#make them /do/ something while they're at it even a little movement can add a lot of character work if you carry it through

[goldenspringmornings]

aside from all the blatant racism in the Dinner Scene™, i think my biggest gripe with it is that it's such a flat scene. it's a whole chapter long and it doesn't actually do anything except be a stupid long exposition dump that doesn't even have the decency to do any character work while everyone is literally just sitting around a table- no thought in what the food says about the characters (it's just roast chicken and veggies) or what a "family dinner" means to these people (becuase it's a plot device to get feyre to agree to rhys' stupid plots for the rest of maf) no interesting dynamics introduced between anyone (this would be the better time to insert the mor/cass/az thing if sjm were a better writer) it's a whole chapter of nothing but this is where we're told that feyre starts to feel like she belongs or whatever and so we have to sit though what i can only imagine is the worst version of a buisness dinner ever and thank sjm for the literal scraps she's publishing for money

[pearlymel]

Hiii!!

Love your work!! If you’re available, could you please write hc’s of Jing Yuan, Natasha, Kafka, Boothill, Jiaoqiu (OOC is fine!!), Sampo, Gallagher, March 7th, and/or Serval with a reader with low blood sugar? Huge self-indulgent comfort ask, but it might resonate with a lot of other people!

My DM’s are open if you ever would like to learn some major symptoms of blood sugar drops. You absolutely do not have to do all of these characters, just giving you some ideas! Have a wonderful day/night!! ☺️💕

Synopsis: headcanons of the hsr character and reader with a low blood sugar.

Includes: Boothill, Jiaoqiu (might be ooc), Jing yuan, Gallagher, and March 7th.

Notes: i didn't add all of them because i usually write up to 5 characters or so (gonna create my rules sometime this week). But thank you for the request, lovey! I had so much fun writing this, i love writing and exploring new things :) i hope it was to your expectations, and sorry if the symptoms were inaccurate (google was my help i was too shy to dm.)

↳ BOOTHILL.

—we all should agree that this man is a caring lover, although i see him as the type to forget that you're not like him. You're not metal and scraps like him, and that you're a human being who needs a lil extra care.

—he doesn't think much of it when you first tell him that you tend to have low blood sugar, he even asks random strangers at bars he goes to about this sickness.

Boothill loves all types of fun to do with you, and tonight, you suggested you both dance.

Seeing the hint of a smile gracing your lips when you try hiding it by pressing your face on shoulder, Boothill grins. And he makes no attempt to hide his delight, he tightens his grip on your frame, holding you carefully but firmly against his chest.

"Well now, ain't I a lucky devil," he drawls, the evident sarcasm was in his tone, "Looks like I'm gettin' the chance to dance with a lovely person who shares my love for tryin' new things. I must be doin' somethin' right."

Silly, you think. "You were simply just you. And i love being with you."

Boothill grins, his eyes softening at the edges as he gazes down at you.

"Well now, ain't that a sweet thing to say," he replies, his voice gruff yet affectionate. "I ain't used to hearin' such sweet talk, to be honest." He pauses for a beat, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly.

"But hearin' it from you, it's nice," he continued before pulling you a bit closer against him.

You laugh along with him, bringing your hand to brush your fingertips along his hair, your other hand over the metallic surface of his chest before you slow your movements, you feel dizzy. No, it's not from how much you both were spinning, you both were going slow and careful.

It doesn't go unnoticed by him with the shift in your demeanor, a subtle change in your movements that indicates something is amiss.

"You okay there, darlin'?" he asks, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. He can feel something amiss with you physically.

"Lightheaded." You mumble, holding onto him. "You... You have uhm.. anything sweet i can take?" He gives you a nod, "Reach into my pocket, I'm sure there's a candy sitting there," he explains, guiding your hand to his pocket, taking it calmly.

You give him a small smile when you reach for his side pocket to grab the singular wrapped candy.

Your fingers fumbles with the wrapper before you pop it in your mouth, sucking on the strawberry flavoured candy while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"Doin' a little better there?"

"Yeah, thanks my hero."

"Don't you go gettin' all sweet on me now," he mutters with that of gruffness, though he smiles. "You're the one who's supposed to keep me from goin' all soft."

↳ GALLAGHER.

—Oh he's ready 24/7 whenever the situation calls for it. He takes this very seriously and will make sure no funny jokes were made about it, because they're certainly not funny to him and he will kick ass if anyone makes it harder on you than it should be.

What a sight for sore eyes. Truly. And no, he's not talking about the view, he's glancing back at you where you sat while looking up at the skies, your head titled as if you're so immersed.

"Anything on your mind?" He was the first to speak as he approaches you, "A lot of things.. clouding my head." You half shrug, watching him as he takes a seat next to you with a can of some carbonated drink on his side, and you hear the slight hiss of it when he open it with his finger. The carbonated drink fizzes a little between his finger and thumb as he pops the tab open, taking a small sip from it before turning his attention back to you.

His crimson eyes were on the direction you were trying to look at but he can't find what's so interesting about tonight's sky.

“I'm willing to stay here all night and listen.” He reassures you.

"Mhm," you stare blankly ahead now, almost zoning out, and you don't notice how sweaty you're starting to feel, or how your heart starts racing.

Gallagher's eyes narrow as he notices your almost zombie like look of a thousand yard stare. The way you look unmoving and not even acknowledging him.

He doesn't say anything and just hands you his drink, gently tapping the can on your arm to bring back your attention. You don't hesitate to grab it, taking small fast sips.

"Careful," he helps you straighten your back, drinking while slouching isn't exactly good.

You sigh when you hold the can with both hands now, letting it rest on your lap, "Thank you—"

"When was the last time you ate today?" He gently cuts you off.

"Earlier."

“And can you confirm that ‘earlier’ wasn’t hours ago?” He asked, his voice now firm but he tries to stay calm.

"I'm sleepy." You brush his question off instead, looking at him while blinking slowly as you lean to rest your head on the side of his shoulder. Gallagher watches you, letting out a soft scoff at how you tried to change the subject. He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer from you, but he also wasn’t going to let you just avoid the problem either.

"We're having dinner after your little nap, deal?"

↳ MARCH 7TH.

—March.. panics when she finds out for the first time. She asks you if you were okay, if you wanted anything, even when you try to reassure her that you felt fine at times, she wouldn't be convinced until you stay under her watch. She bugs Dan Heng to tell her all the possible symptoms so she wouldn't panic more than she should.

Today, you were March's model for photography, well you always are her model because she says you're the best fit for it.

She lets you try out fun clothes and you shyly and awkwardly try to pose in front of the camera at first, but then you immediately gain the confidence after a few more clicks. Smiling and posing while trying out all the fun combinations of colours and clothes.

She looked at you, wearing clothes she had picked out for you. You looked absolutely beautiful.

The enthusiastic girl was blushing a lot as she kept taking pictures of you, giggling behind the camera even.

"March, mind if i sit down for a bit?" You hated to stop her from her enthusiasm, but you feel lightheaded almost. And you were sure it's not from the flashes.

March immediately stopped taking photos and set her camera down when you asked.

She placed a gentle hand onto your forehead, seeing if you had a fever first. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, don't panic. I just feel lightheaded. Do you have anything sweet i can take?"

Okay, she is prepared for this, "You're low on blood sugar, are you?" She asked, concerned. March then grabbed a small candy—a lollipop, to be exact—from the camera case and offered it out to you.

"And you came prepared." You try teasing, and she nodded with a light laugh. It was a nice-looking sweet lemon-flavored lolliop.

"I carry them with me just in case!" She replied, You both sit down together, she takes out another lollipop for herself so you wouldn't feel left out.

"We can take pictures while eating these lollipops."

March nodded in agreement with your idea, she was happy that you even said that, it meant taking pictures together for an hour now wasn't boring you out.

Then, she pulled out her camera again, a grin forming on her face, "That's a good idea! Alright, on the count of three—" she pulls the lollipop out, posing as if kissing the candy while you smile widely as the camera clicks on both of you.

↳ JIAOQIU.

—sooo, he's a healer. Then that means we all can agree that he's the attentive lover, and strictly cares about your health and diet, but i feel like he'd be playful about it at times.

You don't remember sleeping for so long when you woke up rather confused, shuffling around the blankets and sitting up on the bed while rubbing your head.

Your fault for skipping breakfast and going straight into your work or chores for today.

You fail to notice at first the pink haired figure next to you, sitting beside the bed so silently that it makes you gasp when you turn around to see him.

He was holding a spoonful of some red liquid that you're sure is spicy concoction. He looks at you expectantly, a hint of mischief behind his closed eyes.

“Say ahh,” he says quietly, enjoying the moment. But you almost try not to laugh.

"What happened exactly?" You ask him, refusing to still take that.. extremely dark red soup. It was so dark you can almost smell the spice in the air.

"Someone forgot to eat their meal i prepared earlier," he hums, still trying to pry his spoon closer to your lips, "so i had to find myself misfortune in the of finding you almost unconscious. You're lucky i was carrying some sweet herbs with me." And you frown at his next words, you want to apologize for how he must've been worried.

As if sensing your next words, he smiles, "none of that. Now, open up." He offers you the spoonful again but you pull your face away.

"Are you sure you're not trying to kill me next?"

Jiaoqiu pretends to pout. His fox ears prick and he gives you a slight pout, "You're so dramatic," he says, his tail flicking with amusement. He holds up the spoon again, still waiting for you to open your mouth.

"My soup will fix your blood sugar. Trust me, it's a secret recipe," Jiaoqiu says with a sly smirk.

"What if it tastes bad?" You regret the words leaving your mouth, because he opens his eyes and stares at you with an almost hurt expression. You take the spoonful in your mouth without another complaint, and he hums in approval while closing back his eyes.

The flavours almost explode in your mouth, it.. wasn't spicy at all. It was rather sweet and savoury.

"You tricked me, it's not spicy at all."

"I never said it was spicy, though." He tilts his head, feigning innocence and confusion.

Despite his antics, you instantly feel better, although he doesn't allow you to feed yourself, he'll do it for you.

↳ JING YUAN.

—This man would spoil you rotten. You're feeling unwell? He would love to take the day off and just look after you, although there is a doctor on the side in case anything gets serious. You're simply tired not because of your low sugar levels, but just because you were? He would gladly invite you in his arms or simply sit next to you while you both chat nonstop about eachother's days if that's what will make you feel better.

You were panting when you decided to train alone in the training grounds, Yanqing offered to train with you but you insisted that you needed that full concentration.

After a while, you do feel exhausted and worn out. The spear dropping from your hands as you bend a bit to rest your hands on your knees to catch some breath.

"Now, now, if you want to get stronger, you'll also need a break." Jing Yuan's call for you is what makes you huff out a chuckle. In his hands is what looked to be a bowl of fruits with a water bottle on the other.

"i wanted to build some muscle." You tell him when he gives you that look whenever you start training alone. It's not that he's against your wishes of wanting to be stronger for your own good, but he wishes Yanqing was atleast there to watch you.

"And, I'm not a baby." You roll your eyes playfully and he lets out a deep laugh. "Eat up." You take the orange first, but he was quick to take it from your hands to peel it for you, so you take the grape instead.

You as well take the bottle, gulping down almost the whole thing. Water has never tasted this good.

"You're not a baby, but you drool like one." You almost glare at his words and he only grins while wiping the excess water and fruit juice off the corner of your lips with his thumb. "That was mean, General." You raise both of your eyebrows at him, he only pats your head back, pulling you in with his arm to just hold you.

"when the time comes, you'll be strong enough to protect me."

[star-suh]

Livin’ La Vida Loca

Bang Chan x Male Reader

cw: top chris, stripper reader, anonymous sex, protected sex, marking, pulling the thong to the side, chest play, riding, in the desk, against the door, hungry sex (like it's something chris was craving for so long), facial.

—

“finally, it's saturday” chris hummed, it was a tiring week full of work, so a free day was refreshing to him. he was walking down the street filled with street food stands, shops with colorful lights and neon signs when something caught his attention.

“little shop of eros… what a curious sign” he obviously knew what the sign meant but still curiosity got the best of him, “i guess a strip show wouldn't be that bad to relieve my stress” little did he know it would do more than that”.

“welcome gentleman, here let me take your coat” the man in the door extended his arms and chris handed him his coat, “welcome to little shop of eros, home to one of the best strippers in the country. you might want to use this mask if you don't want your identity to be known” then the man pointed to one of the seats near the bar, "please take a seat, the show is almost starting" he adds.

chris accommodates himself in the seat asking for a whiskey on the rocks when suddenly all the lights are gone, “what” he muttered quietly. then the lights are turned on again but this time they're all red. the figure of a man appeared, he was wearing very short shorts that left nothing to the imagination, some straps that went from the front of the shorts to the back of it and it covered his nipples, a little bow tie and a mask.

he started to dance on the silver pole, going up and down of it with swift sexy movements, movements that caught chris’s attention. the stripper kept on dancing and started to discard his clothes, it's not like he has a lot of them anyway. first the straps, they fell and revealed his nipples, they were hard and with a red mark due to how tight the straps were. then it’s turn for the shorts, he unzipped and unbuttoned them, they went down slowly, he was teasing the spectators, to make them eager to see his almost naked body.

“so sexy”; “fuck! i need him”; “i want to touch it” and more things can be heard in the public, they all were watching yn dancing again in the pole but this time with just a thong the front part covering his bulge while the back part, a fine strap of fabric, was in between his ass cheeks.

something rose in chris's pants, a big bulge was forming after seeing him, his suggestive movements, his sexy body. chris would be a fool if he doesn't so something to meet yn. “i see you're quite interested in him” a man near him says, staring at his bulge, “you can meet him backstage” the unknown man chugged the remaining alcohol on his glass “he's the one who decides if he accepts you or not tho” he adds and then leaves.

seeing the opportunity he quickly drinks all the glass of alcohol and went backstage looking for his room. he knocks but no ones opening the door, he knocks again until he hears a “coming” from the other side of the door. “hello stranger” he greets. chris saw him without the mask, he's even prettier. “umm hello?” yn asks again “how can i help you?”.

“i wanted to meet you” chris replied quickly. “i see.. what's your name?”; “chris” he almost yells it, causing yn to laugh a little, “okay mr. chris please come in”, yn opens the door completely letting the masked man enter.

it started as a gentle kiss session, they're mouths connected to each other, chris’ plump lips tasted like strawberry due to the lip balm he was using. their tongues intertwined with each other, saliva being shared and lips being bitten. “you taste so good mr. chris” yn said with clenched teeth biting the other's lower lip, “i say the same” he replies.

chris takes a small package out of his pocket and opens it using his teeth, taking out the condom from it. "wow, you came prepared for this, didn't you?" yn spits and sucks chris’ shaft for few seconds and then slides the condom little by little. “so heavy and thick” yn blurted out while massaging it a bit and kissing chris’ neck. the top accommodated himself on the chair in a comfortable position and yn sat on top of him, pulling his black thong to the side, letting his hole swallow that juicy dick. “hngh… i missed this feeling" mentions yn "a delicious cock stretching my hole”. chris moved his hips in a slow sensual manner, opening those insides. “you're so tight” he cooes and kisses yn’s chest, swirling his tongue in his erect nipples and leaving some bite marks on it, while yn ride him, loving the burning sensation he's feeling inside.

the both were enjoying the slow, almost sensual, pace but chris wanted more. he hugged yn tightly, his thrusts were gaining speed “i want more” he said, neediness in his tone “i want more of you, may i?”.

“shi…” yn murmurs, the pleasurable sensation kicking in “just don't break me, man” he joked giving chris the green light to let him do whatever he wants.

chris lifted yn from the chair with his cock still buried deep inside him. yn rode him like that, trusting that chris’ strong veiny arms would not let him fall to the floor. “is so fucking good… mr. chris” yn whimpered, his ass cheek clashing against chris’ heavy cum-filled balls. “your hole is top tier yn, the best hole i've ever had” he praises.

chris sat yn into the desk and make him lean so he can receive his cock properly. yn's sweaty back steaming the mirror. the thrusts become so harsher that the desk started moving. “i… told you not to b-break me b-but that doesn't mean y…ou can break my… my things” yn managed to say while his sweet spot was being brushed by chris' tip.

chris white shirt was starting to get wet, it sticked to his body making him look way sexier. the sight of the sweat beads rolling down his toned chest made yn hornier. he unbuttoned the shirt enough to see the other's chest, ‘so sexy’ he thought. the mirror was completely fogged up, the sex session was being a success. both people fulfilling their needs in such a passionate and sexy way, it felt as if they were the only ones in the world right now. yn pinched his nipples, gripped his tits so hard it let his handprints on it “i love how they jiggle while you pound my hole”.

once again chris lifted him and made him stand facing the door, yn was being pushed against it while chris rails him and covered his mouth to muffle his moans. “i’m gonna cum” he said. he grabbed the strings of the thong grabbing it and then letting it go, adoring the sound it made when it clashed against the other's ass. chris grabbed both ass cheeks, gripping them hard, to make yn meet his thrusts. it was like yn was his toy and he wasn't complaining, he hadn't felt that good in such a long time. “mr. chris i have a request” he breathes deeply “i wanna see your face while you cum in mine”. chris hesitated but then agreed, as a way to make him know he was grateful for that amazing night he is having.

yn was speechless, chris was so pretty, beautiful, gorgeous. those words weren't enough to describe his looks. “what?” chris asked with some concern. “nothing.. it’s just that you're so beautiful, i-i-i really mean it” chris can almost see stars sparkling on his eyes, ‘cute’ he thought.

with just a few more strokes chris came on the other’s face, some of it landing on his tongue so he swallowed it, “i like your flavor mr. chris” he clean his face and kissed him.

“thank you so much for tonight” chris bowed to yn, “i’ll never forget it”; “me neither” yn replied with a smile adorning his face, bowing back.

since that day little shop of eros was like a second home to chris, he went there almost every day just to see and chat with yn, sometimes they even had sex too. a cute relationship was born since that first night, that unforgettable sex night.

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Reddest Flags, Longest Nights

⩙ Summary: The year is 1989. The Berlin Wall has fallen, and Nintendo have just overseen the release of the Game Boy. The first ever episode of Baywatch has just aired, and Ted Bundy has just been executed by electric chair. Vox's relationship with the Radio Demon is on the rocks. Their solution? To add a third person to their bedroom: you

⩙ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Vox X reader X Alastor, Radiostatic is a committed relationship (well, they're trying), Reader is a girl and she has a pussy, tentacle sex

⩙ Other notes: This is set in a sexy alternate universe for the characters in @bapple117's Bluest Monday

“I'm not for sale,” you say. It's a truly stupid, suicidal thing to say, with the Television Demon's talons wrapped around your arm, and his associate the Radio Demon watching with amused interest as Vox pulls you into their private booth.

“Come now, dear, that surely isn't true.” It's not Vox who speaks, but Alastor, his tones the same genial, cheerful ones he uses for his broadcasts. “Everyone has a price, after all.”

“Everybody fuckin' wants something, yeah.” Vox agrees, releasing your arm once he's convinced that you won't immediately bolt away. He's not slurring his words, but his movements are clumsier than you would expect. He's drunk, you realize. Both of them are. “People want power. Money. Control.”

“Sex,” says Alastor, flashing a grin at Vox, who makes a noise like someone just tuned him to a dead channel, his face filling briefly with static.

“Shh-yeah, some people want sex, Al. That's a normal fuckin' thing to want.”

Alastor's smile grows, a little smug, a little cruel, and his red eyes turn to you. “What about you, dear? Do you want sex?”

“Al! You can't just fuckin' ask a girl that!”

“Last I checked I was better informed on etiquette than you, old chum,” Alastor's smile slides sideways. “And besides, if our interests align, there's a deal to be had.”

You hadn't come to the club intending to sell anything, but the two demons are adept negotiators- Alastor assuring you that no, he doesn't need your soul per se, just your services, services of a personal, private nature, and aren't you inclined to give those, isn't it in your own best interests? All the while Vox is giving a more direct incentive, the front of his boxy face focused on you, entirely you, dexterous talons skating over the exposed skin of your forearms with enough pressure to make you shiver, with the implied promise that he could touch you in less socially acceptable places, if only you would agree to what the Radio Demon was offering.

You're tempted. You're so, so tempted. You know that this is a bad idea, that these two are bad news to be around, that you should just go back to your normal sinner life, but instead you find yourself leaning in to listen more closely to Alastor's solicitations, and Vox, still touching you, grows bolder, his hand dropping below the table to stroke your thigh.

The top of your thigh at first, skating the seams of your clothes, then dropping to your inner knee, Vox's claw drawing a daring line from your knee and up your inner thigh to your panties.

Your breath hitches, and Alastor tips his head at you, expression amused. “You seem distracted. Would you like me to repeat that last part?”

“Would ya like me to repeat that last part?” asks Vox, his grin as wide as his face and lecherous.

“I can make him stop, if you'd prefer,” says Alastor, with a casual menace.

It's hard to listen to the full terms and conditions with Vox's fingers massaging the fabric of your panties, and maybe that's the intention, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop, or even to ask Alastor to ask him to stop.

“What've you got to lose?” says Vox, his heavy box of a head nudging against your shoulder as the pads of his fingers press against your now slick-drenched gusset. Your thighs press together, his hand trapped between.

“Of course,” says Alastor. “If you'd like to think about it-”

“Oh, she's thinkin' about it, Al,” says Vox, his tone laden with filth.

“I'll do it!” you blurt, and both of their faces light like pinball machines. “I mean, yes.”

“Splendid,” chirps Alastor. “Now, as a rule, I will close a deal with a handshake, but for this-”

A kiss.

You've never imagined kissing the most terrifying demon in all of Pentagram city, so you have no idea what to expect, but Alastor's hand on your cheek is a feather light touch, a swirl of green magic around you. His lips on yours are chaste, brushing rather than prying, in stark contrast to Vox, who takes the opportunity to push your panties to the side with his fingers and stroke a slow line along your slick-coated inner lips. You whine against Alastor's mouth, and he slides his hand to the back of your head, holding you there as the deal is sealed.

That’s how you go home with them, Alastor holding the green chain that fastens to the shackle around your neck. Vox drives uptown, away from Voxtek, away from the Radio Demon’s broadcasting tower, and you end up in a quiet, well-appointed apartment in the most nondescript tower block that you have ever seen.

You note the shoe rack; the way that Vox’s shiny black dress shoes are stacked up next to Alastor’s bespoke deer-soled boots, and it occurs to you that this isn’t just Vox’s playboy apartment, as you’d expected. The two of them live together. There is only one bedroom.

“So, what now?” asks Alastor, holding out a gentlemanly arm for you to lean on as you remove your shoes in the entrance. “I believe your suggestion was to try new things, yes?”

“Jesus, Al.” Vox’s sigh is heavy. “We’ll just go to the bedroom, undress, and, uh, see where we go, yeah?”

“See where we go?” Alastor’s voice inflects upwards into his upper registers, the sound of a capacitor about to burst, and you realize that you are in considerable danger.

Alastor is grinning, but his body language is stressed, his ears back, lips pulled back over his gums to show the most of his teeth. In your second possibly suicidal move of the night, you squeeze his arm, where you have been holding him since taking off your shoes.

Alastor’s gaze snaps to you, eyes dangerously red, but there’s uncertainty in the corners of his smile. He kissed you, back in the club, you reason, so he can’t find you entirely objectionable. You lower your gaze, sliding a hand up his forearm, and his ears shift, subtly. He exhales, a little of the tension going out of his chest, and you slide your hand to his upper arm, pushing him back against the coat rack behind him, pressing him against an electric blue shell jacket, and he just lets you.

If Alastor were half a foot shorter you would kiss him, but as it is he stares down at you, his smile a question, until finally he gets what you’re trying to do, and bends his knees fractionally so that you can stand on tiptoes and press your face to his.

You can feel his smile under your lips, parting as you dare to pry, your tongue finding his teeth, and then the tip of his tongue, cautious against yours. You can feel the little shiver of his breath, his hand down your back. At first you think he’s about to slip his hand under your waistband, but instead he spreads his large hand under your ass, cupping it, and lifts you off your feet.

You feel a moment of vertigo, and a swoop in your stomach that is definitely not vertigo as Alastor holds you with your face level to his and slips his entire tongue into your mouth. You took him initially as a conservative kisser, but perhaps he was holding back before. You groan against his lips, feeling heat spread into your lower half as his tongue explores your mouth, the tip probing the roof of your mouth, the soft flesh of the insides of your cheeks. It’s not just the kiss but the feeling of helplessness that it brings, of being held aloft by a being so much more powerful than you. Your knees press the coats either side of Alastor’s waist as he cradles your ass, your tongue lapping against his, eyes closed, arms locking around his shoulders. By the time he breaks the kiss you are gasping, heart pounding in your chest, and Alastor gives you an appraising look.

“You are very small,” Alastor comments, his face a little flushed from the kissing. He doesn’t set you down, however, shifting his forearm under you as you wrap your ankles around his waist, his staff in his other hand.

“Ah, she’ll do fine, Al,” says Vox with a glance over his shoulder, unbuttoning his shirt as he stalks through the living area and into the bedroom. Alastor follows, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

Seeing the bedroom only serves to solidify your impression that the two of them live here together. There is definitely Alastor’s side of the bed, with red deer themed slippers poking out from underneath, and Vox’s side of the bed, with a digital alarm clock and a special pillow with a square cutout for his head. Two powerful demons, together in secret. It’s enough to make your head spin as Alastor sets you down, gently, on the his side of the bed.

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do this.” Vox clambers onto the bed, shucking off his shirt, a pause before he reaches you, his hand on your knee. “You too, Al.”

“Must I?” Alastor gives a sideways sort of smile.

“You don’t say that in front of a girl!” barks Vox, and you get the impression he would be pulling his own hair, if he had any. “You’re gonna hurt her feelings or some shit. And yeah, Al, you gotta join in. Otherwise it’s just me fuckin’ a girl on the bed in front of you, and that’s not really a fuckin’ threesome now, is it?”

Alastor smiles thoughtfully. “You did say we would see where we go. I could read a book.”

“Fuck my life,” Vox mutters, flopping back, his boxy head hitting the duvet heavily.

You tug on Alastor’s sleeve again, catching his attention. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m aware,” says Alastor, expression guarded, smile thin. He pauses. “Are your feelings really hurt?”

Your smile is wry. You’d be lying if you said his reticence didn’t hurt, at least a little. “My ego, maybe?”

“Ah.” Alastor looks down at you, and you are caught for a second by just how red his eyes are, like rubies, or pools of fresh blood. His fingers whisper across your cheek, pushing away a strand of hair. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

Tossing his staff onto Vox’s supine form, Alastor climbs onto the bed. He cups your face in his hands and kisses you for the third time that evening, all pretense of propriety gone as he pushes you onto your back, your head onto his pillows and his tongue snaking its way into your mouth. It takes your breath away; you can feel nothing else, only the dance of your tongues and lips, slick with saliva, Alastor’s hands sliding down to your jaw and your neck with the barest pressure. He traces the lines of your arteries, almost absently, and you moan into his mouth as you feel your body respond to him, your pulse growing insistent between your legs. You spread your knees without even thinking about it, your cunt level with his navel as you lie shameless and gasping and red-faced beneath him.

“Now we’re talkin’” Vox grins sidelong at the two of you, propping himself up on his elbows. “You are such a fuckin’ tease, Al.”

“Mm…” Alastor looks down at you, his lips parted and shiny with spit. “I do hope that’s a compliment.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, and Alastor presses a finger lazily to your lips, his eyes narrowing fractionally as if to say no thanks needed.

Vox, meanwhile, is removing your panties. He’s not shy of the Radio Demon’s body either, his hand on Alastor’s flank as he makes the space he needs to get them off. In short order you are naked, your clothing peeled away and the sheets warm against your back, though with the gazes of the two men on you, the room feels far from cold. Vox is down to y-fronts, which his cock strains against valiantly, while Alastor keeps his trousers and shirt, his tie and waistcoat discarded beside the bed.

Vox kisses your breasts, not even trying for your face, Alastor sitting back to give him better access. Vox’s lips are strange, part of the curvature of his front glass and yet not, warm and staticky against your skin, supple as his lips curve around your nipple and suck. His tongue is stranger yet, its sensation alien as the buzzing of fluorescent lights as he traces a circle around your areola and brings your nipple to a shivering point. Vox repeats the action with your other breast, Alastor stroking the vents on the back of his boxy head, his expression unguarded and fond.

“Al-” Vox makes a frustrated noise, his breath hot on your breast. “Pay attention to the girl.”

Alastor smirks, his expression almost flirtatious. “I was,” he says, his eyes meeting yours briefly, “But you and your big head got in the way.”

“Oh for crying out loud, Al.” Vox pinches the top of his frame with two fingers, his other hand on your breast. “There’s plenty to be done here-” Vox’s hand moves down your body, over the softness of your stomach and to your sex, a reassuring squeeze on your hip.

Alastor looks at you, your pink cunt spread open for him, and his brow knits slightly. He’s still touching your leg, hand stroking your shin where it rests against his waist. He’s nervous, you realize. Afraid of fucking up. Afraid of spoiling things.

“Wait-” Vox’s face is thoughtful as he reaches the same conclusion. “You’ve never eaten a girl out, have you?”

“I’ll have you know,” says Alastor, his spine straightening a little. “That I ate two ladies just last week.”

“No, fuck- I mean… eat pussy, Al.”

Alastor raises an eyebrow. “Certainly not!” he pipes. “The taste is revolting, the fur gets stuck in my teeth, and they have too many small bones.”

Vox gives a growl, and you find yourself holding back a laugh. Alastor catches your eye again, his eyes narrowing, red and beautiful as he bends to kiss your knee, a brush of his thin lips. “As my friend here has surmised, I am new to the neighborhood,” he says, his smile a little embarrassed as his gaze travels your inner thigh. “If you would be amenable to showing me around?”

You had expected the Radio Demon to be dominant in the bedroom, to take charge and fill the room with slapping, squelching sounds, but instead he is quiet, his gaze intent as you nervously spread yourself for him. You don’t know what directions he might want, so you hesitate, shrinking back as his eyes seem to drink you in.

“May I?” he asks, and when you nod, he drags a finger through the wetness that seeps viscous from your cunt; a slow, deliberate touch that seems to set every nerve ending in its path aflame. He pulls the finger away, his expression fascinated as a clear string of slick stretches between his finger and your cunt. “How interesting!” he exclaims, before popping the finger in his mouth, eyes closing as he savors your taste.

Vox rests Alastor’s microphone across his knees, impatient. “Al, you’re meant to put your face down there.”

“I’m building anticipation,” says Alastor, his lips a thin smile. “And if you had an ounce of natural showmanship, you would understand that.”

Vox shakes his head, his hands and mouth going back to your breasts, your shoulders and your neck. Vox’s head is too large to comfortably fit in the crook of your neck, but his tongue more than makes up for that, slithering bright across the sensitive flesh of your throat as his claws gently knead your breasts. The biggest side effect of this is that Vox’s large head blocks your view, and you cannot see what Alastor is doing.

There is a cannibal overlord between your legs is the first thought that registers as Alastor’s lips move glacial up your inner thigh. He kisses, he sucks, and he tastes, his fingertips ghosting feather light over your hips and stomach, tracing lines from your navel to your mons.

Vox finally deigns to kiss your mouth as Alastor reaches your cunt. Alastor parts your labia, his long tongue stroking between your folds as Vox’s tongue slips into your mouth, the doubled sensation delicious in its intensity. Alastor’s movements are hesitant, almost conservative, but your cunt is sopping wet enough that even the stripes he licks up your inner labia have you moaning into Vox’s mouth, your hips bucking needy into Alastor’s face.

Alastor’s fingers squeeze into the flesh of your ass, holding you firm as he tends to you, his face pressed firmly into your cunt, lips dragging across slick pink flesh as his tongue probes, a breath of pause between each attempt, his hands weighing how much each teasing lick makes you strain against his grip. His nose brushes your clit, which makes your entire body twitch, and he repeats the action more deliberately a second time.

It’s not long before he has found the most sensitive parts of your anatomy, along with the pattern of touch that best makes you arch your back and cry out. Alastor’s tongue moves back and forth, sweeping hot and wet and divine over you as you spread your knees as wide as they will go, your stomach tightening as you arch your back.

“Holy fuck.” Vox breaks your kiss to look impressed, one clawed hand kneading your chest. “Al, you’re gonna make her cum.”

Alastor doesn’t answer, a primal growl into your cunt, and you cannot answer, the only noise in your throat a mewl of helpless pleasure as Alastor, a man who has spent decades in Hell inflicting pain on souls attacks your nerve endings with a furious precision. You’re going to cum, and you don’t have a choice about it, not with his grip steely on your hips. You want to beg, but your lips can’t even form words as Alastor’s tongue robs you of sense, of language, of decorum, each movement of his mouth sending you hurtling towards the edge. Vox’s hands on you are marginalia to the treatise on pleasure that Alastor’s mouth writes.

It occurs to you, as your orgasm hits, crashing over you and shattering you into pieces, that Alastor might have ruined sex with other men for you. Alastor carries on, tongue pressing into too sensitive flesh through your aftershocks, even as you whine and try to twist away, until Vox touches his shoulder and stops him.

“She’s done, Al,” says Vox, his claws gentle in your hair, and you whimper against the warmth of his chest as Alastor releases you. “Hey, babydoll,” murmurs Vox, the proximity of his screen making the hair on the top of your head stand on end. “You good?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow, language returning to you in bits and pieces, and look at Alastor, who kneels between your legs still, his face glistening with your juices. His eyes are uncertain, and you reach out to him, catching his thin wrists and pulling him to you.

“You’re good at that,” you say, looking up at Alastor as you lie sandwiched between the two of them, Vox’s strong arms around your waist, Vox’s cock pressing into your lower back.

Alastor kisses you, tasting of you, and pulls back, looking pleased with himself. “It’s a lot like torture,” he says, eyes half lidded. “All I need to do is listen to your screams.”

“God fuckin’ damn it, Al,” grouses Vox. “It’s always the horror show stuff with you.”

“God forbid a man have hobbies,” Alastor’s head tilts, but there’s no venom to his reprise. “And for your information,” he adds, a glance at you. “It’s not always torture. I also enjoy dancing.”

You laugh into your hands, the afterglow of your orgasm filling you with a pleasant kind of warmth, and Alastor steals another kiss, grinning all the while.

“What now?”

“Now?” Vox grins, dangerous. “Now it’s your turn, Al.”

Alastor’s smile becomes fixed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Vox’s smile grows wider, and he disentangles himself from you, a crackling kiss to the side of your head. “C’mere.”

Alastor gives an undignified squeak as Vox leaps and tackles him into the bedsheets, dexterous claws on the buttons of his shirt and his fly.

“Impudent! I can undress mysel- mm!” Alastor is silenced as Vox catches his chin and kisses him, open mouthed, long blue tongue lapping your juices from Alastor’s chin, and you watch as Alastor melts for the Television Demon, his shoulders going slack, his shadow splaying itself across the pillows. Alastor’s shirt comes off without complaint, and you crawl over to touch him, your hands on his narrow chest, his shoulders, his arms, as Vox undresses him the rest of the way. Alastor’s heart is beating fast; you can feel it through your hand on his sternum, like a butterfly’s wings beating futile against a glass windowpane, but it slows as Vox kisses his back, and Alastor places a clawed hand over yours. “I suppose you both mean to fuck me,” he says, a little sulkily.

“You tryna say you don’t want that, Al?” Vox’s teeth glow as he grins. “You don’t want me to fuck you as the lovely girl here sucks you off?”

Alastor’s smile purses, but he can’t bring himself to say no, not with you staring up at him prettily and Vox growling sweet nothings into his neck.

His cock stands at attention, the tip red and angry, and you take him in your palms before you get on all fours and take him in your mouth, feeling the quiver that runs through his stomach as your mouth envelops him.

“F-fuck,” Alastor hisses, filter failing, his hand in your hair as Vox’s talons circle his narrow waist. He’s sensitive- you can tell that much from your first few sucks, his precum salty and organic tasting, each movement of your tongue drawing soft noises from his throat. Part of that might be Vox working him open, your position in the bed lowering fractionally as Vox pushes Alastor’s knees apart.

“See, you want it, don’t you Al? Gettin’ completely fucked.” You feel Alastor’s talons tighten in your hair as Vox pushes into him, Alastor’s cock twitching against the back of your mouth, and you breathe through your nose, enjoying the feeling of Alastor coming undone.

“Vox!” Alastor’s voice is tight, high in his register, and Vox slows, stroking him and easing him through sensation, the two demons’ hips moving in tandem as Alastor ruts into your mouth, a strangled noise in his throat.

“Say you like it, say we fuck you good,” Vox growls soft, but the only things coming from Alastor’s mouth are obscenities, his senses overwhelmed by the two of you working together.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Alastor’s chest heaves, his eyes screwed shut, his lip bleeding where he has bitten it, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every roll of his hips, a lewd little whimper escaping his lips with the apex of each of Vox’s thrusts.

“There you are,” Vox breathes, seeming to sense Alastor’s imminent climax before Alastor himself. You feel Alastor’s cock swell in your mouth, his grip tightening. “We got you, Al. Let go.”

“Don’t -ngh- tell me what to do,” says Alastor, emptying his load into your mouth, hot and salty. He gasps, and you swallow it down. “Shit.”

“Oh, you’re so good, Al. So fuckin’ good.” Vox’s voice is a groan as he presses his face crackling into Alastor’s hair and starts to fuck him in earnest.

You move your face from Alastor’s cock, and it would be the easiest thing in the world to lay back on the pillows with Alastor’s microphone and watch the show, but instead Alastor grabs your wrists and pins you under him as Vox pushes him to all fours, and Alastor kisses you, unreserved and passionate. He tastes of you, and you of him, small whimpers still escaping him as Vox fucks him. Your fingers are in his hair, over his ears, over his antlers, his thin back, and he holds you to his chest, lips locked with yours as Vox finishes inside him, the three of you shivering with it, the room still in the aftermath.

“Ngh.” Vox’s screen shows a test card for a good twenty seconds. “Fuck.”

“Yes,” Alastor agrees, a slow exhalation as Vox withdraws from him.

The three of you are side by side in the bed for a moment as Vox drops to the sheets. Vox’s breathing is labored, Alastor’s more controlled, and neither of them speak.

Alastor rolls onto his back, turning to Vox. “You’d best wash up.”

“What?” Vox narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s rude,” says Alastor, with a coy smile. “To keep a lady waiting.”

“Oh.” Vox stares at you as if he’s just remembered you are there, face coloring. “Oh. Shit. Yeah. Keep her warm for me, Al.”

Alastor takes his staff back in one hand, and pulls you to him with the other, your head nestled nicely against his bony shoulder as you watch Vox disappear into the bathroom, water running. It feels as if you could both drift off like this, comfortable and satiated, and you almost do, until Alastor’s fingers start tracing a slow line from your knee to your thigh, and your eyes flicker open.

“He’ll be pissy if he finds us asleep,” says Alastor, his tone amused. “So, unless you want to see him blow a fuse-”

You swallow as you feel him part your labia with his fingers, careful with his claws as he drags the pads of his fingers through the slickness that seeps from you. “Is this really the best way to stay awake?”

“Probably not,” admits Alastor. “But it is one of the more entertaining ones, don’t you agree?”

“Very,” you agree, your breath hitching as Alastor’s finger graces the base of your clitoris, drawing a small circle, pressing your flesh against the bone of your pelvis with his fingertips. “I am very entertained right now.”

“A performer is nothing without his audience,” quips Alastor, but his smile seems genuine. You’re wondering how he’s going to manage his claws if he fingers you when he extrudes a long black tentacle from his back. “Open wide now.”

Your legs spread, Alastor strokes your knee, the back of your calf, the arch of your foot, and his tentacle slithers, wrapping fully around the meat of your thigh before its tip teases at your cunt.

He doesn’t penetrate you right away, which is a good thing; ready and willing as you are the tentacle is girthy. Instead, Alastor teases with it, his smile relaxed and his ears pricked as he listens to your breathing, your sighs. Your words, when you are able to use them.

“There, there, just there,” you tell him, and your reward is a squeeze of his hand on your ankle, his breathy voice in your ear, telling you what a good audience you are tonight, how supportive, how participatory. The tentacle moves in tandem with his hand, the tip twirling at your entrance as he strokes the folds of your cunt, dragging slick from your hole up over your clit, coaxing it from its hood, his touch so light that it makes you hold your breath, and then firm, a pressure that has you gasping, moaning so loudly that he holds his microphone to your lips and asks you to repeat yourself.

When Alastor’s tentacle pushes its way into you, you are ready, more than ready, speechless at the girth of it and giving heady little gasps as you feel yourself stretch around him.

“You’d better not reach the climax before Vox gets back,” says Alastor, a soft murmur in your ear as you whimper, senseless against his chest. “He really will blow a fuse if you do that.” He’s enjoying himself, you realize. He’s playing with you, his smile relaxed as he manipulates your body to his liking.

But you are already mounting the summit, your body helpless in Alastor’s clutches. He barely needs to use his fingers, not with the tentacle pressed into you, an obscene squelching noise as he curves it in and out of you; Alastor simply holds his fingertips over the tip of your clit and lets the motion of the tentacle do the rest of the work, each brush of contact with the exposed nub of flesh like a lick of flame across your nerves that makes you cry out, over and over, until your throat is hoarse with it.

You cum as Vox returns, a spasm through your body, your cunt fluttering around Alastor’s tentacle, and the Radio Demon grins at Vox.

If Vox’s eyes weren’t just images displayed on his screen, they would be bulging right now. He stares. Alastor grins at him.

“Al.” Vox’s lips are an annoyed line as he watches Alastor pull his tentacle out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing. “How the fuck am I meant to compete with that monster?” His cock is well proportioned to his frame, but it’s nothing compared to the tentacle. You look between the two demons, hoping they’re not going to fight.

Alastor’s grin widens. “You’re a resourceful man, Vox. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Vox shakes his head as he climbs back on the bed. “You’ve always gotta fuckin’ upstage me, huh.”

“That’s why you like me so much,” says Alastor. “Isn’t it?”

“Ah, fuck you, Al,” says Vox, all bark, and Alastor beams at him.

Alastor pulls you on top of him, your back to him, and hooks his chin over the top of your head, so that you both face Vox when he climbs atop you, on his hands and knees.

Vox kisses you, softly, hand cupping your face, and you feel Alastor’s sound of approval through your back, the low hum of an electrical appliance.

“You ready, babydoll?” Vox asks, and when you nod, he pushes into you.

You feel him. Your orgasm has made you tender, Alastor’s tentacle has made you tender and you feel every inch of Vox as if your cunt were just made yesterday, shipped direct from the factory.

“Oh fuck, that’s nice babydoll.” Fragments of test card float on Vox’s screen as he pauses, in you to the hilt. “You feel fuckin’ nice. Fuckin’ soft, god.”

You feel Alastor huff into your hair with amusement, and he reaches for your legs, pulling up your thighs and then your knees, pulling your legs flush with your chest; a mating press for you and Vox.

Vox grins, his hands joining Alastor’s on the underside of your knees, and he fucks you in earnest.

That his cock is smaller than Alastor’s tentacle doesn’t matter one bit, not when you’re pressed like this, his cock able to reach the deepest parts of your tender cunt with ease. He fucks you, and you cry out; not the mewling whimper you had before but a full throated cry that escapes you at the apex of each thrust, your throat already sore, your voice cracking, but crying out regardless.

Vox’s monologue is all sweet, sweary nothings- you’re doing so good babydoll, so wet for me, so soft, so good, so fuckin’ good and Alastor’s commentary is drier- do you think you’ll be able to walk again after this? Now that’s a scream worthy of my studio, all the while you are crying out, tears in your eyes, a pressure in your abdomen, Vox hammering into the most sensitive parts of you, over and over and oh.

Your cunt flutters again, Vox growling a good girl before his seed floods into you in hot, pulsing waves.

You lie there, boneless, seeing stars, the three of you breathing hard. Vox drops his face onto your chest, and you stroke his hot vents, as you’ve seen Alastor do. Alastor lets go of your legs, a kiss to the top of your head.

“Fuck,” murmurs Vox.

“Seconded,” you croak.

“Mm,” buzzes Alastor. “Quite.”

Vox rolls off you, and you roll off Alastor, the three of you side by side on the bed, points of contact between you; your leg crossing Alastor’s thigh, Vox’s arm across your stomach.

It is a long, hazy moment before Vox sits up, digging through the dresser on the Vox side of the bed, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

“In the apartment?” Alastor complains, sleepy.

“It’s a fuckin’ special occasion, Al,” says Vox, leaning over you to place a cigarette between Alastor’s smiling lips. Alastor takes it, and Vox lights it, before offering the box to you. “You smoke?” he asks.

If you didn’t already, it was a hell of a time to start.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: Mentions of suicide attempt

"You're not crazy, Y/n! If anyone thinks so, they're the crazy ones-"

You laugh. "Thanks, Jason. I like being friends with you too."

"Jesus, keep it down, would ya," you say groggily, rubbing your eye as you walk out of your room, utterly confused at the commotion unravelling in the lobby. "The fuck is going on?"

"You people are insane! I'd rather be with Deathstroke than with you assholes..." Jason says, the last statement he claims more quietly. A harsh truth, revealing how little his supposed teammates thinks of him.

"Jason drew crosses all over my mirror after telling me to go get looked at by a fucking priest!" Rachel yells in anger.

You looked over at Jason in confusion.

"Yeah, I told her to get looked at, so what?" Jason yells back. "You almost fucking killed me! And I didn't draw those crosses, I haven't got a fucking clue what you're on about, how many time do I have to say it!"

You stare at the two, still delirious from your interrupted nap. Jason would say some fucked up stuff but drawing crosses? He wouldn't go that far. Barking and yapping is the most he'd do.

"And he put a beer bottle in my room," Hank says.

"And a picture of Elis," Dawn adds.

"And an orange soda bottle," Donna finishes.

The adults list the things Jason presumably planted in their rooms. But for what motif? Just to piss them off? Wait. Jason literally fell from a building like, what? Yesterday? Why the fuck would he pull this shit then..

"Wait, wait, wait. Pause, I can not stress this enough," you say. "I understand Rachel's situation, what the fuck about you guys?" You ask the other adults.

"Jason just put some shit that was deeply connected to our past in our room. If he pulls something like this again, I'll forget what team he's on," Hank replies.

You cross your arms. "Okay, did any of yous tell Jason about this deep shit about your past?"

Rachel and Gar's head turned to the adults as they all looked at each other with doubt.

"Oh my fucking days," You scoffed, aggressively rubbing your temples.

Before you can scold at them, you notice Jason is already gone.

Jeez, maybe I am a shit teammate.

You ram into his room first and instantly run out when you see he's not there. You check the surveillance room, the training room. Not there, either. Finally, you speed up to the roof. And there he was, standing at the edge.

Your heartbeat's pace picked up.

"Jason," you called out. He looked over his shoulder, then looked right ahead of him.

"C'mon, Jason, get down from there. We can work this out," you slowly say, taking small steps towards him.

You see him shake his head. "There's nothing to work out," he says. "I'm just gonna fuck things up again. There's a poison in me. That shit spreads. Hurts even the most healthy people."

You stip at a safe distance where Jason wouldn't make any irrational movements if you'd come any closer, and you lean against the ledge near him.

"Mm, well, what about people who's already unhealthy?"

Jason turns his head to look at you in confusion.

"Jason, all of us here has been through some tough shit. From my experience, this 'poison' you're talking about, it's nothing compared to what I had to face. I'm sorry that they accused you, Jason. I don't even know why they did- they don't even have a good reason to," you explain, making sure he knew that you were not against him, that he wasn't alone.

"I don't know if this makes any difference," you continue, "but I believe that you didn't do any of that."

"You don't?" Jason asks in disbelief, yet still a hint of hope in his voice.

"Of course I don't. You're my teamma... You're my friend, Jason," you reply back, thinking it's safe to step closer to him as you reach a hand out towards him. "Please come down," you pleaded.

Jason stares at your offering hand for a while, then glances the view in front of him before returning his gaze to your hand.

He sighs, taking your hand in his and steoping diwn from the ledge, leaving a gasp of relief from you before you pull him into a tight embrace.

A few seconds later, you push him away, realising you may have crossed some boundaries.

"Sorry.. I- I'm just glad you came down," you admitted as Jason just shrugged in reply.

You sighed as you sat down, your back leaning against the ledge, patting the ground beside you, inviting Jason to sit beside you.

"Jason, you are kind of an asshole. I mean, you did tell Rachel to go get looked at by a priest- I know she almost tried to kill you, but she still needs to get a hold of her powers. I'm not saying it's not a reason to be scared of her! If I was in your place, I'd be freaked out by her, too. Just give her some time. Plus, you did call both her and Rose freaks..." Jason slightly nods at his mistake. "But... you're one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met," you admit as it seemed like Jason's head could've snapped off his neck from how fast he turned.

"Don't let it get to your ego," you say before continuing, "I mean, you can spar blindfolded! You survived being kidnapped by Dr. Light and Deathstroke. Oh... and Jason," you call out to him before you shift yourself to face him properly. "I know you're always saying you're okay after your... fall. But it's not a sign of weakness to ask for help. You don't need to prove yourself to anybody. Not to me, at least," you finish, placing a hand kn his shoulder for assurance.

All Jason does is look at you, probably searching for any sort of trap or lies or whatnot. You believe you've said too much that things got awkward and he probably wants to be alone.

"Yeah.. I've been talking for too long," you agree to his probable thoughts as you try to get up.

But Jason stops you, grabbing a hold of your arm.

"No," he says, "I... Thank you," he confesses as you take your place back on the ground. "Yeah, I guess I am an asshole," he continues, looking at the concrete underneath him. "I don't know... It's just shit I say. Sometimes, I say it without thinking. I say a lot of shit without thinking," he admits his wrongdoings.

"And that's okay," you reply, placing your hand on top of his. "We make mistakes. But we talk it out, and we forgive."

"I didn't put all that shit there or draw the crosses, I swear-"

"Jason, you don't need to try convince me. I told you, I believe you," you reassure him.

"Didn't really believe that you believed me," he shrugged. "The others still probably think I'm insane."

"If they do, I'll just punch some sense into them," you tell him. "Besides, they can't think you're any crazier than me."

Jason's eyebrows scrunched together. "What do you mean?"

"Oh shit," you laughed. "You never knew about how I became a Titan, and how I even met the others,."

Jason shakes his head.

"Well, I was running away from my mom. Criminal, but not one of those well-known ones. Robbed a few jewels here and there, had some of her workers try and catch me. Then, when I lost them, the only place I could think of staying was an alleyway. Luckily, it was on the safe side of town. That's when Dick found me. Brought me back to the tower-"

"He really has a thing for bringing unconscious people back to the tower, huh?" Jason interrupts, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"That sounds horrible without context," you say, then continue, "but yeah. When I woke up, I was absolutely shitting myself. I was my bag, but when I got to the elevator, the passcode wouldn't unlock. That's when everyone came. Hank, Dawn, Donna, Dick, Gar, and Rachel. I was so freaked out. So I threw my homemade bombs at them-"

"I'm sorry, bombs??"

"Calm down. They were just glitter bombs," you say as Jason makes a face in both confusion and amusement.

"Bht my mom taught me a few tricks. Pinned Gar to the wall with a couple of knives. Dawn was stuck to the floor with some knives, too. I think Hank was blinded by some glitter. But yeah, eventually, they got me to calm down," you finish, laughing at the memory.

"Jesus... I still can't get over the glitter bombs. I thought you just made flash and concussion bombs," Jason says.

You shook your head. "Nah, I only learned how to make those later. The glitter bombs were just a hobby. So, I guess you yourself aren't as insane as you think you are. I mean, even when I used to go to school, kids would think that I'm crazy, but I probably am, like, glitter bombs as a hobby? I-"

"You're not crazy, Y/n! If anyone thinks so, they're the crazy ones-"

You laugh. "Thanks, Jason. I like being friends with you too."

Jason's reaction is hesitant, but he smiles and laughs with you.

"C'mon, let's go back down. You need a rest. A long rest. We can even listen to that loud metal music you listen to," you say as you get up, dusting yourself off.

suggestions for part 2?

Jason copies you, getting up and wiping any dirt off from his pants, and a genuine smile on his face as he follows you down back to his room.

[khaire-traveler]

⚔️ Subtle Nemesis Worship ⚖️

Stand up for yourself and others

Join causes that you're passionate about; attend a protest if it's safe to do so (don't risk your well-being please)

Learn self-defense (includes weapons)

Support human rights or abuse survivor organizations

Educate yourself on historical breeches of human rights and how they still affect people today; educate yourself on oppression

Get a candle that reminds you of her (no altar needed)

Wear jewelry that reminds you of her

Keep a picture of her in your wallet

Have imagery of swords, scales, whips, lashes, daggers, or apple branches around

Have a stuffed animal goose or griffin

Eat an apple

Grow an apple tree or thistle plant

Be kind to yourself and others

Prioritize your well-being; put your needs first

Assert your personal boundaries; learn what your boundaries are

Practice patience, especially with people you dislike or who annoy you

Cook a meal for someone in need

Volunteer at a homeless or animal shelter

Donate supplies to a homeless shelter; blankets, warm clothes, and canned foods during the winter are especially needed; hygiene kits are often highly sought after year round

Cook a meal for your loved ones

Practice empathy for others (not at the risk of your own well-being, however; empathy does not equal self-sacrifice)

Try not to support companies or organizations that are morally corrupt or supporting things that go against human rights (Chick-fil-A, Starbucks, Salvation Army, etc.)

Educate yourself about corrupt organizations and companies so you know which to avoid

Be gentle with yourself when going through something difficult

Apologize for your mistakes, even if it's hard; only do this if you are prepared for a potentially negative reaction, however

Hold others accountable for their actions; don't let people off the hook constantly

Hold yourself accountable for your actions; take responsibility when necessary

Light a bonfire in her honor; write down bad things that have been down to you on paper; burn them in the fire (safely!!!); focus on the feeling of retribution

Take a warm shower/bath after a long day, especially if you're feeling down on yourself

Write encouraging affirmations on sticky notes and place them where you'll see them

Make a list of your strengths and weaknesses; celebrate what you're proud of, work on what you're not

Express yourself in little ways if you can't be fully open; a bracelet to represent your gender, pride flag colored shoelaces, etc.

Celebrate your accomplishments; you did a great job!

Feed neighborhood cats, dogs, birds, etc.

Engage in random acts of kindness; holding the door for someone, complimenting a stranger, helping someone carry things if they're struggling, tipping well, etc.

Take care of yourself physically and emotionally

Practice restraint; learn to hold your tongue if it would only escalate a bad situation

Engage with self-care often, especially when feeling unwell

Practice emotional regulation; allow yourself to feel your feelings; find healthy emotional outlets

Work on forgiving yourself of past mistakes; learn from it, and move on

Let go of people or things that do not contribute to your life in a positive way

Focus on yourself, your future, and your well-being rather than focusing on the success or torment of others; YOU matter, YOUR success matters!!!

When you make promises, try to hold yourself to completing them

Build makeshift animal shelters for animals, especially in the winter season (bird houses out of wood, cat houses of old coolers, etc.)

Engage in activities you're passionate about; drawing, crafting, bike riding, etc.

Play with pets if you have any

Exercise; get movement throughout your day

Pick up trash in your neighborhood or environment; don't litter

Don't kick someone while they're down; offer them a hand up

Treat vulnerability with kindness rather than hostility

Give yourself compliments; wear things that make you feel attractive or badass

-

I may add more to this later! For now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Nemesis. I hope this helps someone, and take care, y'all! ❤️

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, Miss Raven! What're your thoughts on the new characters' designs and the new cards we're getting?

[You can see the designs for the Halloween 2023 cards and other related TWST news here!]

I'll post my general thoughts below! I unfortunately don't know enough about Pinocchio myself to point out all the little easter eggs in their outfits, so I'll leave that to those who are more knowledgeable than me.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Regarding the NRC boys' looks overall, I think it's a very fun theme and very fitting for the location of the event. I like that they all still wear masks, just in a different context than in Glorious Masquerade. One thing I did notice is that the masks seem... same-y? Like they all resemble thick tree roots or something like that. So maybe they aren't masks at all, but they're associated with whatever the conflict in the story is. (I previously suggested mind control or the loss of consciousness, so maybe the "roots" play into that???) You can see the marionette theme Yana was going for, as well as some design elements from Black Butler's circus arc, very clearly. The poses for each of the boys, even the R cards, are extremely dynamic and imply a strong sense of movement. The ribbons are such a simple detail that contributes a lot to this sense of whimsy and flow.

Some comments I have on specific designs and poses:

Suspenders are so... Trey 💀 THERE'S REALLY NOTHING ELSE FOR ME TO ADD HERE, THEY JUST SUIT HIM

I like it when Trey makes these kind of slightly sus but plausibly deniable faces... He should make more of them...

I can't see the front of Jack's outfit that well, so I don't know if I can fully comment on it??? But I can see his. Like. Physique... coming through... That chest to waist ratio/j

Seeing Jack's tail like that kinda weirds me out. I think that's the first time we've gotten a "full" view of how the tails look coming out of the pants??? So maybe I'll get more used to it with time...

J WORD MY BELOVED dghgqwktvwukdviu1vdutw1513FR7vuofOTVUofvfaafvfyivs.,bk;mobsdb;ibuafetvuqoffSEythTOTqebivfguovqnafCUtuiUIEtt please ignore my bias 🤡 The way his top hat is angled and how there's a dark blue ribbon around him... It vaguely looks like he's trying to pass as Crowley, LOL

I like how his undershirt is frilled and how he has that sash at his waist it reminds me of the genderbent design for my TWST OC! The fact that both he and Floyd have the eel emblem that resembles a heart is also really cute~

Lilis is my favorite design of the R cards!! There's a very good distribution of ruffles throughout the look, and his knotted skirts fit well with his personal flair.

I'm not a huge fan of the style of hat Cater's wearing (sorry to all the Cay-kun stans out there), but I can appreciate his look. His dress appears more militant than Trey's, and his posing is certainly more aggressive--it's nice to see him in this new light.

FHIBBAILAIBASIADIHBLBUDB EVERY TIME I SEE L*ONA NOW I'M GOING TO THINK OF THE ONE REBLOG I SAW THAT SAID "of course leona has his tits out again" BECAUSE THEY'RE RIGHT, HE'S LITERALLY THE GIRLIE THAT DRESSES SLUTTY ON HALLOWEEN AND SOMEHOW NEVER GETS COLD 😭 You go, king... Live your best life!!

Love L*ona-san’s new hairstyle here!! 👀

The way Floyd is posed reminds me of those people that walk around on stilts. I think I much prefer the coloration on Floyd's outfit than on Jade's, but I prefer Floyd's jacket to Jade's. I think Floyd's the best of the SR designs!

Shockingly, Vil's look doesn't stand out to me that much??? I enjoy his sash, but I don't immediately pick up on anything in his illustration that catches my eye.

His pose resembles that of a ballerina, which just makes me think about the time he assigned Epel and Deuce extra (ballet) dance lessons in book 5 ajdbhasivldsadued

Of the SSRs, Ace is definitely my favorite one. He just looks so dramatic soaking up that spotlight and trying to look cool while doing it... Bro's 100% thinking, "heheheheh, I'm SO awesome :))" in his head.

Ace's design also reminds me a lot of Jack Hearts (from Disney Villain Recruiters). Not sure if it was intentional or not, but I'm definitely super into it!

HHNNNNNGNGHGHHGHGNGNGHHGHGHGHGHHHHH I WANNA BITE HIS HEAD OFF AND BULLY HIM SO BAD, I WANNA WIPE THAT SMIRK OF FHIS DUMB FACEe Am I seriously about to revert back to my Brat Loving era for Trappola... Maybe so...

I was pretty much expecting a SSR Ace (because he's a trickster with a brother that works in an amusement park) and Ortho (literally a robot that became a real boy), but Kalim took me by surprise. In hindsight, I guess it makes sense though...? Kalim has a similar immature vibe as the other two (plus I do remember there being this one scene in Aladdin where the Sultan was dressed like a jester that was being maneuvered on puppet strings).

It's great that Kalim gets to be a little out of his usual element and make darker, more mysterious expressions like what we see in his new illustration. I'm not sure if I entirely agree with how he's dressed (the yellow jacket is WAY too bright), but I love his his coattails (???) trail behind him in waves.

OR-KUN MY SON 😭😭😭 As is the case with all of his gears, I adore how the devs creatively adapted clothing into metal parts for Ortho! The half-caplet is easily the best part of the whole look for me (the pattern on it reminds me of stars falling down)--and because Ortho has a smaller stature, the type of hat he's wearing isn't as offputting; it actually looks very cute on him.

ANYWAY, VERY HAPPY THAT ORTHO GETS TO HAVE A HALLOWEEN SSR TO MATCH HIS BROTHER'S HALLOWEEN SSR FROM LAST YEAR... They match!!!

... Is that the fucking cricket on Ortho’s cape... and the goldfish on Kalim’s scarf… AND THE CAT ON ACE’S WAIST… What does this meeeean 🤡

And now for my thoughts on the two new boys!! Honestly?? I don't actually have much to comment on in this regard because I try to reserve my judgment of characters until I've actually seen them in action. I haven't seen Pinocchio either, so I don't have a strong basis for what their personalities would be like based on their original Disney counterpart. I only vaguely understand that Honest John and Gideon trick children into visiting Pleasure Island... That's it, that's the full extent of my knowledge on that pair. I don't have any other expectations going in other than "yeah, these two are going to swindle me".

Gidel looks like a mix of Cheka and Ruggie to me (because of the hair and the eye shape). He seems like he’ll be the other guy’s goon, similar to how Jade and Floyd/Ruggie follow Azul/Leona. Nothing else for me to add, Gidel seems alright… Just a silly lil’ guy!

I have more… mixed thoughts on Ferro. One one hand, he looks like the exact kind of shady bitch I’d love. (You know, the ones that smile and lie and manipulate and drive a knife into your back and—LOOK, HE’S VERY J WORD CORE) On the other hand, I’m beating back the “you like cat/dog boys” allegations from my friends, so 💀 I can’t give in so easily/j

Looks-wise, Ferro’s iteration of the rat tail hair is not as ugly to me as Malleus’s is. (I think it’s because it looks more windswept!) I also really like how he dresses—very dapper 😌 and he can pull off green eyeshadow well!

I’m wondering how they’ll make Ferro different than the other con artists we’ve seen so far *eyes Octavinelle* but I’m keeping my hopes up since the devs did a good job remixing the “I have a dead brother and I feel immense guilt about it” backstory for Rollo (when Idia had a similar one). Looking forward to that~

I’m sure my thoughts will chance once I actually get to see them in the event! ^^ I’ll keep you posted. For now, I’ll keep cautious. (Actually, this fan art basically summarizes my current feelings on the two! I’m Rollo/j)

[leaflessfae]

:)

Synopsis: everyone on campus knew Bailey and Eden always did everything together, but who knew it meant if one of them took interest in their sweetheart of a friend, the other had to be there?

Pairing: M! Bailey x F! reader x M! Eden

Content. MDNI: college! AU, younger Bailey and Eden, yes they're still friends here because I can, bestfriends even, drug use (not mentioned explicitly, but you're drugged from the very start), dub-con, noncon, threesome, Bailey instructs Eden, double penetration (in v), unprotected, oral (m + f receiving), spitting, manhandling?, booyys kissiiiinngg 🤭, belly bulge, uhhh I hope that's all.

(If I missed anything please inform me and I'll add it <3)

A/N: if you know me irl, no you don't

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"C'mere. Get a closer look at her." Silken smooth voice rumbles from behind you, the vibration bouncing off his chest and against your back. Your hazy eyes barely grasp what's going on, and you can only figure out who he is from the strong cologne that radiates off his skin– Bailey.

There's movement, and then a silhouette of a larger body starts clouding your vision. Eden stands with his shirt discarded, flushed skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as his chest rises up and down, buff muscles outlined by the dim lighting of the room. His eyes drink you in with such avidity you'd think he'd eat you alive.

Your breath is heavy and it feels so damn hot; something must be wrong. Your thoughts stammer to retrieve memories of sweaty bodies, overly loud music, and the swaying of your hips. Fleeting glimpses of familiar gazes and the sensation of a strong arm wrapping around your waist, the same silky voice that belongs to Bailey telling you he ordered drinks while his best friend, Eden, sits in silence that could speak volumes. You've known them for quite a while now, so you didn't think much of it as he pulled you from the dance floor, even giggled and swayed on the way.

You're snapped back to reality when you feel your legs being torn apart further, and when you look down you're greeted by the sight of your bare pussy being spread. "So wet for us already. Dirty little slut. Been fantasizing about being our sweet fucktoy?" Bailey whispers right into your ear, "Look– you're leaking all over my boxers."

You can only whine and squirm, but his grip on the back of your knees keeps you spread and vulnerable as Eden shuffles closer. "Clean her up, Eden."

You can barely gasp in time because Eden complies without a word. His throat bobs as he gulps, and he kneels until he's level with your hot core. "Thank you." Hot breath fans your folds as he uses two of his fingers to part them, a sharp hiss escaping his throat before he dives nose-deep into your pussy.

A moan is ripping out of your throat at his impatient tongue, swirling and licking while his lips kiss and suck. There's no rhythm, he just laves sloppily at your cunt, sometimes fast and others slow; can't build a steady rhythm to get you off. Something that Bailey takes notice of at once.

"Stop." He speaks, yet Eden keeps licking into your slit which prompts Bailey to jerk you up and away from Eden's greedy mouth by his hold on the back of your knees, as if you were a rag doll to maneuver however he pleases. Eden shoots him a glare, but Bailey glares back harder. "You're not doing it right."

"Keep her open." Bailey commands and Eden complies by wrapping a calloused hand on the back of your thigh, spreading you further– if it is even possible. Now that Bailey's hand is free, he snakes it down slowly, purposely letting you feel his large hand slithering across your tummy before finally tipping it down.

He uses two of his fingers to pull the hood of your pussy back, exposing your pretty clit. With his middle finger, he gives it a few gentle taps that make you almost scream with how sensitive your body is feeling, legs jerking and twitching. Were it not for the two men's firm hold on you, you would've fallen long ago.

Your head feels as if it were filled with glue, and there's a foreign tingle coursing through your veins; a tingle that feels too much to bear. Body feeling as if it were on fire, clit throbbing and core aching, your thighs sticky and your cunt clenching around nothing; it's ridiculous how you think you might fucking die if you don't get fucked right now. You miss whatever Bailey says to Eden next, something along the lines of 'that's the clit' and 'don't go too fast at once'. It takes tremendous effort for you to form barely coherent words. "...I don't feel very good..."

"I know, baby, I know. Eden is going to make you feel good right now."

"..wha... no, that's not what I– Ha!"

Eden's mouth latches on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and letting the tip of his tongue swirl around it. You cry out, your body far too sensitive as it instinctively tries to run away from his mouth, but he suddenly grips your hips and pulls them toward himself, forcing them to stay still as he devours your pussy.

"Slow, slow... go slower." You can feel Bailey's breath hitting your neck from behind as he helps keep you still for the man in between your legs. "Just like that. Yes, you're getting better at it."

Your gaze, clouded and misty, doesn't fail to notice how Eden practically shakes from where he's kneeling. You don't know if it's simply because he enjoys eating you out, or if it's Bailey's instructions and praise as he orders him to do exactly what's just right.

Eden listens and performs well, apparently, because you're soon a writhing moaning mess beneath him, tears gathered and spilling down your cheeks. Bailey tells him to go a bit faster, and he does; tells him to circle his tongue around your twitching hole and to bully it past the first tight ring of muscle, to taste you better, and he groans into your drenched folds as he does. You barely register Bailey telling Eden that it's okay to use his fingers before you feel a thick, long finger invade your walls.

Eden hooks his finger and massages your velvety walls while you moan like a whore– or so Bailey has referred to you. His mouth never stops making out with your cunt until you're gushing around his fingers and against his lips with a squeal. He doesn't waste a drop, lapping it all up and audibly sighing as if it finally quenched his thirst.

Bailey's laughter rings in your ears before he's gripping your face, squishing your cheeks as he forces you to look at Eden. "Look at him– no, no. No looking away. Look at him." He speaks while Eden slowly gets up and towers over, looking pussy-drunk with the way he stares you down. "Thank him."

You gulp, blinking the tears out of your eyes and panting as you gaze up at him, tongue heavy in your mouth as you babble. "Th-thank you.."

Eden leans in and, as if not able to hold himself back any longer, captures your lips with his own. It's sloppy and messy and wet, and you fucking love it, kissing him back as much as your body allows you. There's a shuffle of fabric, and then Bailey's hot cock is grinding against you, slipping against your folds, quiet groans emitting from his throat. He had let go of the back of your knees by now, no need to keep you spread as you're doing it yourself atop his thighs. Large hands stroke your sides until he reaches your breasts, where he immediately starts toying and pinching your nipples.

Eden is quiet, hasn't really spoken except for small words thrown here and there. It's all been Bailey so far, with his condescending and praising words along with instructions directed towards Eden. So it's a surprise when Eden pulls away from your mouth and, with a gruff deep voice, speaks. "Open."

Too dumb to think it over, you comply, parting your lips and letting him spit directly into your mouth. Even Bailey is surprised for a second - you can sense it because he stops moving momentarily before a chuckle rumbles off his chest. "Swallow..." Eden says, and as you obey, he slips his thumb between your lips, and it's like an instinct to start sucking around his finger.

His breathing picks up as he presses his thumb on your tongue, your whines going straight to his twitching cock. "Fuck– you're gorgeous. Open up again."

This time, it's his cock that taps your awaiting tongue, and he shoves it inside your mouth with no heed to your comfort. You choke around it, and he groans, tipping his head back as he slides it out before ramming it back into your throat. You're too focused on admiring how Eden looks as you try your best to open your throat, to notice Bailey sliding his cock past your folds.

You choke again around Eden when Bailey starts feeding girth by girth into your drooling cunt, making you pull your mouth away -with effort- and barely have the time to cry out a "w-wait–" before Eden is roughly gliding his fingers through your locks and jamming his dick into your mouth again. He keeps a firm hold on your head this time, efficiently using your mouth like a fleshlight, hips snapping and balls slapping against your chin.

The motherfucker called Bailey laughs. "Fucktoys don't speak." Quietly groans when he bottoms out, pretty mushroom head kissing your cervix deliciously. You felt as if teetering of the edge of losing your damn sanity– the stretch burning as your walls struggle to expand and hug him. Feeling too full, every part of you stuffed and used to their likings. "Return the favor to Eden while I fuck this pretty pussy, yeah? Be a good girl for us, hm?"

Then he's moving. Bailey's hands return to hold your legs open because you keep squirming and flailing on his cock. You moan, and Eden's jaw falls from the vibrations you send around him, eyes leering back and fluttering close as white-hot pleasure floods his veins.

"Filthy. Fucking. Girl." Bailey punctuates each word with a harsh thrust, the squelching loud and obscene as he fucks himself a little deeper with every snap of his hips. "So fucking wet for us. Taking me so well."

Moans and whimpers muffled by Eden's incredibly large hard-on, body falling soft and putty as they move and maneuver you like their precious little rag doll, only there for their pleasure, and you don't mind. Your eyes roll back when Bailey angles his hips and hits that sweet sweet spot of yours, hot cunt clenching around him impossibly. "Fuck– right there?" He hisses and makes sure to abuse the spot over and over until you're squealing, legs shaking uncontrollably as you cum.

Eden's cock starts twitching as it hits the back of your throat, but he suddenly pulls away when you're expecting him to send ropes of his sweet essence down your throat. You're still convulsing from your orgasm when you look up at him with big bewildered teary eyes, drool running down the sides of your swollen lips, and Eden almost cums right then and there.

Eden groans and then fucking whimpers. "Bailey.." He even sounds as if in tremendous pain as he pumps his glistening cock. Bailey looks up and immediately realizes what that look means.

"Cum on her face or in her mouth. I'm using her pussy."

"Bailey."

"I'm so fucking close don't you fucking dare–"

"Bailey. I'd force you out and fuck her myself."

They're fucking bickering, and they couldn't find a better timing than when you're crying and dripping and squirming with overstimulation.

"No– you know what? Fuck. Get in there."

Your eyes grow impossibly wide when Eden positions himself right where Bailey is still ramming your cunt full. "What– fuck, no no! I can't- wait!" You squirm and push at the man behind you, overusing every 'please' and 'you can't! I can't!' You can think of because, frankly, you really think you might die. It's no surprise when they ignore your cries and protests, both of them shushing you. Bailey slows down and you know what's coming.

"Please– it won't fit it'll never–!"

"Yes, you can. Biiiiig stretch, baby."

Air is knocked out of your chest as Eden forces your cunt to stretch further, opening up to take him in. All of you simultaneously moan, your head falling back down on Bailey's shoulder, fists balling and ever so weakly bumping at Eden's broad chest, cries on your tongue. They rub against each other as Eden sinks further in agonizingly slow until everything comes to a stop, all heavy breaths and pants.

"T-tight." Eden is the first to speak after a moment of silence, then he moves. Rubs the bumpy, scorching hot walls of yours and Bailey's veiny cock. Strong arms settle on either side of you, caging both you and Bailey in. When he slips half the way out, Bailey starts moving.

They take turns, and your cervix doesn't spend a second not getting kissed. Eden pulls a bit out only for Bailey to push in, and vice versa. You're too fucked-out to notice Eden leaning down, them getting closer to each other until you hear soft smacks of lips against lips. You force your eyes to dizzily glance at your side, and involuntarily moan at the sight that greets you.

Bailey's eyes are half-lidded as Eden licks into his mouth, tongues clashing and dancing as they kiss messily and moan into each other's mouth. It's so fucking filthy, all spit and drool and Eden's fucking lips and chin are still glistening with your slick, to which Bailey tastes from his lips, letting out hypnotic out-of-breath groans.

Your tummy bulges with each thrust of theirs, can see the outline of their cocks moving in and out of you through your skin. All your broken mind can think of is how full and stuffed you are, how it's impossible for them to not nudge every perfect spot that makes you scream and see stars. You're almost jealous of the way they still kiss right beside your head, and so you whine for them, needy and desperate for their lips.

Bailey is the one to chuckle breathlessly and pull away. "Greedy girl," he can only whisper before he grabs your hair and turns your head, forcing his lips onto yours. It's humiliating how you can't keep up with him even though you were the one who begged for his hot mouth, your tongue feeling far too heavy to keep up with his. But he doesn't seem to mind; instead, he feels his cock twitch at the dumb, fucked-out expression on your face as you desperately try to kiss him back. Can only think of how breathtaking you look before he bursts, thick ropes of cum painting the inside of your cunt.

His orgasm triggers Eden's who's already so close, both groaning and plunging as deep as possible into you. You hiss, moans falling helplessly from your lips as you feel their warm seed fill your womb to the brim. They keep at it for a while, making sure every surface of your abused pussy is overflowing with semen before they finally pull out.

Their mixed seed follows their softening cocks when they pull out, dripping and flowing from your stretched ruined hole. It's a sight to behold. Your inner thighs are soon drizzled in white, dripping onto Bailey's lap. "We should," Bailey pants, takes a moment to catch a bit of his breath before continuing, "We should do this more often."

When you don't respond, both of them raise their fixed gaze on your pussy and to your face, only to bark out a laugh. You're out cold, limp against Bailey.

Bailey looks away from you and towards Eden, raising a taunting eyebrow as he speaks. "Satisfied?"

"Next time," Eden straightens up, pushing his hair out of his face, "next time, I'm the one fucking her first."

"Whatever you say."

"What did you put in her drink, anyway?"

"That's none of your concern."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

A/N: this is my first time writing a threesome so 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ incredibly fun tho.

[cripplecharacters]

Hey! So one of my characters has fibromyalgia and I have her using crutches for it. My problem is that I was on crutches a while aback and I remember them being like really painful on the hands (grip wise). Is there any way to like make the handles softer to stop the grip from hurting other than buying a custom set of crutches (from what I’ve seen they’re ridiculously expensive). Thanks for answering :p [emoticon of a smiley face sticking its tongue out]

Hello!

If your character is using crutches long-term (Such as for a chronic condition/permanent disability), they would likely be using forearm crutches, which are different from the kind of crutches you use for a temporary injury.

Forearm crutches are much better for longer use because they are more comfortable and can help prevent damage caused by long-term use of regular crutches.

That said, if you're referring to regular crutches, there are several options available to make them more comfortable. Virus mentioned a few products for padding below so I'll just add that there's also DIY ways to improve the comfort when using regular crutches.

One of the main ways that I've seen it done (And I've used myself back in the day) is to take a hand towel and secure it around the top via duct tape. It helped a lot to prevent bruising around my armpits/upper arms when using them.

Virus covered most of what I wanted to go over below so I'll end my part here!

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

Hello lovely asker!

I use regular crutches on and off! 😃 Forearm crutches and canes don't work too well with my body but normal crutches have always been comfortable for me!

They actually make these paddings that go around the part for under the arm and for around the handle part, usually secured with Velcro or a button clasp. Some have like memory foam, some are more of a stuffing texture (sorta fluffy), there's some gel ones, some are more like moleskin where they're not padded but they prevent friction, and sometimes there's a neat little bag that comes with that hangs on the side of them. Of course the hand made option is always very good too, which a lot of people do. Having the crutches decorated/customized is an cool option which I mean a lot of us do with stickers, washi tape, charms, keychains, other things that you can safely decorate mobility aids with.

But Icarus is very right though. I don't use my crutches everyday I use them whenever I injure myself or need support. My body is very loosy goosy for a lack of better words and so I often injure my lower body very frequently, so I often just need the support. But I also lean on everything around my house and use things for support. My old medical pole, I do this with my wheelchair, the counters, the handles on doors and the fridge. Most everything I named comes up to right below my shoulder or higher so I don't have to lean over to lean on anything or in an uncomfortable position.

I think this is an interesting to think of: does this work for your character?

If it's no, maybe not, and you still want to show regular crutches being used, one thing you can do actually is show the character start with underarm crutches and then change to forearm crutches as their long term aid. Or even show that they change in between them; using their forearm crutches for most of their movement/activities while using the underarm ones for something quick or as a quick grab or if their forearm crutches break etc.

But also if you're doing a situation where it's like post-apocalytic setting, poor area/the character grew up poor, or other situations like that, it is very likely for the character to use underarm crutches rather than forearm crutches. Forearm crutches can be about double to triple the price of what normal crutches are so they are a bit more expensive. These are all little factors to consider.

Hope this helps some and happy writing!

~ Mod Virus 🌸

[crownedwille]

So, this gifset by @sobadbad has inspired me to write a little wilmon car blowjob scene, it's just a silly little thing I wrote down quickly but yeah...here you go.

A future fic involving Simon helping Crown Prince Wilhelm release some tension...

Also gonna add that to @youngroyals-events kinktober with the prompts oral sex, semi-public sex and deepthroating!

The royal family must have a car that has one of these partitions you can roll up and down between the back seat and the driver and I'm just imagining them on the drive back to the palace or something coming from a fancy royal event and Wille is wearing a suit and he looks all regal and handsome in all his crown prince glory but Simon can see Wille getting lost in his head again a bit, his anxiety threatening to come to the surface and Simon takes the fingers that Wille has been playing with and stops his tapping by sucking them into his mouth to distract him and have Wille focus on him.

Of course it works and Wille stares at Simon's mouth coating his index and middle finger with spit, licking them up and down and he can feel himself getting hard and he croaks out a "Simon".

Simon responds by taking Wille's fingers out of his mouth with a plop and sinks down on his knees right in front of Wille. It's a spacious car, one of these elite luxury ones so there is enough room for him to sit down without the front seat digging into his spine and Wilhelm looks down at him with dark eyes displaying desire and anticipation but then they blink up towards the driver with hesitation and worry.

They're stuck in traffic with minimal movement and Simon nods at him encouragingly, they have a way of not being seen or heard in the car and Wille tells the driver to roll down the partition in the most steady voice he can muster up and after a moment of silence he gets a perfectly even "yes, your highness" in reply before the dark glass slides all the way down, separating them. The windows are tinted anyway so no one can see what they're up to.

Simon doesn't take off Wille's pants immediately though and mouthes at his erection through his slacks, wetting the material while looking up at him and Wille is groaning and bucking his hips up until Simon finally gets the zipper and pulls his pants and underwear down just enough to take his dick out that is fully hard now and dripping precum already because of course Simon has that effect on him.

And so Simon wraps his lips around the tip, swirling his tongue around and collecting the precum before he goes down further. Wille groans even deeper and puts one hand in Simon's hair, just slightly entangled in his curls but not pushing, just to have something to hold to keep him steady. Simon is still looking up at him with wide bambi eyes and his mouth full of cock and Wille wants to throw his head back and close his eyes but he can't, not when Simon is looking like that and he can't break the eye contact and it feels so intense. So he keeps his one hand in Simon's hair, just slightly petting it and watches as his boyfriend takes him all the way down with only the smallest gagging noise.

He wants to thrust, fuck into that warm, wet heat so bad but he also wants to let Simon decide the pace and do the work without him interfering. So Wille says "so good, Simon, so good to me" and that has Simon whimpering around his cock, which creates a pleasant vibration and him speeding up. While he had been more languidly making his way down Wille's cock before, Simon now feels invigorated and starts bopping up and down with a faster, harsher rhythm.

Slurping and spitting and choking noises are heard and Wille doesn't give a fuck who the driver is on the other side anymore and what they might think they're up to in the back, they're employees of the royal court, they serve him and they're sworn to secrecy and will never be able to breathe a word about this to anyone, so he finally stops holding back and bucks into Simon's mouth, chasing his pleasure.

Simon stops his own movements and doesn't touch his own dick that has started to get hard inside his pants, he keeps his sitting position on the ground with his hands in his lap while he lets Wille use him. This is what he wanted, for Wille to stop worrying and get out of his head, he tends to be like that after public events, strung tight and anxious and all that tension needs to find a way to get out. And Simon knows exactly how to achieve that and is oh so willing to help him with that. It also helps Wille always looks really good in a suit and it makes him want to drop to his knees all the time, worshipping his royal boyfriend.

After a few more thrusts he can feel Wille's hips stuttering more and the rhythm becoming more sloppy and he knows Wille is close and the only warning he gets is another croaky "Simon" and then he's getting filled up with come and Simon dutifully swallows everything he can. Wille slides his cock out of his mouth and pumps it a few times until a few last drops of come land on Simon's face.

He catches his breath and Wille does the same and slumps down in his leather seat. Simon waits for him to open his eyes again to look at him, his face flushed and his pupils wide, probably reflecting his own. Then Simon wipes the come from his face with his finger and sucks it up. Wille huffs and leans forward again, he brings his hand around Simon's cheek, his thumb hovering over his lips to catch a few more drops of come gathered there and Simon slides his tongue out to suck Wille's thumb and gulps it down.

They share a heated look full of desire and worship and love until Wille says "I'm so glad I have you" and Simon smiles, teeth on display - "Always."

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Naegami Fluff and/or Shenanigans 8

Sometimes, the two just have those classic movie nights. Not anything super fancy or romantic. Just the two of them chilling while watching a flick. It started off as Makoto's one-off idea before it blossomed. The two aren't even that big into movies but it's something they do together. However, one day, after finding a shit movie neither of them have heard of, the movie night spiraled into something bigger. Basically, the gist of their new and improved movie nights is:

This definitely became something the two never would have guessed to become so chaotic. Cus, every few moments in movies, Byakuya just HAS to pause it and go on a rant on everything wrong with the scene or dialogue while Makoto desperately tries not to laugh too hard. He fails though. Every. Single. Time. I mean, how can he NOT laugh when his boyfriend is absolutely ROASTING and MURDERING the poor movie with expert precision! Like, Byakuya's just stabbing the ever loving shit outta every plot hole imaginable and there is nothing that Makoto can do about it. Not that he'd WANT to... Makoto genuinely loves hearing his boyfriend rant about stuff in general, so this is no exception. Hell. The fact that Byakuya isn't even that big of a movie fan makes it better. Also, the ways that Byakuya explains the movie plots to him also doesn't help due to Byakuya's general sass the whole time. Gets Makoto every damn time.

The initially just watched bad live-action movies like The Room, Sharknado, all Neil Breen movies like Fateful Findings and Twisted Pair. However, after digging around for more bad shit for them to find, they decided to bite the bad and strange animated movies which Byakuya has his own new type of rants for. AKA "Stupid Children's Movie Humor that Moronic American Executives Force to Add into the Movies is Dumb and Stupid" rant. Also, there's also the obvious rant about the animation or animation errors. And that is where they made their best/worst decision ever. Yeah. Makoto nearly died when they watched The Bee Movie because of the unhinged rants Byakuya went on. Tldr; Byakuya absolutely DESPISES Jerry Seinfeld and made that VERY clear. Meanwhile, Makoto barely knows who the fuck Seinfeld is, though that doesn't matter because the boy is literally curled up on his side, on the couch, clutching it for dear life while freaking snort-laughing to death as Byakuya just won't let up. Makoto also leans on Byakuya a bit for SOME semblance of support but it barely helps and the heir's movements just make him laugh and giggle even harder. The whole time, Byakuya's just smirking at him while being amused at Makoto's response. And, gosh. The day after was almost as bad when Byakuya pulled at the cork board to explain even MORE about his hatred of Seinfeld. Makoto shed many tears those days from how hard he was just dying from the whole thing. Also didn't help when Makoto tried to engage himself with the discourse by asking questions. The key word is TRIED. He could only get a few legible words out at that point which Byakuya absolutely teased him for. Like: "Ah, Makoto. This is no laughing matter! I am talking about the heinous deeds of an unfunny comedian! This man is DESPICABLE!" he says, also struggling a bit not to laugh himself. Cus, Makoto has the gift of having a bit of a contagious laugh. Specifically in the sense that hearing it is cute and, if one ever laughed along with him, zero shits would be given about one sounded cus they're too busy trying and failing to keep it together. Also, it's just easy to kinda have fun laughing with the little guy like that. 'Tis hard attempting to not be charmed by he eggy ways though some are obviously immune. Byakuya is not. AHEM

Yeah. Byakuya was SOOO having a fucking blast tearing apart both the movie and Seinfeld both cus he likes ranting but also because, at this point, he knows he just genuinely likes seeing Makoto happy. Makoto's the same way which is why, even during the times he was absolutely crying at that point from how hard he was laughing his ass off, he only sometimes told Byakuya to quit it, which was mostly in a playful and kinda whinny way cus Makoto was still losing it BAAAAD. That is not an understatement. Can also see Byakuya being a bit of a dick here by ruffling Makoto's hair or something which just makes the guy both flustered and even more giggly than before. Having said all of this though, I have a feeling Makoto finds a way the break the bastard back though. I mean, Makoto's been doing a lot of laughing! Might as well get some payback! Also payback for Byakuya freaking poking him, rubbing it in that Makoto sounds like a total loser. Nothing too lethal though. Not that Makoto could BE lethal. Just the boy trying and failing to maybe crack a joke or something but he's bad at it, regardless if he's laughing hysterically or not. The attempt is short lived though as Makoto kinda just tries to get everything back on track regarding the actual PLOT of The Bee Movie. Cus, Byakuya's actual a bit out of breath from all that Seinfeld ranting. It backfires though. They both end up in a weird conversation on how the fuck Vanessa is plowing that bee. AKA, the strangest talk they've had about anything ever up until this point... Like, it starts off as a genuine question before it just devolves into Makoto trying to end it all while covering his face, laughing hysterically while Byakuya's no better. He just keeps trying and failing to actually psycho-analyze the logistics here. Meanwhile, Makoto is lowkey squealing for him to finally quit the bit while Byakuya just keeps going. He may be out of breath from the Seinfeld rant but he is just on a roll today and nothing is stopping him. And, when everything FINALLY starts to calm down a bit, the two reflect a bit on what the fuck just happened. Oddly enough though, they're content about it. Like, the two had fun. Makoto nearly died. All is good in the world. And maybe they just cuddle after. Idk! T-T

[ideas-4-stories]

I dunno if you like age regression topics (the coping mechanism, not the magical fictional one but either work for this concept)

But like. Buggy regressing in some way, shape or form. It's set during Cross Guild, on Karai Bari, and his closest friends know vaguely of it, maybe, or they know Something happens every once in a while where Buggy will put them in charge with strict orders to not bother him.

Crocodile and Mihawk are not beholden to those orders.

So it happens while they're there, and they decide to go look into it and find Buggy, little and small and curled up tightly with his fingers dug so tightly into his hair that it's a wonder how he hasn't yanked full handfuls out yet ((He has, his Devil Fruit just reconnects them)). Crocodile is taken aback by the Off Vibes. Mihawk is staring, head tilted slightly because the clown's energy is locked down even tighter than usual but it's juvenile, it feels like a child, a little child absolutely choked with terror.

That is what settles the matter for him, and so he sets aside Yoru, walks over and kneels on the floor before Buggy, voice soft as he tries to get the other's attention. He asks before touching, his hands are gentle when he gets consent to reach out, he is clear and broadcasting all of his movements as he goes.

Buggy is still shaking, but the mumbling has slowed. His breathing is still uneven, but it has eased up slightly.

Crocodile doesn't quite know what to do and so goes to get a cup of water. He adds a straw on a whim.

Mihawk holds the cup steady as they gently get buggy to drink, his hands still shaking, tears still flowing.

This is the first time they see Buggy small and vulnerable. This is thus the first time they ask him to come to one of them when it happens. Neither will admit to being a bit soft on the clown, let alone being soft in general, but no child should have to be scared and alone.

Buggy then breaks their hearts when he shakes his head, rubs his eyes, and says "but 'm always 'lone when 'm sad...?"

Mihawk breathes in slowly, fighting a grimace. "You shouldn't need to be, Buggy. It's okay to ask for help when you... feel like this."

"But unc'a Rayray said 's bad."

"It isn't," Crocodile says simply. "You can ask for help. Hell, come to one of us when you feel all... off, like this or otherwise. We're here, yeah? Might as well be here for this too. No big deal."

Buggy sniffles a little, then he just hums. He lets Mihawk finger brush his hair, rocking slightly in place. Crocodile makes a big show of complaining and groaning as he sits down on the floor, earning a wane smile and a teary giggle. He smirks at the success.

They sit with Buggy until he eventually does off, and then Crocodile picks him up and Mihawk helps tuck him into the bed.

They decide to keep a closer eye on the other moving forward.

The beginning of it all is rocky at best. Buggy has had decades of time to internalize that his shifts are BAD and thus not okay or acceptable. He's also surprisingly stubborn when push comes to shove, so reworking a new routine is like pulling teeth from a bear.

They make it work though.

Buggy's regression isn't all sunshine and daisies, but it's also not always stressful and tearful. Mihawk never took himself for a man who was good with children, but he secretly dubs Buggy an exception. Buggy is usually ALL of his exceptions.

Crocodile meanwhile is very much sold on Not Liking Kids. They deserve to be cared for and protected, yeah, but prolonged contact with one is exhausting. He just isn't built for that. He doesn't like kids. He will tolerate Buggy, big or little, because of his own agenda, not because he likes the brat. No, really, stop smirking Mihawk, he is SERIOUS-

Buggy is just bamboozled by it all.

I’ve heard about Age Regression a few times as in the coping mechanism, I didn’t know there was a fantasy or magical fictionalized version of age regression… is it the thing of characters turning into kids? That’s all I can think is the things it could be, I don’t know how Buggy will regress. That’s up to the writer if anyone wants to write it.

I would think Cabaji knows a lot about it, because I headcanon that he knows Buggy the longest. Mohji, Richie, and most of the original crew would know about it. I don’t know about Alvida and Galdino; they might vaguely know about it, or they do know about it.

Of course, Crocodile and Mihawk are going to ignore what Buggy asked, so they go to find him. Only to find Buggy freaking out alone. Love that Mihawk feels Buggy’s energy like a child. That’s interesting while Crocodile just feels Off-Vibes. Crocodile and Mihawk go and help the clown during this, so he can calm down and talk to them about what’s happening.

Love that both, Mihawk and Crocodile tells Buggy to come to one of them when this happens again. I wonder if someone had to tell them what was happening or do they know about this condition.

Not Rayleigh telling Buggy that it’s bad to do, I wonder the reason behind that. From what I know about the coping mechanism, it’s not really something people can control. Wondering if it’s because the crew didn’t know what to do, so Rayleigh made sure to tell Buggy to stay away from people when in this state. It's set to keep him safe from people that might exploit Buggy in this state. I don’t know, love that Crocodile tells Buggy that it’s okay to come and ask for help.

It’s cute that Crocodile made a big show of complaining while Mihawk just brushes Buggy’s hair with his fingers. Mihawk and Crocodile agreeing to keep closer eye on Buggy, I like to think they just made eye-contact and nodded with each other, without saying anything.

Of course, it isn’t all sunshine and daisies, that’s not how kids are and reworking a new routine for Buggy is hard. The clown is very stubborn, I’m glad they made it work.

[jean-dieu]

OC Mannerism! Feat. Raphaël, Ziel and Lazare

Inspired by @the-raging-tempest, @dujour13 and others!

Raphaël:

He looks taller than he really is. Sure, the horns add quite a few centimeters, but he always stands very straight, tall and proud, almost imposing.

He has a perpetual frown on his face. He doesn't even notice it most of the time, it's just his resting face. When he's angry or nervous, he tends to tap his hoof nervously on the ground.

He tugs on his shirt a lot to straighten it often.

Tends to run a hand through his hair, especially when his shaggy bangs are getting a bit too long. He has been thinking about changing his haircut for years now but he never does it.

He likes tapping his claws on his desk when filling reports.

Bites his lower lips when lost in thoughts.

Usually good at controlling his tail except when he's really excited or happy. That's a better giveway on his current mood than his facial expression.

When he's angry, he can snarl and growl.

Likes cracking his neck and fingers.

Smiling is very unusual for him. Really. At best, he stops frowning. No frown + restless tail = a very happy Raphaël.

Tends to wrap his tail around Sosiel's legs or waist when they're together.

His voice is naturally low and deep, and he always sounds like he's scolding you.

Absolutely loves when someone run a hand through his fur but will never admit it. Sighs softly when Sosiel does so.

Sleeps on his back, all straight, staring at the ceiling.

When he's alone and a bit overwhelmed, closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep sigh.

When he gets angry he can hit things around him just to pass his nerves on something. He tries to control it though.

Ziel:

Scratches his scales on his arms very often, or picks them.

Bites his claws, and they're quite jagged.

As a kid, he used to bite his tail while teething.

His ears are very expressive, and can lower even more when he's sad or perks up when he's surprised or excited.

Forces himself to smile more normally to not flash his sharp, crooked teeth and snake-like mouth. So he's usually just smirking.

Twists his tongue in his mouth a lot.

Is very fidgety in general. Struggles to sit down. Always moving his legs, bending on his chair, doing something with his tail or fingers.

Slouches quite a lot. Very bendy.

Sits weirdly in general.

Tiptoes a lot.

Makes jokes at the worst moment to make up for his nervousness.

Makes self-depreciating jokes all the time to avoid hearing them from others.

Enjoys making a burrito of himself in his cloak.

Likes heights a lot. Loves spending time on Absalom's roofs on his own.

Likes to bury his face in his dog's fur.

He's an edgy, sarcastic teenage boy EXCEPT with his dog who he showers with love and cares and caresses and everything.

Forged himself a mischievous laugh as a young teen. He can't stop doing it now.

His way of talking is a bit peculiar. A bit of a posh accent from the Absalom bouregeoisie yet knows his way with street slangs.

His voice is coarse and raspy, as if he's always a bit sick.

Likes to pull up the middle finger at any little inconvenience.

Wears many layers to hide how scrawny he really is.

Lazare:

Can't stop trying to fit his tongue through his front tooth gap.

Shakes his head a lot to not have curls in front of his eyes. Also likes to do this to make his earrings move.

Likes to make sounds while walking in heels.

Likes to twist and turn his rings. Likes to play with his numerous pieces of jewlery.

When he's talking, he uses his hands a lot. He likes to make grand gestures and theatrical movements. He tells any little anecdotes like if it was a tragedy.

Likes to lay down or sits on the ground.

Likes to twirl curls around his fingers.

Has an incredible voice range and is good at voice acting. Can speak and sing in a very, very low and deep voice or very high pitched.

His natural voice is quite high pitched though.

Speaks incredibely fast, with a strong accent. Can be hard to follow through whatever he's saying, especially since he's terrible at focusing on something and he can ramble for hours.

Can fall asleep in any circumstances. Two chairs in a middle of a party is a decent bed enough.

Winks a lot.

Tail has a mind on its own.

Has the bad habit of interrupting people when they talk, but often stops right after doing it, apologizing.

Has always a bit of candies or biscuits on him. He is the snacks provider.

Pockets are full of random trinkets. An earring, two funny rocks, a coin from another country, a half eaten gummy, crumbs of biscuits and a button or two.

Doesn't care about being naked or not in front of others.

Is in general kind of childish. With his youthful appearance, he's often seen as younger than he really is.

[legacyshenanigans]

Guess who's here again B!!....At this point I should rename myself to #1 Rominis fan, I swear the amount of times I've asked you about them feels criminal.... I'm so sorry if y'all are done with my simping for these two you especially B, plese tell me straight away if you ever get tired of me asking for them 😖😖😖

Now If you're still not tired of me here's what I've got for you today:

Does Rowan ever get nightmares about the night he lost his parents and his entire community? I feel like this could also make a really sweet Rominis interaction, Rowan having a pretty nasty nightmare and Omi comforting him....🥺🐺🐍❤️

Today I've only got this one because like I wrote in the beginning I'm really starting to feel bad for constantly asking about them.

If you still don't mind my asks I love you guys and you B especially thank you so much for constantly making my days better with each post you make (even the traumatising ones🤣❤️) your an absolute tresure of the HL community and I'm so glad I found you ❤️❤️✨✨

Have a pleasant evening and hopefully some normal sleep, as always your little Dragon friend 🐲🏔️💚

Lil Dragon! Stop it! I dont mind your asks you can always send them in, I do the asks I wanna do, I thus far, I really enjoy the things you send my way! Even if they're always Rominis, which I dont mind! 💚 this is also the perfect ask for me to possibly add on to the other ask you sent me which I did before, "has Rowan ever lost control" I could blend that into this one in a way :)

And thank you so so much for saying that 💜 makes it all worth it to know my stuff is enjoyed, and it makes me REALLY happy to hear that stuff, can't lie, 🥹

Big love to you 😘💜

Nightmares 🐺

Ominis stirred and turned in his bed one evening, feeling movement and noise from Rowan, he had a look of slight confusion on his face, hearing Rowan aggressively growling and snarling as he began to thrash on the sheets, Ominis reached over touching him, though he was a little frightened.

Ominis: Rowan?!

Rowan suddenly burst into his werewolf form, not knowing for a moment where he was, his mind clouded by his night terror, he reached out and gripped Ominis's throat, letting out an aggressive deep growl, his fangs inches away from Ominis's face. He was suddenly brought back to consciousness, seeing what he was doing, and Ominis looking terrified.

Ominis: R-Rowan?...

Rowan: *turns back into his human form, looking horrified himself for a moment* Ominis..Oh god *let's go of his throat* I..Shit..I'm so sorry *sits up properly on the bed, looking at Ominis and strokes his hair*

Ominis touched his own neck, feeling the deep imprint of Rowans claws at the side.

Rowan: I'm so so sorry..I..Urgh!

Ominis: Shh shh shh, its OK.. Its not your fault..Did you have a nightmare or something?

Rowan: ....Yeah..Been a while...It was..My family.. my community.. The night they all died, it was like I was there again.. Reliving it...I'm sorry..

Ominis: Stop apologising..Come here *holds open his arms*

Rowan: *deep sigh as he leans into Ominis*

Ominis: *stroking Rowans head gently*

Rowan: *feels Ominis's neck softly* I'm sor-

Ominis: Shhhhhhh. *continues to comfort Rowan*

~

[romanestuffsposts]

Hey girly! How was the shows?

I was thinking about what a normal day would look like or night or weekend. Whatever you think would be best ❤️ I haven’t had a lot of structure lately do to a hectic schedule. I really need some papa and daddy routine to help 🥺🥺💕💕💕

Hi there love!

My shows were really perfect! I’m already so excited for the ones next year!! Thank you so much for asking sweets ❤️

Of course I’ll help you, honey! I’m so glad I’m able to do it!

I Hope it gets better now, I’m sorry you had to wait this long for seeing your request written. I hope you understand <3

Enjoy <33

****

Your Daddies always come waking you up together. If they're both home, they go upstairs to your bedroom to gently waking you with gentle movement and sweet words. They found it important to be both there when you open your beautiful eyes

then it's breakfast time. Your Papa either is the only one to cook while your Daddy changes when it's needed or you help him. They usually cook what you asked for breakfast but sometimes they cook when they want to eat.

After that, your Papa goes with you upstairs to change you into your clothes instead of your pyjama, even if your pyjama is the comfier in the whole world. During that time, your Daddy cleans the dishes and the table where you had breakfast.

During the morning, you usually play in your playroom, you draw for your Daddies, you play with your dolls and you create a whole universe in your mind that you love so much. It's a perfect way to start a day.

Your Daddies come to get you when lunch is ready and if the sun is showing and it's not too cold outside, you eat your lunch in the garden, under the warm sun and the beautiful trees leaf. You always help them cleaning afterward.

For the afternoon, sometimes you go in the store to run errands with your Daddies when it's needed or you spend the afternoon on their laps while they work in the office or you went back to playing. Every afternoon is different but you love every each of them.

In the late afternoon, it's your nap time so your Daddies went to you when you weren't with them and you follow them aound the house until you're in the bed. They read you stories and caress your skin to make you feel sleepy. They always stay with when it's nap time so it helps you staying in bed. In hours like that, you want to be close to them because tiredness is making its way to you and you want to be in their arms so if they're not there at nap time, you get up and search for them.

After an hour or so of napping, your Daddies wake you up in the sweetest way which is also your favorite way to woken up. You all go downstairs and while you take your time to wake up with your Daddy on the couch, your Papa is making dinner. They hate when you eat too lately because after your tummy hurts or you digest less well. Your Daddy runs his hands around your body to make you feel safe.

After dinner time, it's your Papa who cleans the table and the dishes while your Daddy tucks you upstairs for a good bath. He helps you undressing and always make sure to add the soaps you want in the water. He massages each muscles and each skin of your body while all you do it laying in the bathtub and enjoying. He can be really playful at some times, for example, while he's wahsing your belly, he would innocently and by mistake slide his finger in your belly button to wash it or he would purposely runs his fingers not so hard on your soles to tickle you or taking his sweet time washing each one of your toes.

Before putting you in your pyjama, he would lie you in the bed and putting your cream on your body which help you relaxing even more under his hands. He then helps you getting dress and carries you down the stairs. It be such a shame to dirty those little feet now that they're clean.

For the evening, it's always cuddle time. Your Papa is already on the couch when you come downstairs and is already searching for something to watch, something you like to watch of course. Your Daddy would sit beside your Papa on the couch and laying you across their legs. Sometimes your feet are on your Papa's laps and other time it's on your Daddy's. But in all cases, your feet, legs, arms, belly and hair are caressed sweetly by their big hands.

If you didn't fell asleep on their laps during the evening, they would ask you where you want to sleep, in your bed or in theirs. They would carry you to the bed you chose and pick up a story you love. They tuck you in bed, give you your paci and a bottle if you asked for one and of course they give your Bucksie. While your Papa is focusing on the words he read, your Daddy strokes your belly or hair to make you more sleepy. They keep doing that until you fall asleep and then get ready to fall asleep with you

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: A couple that gets angry together stays together angrily or something like that -Danny Words: 3,101 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'A Million Pretty Pieces' -by Fleurie & Nightly

XXVIII: I'm Mere Seconds Away From Violence

"Check it out," Jason points at a bronze statue of Neptune.

"He's naked," Ara makes a face. "Why?"

"Ah, jeez." Leo groans quietly, but his eyes scan the statue anyway, as they do with everything. "Some kind of clue?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Jason replies. "There are statues of the gods all over the place in Italy. I'd just feel better if we ran across Jupiter. Or Minerva. Anybody but Neptune, really."

"I feel like he's judging me—hey, you little runt, you threw my son to hell!" Ara tries to imitate the god. "New York is packed with statues, and they were all there for a reason. This can't be just for show."

Leo approaches the pedestal where Neptune is. "They were automatons, right? The ones back in New York? Perhaps this dude can give us a hand..."

Leo enters the dry fountain, his eyes moving around like he can read an invisible text over it. She loves it when he does that, it feels like he can do anything and it gives her a sense of safety. As long as she's with Leo, there is no problem they can't solve.

"It's mechanical," he announces. "Maybe a doorway to the dwarfs' secret lair?" 

"Ooooo!" Exclaims a voice behind them. "Secret lair?"

"I want a secret lair!" Whines a second one.

"Oh, you can talk!" Ara follows the voices and finds one dwarf sitting at a café table. "Good! That means you'll understand the curses I'll put on you when I send you back to Tartarus!"

"If we had a secret lair," continues the dwarf ignoring her, "I would want a firehouse pole."

"And a waterslide!" adds the other, seated on the statue. He's the one in possession of Leo's belt.

"Stop that!" Leo tries to seize the creature by the foot, but he can't reach him.

"Too short?" The dwarf cackles from above his head.

"You're calling me short?" Leo looks around in anger, then turns to glare at the little guy. "Give me my belt, you stupid—"

"Now, now! We haven't even introduced ourselves. I'm Akmon. And my brother over there—"

"—is the handsome one! Passalos! Singer of songs! Drinker of coffee! Stealer of shiny stuff!"

"Stinky, annoying, and about to die," Ara lists, drawing out Almighty. Passalos runs away at an impressive speed, and she crashes onto the table before she can catch him.

"Hey!" Akmon frowns as he spots her sword. "I stole that! How did you take it back?" 

Passalos snorts. "Because you're lousy!" He pulls out Katroptis and starts cleaning his teeth with it. "I'm better at stealing than you."

"Hey!" Jason points at him with a scowl. "That's my girlfriend's knife!"

He tries to catch him, but once again the dwarf jumps and holds onto Leo's waist. "Save me?"

"Get off!" Leo tries to beat him away, but Passalos moves before he can even touch him, and the moment he's out of reach, Leo's pants fall around his knees.

Passalos shows them Leo's zipper with a pleased grin, holding it above his head to taunt Leo. Ara blushes, if they continue like this they're going to steal everything from them.

"Give—stupid—zipper!" Leo struggles to keep himself covered while trying to seize the creature.

"Eh, not shiny enough," Passalos tosses the zipper away.

Ara's mind is trying to do something with the information she's gathered, but without her Octopi, she doesn't have the tools to make anything, and she can't go back to the ship and risk losing track of Passalos and Akmon. Only Leo has the skill to make something out of nothing.

While the boys argue with the dwarfs, she turns Almighty back into a compass and stares at it. "C'mon..." The needle makes an abrupt movement and points to the statue.

"Who are you two, anyway?" Jason demands.

"The Kerkopes! I bet you're a son of Jupiter, eh? I can always tell."

"Just like Black Bottom," Passalos adds.

"Black Bottom?" Leo raises a brow.

"Yes, you know—Hercules. We called him Black Bottom because he used to go around without clothes. He got so tan that his backside, well—"

Ara's blood boils at the teasing, she doesn't allow any kind of jokes concerning the children of Olympus, it has become a touchy subject for her. "Give us our stuff back, or I'll give you both black bottoms."

The Kerkopes look at her with amusement. "You're the new daughter of Olympus, aren't you? That bag of yours had this," Akmon pulls out her laurel wreath and places it on top of his ugly hat. "We hadn't seen one in centuries!"

"Don't touch that!" She fumes.

"At least Hercules had a sense of humor!" Passalos makes a face. "He was going to kill us when we stole from him, but he let us go because he liked our jokes. Not like you. Grumpy, grumpy!"

"Hey, I've got a sense of humor," Leo says through gritted teeth. "Give me back our stuff, and I'll tell you a joke with a good punch line."

"Nice try!" Akmon pulls more stuff out of Leo's belt and beams. "Oh, very nice! I'm definitely keeping this! Thanks, Blue Bottom!"

Ara tries hard not to get distracted by Leo's underwear. These creatures have embarrassed and mocked them, and they're toying with them like... The Kerkopes have lured them to the statue, holding their stuff just out of reach so they are tempted enough to follow them closer. Her trickster senses tingle.

"That's it!" Leo's palms burst into flames. "My stuff. Now. Or I'll show you how funny a flaming dwarf is."

"Now we're talking," Jason summons a storm above the fountain.

"Step back!" She demands urgently.

"In a moment," Leo says without looking. "I'm cooking dinner first."

Ara glows teal, she pulls dirty-looking water from the rusty pipes and sweeps it under Leo and Jason's feet. Since Leo is closer to the water and his pants are around his ankles, he gets dragged out easily. Jason, however, is standing firmly in place and barely moves when the water hits him. 

Thin wires shoot down and trap him, lifting the boy upside down. Ara swears in ancient Greek, Percy would've summoned a larger amount of water in her place, but her blessing isn't strong enough for that.

"Bravo!" Akmon chortles from the café table. "You make a wonderful piñata, son of Jupiter!"

"Yes! Hercules hung us upside down once, you know. Oh, revenge is sweet!"

Leo gets up from the puddle of water and summons a new ball of fire in his palm, then throws it at the dwarves without warning. Passalos and Akmon yelp and narrowly avoid being toasted. The Archimedes sphere slips out of their grip and lands near Leo.

"Time to leave!" Akmon exclaims.

Passalos ponders whether to try and get the sphere but Leo ignites his palm again, glaring at the little guy with an enraged gaze Ara has never seen before. "Try me."

"Bye!" Passalos rushes out of sight.

Ara approaches Jason while Leo picks up the sphere and inspects it. The girl scans the wrappings tightly bounding Jason to place except for his right arm, still out and holding his sword.

"I'm sorry, I should've realized they were reeling us in—It's what Lily, Mike, and I used to do during Capture the Flag..."

"You saved me," Leo inches closer to the pedestal. "I sensed the trap too late. Hold on, Jason, if I can find a release switch—"

"Just go!" Jason urges them. "I'll follow you when I get out of this." 

"But—"

"Don't lose them!"

Ara looks at her compass, the needle pointing ahead to the path the Kerkopes followed. "Okay, let's get our stuff back..." Ara glances down at Leo's pants and her cheeks flush. "And a belt."

Ara and Leo aren't talking much, and their annoyance is palpable and uncomfortable. Usually, when one of them is upset, the other is ready to lighten up the mood, but the two of them angry means they're going to pull one another deeper into the pit until they fix what's bothering them.

"They're baiting us," Ara watches the dwarves climb a high tower. "Guiding us to a secluded area they most likely control. We need a plan or a way to catch them before they catch us."

Leo glares at the tower while holding the Archimedes sphere with one hand and his pants with the other. "Well, they have your plushie. And Piper's dagger. And my tool belt."

Ara makes a face. "They remind me of my kid self—Petty little criminals. We'll spur them on if they see us angry. We must trick them by doing the same thing they're doing to us—wiggle over their heads a shiny prize they can't ignore."

Leo looks over at a grocery store, his skin glows golden as he walks over to it. "I can work with that."

"What are we doing?" Ara follows him.

"We're making something shiny."

When they enter, Ara spots a flashy tourist struggling to read labels and she tilts her head towards Leo. "Be right back."

She approaches the man and snaps her fingers in front of him, talking in Italian. Ara messes with the mist and the guy starts talking in English and while he explains that he doesn't understand whether the contents of a can are carrots or mashed pumpkin, Ara leans closer and steals his stuff.

The girl solves his doubt and goes to find Leo with his arms already full of stuff. "Here," she takes the products and hands him a belt. "Pull up your pants, you're distracting me."

"Where did you get this?" Leo raises a brow.

"A guy," Ara replies vaguely. "He won't miss it."

"You stole it?" He asks in shock.

"I got his wallet and his watch too just in case."

"Ara!"

"He won't miss it!" She repeats. "Guy was wearing a Rolex, he can get over a stolen wallet! We need the dough—"

"I have money!"

"Oh." Ara pulls out the wallet from her pocket. "Okay, I'll hand this to the cashier, then. I'm keeping the Rolex, though."

"Thank the gods you know Italian," Leo says as they walk out. "What was she saying anyway?"

"She was asking what two kids like us were doing with all that—I told her it was a science project."

"And when you gave her the wallet?"

"She called me a nice girl and blessed me," Ara snorts. "I hope that doesn't count—"

Leo stops her before they can be visible from the tower. "You have enough blessings as it is, yeah, but saved my ass from getting locked in with Jason with one of them, so I don't mind it if you get more of those."

"My blessings aren't that strong, if I'm not fast bad things end up happening," she eyes him as he quickly gets to work. "I need to be better."

"Finding 300 euros in a guy's wallet can't be considered bad luck," he teases her.

"Shut up," she keeps an eye on the tower. "Build your toys, Valdez." 

Leo replies without looking up. "Fine. Just give me five minutes."

He finishes in exactly five minutes, and Ara runs out holding a couple of his creations. A brief examination helps her understand what he's made, and once again she's torn between awe and jealousy. It's hard to ignore her shortcomings in emergencies like this one.

As they reach the tower they realize it's not lax in security, there's a guy inside what appears to be a ticket booth yelling at them to stop and pay for entrance. Ara opens her mouth to reply but Leo finally loses his patience. 

"Seriously? Look, man, you've got dwarfs in your belfry. I'm the exterminator." He lifts his can of bug spray. "See? Exterminator Molto Buono. Squirt, squirt. Ahhh!" 

Ara watches him perform with a pained expression, then pulls out the 300 euros and slides them across the booth's desk. "Non ci hai visto."

The guy stares at the money in shock, takes it, and ushers them forward. "Avanti!"

"Grazie!" Ara pulls Leo along.

"See? Everything always works out in your favor," he smirks.

Ara looks up at the long flights of stairs and frowns. "You had to talk..."

"I thought you loved climbing?"

"Rocks, not stairs!" She pulls out Almighty and turns it into a grappling hook. "Hold onto me."

Leo balances his creations in one arm and holds her by the waist with the other. Ara shoots and the hook gets stuck somewhere at the top, then they're pulled upwards speedily. Both teens get to the top and Ara helps Leo climb the railing.

The Kerkopes toss the cards they were using to play and blow loud raspberries at her. "That's cheating!"

"I'm about to impale you with my sword, and that's your concern?" Ara scowls.

"You know what, doll? Let's just go," Leo glances at the Kerkopes. "And just so you know, you losers forgot something shiny."

"Impossible!" Akmon exclaims. "We were very thorough." 

"You sure?" Leo shows them the grocery bag. "Look."

Ara closes her eyes and even then she sees a bit of the blinding flashing through. The dwarves shriek and cover their faces, trying to find the exit, but Leo throws small firecrackers at their feet scaring them away from the windows.

The girl walks in while Leo tinkers with the Archimedes sphere and releases a thick fog, which she endures by tearing half the bottom of her shirt and using the fabric to cover her nose. Ara's skilled hands take the belt from Akmon's waist and toss it to Leo, then he tosses back bungee cords and she ties up the Kerkopes.

Ara stands up and crosses her arms. "Where is my Octopi?"

Leo drags the little guys to a corner and points near a window. "There!"

She searches through it anxiously and finds all her belongings there, except her gold wreath, that is on top of Katroptis. Leo helps her retrieve the rest of their stuff while the Kerkopes cry behind them.

"Please! Don't take our shinies!"

"We'll make you a deal! We'll cut you in for ten percent if you let us go!"

"Afraid not," Leo replies without turning. "It's all ours now."

Ara examines the treasure surrounding them, and her hands itch with interest. Lighting hits one of the windows and she jumps away cursing out loud. Jason enters right after. 

"Hey! A warning would be nice!" She scolds him.

"Man, you just wasted an awesome entrance," Leo whistles appreciatively.

 Jason frowns. "What the—"

"Mr Firecracker did that," Ara turns back to her search, picking up random stuff and tossing them over her shoulder right after.

"All by myself," Leo nods and winks at the blond boy. "I'm special that way. How did you find us?"

"Uh, the smoke," Jason points over his shoulder. "And I heard popping noises. Were you having a gunfight in here?"

"Something like that." Leo tosses Piper's dagger at him and continues to search.

Ara picks up an astrolabe and walks over to Leo to show it. "This looks interesting..."

"Take it!" Passalos exclaims. "Odysseus made it, you know! Take it and let us go."

"Odysseus?" Jason asks. "Like, the Odysseus?"

"Yes! Made it when he was an old man in Ithaca. One of his last inventions, and we stole it!"

"How does it work?" Leo questions.

"Oh, it doesn't," Akmon replies. "Something about a missing crystal?"

"'My biggest what-if,'" Passalos nods. "'Should've taken a crystal.' That's what he kept muttering in his sleep, the night we stole it. No idea what he meant. But the shiny is yours! Can we go now?"

She knows Oddysseus's story front to back, Lily and Mike used it to motivate her to get better, she knows what this astrolabe was most likely created for... and Leo is eyeing it with lots of interest. Ara thinks of Percy, staring longingly at a bright moonlace outside their bedroom window.

"Should we take it?" She asks hesitantly. "The Kerkopes would leave it to rust, but..."

Leo looks up waiting to hear the rest. "But?"

She stares at it scowling. "I don't know."

Shrugging, Leo puts it in the pocket of his tool belt. "But that can't be what Hecate wanted us to get from here, right?"

"That thing is not shiny," Ara points to a book next to Leo. "What's it doing here?" 

Leo lifts it and shows it to the Kerkopes. "Nothing!" Akmon squeaks. "Just a book. It had a pretty gold cover, so we took it from him."

"Him?" Leo raises a brow.

"Minor god," Passalos says vaguely. "In Venice. Really, it's nothing." 

"Sounds like something," Ara turns to the boys. "I think we should take it."

"Venice." Jason says. "Isn't that where we're supposed to go next?"

"Yeah." Leo examines the cover. "Good job, doll! Guess this is it... Where exactly can we find this minor god?"

"No! You can't take it back to him! If he finds out we stole it—"

"He'll destroy you," Jason shrugs. "Which is what we'll do if you don't tell us, and we're a lot closer."

"Okay, okay!" the dwarf squeals when Jason threatens him with his sword. "La Casa Nera! Calle Frezzeria!"

"Is that an address?" Leo asks her.

Ara nods. "Black House. Frezzeria street."

"Please don't tell him we stole it," Passalos pleads. "He isn't nice at all!"

"Who is he? What god?" Jason inquires.

"We can figure that out later," Ara picks up her stuff. "Time to go."

"What do we do with them?" Jason asks her. "Send them to Tartarus?"

"Please, no!" Akmon begs. "It might take us weeks to come back."

"Assuming Gaea even lets us! She controls the Doors of Death now. She'll be very cross with us."

Ara would like to send them away, but they'd be back fast and angrier, and if Gaea finds out what they did to the Argo II, she'll send them back with a crueler plan.

"We can't do that," she sighs. "It's not a good idea."

She wonders if this is her or Athena's blessing talking, either way, she knows she's right.

"Okay... so we let them here?"

"Nothing can slow them down," Leo muses deep in thought. "I wonder..." 

Ara and Jason turn to him and ask at the same time. "What?"

"I'll make you a deal." Leo approaches the Kerkopes.

"Thirty percent?"

"We'll leave you all your treasure," Leo points over his shoulder, "except the stuff that belongs to us, and the astrolabe, and this book, which we'll take back to the dude in Venice."

"But he'll destroy us!"

"We won't say where we got it," Leo assures them. "And we won't kill you. We'll let you go free."

"Uh, Leo...?" Jason starts, but Ara raises a hand to stop him.

"I knew you were as smart as Hercules!" Akmon says happily. "I will call you Black Bottom, the Sequel!"

"Yeah, no thanks," Leo brushes it aside. "But in return for us sparing your lives, you have to do something for us. I'm going to send you somewhere to steal from some people, harass them, make life hard for them any way you can. You have to follow my directions exactly. You have to swear on the River Styx."

"We swear! Stealing from people is our specialty!" 

"I love harassment! Where are we going?"

Leo smirks. "Ever heard of New York?"

Ara has no clue what she'd do if she didn't have Leo.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

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