#made sure to slide that into the drawing at least somewhat :)

[yourlocalbug]

merry chrimbus!!! my @ishimondoevents secret santa gift for @minimechacowboy !! :D

one of the wishlist prompts was some werewolf taka and this image was beamed into my head immediately..... sorta moment of discorvery type :3

i hope you have a happy holiday/merry christmas/etc !!

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 5: Bondage

Summary: You were only concerned about the possible injuries your boyfriend may face, you wouldn't dare question his power. However, he doesn't see it quite that way. Warnings: Bondage, P in V sex, cum, the reader has a vagina, mentions of cock, pet name usage. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption. - Apologies for the shorter fic today, I am traveling. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @macabr3-barbi3 Their Kinktober post today literally made me so crazy I screamed and wanted to read more. GO CHECK THIS BEAUTIFUL HUMAN OUT!

You shouldn’t have mentioned it. Really and truly a mistake on your part to question the strength of your egomaniac boyfriend. Vox, the “all-seeing” and charasmatic leader of the Vees, was…to put it lightly, very self-conscious. So, when visiting him on his lunch break, you had the small inkling of the idea to ask him how strong the wires were that fed into his televised head from his monitors. 

It was a simple question really, you had been worried that they may tug on his head painfully or maybe they could get loose and damage something. You had done nothing wrong but be a loving and concered girlfriend. At least, that is what you thought in the moment. In reality, Vox had taken it as a sign of a dent against his strong display of power; how dare you insult the integreity of his creations, the strength of him even. Those wires fed him information on every unfortunate being in Hell and to inquire as to their power could simply not stand. 

And so, here you were, tied one limb to each corner of his expansive desk by those very wires as Vox teased your weeping cunt with the tip of his heavy cock. 

“Dollface, we haven’t even started yet, and you're drenching this desk.” Continuing to drag his finger across your slit, you couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped your lips as you pulled slightly on the restraints. You could feel the weight of his dragging across the slick that spilled from your cunt.

“Fuck Vox, that ain’t gonna—“

“It’s gonna fit dollface…you’re gonna take me so well. Gonna fill that tight—shit!”

Slowly sliding his cock in, he stretched your needy hole. Both of your moaning both at the sight and feeling, the delicious yet somewhat burning friction that both of you so desperately craved.

“You tell me when you want me to move.” 

You nodded rapidly, fisting random papers underneath you in a fit of pleasure and pain. “Please…just move please.”

Slowly thrusting, taking his time to draw out every noise, he relished in the sight below him. All tied up and pretty, moaning and writhing in pleasure all because of him, his power and creations. The thoughts alone nearly had Vox busting inside you, mumbling incoherently as he picked up the pace, driving deeper, the walls of your cunt squeezing onto him for dear life. The added weight and pace was becoming nearly too much. 

“Go on baby. Tell me….tell me how good I feel….”

“Fuck, only you—holy shit—just you.” 

“You loved being tied up like this mhmm….like my little needy whore?”

You felt the coil in your stomach snap as you cry his lover’s name. Surely, the whole office, maybe even Hell had heard you by now….just as Vox wanted. Cumming nearly seconds later, spilling hot ropes of cum into you, Vox collapsed slouched on top of you with a heavy moan. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged you in on the desk; pushing his cum back into you as he drew himself ontop of you panting body. 

“Now babydoll…wanna test the strength of anything else I have?”

[nekrosdolly]

haunting you - a. wesker x reader

you're a stripper and he's a scientist who's never felt the touch of another.

a/n; first wesker piece i've written in a whiiiile so i'm sorry if this is a little clunky!!

content warnings; set in 1998 before the mansion incident, jill moonlights as a bartender, virgin!wesker, stripper!reader (no set stripper name), wesker is in his late thirties (38), reader is 21, loss of virginity, brief dry-humping, sex (p in v), dirty talk, technically bottom/sub wesker, top/dom reader, this might be ooc (im rusty), light petplay (you call him a puppy and he almost creams), whiny wesker, slight condescension from the reader, not proofread as always lol

terms of endearment; darling, sweetheart, dear, puppy (wesker)

wc; 2.460k

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, one of many workers tonight who are less than strapped for cash not unlike yourself. Since you were legal, you’d made the choice, albeit degrading, to start stripping. That was three years ago. Now twenty-one, you’re less naive and smarter with your money, but still lacking financially. Not to mention, you’d been at this club for three years, why change that? No real job would take you if you told them what you’d been doing as a makeshift career anyway.

And so you stare. Your makeup is kept simple but alluring enough for most anyone to be drawn to you, but your outfit is the real showstopper. Strappy and black, you’re nearly naked, but you’re used to that by now. The usual pre-performance jitters have struck you once again, leaving you with cold feet and nerves that aren’t much warmer. Even in the back rooms, you can hear the bass-heavy music and high whistles of men vying for more of whomever’s attention. It’s enough to draw you from your shell and with a few deep breaths, you force yourself away from the vanity. The path to the stage is short, much to your chagrin, and the lights are hotter than hell when you step out to the shiny stage. While you get no cheering, you get your own special welcome of drunken customers whistling lowly and the occasional whoop. 

You know from experience that, while intoxicated, watching someone work the pole is hypnotic at the least. Your audience can hardly take their eyes off of you, rolling your body against the chromatic steel pole. It’s still warm from the previous dancer. Your anthem for tonight is seductive and slow, as most dancers’ songs are, and your face is the peak of seduction even as the inebriated crowd douses you with cash of all varieties.

After the dance, you’re slick with the slightest sheen of sweat. Nobody ever said dancing was easy, even the exotic kind. You walk to the bar, swaying your hips with every step. Despite the money you’d earned from your on-stage performance, you’re hounding for more. You refuse to leave with less than your month’s rent tonight. So you saunter to the bar, your sultry gaze scanning the sea of people carefully.

“A drink?” Jill, the bartender asks as you lean against the bar. She’s always liked you, so she slips you a free drink now and then.

“Please,” you nod softly and she smiles, ready to make your usual as a platinum-blonde man approaches you. He offers you no smile, just a somewhat menacing stare. You’d be scared if there wasn’t something so virginal about him. Otherwise handsome, with pale skin and blue eyes behind slightly dorky prescription glasses. Not to mention, he’s dressed in a suit.

“Lovely show,” he says with a somewhat nasally voice. Like clockwork, you smile and sip the cocktail Jill slides over to you. His lips twitch slightly at the corners- a smile by his terms in return.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Of course, dear.” He takes a seat on the stool beside you, flagging Jill over for a cocktail of his own. He seems confident, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s got money or because he’s talking to someone attractive. Your gaze remains steady on his face, although his trails much lower on you before flicking up to meet your eyes. Weird, you could’ve sworn they were blue just a moment ago…

“Do tell, darling,” he ghosts a pale, elegant hand over your shoulder, “how much would a few hours of privacy with you cost me?” 

Just looking at him, he seems like he has money. He reeks of crisp bills that can hardly fit in his overflowing wallet. Part of you wonders just how much you can get out of him. Your performance left you with roughly $360- not quite enough. Should you play your cards right, he could be your last customer for the night.

“Three hundred per hour.” You say with that same smile. He doesn’t flinch at the number like most men might. Then again, you get the feeling that he’s not like most men. He seems respectful, too- maybe you were wrong and he’s a regular, or maybe he doesn’t want to get kicked out. He nods and you finish your drink quickly. He does the same.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the back of the club where there’s less light and doors that lead to private rooms. If he were allowed to touch you, he’d offer you his arm.

-

You can always tell the experience level of men when they’re alone with you, away from friends whom they might try to fool with a hyper-masculine persona. This man- whose name you still don’t know- is similar to that. He grows a bit more fidgety, maybe out of impatience, and when he sits down on the plush velvet booth surrounding the stage, he struggles to stay still. He clears his throat quietly and looks away from you as you straddle him.

“So tell me,” you purr, cupping his jaw and guiding him to look at you in all your seductive glory. The way your hair is styled compliments your makeup, the curve of your pliant flesh between the straps of your skimpy bikini bottom that’s adorned with black gems, and your top decorated with those same gems. His cheeks heat up at the smooth sound of your voice, red tinging his alabaster cheeks. Nervous eyes trail up your body to meet your own, your heavy gaze inflicting arousal upon him. The heavy feeling pools in his gut, his cock twitching to life in his boxers.

“What’re you looking for? A lap dance? Something a little more?” It’s a little late to be asking that but you get the feeling he doesn’t mind. Even though you’re just hovering, you can feel a hint of the bulge in his pants.

He swallows thickly.

“What would a little more get me?” He asks quietly, his hands unsteadily hovering around your waist. Seeing such soft skin begging to be touched makes his mouth water. Little do you know- you might, given how anxious he seems to be- he’s had very few chances to touch someone as gorgeous as you. He’d taken none of those chances and to this day, remains a virgin. He’s not used to being so close to someone like you.

“Sex, sweetheart.” You rub his cheek with your thumb, resisting the urge to tease him into oblivion. Technically, soliciting sex is against club rules, but what your boss doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “Would that cost extra?” “Yeah, it would. You buying?”

“H-How much?”

“An extra three hundred.”

He rushes to grab his wallet from his pocket and dig out the three hundred. You smile as you take it from his trembling hand and tuck it into the waistband of your panties.

“Thank you…”

“Albert.”

“Thank you, Albert,” you settle your full weight onto his lap, really feeling the extent of his boner under your clothed cunt. He groans quietly, biting his bottom lip as he stares wantonly at you. A soft giggle escapes your throat, “just a few rules though.”

He gulps and nods, trying his hardest to pay attention in favor of rutting against your warm, inviting cunt like a dog in heat. You let go of his face.

“One; you cannot leave bruises- no hickeys, scratches, bitemarks, etcetera. Two; no kissing, I need my makeup to be perfect. Three; I’m in control and if you have a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace.” You give him a moment to voice any protests, but he’s quiet as a mouse.

“Fourth and finally, if you cum inside of me, you’re paying me an extra hundred per load. Do you consent to all these rules?”

“I do.”

“Good man,” you feel his cock throb at the praise. Albert sucks in a sharp breath as you slowly roll your hips, a shaky exhale following when you guide his hands to your waist. His hesitance feeds your confidence like fuel to a fire. He tips his head back, each movement against his clothed cock forcing a pathetic whine from the back of his throat. He bites his bottom lip hard and true to a virgin’s ways, his climax is approaching quickly. Sure, he’s masturbated before, but this is much different. You’re so pretty and wet, your dripping arousal soaking through the gusset of your panties. Watching him slowly come undone, the menacing facade melting into the mess he’s trying so hard not to be is satisfying. You’re relatively unphased, even as his cock bumps your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. He’s getting too close to cumming.

“I-I’m going to- Wait, please,” he grips your hips tight, making you still, “I need to be inside of you.” You nod softly and scoot back a little, allowing him to unzip his fly and shove his pre-cum stained boxers down so his cock stands free. Pale fading to pink at the tip, weeping with sticky, salty fluid- he’s long, about three fingers thick, and clean-shaven. He looks down at your hand as you grab his length, cooing quietly at him with faux sympathy and stroking him once, twice.

“Please,” his hands ball into fists with the effort of his restraint. Needy, half-lidded blues meet yours again, “please fuck me.” 

“Sure, sweetheart.” You chuckle softly and push your panties to the side, careful of the cash hooked on your waistband, and shuffle closer. He nearly cums the moment you lower yourself onto his achy length, his mouth dropping open. You wince slightly at the stretch- it’s on you for forgoing prep, but how can you deny him when he’s so pliant in your hands? His hands shoot our to grab your waist firmly, struggling to maintain what little composure he has left. Panting, his cheeks are bright red, and he can’t stop looking at you. 

He allows you a moment to adjust- though it’s mostly for himself to will himself to avoid cumming on the spot. You’re wet and warm, gummy walls surrounding his length perfectly. It’s even better when you start moving, rolling your hips smoothly. Hands on his shoulders, you keep yourself steady as you ride him. Soft moans fall from your lips, his cock brushing against your spongy g-spot deep within your velvetine walls. He’s all but whimpering, his perfectly aligned teeth digging hard into his pale pink lower lip so hard he might bleed.

He does once you lean forward and move faster, your face just inches from his. If you hadn’t set the rule of no kissing, he’d be pressing his lips to yours to hide his pathetic noises. 

“You know,” you murmur, locking his eyes to yours again, “you look kind of like a puppy.” His cock kicks inside of you at that, a stray moan slipping from his lips. He shouldn’t like that, really. He’s a scientist- a virologist to be more specific-, a professional, uptight man, and yet he’s acting so subserviently. It would be bothersome if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you and nearing his climax quickly. 

Panting, he struggles to restrain himself. He can’t help himself as he leans forward and wraps you in his (oddly) strong arms, burying his face into your neck to stave off his orgasm for just a little longer. The obscene squelch of your slick makes his head spin, each roll of your hips making him grunt or groan louder and louder until-

“C-Cumming- cumming-” he rasps, his pulsing length spilling hot, sticky seed deep within your gummy walls. The moan he lets out is downright shameful, his grip on you tightening exponentially.

You gasp quietly at how much he cums and how deep it is, nearly reaching your cervix. You pause for his sake, allowing him to relax against your soft body as he recovers from his high. In attempt to soothe him a little more, you rub his upper back. He grumbles and pushes himself against the back of the booth, huffing. His once-perfect hair has become a bit mussed, likely loosened due to the light sheen of sweat. He can’t seem to look at you as he slips another hundred into the waistband of your panties alongside the three other bills.

“Do you want to-” He gestures to you, still straddling him with his soft dick inside of you. Like a nice man, he wants you to finish, but you know you shouldn’t. It would likely increase the chances of you getting pregnant and you simply can’t have that, birth control implant be damned.

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head softly and get off of him, fixing your underwear as you turn away to give him privacy. He tucks himself in his boxers and zips his pants up before fishing for his now-thinner wallet, though it’s not completely empty yet. If you didn’t know better (and you don’t, he’s a stranger after all,) you’d think he gets off on this kind of thing- his wallet being drained.

Albert hands you three more hundreds and mumbles a quiet “thank you” for your services. It hasn’t even been an hour, but it’s not like he cares. Who wouldn’t want to give their money to someone as pretty as you?

He’s satisfied by the looks of things, his face less red now that he’s calmer and more composed. You take the money happily, watching him walk to the door with a smile on your lips.

“What’s your name, dear?” He looks at you over his shoulder.

“Come back soon and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Albert leaves with that, his dignity shattered and his pride dismantled. 

Weeks later and you’re at home sitting on your couch, watching the news late at night after one of your shifts. You’re barely paying attention, looking through missed calls on your motorola cd930 when you hear a familiar name come up on the missing persons list. The news anchor is reading off a list of names from the most recent tragedy- a mansion exploding in Arklay County, where supposedly some members of the local S.T.A.R.S team got trapped and barely made it out alive (so you’ve heard.)

“Albert Wesker, Joseph Frost, Richard Aiken, Edward Dewey…” The tired man drones on, listing off the rest of the names as pictures start to pop up. Only one face sticks out to you.

“No way,” you sit up straight and lean closer to your television, your eyes focused on Albert’s picture. Save for the sunglasses, that’s him. You’re shocked and honestly a little disheartened. 

In your dreams, you see him again.

[nastyburger]

Please say more about the awful Asian designs in Danny Phantom. I'm not Asian but I'd love to have a rundown on the elements that make them offensive so I can avoid and critique those elements in other works. And also you deserve to speak your mind about it

im gonna mostly talk about southeast asian designs since thats what i am and the most familiar with and also what i feel are the show's worst transgression with their casual depictions. tw for racist imagery im gonna link pictures.

there's not much to say about the designs aside from, you know, everything but things to note are the unnatural yellow tone for the skin and closed slanted eyes. veggie burger (fan name for the bg character in the middle) also suffers from the huge nose that sometimes shows up in racist depictions. the straight edge/cut hair as well is somewhat stereotypical. this one isn't as bad but in conjunction with everything else its not ideal. i will give the smallest molecule of credit that at the very least dp never gave any of these bg characters buck teeth.

some depictions are better than others, but theres still missteps happening in one aspect or another. kwan's eyes in a lot of shots/episodes can be too skinny and even too slanted, the girl in the middle is almost perfect but her skin is too yellow (she looks kinda okay on my computer screen but i remember when watching dp on my tv she looked real brightly yellow), and principle ishiyama (who was weirdly forgotten about pretty early on in the show and was replaced by lancer doing most of the school stuff despite not being principle?? which is a whole other issue with how dp treats its poc characters) the same usual notes about the slanted eyes but also the upturned nose is pretty reminiscent of racist japanese art during ww2. again it is not the worst way to draw a nose but combined with everything else in this show's depiction of asian characters its not great, they are on thin ice man.

not to mention, principle ishiyama is the only character here with brown eyes. this is a problem that extends to all poc characters in dp and to my knowledge i think ishiyama might be the only one with them tbh. this is, again, a whole other issue though.

i think the thing that bothers me most about these designs though is that dp is very clearly aware that these depictions are bad. the only difference between the first set of characters and the second is one singular thing: they have a clear speaking role.

suddenly when theyre not stock background characters, dp knows how to act when drawing them. i cannot for the life of me find the image of it, but the last jock guy in the first set gets a speaking role in reign storm (he's cosplaying phantom) and he is drawn with proper open eyes! (theyre also blue but whatever) it just makes me sad that this was a clear choice they made.

the show also went in a different direction in the final product, but early development stuff was really drawing from a lot of japanese/asian influences like danny was originally gonna have a motorcycle (pulling from ghost in the shell) and was even referenced in the show via the akira motorcycle reference (which i once again, for the life of me, cannot find. danny took johnny 13's motorcycle and did the classic akira slide i think it was in million dollar ghost?? idk whichever one where the giw are trying to blow up the ghost zone). danny's name was originally gonna be jackie, named after jackie chan, this i assume was given to jack fenton afterwards. and i think the show having a more martial arts direction with the action was also gonna be a thing? that one could be wrong dont quote me on that, there was an episode where danny and vlad have like a weird ninja fight though im pretty sure.

either way my point here is that they wanted to pull from all these influences and it was prominent enough during development that they sprinkle references to it throughout the show and yet their portrayal and treatment of asian characters in the show is so abysmal it just feels Bad™, you know? i cant really put it more eloquently than that, like its very take and no give with it.

it overall just puts a bad taste in my mouth, and its sad that it still affects people years later. like i mentioned in the tags of the post that started this discussion with that whole old trend of putting yourself into the bg of dp screenshots, i felt alienated by that. and its not the people who participated's fault obviously but most of the people i saw participating were white fans (going off of how they drew themselves) and it made me a bit mad that they were able to enjoy the style of the show in a more carefree manner than i ever could. i didnt want to ruin anyone's fun obviously, but a small part of me wanted to bring to light how i wasnt on equal ground with them in that situation.

[celestialspecial]

In Cold Blood (pt 1)

Synopsis: A slew of murders have you and the other detectives scratching their heads, but the killer himself seems beyond fascinated with you.

Warnings: This is probably my most warning heavy story- mentions and graphic descriptions of blood/gore, death, murder (serial killer!billy is a giveaway), weapons including gun/knives, home invasion mentions, eventual smut lets just say EVERYTHING IS 18+- read at your own discretion

Tag list: @vermillionwinter , @nerdyreaderpapi

You turned a corner, feet hitting the pavement as fast as they could. Water splashed up from a puddle but it didn’t slow you down. The buzz of traffic didn’t calm your racing heart as you skidded to a stop down a corner alley.

How had this happened? You were so sure of yourself. So careful. At least that’s how it felt. 

It had started innocently enough, well maybe innocent wasn’t the correct choice of words.

It had started with the death of a local businessman. He’d been found in an alleyway, shoved between trash bins. Multiple knife wounds scattered across his torso and neck. You’d been called to investigate the scene with the other officers.

It had left your mouth dry, the other officers you worked with were rarely left speechless but this….this did it. The brutality of it was unmatched from anything you’d investigated before.

Then a few weeks later there was a woman found murdered in a similar fashion, body left in Central Park for anyone to find. Then there was another and another. It made your stomach turn. 

Then you found yourself volunteering to be on the case. To figure out who the bastard was. Why they were doing this. And to put them away for as long as possible. 

The longer you researched and devoted your time and energy to figuring out how to catch the murderer the less it made sense. There was no rhyme or reason or outright motives that stood out to you. Just a building body count.

That’s when you got the first call.

You’d been working from the office late one night, pouring over the latest crumb of evidence you’d been able to scrounge up. A blurry cctv blip of footage capturing a large figure in a black hoodie up over their head leaving the building where the last victim was found.

The noise jolted you from your seat, the blinds drawn in your office and the steady hum of the fluorescent lights overhead wearing away at your eyes. It was late. Very late. No one you knew would be up at this hour. Not unless it was an emergency.

You didn’t recognize the number. So not a friend or relative popping up on caller ID. You let it ring another few times before sighing, with a roll of your eyes and sliding to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Detective Archer.” You felt your body freeze at your name being used. The voice crackled on the other end. Deep. Male. But it was edited somewhat, like he was speaking through some sort of device to conceal his voice. 

“Who is this?”

“Ah ah ah that’s on a need to know basis.”

“And I don’t need to know?” You pushed away from your desk standing to walk over to your closed office door. Peeking through the blinds to see the still empty office.

“I’m not in your office if that’s what you think.” Your blood ran cold as you froze in place, fingers just pulling away from the door.

“Are you…watching me?” Your eyes flitted to the windows on the right side of your office, rushing over and drawing the blinds closed.

“Always.” 

The word hung on the phone line, heavy silence.

“You’re him.”

“There’s a lot of “hims” out there, I’m going to need you to be more specific.” He was taunting you.

“The killer.” Laughter rang out in the other end.

“It took you a little while there, detective. Here I was thinking you were the top of your class.” 

“Why are you calling me?” You moved back to your desk wondering if there was some way you could trace the call from your cell phone. 

“To ask what your favorite scary movie is.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re gonna get.” 

“Come on Detective, play a little game with me.”

“Is that what you think this is?” You hissed into the phone. “A fuckin game?” Your heart pounded in your chest. Rage bubbling up and leeching into your voice.

“It is to me.” 

Then with that the line went dead. You swore, tossing your phone onto your desk falling back into your seat. 

Hands scratching your head, fingers twining furiously through your hair.  Eyes squeezed shut as you’re cursed once more before calling your boss and the rest of your team to alert them to this new development.

Another victim was found a few weeks later, a single stab wound to the chest right over the heart.  A Large Bowie knife was left in the body, with a swath of paper folded and held in place by the weapon.

You talked with witnesses and scribbled into your notes after consulting with another officer before turning on your heel to head back to the office. 

Knowing tonight you’d drink a pot of coffee and review how out of character this kill was from the previous victims. Was this even done by the same person? Did you have another murderer out there to watch out for? It made your head spin.

“Detective, I think you need to see this.” A cop named Thomas motioned you over to him holding out the piece of paper just removed from the victim.

You took the now unfolded paper from him eyes roving the page. A large red heart was drawn on it with blood. Whether it was the victims or someone else’s you couldn’t be sure, but that wasn’t the thing that worried you most.

Inside the heart was writing, scratchy red ballpoint pen spelling out in large letters, “Archer.”  A gift, a love letter, a taunt, you weren’t sure which one it was but it made your blood run cold. 

Hot water poured over your skin in the shower, hoping the scalding heat would strip away the knot in your stomach. Whenever you closed your eyes all you could see was the heart, teasing you.

The paper had been placed in an evidence bag and was now being tested but you couldn’t shake the visual from your head. Turning the water off and reveling in the steam before you wrapped a towel around yourself stepping into the bedroom.

All your scattered notes and random photographs littered your home desk and you were starting to feel pathetic at your lack of purchase on this slippery case. How many people needed to end up dead because you couldn’t do your fucking job?

Then the phone rang. A million thoughts ran through your head before you said fuck it and answered. 

“Hello?”

“Did you get my gift?” 

“You’re sick you know that?” You flipped on the tracer you’d installed on your phone after your last call. 

“Detective, I’m wounded. I gave you a lovely gesture of our relationship.”

“The only relationship we have is going to be when I arrest your ass and put you away for the rest of your life.” 

“I love when you flirt back with me.” 

You rubbed your brow absentmindedly, hating how limited you felt. How you felt like back in training being ridiculed by higher ups. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“I enjoy talking to you, Detective.”

“No. Killing people. Innocent people.”

“Who said they were innocent?”

“Who says you get to be judge, jury and executioner?”

If you stalled long enough it’d give your tracer a better chance of locking onto where the call was coming from. Giving you a shred of further evidence.

“You look very nice tonight.”

Your fist subconsciously gripped your towel tighter to your chest. The curtains in your apartment were drawn, and you had checked the lock over four times out of habit.

“How do you know how I look?” You wedged your phone into the crook of you neck, holding it in place as you reached into the end table pulling out your gun and checking the chamber was full.

“Are you close to catching me, Detective? Have I been occupying as much space in your mind as you do mine?”

You padded slowly down the hall, weapon held firm, pointing into each room as you passed. The heat from the bathroom emanated into the kitchen and you swiveled around the corner poised for an attack.

It never came. 

He was toying with you. He wasn’t here. 

“Why would I be in your head?”

You heard a thump back in your bedroom and the hair on the back of your neck stood up at the sound. The line was silent as you waited for a response, slowly inching back towards your room, gun held aloft.

The only sound you could hear was your own heart thundering in your chest as you eased into the doorway, ears straining to hear any other movement. In a rush if adrenaline you tossed the phone onto the bed throwing open the closet door.

It was empty. 

Keeping with your agitated pace, falling to the floor and checking under the bed only to see it bare as well. Angrily snatching the phone back and biting into the mouthpiece.

“Where the fuck are you?!” 

At that you heard footsteps back from the bathroom, thumping through your apartment and your front door being thrown open, the alarm blaring. 

Scrambling to catch up you stumbled into your living room and were greeted by the open door leading into the hallway of your apartment complex broken open, the chain lock busted and scraping back and forth as it hung limply.

The line went dead and you immediately dialed 911, waiting for a familiar operator to answer as you relayed your predicament. When you heard confirmation they were on the way you rushed back into the bathroom to grab your robe.

There on the mirror was drawn a heart, like that from the note found on the victim. The condensation beaded up as it bled in various water droplets from the remaining steam from the shower. 

The months continued on, all leads turning up nil. The tracer you had used only led you to a discarded burner phone in a trash bin by soho. The murders had briefly slowed down.

The phone calls however had not.

Their length and timing varied but it was always the same voice. Slightly skewed but a man’s voice all the same. It had helped you rule out a female suspect. 

The continued goading wasn’t the main thing grating on your nerves. No it would be much simpler if that was it. The true horror was how you began to wait for the calls. 

You refused to use the term, enjoy. But they no longer caused your blood to run cold in the same way. One day to your absolute dismay after a long stressful meeting you actually felt your shoulders unclench when your phone rang.

“Long day Archer?” 

“How can you ask me that when you’re the source of my stress?”

“Am I?”

Besides the phone calls there was the disturbing hints of affection. A bouquet had appeared at your desk at work one day. No note, but you didn’t need one to know who it was from.

Then a bottle of expensive wine was left on the steps of the precinct with another card bearing only a simplistically drawn heart inside.

The bottle was immediately taken in as evidence and dusted for prints. There obviously were none. No matter what you did he was always ten steps ahead. 5D chess in the most infuriating way. 

“How was the wine?”

“If you’re so aware of my every move you’d know I didn’t drink it.”

“Shame, 1913 was supposedly a good year for that merlot.”

“I’m growing tired of our Hannibal Lecter and Clarice dynamic.”

“Who says that’s what we are?”

“WE are nothing.”

A tsk’ing crackled over the line.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

“Then what are we?”

You put the phone on speaker as you pulled out a container of chinese food leftovers from your fridge. Popping the lid off and shoveling it into a bowl before sliding it into the microwave.

A chuckle came from the other end. You hated how it didn’t feel gross and malicious like it should. 

You continued on, mind listing a slew of options as you watched your food rotate in the microwave.

“Phantom and Christine. Michael Myers and Laurie strode. Billy Loomis and Sidney Prescott.”

“You never did tell me your favorite scary movie.”

you sighed dramatically as the oven dinged and you removed your food, returning it to the counter, pulling your hair into a messy bun.

“You do look stunning Detective. I’m shocked someone of your caliber went into law enforcement.”

“I think it’s unfair you know what I look like and yet Ive never seen you before.”

“Nice try Archer.” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh that shook your shoulders a tad. 

“It was worth a try.”

Walking into work the next morning you were immediately greeted by another detective, John Lawson. His cheeks were ruddy and he seemed to be out of breath.

“What’s going on?”

“We have a photo of our killer.” 

You felt your stomach flip, either from excitement or nerves.

“What?” 

He took out a printed sheet of paper, it showed a dim alleyway and a victim from the other night slumped in the background. 

Sure enough there in the foreground was a man, in a black hoodie, black pants and military boots. The hood pulled up over his head and underneath the hood a stark white mask, covered in a multitude of scratches and cracks that seemed to be painted on.

He was staring straight at the camera, knife glinting in one hand, the other raised in a mock wave.

“Smug bastard.”

[oxymorayuri]

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝟽

𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠 »

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐿𝑎𝑤 ✘ ♀ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Story: The princess of Tanata

(Long Fic)

➽ Click on this link to see all chapters.

Spoiler: none

Warnings: none

slowburn with plot

Wordcount: 2826

Text in italics emphasizes the reader’s thoughts

Bold and italic text emphasizes Law's thoughts *~*

You sneakily slide into the Hera Palace as if you didn't want to be discovered. On your way you get surprised looks from the servants because you are acting a bit suspicious rather than hiding well...

Curiously you look into the fireplace room and your eyes roam over the empty room, which is a bit messy. No one was awake yet, that's for sure.. It's quite early and who knows how long the pirates had fun yesterday. You lean against the door frame, feeling a little sad... You are sure that you will not find any of your guests there. At least not anyone who is awake, because you can hear soft snoring coming from your side.

Carefully you follow the noise and look behind the table, in front of the fireplace. You hold your breath briefly as you see the polar bear sleeping peacefully in front of the fireplace. Quietly you lean over the mink while absolutely enjoying this cute view. Every sound that leaves the furry lips enchants you a little more. You don't even notice how someone enters the fireplace room and approaches you.

"Oh.. Good morning princess!" A bright female voice greets you with a surprised tone. You quickly turn around with your finger pressed to your lips and silently gesture with your head towards the bear. The young woman immediately understands what you are meaning. She quietly placed the basket that she was holding, on the table next to you. With soft steps she comes closer to admire the big bear together with you, which is rolling back and forth in peace.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” you whisper to the maid with a reddened face. She nods at you with hearts in her eyes. Behind you you can hear other servants going about their everyday duties and all the commotion causes the bear to wake up with a start. The first thing the Mink sees is you, leaning over him, looking at him in a lovestruck state. The bear blushes a little in surprise and rubs his face.

“Good morning.” you greet him with a friendly smile, which makes the polar bear blush even more.

"G-g- good morning!!!" the bear crawls away from you, somewhat embarrassed. Giggling, you straighten yourself and go to the couch to fall into it.

"You seem to have fallen asleep." - "hehe yeah it was so cozy in front of the fire.." The bear admits sheepishly. No one can take away your grin when you look at the bear. You would like to dress him in the most beautiful fabrics instead of having him wear such a strange suit. You rest your chin on one hand while sitting calmly on the sofa.

A loud rumble draws attention to Bepo's stomach, whose head is now as red as a tomato.

"Hmm, someone seems hungry!" you clap your hands together. "Camille, please have a sumptuous breakfast brought to the fireplace room." - "Uhhh, yes of course my highness but why don't you eat in the dining room?" - "Hmm, I just find it more comfortable here." Camille looks at you a little questionably after looking through the chaotic room. You just grin at her carefree.

The chaos doesn't bother you at all. If anything, you find it very pleasant that some life and chaos appear in this perfect castle...

The mess feels better.

With sparkling eyes and saliva at the corner of his mouth, the bear examines the breakfast feast.

"Go for it." you encourage him. The Mink doesn't need to be told twice and jumps in and tries out a wide variety of delicacies, that the chefs have prepared. You happily put your teacup to your lips while you watch him eat with pleasure.

One by one, pirates came into the room and joined you when you called them over. The pirates started their meal happily.

Camille, who always made sure that food was brought, almost couldn't keep up because the pirates finished the plates in no time.

"Luffy would clear the table in milliseconds." Nami remarks. You sense sorrow in her voice and look up from your teacup to her.

"Luffy…" you whisper to yourself. You remember what you saw in him. The battle of the pirates against the marines. How someone very important died right in front of his eyes... You felt this pain.. His pain! which was almost worse than the pain from the poison.

"I should go to him right after breakfast and see how he's doing." you tell Nami. “I’m coming with you!” interjects Chopper. After a very entertaining breakfast with the pirates, you decide to go to the Strawhat with Chopper.

However, before you entered the pirate's room, the door opened and Law came towards you. You greet the dark haired man in surprise. A closer look at him and you see dark circles under his eyes. His eyes rested on you for a moment before quickly finding another spot to look at.

"If you want to check the Strawhat, you don't have to do that anymore. I healed a few bruises and checked his organs. He's doing great and sleeps peacefully." He finishes his sentence quite quickly.

"Thank you Law." your genuine smile and little bow make Law freeze. He seems surprised why you're thanking him but doesn't say anything else.

"You should go down to the others and have breakfast." you try to keep the conversation going but you get no answer, just a slight nod. Beeeeetter than nothing - you think.

You quickly went back to the royal palace for breakfast with your family.

"Y/n, I would like you to go to the guests' ship today with a small group and write up a report. If you have an idea about how we can get the ship into the city, then don't hesitate to take the necessary steps. " Said Grandfather while making honey in his tea.

His gaze first over the tea, he went to Zelos. "Please prepare a small group that will accompany y/n. I want you to make Admiral Ambrosios head of the squad."

Your uncle reacts a bit confused and offended. "Father, I'm y/n's uncle and have always been her escort... It's..." before your uncle can continue whining, the king waves him away "I need you for something more important." As he speaks his last word, Zelos devours the words on his tongue. Your grandfather looks carefully across the room. The servants scurry around the room from time to time, filling up empty glasses, clearing away empty plates or waiting at each side to attend to our wishes upon request.

"I wish to speak to my family in private." He spoke a bit louder and all the servants left the dining room.

He clasped his hands together and looked at us with a serious expression this time.

"Last night a couple of runners* saw another ship floating around the island. They don't seem to be particularly close but the report says they are steadily circling the island." Firmly you cling to the armrest with both hands as your grandpa speaks. Zelos is silent and listens attentively.

"They are watching us but we don't know who is watching us." Delia makes a horrified noise and with her fingers in front of her mouth she carefully asks what that means. You can tell that the king is trying to choose his words carefully so as not to cause panic.

"I can't say for sure… I just want this information to stay between us for now." suddenly your grandfather looks at you with an intense gaze. You already know that the last sentence is especially meant for you. You look at him nervously "Hehe... yeah… I promise to the gods I won't spill anything." You look away ashamed. "So far... only the runners, Anatol and you know about it. The reason why you won't accompany y/n in the forest is because you will go south to the ancient ruins with a group chosen by me, and there you will build a temporary base." Delia looks up worriedly at Zelos, who looks determinedly into his father's eyes. "Of course my king." You look from your uncle to your grandfather, a little scared.

"I know it's a bad time..." His voice seems softer than before as he looks at Delia. "...but I assure you, my dearest, that I am not preparing to attack. Just a precaution. If we're lucky, they'll just circle the island, looking for a way out of the storm." - "I pray to the gods." Delia exhales with some relief again.

"I want you to head straight to Anatol after breakfast to put together the team for the ship recovery. He will also give you more details about the ship that was spotted. Then make your way to the ruins, with unit 7." - "Of course." Zelos answers firmly and salutes him.

"It's important that our guests' ship is recovered before anyone else sets foot on this island. Let's make it look like this island is deserted..." The three of you nod to the king.

Even if silence isn't a sound, it echoes through the room.

Your grandfather's sharp gaze makes you flinch and small beads of sweat run down your forehead.

“Back to you, my child.” You watch him quietly as he cracks his fingers.

"We'll have to ask a few questions later over tea with your guests. I don't want to insinuate anything, but it's a bit suspicious that another ship shows up shortly after they got here." He watches you carefully as you swallow hard.

"Yeah, I understand. Of course that's understandable."

You continue with your breakfast in silence and a little tensely. No one really knows what to think of the situation.

You exhale heavily and fall onto your bed.

The thoughts make your brain melt as you stare at the ceiling.

Damn it!

You put an arm over your closed eyes and try to sort out your thoughts. Inwardly you pray that the pirates aren't hiding anything and therefore aren't a danger to you.

You have to think about all the different people, about Nami's sad face and how friendly everyone seems. You think how exhausted the group was and how grateful each and every one of them was.

It's tearing you apart... Especially because you understand why your grandfather thinks that way.

He thinks like a king.

You sit up and go to your dressing table to distract yourself a bit.

Luckily I'll never become queen.

You admit to yourself in front of the mirror while combing your hair.

You would probably make the wrong decision.

Grandfather is always in control. He is always so calm and confident despite all the crises. As you think about what an praiseworthy king your grandfather is, you think of your mother. You carefully pick up the picture in front of you.

What would you do mom? Would you have helped the pirates?

It hurts you that you will never get an answer.

On the way to tea with your grandfather and the pirates, you come across Nami, Sanji, Zoro, Law and the Polar Bear.

Nami waves happily at you and you take your dress in your hands and run over to them.

"Hey guys! Are you the ones drinking tea with me and Grandpa?" Nami nods at you with a grin and Sanji moves between you and her to get on his knees.

"You look ravishing again, my highness. As if created by the gods." He places thousands of small kisses on the back of your hand. You stare rigidly at him while one of your eyebrows twitches uncontrollably.

"Sanji time out!" Nami shouts and punches him.

"Uhm, princess?" says the bear, a little shyly.

"My name is Bepo and I wanted to thank you for the wonderful breakfast..." You can't believe these bright people could be bad people who would intentionally put us in danger. You don't know why, but your gut just screams that they are good people.

Hopefully you aren't blinded by your curiosity.

"I'm very glad you enjoyed it, Bepo." You lightly stroke the bear's arm.

"Well then... are you ready to meet my king?" With both arms on your hips, you stand in front of the group and they nod resolutely at you.

When you arrive at the pavilion, you see that the king is not there yet. The servants set the table and assign the guests their seats. You take your usual seat at the short end of the table and look a little nervously at the empty seat across from you. The King's seat.

Your nervous looks don't go unnoticed and Law, who's sitting to your right, clears his throat.

"Does the king know we are pirates?" You look at him in surprise.

"I strongly assume that he knows. I found out yesterday that nothing goes unnoticed by him." A little tired at the thought of last night's dinner, you stretch your arms forward and place your chin in both of your hands.

"I advise you not to lie or hide important things. I have no idea how he aaaaaaalways knows everything, if it's not clairvoyant abilities then I don't know what is." At the end of your sentence, you look sideways at Law, waiting for his answer.

"I see, we'll keep that in mind."

After a short while and some tense small talk, your grandfather finally appears. You promptly get up from your seat and the others do the same after you give them a small hand gesture. The king goes to his seat and looks at you all with an unreadable expression.

"I greet you, my dear guests." - "I greet you, my king."

You give your counterpart a slight bow and the others mumble a little hello and bow too. Your guests look at you somewhat questioningly because they don't quite know what to do while everyone is standing. "Take a seat." At the king's words you take a seat and the others follow suit. The king inspects the guests while the servants set the table and pour each one a tea of their choice. The calming scent of your tea lets you breathe in deeply. You're just waiting for the king to start the conversation.

"My name is Leandros and I am the King of Tanata." He says with pride.

“Please introduce yourselves.” One by one they introduced themselves to the king and you looked from face to face a little tensely.

"As you may have guessed, there is a reason why I called you here. Aside from wanting to introduce myself and get to know you, there is something we should discuss." And with this introduction the conversation began. The king asked those present a few questions to get an idea of the crew and when his mind was satisfied, he revealed the problem.

"You have to consider how striking it seems to me that another ship is circling the island... It's been a few years since we had "visitors" and now we've had them twice." You can tell the pirates don't really know who it could be. They admitted that they cannot rule out the possibility that they were being followed.

You look to your right again and watch as Law looks thoughtfully into the distance.

"I still can't imagine how anyone could have followed us from the battlefield. Our ship is a submarine and we were so deep in the sea that it's actually impossible." The king thoughtfully strokes his beard.

You're glad that the situation has developed in a good direction. It is clear that your grandfather does not suspect the pirates. Their explanation seems plausible so far and you hope that he believes in their innocence too. With the experience and knowledge of the pirates, you discuss the topic with the foreign ship.

“Can you tell what kind of ship it is?” Nami asks.

"So far the runners have not been able to identify anything more precise. What is certain is that it is not a ship of the marines."

The conversation went better than expected and your posture became more and more relaxed. The king asked a few questions out of interest in the pirates and their story, which were answered without hesitation and pure honesty.

Suddenly the king's butler came running.

"My king. Please excuse the interruption, but I have something to tell the princess!" Giles bowed deeply to the king.

"Rise and speak Giles."

Before the butler turned to you, he bowed again.

"The boy is awake!" he said somewhat panicked.

*= A unit that observes the island and surrounding areas

If u liked the chapter let me know in the comments :3

See you next time, kiss kiss ♡

➽ Next chapter

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

Requested Ship: SangYu

Requester: TheLadyLudovica on twitter

The Whump Wheel chose... Migraines!

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

Even though he still had to keep quiet enough not to draw attention to himself, Mo Xuanyu made his way through the halls as quickly as he could.

Even though Nie-xiong always forgave him when it happened, he hated it whenever his... his "lessons" made him late for their usual appointment for tea.

And it wasn't just for the fact that meeting with Nie-xiong meant much more food than he usually got for a meal. He genuinely adored Nie-xiong's company, and Nie-xiong genuinely seemed to like him as well.

Him! Of all people!

Red-faced, and not just from having to cross the grounds of Koi-tower so quickly, he skidded to a halt in front of Nie-xiong's guest room and knocked.

"Come in," came the reply from inside.

Nie-xiong's voice sounded weirdly thin and exhausted, and Mo Xuanyu frowned when he opened the sliding door and found the room to be dark.

Dark dark, the kind of darkness that could only be achieved at this level of Koi Tower at this time of day with the help of talismans.

"Is... is everything okay? Are you sure you wouldn't rather me come back later? If you're busy with something, I-"

"It's fine, Yu-er. Just one of my headaches is all."

Oh. He'd never seen one of Nie-xiong's pain spells in person before, but he'd heard about how awful they could get from Yao-ge.

Slipping into the room, he quickly closed the door so the light from outside would be cut off. Then he carefully pulled a small light talisman from his sleeve and activated it, but covered it with his sleeve to dim how much light it put out.

Now that he could at least somewhat see, he found that Nie-xiong was curled up in a ball on the bed, clad only in sleep robes and with one of the blankets wadded up and covering his head.

Wincing in sympathy, he approached the bed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Mrgh."

He had to bite his lip to hide a smile at the utterly resigned tone of the groan, then looked around.

There was a tea tray with several small vials and jars of medication... probably sent by Yao-ge. Also a bowl of water that had long gone from hot to tepid, with some cloths for soaking.

He hadn't gotten very good with using heat talismans yet, but he could at least manage that much, so he brought the bowl back to steaming and dunked one of the rags in and wrung it out, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

Nie-xiong made no effort to fight him when he tugged the mess of blanket away, and only hissed softly as the hot cloth was wrapped around the back of his neck to loosen up the painful-looking tension he was carrying in most of his upper body.

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"Some plain steamed buns," Nie-xiong mumbled, tilting his head to welcome the feeling of Mo Xuanyu carefully petting his hair.

"Okay. I'll stay with you until you get hungry again, then we can eat together, yeah?"

Nie-xiong rested his head in his lap like a particularly miserable cat. "Yeah. That sounds good."

Safely hidden in the dark, Mo Xuanyu couldn't help the smile that crossed his mouth as he continued running his fingers through long hair.

[risustravelogue]

today as well, the sun was hiding in liyue’s harbor, and the teahouse was mostly empty save for a few passerby who had to take shelter from the sudden downpour. the ticking of the clock was slowly but surely lulling a certain establishment's owner to sleep — that is, until the sound of the store's front door sliding open entered her ears.

meirin yawned, “welcome to— uh. wriothesley?” she raised her eyebrows at the unexpected visitor and stood up from her seat, her eyes looking around, “huh. rare of you to come by yourself. where’s risu? oooh, are you here to buy her a present—”

“help me find her.”

“huh?”

the woman’s sleepiness melted away into worry. it was then she noticed the distress lining the duke’s face, his expression matching the gloomy weather outside.

“…. let’s talk more inside,” her expression turning serious, she ushered the fontainian into one of the private room, before momentarily patting her geo vision, sending a soft pulse of energy to alert her husband, “i’ll need more details.”

@i23kazu - here you go. my first entry. or entries, I guess. I really hope these count... haha

1/2 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1/2 = 5 drawings & 411 words

00. home(?)

She woke up to a BANG.

“Ugh…” she groaned, annoyed at whatever—whoever—made that loud noise. She reached for her glasses and found them on the bedside table. She put them on and…

“... Where am I?”

Another BANG, and she yelped in surprise. She tried to stand up, only for her legs to give away. She fell onto the tatami floor with a thud.

“The heck…” she cursed. Loud footsteps came from outside the room, and it got closer with every step until—

The sliding door suddenly opened, revealing a big man with a long, bushy mane of silver hair and…

… two red horns?

“Are you okay?” he asked. She balked when he knelt down to help her up.

“Stay back!” she shouted, fists balled in a defensive stance. “Who are you?”

One of the horned man’s eyebrows rose.

“Whoa! Huh? You don’t know me? Hmm… You must not be from around here, then!” he said, somewhat enthusiastically. He stood up and flexed his muscles—much to her confusion.

“For I am Arataki ‘The One And Oni’ Itto!”

he declared proudly.

“...”

“...”

Itto sighed.

“You really have never heard of me, huh. Then you must not be from Inazuma at all.”

She frowned. “No, I am from Sumeru.”

“Really?” Now it was his turn to frown. “You look more like someone from Liyue.”

She shook her head. “All of my grandparents did come from Liyue.”

“I see,” Itto pondered. “What’s your name, miss? And how old are you?”

Her frown deepened as she studied the strange oni’s smiling face.

He seems earnest, at least.

“I’m Kurisu,” she said. “And pray tell, why do you want to know how old I am?”

Itto flashed a toothy grin.

“I want to know if I should call you onee-san or imouto-chan,” he chuckled. She recognized the terms—the first one is Inazuman for ‘older sister,’ and the second means ‘younger sister.’

“Fine,” she sighed. A small smile bloomed on her lips. This oni is adorable.

“I’m ✕⭘. How old are you, Itto?”

“Oh! I win!” he exclaimed, and knelt down to ruffle her hair. “I’m ✕☐! I’ll call you imouto-chan, then!”

She pushed the oni’s hand away, a giggle escaping her lips. “You know, it’s rude to ruffle a stranger’s hair.”

A slight pink tinted his cheeks. “You’re so cute, though,” he said.

She winced.

“... I’ve never heard anyone but my mom say it,” she mumbled. Her face went red and her chest grew warm.

“... Thanks, Itto.”

[dorkdaycamp]

The gloves and makeup always felt different every time you put it on- cakey and heavy. Honestly you would have stopped donning the rainbow wig ages ago had this not just kept working each time. The old pie in the face trick- baked and decorated immaculately. In another life, you might have been a baker. Here though, you were good at hiding every last lethal touch in the pie. It rose high enough- concealing a small knife under the whipped cream- precariously pointed upwards. At the bottom of the tin, under the cherry filling (just normal cherry filling to hide any unsightly viscera, of course,) was a puddle of superglue, meant to help adhere the tin to the target's face and buy you more time to flee. Further, the whipped cream atop it all was home-made. Your mother's recipe, orange rind adorning and imparting a sweet slightly cirtussy taste to it all. Although she didn't poison it. Sometimes you think it better if she had. Not all your targets deserved it, maybe. But maybe you were paid enough to not care if that mattered. Nobody questioned the clown stripped arriving at a business soiree or a birthday party, and few and far between were eager enough to say that their beloved boss or partner died as the result of excessive clownery. The booty shorts were the hardest part of the getup to slide into. You'd pack a water pistol into the front of it every time, to really get the crowd going. It had two chambers and two triggers, carefully designed to not draw much attention between shooting water and shooting lighter fluid. Your top was a polka dotted blazer, usually worn over the shoulders to tease and excite while remaining somewhat professional. The pockets, as well, carried your reperrtoire for the actual tricks and gags you would play. Both were bulletproof, for your protection. Today's target was no different. Just another nameless CEO of some company hosting a get together. You pinged into the office and the crowd roared as you walked in. Nobody remembered ordering the stripper clown, but nobody really cared. You just wanted to get out of the stuffy office air as quickly as possible and tracked them down. The gelled back hair and indoor sunglesses were the dead giveaway. You slid the pie out of your jacket and spoke in the silliest voice you could muster. "So! You must be the special guy for the occasion! I've just been PIEing to meet you!" You put one hand behind their head as they sat at their table- your other hand slamming the pie right into their face. They laughed, right before they went quiet. You feigned a laugh too, even as you positioned them just so to look like they were just playing into the joke. You removed your hands as the crowd laughed. "I forgot some of my tools in my car, you lot have fun up here, I'll be right back!" You trotted off. The laughter grew quieter as you went back down the elevator. You weren't sure if it was their realization, or just them moving further away. You tied a little red balloon dog in the balloon and left it on the receptionist's desk as you walked out. The next day the news broke like every other time. Newspapers reporting it, but just saying it a mysterious person walked in. Each newspaper had a different description of the suspect, and the cause of death was usually listed unknown. A part of you hated how easy it was. The other part wished a single one of them- any of them- at least would mention how immaculately you tied balloons or did your gags. Maybe you should just be a clown.

You are an assassin with a reputation for pulling of very public hits without being noticed. You achieve this not by being extremely stealthy, but by making sure that your kills are so absurd and ridiculous that no one would ever believe the witnesses if they told their stories.

[pineappleciders]

hi! im not sure if you did this request already but could you do RW mari, aubrey, hero, and kel walking in on the reader doing SH? idk it will make me very happy since they are my comfort characters and i deal with that stuff and all, but its okay if not! dont sweat it!

CONTENT WARNING: self-harm, blood, suicide blades that kind of thing

A/N: hi anon, i've done similar requests with different characters that you can check out in my masterlist if you'd like!! this is also assuming the SH is cutting, i apologize if it's something else! im also sorry if kel or heros part seems rushed or short i was tired

RW MARI, AUBREY, HERO, and KEL walking in on reader s/hing

MARI

"I'm sorry, may I be excused?"

You were having dinner with MARI and her family. They considered you a close family friend, so often times you'd be spending time with MARI and SUNNY at their home.

Something was said at the dinner table that night.

Getting up and pushing your chair in, you rush up the stairs and close the bathroom door behind you.

Sitting on the toilet, you dig around your bag to find the blade you more often than not carried with you. Not like you planned to do this all the time, but it was helpful to have one on hand.

You hiss and exhale as you cut, and you use the rag in your backpack to slow the bleeding. After all, you wouldn't want to stain their towels or waste any paper.

You hear somewhat loud talking downstairs, and you can make out MARI's voice. She seemed upset, but nobody was yelling. You tear up as you realize she was probably upset with her father for the comment he made. You knew she cared too much. You know she sees right through you.

The talking stops, and footsteps come up the stairs and stop at the bathroom.

"Y/N, can I come in?"

In any other situation, this probably would've been strange for her to ask to come into the bathroom with you. But she knows you better than anyone. You cover up and put your things away.

"Yeah, come in.."

MARI creaks open the door, slides it, and locks it shut. She turns to you, and you stand up. "Y/N, are you alright?" She places her hands on your shoulders.

You blink to hold back your tears. "Yeah.. I'm okay." She sighs and hugs you.

"I'm.. I'm really sorry. He didn't mean to say that, he doesn't think before he speaks sometimes.." MARI wanted to be angry at her dad, but she knew it wasn't worth it.

Pushing your face into her shoulder, you sigh. "MARI, can.. can you help me?" Your eyes dart down to your arm. You didn't want to, but it was bleeding and you needed to stop it.

"Oh, dear.." She takes a cloth from the rack and asks you to roll up your sleeve, to which you comply. She presses it onto the wound gently and holds it.

"Here, hold this. Let me grab some sterile strips," she says, worry in her voice. As she rummages through the cabinet, you can't help but let a few tears fall. This is incredibly embarrassing.

You wanted to go home.

The bleeding stopped, and she bandaged your arm and put disinfectant gel on the wounds. After rolling your sleeve back down, she looked at you deeply in the eye.

"Y/N, I know I can't fix everything, but please talk to me next time instead of doing this. I really don't like seeing you sad."

You could tell MARI wanted to cry, but she kept herself strong for your sake. You've always felt you didn't deserve your friends, but right now you especially felt MARI was too good for you. She didn't deserve to witness this.

She hugged you tightly. "I love you a lot, Y/N. I don't want you to hurt yourself. I'll always be here for you, okay?"

You teared up more and nodded, squeezing her back. "Yeah.. thank you. I love you too."

AUBREY

You quickly open the door to the park bathroom, using the intersex/family one as it was often less crowded than the other ones.

Opening one of the blue stalls, you lock it and sit down on the toilet. Public restrooms were always gross, but you didn't really pay any mind to it. At least, not right now. As you reach into your sock, you examine the drawings and writings on the stall wall. Silly things, doodles, words in a language you didn't know, so on and so forth.

Refocused, you take the razor out of your sock. Today was a day you knew something would happen. Something would go wrong. Something always does. As you make the first swipe, the door opens and someone walks in, with light footsteps. You put your feet up on the toilet and hope they don't try your stall.

You don't hear anything in particular after that. You assume they left, or maybe they're distracted in the mirror. You let your feet down.

Thirty seconds later, you hear a voice you very clearly recognize.

"AUBREY! Come check this out!" The voice of KIM, one of AUBREY's hooligan friends, shouts out. At the sound of AUBREY's name, you freeze up. Did she notice you?

A few seconds pass, and you hear talking outside the bathroom door. It opens, and you don't think you could get sweatier.

"Look at this drawing!" KIM snickered, and AUBREY scoffed. You almost sigh in relief that they haven't seen you yet. You assume that the drawing they're looking at is something inappropriate. Classic KIM.

"Heh. Check out this one, it's really good." AUBREY seemed to point out another drawing, earning an 'oooo' from KIM.

"Well, I'm gonna piss. You can wait for me outside with ANGEL." AUBREY walks away, right into the stall besides you. You hear KIM leave the bathroom.

You thought you were nervous before. This is a whole new level.

What do you do? Do you continue? Do you leave? No, AUBREY's friends will most definitely see you. Do you say something? No way! You don't want to talk right now. You decide to wait it out.

Your shoes are still on the floor from your freeze-up earlier, and you consider putting them up, but AUBREY will sense your movement. Stay still, and she won't see you.

"Y/N?"

Fuck! She saw you!

"AUBREY? Hey.." You try your best to keep your voice composed, but you can't keep it up for long.

"Were you here the entire time?" She asks, and you chuckle. "Yeah.. didn't wanna interrupt."

A moment of silence passes.

"You okay?" She questions.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm chill." You play with the blade in your lap.

Another moment of silence.

"Okay, do you wanna come hang out with me and everyone else? We were gonna head to GINO's."

"Oh, no, I'm good. I have stuff to do, so.."

Yet another moment of silence. It breaks when you hear AUBREY flush, and open her stall door, her feet stopping at yours.

"Can I, uh... can I come in?"

You panic. "Uh, I'm, uhh.. shitting.."

"Your pants aren't down." You've been busted.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you oblige and unlock the door for her. She steps in, her eyes somewhat averted in the case that you actually were pooping or something.

She looks at you, and you forget you're holding a blade, with a cut seeping blood on your arm. "Holy shit! Are you okay?!" AUBREY freaks out a little, getting closer to you.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Uh.." You fail to find an excuse as AUBREY connects the dots and takes hold of your wrist.

Her eyebrows furrow, and for a second you think she might yell at you. But, she doesn't.

"Fuck, okay, I have a band-aid on me- It won't do much but it's all I got, uh, here let's put some toilet paper on that," AUBREY stumbles to form sentences as she rips off a wad of paper and gently presses it to your wound, still having hold on your wrist with the other hand.

You awkwardly look to the side. "Y/N, I-.. You can talk to me, y'know that, right? We're-we're best friends, I've always.." She sighs, giving up on trying to say anything.

You notice that she seems frustrated, and you nearly break down. Why did you always make people take care of you? Can't you fend for yourself?

AUBREY seems to realize she's making you feel bad, so she regains her composure and leans down to hug you, keeping one hand pressing the paper onto your arm. "I'm sorry. I.. I understand. I don't.. understand everything but.. I understand the urge."

Your eyes burn and you can't help but lean in, taking a whiff of her. She smells surprisingly good. Not in a bad way or anything, but, usually delinquents don't smell like conditioner.

She sighs yet again and leans back up, removing the toilet paper and making sure the cut has stopped bleeding, before applying the band-aid vertically, as if it were a steri strip. She takes a moment to form her words before speaking, a habit MARI had taught her as to not fumble while talking.

"Listen. I know it's been so hard.. But, please, this isn't the right thing to do. It seems like it now, but, it'll only make it worse. Can.. can you tell me next time? If- If you need help, or something.. just call me. I'll be here ASAP." She places her hand on your shoulder while talking, a look of worry on her face.

You blink away any tears that formed, and nod. You want to thank her, but nothing comes out. But, she seems to understand. She seems to know what you want to say.

"Do you.. need some time? That, uh... GINO's offer still stands." She puts her hands in her pockets and looks away sheepishly. A light smile adorns your face, and you chuckle. "Hah, yeah, I'll come. Thank you."

You weren't necessarily saying thank you in response, but you think she knows that. She smiles and takes your hand. "Let's go."

HERO

A patterned knock at your bedroom door sounded throughout the room, filling you with panic.

"Hey, Y/N? Can I come in? I made some pancakes." HERO's voice rang and the door creaked open, as he peeked his head in.

HERO and KEL had decided to spend the night at your place, and they slept in your living room, as your room was far too small to house two people. Unbeknownst to them, you had unintentionally stayed up all night.

You weren't sure why, but you had a total breakdown. Maybe due to seeing your friends again, maybe something else. You're not sure, but it happened. And it just so happens that HERO walked into your room as you were taking care of it.

He stops when he sees you bleeding with a boxcutter in your hand. After hesitating, he quickly sets the breakfast tray down and runs to get presumably medical supplies. He comes back quickly, with a towel and a first-aid kit.

He rushes over to you, and you're still in a state of shock. How do you explain this to him? What if KEL walks in? What if your parents come home? What if he tells-

Your thoughts are interrupted by HERO placing the warm, wet washcloth to your wounds. He had taken the blade away while you were distracted. You're kind of pissed that he asked to come in but came in anyway, despite you not answering. Maybe he thought you were asleep.

The look on his face is sweaty and panicky.

"Hey, u-uh.." He tries to say something, but instead he removes the towel to see the bleeding has stopped, and immediately puts ointment on the wounds and bandages them with gauze.

Nothing can describe how HERO feels right now. This, this was his chance. His chance to help for once.

He.. he had been too late with MARI. But now that he knows you're hurting, maybe, just maybe, he can do better this time.

He sets down the kit and awkwardly sits next to you on the bed. He wants to hug you, but he isn't sure that he should. His eyes keep darting to your wrapped arm.

You avert your gaze, and for a moment an awkward silence fills the air.

When he was patching you up, he had been so hasty, so quickened and anxious. You can only assume why.

He wanted to save you. He wanted to help. You yourself had always blamed yourself for MARI's suicide, but you could only imagine how HERO felt.

"Listen, Y/N.." HERO tries to speak again, but tears prick his eyes. At this point, you feel like you should be comforting him. He takes a few deep breaths and gathers his thoughts.

"Y/N, I.. I know things have been rough these past few years. And, I'm sorry I left for college. I know you and the others have been going through a lot, and.. and I feel like I messed up. It was my responsibility to be there for you all." HERO is playing with his fingers and looking at his lap.

You feel awful. He was always one to blame himself when things went awry.

He sighs. "But.. I'm here now. I care for you and the others a lot.. So please know I'm here for you. Even.. even when I have to go back to school, you can phone me anytime. Or, you could talk to KEL, or-or.. maybe SUNNY. He's a great listener.. They-.. They care for you a lot. Even if they don't show it. We all do."

You feel yourself about to cry. You didn't want to subject anyone to anything that they didn't have to see. They didn't deserve you.

You can't help but reminisce of all the times HERO has been there for you. It wasn't often, but whenever you needed an ear, HERO was there. And you were there for him. He was almost like a big brother.

You wipe your eyes, and he finally pulls you into a hug, patting your head and rubbing it.

"I'm here, OK? We all are."

You cry into his shirt and grip it, and he holds you tight. It had been so long since you've had a HERO hug.

Eventually you pull away and he smiles at you. "You still want pancakes? I can re-heat the food if you'd like." He suggests, eyeing your plate. He was planning to bring you breakfast in bed.

You smile as well. "I'd like that."

KEL

You sit in your chair in your room, a razor blade in hand. You were really going to do this again, weren't you? You couldn't help it. Not under stress.

With each swipe, you hold a towel to ease the bleeding, then continue. You weren't sure how your parents hadn't noticed the blood stains all over your laundry. Maybe they did, but haven't brought it up yet.

Hearing a few voices downstairs, you grow uneasy, and your nervousness grows as you hear footsteps come up the stairs. If that was your father, you wouldn't hear the end of it. Your door was locked, though.

Or at least, you think it is.

A couple loud knocks at your door make you jump, and a sing-songy voice rings your ears.

"Oh, Y/N!! Guess what I have!!!" Your heart drops at the voice of your friend KEL. Oh dear.. now was not the time.

You don't respond. Maybe your best bet was to tell him to leave or say 'not right now', but your brain told you to freeze, and that's what you did.

"Y/N? Are you in there?" He says, his voice growing a but quieter. He tests the door, and you're fucked. A bright looking KEL stands in your doorway.

"There you are! Guess what I...." His voice trails off, and his grip on one of the older CAPT. SPACEBOY comics loosens in his grip. You turn to him and try to cover up.

"KEL? Hey, man.. Uh..." You try to say to come back another time, but he's already seen it.

His face grows with worry. "Are you okay?" He sounds genuinely concerned, and it tugs at your heart strings. You don't know what to say.

He very slowly walks into your room, setting the comic book on your dresser and approaching you in your chair, looking down at you.

His height is almost intimidating from this angle. Almost.

"Do.. do you need help?" KEL was a little unsure how to go about this situation. On one hand, he wanted to help you mentally, to talk it out and get you help. On the other, he wanted to run away. To leave you to your own. But he won't do that.

No, you need help.

You want to cry.

He skips away a bit, and starts running to your bathroom to grab stuff. "I'll be right back!" He shouts.

Returning with a couple Hello Kitty themed band-aids, and anti bacterial ointment, he kneels down.

"Can.. Can I touch you?"

You have to congratulate KEL for maturing. Although it might not seem like it from the outside, KEL's changed a lot. He's more aware of personal space now, you note.

You nod and try to avert your eyes as he applies the ointment and puts the band-aids over your wounds to close them up. He lingers on one knee after he's done, and starts chewing his cheek. You can see the gears turning in his head.

"I, um.. do you wanna talk about it?" KEL really wanted to know how you felt. He wanted to help, he wanted to know what was making you hurt yourself. But he just couldn't ask.

Your bottle bursts and you start to cry. He immediately wraps his arms around you once you fall into his chest, ranting and sobbing.

You really didn't care if he didn't get a word you said. You were so grateful to have someone like him in your life, and you couldn't express it enough.

He lets you talk, and doesn't say a word. Small, simple pats and rubs of your back and knowing he hears you is enough comfort. KEL never liked it when people cried.

You sit up and wipe your face, noticing the snot and tears on KEL's shirt. Oops..

"Hey.. I.. I know we're all struggling. These past few years have been rough, and I know.. I know you have your own problems. So anytime you want to, you can talk to me. Or just hang out. Or, I don't know, we can do.. whatever. But, um, when you wanna do this again, let me know, OK?" He takes a breath.

"I, uh.. I know I don't say it often, but I really care about you. A lot. So, please talk to me." He ends his sentence with a soft smile, and you can see his eyes full of hurt.

You tear up again and hug him. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Thank you, KEL."

He gives a genuine smile, and you swear he lights up a room with his face. "Of course. Now, about that comic!"

[homo-rashi]

Light Yagami Has A Piss Kink.

*+:｡.｡ read it on Ao3 ｡.｡:+*

One cannot explain what goes through one's mind when locked up in a jail cell with little to no interaction besides a voice through a speaker on the wall or the unknown hand that brings you breakfast, lunch and dinner. So when Light Yagami started to exhibit somewhat strange activity a few weeks into his surveillance to clear his name of being Kira, L wasn't too concerned.

Light would mumble to himself, nothing to be concerned about. Just words of boredom to keep his swirling mind somewhat entertained as the hours passed day in and day out. That was normal and to be expected. What was not to be expected was the sudden onslaught of restroom usage by the young wannabe detective. L figured it was due to boredom, over consumption of the one thing that was constantly available to Light, water. He would pee multiple times a day, sipping from the sink in the room every thirty minutes. L figured maybe it was a may to keep some resemblance of time in the windowless room, That was until Lights bathroom habits started to become rather complicated.

The first day it happened, L was half heartedly paying attention to the surveillance screen before him, trying to get a chocolate sandwich cookie to separate perfectly with all the cream on one side when he heard the sound of water trickling from the surveillance feed of light. He figured it to be the sink or light relieving himself so he didn't turn his attention to the screen immediately. When he heard the trickling slowly dwindle down he marked it in the vital sheet, as they had to keep track of his bathroom habits to make sure he is still healthy. When L failed to hear the usual toilet flush, Light always flushed immediately probably because the small cell would start to smell, he turned his eyes to the screen to see Light, on his toes, pissing directly into the small metal sink in the corner of the stall. L thought maybe in his sugary distractedness, he missed Light becoming desperate for the toilet and had no choice but to relieve himself in the sink, but upon rewinding the footage, the young boy stood and contemplated the toilet for a while, before choosing to use the sink as his toilet. L was confused but chalked it up to stupidity and slight stir craziness.

The next time it happened, L was not the only one made aware of the situation. It was one day shortly after breakfast was served to young Yagami. L had parfaits for breakfast so he sent one down to Light as his breakfast, considering they all usually just eat the same meal aside from take-out, Light doesn't get such luxuries right now. Yamada is the one who slides his meals through the metal flap in the cell on weekdays and picks up the empty plates and bowels after words. L watched Light eat his parfait practically licking the tall plastic cup clean. He was about to send Yamada to collect the dish-ware for cleaning, when the two paused to look and see Light, Straddling the Parfait cup to the waistband of his pants. Yamada has a rather vocal reaction, but L knew what was happening, He knew Light was about to pee in the cup. He just didn't know why. The sink and now this? While he knew we were watching? It just didn't make sense. When Light finished peeing in the cup, he quickly poured the liquids into the sink, washed out the receptacle and placed it back on the tray to be picked up. L had to convince Yamada to go retrieve the cup to be thrown away. Both men didn't really know what to do about the situation.

The final time it happened, it was late, almost into the early hours of the morning. Light had been up most of the night, L thought it was weird, as he usually went to bed at the same time every night, even though he had no concept of what time it was. L on the other hand, usually stayed up this late doing other work outside of the Kira case, so at least having something more interesting to watch other than Light drooling on his pillow was slightly welcomed. L’s attention was drawing to the screen when he heard a slight whimper from the feed's audio. Seeing Light squirming while laying on his bed. He thought to ask the boy if he was okay, not wanting any harm to come to Yagami in this surveillance. He was about to press the button to speak to him when Light jolted up from the bed, his only pillow in his hands being shoved between his legs. Light sat, legs spread on the ground, the pillow shoved up against his crotch. L heard the hissing and that's when he realized Light was using the pillow and his pajama pants, as a toilet, with a perfectly good toilet a few feet away.

“Yagami-kun, What are you doing?” L said calmly into the mic that plays into a speaker in Lights cell. L watched as the boy hurriedly shoved the pillow away from his body, throwing in away from him and standing stick straight in the middle of the room.

“Ryuzaki! I figured you would be asleep…” L picked up on a wavering, almost embarrassed tone in the boy's voice.

“No, I’m always watching, Light, that's how this works.” L says back to the concerned looking boy.

“You don't ever sleep, or take bathroom breaks, or leave to go eat when we get our meals?” Light’s voice was shaky and exhausted.

“Of course, but only when you are asleep.” L says, not really knowing why he needs to explain this to Light, a very intelligent individual, but he does anyway so he can get to the bottom of what's going on. “Yagami-kun, do you care to explain to me why you just wet yourself and your pillow?” L pressed the button to speak and then watched the feed for Light's reaction, he merely hung his head, now sitting in the middle of the room.

“I-I sort of have a…” The microphone in the cell can barely pick up Light's whispered confession.

“Please repeat what you said, I couldn't hear you.” L presses the button.

“I have a kink for…holding my pee and peeing in places I shouldn't.I thought I only did this while you weren't watching, I tried to time it after meals, and when you had not spoken or asked me how I was doing for a while…I thought you were asleep..erhm-” L stared at the feed of Light in shock as the boy shoved his hands between his legs, clearly desperate to use the toilet after his admission.

“I-I see, Well, I'm sorry for interrupting you, please do as you please.” L spoke gently into the microphone.

“You're not mad?” Light looks up into the camera from his cell, L makes direct eye contact with him.

“I don't believe this makes me think you're any more or any less Kira, and if this is something you do in your daily life, I don’t think its a problem, it's not hurting anyone, well, except Watari who will have to launder that pillow and your pants.” L thinks for a second, If he wasn't allowed any sweets for as many days as L is locked up in this cell, he would go crazy. And if this pee thing, kink, brings Light even half the joy sweets bring him, He can understand why he would risk doing it in this circumstance.

“C-can I tell- ah- you when I want to, you know, and you can look away or mute?” Light asks, L see’s he is squirming in place quite a lot.

“I suppose a warning would be fine.” L would rather not see Yagami pee into a cup again anytime soon.

“Okay, now, please.” L doesn't click the mic on, instead he mutes the sound coming from Light cell but still watches from a slight bit of curiosity. He watches Light struggle to stand up, walking over to the sodden pillow he previously discarded in the corner of the room, and straddle it once again. Even though the sound is not on he can see the light haired man's head fall backwards and let out a moan of relief. He waits a while for Yagami to finish and go back to standing in the cell.

“I'll have Watari bring some clean clothes, and a bag to put the soiled items in, and, maybe a few plastic cups, a bedpan and a protective sheet for your mattress? Your free to do whatever you want, but please keep clean up on our end on the minimum, I would like to keep this from the other detectives, as i'm sure-”

“Thank you. L, Just thank you, please don’t tell my dad and the others and yes, I-If I get those things, i'll keep it confided to them. I’m sorry about the pillow. It won't happen again.” L watched Light bow to the camera in the room and laugh to himself. Out of all the cases he has worked on, this is the strangest prisoner he has ever kept.

[dulceateez]

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳

𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 

it wasn’t anything extraordinary, nothing out of the ordinary from him. he’s a gentleman. always has been and always will be. he treats everyone with the same amount of respect and love, but this time was different. after a surprise practice fire drill, you rush along with your classmates into the bitter fall wind, hugging your arms close to your chest. your legs shivering and lips trembling. you mentally scold yourself for wearing such a thin outfit. but here comes your hero; with a big hoodie in his hand. you slip into the clothing and wallow in his cozy, floral, manly scent. you look up at him to thank him but his arm wraps around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body. your cheeks turned crimson and you melt into his warmth, forgetting about the harsh cold; “y/n-ah, how can you wear such an outfit when it’s so cold outside! you need to dress warmer now, keep my hoodie for when you walk home today.” 

𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 

you didn’t know him prior to this interaction; heard of him. yes, of course you’ve heard of him. everyone has a crush on this boy and you understand the appeal. still, you’ve never felt the butterflies in your stomach when he flashes a smile in the direction of you and your friends. at least not until that subtle touch you felt on the small of your back as he passed by. who knew the crowded hallway could feel so empty after experiencing the seonghwa effect. what made your heart race was when he turned to flash you a smirk so devilish that it sent you straight to heaven. did you just fall for the more unattainable guy in this school? yes. do you regret it? no. you felt your mind warp into one like his followers.’ perhaps you dressed yourself up more and paid extra attention to your actions after the encounter; something you’ll never admit to yourself or anyone else. you want to feel his effect once more and that’s exactly why you fell for him. 

𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 

he’s the sweet boy next door, an eager puppy that always awaits your arrival, stalking your movements with child-like admiration. he finds you absolutely beautiful, since the day he moved in, but you’re taking longer to come around. but tonight changes the way you view him. your day was stressful, tear inducing even, and you just want to lay in bed and snuggle your favorite stuffed animal. the puppy analyzes your movements from afar and springs into action when you stomp right into your room as opposed to going into the kitchen for a snack like always. you lay in a puddle of your own self-pity when you hear thuds against your windowpane, you pull back the curtains and look down to see the homey boy smiling up at you with a bag of your favorite chips in hand. he gives it a shake, as if he’s coaxing you, you open the window up for him to climb into and he wastes no time in engulfing you in a bear hug. you replace the golden retriever plushy with him. as the two of you lay, not saying a single word, your heart starts to beat fast against his stomach; “y/n? are you nervous? do i make you nervous! you make me so nervous but i love it.” 

𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 

how can someone not fall for such a sweet little human? his hair is fluffy like cotton candy, cheeks puffy like mochi, eyes shinning brighter than the hard chocolate coating on candies. while his voice is as deep as the ocean it seems, his kind words contrast his tone. you often dreamt about the feelings of his lips; are they soft like clouds or do they send you to them? there was never one moment that solidified your attraction to him. from the first time you saw him, you’ve only had eyes for him. however, when you saw him giggling softly with his group of loud friends. the stark contrast between their bold and loud behavior and his gentle nature makes your heart go crazy. you suddenly became jealous--wanting to be the reason behind his laughter and his smiles, wanting to be the reason why he’s so bright and cheery. perhaps one day you will be. 

𝘴𝘢𝘯 

dimples. his cute little dimples. a dimpled boy like him never goes unnoticed. that’s how you noticed him, his cute smile and even cuter dimples. he sat across from you in the library once, taking notes from his textbook and writing them down on notebook paper. you admired him from afar. he was doing the same thing, raking his eyes over your body and face. finally, you built up the courage to introduce yourself to him and your fixation on his grew into a crush just by the way his eyes looked up at you: charming and hopeful. he removed his backpack from the seat next to him and invited you to sit down with him, a welcoming smile the whole time. while the two you studied independently, he kept sliding silly drawings under your fingertips. that’s when you knew for certain that you fell for the dimpled boy. and you fell for him hard after he asked you, “wanna go out and get a coffee or something after?” 

𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 

who knew being burnt by your newly bought cup of coffee could end so sweetly? you’ve long forgotten about the burning sensation when you locked eyes with the empathetic set of eyes that stared back at you. annoyed? yes. but  how can someone stay mad at an innocent face like his? you’ve seen him around the campus, always thought he was attractive, but a handsome face doesn’t leave and impression on you. however, him stripping out of his hoodie to give to you, leaving him in a very thin white t-shirt, made your heart swoon. he panicked upon seeing your skin turn into red. not knowing what else to do, he gently took your wrist and guided you into the nurses office where he stood by you every step of the way. even offered to take you to the hospital; but you two settled on him buying you a new cup of coffee...of course he joins you as well. 

𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 

the cockiness he has drives you crazy in the worst way possible. you hate his smirks and hate his abrupt laughter. what you don’t hate is how friendly and social he is--you’re envious of those traits. he treats everyone like he’s their buddy and makes sure everyone is included somehow. you’re more on the shy side and an easy target for bullies to pick on, that’s why you didn’t believe him when he spoke so kindly to you. but the moment that made you realize that your heart has fallen for him? when he scared off the bullies. you’ve never seen this side of him; snarling teeth, fist balled, veins on his neck prominent with anger. after seeing you on the brink of tears after having insults thrown your way, he can’t just sit around and enable this behavior by not saying anything. the friendly, but somewhat annoying, facade disappears. he shakes the guy by his collar, venom being spit on his face. once he scared the man out of his wits, he turns to you and approaches you softly, gently grabbing your hands; “has he been bothering you lately? i’ll make sure he never even looks in your direction.” 

𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰

such a sultry voice with high notes that reach the gods surrounding the earth, how can someone just move on from this type of singing? it was an immediate attraction to the anonymous man behind the honey voice. you began to wonder what he may look like--setting your expectations higher than the notes he is able to sing. you never built up the courage to peek into the music room and steal a glance and you always chickened out on staying after to see who leaves the room. it wasn’t until the day of the school’s choir when you found out who the voice belonged to. the quiet kid steps up to the mic and begins singing; your ears perked up instantly. the voice so familiar and you knew from exactly where. he stared at you as he sang the sweet lyrics, never breaking eye contact despite his solo ending. you felt alone in the audience, like everyone has disappeared and now it’s just him serenading you, warmth is all you felt. 

◌ 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ◌ @blaqpinksthetic​ @tinkerbellwoo​

[moxfirefly]

Ssssooooo I'm gonna keep the "only one bed" trope train and ask for it with maybe Heisenberg? I know you're obsessed with him dont even deny it uwu

*vibrates excitedly* oh BOY!!!!! Thank you Dia, you always gimme the prompts my little heart wants. Shout out to @akumaalert I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to include Karl’s powers being on the fritz due to, sensations, and that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for your brilliance!

I’m going off the friggin rails here so,

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a voice in the back of your head that sounded too much like your mother.

It kept yelling at you that this was unsavory, that this wasn’t modest of you and your teachings. Who were you to lie with a man? A man you weren’t bound to, a Lord on top of it. All those sinful talks in the big black book circled your mind like vultures.

But he had offered, no?

It was pouring out after all, a big bad storm complete with thunder and gusts of wind that would’ve blown you away probably.

The nature of this friendship? Complicated, very very complicated. You had racked your brain over it as you had buttoned up one of his shirts and climbed into his bed just as another clap of thunder sounded. It made you scurry, somewhat not as elegantly as you may have liked but nevertheless it didn’t stop him from laughing at you.

For such a large factory it only housed one bedroom which just so happened to be his own. He had every intention of sleeping somewhere else, some way, but you had insisted that it wasn’t fair. The storm wasn’t his fault or your own, the living accommodations weren’t either.

So here you were.

In bed with Karl Heisenberg.

Falling a sleep had proven quite difficult, the insistent slide of pencil on paper, the storm and its monstrous sounds. There was a distant revving of something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned to face Heisenberg with every intention of passing the time.

Or at least to help yourself to ogling him.

Your mother voice rang again.

Unsavory, so unsavory.

But he was there, shirtless, sturdy, muscle in his arms and missing those damned shades for once. Whatever he was scribbling had his undivided attention, as you snuck a glance you saw drawings instead of words.

He could draw?

Rather good too.

“What is that?” You tried to lift your gaze but a large hand fell on the page to obscure your snooping. “Nothing, just ideas” He flipped the page, the white of it begging for ink.

“My apologies… I didn’t know you could draw though” He could still see curiosity adorned in your gaze, a noticeable silence falling as your stared up at him. You wanted something, that’s all he could tell.

“…What do you want me to draw?” He huffed out, even if you excitedly sat up in bed and rested against the headboard with a big smile. “Hmm, surprise me or maybe draw me?” You chuckled but went quiet when you watched him scoot down to the end of the bed onto his side. He flipped open the note book again and squinted at you.

“How opposed are you to taking your clothes off?” He smirked and in turn you rolled your eyes.

“Depends, let’s see how well you draw me first” You shot back with every intent of dishing out what he was. Heisenberg chuckled before picking up the pen to start on the newest blank page. “You better keep your mouth shut about this, don’t want villagers lining up to get my works of art” His movements seemed almost mechanical, eyes occasionally lifting to meet you as he did. “There’s enough pictures of your mother in everyone’s homes, hm?” You watched his eyes roll again but he remained silent, he stole another glance at you, eyes roaming your chest now.

Something about that made your skin warm, a nice blush found itself onto your cheeks.

“You draw everyone woman you get into bed?” You asked rather quietly, the small pin prick of jealousy manifesting in your fingertips.

“No, much to your surprise I don’t have all the women of this village in here for sleepovers” His gaze fell to your now exposed legs and the urge to cover them increased but he was quick to tap the end of his pen on your approaching hands. “Stop moving,” He returned to the notebook with a concentrated chew on the inside of his cheeks. The strands of silvery hair fell in front of his eyes and you wished that maybe you too possessed the ability to draw and capture him.

He was handsome.

Those pesky sinful thoughts found you again and with that came the urge to do something about it.

“You better fucking like it, this is reserved for projects after all” He let the pen rest on the bed and flipped the note book towards you.

Your eyes went wide.

It was a sketch, not polished but there in the scribbly lines of black was your face and your body. The messy details perfectly representing you. Your drawn eyes stood out to you, the slight fall of his shirt on your shoulder stood out to you, the way he took more time to detail your legs stood out to you.

“Is that stunned silence? It’s shit isn’t it?” He glared at the page, eyeing up all its faults but you were quick to move and shake your head. “It’s not shit! I’m just- Karl this is beautiful, you’re talented” You observed the image again, a small crinkle at the corners of your mouth.

“I’d ask to keep it but-“ He took the notebook back, not relenting even as you pouted. “Nope, I like this, all I usually have on here is ugly inventions” And corpses, he obviously left that out. He continued to admire the drawing before he grinned, letting hazel eyes fall on you from above the notebook. “Well?” He simply asked and you knew.

“Might come back here for the nude study if you’re going to make me look this nice” You shamelessly flirted back. Heisenberg laughed, a true sound with not ill intentions. “Well I’m sure arrangements can be made” He closed the note book but his eyes soon found your own, close enough that he could smell the oils that had touched your skin this evening. With a bite to your lower lip and a steadying beat of your heart you leaned in close to him. Heisenberg’s lips pursed momentarily, the anticipation of your lips coming down on his own making something electric pulse inside of him.

But you stopped, an inch away from his lips.

His brows furrowed at being denied and that fact that you found that so endearing made you muffle a laugh between your tight lip smile.

Of course, he had to make you shudder, rub his knuckles across your cheek and dig his fingers into he back of your head. “What, pup?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sounds vibrating against your bottom lip and chin. The gentle nudge to close the distance left you breathless.

His lips were surprisingly soft, the scar noticeable against your lips but the bumpy tissue only served to make you melt against him. It was short, several gentle touches that made you shiver as you felt his nails scratch into your scalp.

Pressing your forehead to his own you sighed, want was there and he could feel it, taste it against your lips, feel it in the shiver on your flesh. A small zap hit your skin and the small yelp that escaped you only served to make him chuckle. “Did you just- was that electricity?” Your skin felt prickly suddenly, he only grinned more like a mad dog. Heisenberg wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you beneath him, the series of shrieks you let out only making him laugh more. “You can be such a beast” They way your hands landed on his bare chest to smack him was short lived.

Some retaliation was to be had. So you scratched your nails down his body before landing on his waist. The tremble of his arms as he held himself above you made you smile. With a gentle nudge of your knee you trapped him in between your legs, pulling him down onto you by his waist. He huffed, hair falling and obscuring his heated gaze. It was instinct, to wrap your arms around him and feel his so warm and soft and strong against you. The scratchiness of his beard was felt at your neck, along with that his teeth meeting warm skin.

He sucked a bruise onto your neck with a roll of his hips.

“Do you want me?” He grumbled against your pulse, tongue soothing the bruise.

You nodded, digging your nails into his waist before dragging them up his back.

“No, no, pup” He nosed your ear, teeth finding your lobe with a gentle tug. “I need to hear it, use your words” It was almost a purr, enough to goosebump your skin and lift your hips.

“Want you, want you so much, please…” You exposed your neck more for him, felt his lips find your throat. “Good pup” His hands found the neck of the shirt and with one fluid motion you heard and felt all the buttons pop off. He pulled it apart to reveal your chest, he hummed at the sight before him. “Now I should draw this some day” His grin made your cheeks flush again, even more so when he pressed his face against your chest, a rub of his cheek scratching your soft skin.

Lips pressed, tongue drawing patterns as you muffled a whine and grabbed his hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Ka-oh god!” A particular hard bite at your ribs made you grip silver locks with more intention. He groaned at the rough handling of his hair, the strain on his neck as you tugged hard enough that he could see your pupils blown wide for him.

When Heisenberg leaned back, allowed space between both your heated skins, you ached.

Visibly ached.

You followed those talented scarred hands to the front of his trousers, watched as he unbuttoned them slowly. But you couldn’t stay away too long, fingers itched to feel him, to touch every part of him and find out what made him tick. You unrolled what was left of your his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the bed. When he saw your hands go between your legs he palmed himself at the sight of it.

“You want your hand, mhm? Or would you much rather prefer my cock?” He emphasized with a tight squeeze of his hardened length and wordless you replied by removing your hand and reaching for him once more. Ever the asshole, he gripped your hand away and raised his brows, he wanted those verbal answers.

Bastard.

“Your cock, please” Intertwining your fingers with his own you gently brought him back down to you for a long and sensual kiss. Against those lips you whispered, “Inside, want you inside now” just as another clap of thunder hit.

There were more clothes gone, scattered across the room unwanted and unneeded. Heisenberg had every intention of feeling you come apart around him when he entered you slowly. Each hiccuped whine shooting your arms more tightly around him, pressing him down closer to you. The heat he was already exuding was making you break out in a sweat, you felt his hands slide beneath you with a groan the further his slid into you.

He was buried to the hilt, tight heat so perfect he growl against the bruised flesh of your neck. “Fucking good little pup, taking me so good” His filthy words fell against your ear, short but pronounced thrusts making you dig your nails onto his back. “Yesss, don’t be afraid, don’t break so easily baby” Heisenberg leaned his head as far as he could to catch your gaze in all its lust blown glory. He kissed you again, more ferocity, more purpose, all tongues and teeth and demanding bites. The heels of your feet rested at his back side encouraging him deep into you with every thrust he delivered.

Being at the end of the bed doing this felt weirdly interesting, each thrust he gave you made the bed creak, lean away from the wall just a bit, it’s increasing squeak joining the chorus of the storm.

When you dragged your nails down his back, right towards his rear and gripped and moaned loud enough to have him shake, you saw something lift from the corner of your eye. You eyes squinted at the spoon suddenly mid air, you weren’t unaware of his gifts but why was he-

You train of thought was lost to you when he angled his thrusts just the right way to hit your sweetest of spots, every possible question was being tried and language had fallen at the bottom of your list of abilities. You arched into him, neck on display for his teeth to once again find, that tight hold on his rear remained and he seemed to really enjoy it by the sounds and sensations of his heated grunts. “Puppyyy, such a good pup, could stay buried in this hole all week” Oh you would let him, you wanted him in fact, why go back to the village, you’d rather put your days on this bed.

No matter how many dangerous items kept floating about, no matter how his skin felt almost electric as he thrusted into you more feverishly, this is what you wanted.

You wanted him.

“Then do it, oh god just do it please!” He hooked his arms beneath your knees and locked you beneath him either every intention of making your moans louder than the rain. Heisenberg unceremoniously pounded you, every hit making your toes curl and your voice choke up. “Gonna fuck a mess into you, you want it? Mhm?” Dangerous dangerous dangerous!

But you did.

Whimpered a series of broken yes yes yes, at his ear. The bruising hold proved necessarily, you felt your legs shake and stiffen all at once, heard several things sort of just go pop! It dawned on you that it had been the lights but that couldn’t have been the storm-

Your orgasm snuck up on you, quite literally hit you smack in the gut with Heisenberg at his tail end as well, it must’ve been seconds apart from one another. He moaned right against your ear, hips drilling into you with every intention of making you lose your god damn mind. Several objects clattered around you, startling you and in the process making you hold onto him.

His amused chuckle came out in breathless pants, the now darkened room only having a lone candle as the source of light. He gave your hip a gentle tap, “It’s okay, just shit that happens” He sounded somewhat sheepish as you both still panted. You reached up and cupped his sweaty cheek, fingers mapping a crias crossed scar. Here in the dimly lit room he still managed to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You wanted him again.

Wanted all the madness that came with him.

You pulled him down again to show him just that as you kissed him.

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

His ego knows no bounds

I love how it's literally just him with a beak and no ears. Silvani did a fantastic job capturing the essence of Sparrow boiled down to basics. 👀

I mean, I have sonas too. I wouldn't call myself a traditional Furry, but I'm certainly Furry Adjacent, when I have sonas that are from Sonic and other anthro franchises. I even have a Poké-sona that's just a Raichu with glasses called "Rae-chu" that I made up over a decade ago for fun. There's nothing wrong with Furries as a whole, it's just like any other fanbase, except it's lore is entirely user generated and is constantly evolving. I really hate when people try to drag them like that just because there's some adult stuff happening, but tell me, what Fandom DOESN'T have that??

Silvani definitely is a better artist than me, at least. His line work is consistent, his inks are really good for the sketch pages, and he does do characters like Stitch and Beast really well. But I really don't like how he makes QuackerJack look too bulky, too much teeth, too small eyes, too focused pupils, too big of feet, just overall he seems... off. His posture especially doesn't feel right to me and I feel like I'm looking at a doppelganger that's going to reveal that the real QuackerJack is trapped in a gooey pod somewhere and this is an invasion.

I don't expect a 1-to-1 recreation of the original art, I can let that slide, but my problem is that he doesn't carry himself like the QuackerJack I know. At least with Darkwing and Negaduck, thier posture is generally the same as it was in the cartoon, with Darkwing flashing bravado and Negaduck hunching over like the scheming evil twin that he is.

QuackerJack is generally rather, for lack of a better term, "animated". He's thin and gangly, and his costume sort of makes up most of his shape, which I'm sure is supposed to be loose fitting. He doesn't have much muscle mass, and that just makes it all the more hilarious when he does things like throw a version of Herb Muddlefoot over his shoulder in one swift movement or holds an anvil over his head. 👀

... Seriously, QuackerJack and the main adult cast is like easily over the age of 38 canonically, does it really matter if people want to draw him and Megavolt snogging? QuackerJack canonically knows what the word "fetish" is, has alluded to knowing swear words ((such as him saying to MBB "There's a name for people like you!", and yes, he totally means "Smart Ass")) and him calling Darkwing a "fop" was just an archiac way of calling him a metrosexual, Sparrow needs to stop acting like this show wasn't made with an inherently provocative undertone, need I remind y'all about the Darkwing's gas gun melting gag? 🤣

I'm 32. I try to keep my account somewhat clean because I'm aware that children roam the internet and I have a fairly accessible page. I don't specifically make content that would be considered provocative, but I certainly support everyone's right to be allowed to do what they want as long as they're not hurting anyone or as long as they aren't including kids in this. We're all just trying to have fun here.

Yeah, honestly, I'd totally be willing to open our circle to anyone who used to be a Sparrow fan, or even if they are still a fan of his work but don't like his behavior. Maybe they have some cool art they want to share or got some awesome collection they want to show off or they got ahold of a rare piece they want to share? Maybe they sculpted a cool figurine or make a neat cosplay. Who knows? They're probably out there somewhere and I'd like to see that. :)

Life's too short, why spend it being angry, I want to see the funny cartoon animals.

((I did see that Sparrow did comment a few times about considering buying copies of the 2011 comics in bulk so he could give them out for free at the local children's hospital, which is honestly a nice sentiment since those books are expensive now and maybe some kid in the hospital might actually enjoy those and they get a start on being part of the Duck Fandom that way. That's... not a bad idea.))

The funniest thing, really, is that I technically could just appeal to Twitter to get me unbanned from Sparrow's page, because I haven't even done anything to warrant the ban other than the screens I showed y'all, and that's not even that bad. I haven't harassed him, I haven't threatened him, all I said was essentially "I wasn't a fan of how QuackerJack was written here."

I could bring that debate to Twitter and probably get unbanned if I actually cared to, lol.

He really didn't win anything. That's the same as yanking the cord out of the game console because someone was doing better than you at Mario Party.

That's honestly kinda sad, ngl.

Anyway, guys, don't bother him, he's not worth the time

[rockingrobin69]

Learning Curve

Four out of five dentists would recommend against reading this piece (1.7k). Think of your teeth! 

“Uncle Harry, did you know Uncle Draco is a weredragon?”

“A what now?” he frowned, tucking the duvet under Teddy’s chin.

“A weredragon. Like how dad was a werewolf, but with a dragon.”

Harry huffed a small chuckle. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t, Ted.” To be fair, considering all the things he’d learned about him since Malfoy adopted Teddy, Harry wouldn’t be too surprised if he actually turned out to be a weredragon. It won’t even be the most shocking discovery.  

“No, he is. All the best people are were-something, he said. So he’s a weredragon.”

Harry resisted the temptation to ask if he was a were-something, too. “All right then, menace, go to sleep. You can tell me on Sunday if you’d seen him turn.” He shook his head through all the begging, bargaining and trickery, until Teddy finally relented and closed his eyes. Harry chewed on his grin, pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead, murmured in his ear and left, silently closing the door behind him.

And then heading out with his usual gracefulness – accidentally knocking into the dresser with a big yelp, stepping over every creaking floorboard, smacking against the door because he wasn’t really looking ahead, he was looking for – ah. Malfoy heard him, it would seem. Standing at the kitchen doorway, leaning against it like some sort of model in a Muggle magazine, rolling his eyes. Harry noticed he was holding his breath.

“Care to join me for a drink, Potter?”

He didn’t know why he was nervous. This happened every night.

The thing is, Harry loved Teddy so much. So, so much, he even considered adopting him himself after Andromeda and all. But Harry’s stupid job was too stupid to allow it, and Malfoy was technically ‘family’. And so Harry came by every day – well, night, stupid job and all – to see how Teddy was doing. And then, every night, he’d run into Malfoy, who had no choice but to invite him for a drink. It would be wine, sometimes, or flavored butterbeer, or – and only once – straight up Ogden’s whisky. But mostly it’d be hot chocolate, which apparently was something Malfoy enjoyed, and something Harry seemed to find quite irresistible.  

Of all the new things he’d learned about Malfoy, this was perhaps one of the most surprising. He made the best hot chocolate. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect sweetness, the perfect texture. Perfection in a cup. Harry followed him into the kitchen, sat in his favorite chair (somewhat dangerously with the way Malfoy’s books were stacked so high behind his back), and turned his gaze to the fridge. Teddy’s newest masterpiece was magicked to the door, and even squinting Harry couldn’t tell what it was meant to be.

“A wolf,” Malfoy muttered as he laid a cup of hot cocoa before Harry. “Your godson is very talented, you know.”

Harry hummed into his cup, probably smearing his nose full of whipped cream. “Bet you I could draw a better one.”

He waited. Some nights Malfoy wasn’t in the mood. He’d be tired, or closed off, and they’d just sit there in silence and stare. Some nights he was restless, far too giddy to stay still, and they’d go for a walk in the forest. But tonight –

Tonight Malfoy was game. He scoffed and summoned two quills and some parchment. “Let’s see – five minutes, best drawing wins?”

Harry grinned privately to himself. There must have been something in that hot chocolate, because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he just loved spending nights at Wiltshire.  

*

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one Sunday, sliding into his wellies. “Did you know that Uncle Draco had a pet a stag?”

“What?” Harry was busy arranging a beanie on his orange hair with his tongue between his teeth. “A pet stag?”

“Yeah, when he was a kid. I asked him why he likes them so much, and he told me. His name was Arold and he was very stupid, Uncle Draco said.”

“Arold?” Harry laughed, tilting his head. “Ted, you know Uncle Draco is messing with you, yeah? He never had a pet stag. You can’t have stags as pets.” Malfoy had peacocks, which he hated, and the eagle owl, which he loved, and that was that. No stags. Harry knew that. He picked up every single piece of information about Malfoy slowly, carefully, and catalogued it all in his head. Malfoy was afraid of hippogriffs (still) and very enthusiastic about nifflers. He wanted a kneazle really badly as a kid, but his mother was allergic to the fur. Harry knew these things, now. He even had this insane idea to get a kneazle for him and Teddy, a fantasy he liked to entertain from time to time. Teddy’s words brought him back to reality with his cheeks oddly flushed and his ears ringing.

“That’s what he said.”

Harry wondered why Teddy thought Malfoy liked stags to begin with, but he’d already ran outside and jumped into the nearest puddle, so the question had to wait.

Malfoy was in the kitchen when they returned, and Harry plopped down next to a steaming mug of hot cocoa. The clutter all around practically screamed we actually live here, and Harry felt the warmth of it in his bones. His eyes kept zooming from Malfoy, to Teddy, happily blabbering about the squirrel they’d seen on their walk, and something in him thrummed. We actually live here. The flavor of want was sweet and sadly familiar.

*

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one night in November, a tired little bundle of curiosity that ached in Harry’s chest with affection, “What’s emveeos?”

“Huh?” Harry stopped at the doorway, eyebrows drawn.

“Emveeos. Like if I was emveeos of someone.” Teddy gave him an exasperated little look, a come on you should know this one when Harry simply shook his head. “Uncle Draco said he’s emveeos of me.”

“What? When?” Harry’s heart did a funny little leap. He still didn’t really understand the question, but apparently the mere mention of ‘Uncle Draco’ was enough to ignite this heat inside him.

“Because you always kiss me good night.”

Harry could only shrug, but the heat intensified into something near intolerable. “I dunno, Ted. Best to ask him tomorrow, yeah? You know Uncle Draco is better at these things.” Better at most things, really. Cooking, drawing, writing, teaching. He was just good at everything. Even dancing – Harry had seen photographs of a very sulky boy beautifully performing the tango, no joke. And he could make the best hot chocolate. And –

“Okay. Good night, Uncle Harry.”

“Good night, Menace. I love you.” Harry made sure to tell him that every night, even if Teddy was already asleep. It was good for him too, he thought, to get the practice.

That night there were mini marshmallows in the mug. Harry couldn’t help it anymore; he was so enamored with the – drink – it felt a little like an explosive device in his chest. He found a way to distract Malfoy for a couple of seconds while he covertly drew a vial of the cocoa, stashing it in his pocket. There had to be something wrong with it, a potion or something. There had to, or Harry was losing his mind. He’d lost enough things for a lifetime, he thought.

*

“No, Uncle Harry! Cookies first.”

It was the week before Christmas, and Malfoy was out on a last minute gift shopping trip. Harry and Teddy were in the kitchen together, in charge of lunch, though Teddy was more interested in sampling the Christmas cookies Malfoy had made. To distract him Harry suggested they try to prepare Malfoy’s cocoa – well, also so he’d have something hot to drink when he comes back, because Malfoy always suffered from the cold.

“Oh, Uncle Draco doesn’t like hot chocolate,” Teddy shook his head.

“But,” Harry didn’t know what to do with this information, which stood in stark contrast with everything he knew in this life. “He drinks it all the time with me.”

“No, no, he says it’s too sweet. He never drinks it.”

Harry felt utterly lost. The knowledge he’d collected of Malfoy was the foundation with which he was trying to build this – it was what he stupidly thought he could use to make a home. Hell, he’s been practicing – getting ready for – and all this time, Malfoy was lying?

When Malfoy returned Harry pretty much threw himself at him, boxing Malfoy at the door with all his shopping bags.

“You don’t like hot chocolate,” he said accusingly, and Malfoy’s eyes went big.

“What?”

“You don’t. And you told Ted you had a pet stag and that you’ve embossed him or something like that. But you don’t like hot chocolate.”

“I – “ Harry’s never seen Malfoy so flushed in his life, and was furious with how adorable that was. “All right. I don’t.”

“But you make it almost every night,” Harry contested. He felt a little woozy.

“Yes.” When Harry gave an odd grunt, he closed his eyes. “You like it.”

“So?”

“So…” Malfoy’s shrug was so painfully sad. “I thought you’d… come here if you…”

Harry didn’t wait for the sentence to finally come to a stop, it was taking forever. “So you just lied?” 

“No!” two grey eyes opened, sort of panicked. “I just – I’ve been trying, all right? all this time, to learn to… to get to know you. All these things about you, and then I saw how much you liked it when I made hot cocoa for Teddy and – I just. Want you to. Have. Things that you like.”

Harry couldn’t feel his tongue. His head was spinning. He didn’t know what to do about this, didn’t know what to think, didn’t know – he just didn’t know. Sadness was familiar, and losing, and being lied to, but – but this –

“Kiss him, Uncle Harry!” a little voice carried from behind him, and startled he caught a glimpse of blue hair. Hell. A quarter of his age, and Teddy was at least twice as clever. Harry leaned forward and did the only thing that made sense, and the kiss was solid enough to build on. Malfoy’s lips were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hot chocolate, no matter how good, could never compare.

Wow, I really ran away with this one... Today was day 6 of my Seven Sins of Drarry one-shot collection, and was all about - Teddy almost had it: envy! Hope you’re ready to be good, because there’s only one sin left!

Day 1: wrath   | Day 2: lust  | Day 3: sloth  | Day 4: greed  | Day 5: gluttony | Day 7: pride

[mystic-sky]

Summary: third-year Gojo’s first kiss with fem reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, sfw aside from teen Gojo ogling at your tiddies.

A/N: I wanted to break from my heavy smut writing with something wholesome and sort of vanilla. Enjoy SSS trio and you on a summer night in August.

It was your second summer together, the summer before everything went to shit. The memory will forever be engraved into you, into Gojo Satoru. Forever engraved into Geto Suguru before his departure, and forever engraved into Ieiri Shoko, who had just discovered her newest infatuation with marijuana.

The moment feels ridiculously more ethereal than how you remember it. Suguru and Satoru snicker as you take your first pull. You’re coughing your lungs out, shoving the blunt back between Suguru’s fingers. He allows his laughter to die down before passing it between his lips (most effortlessly) to inhale.

“Like this,” he holds it for a moment, and releases a puff of the high into your face. Your throat closes and you heave again, squeezing your knees as you hunch over.

“You’ll get used to it,” Shoko says, taking hold of the blunt to take her own pull before passing it to Satoru whose just behind you, sitting on the railing. 

He’s blocking the setting sun, which you were grateful for in a way. You eventually got better at smoking before the thing burnt out, much to everyone’s dismay.

“Get us ice cream, oh handsome, honored one.” Shoko bats her long eyelashes at the snow haired male. She shoves an elbow at your side. You quickly join in.

“Oh dearest honored one, bestow us with snacks to cure the munchies.”

He hops down from the railing, and he’s still taller than the rest of you. “Hmm, say the handsome part again, won’t you? Then, I might consider it.” His sunglasses slide down his nose, and he’s more in your face than Shoko’s, even though you never exaggerated the handsome part specifically.

As nose barely touches nose, you’re a bit flustered by the heat of his body emanating onto yours. It was already hot outside, but you surely felt it.

“I’m the handsome, honored one,” you begin, sliding his sunglasses off of his face and putting them on your own. “And I am going to spoil my friends with ice cream— because I’m the honored one.”

“Cute,” he’s holding an loose, irritated scowl, whirling around and quickly walking up ahead of you lot, earning chuckles from the rest of the group. “Are you guys coming or not?”

“Oh we are, handsome honored one,” Shoko snorts on the handsome part again before cheesing at you. You’re imitating his facial expressions with the shades on— wow these things are pretty cool, you think. And clearly expensive. 

It’s a decent walk to the convenience store now that the sun is down, and no longer scorching the open skin of your back. Him and Suguru are snickering about something like usual, peering back immaturely at you and Shoko. The both of you are unamused, wondering if the two of you should pretend to mumble things about them too, just to rile them up. 

She asks you for your hair tie by whispering in your ear, and you stifle a fake laugh, earning raised eyebrows from the two males. You swiftly pull it off your wrist and hand it to her, watching her stuff what she could of her bob cut into a frazzled ponytail.

Stepping foot into the store was probably the sweetest relief of that night. The coldest air poured down your backs as the door chimed loudly upon entry. You slide the sunglasses up to rest on your head, realizing just how bright the in-store lights actually were.

You and Shoko broke off from the boys to choose what you pleased. She picked up a teen idol magazine as you paced just a few steps ahead. You’re grabbing a few snacks as well, something crunchy to fill whatever it was your stomach was feeling. 

The four of you meet again in the ice cream section, and Satoru doesn’t actually care that you and Shoko have picked out more than just ice cream. He’s got an armful of things you never even tried, so you ask him,

“What’s that? S’it good?” He’s distracted by your breasts being pressed together by full arms of snacks. A single strap of your tank top is falling off one of your shoulders, and it makes his gaze stutter about on your frame. Suguru snaps his fingers behind him, forcing a response from Satoru.

“I’ll let you try some,” the response is quick on his tongue, and he scowls at his dark haired friend who had been mocking him in the back ground about his looming crush on you.

“All you get is chocolate stuff,” Shoko inserts herself between you both, analyzing Satoru’s snacks. “Can I get cigs too?” 

He shrugs. He hardly had any limits on his allowances. Money to him was limitless, and that’s why, especially with his sweet tooth, he had absolutely no discipline. He’s at the register minutes later, with more items in hand than the rest of you. He argues that since its the the last week before the summer ends, who knows when you’ll get another outing like this one. 

You are all back by the pier again, sitting on the railing you aren’t supposed to be sitting on because you could very well fall into the sea. Stomachs full of flavored corn snacks and sweets, the munchies are now gone and you’re all talking about... well, a whole lot of nothing.

Shoko, as seemingly spontaneous as ever, wants to dip her feet in the water. 

“I don’t wanna go alone,” she tugs at Suguru’s side. “Carry me there.”

“What? No.” He’s gnawing unapologetically on a bare popsicle stick. Her eyes plead, the same ones from earlier, and he gives in out of annoyance. The two them walk down the steps to the beach. 

You never asked her if she left you alone with Satoru that night on purpose, or what her goals might’ve been, but an opportunity it was, nonetheless.

“The blue one’s better,” he says simply, sucking on the flavored block of ice.

“Than the red one?” You peered at your own popsicle. “I guess it’s up to preference.” 

Your mouth pops off of the tip loudly before you suck again. He wishes you didn’t make it look so lewd.

You ogle at the box of flavors, the rest of them would surely melt by the time you all got back to the school. You turn your head back to feel white hair graze against your arm. He invites himself to taste your popsicle, prompting hard blushes from you. He imitates the loud pop you made just before. 

“Blue is still better,” he smirks at your sudden discomfort. He’s somewhat at eye level with you, and you swallow hard. He’s always flirting with you, messing with you— trying to get some sort of reaction out of you. 

“Just cause you bought it for me doesn’t mean you can invite yourself to taste it whenever you want.” You bring the pop to your lips and suck softly, looking directly at him. He’s blushing now too, but he tries so hard to hide it. He’s stuck on the way that you’re barely shy about it. You’re not telling him to back up like you usually would. Your eyes are sparkling as bright as they’re able with barely any sun left on the horizon.

“Your mouth’s blue,” you break him from his sultry thoughts. He licks his lips, feeling somewhat embarrassed about it.

“Yours is red,” he deflects, he’s definitely not prepared at all for what you say next.

“If we kiss, our lips are gonna be purple,” He’s all for it, but he’s still surprised when your cold lips entwine with his. It’s a sweet taste, but the feeling of the kiss is a cross between sticky and numb. Suddenly, some warmth blooms in the center of it, and you feel each other entirely. Your tongue doesn’t feel like he thought it would, but at least he knows why. You pull away, wrapping your mouth around your pop, nonchalant as ever.

“You’re just always in my face like you wanna kiss me,” you shrug, you’re analyzing him subtly through the corner of your eye. His expression is sort of deer-like. He’s always wanted to kiss you, yeah. Did he think it was going to happen like that? Not exactly. 

“Cause,” the response is seconds late, “I do.” 

He’s not so shy anymore, closing the space between your bodies.

“So just do it,” you look up at him, and his eyes are glimmering at you. He presses his lips to yours, warming them again against your soft and pillowy flesh. A sweet sound pours through his mouth, one he didn’t know you were capable of making. He wondered if all girls tasted this sweet— with the exception of the ice cream. You kissed him back so bashfully, despite your seemingly assertive personality before hand.

The kiss lasts longer than you both realize, prompting sticky ice cream to dribble down both your arms but neither of you care that much. 

Your wet mouths part, and surely there’s a bit of blue on your lips as much as there is red on his. You find yourself looking away from his piercing blue gaze, trying not to draw attention to the blush painting your face. 

“There isn’t anything to wipe my arm up with is there,” you mutter, watching the red juice slither down your arm. You’re tempted to lick it up to prevent it from traveling further but Satoru speaks again.

“We could go rinse our hands by the fountains if you want,” he says, cracking a goofy grin.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you look towards him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

He chuckles lightly as the fingers on his cleaner hand find your face, smooshing your cheeks inward and puckering your lips. “Well would you look at that,” he grins again.

“They definitely are purple.”