. The other times you’ve been here have been cold and empty, but now it is the opposite. 

“Tea?” Zuko suddenly speaks up from the other side of the room. He crosses the floor and hands you a mug. “It’s jasmine.”

Taking a sip, you feel the hot liquid soothe your dry throat. “It’s nice to wake up in a bed rather than a wet jail cell.”

“You wouldn’t have been in that jail cell had you not assaulted me,” he slightly jokes, sitting across from you on the edge of the bed. 

He looks rugged, and tired, almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping. He gazes at you, his eyes softened as he watches your movements. He almost looks worried.

“So I suppose I’ll be going back to jail after you let me rest up a bit?”

He ignores your question, only choosing to tug his blanket further up your body in an attempt to warm you up. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

“I did.”

“You didn’t reply to any of them.”

“I didn’t know what to say.” A moment of silence fills the room, and you feel the need to fill it by continuing to speak. “I didn’t sell your mother’s necklace. I still have it.”

“You do?” his eyes light up, hopeful.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Why’s that?” he ponders as you reach into your pocket to hand the precious jewelry back to its rightful owner.

“Reminded me of my own mother.” you don’t elaborate further. 

Zuko seems to sense this because he sets the matter aside with a small and quick nod, opting to watch you instead.

“Here,” you pull the necklace out from your pockets with a trembling hand and reach to hand it to him.

He notices your trembling hand, choosing to close his own hands around yours instead of taking the necklace. His hands feel like a warm embrace that engulf you in safety and warmth.

“Thank you,” he says as he sets the necklace down beside him. “But I’m more worried about you now.”

“After I stole from you and assaulted you?”

“It would seem I’m into women who can kill me.”

He looks up at you through his curled lashes, the soft locks of his hair caressing his face as he stares into your eyes, holding your gaze. “What happened to you?” he whispers gently, leaning closer to you.

It’s intimate, really. He’s in such close proximity it makes your heart beat with anxiety the closer he gets. You’d never noticed this before, but Zuko truly holds such a soft beauty to him it’s hard to look away. 

“One of those guys at the bar I beat up. Found me walking on the street alone.” you explain.

“You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at night.”

You scoff. “Please, you should’ve seen what I did to him.”

“He stabbed you.”

“I stabbed him back. And at least all my bones are nice and intact. His, however, are not.”

A crooked smile spreads across his face. “Impressive.”

There’s an awkward silence and suddenly your mind goes back to the letters that he sent you. Each one grew more desperate the more time that passed and the more you ignored him. You recall each one practically confessing his feelings for you. 

Why though? How could Zuko even fall for you? After all you did to him: the stealing and thieving, the assaulting, everything. Yet he confessed through his letters, and you were sure he was about to confess again right now.

“Those letters,” you begin before he can even say anything. “Did you mean what you said in them?” 

“Every word.” he confirms. “You don’t believe me?”

“After all I’ve done to you, it’s hard to.”

“You can consider yourself pardoned for your crimes. Happy?” he offers.

“That’s perfect, actually. I was going to dangle your mother’s necklace in front of you and demand to be pardoned.”

“It’s too bad you got stabbed before having the chance to do so.”

“Still hard to believe your feelings though, I’ll admit.” you tell him.

A pause. Then, “Why don’t I show you then?”

The question hangs in the air. The air that’s slowly been filling with the unspoken sexual tension building between you both since you woke up. 

“Alright, prove it to me then.”

Zuko simply smiles in response before his lips are on yours. Despite what you thought, his kiss is gentle and you find yourself melting into it. You relax into his touch, into the fingers that find your hair to gently stroke the back of your head with such tender love and care. 

You’re out of breath quickly as he pulls away, his lips meeting the hot skin of your neck. You lean back slowly, trying to be mindful of your fresh stab wound. 

“Careful now,” he whispers against your neck and you shudder. “Lie down.” 

He guides your body so that you are comfortably laying on your back and his lips are at your neck again, leaving hot kisses across your skin. His hands firmly stroke your thighs, squeezing assuredly as he continues sucking and kissing at your skin. You arch into him, wincing at the pain in your stomach before he pulls away.

“Didn’t think a couple of kisses would have you arching your back.”

“Shut up and go down on me.” you demand as you begin to wriggle out of your pants.

“A former criminal telling the Fire Lord what to do? My my, think of the gossip that would go around if word of this got out.” he teases, propping your legs up and setting his hands on your knees. 

Zuko playfully spreads your legs open with his hands, stroking the exposed skin. He leans down, leaving a kiss on your thigh. His mouth continues on your skin, leaving kisses and bite marks and you feel yourself softly moaning from his kisses. Your hips slightly jerk up, and in response he gently holds you down with his hands. 

Pulling away from your thighs, he runs an experimental lick into your slit, and you feel yourself tremble in arousal. He holds your thighs open as you tense around him, yanking his hair to pull him further into you. You feel him softly laugh in response before he opens his mouth. He slowly and teasingly drags his tongue up your pussy, eliciting a moan from your lips. You gasp when you feel him sucking on your clit, expertly working on it as he gently sucks on it. 

You yank on his hair again, and you both moan at the sensation of pleasure running through your veins. You feel yourself heating up as your hips hump his face and his tongue drags up and down your pussy. You feel yourself throbbing, sweat beading at your forehead as he allows you to practically ride his face and pull on his hair. 

Something about Zuko letting you have your way with him has you throbbing and tightening around nothing. You whimper breathlessly and you feel him smile in response. He pulls away only for a second to blow cold air against your throbbing pussy, and you feel yourself shudder at the sensitivity. 

“Pull away again and I’ll give you a matching stab wound.” you threaten, yanking his hair again to drag him to where he belongs. 

“You’re lucky I’m into this.” he chuckles as he gives into your demand, tongue going back to your clit. 

You feel his fingers creep up to your slit, teasingly rubbing at your entrance before he slips a finger in. It slips in instantly, your slick wetness coating his finger as he moves it further into you. Your legs wrap around his neck and while he may or may not be able to breathe, you’re not worried about that. He’ll find a way. You enjoy his finger working you with his tongue in your clit, but you need more.

“More.” you demand.

“More of what?” he pulls away and stares at you from between your legs. 

“Your fingers.”

“So greedy you are.” he complains, but obliges anyway. 

You feel him insert two more fingers and you find yourself riding both his face and his fingers. You let out a moan of pleasure, your chest heaving as you ride closer to your high. You can feel Zuko squirming in his pants and you’re sure he might be uncomfortable, but in this moment you’re only worried about your own pleasure and it would seem he feels the same way. 

“F-Fuck,” you stutter, your hands fisting his bed sheets. 

“Careful, that’s silk.” he warns you against your pussy.

“Shut up and keep sucking.” you yank him back and he continues.

You continue to rock your hips up into his face as he fingers your slick pussy, fucking you harder and faster as your moans grow more desperate and your hips begin to clumsily rock against his face. He sucks at your clit and adds another finger and that’s when you feel yourself spill over the edge, shuttering and shaking against him as he helps you through your orgasm, fingers slowly helping you through it.

When you’ve come down from your high, he sits up, a visible boner against his robes. “Did you think we were done?” he smirks, wiping his face with the back of his hand and leaning in for another kiss.

•••

a/n: it’s my one year anniversary of writing on this blog! my next zuko story will not be him as fire lord i’ve written too many fics w him as fire lord, so i’ll switch it up in my next one <3

also nanami from jjk is next if anyone cares (ik i said i’d post levi after but he can wait lmao)

m.list

[christinarowie332]

god i love you

chris sturniolo x reader

matt sturniolo x oc

sturniolo triplets x reader

warnings : smutty smut !!! mentions of weed and nicotine, 18+ . profanity

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reader , maggie, and the triplets have a beach day

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i dig my feet deeper in the sand , feeling the warmth hug my body and the soft grains scratch my bare skin. with my fingers sprawled out over the blanket i throw my head back in comfort , feeling the warm sun kiss my face as i lean back .

the sounds of a faint mac miller song humming in the background flood my ears .waves crashing to the shore , painting the sand white with its foam . i can hear chris giggling with matt and nick desperately trying to explain himself with whatever waffle he’s spewing at this moment. mags , my bestfriend, matt’s girlfriend, just sat playing with his hair laughing with them.

in my own world , i open my eyes finally, take a puff of my vape and grab my phone from my lap . opening the camera app and snapping a photo of the scene infront of me . a clear blue sky , my four best friends, boyfriend included , all laughing , their hair being plastered across their face ; brunette and blonde waving along with the wind .

i subconsciously decide to get up and immediately strip out of my oversized t-shirt i stole from chris . a black two peice caressing my curves and hugging my waist .

“chris” i call out to him throwing the t-shirt on the blanket we all sit on , large volcanic rocks holding down the corners . ”can i have my bobble babe?”

“uh yeah of course” he says after trailing his eyes down my body , before going into his joint tin and grabbing the bobble .he keeps it for me along with two joints , a lighter , a chewing gum and a polaroid of us together in matching fresh love , laughing while we jokingly do the doggy style position . his favorite photo for obvious reasons .

maggie gets where i’m going with this and mirrors my actions from before , stripping off and putting her hair in a clip , kicking her slides off and throwing her vape and phone down on the blanket .

“woah what’s happening ? i feel like i’m about to get a lap dance or some shit” nick exclaims , fake fear plastered on his face and also getting up .

“we have been at the beach for like an hour and haven’t gone in the sea ? let’s go.” i explain , chris is on his feet taking his shirt off in what feels like a millisecond. matt follows and helps nick up .

“last one in has to buy the bud next !!!” maggie screams before darting off towards the sea , me in tow and chris and matt speeding past us .

“NOT FAIR BRO” nick screams as he starts running throwing his shirt over his head while running and trying to kick off his slides while in motion .

we all run towards the sea , chris ends up falling over face first into the soft sand . i subconsciously stop and help him up , watching him lift his face up , showing his mouth full of sand and eyes closed , mouth agape laughing in shock . i loudly laugh and grab his hand pulling him up running towards the sea again . we run hand in hand still laughing , as we watch nick pass us and matt and maggie absolutely get obliterated by a wave as the meet the sea . nick makes it next and finally stops and sees his brother , covered it sand , struggling to run while laughing and spitting out sand .

me and chris make it to the sea ,both of us mermaid style diving into the sea as soon as we thought it was deep enough .

i plunge into the water , feeling bubbles trail my face and make their way to the surface, before the head reaches the warm air , hair slicked back and salty water running down my neck .

“HOW THE FUCK DID U FALL SO BADLY”

“YOU LITERALLY ATE SAND CHRIS!”

“BAHAHAHA BRO ITS ON YOUR TEETH”

we all take a second to laugh at chris and he just wipes the sand and salt from his eyes while laughing , his shoulders jumping up and down with the movement.

chris swims over to me and hugs me from behind putting his head on my shoulder . we’re not a very affectionate cutesy couple , a specially infront of his brothers , and maggie who is basically my sister . this is very evident when i turn around in chris’s hold smiling . he melted as i put both my arms around his shoulders, interlining my fingers around his neck .

“breathe” i said smiling at him. resulting in his face dropping and confusion being painted on his face . he does as i say anyway tilting his head , before i put both my hands on his shoulders and push him under the water .

i start laughing but quickly get cut off as i feel his hands grip my legs and i am also pulled under the water . we fight under the current of the waves . i emerge from the water first , and watch chris gasp for air as he surfaces. we all laugh and start relaxing in the water .

“i wonder why the beach is so empty today?” matt asks , looking at said beach , maggie narrows her eyes to where her boyfriend is looking before speaking

“probably sharks or something” she says nonchalantly, before furrowing her eyebrows and realizing that’s not so much of a reach .

“your just gonna scare yourself mags” nick says through giggles , looking at the girl slowly move towards matt for safety .

“nah everyone’s at work and school , we have no life bro we’re the only weirdos that don’t have a job” i say before angling my head back in the water , slicking my hair back again , feeling the cold water make its way onto my forehead .

“nah we have a job , just not a boring one . content creators bro . we get paid to hangout” chris says before moving his hand around my waist under the water , pulling us closer . i smile and him and put one of my hands on the back of his neck , playing with his now wet hair .

“i wonder how deep it is here” nick says , looking down into the dark swirling water , squinting his eyes , before meeting mine and raising his eyebrows , knowing i would be the only one to go to the bottom and see .

i took a breath and used chris’s body to lower myself into the water slowly, coming back up and diving down . i squint my eyes underwater and reach the floor , not too deep , watching the clean sand rippling under our feet

while swimming back up i see a blurred chris , and decide to scare the shit out of him and smack his ass under the water , i see him jump slightly, but he finds me and drags me up by my neck gently until moving his hands to my waist and bringing me to surface . i giggle under water , bubbles following my trail upwards before meeting them all and laughing before moving to chris’s back and holding his shoulders to hold me up .

“fully thought that was a fish for a good second” chris says looking back at me to meet my goofy smile .

“how do u open your eyes in the sea bro , my eyes sting just being here” matt days to me while rubbing his eye like a child , fist curled rubbing over his eye in circles.

“i literally feel like i just pored pure salt in my eye , that was a big mistake” i say laughing , rubbing my eyes like matt just was .

maggie lies down on top of the water , matt holds her and runs his hand through her hair .

we stay like that for a while . chris and i giving each other small affectionate touches , laughing and talking with nick. matt and maggie in their own little world .

“dude , do u know when u were younger did u ever like , when u were like seven like i used to like ….. no probably older then that just like i thought i was like really good at swimming and i was like kinda okay but like really i was…..” chris explains , making the entire group stare at him in confusion, before looking at each other , trying to see if anyone understands a word he’s saying .

“like i was pretty really okay but like when i would swim i like was good ….. WOW”

we all erupted into laughter at chris , him immediately getting embarrassed but also laughing, pulling me closer again and placing a small kiss to my forehead ,turning me around to hug me from behind .

“i’m gonna go back i’m freezing and i want my vape” maggie says before doggy paddling away , causing me and chris to giggle

“i’ll come too” matt says grabbing onto her legs and pulling him closer to her

“me too , i feel like i’m gonna get a cold this water is fucking freezing” nick says following behind matt and maggie , leaving me and chris in the water .

“i’m staying , i wanna chill in here longer” chris says looking towards me and smiling

i hum in agreement and swim towards him , wrapping my legs around his waist and putting my arms around his neck .

“hi” he says smiling leaning towards me .

his lips meet mine , the taste of salt lingering in my mouth as i kiss him , the cut on my lip stings but i barely feel it , relishing in chris’s hand moving up and down my thigh .

i pull away “hi” i say before placing another peck on his lips quickly. i put my palm flat on his back to stabilise myself while i run my hand through his hair , pushing his dark curls away from his face .

i put both my hands on the back of his neck and pull him towards me , attaching my lips onto his once again , one of his hands moves to my ass , lifting and squeezing it in one motion , causing me to gasp slightly and open my lips giving his tongue access to mine.

i move my hips on his , causing him to moan slightly into the kiss . i could feel him growing , my core pressed against his , grinding against him .

“chris” i moaned out , digging my painted nails into his back , clawing his shoulders leaving red lines over his muscles.

he grabbed my hand and put my palm over his hardened dick , looking into my eyes saying exactly what i needed to hear .

he pulled his shorts down , then pulled my bikini bottoms down , raising his eyebrows to get my consent he needed .

a nod of my head is all he needed , before lifting me onto him , throwing his head back in pleasure. my face burrows into his neck biting down at the feeling of him inside , leaving a mark where my mouth had been.

we moved together under water , him lifting me , me rolling my hips to the pattern i knew he liked after lots of practice over the year , moaning each other names through sloppy kisses .

after a couple of minutes we both can feel the knot slowly unraveling , thrusts getting sloppy and messy .

“y/n” he whimpered out before getting cut off by me loudly moaning into his neck

“i know chris , me too” i said before clenching around him and moaning loudly against his skin , throwing my head back in pleasure before feeling him release into me .

we both laugh and kiss each other messily , coming down from our high together .

“god i love you y/n” chris says out of breath into my neck as we both embrace each other , him still inside of me under the salty waves .

“i love you too chris” is all i got out before re-attaching our lips in a perfectly paced kiss .

———

milkie talks :

i have had a awful amount of alcohol so i don’t even know if this makes sense .

love u all . 🍼🤍

tag list :

@mangosrar @sturnphilia @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @sssturniolofart @littlebookworm803 @lividnity @deatthmatch @daddyslilchickenfingers @parkerssecrets @urmyslxt

[monimccoythings]

Cuteness Overload

Just saw the movie. What a masterpiece. And (spoiler warning) I'm glad they did Charles Martinet justice even though I still think it should have been him voicing Mario. And of course, I'm in love with Jack Black's portrayal of bowser, excellent representation of a good creepy and psychotic villain that stole the entire movie. I loved it so much I'm writing a Y/N fic (My favorite little hoe, but this time is more on the platonic side). This contains a huge spoiler for the movie, specifically the ending. I'd recommend to watch the movie first.

Next Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5

So, a couple of weeks ago your entire neighborhood got destroyed because of some epic anime battle that just casually happened over there. How cool is that? Or how horrible, because thanks to that you just have to take the biggest detour ever known to man to get to work. But hey, at least you had a nice walk.

You getting into the mushroom kingdom was entirely by accident. Yes, you were curious about that new world but never had the time or will to go on a transdimensional travel. Thank goodness there was an open sewer hole laying there (which you completely missed) to help you take the initiative.

If you didn't took into account that nightmarish journey through the tunnels, the Mushroom Kingdom was a pretty interesting place to be. The toads were very friendly and kind fellas, some of them carefully checking you out for injuries and advising you to go see the princess in order to help you get safely home.

Okay, forget about the journey through that cosmic rabbit hole, going up to the castle was way worse. You didn't remember having exercised that much, not even in P.E. You swore your vision was blurry after all that.

Princess Peach was the most loving, kindhearted badass you had the pleasure to meet. That kind angel sent down from heaven upon seeing your miserable state, generously offer you to step in for tea and pastries, while the royal doctor (another toad but this cutie came with a stetoscope and a labcoat) made sure you didn't had seriously injured yourself with the fall.

As dignified and courteous she tried to act. It was obvious she was very excited to meet another person from Brooklyn. Soon you found yourselves engaged in conversation. It felt easy talking to her, like you were talking to an old friend. You suddenly felt very glad you didn't see that sewer hole.

Mario and Luigi stopped by as well, and the second they opened their mouths you recognised them as those two dudes from that dope ass commercial. So they were the ones that were in the middle of the battle in Brooklyn. Good for them, you were glad things turned out great.

You were having the time of your life, they were really chill and easy going people, which put you more at ease. As time passed, you heard the faint sound of a piano being played. When you asked your new friends about it, they just shrugged and Princess Peach gave you a half smile saying that it was her "pet turtle".

Whoah. This was truly a magical place. Her pet turtle played the piano?? And very well by the sound of it. Peach asked you if you wanted to see it. Of course you wanted to see it! Mario and Luigi gave each other uncertain looks, but in the end they just shrugged it off.

After a long walk through the hallways you finally reached a room. The toad guards immediately stepped away when they saw their ruler approach, but gave you a look full of suspicion. Peach softly reassured them.

She opened the door for you and let you in. The room wasn't any different from the castle except that it was completely devoid of any furniture but a single golden cage with THE TINIEST TURTLE PLAYING THE TINIEST PIANO YOU HAD EVER SEEN.

Said turtle was now looking perplexed and midly annoyed that it had been interrupted, but its eyes lighted up when they landed on Peach, who suddenly looked very done and tired. But how could you notice when its mere sight alone was too much for you to bear.

It was SO CUTE. SO DARN CUTE. Cuteness overload. You had died and were sent to adorable heaven where tiny turtles played teeny tiny pianos. You made sure to tell it that several times, making Mario burst out laughing. And it got even better from that moment, because out of that turtle mouth came the most colorful collection of threats and insults in a HIGH PITCHED voice that made your heart melt. Because of course it, he, had a high pitched voice. That only made you gush out more, you loved animals but specially you absolutely adored reptiles.

Mario was literally holding himself against the wall to keep himself from falling for laughing so hard. Luigi was cry laughing and Peach was trying to cover her face, but it was clear that from the way her shoulders rose and went down that she was practically wheezing.

You asked Peach if you could hold him for a while, to which she seriously, or at least she tried to sound serious in the middle of all that laughter, answered that it was too dangerous to let him out. But how could something as darling as that do any wrong? Peach gently pulled you out of the room, but not before you let out a "Bye bye, piano playing turtle, I love you." To a very blushing and mortified turtle.

Turns out that the turtle had comitted war crimes. Very bad war crimes. And even though he was still a little cutie to you, he got what he deserved and shouldn't be let out under any circumstances. Still, you were def going to visit him again.