#lil tiny ficlet

[shortbcofkoffee]

CW: abuse, alcoholism (very short tho)

Bruce was angry pretty often nowadays. If he wasn’t angry he was quiet and depressed, and that only happened when he was drunk. He’d lounge in random rooms in the manor with a half-empty bottle in his hand, half asleep and crying for Jason. 

Tim was used to people like that, he knew how to deal with it. When Jack drunk he became quiet and reserved. He locked himself in his study and stayed there for hours, wailing about his late wife. 

The difference between Jack and Bruce was Tim could be what Bruce needed. Inebriated, Bruce’s dizzy vision lent Tim the perfect tool. He’d call out for Jason and as long as Tim styled his hair a certain way, Bruce was none the wiser. He’d hold Tim’s face and kiss his forehead and whisper apologies. Tim could copy Jason’s voice well enough, or at least Bruce never said anything about it. The times Bruce did notice it was Tim resulted in him yelling and throwing things. He never hit Tim with his own hands, which was nice, but he rarely missed. Once he’d worked himself tired Tim could drag him to bed.

Tim doesn’t know when exactly Bruce started calling him Jason sober, but it starts to happen. He answers to it every time because otherwise Bruce would be angry. Or rather, he’d be angry either way but there was less tension when he goes along with it. Tim can’t remember the last time Bruce said his name, it’s always Robin, or Jason, or you. But he’s fine, Bruce was working through his grief while being Batman, he was stressed. Alfred calls him Timothy and that’s enough for now.

.

Tim is tired. He hasn’t slept in… he forgot how long—and his caffeine intake is at a critical low. He’s in the cave, which usually made this easier, but… he stares blankly at his screen and tries to remember how to type the next sentence. At some point, people walk in, he doesn’t know who or why, but they're arguing. He hears his name echo through the cave.

“Jason!” 

It’s Bruce. He’s angry, but not drunk angry. The type of angry he gets when Tim makes a small slip up, something inconsequential, but more than enough to punish him for. Tim runs through scenarios. He doesn’t know what he did but for something this small it’s probably just be impromptu training. Rough training where Tim would end up with a bruise from Bruce’s bo staff. He could probably deal with that right now. He spun around in his chair.

“Yeah, Bruce?”

The argument pauses and the two others look at him and Tim stares right back. He doesn’t know why Bruce isn’t answering until he gives his brain a second to process. Oh. Oh. Jason was standing right next to Bruce, holding back a snicker. He was talking to Jason. He hadn’t called Tim ‘Jason’ in years. Bruce’s eyes are wide as he stares back at Tim in shock. His jaw sets and tightens and Tim feels his body lock up. If Bruce wasn’t mad with him before he was now. Jason walks over and pokes a finger into Tim’s forehead.

“The hell was that, replacement, tryna take my name too?” He jokes. It’s a joke. Jason doesn’t know, no one knows.

Tim swats the finger away and turns his chair back around. “Sorry. Haven’t slept, thought I heard my name.”

“Yeah, we can tell.” Jason grabs Tim’s shoulder. “Go to bed, man, you’ve been awake for days.”

Tim glances over his shoulder at Bruce. He’s still staring, but now he’s scowling. His eyes dart back to Jason. “Yeah, okay.”

[alwaysurvalentine]

terrible movies - st ficlet

Based on the prompts: Movies & Fur for my 12 Days of Christmas Mini Event card for @steddiebingo | wc: 795 | cw: none

enjoy! 💛

Eddie should be arriving any minute now. Steve’s been collecting all of the blankets in his apartment for their movie night. So far he’s grabbed a couple throw blankets gifted from Mrs. Claudia and Ms. Joyce, his comforter from his bed, and the hall closet is calling to him now to see if there’s anything hidden there. A knock sounds right as he opens the hall closet so Steve grabs the blankets he sees and heads for the living room again.

“It’s open!” 

Barely a moment passes before the door swings open, bags crinkling from where they hang on Eddie’s arm.

“Hey, sweetheart!” 

Eddie grins and toes his boots off, laces already undone. Steve can see the outline of different candies in the bag, but he’s most excited for the sour gummy worms. A six pack gets set on the table and then Steve’s been tugged closer to Eddie. A kiss gets pressed to both of cheeks (a habit Eddie picked up when he heard about the infamous Mrs. Harrington greeting Steve the same way) and then finally a kiss to his lips (an Eddie-only specialty).

“What’d you bring us?”

“Just some snacks, plus the best movies I could find.” The grin on Eddie’s face turns mischievous though, backing up to show off his choices. Just by the covers alone Steve knows he’s in for a night of making fun of bad acting. 

He’s cut off from answering when the oven beeps. “Go ahead and put one of those in, I made pizza.” 

The kitchen is nice and warm when he steps in, oven heating the small space. His heating has been out for the past few days, fan running but only succeeding in pushing air around with no warmth. As soon as he’d realized, Steve called the office but with the landlord on vacation it’s a waiting game for it to be fixed. Hopefully he and Eddie will be curled up under the blankets by the time the chill settles back in the apartment. 

~

This is the second movie they’ve watched, the first one a horror movie with an ending where the killer gets away with it – Steve’s least favorite. What’s the point of having a final girl if she’s going to die in a cut to black scene? Luckily, Eddie hasn’t said anything about the cold surrounding them. On the screen, the main love interest is pulled into a desperate kiss. 

“Wait, why is she forgiving him? He literally slept with her sister? And hit on her mom?” 

Eddie tries to answer through his laughter, “Because she’s in love with him and he can do no wrong. Stop looking at me like that! I’m not the one who wrote it that way!” 

“You’re the one that brought the movie!”

“That’s just because I knew you’d get all worked up about it. You always have something to say about what the characters are doing, it’s not like people in real life act like this.” Eddie eats another handful of popcorn, kernels falling to the floor, before he sits back. 

“I think we should move on to the most important question of the night.”

Or maybe Eddie had noticed how cold the apartment was.

“What is this?” 

Or not. 

Eddie’s got a furry blanket pinched between two fingers and held out between them like it’s diseased. To be fair to him, the texture looks like a wet dog, fur stuck up in odd places and smooth in others. Steve has no idea how the blanket is in his possession. It must be one of the ones he grabbed from the closet, but after this it’ll be in the trash for sure. 

“Be honest with me,” and Eddie’s face morphs into one a little more serious, “is this from an animal?” The right corner of his mouth is twitching though, curling into a smile when Steve shakes his head quickly.

“Absolutely not! Why would I have something made from a literal animal in my house? No way. It’s just some old blanket that I didn’t realize was in the closet when I was grabbing blankets. Give it to me.” 

The blankets covering them are tangled up in their legs, but Steve still manages to get out without uncovering Eddie. He takes the blanket from Eddie’s pinched fingers and heads towards the front door. No point in putting it into the trash when he can place it here and just take it out next time he leaves. Steve drops it in a pile right below where he hangs his keys and heads back to the living room. Next time he heads out he can toss it.

Right now he’s got more important things to do, like cuddle up with his boyfriend and judge terrible script writing. 

[mortimerlatrice]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Big/Tae Taechin Lerttravinont

Characters: Big (KinnPorsche: The Series), Tae Taechin Lerttravinont

Additional Tags: Dom/sub, collaring, Day Collars, Dom Tae, sub big, it may be Dom/sub but it's all fluff, entirely self indulgent

Series: Part 1 of Blossoms

Words: 689

Summary:

Big presents Tay with a gift.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

'If you loved me, you'd let me have the last one.'  & Firstprince please lovely 💛💛

not sure how this one turned smutty ... alas that is where we are tho lolz - but in a novel for me moment i wrote smut in under 500 words

this can also be found on ao3 if you'd rather

smut under the cut!

“If you loved me, you'd let me have the last one …” Alex is cut off by Henry’s lips on his. “I think it’s just that you want to be the first to provide,” Henry says, kissing down Alex’s throat as he pushes himself up off where he rests on Alex on the sofa in their office. “I think it’s only fair, after all your dick calls to me,” he says, rolling Henry onto his side so he can run his hand along Henry’s cock through his boxers. Alex moves so Henry is underneath him on the sofa and slides his t-shirt up, placing kisses as he moves down between his legs. Henry arches up into him, and Alex knows he will get his way. He makes quick work of removing Henry’s boxers and doesn’t waste any time getting his mouth on Henry’s cock. It doesn’t take long to get him close to the edge, and Alex can tell he’s trying not to buck up into his mouth. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, and Henry is coming down his throat, a huff of a laugh slipping between his lips that still makes Alex smile all these years later. It takes a moment for Henry to catch his breath, but he soon has Alex on his back, boxers tossed to the floor and working him toward orgasm. Alex knows it won’t take long, knows he could have come earlier with a bit of rutting against the sofa. While he’s done that many times, he knows that he needs to feel the heat of Henry’s mouth around him this time. Wants to feel the way Henry is now hollowing his cheeks just right to provide the perfect sensations as he slides his mouth along Alex’s cock. He’s trying so hard not to rock up into Henry’s mouth as he gets closer to completion. He feels his balls tighten, and his spine arches as he comes into Henry’s mouth. Alex lies on the couch panting, attempting but failing to get his hands on Henry to pull him up. Luckily, Henry understands and crawls up to place a kiss on Alex’s lips. It’s chaste and beautiful, but Alex needs a bit more; he pulls Henry in and kisses him with everything he’s got left. As much as he loves having Henry’s lips wrapped around his cock, he’ll never tire of getting to kiss those lips. Feeling them pressed against his own and laying claim to them whenever he wants is one of the best things about being in the same place for the last few years.

[kinnbig]

My current WIPs, in the order I last looked at them and for which I have actually written something

thank you for tagging me @kimchaybrainrot I love u (also I am 👀 at all of those but especially the KenBig HI I'M LISTENING INTENTLY.)

Chart Topper chapter 7 (Arm) - I've been working on this today! I love the concept for this chapter and it's finally getting there 🥰

Burnout aka "phoenix fic" - ah yes. the KenBig wip that was supposed to be a lil 2-3k fic that only took a week or so to write... that is now sitting at 20k four months later and still isn't done. rip. I love it so much though, I'm so excited to be able to share this one

assorted kiss prompt ask game ficlets - whoops. TWO MONTHS AGO I did an ask game for fic prompts to try and get me out of my writer's block.. and it worked! I posted 6 kiss prompt ficlets! but uh. there are 11 more in various states of completion 💀 personal faves include some ArmTankhun, some fucked up KenBig, and some RamKing ft Ram wearing a skirt 👀

ArmKhun fake dating fic - one of my favourite fic concepts EVER that has sadly taken a backseat in my brain because of Chart Topper and Burnout. but SOON I will return to my beloved

f/f KimChay - uhhhh. this is just shameless femslash pwp because. I think they should have been lesbians.

Let Me Live in Your Mind chapters 3 & 4- this fic is not abandoned I promise I'm still working on it! I'm just. slow 🫣

Footnotes aka "the Big and Ken centric pain and sadness compilation" lmao - this was suuuuch a huge project for me that I started basically immediately after KinnPorsche ended that just. idk. it's so long. it's not abandoned but it's very much on the back-burner rn

there are also many many half-written oneshots in there that I didn't put in the list because they'll probably never get finished (RamKing fake dating au, ArmKhun fic where Khun kills Korn, a KimChay exes with benefits thing, etc etc...) I just hoard WIPs like a dragon in a cave I can't help it!

I think lots of people have already been tagged so sorry if this is a double tag! but I'm tagging @sidras-tak @giraffeter @tumsa @prismatic-witch @days-of-storm @cytharat @snickerdoodlles - but no pressure of course! 💖

[mushiewrites]

97, 13, 52 with lee George and ler whoever you want :3 <3 have funnnn ilu

from this post

13 - “You know it’s wrong to lie, right?” / 52 - "That's adorable." / 97 - "Hm, but I thought you weren't ticklish?" / 868 words

Sapnap heard giggling coming from the living room, George's mischievous cackles grabbing his attention away from the open refrigerator for a moment before turning his head back to look over the drink selection. He grabbed a Dr. Pepper and closed the door with the heel of his foot, turning around and grabbing the bag of chips from the counter with his free hand and heading towards the living room.

As he walked into the carpeted room, he stopped suddenly, brows furrowed in annoyance when he spotted a certain brunette now curled up in the corner part of the L shaped couch, bundled up in the blankets Sapnap had on moments before.

"Seriously George? I leave for five seconds and you take my spot!" He watched as the oldest boy lifted his head, giving him a warm smile with eyes squinted into the tiniest crescent moons, almost melting Sapnap for a moment before he remembered what George had done.

"I like this spot!" George leaned back into the corner of the couch, wiggling in the spot a few times to signify that he was staying there, whether Sapnap liked it or not.

"Well, don't get used to it, cause you're moving."

"What?! I'm not!"

"George...." Sapnap growled in almost a whisper, turning around and placing his can of soda and chips on the table before turning back around to face him. "I'm gonna need you to move immediately."

"And if I don't?"

"You don't wanna find out."

George simply giggled at the threat, flashing a bright smile over to Dream, who was sat on one end of the couch, watching in amusement and waiting to see how it unfolds. The brunette only sunk further down into the couch, making Sapnap scream out in what only could be described as a battle cry. Dream watched with eyes wide as saucers as Sapnap flung himself onto the couch, grabbing at George and pulling any limb he could grab onto.

"Sapnap, get off! What are you, AHA! Don't!" George squirmed around as much as he could as the younger boy climbed on top of him, leaning on his thighs and straddling his waist and grabbing at his flailing arms. In his frenzy of trying to pull George off of the couch and out of his spot, his hand grabbed at his thigh, right above the knee, making George cry out with a hard kick and effectively freezing Sapnap's movements.

"What happened-"

"Nothing!"

"But you-"

"No! I'm not!"

Sapnap was confused with George's wording until he realized what actually happened, his confused frown slowly growing into an entertained smile as he poked at the older boy's tummy, making him jolt backwards with a squeal.

"Hm, but I thought you weren't ticklish? What happened, kitten?"

George scoffed at the accusation, grabbing at Sapnap's wrists now that he had the brief opportunity to, and held them away from his body. Sapnap began to wiggle his fingers, making George burst into nervous giggles.

"I'm nohot!"

"You know it’s wrong to lie, right?"

The elder felt his cheeks growing hotter, nodding slowly as he sunk back into the couch as much as he could. He quickly wrapped his arms around himself, pulling as many blankets over himself as he could to try and prevent Sapnap from breaking through, but it was no use. In seconds he felt hands squeezing at his knees, working their way up to his thighs and causing him to kick out with a shriek.

"STOHOHOP!"

"That's adorable! But no. No I will not." Sapnap smiled sweetly down at George, who was practically laying with his back against the seat of the couch with how much he had squirmed in an attempt to escape the tickling hands.

"Plehehease!"

"Hmm...nah! I think you need to earn that spot. Don't you agree, Dream?" Sapnap turned his head briefly to catch the blonde's eye, smiling when he saw the way Dream's fingers were clenching against his own thighs.

"Oh definitely. You need to earn the spot, Georgie."

"And I know the perfect way you can!" The youngest boy giggled, turning his attention back to George for a moment before turning his body towards Dream, motioning him to come over to where they were sat. "Care to join in, Dreamie?"

"It would be my honor."

George swallowed thickly through panicked laughter, holding his hands out in front of him and waving them at the two younger boy's, pushing and grabbing at the others hands every time they went to attack.

Sapnap and Dream played this game with him for a while, just hovering their hands over George, long enough that his anticipation was through the roof and floating amongst the stars. It was only then that they finally took pity on the giggly boy, both diving in with both hands and squeezing wherever they could. George was in hysterics in minutes, kicking and screaming and begging and cackling like his life depended on it. Sapnap focused on squeezing at George's ribs while Dream's hands fit perfectly around his thighs, matching Sapnap's pace and smiling when George squealed.

By the end of the night, the two made sure George earned that spot on the couch, not leaving a single spot untickled.

[searchingforserendipity25]

Ficlet prompt! Russingon + fairytale AU + “I’ve got you, I’ve got you” for the dialogue, if that catches your fancy ❤️

Thank you so much @theghostinthemargins! This was a very fun exercise, super involving, hope you enjoy it <3

Prompt from this list of AUs, the ask box is always open!

-

The dragon had been a surprise. 

Not a very great surprise, all things considered. Fingon had faced the sheer ravines, with their deep, ragged crevasses scattered with the bones of the valiant; had fought with sword and bold will the giant spider and her entrapping maze of illusions. 

The last of the caves lead him up, up the steep mountainside. There, nestled among the rock, carved out of it, stood a high and narrow and treacherous tower.

And atop that tower glinted a light of steel, and the paleness of bare flesh; and hair like fire burning in a pyre.

 Fingon’s heart, stout in the face of horrible death, and suffering, and eldritch Powers far vaster than him, leap in his chest with fright and joy at the sight, even as the great serpent uncoiled itself from around the tower, slowly, painfully slowly. 

He had not doubted - he had not allowed himself to doubt. But that iron certainty proved true, at last. The prince in the tower was bound, naked and defiant, hanging from the crenelation - but he lived, he lived, he raised up his head and saw him, and the distant voice of his beloved called out -

“Findekáno, Finno, run!”

And, of course, there was the dragon guarding the tower; immense it was, and more frightful even than the great spider, for it breathed a sulphorous steam with every breath, and its wings were very strong, its claws as wide and as tall as him. 

 Fingon had no intentions of running from him. He had come to free his friend - to save his betrothed, to claim the prize of peace between his divided people, to bring back Maitimo, his Russandol. 

Glaurung rained flame upon him. He found he could not look away frm those glittering golden eyes, cat-like and full of malice, and such a vast intelligence it made all the cunning of atisans and all the cleverness of craft, and rhetoric, and ruling, seem pale and petty and clumsy.

“It is no use,” the beast laughed. Its voice was very great, and deceptively soft: it slithered in the air, and the stones, coiled darkly around the nerves of the skull and the courage of the heart. “Deceiver and betrayer, false friend and false leader I name you: cowardly at heart, and evil the courage of your blade. Come not nearer, and I might let you go free, Findekáno Astaldo. It is a mercy I give you, and better than you have earned; the thing you mean to free for yourself would bring you to worse evil than mine own.”

“That may be,” Fingon said. “It likely would be. But I have heard some stories of your kind, worm. And great and mighty as you are, potent as the Doom laid upon my kin, still I say there is a thing that may defeat your evil, and kill the prophecy of evil over the Noldor. Hail, and listen!”

Hail, and listen!, he called in his heart to Maedhros, willing his fiercely to enter into his scheme. Listen, and believe, for I cannot believe enough for both of us -

He could not know whether Maedhros even heard him. All of this journey had been made on cunning and courage and faith, and here was the greatest challenge of all. 

Fingon filled his lungs with air, raised his bow, but he did not take aim. He did something else - wilder, and more foolish, the sort of thing a hero from a tale might do.

He sang. He sang of love lost, and love found; he sang of love that lead to slaughter, of distant fires and insurmountable betrayal. He sang of the Ice, which too was insurmountably, and which he did cross. 

Glaurung stepped back; but Fingon did not pursue. He did not have to. He sang of his sorrow, and his love’s sorrow; and he sang of his long journey. The journey’s end, as well: the curve of the arrow in the sky, the shuddering of the tower-stones as the dragon fell, the warmth of his beloved falling into his arms at last.

This is the thing about songs of love, in great tales. They can break every curse; all of them, all of them, if someone is mad and foolish and valiant enough to believe they might. To know, and make it known into the greater Music - this here is a great deed, a great love, and nothing shall stain it. 

Fingon believed it so, entirely. It filled him up, voice and marrow. It aimed the arrow for him, his faith, and bled his palms for him as he scrambled upwards to meet Maedhros, and pull him up, and up, and into his arms - at last, just as in the song.

Then, he was quiet. He was very tired, gasping; and Maedhros too trembled with terrible weariness. His arm was chained still, and would not be unchained. Great love might end curses, Fingon knew, but it demanded its price.

“Finno,” said Maedhros. His face was stark with bruises, hidden in filth. His eyes shone with a terrible light; he was smiling, and that was a terrible smile as well. “I could not credit it, I very nearly could not believe it - what madness possessed you -”

Maedhros had not hoped from escape, during all his torment, had been quite without hope in all things for to hope would be to imagine any of his kin coming to awful danger - but he had ceased to disbelieve, as Fingon sang. He, too, was a prince of the Noldor, and a scholar and lore-master, a splendid orator in his own right. He knew all the tales, and the laws that governed the world; how very much the boundaries of it were laid upon mad trust, mad belief.

Fingon had needed his faith, for the spell to hold its power against a dragon’s might; and so, for him, for him only, Maedhros had believed. Defiance would have been easier to ask from him; endurance would have been easier. But love demanded much, and Fingon had not climbed terrible cliffs and faced pitiless memories for a small love.

And he had done it.

To hang in estel as Fingon did battle and believe fully in his victory, to lend his faith and press it against thirty years of despair, against chains and torment and Glaurung’s smothering power, had been a very great working of power. Magic, in its truest sense: a spell made up all of will, strong and burning. 

That had always been Maedhros’ strength, the foundation of the skills that had made him mighty in war-magics; and that had been that which his enemies most sought to ruin. He laughed, victorious in survival, uncanny with the last of his power running hot in his veins; and then at last it dimmed, and he wept as he laughed, holding Fingon all the more tightly.

“I have you,” Fingon whispered back, voice torn to shreds, never to be strong enough to sing again. His own price, and gladly given.

He closed his arms around the feverish warmth of his beloved, let go of the bow, did not care to watch it fall unheeded upon the wreck of the dragon beneath. “I knew you could do it. I knew we could - Ai, Maitimo, Marítimo. My Russandol. I have got you, I have got you."

[serenescribe]

don't be shy tell us about hollow moon's bad ending :) (also such a great fic!!! your writing gives me so many emotions i had to lie down like a fainting victorian woman)

oh my god ;; okay, so- i feel like i should highlight first that this is all stuff that mainly got thrown around inside my head; i never actually wrote anything out properly? so this might come off more as a deranged rambling than anything else aha-

tbh the bad ending feels kinda self-explanatory: the moon wins. that's all there is to it; either sebek and malleus don't get there in time so silver manages to throw lilia off with magic and escape through the portal, or malleus' attempt to cut off his magic fails... et cetera, et cetera.

i got really tempted to write that. sheep (friend who helped me a lot with hollow moon) and i REALLY like the moon (we call her "moonie") and it just got really tempting to write a bad ending where she's basically toying with silver, dressing him in pretty clothes and making him entertain her, and kind of sort of managing to keep him alive (barely) while his mind's just a complete mess under the full extent of her thrall. idk, i'm a sucker for Women™ who do things like that. y'all don't know how much i liked writing moonie toying with silver in the dream sequences in hollow moon (answer: a lot)

except the problem is that this bad end led me to think about a good end to the bad end (convoluted!!), which utilises one of my favourite tropes in general: rescue missions. do you think?? the other three are just gonna take this lying down?? they're gonna find a way to break in and drag silver back and AAAAA i had to throttle and restrain myself from scrapping the original ending and writing that because. Do You KNOW how much i fucking LOVE rescue missions?? malleus 1v1's the moon while lilia and sebek go looking for silver (who is just unconscious and left in a pretty little tower somewhere in those mountains, sleeping in a bed while moonie deals w the pesky intruders...) something something the horror of seeing ur son just fucking Gone mentally and needing to drag him out before it's too late. anyways

IDK I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE but man. hollow moon. sure did take a lot out of me. moonie is a #girlboss and i love her. tbh the main reason why i didn't scrap it is bc 1) i think the fic would've gotten another 20k words and i was not strong enough and 2) i still like the og ending. i think it fits perfectly and i had it in mind since the beginning so i wasn't gonna just scrap it. IT WAS STILL TEMPTING THOUGH-

(also thank you!!! i'm glad you enjoyed! i'm filing that under my list of incredibly specific compliments that made my day aaaaa)

[dalliancekay]

We'll be Okay

(I posted something similar on Twitter so I will here too just in case someone needs to hear it, have a little comfort)

The husbands that hold our hearts together are a story that has a happy ending. They belong together, they always have and always will. We will see it eventually too.

There isn't a single universe where they don't end up in each other's arms. And if you think of them as existing before and after the Universe has, they always find a way to each other within it and outside it too. Whatever the fate throws at them. So their story is in a way finished, they are one. And we are going to see how. One version of it. The one Terry wanted for them. The others are outlined in the many many artworks this talented fandom is sharing now for 3 and half decades. And I have a feeling will do even a long time from now.

And remember, don't ever feel bad for loving something good, something beautiful. The fault here is not with you, it never is, it is entirely with someone else. Remember this if you ever fall for a wrong person, give your friendship to someone who hurts, uses you. Your love and your kindness is not diminished by someone who harms others and you are certainly not to blame for your trust. Loving things, being kind and enthusiastic and open are good qualities. We need more of this. Don't let the shadows of the world lessen your light. This is not what you deserve. This is on them.

GO3 will be made. Share your fav art. Love. Widely. (in both senses of the world)

I write (if it can be called that) tiny lil' ficlets where the husbands are happy, or talking about the things that worry them because I feel that's what they need (but is most likely what I need). Please do feel free to share and reblog with your comforts!

[rotting-inkblot]

Entertainment ~ {Autistic Bunny!Reader x Barry ficlet}

Warnings: Suggestive

It’s definitely a habit of yours, trailing after people when you’re bored or needing attention or simply wanting to be near someone. You also happen to step very lightly, or at least you’ve been told whenever you accidentally startle someone by seemingly appearing next to them without a sound. Right now you’re trailing behind Barry, just needing to be around him for some reason, even if you’re not doing anything. Tiptoeing behind him as he steps out the trailer, his boots making loud creaking and thumping sounds on the wood in stark contrast to your silent movements, following him when he walks up to his bike, you assume to do some maintenance on it or something. With a small distance between you and him, you simply stand and watch him crouch down and check something, eyes wide like a doe as you bounce on your heels, almost becoming entranced by his confident movements, your features relaxing into what you’ve been told is a resting sad face.

At some point he glances over to you as he stands up and physically jumps, his surprise startling you a little even, “Jesus Christ, bunny…” the fact that he says it with a smile soothes you, like a tiny reassurance, “how long have you been there, lil’ rabbit?”

“‘Whole time. Wanted to be near you ‘n’ followed you out.” You fiddle with your own fingers and bounce on the spot, still staring up at him, even as his gaze flicks down for a moment.

“Need t’ put a bell on you, I swear… You okay, bun?” He wipes his hands on his coveralls and reaches them out in a silent question to hold you, one you quickly answer by stepping closer into his arms, humming when they wrap around you.

“’m okay, just watchin’.” You tilt your head up and smile as he tips his head down presses a kiss to your forehead, “Like the bell idea. Might get annoying playing with it though, so be warned.”

“Mhm, think it’s pretty hard to get annoyed with you, lil’ rabbit…” peppering over your face with kisses, he smiles against your skin, a small smirk that you’ve learned only means one thing.

Your suspicions being immediately confirmed when coarse fingers dance up your spine and over the back of your neck, making you shiver and let slip a quiet whimper. When you feel his smirk turn into a mischievous grin, even as you whine and playfully hit his chest, you grumble out a quiet “Mean… know ‘m sensitive.”

“Mmmhm.” He slowly pulls back and places a final kiss between your furrowed brows that makes it hard to keep up your performed anger, “You wanna be my en’ertainment, bunny?” Excitement building, you simply smile and happily nod, continuing to bounce in place, holding back a laugh when Barry’s gaze drops again shamelessly, “Keep doin’ that, lil’ rabbit. Gimme somethin’ nice t’ look at while I work, yeah?” Again, you just nod, the idea of answering verbally completely slipping your mind, “Good bunny. I won’t be too long, promise.”

Fiddling with your own hands and continuing to bounce, occasionally shifting your weight from one foot to the other to prevent your legs from hurting, you simply watch him go back to his bike, occasionally glancing up at you and shamelessly raking his gaze over your body with that sleazy smile that makes your heart flutter, each time returning it with your own bright, prideful grin.

[amostnobleyandere]

Yandere! Scaramouche x GN! Reader

summary: reader lives in a small town and hates it, scara drops by, and then they get kidnapped.

A/N: tiny-whiny, teeny-weeny lil ficlet!

!!! do not read if you are not comfortable with yandere content !!!

warning(s): YANDERE, yandere content, kidnapping, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, forced affection, forced marriage, scara has a bad temper and is irritated af literally all the time, mention of blood and gore for two seconds

—————————

people in your little village had always told you that your reckless behavior would lead to something dangerous. something that you wouldn’t be able to handle. the warnings had been thrown at you throughout the years, but never seemed to have any effect on your behavior.

in fact, they had warned you about him before you had even met. the second he came into town, actually. he was the fatui harbinger that walked across nations like he owned them, looked at people as if they were weeds at his feet, and spit burning words with an acid coated tongue. he was shrewd and had an explosive temper that matched his arrogant personality. he spilt blood without care, laying battlefields in rivers of crimson. he was not merciful, not kind, and you were certain there were no traits that could have possibly redeemed him as a man, much less a human, now that you knew he was made from clay and paint rather than flesh and blood.

it was just a way to have a little fun; that’s how it had started, and that’s how you had rationalized it. for once in your life, you were flirtatious, bold with reckless abandon, and charmingly lovely with a man, doing your best to grab his attention. the only appeal of trying to form a relationship with him came from the fact that he was a harbinger and had seen the world, something that you had always dreamed about; it mattered little to you that he was cross and sarcastic, as long as there was a possibility that he would let you see the world outside of the quaint huts and humble farmland that you grew up in

you did recognize that you were practically walking to your death; you really did. you weren’t so stupid to think that pestering a harbinger, someone so desensitized to human suffering, blood and gore alike, would leave you with no consequences.

but, you had lived in a small town in the secluded countryside, with homely people and an itch to see the unknown. your life felt repetitive, stuck, and it nearly drove you mad. so yes, when one of the harbingers of the Tsarita, a god among mortals, suddenly lodged himself into the boring domesticity of some random no-name town on secret business, you became a little overexcited. for once, something big was making waves in your life, with the violet haired man at the center of it all. the rush went to your head quickly, and you found yourself playing a game that had dire consequences if (when) you lost.

you were friendly at best, and coy at worst. you vied for his attention. you greeted him cheerfully when he obviously did not want to be greeted. you smiled when his temper went off and he snapped at you with that vile mouth, all cruel words and biting remarks.

worst of all, you talked with him. you spent time with him, walked and made conversation, not noticing how he almost relaxed around you. looking back on it, you think that was what had put the nail in your coffin.

there was no sign that he was attached to you, and you were content with your rocky companionship in the end.

one day even, he said he had never met someone so forward, but he spoke the words with a sneer that revealed his displeasure at your persistence.

you took that sneer as a sign that he wanted nothing to do with you, however persistent you may have been. that he would simply use you as a source of entertainment, and then leave, leave your little town, like you so desperately ached to.

and you told him this, too. you told him about your dreams, your hopes, one day with a sad smile and a bitter laugh. perhaps it had just been the fact that you were talking with someone who might sympathize with you, or at least, consider your words of traveling the world and treat them as if they could actually become reality.

on this day, his eyes did soften. he looked at you not with irritation or annoyance, but with a placid and neutral expression. he did not speak. his eyes only looked through you, meeting your gaze and not turning away. his silence quickly began to make you uncomfortable, and you changed to subject with a forced laugh, excusing yourself to go back home, as the sun went down behind the hills and the glow began to dim from your skin.

he left the next day. that was all you expected to see of him in the end. you returned back to your daily life easily. you were not happy, but remorsefully indifferent towards the fact that the last bit of something new you would probably ever see had left forever; you tried to be.

one day, however, when night had come over your village and all was silent, there was a knock at your door. you got up, not expecting to see the harbinger standing there with his arms crossed, that same placid expression on his face.

you watched his eyes narrow. he dismissed your reasoning with a wave of his hand. he dragged you outside.

that was the last you saw of your little town.

you travel now. You have to, with him being your husband. but, you never got to see the world. you could not take a step outside of the little bubble he had formed for you. the only joy that came of the never ending travel that was now your life happened when he allowed you to come and walk by his side to explore, letting you gawk and flitter around until he dragged you back with him into your little bubble, his hand on your wrist.

you are draped in riches, silks chosen by his hand, and are given every luxury you could ever need.

most importantly, you are his spouse, first and foremost, and are expected to act as such. you entertain yourself at home while hes gone, and greet him when he comes back. it was an easy routine to follow. almost as easy as the one you had back in your old town, which now whenever you thought back to it brought tears to your eyes. at least your life had belonged to you solely, back then. now you are the spouse of a fatui harbinger.

you had stopped trying to get him to let you go, after your last attempt to protest him ripping you from your ordinary life only got you a dismissive wave of his hand and a disinterested glare. never mind that this isn’t what you had meant when you said you wanted to travel the world; he was making it happen. it was better than being stuck in that quaint village for the rest of your mortal life, right?

hadn’t he given you what you wanted? the only price was to stay here, with him, with everything you could ever need at your feet. the only price was your freedom.

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Little!April x Cg!Ben - Leaving

just a lil ficlet of how I see the decision being made that April will go to D.C. with Ben !! My fave da and bubba at the moment (I didn’t edit this cause I’m supposed to be studying … mama ann content coming in the next few days will be much better tho)

Word count: 1204

Everything was perfect. April was on the couch with her back against Andy’s shoulder as he played the Xbox. She had her bat paci in her mouth and her stuffie in her arms. She was even wearing one of Andy’s flannels which swamped her and made her feel tiny. Andy was feeling a bit bigger than usual and was playing scary games which April thought were so cool. She was happily listening to the sounds of the games and suckling her pacifier when Ben came in. “Hey ‘Pril,” he smiled, ruffling April’s hair playfully. She groaned and squirmed away but it didn't really upset her. “Hey, can I talk to you kids?” Ben asked.

“Can I finish this level?” Andy asked without taking his eyes off the screen. April rolled her eyes, Andy was too obsessed. She leant over and turned off his game. “April!” Andy whined.

April dropped her paci onto the couch, “Da needs to talk,” she shrugged.

“Thanks April. Andy, this is only going to take a minute.” Ben sat down on the ottoman opposite the couch, clasping his hands together nervously. “I’ve taken a job in Washington running a congressional campaign, I'm going to be away for a few months.” April’s heart sank. He couldn’t leave. She needed Da. Who else would make her bottles and let her draw on their face and back her up when Andy’s being annoying? And how would she sleep if Da didn’t tuck her in?

“What’s a coressional campaign?” Andy asked. How could he care about that right now? Da was leaving. This was the worst news ever.

“Well, it’s sort of like what Leslie did on a bigger scale buddy,” Ben explained. April’s chest felt heavy and wrong. She didn’t want to cry or to have Ben know that she cared so much but her eyes were burning and her cheeks felt hot. “April, are you alright little bat?” April shook her head firmly and reached out for Ben. He pulled her into his lap, letting her hide her face in his shoulder. “What happened, what’s going on in your little head?” April just huffed, now her face was hidden away she couldn’t hold back her tears. Ben frowned, rubbing circles against April’s back.

“Pril crying?” Andy questioned, rocking back and forth nervously, the out of character emotional outburst from his wife making him feel smaller.

“She’s alright, she’s just a little bit sad right now. I think she’s gonna miss Da, hm?” He questioned gently, trying to soothe April’s tear stricken face out of hiding.

“Nooo,” she whined, rubbing at her cheeks. Another wave of sobs hit her quickly and she tightened her grip on Ben’s shirt.

Andy shuffled up to the edge of the couch so he could reach over and pat her shoulder comfortingly. “You’re allowed to miss Da, ‘Pril.” April just whined and curled closer to Ben. She knew that if she was a bit bigger she would not let herself do this but she felt so small and she needed her Da.

“You’re alright baby bat, I’m right here,” Ben soothed, gently bouncing her on his knee. He picked up her pacifier off the couch and slipped it back into her mouth. The comfort item soothed April enough to stop the sobs. She still clung to Ben. “Alright, there we go.” Ben gently coaxed April’s face away from his shoulder, cupping her face in one hand and wiping her tears away with the other. “That’s it, you got it. Change can be scary can’t it, hm? But that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

April’s face scrunched up, it was bad. “Bad bad bad,” she huffed, pressing her hands against her ears.

“No little Bat, it would just mean you could spend some more time with Leslie, or maybe Auntie Ann, doesn’t that sound nice?” April shook her head firmly, it did not sound nice. She wanted Da and she wanted everything to stay the same. Her life was nice, it was good. Everyday she came home and Da was always there to take care of her and Andy was there to play with her so, no, she didn’t think change would be nice. “Alright, that’s alright. You don’t have to like it right now.”

Andy huffed and leant back dramatically, growing bored and fidgety, “can I keep playing now?”

“No, go take a shower Bud, Leslie’s coming over for dinner.”

By the time Leslie arrived for dinner both the kids were showered and in their pajamas. April had calmed down significantly and was now wearing her favourite pyjamas - a short sleeve set with a little bat in the middle of the top and purple shorts. She stayed close to Ben, silently following him around the kitchen as he prepared calzones. “April, would you like me to brush your hair?” Leslie offered, noticing the girls wet and matted hair. April shook her head firmly, holding onto the hem of Ben’s shirt.

“April, go with Leslie darling.” April huffed and stomped her foot, frustrated tears pooling in her eyes.

Leslie frowned in confusion, unaware of April’s earlier upset. “What’s the matter April, this isn’t like you,”

Ben sighed, wrapping his arm around April. “She’s a bit upset that I’m going to D.C.” he explained. April shook her head and rubbed harshly at her eyes.

“Am not.”

Leslie sighed, “C’mere April.” April whined but reluctantly slipped onto the stool next to Leslie. “You know I’m gonna miss Ben too,” she explained as she began to brush April’s hair. “But he won’t be gone very long.” April crossed her arms, why didn’t they understand? This wasn’t ok. Everything was good how it was. Slowly Leslie began to realise the root of April’s upset. It wasn’t just that she’d miss Ben, it was that she didn’t want anything to change. “You know, Ben will need an assistant in Washington,” she suggested, glancing at Ben as she tied off the two plaits in April’s hair.

Ben realised what Leslie was suggesting quickly. “Wait, Pril, do you wanna come with Da?” April nodded eagerly.

“Please?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ben shrugged.

“Wha’ about Andy?”April asked, taking one of her plaits and chewing on the end.

“Andy,” Ben called. Andy poked his head up from behind the couch, a crayon sticking out of his mouth. “Andy.”

“Andy, crayon out please,” Leslie instructed. Andy frowned but spat it out.

“Thanks Buddy. What would you think if April came with me on that trip we talked about? Would you wanna come with us?” Andy scrunched his face up, Washington sounded fancy and grown up, plus he had to work on becoming a police officer!

“Psht no,” he laughed, “Burt Macklin has work to do!” And with that Andy disappeared back behind the couch.

“Well then ‘Pril,” Ben smiled, “what do you think of a little Da and April trip?”

April swung her legs happily. “Dada, ‘Pril.”

“Well it’s decided then, I’ll call Jenn in the morning.” He leant over and kissed the top of April’s head. Ben found the idea of having April with him in Washington comforting, knowing he wouldn’t have to worry about her all alone anymore.

[my-cabbages-gorl]

Mercy and Lightning- tiny lil zukaang ficlet by @my-cabbages-gorl

General Audiences, hurt/comfort, zukaang

inspired by this post from @that-boomerang-guy

~

Sun-warmed moisture wrapped its relentless arms around their weary bodies. The damp air clung to their skin, even on the shaded side of the courtyard. With only a few days until the comet, they were bone-tired from training; body and spirit. 

“I’m sorry- I need a break. We’ve been at this for hours,” Aang huffed between breaths. He turned his back to walk toward the steps to sit down. The sight of pinkish boiled flesh in the center of his back stabbed Zuko with an uncomfortable urgency. Before Aang could take his next step, he felt a hand close tightly around his wrist. “Zuko, wh--”  

“You need to master this technique,” the command of his teaching voice faded, replaced now only with pleading. “Please, Aang. We don’t have much time for rest.”  

“Even if you think I’m ready,” he didn’t pull his wrist from Zuko's grasp as he looked up into his golden eyes, “how can we be sure I can do it if we don’t even have lightning to redirect?” he sounded exhausted, “Is there any way to make sure that I can do it? That I don’t- ” his voice pitched in exasperation before his gaze fell to the stone floor.     Die, again? Is what he wanted to say. But, he couldn’t ask that. Not to the person who watched his limp body convulsing with electricity, gasping for his last breath. The same person who sent an assassin to make sure he stayed dead.  

In the way Aang’s wrist slumped in Zuko’s hand, he could feel the memory washing over him; as if it was flowing into his skin with every heartbeat fluttering in the veins under his fingertips. He wanted to wrap Aang in his arms, promise he’d protect him; that he’d do everything in his power to keep him safe; beg him to master this because he couldn’t afford to lose him, the only person who showed him mercy and believed in who he really was. He wanted to crush his palms against Aang’s jaw, drag him close and say next time, I’ll kill for you; next time, I’ll die for you. 

Instead, he said, “I should have stopped her, but I didn’t,” their hands still tethering them together.  

Aang turned to face him, the stern set of his narrowed eyes meeting Zuko’s. “But, you didn’t,” he tilted his face away, seeing a dragonfly-hummingbird flitting between the trees lining the courtyard. As he noticed the scales of it’s wings glinting in the sunlight, Zuko watched the lines of his face soften.  

“Aang, I’m so, so-” his grip slackening as he spoke. 

“Zuko, it’s...” okay? But, it wasn’t. Not yet, at least. But somehow, somewhere between the feeling of Zuko's fingers on his wrist and the tenderness in his amber eyes, Aang knew it would be okay. He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting from a frown into a hard line. “Let’s go over the forms again," their eyes locking with a nod, "sifu.” 

Breaking apart, they bowed to one another in the hallowed air. Their feet slid across the sun-warmed stone as they assumed fighting positions. As the hours wore on, Aang watched in silence as Zuko shifted, mirroring his body with his own. When the sun had sagged down behind the horizon, Aang lit a fire so he could keep following Zuko's movements in the fading light. They moved together through their stances into the night; dancing to the charged, mysterious harmony of death and rebirth.

~

[cultofdarkwood]

ughhhh i kinda wanna write tiny lil ficlets for cotl 😭

fuuuck. okay. send me a prompt and some characters in my inbox and ill write like. 500ish words for it. ill do any ship if i like it enough/think it's interesting :3 this includes rarepairs!!

(if you send me a lambship (or a ship w a miniboss) and u wanna see a specific dynamic, include that too and ill do my best :3)

optional prompt masterlists i like to use if u can't think of one: (fluff + romo), (misc + angst)

[infiniteeight8]

I think you should continue a sequel but this time Tony has upgraded much more better things that a vibrator could handle since Stephen is a lil kinky in bed lmao

This is a follow up to this ficlet. It is not a sequel to the other follow up, although I guess there’s not really anything that prevents them from being in the same ‘verse.

Also, you were probably expecting porn for this response, but Tony got carried away with all the features he built into this toy. LOL.

-

“It’s a dildo,” Stephen said, turning the metallic black toy over in his hands. It was completely smooth; there wasn’t even a battery cover or a charging point breaking the surface.

Tony scoffed and held up a remote control with a frankly astonishing number of buttons and dials. “It’s a lot more than a dildo. First—but also least—of all, it has ten different levels of vibration.” He clicked a button; the toy shivered to life in Stephen’s hands and cycled through ten increasingly intense levels. 

Stephen had to admit that the strongest vibration was impressive, as sex toys went, but he still gave Tony a tiny smirk and said, “So it’s a vibrator.”

Tony’s return smirk said that he knew very well that Stephen was baiting him. “Does a vibrator do this?” A couple of button clicks and the toy cycled through a series of shapes, from simple increased thickness through several options to a stack of spheres of increasing size before returning to the standard cock shape. Stephen could swear it’s total volume changed, but  remained completely rigid. How…

“Tony,” Stephen said slowly. “Is this thing made of nanotech?”

“It also has motion on two axes,” Tony said. One end of the dildo started twisting in a circle. After a moment it stopped and the whole thing contracted and expanded, thrusting like a miniature fucking machine.

“Tony.”

“And there are both hot and cold temperature options, of course!” Tony announced, not catching Stephen’s eye.

“Tony,” Stephen repeated. “Did this dildo cost a billion dollars to make?”

“Of course not,” Tony said cagily. Stephen raised his eyebrows. Tony squirmed. “Maybe three hundred million? Give or take? But I already had the nanobots, so really, it was free!”

Stephen started laughing helplessly. 

Only Tony Stark.

[harleyquilt]

A lil touken/kanetou ficlet expanding on this hc >:3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do guys often flirt with you?” Kaneki asks Touka glumly, a baby Ichika holding onto his pinky.

He lies next to her on the floor, watching Touka fold laundry on the nearby couch. Touka gives him a knowing smile, which only adds to his restlessness. He pouts, looking down at Ichika. The baby gives a wide, toothless smile, kicking her legs out while shaking Kaneki's hand. He breaks into a smile, tickled by Ichika’s abundant happiness.

“Yeah, they sometimes try to catch my attention.” Touka finally responds, holding up a tiny, bunny onesie. Kaneki tries his best to hide his growing irritation. “Can't say I've ever seen anyone try as hard as this one particular Dove, though.” Kaneki is now looking at her with a slight frown, and with a smirk, Touka shakes her head. “It was pretty funny, actually. He went as far as to buy a book about coffee, hoping to impress me.”

Kaneki's irritation rapidly dissolves into deep and frantic embarrassment. Hiding his blushing face behind his hands, he curses Haise under his breath. Ichika watches him, slapping a small hand against his arm. It's like she, too, was mocking him. His very own daughter, already turned against him. Touka giggles, tempted to tease him further. There were plenty of memories she had of Haise that she could now recount to Kaneki, reminding him of how he repeatedly approached Touka with a clumsy innocence.

“Just…” Kaneki lowers his hands, the tips of his ears still red. “Don't let anyone else talk to you like that, okay?”

“Yes, yes.” Touka folds the last of the laundry, taking the pile under her arm and standing up. “Coffee?”

. . .

A human customer stands before Touka, wearing an expression one might describe as awestruck. He swallows, clearly nervous, and he takes a moment to pluck together the words he was about to say.

“Yes, the house b-blend, please.”

Touka offers a polite smile, but keeps her eyes lowered, tapping the order into the register. “That'll be–”

“U-Um!” He interrupts her with a yell, looking alarmed all the while. Touka raises a brow, looking between him and the register. “I just wanted to say that y-you’re really pretty! You're the most beautiful person I've ever met!!”

Proclaiming this, he reaches awkwardly into his wallet for the payment. He's clearly hoping for some kind of response, but is also driven by the shameful need to run away. Touka suppresses a deep sigh, maintaining her usual smile. After working in such a profession for most of her life, it is not difficult for her to feign flattery for those who try to win her heart. Polite, distant flattery, that is. The glimmer in his eyes will quickly fade once she makes it clear that she's not interested.

That is until Kaneki appears behind her, a hand on her shoulder. He dons a smile not dissimilar to hers – polite, but with a touch of insincerity. No, it's not quite the same. She can see it, his agitation, lurking underneath the calm surface, ready to lash out. She almost wants to laugh, seeing him jealous over something so trivial.

“She is, isn't she?” Kaneki says, squeezing Touka against him. His eyes are cold, cutting right through the bashful warmth of the customer. “I'm lucky to have her as my wife.”

“Alright, alright.” Touka shoves him away, giving the customer a small, apologetic bow. “That'll be ¥700, sir.”

Kaneki pouts at first, before glaring at the customer. The man, suddenly frightened, places the precise amount onto the counter and hurries away. Kaneki sighs and hugs Touka from behind.

“G-Get back to work, idiot.” Touka hisses, trying to push his hands away. “What's gotten into you?”

“He was bothering you.” Kaneki mutters, hugging her tighter.

Touka tuts. “First of all, I can handle myself.” She pries his hands away from her and faces him, pinching her lips together. He looks away, a little ashamed. Only a little, though. “Secondly, he wasn't bothering me!”

“He was,” Kaneki insists. “I could see it, the evil intent in his eye– oww.”

Touka pinches his cheek, her lips curling into an irritated smile. He rubs his cheek once she lets go, nodding solemnly when she orders him back to work. Tutting again, she returns to the register, finding another starry-eyed customer.

It was going to be a long day.

. . .

The cafe is now empty, save for Kaneki and Touka. They're cleaning up the cafe, wiping down tables and restocking their coffee beans in preparation for tomorrow. Touka stretches her arms up, yawning. And before she can lower her arms, Kaneki loops his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck.

“Why do you always sneak up from behind me?” Touka asks, smirking. She sways with Kaneki as he rocks her gently side to side. “Afraid to face me?”

With a quiet snort, he turns her to face him and he gives her a long, tender kiss. Despite being together for over a year, sharing such intimacy still sends a flurry of butterflies through their hearts, as if it were the first time. Touka holds a hand against Kaneki's cheek, smiling.

“It's nice to have you all to myself.” Kaneki remarks with a hint of pride. Touka’s smile drops briefly and she pinches his cheek again. “A-Ah, I was kidding.” Releasing him, he kisses her forehead. “Mostly.”

“You're so needy.” She mutters, though she hugs him tightly, resting her head against his chest. “You're like a bunny.”

“Shouldn't it be the other way around…?”

They stay like that for a moment, enjoying the peaceful quiet around them and the warmth of each other's bodies. Leaning back, Kaneki brushes aside her bangs, looking into her cool, dark eyes.

“You really are beautiful, Touka-chan.”

Touka's cheeks immediately turn red, her eyes darting between Kaneki and the ground as she shrinks away. Compliments from strangers did so little to stir her heart, and yet when Kaneki touches her with his soft-spoken words, his entire attention on her and her alone, it's almost overwhelming. It's like her heart struggles to hold the weight of his affection. It left her rather flustered, which only spurred him on. He cups her cheeks, showering her with even more praise. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, her lips pressed together.

“That's too much…” She mutters, not wanting to see the satisfaction on his face.

“But it's true.” He kisses her again and Touka feels like she could melt into his arms at any moment. And though she does not want to admit it aloud, she'd be glad to, if it's Kaneki.