#might fuck w his clothing patterns when i draw him again but this is good enough lol

[honkowo]

ok posting another angel artdump cos ive got a enough silly shit accumulated teehee

from the top we have: leucistic tropics angel neil(@bucketnewt 's char), this oc meme template cos its silly, frozen coast angels float-testing an imp + a follow-up pic, clink's homo thoughts, & lastly the dicksucker

[inagetawaycarxo]

If requests are still open might i ask for headcanons on shield/elias/sheamus discovering his lady has back dimples? Thanks!

Discovering His Lady Has Back Dimples Hc w/ The Shield. Sheamus & Elias Samson

WARNINGS: Nothing to life-threatening, mentions of sexual content, fluff, errors I missed.

A/N: I’m sure tumblr will hide this from the search engine! Content underneath the cut!

Elias Samson;

Elias found out you had back dimples when he watched you change into a spare set of clothes.

“I never knew you had back dimples,” Elias spoke. Making you look at him with a shocked expression. Shirt halfway on.

“They are cute,” He spoke. Smiling at you. Making you feel flustered. You quickly put your shirt on.

Ever since then he won't stop gushing about them.

Telling you how cute they look.

Elias finds them cute.

His hand will go to them and trace them.

When he and you are cuddling, He will draw circles on them.

Sheamus;

Sheamus was in awe and a little surprised he didn’t realize before you had back dimples until now. Your shirt riding up a bit revealing your back dimples, as you brushed your teeth.

You noticed Sheamus gawking at you. You finished brushing your teeth, spitting the toothpaste out then washing your mouth out with water.  Rising your toothbrush before cleaning your tongue, then rinse your toothbrush off again. You turned the tap off as you put the toothbrush in the toothbrush holder.

You turned around. Giving him a sly smirk as he realized he got caught. You skipped over to him. jumping on the bed. Lying down beside him.

“Had a good look,” You teased, thinking he was staring at your ass. But that wasn’t the case. Resting your elbow on the bed as you rested the side of your face on the palm of your hand.

“I was looking at your back dimples,” He defended himself. Making you let out a chuckle as you pulled the covers back. Crawling into bed. Pulling the covers over you.

“Okay, whatever you say,” You spoke. Leaning over to him. Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. You pulled away. Laying your head on the pillow.

“I was,” He spoke a little louder.

“Mmhmm, Goodnight,” You responded as you closed your eyes…

Sheamus finds them adorable.

Often telling you how cute they are as he traces them. Or touches them.

He often traces them or touches your back dimples without realizing he is touching them. Or maybe he does.

Especially during intercourse.

Dean Ambrose;

Dean discovered your back dimples during sex.

He flipped you onto your stomach still inside of you. That was when he discovered you had back dimples.

Dean was in awe when he saw them. His fingers touching your back dimples.

“You are so gorgeous,” He moaned out….

He often traces your back dimples. Whether he is hugging you or not.

Tracing your back dimples when he gets possessive over you when someone flirts with you. It calms him down.

Dean will also touch/trace your back dimples during sex. Especially when he is giving you oral.

And kiss your back dimples.

Roman Reigns;

Roman adores all of your body. So, when he finds out you have back dimples he adores them as well.

Course he discovered them when the both of you were naked, in the shower. Doing more than just showering.

Roman was behind you. Leaving searing hot kisses along your neck. One of his hands entangled in your hair, while the other one grabbed his shaft, aligning it up with your entrance. Entering you. Both of you moaning.

Roman pushed your head down, making you bend in front of him.

“You can move now,” You gasped out. Grinding your hips against his. Trying to create friction. But he wouldn’t budge.

Roman let go of your hair, his fingers lightly tracing your back dimple. Mouth a gap. As he starred at your back dimples. His other hand touching your other back dimple.

“What?” You gasped out, turning your head and looking over your shoulder. You saw him staring at your lower back.

“Why haven’t I noticed your back dimples before?” Roman gasped out. Still staring at them, his fingers gently caressed them.

You starred at him for a second, mouth a gap. Feeling slightly sexually frustrated and feeling your heart flutter. As much as it made you swoon, he was still inside of you and you needed a release.

“Are you going to fuck me or are you going to keep staring at my back dimples,” You huffed out. not that Roman heard.

“You are so beautiful, He whispered.

“You know you can stare at my back dimples while fucking me, guess I got to do the thrusting,” You spoke, but he still didn’t listen to you, too caught up in admiring your back dimples…

Ever since then, he always compliments your back dimples.

Tracing patterns on your back dimples ever so lightly.

He often uses it to his advantage when both of you have sex.

Kissing your back dimples ever so softly. As he fingers you.  

Or when he eats you out. Either pressing your back dimples or tracing them during sex. Depends.

Seth Rollins;

Seth was in shock and awe when he discovered you had back dimples.

He was watching your match on the monitor backstage. Commentating on your every move.

He stopped talking when he noticed indentations on your lower back.

“She has back dimples,” He cooed. He wondered why he never noticed it until now. Maybe he wasn’t looking hard enough or paying attention.

Seth was too lost in his thoughts about your back dimples to realize your match was over.

He didn’t realize that until you raced over to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Pressing your body flush against his.

“I won,” You cheered. Seth quickly pulled away from you turning you around.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his behavior. What the hell was he doing? Did you do something wrong? You thought to yourself.

“So, beautiful,” He cooed, as he traced your back dimples. Making you smirk, then bite your lip.

Oh, he finally saw your back dimples.

“Can I get a hug from you? or do you want to trace my back dimples some more?” You teased. Turning your head and looking at him over your shoulder.

“The second option,” He spoke, still tracing them as you chuckled…

Just like Roman he uses your back dimples as an advantage during sex, and oral sex.

Caressing your back dimples, tracing them.

Staring at them in awe at night as you lay on his chest, or if you have your back to him.

A/N: FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

[morganaspendragonss]

hiya. could you write a fic where tk has a panic attack from carlos’s pov? 😘🧡

i can indeed! this is combined with an idea jamie ( @silvarafael ) had and very kindly allowed me to write - i hope you both enjoy! the first section is also based on a vague idea i had after watching the ep.

ao3 | 1.9k | 2.10 spoilers

TK is silent the entire drive home, choosing instead to stare out the window with his jaw firmly clenched, his hands making fists in his lap. The silence extends all the way into the house, right up until the point when he flops down on the couch with a loud, frustrated sigh, burying his head in his hands. 

At this point, Carlos knows not to push when TK is like this; he’ll talk when he wants to, and not a moment before. So he simply walks over, sitting next to him and placing a hand on TK’s back, rubbing gentle circles. TK slowly relaxes under his touch, unfurling his body, and Carlos is all too happy to let him shift into his arms, holding on and pressing kisses on the top of his head.

I’m here, he’s saying - not with words, but he knows the message gets across regardless. It may have only been less than a year since they started dating, but already they don’t always need words to communicate.

“I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable back there,” TK says suddenly. “I know my dad kind of dragged you into it all, and that must have been awkward for you.”

“It wasn’t my favourite interaction with your dad ever,” he admits.

TK snorts. “Understatement,” he mutters, and Carlos laughs, tilting his head in agreement. “I am sorry, though, really,” TK continues. “It was amazing of you to even be there; you didn’t have to be. I’m sure there are hundreds of places you’d rather be than an intervention session for my dad.”

“You mean supporting my boyfriend through something difficult and important?” Carlos corrects gently, shifting to catch TK’s eyes. “Because there’s nowhere I’d rather be than there.”

TK blinks at him, managing to hold his gaze for all of two seconds before he blushes and looks away. He takes Carlos’s hand, tapping restlessly on the back of it - a sure-fire sign he’s still worked up about something, so Carlos leaves him be, waiting for it to come out.

“Is it bad that I’m pissed at him?” TK’s voice is quiet, small, and it’s mirrored in his body language when he turns to Carlos, drawing his legs up and hunching his shoulders. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to connect with him, and it just feels like he’s constantly throwing it all right back in my face. And he’s… He’s such a fucking hypocrite. Ever since my first overdose, he’s been going on and on about how good it is to talk about my feelings and how I shouldn’t keep things bottled up, yet he insists on hiding this shit from me.”

TK laughs, short, sharp, bordering on hysterical. “He didn’t even tell me when he was fucking dying; I had to find that out by myself. And I’ve tried. I haven’t stopped trying.” He deflates, sinking back into Carlos with a defeated sigh. “But there’s only so much I can take, you know? I can’t… I can’t keep doing this, Carlos.”

Carlos’s heart breaks for his boyfriend. He wishes he could take the pain away; as it is, all he can do is hold him, and hope that he has enough words to at least dull the ache somewhat.

“It’s not bad to feel what you feel, TK.”

TK looks up at him, eyes wide. “You don’t think so?”

He shakes his head, kissing him again. “No. I think… I think your dad has treated you pretty unfairly, actually, and you’re well within your rights to be mad at him right now. But, I also think that you said it yourself; there’s only so much you can do. Before you can take care of your dad, you have to take care of yourself, and you can’t do that if you’re worrying over him.”

If TK’s eyes were any wider, it’d be comical. “But -”

“No buts.” Carlos smiles tightly, keeping his tone gentle. “TK, babe, you just led an intervention into your dad’s mental health, which I know was hard for you, yet you did it anyway because you love him. You tried, but if he doesn’t want to engage, then there’s nothing you can do.”

TK is silent for a long time, staring down at his lap. He’s still holding Carlos’s hand in one of his own, but his free hand is rubbing the material of Carlos’s shirt between his fingers; Carlos doubts he’s even fully aware he’s doing it.

“I know that,” he says eventually, voice little more than a whisper. “I do. I just wish he wasn’t so goddamn stubborn all the time.”

Carlos’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he speaks before he can stop himself. “Guess it runs in the family.”

TK stares at him, open-mouthed, and Carlos immediately regrets his words. He’s halfway through an apology when it’s like a dam breaks, and TK breaks out in giggles, his head thumping against Carlos’s chest.

“You’re lucky I love you, Reyes.”

Carlos grins and pulls TK as close to him as physically possible. “I really am.”

*

The call comes early the next morning, waking both of them up. TK grumbles as he smacks his hand against the nightstand in a blind search for his phone; the sight would be adorable if Carlos weren’t so tired himself. After the exhaustion of the past few days, he’d been desperately hoping to have a peaceful morning for once, maybe even - god forbid - to spend some quality time with his boyfriend without the threat of parents or work or sudden emergencies hanging over them. 

Clearly, though, it’s not to be, as TK suddenly sits bolt upright in bed, all traces of sleep gone.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” he promises to whoever’s on the other end, before lowering the phone and turning to stare at Carlos, terror obvious in his eyes. 

“TK?” Carlos asks when he doesn’t speak, sitting up and slowly reaching out for him. TK startles at the contact, but quickly leans into it, covering Carlos’s hand with his own.

He swallows once, twice. “Buttercup’s sick,” he whispers. “Dad had to rush him to the vet’s. Carlos, what if… What if…”

He trails off, shaking his head viciously, as though he can erase the thought from his mind. Carlos quickly moves to steady him, stroking his thumbs across his cheekbones to calm him down.

“Let’s get dressed, okay?” he says, knowing reassurances won’t mean a thing right now. “Then we’ll go, and we’ll know more.”

TK just nods, quiet as they go through the motions of getting ready. Carlos makes sure to press an apple into his hand before they head out; he knows it will likely go uneaten, but it’s the only choice he has, given he knows that TK will refuse to stop for breakfast without finding out about Buttercup first.

If the drive back from Owen’s yesterday was silent, today’s is far worse. TK’s hands are constantly moving in Carlos’s periphery, alternating between fiddling with his apple, tugging on his clothes and hair, and rubbing at his face. On the rare occasion he does try to stay still, his hands end up twitching in his lap, followed by a sudden burst of anxious movement before falling back into some semblance of a pattern.

Carlos presses his lips into a firm line, accelerating more than is technically legal; at any other time he’d make a joke about how TK’s turning him into a criminal.

They’re forced to stop at a traffic light, and Carlos curses under his breath, getting jittery himself as the drive extends. He turns to check on TK, then curses again at the sight of his boyfriend’s pale face, his wide eyes and trembling body. TK gasps, then again and again, a hand going to his chest, and Carlos knows what this is. 

A panic attack, but the second he reaches to help, the lights change and he’s forced to keep driving. He keeps one eye on TK the whole time, heart beating faster as he seems to get worse, and he’s thankful when he spots an opportunity to pull over, taking it immediately.

TK stares, shaking his head frantically and gesturing in a motion that Carlos takes to mean keep driving. His mouth opens and closes but he can’t form words, breaths coming short and fast. He folds in on himself when they stop, eyes closed and forehead almost touching his knees as his body heaves and shakes.

Carlos unbuckles himself and shifts as close as he can, placing one hand on TK’s back and taking his hand in the other, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. He’s had to do this a few times over the course of their relationship, shootings and kidnappings and disasters taking their toll on his boyfriend.

But that doesn’t make it any less difficult.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says, pushing his own fears aside. “Just breathe slowly, in and out, that’s it; it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

He keeps it up, murmuring assurances he barely registers himself until the shaking lessens and TK’s breath slowly but surely begins to even out. He straightens in his seat, eyes still closed, and leans his head against the headrest. 

Carlos pulls back, giving him a moment before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

TK shakes his head, then immediately changes his mind and nods. Still, it takes him a few seconds to speak. “What if it’s the cancer, Carlos?” he asks, peeling his eyes open, despair written all over his features. “He could - He could die, he could be dying right this second, and I don’t know if I can handle that, not after everything else.”

“I know,” Carlos says. “You just have to remember that we don’t know anything yet, and you have to believe that Buttercup will be fine until we do know more. We’ll take it from there, and if it is the cancer - which, yes, it might be - then we’ll all be around to support each other. Buttercup’s strong, though, I’m sure he’ll fight whatever this is with everything he has. He’ll be fine.”

Carlos smiles, noticing how TK is pretty much hanging onto every word he says. He takes a deep breath, briefly looking away before continuing, “As will your dad.”

TK frowns. “Who said anything about my dad?”

“TK.”

He sighs, hanging his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “this is a little bit about my dad. The longer he puts off this surgery, the more scared I get that the cancer will come back and we won’t get as lucky this time. I know it’s stupid, and I know I should be focused on Buttercup right now, but…”

“But,” Carlos agrees, reaching out and squeezing TK’s hand. “It’s okay, and it’s not stupid at all, I promise you. Let’s just take this one thing at a time, okay? First, we’ll get to the vet’s and find out how Buttercup is, and then we’ll see about having another conversation with your dad - maybe telling him what you’ve told me?”

TK exhales shakily, then nods. “Okay. Okay.”

Carlos gives him a small smile, squeezing his hand once more before shifting back in his seat to keep driving. “I’ll be right by your side,” he can’t help but say. He’s sure TK already knows, but the reminder can’t hurt, especially after what just happened.

TK stays quiet, but Carlos doesn’t miss the mumbled, “I don’t deserve you,” from the passenger seat. 

“Wrong,” he replies, eyes on the road. “You deserve the world.”

And, in his periphery, TK smiles.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there. 

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super. 

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door. 

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down. 

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t  d i d  i  f u c k i n g  t e l l  y o u ,  d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection. 

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father. 

okay that was funny. 

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm. 

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends? 

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead. 

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping. 

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that. 

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them. 

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there. 

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

~~

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan  @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption​ @capricorn-stark​ @batshit-birds​ @comics-observer @buticaaba​ 

[just-a-creep-babe]

~Matchup~

Commissioned by @folliaght tysm babe 🥰❤️

Requests are closed!

Masterlist: x

I match you with: Jane the Killer

With how madly in love Jeff was with you, there was no way in hell you would’ve been able to get away without some kind of outside help

Jane, knowing and loathing Jeff after being one of his many (many) victims, knew what it would take to save you

She was able to free you & give you a safe place to lay low for a while, which is actually how your relationship began c:

After spending time with you every day, she started seeing why he was so enamored with you

But, of course, knowing what you’d just been through, she was reluctant to make any moves

Homegirl wanted to give you all the time you needed to heal, after all

So she kept her distance—pretending to ignore the way your smile made her heart flutter & the way your lips always seemed to draw her attention

Without realizing, she ended up overdoing it

She wanted to spare you both from her developing feelings, but in her attempts, she ended up being way too cold & aloof

It’s only when you confronted her about avoiding you all the time that she finally came clean :”)

She made sure you didn’t feel any pressure at all to be with her + made it abundantly clear that she just needed to get this confession off her chest

She‘s, admittedly, surprised and absolutely elated when you tell her you’re ready for a new relationship

She’ll take things at a ~snail’s pace~ from the very beginning to make sure you’re comfortable with everything

She’ll also make sure she knows all about your boundaries so she doesn’t accidentally cross any of them :”)

Highkey drinks her respect women juice every 👏single 👏day 👏so you can bet your tush she’ll give you all the space you need when ya need it

She’s a great listener too—always super attentive + great at empathizing & validating your feelings <3

She’ll do her best to fulfill your needs to make up for all of the bad relationships you’ve had to deal with in the past

*Cough* Jeff *cough*

She just thinks you deserve way better than what you’ve been given & wants to make it up somehow, y’know? 🥰🥰

She fucking adores how soft & sweet you look in the clothes you wear

Loves the mix of delicate and feminine with that classic, natural tone to it ☺️👌

You just have such a cute style—every time she sees you she has to resist smothering your face in lovely little kissies uwu

She admires how, after everything you’ve been through, you’re still not afraid of being yourself & experiencing vulnerability/emotional depth

While she typically listens to rock & heavier types of music, she’ll try to get into classical music for you—and whenever she’s too worked up or stressed & you’re not there to calm her down, she’ll put on a track that reminds her of you & it’ll immediately soothe her

You’re just so lovely, she loves you to bits 🥺✨

Loves lazy days where she’ll prepare some tea or hot chocolate and snuggle up w/ you on the couch under a big warm blanket while you play animal crossing

Because of how attentive she is, one way or another, whether you tell her or she finds out on her own, she’ll learn about your past with your eating disorder

She trusts that you’re much healthier now & can look after yourself, but she’ll still watch out if you start showing signs that you might be re-experiencing some symptoms

And she loves cooking healthy food with/for you so she can make sure you’re nice & full of them good nutrients ^^

She’s a pretty decent cook, but she does mess up sometimes, so she’ll either come to you for help, or y’all will just order takeout while watching some old-timey cartoons :3

It’s actually a Sunday tradition for y’all to wake up & enjoy breakfast while watching cartoons ^^

It’s a super comforting ritual; the stress of the week just melts away & you can both enjoy each other’s presence in peace <3

And after that, she’ll take you downtown to scour second hand shops & y’all will spend the day window-shopping/exploring out & about :>

If anyone dares to make misogynistic comments or try to flirt with you while you’re together, she will end them

Not in your presence though, ofc

No, while in front of you, she’ll just as easily shut them down & humiliate them so bad they’ll immediately regret it

Homegirl’s got some claws and she’s not afraid to show them, especially when your comfort is at stake

She wants you to be as happy & carefree as possible; even if she knows you can handle yourself & are mostly unfazed by what other people think, there’s no way in hell she’s gonna let others try to bring you down

She’s sUPER protective of you tbh

Although she can’t always hang around & watch anime w/ ya sometimes because of how busy she is, she‘ll always make time in her schedule to participate in some of the hobbies you enjoy ^^

She gets way too frustrated trying to sew and it’s actually kind of cute & funny when she tries lmfaoo, but like I mentioned, she enjoys cooking/baking & she also really likes drawing

Seriously, she loves art & is pretty skilled at it too!

She makes for quite the teacher ;)

And even though she’s got a personal vendetta against sewing, she’ll still encourage you by looking up cool patterns & designs for clothing inspiration to try out

Wants 👏to 👏see 👏you 👏flourish 👏

She’s sO damn proud of the progress you’ve made to get to the point where you are now

She knows things haven’t always been easy, which is why she’s always there for you & gives you as much time & attention as you need

She also does everything in her power to keep Jeff from finding you again

And if it ever came down to it, she’d fight tooth & nail to make sure you safely got away from him

Y’all honestly have bonded over similar traumas & bad experiences

She also hasn’t had it easy, so she understands what you’ve been through & can empathize really well to your experiences

Appreciates & admires your strength, bravery, confidence & optimism so damn much, you have no idea :”)

Overall? Best gf 🥺💞💗💖

NSFW

As I’ve mentioned, Jane takes things as s-l-o-w-l-y as need be to make sure you’re feeling alright before going any further

Sex is definitely not at the top of her list of priorities

She values your comfort & safety above all

So it actually takes a decent while until y’all get together in bed, especially if you don’t typically initiate things

And she’s extra careful, extra caring & extra attentive to your needs all throughout

Reassures you ~multiple~ times that you don’t need to go all the way & can stop anytime you want

She takes care of all your needs before even considering her own

Seriously just wants to make it the best experience she can for you <3

When she finds out it’s your first time with a woman, she can’t help but get some devious ideas for the future 😈

Wants to show you how much better than men women are at pleasuring ladies~

Ngl, she can get a little cocky about her skills in the bedroom, but it’s a well-earned attitude 👀

The more y’all sleep together, the less afraid/reluctant she’ll be & the more confident she’ll grow with the way she touches you

And if you wanna experiment with anything? She’ll gladly take suggestions uwu

You might have to do a bit of convincing before trying anything too rough though, because she doesn’t wanna hurt you

But, ya know, she also wants you to be satisfied with your sex life, so she likely won’t flat-out say no to anything

There will be safe words however

Also if you ever wanna do penetration, she’s killer with a strap-on, just sayin 👀💦💦

Highkey leans towards being dominant cause she likes the control

And also,, being too vulnerable isn’t her fave, y’know?

She would totes make an exception for you if ya wanted to be on top, but she knows you’re pretty submissive, so it works out perfectly 😘

She loves how cute you look all panting & flustered beneath her~

She gets a lot of pleasure and satisfaction from making you feel good, so you definitely won’t find her complaining if you’re a bit of a pillow princess 😉

Her aftercare btw? Bomb af ☺️☺️

Like,, because she knows you’ve had bad experiences with past partners, she’ll put sO much effort into assuring your happiness & comfort at the end of everything

So she’ll bring you a glass of water, offer plenty of cuddles & praises—hell, homegirl will give you a back AND foot rub if you ask for it

Just wants her princess to be happy <3

Loves you w all her blackened heart 😘

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (5/6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  (@geraskier-trashh​ @negativenuggetz​)

A/N: oh lord this wasn’t supposed to be 3k words long XD Hope you like it tho!

***

It was a bad idea to tell Geralt not to wear all black. Well, the scarf is grey and the coat and the shoes are black, but they don’t matter. Geralt’s just taken them off to reveal a three-piece suit and a shirt with two top buttons undone, the clothing in a deep, navy blue colour. His eyes stand out beautifully against it. Geralt in navy blue makes Jaskier want to weep and it’s only half-past noon. To add to Jaskier’s tragic swoon, Geralt’s hair is braided away from his face into a lovely plait at the back of his head (which Jaskier suspects is Ciri’s doing). It just shouldn’t look as good as it does. Geralt is so stunning today that words other than what the fuck do not begin to cover it.

Not to blurt out that in lieu of a greeting, Jaskier spreads his arms wide and exclaims, “Ahoy, captain!”

Geralt snorts with disgust. “Never say that again.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Come in, come in,” he says as he ushers Geralt into the living room, “make yourself at home. Are you hungry? It’s last chance for a snack before I put on some eyeliner and we’re off!”

“Eyeliner?” Geralt repeats with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, to finish off this look!” he replies as he gestures at the floral Gucci suit he’s wearing. The outfit’s actually demure considering his usual fashion choices. Bright colours and ridiculous patterns are his go-to but today is the first day of his life when he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Much. “Help yourself with something from the kitchen if you want,” he says over his shoulder, already leaving for the bathroom.

The makeup takes just a minute or two – eyeliner application has become much less of dark magic with practice. He decides to put on some pretty pink lip gloss as well because, although he’s going to spare his family today and won’t flaunt his queerness at them, he still has to do something. It’s not at all because he hopes his fiancé might like it.

(Geralt’s suit)

(Jaskier’s suit)

When he strides into the living room, he poses like a model and asks, “How do I look?”

Geralt, who sits on the couch, stares him up and down. His gaze almost makes Jaskier blush, so does his smirk. Both border on appreciative. “Really good,” he says.

Since Jaskier expected some mean comment, he almost topples over in shock at the compliment. He sputters, definitely flushing a bit, but quickly re-establishes a working link between his mouth and his brain. “Of course I do, darling,” he replies with a wink. Geralt smirks in that sexy way again. Jaskier has to give himself a good mental shake to stop staring. Clearing his throat, he starts thinking out loud, “So! Have I got everything for the party? I’ve got Geralt, and then the present, and then... Ah! The rings!”

Jaskier sits down next to Geralt and pulls the box out of the pocket of his jacket. Raising the lid, he reveals two rings seated within, one silver and one gold. “Should I kneel?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier laughs with delight, then takes out the silver ring and passes it to Geralt. It’a simple but chunky band with tiny engravings. Jaskier figured Geralt wouldn’t appreciate anything too showy. Geralt takes it and inspects what’s engraved on it. “What kind of flowers are those?” he asks.

“Buttercups,” Jaskier explains, “That’s what my name means. My grandma always told me I’m a jaskier.”

Pretty but poisonous. It’s extremely fitting.                                    

Geralt only hmms and slides the ring on his finger. It’s a perfect fit but it’s no thanks to Jaskier’s genius deduction or anything; he simply knew Geralt’s ring size because Geralt told him. After their phone conversation regarding ring preferences, family drama and other things, they kept talking. Geralt even began starting conversations by himself – he’d send some texts about Ciri like “Ciri says hi” or “Ciri’s playing that song again”. It made Jaskier melt every time.

“Look what you bought me in return, darling,” he says, smiling excitedly, and puts on the gold ring. It’s much more flashy than Geralt’s – a signet with a three-dimensional head of a wolf. “White Wolf” is apparently Geralt’s nickname and a pseudonym of sorts. Wolves are his favourite animals, too.

Jaskier holds out his hand, putting it next to Geralt’s on the couch, and admires the rings on their fingers. “They suit us,” he says quietly

Geralt hmms. “They do.”

The drive is two hours long. Geralt insisted on driving even though it’s Jaskier’s car. Jaskier has a suspicion that driving is an excuse not to listen to him as he’s going over the essential family drama, but it’s mostly for his own sake anyway. He just wants to delude himself that Geralt will be well-prepared for everything and all will go smoothly. They will be fine. They must.

When they pull up in front of Jaskier family’s mansion, panic and second thoughts wash over him alternately in cold and hot waves. As they walk out of the car and Geralt hands him the keys, Jaskier hides within himself and observes the reality unravel a sense of detachment. He doesn’t want to be a part of the upcoming disaster.

“Ready?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier only looks at him helplessly. Geralt offers him his arm and Jaskier takes it like a lifeline. He clutches on it, the touch grounding him, as they walk towards the front door silently.

“Should’ve guessed you were rich,” Geralt remarks as he takes in the mansion looming before them.

“My success in music is all my own,” Jaskier replies feistily, “it took me ten years.”

Geralt wisely doesn’t say anything else and Jaskier settles down, letting out a shaky breath. He always gets very defensive of his achievements. Sis parents paid for nothing; he never asked them to. He hates that people assume differently.

The entrance hall is empty when they invite themselves in, but not for long. Just as they manage to take off their coats, they hear someone coming down the stairs. Jaskier looks up to see Rozalia, his older sister. She’s only one year older than him but doesn’t look a day over thirty. In appearance, she’s all mum: luxuriant dark locks, cat-green eyes, tan skin, and regal features.

“Julek!” she exclaims with a smile and rushes down the stairs into Jaskier’s open arms. They laugh when their bodies collide.

“Hey, horror sister!” Jaskier says, the words their special greeting.

“Hey, wild brother!” Rozalia replies, as tradition commands.

When Jaskier releases her from his embrace, he goes on to introduce Rozalia and Geralt to each other.

“So this is your fiancé,” Rozalia drawls after she and Geralt shake hands, clearly amused, and looks Geralt up and down. “Holy shit. I can see why you kept him a secret.”

Jaskier purses his lips, putting a possessive arm around Geralt’s waist. “Roza, you’re married.”

Rozalia only smirks, then turns on her heel and starts walking down the corridor towards the living room. “Everyone! Julek’s here!” she announces loudly.

“Julek?” Geralt mutters to Jaskier as they start following Rozalia.

“Diminutive of Julian,” Jaskier explains quietly.  

“Sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Jaskier snorts under his breath but doesn’t reply. The sensation of detachment from the reality is there again and Jaskier doesn’t fight it – the distance between him and everything else wards off the impending panic attack.

Like in a dream, he sees his other sister Amelia, who’s five years younger than him, marching towards them, her mop of short golden curls bouncing up and down as she walks. With her sweet face and wide blue eyes (just like Jaskier’s, which they both got from their dad), she looks like an angel. (Spoiler alert: she’s not. She can be the worst. That’s kind of the youngest’s privilege, though).

When Amelia hugs him and Jaskier introduces her and Geralt to each other, he’s still in a daze. Amelia walks on his side as they all enter the living room, chatting about something to him, but he doesn’t really hear it due to the ringing sound in his ears.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles.

Jaskier looks into the sun-like, concerned eyes. The warmth calms him down. 

He takes in everyone in the room: his parents, Alfred and Wanda. Amelia, Rozalia and her husband Silvio. Dad’s brother, uncle Konrad, with his wife and son Ferrant. Mum’s sisters, aunts Maria, Hanna and Anna with their husbands. All watching Jaskier and Geralt expectantly.  

Jaskier puts on his best smile and lays a hand on the small of Geralt’s back. “Everyone, this is Geralt Rivia. A Royal Navy commander,” he says and observes, delighting in the array of shocked reactions his family display. “My fiancé,” he adds with pride that he doesn’t even have fake.

A round of introductions follows. Geralt shakes everyone’s hands and says nice things like “honoured to meet you finally”, “Jaskier told me so much about you” and “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you earlier”. It’s actually pretty convincing, Jaskier has to give him that. Still, it doesn’t stop one of the questions Jaskier dreads the most.

“But why didn’t you tell us anything, darling?” his mum asks as everyone sits down at the table in the dining room.

This is it, Jaskier thinks mournfully, this is when it all goes to hell. At least Geralt sits next to him. It would be a quick departure – Jaskier will just grab his fiancé and run out of the house.

“Exactly,” Amelia seconds, her slender arms crossed before her chest, “it isn’t like you. You would tell the whole world about your engagement in some wild Twitter thread.”

Shit. She got him there. “W-well, I...”

“I asked him not to,” Geralt comes to the rescue. At the confused looks from everyone around, he goes on, “Not until I go on at least one more deployment and Jaskier’s absolutely sure he wants this. He should have it easier in case he changes his mind. Fewer people know about it, less painful it is to announce.”

Jaskier’s dad frowns. “But why do you assume he’d do that?” he inquires, regarding Geralt with suspicion.

“Being in a relationship with a marine officer is hard,” Geralt replies with a heavy sigh and makes a dramatic pause. Jaskier’s family looks at him with almost bated breath but he takes his time, the bastard. He already has them hanging off his every word. “My deployments are rarely shorter than nine months long,” he confesses ruefully.

A stunned silence falls over the room. Jaskier’s family stare at him with disbelief – they all know Jaskier wouldn’t be able to survive a relationship like that, not with how needy he can be.

Of bloody course Geralt would take it too far at the very start.

“But I’m stubborn!” Jaskier exclaims as cheerfully as he can, “Won’t have anyone else but Geralt.”

“Well, that’s all you,” Amelia says, and Jaskier heaves a sigh of relief.

It’s not that Jaskier doesn’t appreciate Amelia’s inquisitive mind. She’s always had the tendency to analyze and look into everything until every fact and detail adds up. Her character makes her the perfect heir to the family business, which she’s agreed to gladly. Ever since she made that decision, Jaskier choosing music is much less of a painful topic for their family. And so, Jaskier certainly values his younger sister’s nature of constant question-asking, but not in moments like this.

Amelia appears to already know what is going on here and Jaskier only prays she’ll be nice enough not to delve into it too much. Maybe some warning glances from Rozalia and begging ones from Jaskier will stop her. Maybe.

Food is served, alcohol starts flowing. Jaskier’s family begin asking Geralt about himself but Jaskier always tries to twist the conversation so that questions about their relationship don’t come. Until they do.

After they sang dad happy birthday, told him their wishes and gave him the gifts, it’s time to eat the birthday cake. Just when Jaskier puts half of his slice on Geralt’s plate (he doesn’t even like cake), Silvio asks, “When did you two meet?”

Geralt and Jaskier share a look. Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but it’s Geralt who says, “It was two years ago. I walked into a bar where Jaskier was playing. He asked me for a review of his songs after his performance.”

Geralt has the audacity to smirk at him so Jaskier, just to be a little shit, adds, “In three words or less!”

Geralt doesn’t appreciate this contribution judging by how he narrows his eyes at him. Jaskier knows they’re treading a dangerous ground – in their stupidity, they didn’t discuss the details of their “first meeting”. Geralt started it, though.

“And what did you say?” Silvio questions.

“That they don’t exist,” Geralt replies without a beat, still staring Jaskier in the eye.

“Whaaat don’t exist?” Jaskier’s father says what Jaskier himself almost blurts out.

“The creatures in his songs,” Geralt explains.

The affronted noise that leaves Jaskier's mouth is beyond his control. “It’s folk! The genre allows for fantastical elements like that!” He huffs. “But you know, Geralt with his commander mind always wants the facts and only facts.”

“So you don’t like Julek’s singing?” Rozalia asks Geralt.

Geralt denies this with a shake of his head. “Jaskier sings beautifully,” he replies, “Like a siren.” He lays his hand on Jaskier’s and looks into Jaskier’s eyes. “My siren,” he adds quietly.

Jaskier has to gape a little. He barely restrains himself from mouthing are fucking serious? because, really, Geralt can’t just say things like that. When he regains his composure, he decides to be mean. “I told you not to call me that, dear heart,” he says, “Not exactly flattering. Sirens lured sailors to their demise.”

Geralt does that lethally adorable head tilt and answers, “Still would go for you.”

He can hear aunt Maria cooing in the background, bless her heart, but Jaskier almost doesn’t register it. His attention is fully on Geralt – there’s something new in his gaze, beneath the teasing glint. Something guarded, tentative and true. Jaskier cocks his head to the side just a little bit. Geralt notices the question in the gesture (they’re really getting good at reading each other, aren’t they?) and answers by raising an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Jaskier experiences the feeling of a thousand butterflies fluttering their wings in his stomach when he understands – it’s an invitation. He accepts.

Geralt’s lips stretch into a small smile and he squeezes Jaskier’s hand on the table, intertwining their fingers together. Jaskier’s heart almost gives out and he grins, giddy like a teenager who’s just found out their crush is reciprocated. It’s not that far off from the truth anyway.

Uncle Konrad asks Geralt about the Navy. The two of them start discussing working in the army but Jaskier only half-listens, too focused on cherishing the feel of Geralt’s palm engulfing his. Until Geralt takes his hand away, that is.

With a displeased grunt, Geralt takes his phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket. The screen displays an incoming call. “I should take this,” he says apologetically and quickly walks out of the dining room.   

The moment Geralt leaves, the assault is unleashed upon Jaskier. His family bombard him with so many questions and remarks at once that he only hears what Rozalia sitting next to him says. “Didn’t know you were into older men,” she comments, swirling the wine in her glass innocently.

“He’s forty!”

She frowns. “Then what’s the deal with the hair?”

Jaskier freezes in panic. Fucking hell, what is the deal with the hair? He has no idea. Geralt refused to answer his questions. “W-well,” he stutters out, “it’s really... uhh...” He clears his throat. “Not my story to tell. Geralt doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Rozalia hums, an amused twinkle in her eyes. “How mysterious.”

“He sure does seem mysterious,” uncle Konrad chimes in, “And...”

“Quiet?” Ferrant suggests.

“Taciturn?” Silvio supplies.

“Closed off?” aunt Hanna adds.

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” Jaskier cuts in, interrupting this merry-go-round offering of adjectives before it spirals into everyone calling Geralt a brute.

“It’s not,” aunt Anna reassures, “It’s just that... I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering how on earth the relationship is even working with him being like this and you being, well...” she trails off and gestures at Jaskier with her fork. “You.”

“Frist off, I’ll take this as a compliment –”

“Of course, dear.”

“ – and secondly, even though we’re different, our differences only keep things... interesting, if you get my meaning.” Jaskier throws in a telling wink, and his uncles chuckle.

“Julian!” both his parents cry out, scandalised.

“Honestly,” Jaskeir goes on, unmoved, “deep down, he and I are quite the same.”

“Indeed?” Amelia asks, “Is he also a bastard at heart?”

“Yesss!” he hisses out, wildly pleased. Sometimes he loves Amelia’s analytic mind.

“He actually seems like a sweetheart,” his mum says, warming Jaskier to his very heart. He loves his mum so much – she always sees the best in people.  

“He’s both, really,” he replies, “He’s certainly a sweetheart to his daughter.” Jaskier delights in shocking his family once again. Then, an idea pops up in his mind, “If you ask him about her, he’ll open right up.”

Before anyone can ask anything else, Geralt returns. After taking one look at him, Jaskier knows something is wrong. There’s tension about him but his face is a blank mask. 

“Something wrong, love?” Jaskier whispers, barely realising that he even said the endearment.

“Work,” Geralt grunts.  

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s father says, “Julian tells us you have a daughter?”

Geralt face lights up immediately. It’s such a charming sight. Jaskier’s chest constricts with how everything in him screams and begs don’t ever go. 

“Yes,” he answers and launches into talking about Cirilla – how old she is, where she goes to school, what she likes doing. How she loved to paint her little hands on the walls when she was six. Soon after that, everyone shares funny stories about children, either their own or themselves as kids.

Jaskier zones out a bit, too busy wondering why Geralt took his hand away when he reach for it.

Later, Jaskier’s parents invite Geralt to stay for the night, which makes the fake-fiance scheme a success; they wouldn’t allow someone who they thought to be a stranger to sleep in their house.

Geralt doesn’t take them up on their offer.

TBC

Part 6

***

A/N: Rozalia is the Horror while Jaskier is the Wild 💕 (Amelia is the nasty angel baby. They adore her for it. Must protecc).

(Also, I love making up OCs, can you tell? XD)

[themilky-way]

the motive {loki odinson}

gif credit: astouract

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: he takes pleasure in the way you react to his words. it’s a fun game up until you’ve had enough, and everything he’s wanted is sitting before him. based on the morning by the weeknd.

warnings: was supposed to be hella implied nsfw but i guess i got soft halfway through BUT i redeemed myself so ha 😼. anyways, minor nsfw themes and language, so caution. tiny, TINY angst oops. we kinky in dis one 

author’s note: i started school again so getting more works done will take a bit longer but i’ll try to write as much as i can! anyways hope this satisfies y’all 😌

-------

it had started out as a joke. a fun little game that would bring him some sort of entertainment during his stay on earth. and while it did work fairly well during the first few weeks, he never thought it would transition into this-whatever the hell this was.

loki was cunning and devious; it was part of his nature that would never cease to exist within him. he enjoyed causing some trouble here and there if it meant he kept a molecule of sanity. so when thor suggested he stay with him at the avengers tower, he thought he might explode. living in a humongous multi billionaire house with the people who wanted him dead? it was a set up. it had to be.

for loki, the first few weeks had been tolerable. he’d wake up in his assigned bedroom, fix himself a mediocre breakfast once the kitchen was empty, and then scurry up to a quiet place. he discovered that he could do as he pleased whenever the compound was free of residents, and since the avengers had much bigger threats now, he didn’t have to worry about them spying on him. it was false freedom, but he could live with it.

when he’d have such luxury, he would sometimes walk down to the common room to settle with a good book. sure, it may appear to be a boring pastime, but it wasn’t as if loki was going to throw an exuberant ball without tony’s permission. not that he was a man- dare he say god-of seeking approval, but it was common courtesy, for odin’s sake! he had morals he needed to follow, thus requiring him to partake in hobbies that would not get him in trouble.

however, when he came across a particular mortal one night, the values he sought after vanished. it’s as if they never existed at all, and once again the laws of time and space defied him. you were there, taking up his entire field of vision in just an oversized t-shirt. could it be your partner’s? loki questioned. it most likely was, yet he found himself hoping it wasn’t. in that moment, it didn’t help that his mind had stopped functioning. when you stepped into the kitchen, the shirt hiking up slightly with every step, his body didn’t allow him to look away. his novel was discarded far away on the couch, and his hands searched for some type of cloth to grip. it was here, with your body bent over and curiously searching through the refrigerator, that his carnal instincts heightened. then, his knuckles turned white when you finally noticed him.

“oh fuck, hi,” you gasped. the glass bottle you were holding dropped, but it knew better than to actually hit the floor. seconds after catching it, you turned to look at the stranger in front of you. “didn’t see ya there.”

loki tried-really tried-to think of a good reason not to bend you over again, on that lovely kitchen counter your fingertips were dancing on, and take you right then and there. perhaps it might seem a tad bit rude? would such an action be impolite? the right answer was yes: it was absolutely all of the above. a first date is necessary to win the heart of a lady, and then a couple more to build a friendship. the relationship would come naturally, with given time, of course. in his head, the god was scoffing at how eager he was to win this clumsy, beautiful creature. he was one who took what he wanted-whenever he wanted-and didn’t look back. but loki was confined to the dull walls of the compound, and apparently so were you. he needn’t worry, for time had joined his side once more; he’d get to know how sweet you could taste, how your mouth would mindlessly shudder out his name, and the man couldn’t be more thrilled.

“are you able to speak?”

the simple question reached him, and when he searched for the source, he came face to face with you. you were standing in front of him, in all your delicious glory, and it almost broke him. still, he was deceitful; you couldn’t know that. “of course i speak, you fool,” loki shot back.

“okay, well, you didn’t answer me back there,” you pointed out. your hands were neatly clasped behind you, excitedly rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet, when you extended a hand for introduction. your name confidently slipped out, giving loki the most tender smile anyone could offer him. “pleased to meet you, sir.”

sir. the name stirred something up inside him, and he wasn’t able to tell if he’d accidentally let out a moan upon hearing it. did you know how innocent you sounded? how ravishing you appeared right now-with the soft skin of your thighs drawing out the patterns he so wished to kiss, or how the outline of your bosom prominently showed itself through your clothes. he stopped himself, though, before he could cross the line between observant and creepy. the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, having had the same dreadful feeling for far too long during his lifetime.

“don’t call me that.” the hand you were holding out was covered by his own. the handshake was quick, not too harsh or loose, but just adequate. he said his name, and he found himself missing the feeling of your skin against his.

“why?”

“because it’s not for you to say.” a lie. a very well calculated one, at that. he may be properly forged in the art of deception, but right now he wasn’t quite sure he passed the test. if he could grant permission to any woman to use the term of endearment, it’d sure as hell be you.

“alright then,” you mildly laughed. “i’ll just have to find a name i can call you.”

after that, loki realized that his source of happiness ultimately came from you. he enjoyed the unlikely bond you both had, one that formed because of the god’s inability to keep it in his pants. it was awkward at first-with everything you did or said locked in his mind wherever he’d go-but the confidence he always carried with him returned at one point.

today, loki never forgot to let you know what you did to him. this was it. the game he sought after since his inherent arrival at the tower. this was the adrenaline, the crazed connection he’d been hunting for centuries. it ignited something-between the two of you-whenever loki’s mouth would hover over your earlobe, whispering just how agonizingly slow he could take you. he never mentioned how he’d go about doing it, leaving you to wonder which part of him would fulfill the deed. oftentimes, loki didn’t even have to say anything. if he was feeling particularly shy that evening, and the team was all there, all loki would do was pat his knee. if you want to, if you really need to, you can finish on my leg. the simple image of it would have your hand between your legs that night.

“loki, what the hell.” you found him inside your dorm one particularly rainy night, lighting the candles you kept on either of your nightstands. “i keep my door locked for a reason, y’know. and stop wasting my candles.”

“i can’t help myself, darling. they smell quite lovely,” loki smiled. it was sincere, adoring even, and the way he took comfort in your tiny space brought a light tug to your stomach. you stayed still as you watched his tall form stride over to you. a small breath caught in your throat when loki peered down at you, and he caught it. he knew what he did to you, and he gained a new sense of pride at just how quickly he could make your knees go weak. his thumb and index fingers suddenly-gently-lifted your chin higher so your eyes could lock together. his own searched for something as if to look for the answer to his next question.

“you’re aware this isn’t just strictly physical, right?”

quite frankly, you were not in the loop even a little bit. “what?”

the tiny whisper made him want to carve out your lips with his own, slow, and taunting, and hard. he refrained for the time being. “think hard on it. there’s no rush.”

“no, i get what you meant. it’s just” you shook your head, prompting loki to let go of his grip. “i dunno. i thought you didn’t catch feelings, let alone for me.” loki let out a hearty laugh which forced a goofy grin onto your face. you liked seeing him like this. happy.

“i’m not stone cold, darling. you’re the only one i’ve ever had an infatuation with, though. well done, you seem to have captured my heart,” he joked. you giggled with him as you lightly shoved his chest, but loki caught your wrist before you could take it back. the kiss he brought to the inside of it had you swooning. a childish, girly feeling, yet you couldn’t care less. the both of you stayed there for a while and casually chatted until it was time for loki to head out. that night, you hardly got any sleep.

-------

ever since then, loki acted as if he didn’t remember it. he went back to his cocky self, not that you minded, but some simple recognition would’ve been nice. the days lapsed as they did before: loki doing everything in his divine power to make you ache for him. it worked, no matter how hard you avoided it, but soon you stopped trying. your body demanded for loki to touch you. to give you more than a simple brush of his lips to your wrist, yet he gave you anything but. and so you set out to change that.

it was the late hours of the night, with your team comfortably dispersed amongst the common room. movie night was in full effect, and no one had the intention of looking away from the gory film that was currently playing. you were seated next to wanda, the man you wanted painfully too far away from your reach. he didn’t have any clue you were angry with him, nor were you going to tell him. he was a thoughtful man, he’d figure it out.

you blinked away only to be met with his gaze. it was sharp, hungry. he looked you over as his tongue dipped out to run along his lip, biting it once he finally saw what he wanted. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t arouse you. of course it did; the poor man would rail you straight into this couch right now if he got the chance to.

you looked away, fearing vulnerability, and somehow managed to make it to the end of the marathon. you all said your farewell’s and deparated to your designated corridors, and just when you were about to close your door, a hand stopped it.

he pushed himself inside without much resistance from your own part. you stepped back and allowed him to close it, suddenly feeling a bit small. he looked at you then, the hunger replaced by confusion.

“is everything alright?” he inquired. no it’s not. you won’t shove two fingers into my mouth and tell me how good i’ve been.

“is everything alright-” you scoffed, “no it’s fucking not, loki.” you ran your hands through your hair and looked down, finding the decorative tiles on your floor quite intriguing.

“hey, woah, look at me. tell me what’s wrong, sweet.”

“that. that’s what’s wrong, loki. it’s the way you can tease me whenever you want, and call me sweet names and expect me not to react. you give me nothing to work with, for fuck’s sake!” a couple tears ran down your cheeks unbeknownst to you, but loki was quick to hold your face in his hands. his thumb wiped the drops in quick, tender-like motions and he crumbled at the way you focused on him.

“i’m sorry, darling. my intentions were never meant to bring you harm, much less sorrow. how can i fix this?”

“i need you to, fuck i-” you took a couple of breaths. “i need-want-you to touch me. to make me feel good, in all the ways you know how.”

loki chuckled quietly, a proud, defiant smirk curving along his lips. “is that what this is about? why, you could’ve just asked. no need for a tantrum.”

rolling your eyes, you tried to look away from him, but his hands began traveling to the curve of your neck, a lonely thumb parting your lips. he pried your mouth open and slipped it inside, letting the noise hidden in the back of his throat escape when your tongue wrapped around him. “is this what you wanted?”

your own luscious moan filled the room, and you felt his thumb push harder against your tongue.

“use your words, angel.”

an enticing gasp. “yes, sir.”

[honeyandfiregame]

Little Red Rider

This self-indulgent werewolf poly smut was sponsored by @grimaugur - thank you for your patience! (2.8k words under the cut)

Even as you were buying it, you knew it was less a purchase for you and more a gift for him. Wearing it in front of the mirror, your heart started racing as you were thinking about his reaction...

You looked like a gift, all wrapped in red lace, the blush of your skin a lovely match to the color. The bra hugs your flat chest, skin peeking through the see-through fabric between the elegant patterns, the lacy panties frame your bulge nicely, but you know the real attraction is the heart-shaped hole cut out in the back. A perfect seduction to be unwrapped.

And just as you thought, he was so very pleased by the present. So much so, before you know it, you’re flat on your back on Zenos’ desk, ankles on his shoulders, hands in his as he thrusts into you so deep and good you feel like you’re melting. The red is darkening at the tip as your erection strains at the fabric and you moan helplessly, squeezing your fingers around Zenos’.

“I love this delectable view.” He smiles. “Thank you so much for the surprise, pup. Makes me want to just devour you more and more.”

It’s hard to hold a steady smile when you quake inside with every deep, dominating plunge of his cock into you, but you sink your teeth into the side your bottom lip and manage.

“You saying you’re gonna eat me? What a big, scary wolf you are,” you tease.

Zenos chuckles at that and lets go of your hands to lean down over you, shifting your legs to the crooks of his arms. He rolls his hips forward, pushing his hard length up into your walls in way that makes you arch your back, a whine drawn out.

“Yeah, the big bad wolf’s gonna eat you up,” he growls, his smirk flashing a prominent canine.

Though you feel a shot of excitement at the dangerous display, you can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, I love you,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His thrusts slow to a gentle, but deep rocking so he can rest his forehead against yours. “I love you too, bunny.”

Just after he says that, you hear the click of the door and freeze. Curious, Zenos looks over his shoulder, then winks at you.

“Hi, Day,” he calls back. Just as he does,  Day appears at his side, in the middle of removing his coat.

“Hey,” he greets casually and tilts his head to give Zenos a kiss, but even as their lips connect, Day’s scrutinizing eye is scanning your body. You feel your skin burning hot everywhere his gaze drifts, his expression unreadable.

Tossing his coat to the side, Day circles the desk and leans over you.

“What’s this?” He tilts his head. His finger hooks on the front of your bra and - snap! You flinch as he slips his finger away, shooting the band of the bra back against your chest. It was a tiny sting, barely anything, but by the twitch of his lips, you know he liked the way you jumped.

Zenos runs his hands down your sides to grab your hips as he leans back, gearing up for one, harsh thrust that makes you throw your head back and moan. Both of your wolves are leaning over you now, smirks on their faces.

“Oh, Little Red here decided he’d buy something frilly and offer himself up to a couple of wolves,” Zenos finally answers, returning to a more even, pleasure-inducing rhythm. “Wanna get a taste yourself?”

You flash Day a smile and he returns his own insincere, wolf-toothed version of the gesture.

“Hm. Cute. I suppose I will.” He stands and unzips his jeans. “Or it’s more like he will.”

You lick your lips as he pulls his lengthy cock out, still only half-mast, waving it in your face.

Realizing this position isn’t going to work, you’re left feeling empty when Zenos pulls out. Ignoring your whimper of protest, you’re pulled off the desk and turned around. A hand on the back of your neck bends you over until your face is once again right in front of Day’s crotch.

Your body clenches with yearning as you feel the hot touch of Zenos’ cock, but he doesn’t slide in again. Instead, hands press in your soft cheeks, effectively slotting his shaft between them to grind teasingly against your hole.

Day’s hand on the back of your head draws your attention forward as he cants his hips, docking the tip of his hardening cock against your lips. Unable to resist the temptation of his lewd masculinity, your lips part, your tongue meeting the taste of his crown instantly.

He makes no indication he enjoys your ministrations on his cock, but you know him better than that. So, you brace your hands on his thighs to keep yourself steady and lavish his shaft with your tongue and soft lips until it grows, flushed with blood and arousal coursing through his veins.

Only then, when you invite his eager erection into your mouth, does he let his pleasure show in the form of a near-growled hum at the back of his throat. It’s that sound that rushes excitement straight between your legs; you couldn’t get more hard if you tried. You might burst the moment Zenos gets it in his head he should fill you again.

Speaking of, Zenos seemed to have been enjoying the show for long enough, staining the back of those panties with his freely leaking pre and making the fabric stick to your butt. With no warning other than the heat briefly disappearing behind you and the grip on your hips tightening, Zenos thrusts into you again.

With your lips touching the knot swelling the base of Day’s cock, your throat filled with his meat, any sound from your vocal cords is severely muffled. But, still; your sensitive walls split open, sparks struck in your nerves, you moan. You moan loud.

Day grunts, his hips jolting against your face as his fingers curl into a fist in your hair. His veins pulse against your tongue, an involuntary spurt of pre coating the back of your throat and filling your senses with his inhuman musk. You pull back just enough to seal your lips around the head, suckling on his tip like you can coax more lewd fluid arousal from him.

“Mm. I like this position,” Zenos comments. His hand smooths over your back and finds a firm cheek of your ass, spreading it just a bit. “Lets me see everything.”

His hips press in close, filling you in a way you’ve already been but that feels new and right every time. It’s deep, intimate thrusts, pushing his cock almost too far inside you, but your body accepts it every time.

“Ngh, this was a bad idea,” Day grunts. You look up to see his eyes closed, head tilted to the side. “Every time you thrust, he makes a sound and I feel it in my dick.”

“Too much for you?” Zenos asks teasingly over you, a conversation like you’re not even there.

“As if... Ah, fuck.”

Day cradles your head in his hands. Recognizing what’s about to come next, you do your best to open your jaw wide and relax your throat.

Just like that, his cock spears your throat with a quick thrust of his hips. Zenos in the back helps set the pace and soon you’re bouncing back and forth, two werewolf cocks sawing in and out of you at both ends like you’re just their chew toy.

Zenos leans forward to rest his hand against your clothed erection - not even wrapping his fingers around it, just letting his thrusts push your cock into his palm and letting the panties overstimulate your tip, the wet patch already formed creating a friction that has your eyes rolling back.

Day’s cock throbs against your tongue, salty, intoxicating pre filling your mouth and spilling down your chin in a mix of saliva even as you attempt to swallow. Your legs feel weak, your shaky fingers struggle for purchase on the front of Day’s jeans, to keep you steady. Just a rag doll, a fuck toy for wolves wrapped in a pretty red bow, your head swims. Moans rise muffled in the back of your mind, involuntarily, wholly lustful in the flush of pink on your skin all over.

So good, your body’s locked in a struggle to keep your sanity for these tense few moments. You think Zenos is saying something over your head, but all sound is drowned out by the swimming pleasure and sound of skin slapping skin. You catch glimpses of Day’s face and you swear you see annoyance for just a second.

Suddenly, his cock is yanked free of your massaging throat muscles. You gasp for air you’d been deprived as Day lets you go and Zenos’ arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest.

You let out a confused sound, but can’t form the words. “Just a little longer,” Zenos says in a husky whisper, breathing more ragged than before. “Just a bit. I’m close.”

As his rhythm speeds up, pelvis clapping against your ass, two of his fingers force themselves into your mouth, pressing into the soft, flat of your tongue and yanking your jaw down. You moan freely, the almost whorish sound now louder than ever, unburdened by the shaft once buried in your throat.

Speaking of Day, he’s not being left out of the action as he presses in close, his hand diving into your panties. Calloused fingers wrapping around your flushed, sensitive cock and soft, relentless lips against the column of your throat, you shake between the both of them, pleasure threading up your spine to stab through your cognizance.

Your inner walls spasm around Zenos’ shaft. You feel the growl in his chest against your back before your hear it right by your ear, the feral sound bleeding into a groan that has your knees going weak. Your body begs for more as you’re pushed faster and faster to the edge, eager, desperate even, for all the pleasure they can induce within you.

Zenos can barely gasp another warning before his hands fall to your hips to brand finger-shaped, wine-colored bruises into your skin as he yanks your ass back against him. His cock swells and you’re instantly flooded with the heat of his seed fired off inside you, painting your walls sticky white.

His bucking against you and Day’s hand twisting around your slippery cock, stimulation from both sides, you can’t take it anymore. You throw your head back, muscles seizing, as you’re plunged over the edge.

Your needy cock jumps in Day’s grip, dirtying his hand with the spill of your semen over his palm. A cry rises in your throat as you tremble in the strong grips of men completely enraptured by your body.

Almost as quickly as it started, it ends and you’re left empty when Zenos pulls his cock out with a slick sound. Finally reaching their limit, your legs give out and you slump to your knees, slipping free of their grasps.

You don’t get a moment to collect yourself before Day grips your hair again. Oh, right. You came, but you’re not done yet.

You flash Day a tired smile as he tilts your head back. His free hand wraps around his shaft, blatantly smearing the cum you coated his hand with on his cock. He says nothing, but the look in his eyes says everything. The way he looks down on you, like he couldn’t be more pleased by the sight of you on your knees, the flush of your cheeks, the loose way you just let him manipulate your body. He’s not an Alpha, but he is your Alpha. He and Zenos, both. Claiming you as their own; an ownership you’re glad to accept.

And now he’s standing powerfully over you, pumping his fist up and down his hard, hot cock and you know what he’s got in mind. But what he doesn’t know is what Zenos has got on his mind.

With no warning, the previously disappeared Zenos comes up behind Day, leans into his side, and slips his hand down to Day’s crotch.

“Ah!” Day jolts, but it’s not a displeased sound out of his mouth as Zenos’ fingers wrap around Day’s knot. Immediately his expression changes, his sensitivity exploited too much for his mask of stoicism to cover the failed stifling of his pleasure across his face.

Eager to work with Zenos, you muster the last of your strength and swoop in. Day’s balls churn with the need for his release as your lips meet his sack, your tongue curling out to lavish the full, heavy orbs in the worship they deserve. Day groans more openly than he ever has, his hips pushing forward, surely independent of his input.

“Ngh, you’re such a jerk,” Day grunts, but the lewdness coating his words takes the punch out of them.

Zenos presses a kiss to Day’s cheek. “We’re just eager to get you off,” you hear him whisper against Day’s cheek.

Pulling skin between your lips, the hickey you leave on his balls will fade quickly, but the trembling of his precious sensitivities is satisfying in itself.

Day swears loudly, Zenos’ expert fingers playing across his hypersensitive knot and your eager mouth between his legs just too much for him. Barely a second later, he’s cumming.

His voice breaks when it tries too hard to cry out the way it needs to convey his pleasure. It’s almost cute, but you know he’d hate it if you said that.

His knot swells in Zenos’ hand as his hips buck. A rope of cum fires off from his tip, but the rest just spills forth, no force to it, the inhuman volume just too much to do anything other than flow down his shaft. You feel it in your hair, your eyelashes, sliding down the bridge of your nose, catching on the corners of your mouth.

You don’t mind. If anything, it makes you part your lips, your tongue dragging up the underside of his spasming cock to catch every last drop of cum it has to give.

A trickle of blood slides down Day’s chin from the force with which he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

He finishes off by angling his dick down to dribble the last of his cum down your collarbone, letting it pool in your bra. You shiver at the feeling of your perky nipples rubbing against the now-soaked, lacy fabric with each movement. Willing yourself not to get hard again, for the sake of your poor overworked nerves, you sit back and smile sweetly up at your boys, mess that you are right now.

Leaving Day to deal with his sticky mess, Zenos circles around him to kneel beside you. He leans in, ignoring the cum still staining your skin like it’s nothing, and your lips meet almost chastely, a gentle, sweet kiss.

“You’re the best, bunny. I love you.” That smile could win over a million hearts, but here he is, smiling for you and you alone. Though it turns a little sheepish as he looks down, taking in the state of your brand new lingerie. “...Sorry about this. I hope they clean up alright.”

You shake your head. It’s what you bought the set for. You’re more than glad if they’ve both gotten some enjoyment out of it.

“You’re a right mess, though,” Zenos sighs, then another smile tugs at his lips. “Wanna take a bath with me?”

He chuckles at your eager nod, then looks to Day, who’s still standing there, softening cock still hanging free from his zipper, staring down at his hand. He meets your gazes, clearly contemplating something. Something Zenos catches easily.

“Day...” His tone is warning, expression just on the cusp of exasperation. “You know you have to clean up properly this time.”

Day clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes rolling away from the chastising Alpha. “I know.”

He probably wants to just tuck himself back in his pants and escape the syrupy sweet affection that comes after this kind of play, but not this time.

You’re lifted into Zenos’ arms with ease, comfortably cradled against his chest. As he turns to head to the bathroom, you catch Day’s gaze again. You smile at him, reaching your hand out.

He eyes the offering and it’s like you can physically see his resolve cracking. Finally, he slips his hand into yours, flashing what only you know is a smile, just for you.

Dating two werewolves at the same time is sometimes exhausting, sometimes irritating, sometimes awfully sticky. But you can’t imagine having it any other way.

[submissivekpop]

tease; ten

Requested: yes Words: 1300+  Warnings: pwp, smut, sub!ten, dom!reader, handjobs, oral (male receiving), mentions of anal play, mommy kink, teasing, choking, handcuffs A/N: not as fluffy as I planned it to be, but I hope you like it anyways ^-^

«Mommy, please.»

Your fingers lightly caress his thighs, goosebumps following wherever you touch, drawing imaginary patterns on his sensitive skin.

«Behave, love» you coo, as he squirms under your touch. «Behave and I'll reward you.»

He whimpers as your fingers graze over his crotch, his clothed member twitching inside his boxers, as you relentlessly tease him.

«I-I can't... p-please.»

He looks so pretty when he begs, you think, and a part of you would really like to give into him immediately, but you know that the longer you tease him, the better he'll feel once you'll finally give him what he wants. With that thought in mind, you keep on gently caressing him, your fingers moving along his entire body, watching as he squirms and whimpers, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, as he tries to hold back his moans. So sensitive.

As you run your nails over his sides, he gasps, pulling at the restraints as he raises his head, his eyes fixated on you – that piercing gaze that never fails to send shivers down your spine.

«F-Fuck!»

«Uh-uh, what did I say about cursing?» you question, his eyes wide as he realizes that, maybe, he shouldn't have said that.

«Sorry, mommy» he says, flashing you a lovely smile. «I won't do it again.»

Humming in content, you go back to your teasing. Your fingers move across his arms – bound to the headboard, right above his head – lightly scratching him as you do so, before stopping on his neck. Your fingertips meet his silky skin, your thumb stopping right where you can feel his artery pulsing, pressing on it a little, as his mouth forms an “O” shape.

«Should I, love?» you ask, rhetorically. «Should I choke you a bit, hmm?»

As you expected, he nods, eagerly waiting for you to do so. As soon as you put some pressure on his neck, he lets out a loud moan – exaggerated, maybe, but you couldn't care less: he's loving it, and that's all that matters to you.

«What a good boy» you murmur, squeezing a bit tighter.

He blushes at the praise, raising his hips and hoping you'd understand what he's silently begging for.

«Want mommy to take care of you?» you coo, your fingers lightly grazing over his clothed member.

Once again, he nods, biting his bottom lip as he tries to hold back his moans.

«What about the plug? Should we let it in?»

«Y-Yes, please.»

Humming, you remove your hand from his neck. Motioning for him to raise his hips, you take off his boxers, allowing his member to spring free, resting against his abdomen, the tip red and swollen. Poor boy, you've teased him for too long. It started in the morning, when you decided he'd have to wear a vibrating plug for the day – mostly because you wanted him to punish him for misbehaving the night before and, maybe, you were hoping for him to misbehave once again, so that you'd have the chance to properly punish him. Apart from some whimpering whenever he moved in a certain way, he behaved, and that surely wasn't what you planned. In order to tease him a bit more, you went out for lunch with a couple of friends, just so that you could palm him under the table, hoping he'd do anything that would allow you to go back home and have your way with him. Disappointed that it didn't work, you tied him to the headboard as soon as you got back home, with little or no resistance from him. There, you teased him for what seemed like hours, kissing and nibbling at his skin, sucking purple spots wherever you wanted, eliciting moans and whimpers from him. Things didn't go according to plans, though, as he took your teasing extremely well, and that most certainly deserves a reward. Your punishment can wait, you'll have plenty of chances to do it.

«Hand or mouth, love?»

«A-Anything is f-fine, mommy» he says, looking up at you as your fingers slowly move on his thighs, getting closer and closer to where he needs them the most. «B-But no teasing, please.»

That's what sets you off. As soon as he speaks, you wrap your hand around his shaft, slowly moving it and trying not to hurt him considering the fact that you're not using lube on him. The moans he lets out as you slowly jerk him off are music to your hears, heavenly sounds that only you are allowed to hear. It's your baby boy the one that's making them, after all.

«Do you like it, baby?» you ask, and he eagerly nods.

«F-Feels so g-good» he stutters, biting his lip so hard that you're worried it might start to bleed.

Hearing his words, you fasten your pace, using his own precum as lube and hoping it'll be enough to heighten sensations. Then, once you notice how desperately he's trying to buck his hips up, trying to meet your hand and, maybe, have you increase your pace once again, you remove your hand, causing him to whine in frustration.

«W-Why?» he cries. «I-It was s-so good.»

«I know, love, I know» you coo, moving on the mattress so that you're now sitting between his spread legs. «But I have something even better for you.»

Before he can even process your words, you lean over him, taking his tip right between your lips, giving it few licks before gently sucking on it, your eyes fixated on him as he sharply inhales, a loud moan escaping his lips soon after. The more you take him into your mouth, the louder he moans, to the point that you have to stop to remind him that you don't really want to receive any complaints from your neighbours, to which he blushes profusely, a timid smile painted on his face as he promises he'll be careful not to be too loud.

«I-I'm not going to last long» he warns you, wishing you'd grant him permission to cum without having to beg as much as he usually does.

Considering how good he's been, you don't really feel like denying him much longer. When he does ask permission to cum out loud, you don't even have to think about it before answering him. Taking your mouth off of him, you nod, your hand working relentlessly to bring him closer and closer to the edge, until you can see him shake under you, his whole body trembling as a white substance drips over your hand – some landing on his chest as well, marking him in the way you wish you could – an endless string of “thank you”s and moans of your name coming from his lips as you allow him to ride out his orgasm. Then, once you're sure he's done, you take your hand away, cleaning it on the sheets – luckily, you did plan to change them today – before untying him and, after getting off of the bed, grabbing a couple of warm, wet cloths to clean him up.

«Are you okay?» you murmur as you gently use the cloth to clean up his chest, removing his own semen from his skin.

He hums in agreement, lazily using the other cloth to clean up the sweat from his face and neck, not actually bothering to raise his head from the pillow.

«I'm sorry for putting you through all of this» you say, shyly apologizing for all the teasing he had to suffer for your own pleasure. «I wasn't expecting you to take it so well, though.»

«Hmm? You expected me to be... a brat?» he says, pretending to be outraged by your words. «I'm offended.»

Laughing, you lay on the bed next to him, your arms surrounding him as he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck.

«We both know you like that more than anything» you joke, gently caressing his hair.

You don't need to see him to know that he's smiling, you can tell he is by the way he tries to hide even more in the crook of your neck.

«Maybe I do» he mutters, and, for once, you have to agree with him.

Maybe, though, maybe you like it as well.

Love it, actually.

Feedback is always appreciated!

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Ride or Die ch.15 -Dead End

Colt's POV of chapter 15, when MC crashed her car

Colt x MC (Ellie)

Words: 3557

Warnings: NSFW

This was requested by @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction 

Colt had spent all day looking for Toby and Ximena, finally finding them and filling them in on what’s been happening. He told them about the plan Ellie came up with, capturing the Brotherhood on video.

“I’m hoping they’ll be too distracted by my attempting to catch them on camera that they won’t even notice there are others. “I bought a burner phone specifically for this, so it really doesn’t matter if anything happens to it.”

“Wow, that…could actually work.” Toby told him

A flash of pride rippled through Colt. That’s because my girl is smart.

  After telling them what they need to do, where they need to be, and at what time, they parted ways. I hope Ellie’s right and they pull through.

Colt rode his bike to a random small house in South Central, roaring into the quiet neighborhood, parking behind Ellie’s pink car.

Pink. She had to have pink. So noticeable, so girly girl, so…Ellie.

He gets off his bike and saunters over to where Ellie is standing with Logan. Fucking Logan.

“Is it done?” She asked

Cold nodded. “Green light. We’re just waiting for a call sometime tonight.”

“You’re sure?” Logan had his eyes narrowed, looking at Colt accusingly.

Anger bubbled up inside him. “Yes, I’m sure, you…”

“Guys, we’re on the same side, remember?” Ellie cut in, glaring at the both.

Colt sighed, running a hand through his hair. Fine.

Logan looked at her apologetically. “Let’s just get inside.”

Colt takes Ellie’s hand and holds her back as Logan walks ahead. “Hey, look…I stopped by the old garage earlier, to try to find some things. Anything, really, to remind me of my family’s legacy. And I found this. I guess my pop kept it from my first car. He had it in his desk. And now, well, no place for it on my bike, so…I figure you might as well have it, if you want.”

He hesitantly holds out a little cactus bobble head, complete with a mustache and sombrero. Please don’t laugh. I know it’s lame. I was a kid when I got it and thought it was cool. Something prickly just like me.

“Colt…thank you.” She smiled warmly at him, and butterflies erupted in his stomach.

He shrugged casually. “It’s nothing. Just a trinket, but…maybe it’ll bring you some luck.”

Taking her hand again, they follow Logan up to the door. He knocked, and a moment later the door swings open to reveal some food truck guy Colt had seen around every now and then.

“Logan! It’s been a minute, cuz.” He steps forward to give Logan a hug but stops short when he sees his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we lay low out here for the day?” Logan asked.

“Course. Come in.”

The guy leads them inside. He takes in Ellie’s prom dress. “You wanna tell me what’s goin on?”

Mother fucker better not be checking her out ever again. I’ll forgive the dress, because it’s odd she’s still in it, but next time…

“The less you know, the better.” Logan informed.

“You at least gonna tell me who this dude is?” He points to Colt, and he fists his hands, agitated. Seriously?

“That’s Kaneko’s kid. And you remember Ellie.”

Kaneko’s kid?? I have a name!!!

“Colt.” He said flatly.

“Hey, Vaughn. Sorry for intruding.” Ellie shot him a Look, and he shrugged slightly. Whatever, it’s my name.

“Nah, it’s cool. Get comfy, change outta those threads…”

“Thanks. We’ve got some planning to do.”

“Well, hang on just one second. You can stay here, but I need something in return.”

Naturally

Logan’s face fell. “You do?”

Vaughn turns away, walking to the kitchen counter. “You might be my cousin, but nothing in life is free. You gotta do me a favor.”

“What?” Logan asked hesitantly.

“You gotta taste test my new dishes for my truck.” He turns back around with a tray of fresh, eclectic street food.

Logan grinned. “I think we can manage that just fine…”

Colt’s mouth immediately started watering, and as they discussed their plan, they scarfed down amazing food.

Hours later, the sun sets outside, and the showdown with the Brotherhood draws nearer. After planning every last detail of the night, the four of them are passing time half-watching TV in Vaughn’s living room.

Ellie keeps looking at the clock. Logan nudges her. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

Colt slid his eyes over to her. She looks just as nervous as I feel. I need an outlet. We both do.

Ellie gave a half smile. “I know, I just…I feel like I need to do something now. Get all this anxious energy out so it doesn’t distract me later.”

“I know how you feel.” Colt clenches and unclenches his fist, over and over and over again.

“You can lie down in my spare room for a bit, Ellie.” Vaughn offered.

Right. Mr. Nice Guy. No wonder Logan brought us here.

“Thanks, Vaughn. I think that’ll help.”

“We’ll get you when it’s time.” Logan assured.

She nods, the heads toward the hall, she pauses in the doorway, looking back at them. Colt catches her eye from across the room.

Come on, Ellie, bring me with you, I know exactly how to get out all our frustrations.

“Colt, could I talk to you for a minute?” She asked.

Yesssss. Shove it, Logan. She wants to fuck me, not you. I win.

Colt shrugs, not showing his excitement, and follows her down the hall to the bedroom. He closes the door behind them, then leans against it casually. “Did you actually want to talk, or…?”

“No.” Ellie wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a passionate kiss. He pulls back to smirk. “Not even dirty talk?”

“Colt!” She slaps his shoulder playfully, but then he captures her mouth with his. Their embrace is heated, insistent. He walks her back toward the bed, his hands running all over her body, under her clothes…

“Colt…”

He can feel his kisses make her dizzy, his touch alone sets her on fire. Something tells him they’re both barely on the edge of control.

This feeling…what is this feeling….it feels like…I can’t control myself around this woman, I need to consume her. She’s mine and I’m hers and this is forever.

“Ellie, what’re you doing to me?”

“Hopefully making you feel really, really good.”

He groans into her mouth, pulling her flush against his hard body. “Yes…Can you feel how good you make me feel?”

He thrusts his hips into her, letting her feel how hard he is. He wants to plunge his cock inside her. His lips travel down her neck, nipping and licking at her exposed skin. His hands slide under her sweatshirt, and she arches into him.

“Colt…take it off” She says breathlessly.

As you wish. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He quickly pulls her sweatshirt over her head, then unbuttons her jeans and pushes them down her hips, and she quickly shakes them off. He pulls her back into his arms, her bare skin rubbing against his still-clothed body.

“Not…fair…” She moans as he caresses every inch of her exposed skin.

He licked his lips, unable to stop the smile appearing on his lips. “If you want me outta my clothes, all you gotta do is ask.”

She tugs on his leather jacket, pulling it off one shoulder. “Off. Now.”

Colt pulls back to take off his clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the room. “Better?”

“Much.”

The two of them settle back on the bed together. He pulls her in for another searing kiss, his body flush against hers. He squeezes her ass and knows exactly how he wants her.

“Don’t stop” She begged.

“Wasn’t planning to. Come here.” He nudges her onto all fours, facing away from him. He kisses her spine, making her shiver

“Colt stop teasing…”

“But I love when you moan my name.”  And now you’re gonna fucking scream it.

He glides his hands down to her hips with a featherlight touch, a whimper escaping her mouth, then guides himself into her tight, wet slit. He grunted as he began to thrust in and out of her, his need for her consuming them both as she puts a hand on the headboard to steady herself as he moves faster and faster.

“Colt..oh, god…”

So fucking tight. So fucking perfect, This body…I love this body, she feels so good wrapped around my dick. Where the fuck has she been my whole life?

He can no longer contain himself. He swivels his hips just so, pulling on her hair so she leans more backwards and together they fall apart. He shot his hot sperm into her as her sweet pussy drank it up, milking him completely. The two of them collapse on the bed together, a tangle of sweaty limbs.

She snuggled into his arms and he kissed the top of her head gently. After a few minutes, they caught their breaths.

“We’re gonna have to do this soon, aren’t we?” She whispered into his chest.

Colt runs his hands up and down her arm in a soothing pattern. “Whatever the Brotherhood throws at us, we’re ready.”

She flips over to face him. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

He runs his thumb over her cheek, gazing deep into her eyes. “Only if you promise me the same thing.”

I know you. You’re just like me. Both of us do what needs to be done.

She sighed. “…This whole plan is kinda stupid, isn’t it?”

He kisses her forehead. “Maybe, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

Logan knocks. “We got the call. We’re in. It’s go time.”

Colt kisses her one last time before getting up and pulling on his clothes. “I’ll let you get ready.” She just nods, and he leaves the room.

Joining Logan and Vaughn in the living room, both men were giving him death stares. Alright. Guess Logan told Vaughn I stole her away from him. Which I did, so…fuck off losers.

Steps sound in the hallway and they all look up to see her.

“Oh, damn.” Vaughn’s eyes were wide.

“I’m ready.” She announced.

“You sure look like it. Logan’s jaw was practically on the floor.

Colt eyes her ravenously, soaking in her appearance. He really likes the red leather coat. “I already feel better about our chances.” You look bangin’.

Logan tosses her her keys and she catches them out of the air. “Let’s go.” She pulls out her phone, powering it on for the first time in a while…and dial a number. She presses speakerphone, so they can all hear.

“9-1-1 emergency, what is your location?”

“My name is Ellie Wheeler. I want to turn myself in.” There’s silence on the other end for a moment.

“Alright, what is your location Miss Wheeler? We’ll send someone to come pick you up.”

“There’s only one person I’ll speak to. Detective Wheeler. Have him meet me at the Pacific Division station. I’ll be there soon.”

“Miss, if there’s…”

She hangs up the phone. “Clock’s running.”

They all walk outside to where her car is parked at the curb.

Logan grabs her hands. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to let me go in your place?”

She shook her head. “No. It has to be me.”

Logan’s shoulders slump a little. “I know…but a guy can hope. Just…if anything goes wrong, Ellie, look out for yourself. Run.”

Colt watches from a short distance, arms tensely folded. He just gives her a nod when she looks his way. Yes. Run, and I’ll find you to live out our lives. I promise, Ellie.

“Well. See you on the other side.” She gets into her car, shutting the door. Colt sees her put his old cactus on her dash and his heart feels like it’s going to explode of happiness…until she turns the engine on and drives out into the moonless night up the 405 toward Mar Vista.

His heart sinks as he climbs on his bike and heads for his location. Hardly any time passed when his earpiece went off, Ellie’s voice coming through.

“Logan? Colt? We’ve hooked them. They’re coming up fast in the cars we stole for them off the hauler truck.”

Logan’s voice sounds through next. “Already? Damn, they’re quicker than we thought.”

Colt narrows his eyes in frustration. “It’s too early! They’re gonna catch you before you get to the target! Step on it!”

“They’re almost on me!”

“You’re still a ways out. Hang on. I’ll be there as soon as I can!” Logan shouts into his Bluetooth.

Right. Knight in shining fucking armor. Ugh.

“Hurry up, Logan.” He spat out. “You better not let anything happen to her.”

“I got it, Colt.”

As Colt reaches his destination, he sees her rocket forward, the two cars that were at her side crashing into each other and sending debris flying.

Oh my god…my pop…he trusted her with a NOS system?? He taught her how to use it?? His heart ached at the realization of exactly how much his father cared for her and looked out for her…all because his son did.

Thanks pop. I had no idea. Thank you for keeping her safe.

She dodges another car back and forth across the lanes, barely staying out of reach.

“You’re almost there, Ellie!” He shouts into his speaker.

Come on, come on, you’re gonna make it! Just a couple more miles!

Colt whips out his burner phone and sets it up to record. He hears bare metal and looks back up, gasping. He felt like he was watching everything unfold in slow motion.

Ellie’s car stalls as her tire blows out, sending sparks flying against the pavement. Another car slams into her, sending her spinning.

“Ellie! Can you hear me? I’ll be there in a few seconds! One last go for old times’ sake?” Logan pleaded.

“One last go” It was barely a whisper, but Colt still heard it.

Ellie dodges hard to the side as Logan turns on his high beams directly in front of the Brotherhood cars.

“Ellie, go! I’ll catch up!”

“Hurry! You’re at the off-ramp!” Colt added.

She steps on the gas. “I’m almost there! I can make it…”

One of the cars in pursuit flies ahead of her and skids to a stop, blocking the exit ramp.

His heart began pounding erratically. This is looking…familiar.

Flashes of his father speeding towards the barricade and crashing his car to save the crew, to save him, swam through his head. He felt sick. She’s doing the same thing. Oh my god, please no.  

“Dammit! Okay, just stay on the freeway, Ellie!” He could hear his voice but it didn’t sound like his own. It sounded a bit higher, panicked…fearful.

“Colt, I have to get there! If I don’t, all of this was for nothing…” She argued

Colt shook his head violently, his breaths coming faster and his head starting to spin.  “There’s gotta be another way.”

“No. This is where I get off.” She said, fury and determination evident in her tone

She floors it straight towards the stopped car, while Colt fell to his knees, bile rising in his throat, shock overtaking him. No, no, no…NO!!!!! NOT AGAIN!!!! THIS CAN’T HAPPEN TO ME AGAIN!!!!

He screamed, yet there was no sound. He didn’t feel attached to his body anymore. He was with his father, whom he didn’t even think loved him and yet gave his life to keep him safe. He was with Ellie, whom he had found love himself and loved him back…and was about to give her life to keep him safe. And he was completely helpless to stop either one of them. For the very first time in his life, he was terrified of losing someone he loves. He never had to think about it before his father died.

Like a missile, she crashes into the car, knocking it aside.

“Ellie!” Logan cried.

Her airbag deploys as gravity abandons her. She goes airborne off the ramp, spinning like a top. She slams down on the pavement of a wide, empty lot fifteen feet down. Colt could practically feel the metal crumpling and denting, unable to handle the impact. Her momentum sends her rolling several times until finally coming to a rest on the car’s roof.

Colt gaped at the heavily damaged car, the glass broken and scattered in all directions.

Oh my god, Ellie, what did you do?? You can’t…I don’t believe…you have to be okay. You’re all I’ve got left

Slowly he realized he was shaking uncontrollably, the phone in his hands had already dropped to the ground, his face the only thing on the screen. He became vaguely aware of Logan’s voice in his ear.

“Ellie! Ellie, can you hear me?”

A weak cough responded. “yeah…I made it to the target”

Oh my god, she’s alive. She made it. She FUCKING MADE IT!!!! MY GIRL MADE IT!!!!

“That was absolutely insane!” He finally found his voice. SHE FUCKING MADE IT!!! SHE’S ALIVE!!!

“Colt, are you in position?”

Taking several deep breaths to slow his still racing heart, he answered. “Ready and waiting by the transformer box. They’re coming up on you now.”

“Okay…*cough*…make sure to get their faces on camera.”

But she sounds so weak. She must be hurt. No has that kind of accident without getting hurt. Not even someone as crazy as her.

Headlights approach and the cars stop, doors opening, masked figures approaching the destroyed car. One of them offers her a hand helps her crawl through the shattered glass.

Jason.

Jason’s helping her to her feet when Logan approaches. Jason draws a gun, putting the muzzle to Ellie’s temple just as Logan comes around the bend. He slams on the brakes, skidding to a stop ten feet away, bathing them in his headlights. Jason’s form casts a long shadow across the lot.

She survived the crash just to take a bullet to the head? I don’t think so. We’ve come too far. Time to end this. Without thinking, Colt started marching forward, ready to kill the Brotherhood. He’s blind with rage, not seeing the woman deftly approaching him.

“Nice phone.” She snarled, snatching it away and wrenching his arms behind his back in a hold.

“Thanks. It’s insured.” He snapped back. FUCK!!!

A walkie-talkie crackled at the woman’s side.

“Hester, it’s Shaw. You find Kaneko’s kid?”

“Bringing him in now.” The lady spoke back.

“I have a fucking name, and it’s not ‘Kaneko’s kid’.” Everyone calling me Kaneko’s kid. I’m not my father, and I never will be.

Crossing the lot, Hester pushes Colt along at gunpoint. “I really don’t care.” She replied, sounding bored. She calls out to Jason. “Caught him over there trying to film us on this.” She tosses Colt’s phone onto the ground and shoots it. It shatters and sparks.

“Trying to get us on tape, huh? Get us locked up? Oh, so close.” Jason teased menacingly.

 “Good thing we wore masks. You would’ve had nothing, anyway.” The Brotherhood then peel off their masks.

“But how…did you know?” Ellie asked, her voice feigning disbelief.

Jason smirked, shaking his head. “Ellie…come on…we tapped your phone. Duh. We’re the goddamn police. I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.” He laughed.

“We heard you call 911…we heard you tell Kaneko’s kid what to do, where to be.”

“Colt!” He couldn’t stop himself, the words just slipped out angrily.

Jason rolls his eyes and steps closer to Ellie, the barrel of his gun just inches away from her head. “It’s actually kind of tragic. I thought you would’ve made a good cop, Ellie…but I was wrong. A cop always needs to think one step ahead. And now…now your dad will never know what happened to you.” He aims the gun at her, his face neutral.

“You said you didn’t want to hurt her.”

Mona. Traitor. Never trusted her.

Jason frowned. “I didn’t. But she didn’t learn her lesson. You should know, Ellie, I take no pleasure in this. We really were never that different.”

A slow smile spread on Ellie’s face. “Oh, really? I think we are.”

“How’s that?”

“The difference between you and me? Well, for one, I’m not the dumbass who just walked right into a trap.”

She really is going to be okay. There’s that snarky tone I love so much. Colt let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“What is she talking about?” Wallace asks nervously.

Jason looks around, anxiousness spreading on his face. He looks far across the lot…to the façade of Mar Vista High, and the dozens of CCTV cameras on the streetlamps.

“Say cheese, asshole.” Logan grinned.

Jason’s eyes went wide. “No…”

Gotcha   “Go ahead. Wave to Toby and Ximena.”

Inside the school’s AV club, Ximena grins, her voice ringing loud and clear in the parking lot. “We got ‘em”

“In crystal clear high definition.” Toby agreed.

“Shaw…what just happened?” Hester’s voice raised a few octaves.

“I…”

“Always gotta stay one step ahead, isn’t that right, Jason?” Ellie asked sweetly, winking at Colt. He smiled at her before directing his gaze back at Jason and the other two members of the brotherhood.

That’s right asshole. No one messes with my crew.

  @annekebbphotography @gardeningourmet @zigortega4life @eileendannie @thequeenofcronuts @drakewalkerfantasy @friedherringclodthing @coffeebeandragon @drakewalker04 @alesana45 @mfackenthal

@i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

@rhymesmenagerie

[our-smooty]

You Make Me Want You

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2AceDoc

Tags: Double Penetration, 2doc, acedoc, 2dace, begging, praise kink, multiple orgasms, trans male character, trans murdoc niccals

Summary: There was something in the way they hovered over each other and him time that spoke of hidden closeness. Murdoc caught both of them staring at him when they thought he wasn’t looking, or when he was talking to Russel and Noodle. They were hilariously obvious, but Murdoc didn’t mind. In fact, he made sure to put a little extra swagger in his step, just for them to enjoy.

The second Murdoc walked through the door of Spirit House and noticed the way 2D and Ace were standing so close he knew there was going to be trouble. And not the bad kind of trouble, he hoped, but the kind that would leave him aching and sated for days.

There was something in the way they hovered over each other and him time that spoke of hidden closeness. Murdoc caught both of them staring at him when they thought he wasn’t looking, or when he was talking to Russel and Noodle. They were hilariously obvious, but Murdoc didn’t mind. In fact, he made sure to put a little extra swagger in his step, just for them to enjoy.

He excused himself from the party early in the night, claiming exhaustion. Noodle and Russel waved him off, too busy with their game of Monopoly to argue. 2D and Ace had been chatting over beers on the living room sofa, though they went quiet as Murdoc went past and sauntered up the stairs. He could feel their stares like heat over his back.

His room was essentially how he left it. Murdoc allowed himself to savour the feeling of being alone for the first time in months. Had the Spirit House always been this… peaceful? He took a deep breath in, then exhaled in a cathartic sigh. It was good to be home.

He wasn’t alone for long though. Not ten minutes after he’d closed the door, and five after he’d changed into something more comfortable, there was a knock against the door. Well well, it looked like at least one of them had the guts to follow him. Murdoc opened the door slowly, grin on his face widening as he saw both men.

“Hello lads, what can I do for you?” he asked, eyeing them both up and down. Ace was in front and beamed at the other bassist, while 2D stood behind him, smiling nervously.

“Hey Doc!” Ace chirped, flashing him an easy grin. “D and I wanted to come up and say welcome back again before you went to bed.”

2D bobbed in his in agreement. “Y-yeah! I'm glad you're back Muds!”

“Aww, well thank you. D’you wanna come in for a bit?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know exactly why they were there. He stepped to the side and allowed them to pass, leering not-so-inconspicuously at 2D’s arse as he walked by.

“Looks the same in here,” 2D commented, stepping over the junk on the floor. Murdoc shrugged and sat on the edge of his bed, letting the other two poke around as they wished. Ace was the first to turn around and face him, a mischevious glint in his eye.

“You live in a pigsty Doc.”

“Life’s too short for cleaning, Acey dear,” Murdoc drawled. He’d taken to leaning back on the bed, legs spread and arms relaxed, the picture of casualness. Ace’s eyes lingered a moment on his crotch and Murdoc snickered. “So, you two gonna tell me why you’re really here, or are we jus’ gonna keep dancin’ around it like idiots?”

2D blushed while Ace shrugged. “Well, we figured you were gone an awfully long time, Boss,” he started, sidling up to the bed. “And maybe you’d be wanting a little…” He made a crude jerking-off gesture and 2D tittered.

“Y-yeah! I-if you wanna, that is.” Murdoc’s grin couldn’t get any wider. It had been a while since he and 2D had messed around, and even longer since he and Ace had fucked. He’d never had both of them at the same time, not that he hadn’t thought about it.

“I don’t know,” he said, still smiling. “I’m pretty tired…”

2D looked confused, but Ace picked up what he was putting down. “Don’t worry, Doc, we’ll do all the hard work. You just have to sit back and look good, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you better put your money where your mouth is, Copular.” With the older bassists consent, Ace moved closer, looking over Murdoc from the bedside. The Satanist felt his pulse spike at the way the other looked his lips; it really had been too long.

Ace leaned down and places an almost chaste kiss on the side of Murdoc's mouth before winding a hand through his hair and yanking him forward. Murdoc yelped in surprise, catching 2D’s apprehensive look.

“Aw come on Muds, I know you like it rough,” Ace teased, now straddling his hips. “Stu was tellin’ me you never let him top. Why’s that? He’s good at it you know.”

Murdoc moaned a little at the pressure on his lap, making eye contact with the singer over Ace’s shoulder. The younger bassist kept talking in his ear, low and teasing as 2D toed off his socks and sat in front of him. “Wouldn’t you like that, Doc? Wouldn’t you like to be taken care of?”

“I-I’d like that,” 2D said, gaining confidence from the way Ace was taking charge. “I wanna make you feel good, Muds.”

And oh, who was he to argue with such sweet promises? With a tilt of his head and an easy smile, he beckoned the singe and bassist closer.

“Well, you’re welcome to try,” he drawled. Ace snickered beside him and took the opening to latch onto the sensitive skin of his throat. Murdoc hissed sharply, then trailed off into a moan. He almost missed the hungry look on Stu’s face as he watched them. “Come’on then D, join us.”

The singer sprang into action, pressing the length of his body against Murdoc’s. His bony frame felt familiar--this wasn’t the first time they’d fallen into bed together so it should--and oh so good. It wasn’t long before 2D’s large hands were roaming over the bassist's frame, sneaking under clothes and caressing long-neglected sensitive spots. The closeness of both of them was enough to make Murdoc’s head spin.

The two of them easily got Murdoc to the point of moaning and squirming. Ace’s teeth were wicked sharp against his neck, and Stu’s hands were burning against his skin, pulling him to face him. After a few minutes, Murdoc could do nothing but writhe in pleasure between them, at the younger men’s complete mercy.

“You sound good, Murdoc,” Ace murmured against his skin, breath hot. “You been thinkin’ about this while you were locked up?”

Murdoc keened, his hips bucking against Ace’s. 2D chuckled and teased a hand down to the fly of his pants, pressing lightly. “He always liked talkin’ about all the orgies he’s gone too. Liked to make it sound like he ruled the roost.”

“But we know better, don’t we, Doc?” Ace teased, one of his hands mirroring 2D’s and pawing his crotch from behind. “You love bein’ dominated, filled up, fucked hard.”

“Yes…” Murdoc hissed, not knowing which hand to buck into. The sweatpants he was wearing were thin, and he could feel their fingertips against his pussy, but only just.

“How’d you like it if we did that for you, Murdoc?” Ace asked as his hand began to dip under his waistband. “Don’t you want me and D to stuff you full, make you feel it?”

Murdoc’s head thrashed and his back arched. “Yes, fuck yes. I want--” He was cut off by his own gasp as both 2D and Ace reached his core, fingers prodding and not quite touching where he needed.

“He’s so wet Ace,” 2D moaned, letting his clever fingers trace feather-light patterns over the bassist’s erect clit. Ace hummed in agreement, letting his digits dip in and out of Murdoc’s hole.

“He really is. You’re so ready, babe.” Murdoc nodded frantically, trying to get closer to both men at the same time and failing miserably. “And you’re usually such a fan of foreplay.”

Murdoc groaned again. “I swear to Satan if y-you two don’t fuck me soon…” Ace plunged his fingers inside, making Murdoc shout. Stu muffled his noises with a wet kiss.

“Impatient. So, D, how’d you want to do this?” Ace sounded impossibly casual as he pumped his fingers in and out of the older man despite the hardness in his pants.

“Uh, I dunno Ace,” 2D mumbled between kisses, moving his tongue in sync with his fingers. Ace chuckled and pulled away for a moment, fiddling around with a packet of lube.

“Well, no sense rearangin’ everythin’,” he said before returning his fingers to Murdoc, but higher this time. A now-slick finger traced over the sensitive muscle just as 2D’s fingers slipped inside his cunt. “We’ll do it just like this, I’m sure he’ll love that.”

Murdoc was shaking with excitement. When Ace went to push a finger into his arse, he wrapped one leg around 2D’s hips, giving them both more room to work. The singer’s hips began to rock forward against Murdoc, the bulge in Stu’s pants rubbing against his thigh. He quickly got frustrated, finally pulling away from Murdoc to shimmy his pants and underwear down, exposing his leaking cock.

“Oh--oh please Stu,” Murdoc moaned at the sight, doing his best to stay relaxed for Ace, but wanting to scream. “Please fuck me.”

For a second he thought 2D might give in and he’d finally get some relief, but Ace was quicker. “Not yet, Stu. Give me a few minutes, yeah?” He was easing a second finger in beside the first one now. The slight burn made Murdoc’s core clench in anticipation.

“Sorry Murdoc,” 2D said with a slight smile. “Guess you’ll have to wait.” He took himself in hand and began teasing his tip against the bassists pussy from top to bottom, drawing long groans from the older man. Ace hummed in approval, scissoring his fingers, then adding another. Murdoc sobbed.

“Shhh, Doc, don’t worry. We’re nearly there,” Ace soothed, giving a few more thrusts before removing his fingers all together. Murdoc could feel the head of Ace’s dick pressing against his arse, and 2D’s pressing against his cunt and it was all too much.

His panting was the loudest sound in the room. “Please--Please!” Murdoc cried hoarsely. There was no way he could take any more of this teasing, he was ready. So ready.

Ace grinned madly at his begging, but 2D was softer and took pity. “Alrigh’ Muds, calm down luv.”

But Murdoc was beyond the point of calming down. “N-no! Need it--please.”

Stu looked over the oldest bassist’s shoulder to Ace with a wide-eyed stare. “Don’t tease him anymore, Ace.”

“Poor thing, alright, alright,” Ace cooed as he lined up and began to push inside. Murdoc groaned deeply and clung to 2D’s biceps, nails digging into soft skin. Stu hissed in pain, but also began to thrust into Murdoc. The feeling of being stretched and filled completely was everything to the Satanist.

“O-oh--I-I-I’m--” It was too much already, too much. Before either man had bottomed out Murdoc was cumming. Both Ace and 2D gasped at the tight convulsions and soft keens of the bassist's pleas.

“Shit, Doc, did you just cum?” Ace asked, breathless. Murdoc nodded tiredly, resting his head against the singer’s shoulder. 2D was huffing now as well, the warm wetness and tight heat heavenly around his cock.

“Are you ok to keep goin’?” he asked quietly. Satan 2D was always so nice, so considerate. Murdoc didn’t want any of that right then though.

“Fuck me now, you idiots,” he growled, clenching his kegel muscles to make both men moan. They didn’t need telling twice, quickly setting a brutal pace, pounding the smaller man back and forth between them. Like a rag doll in the wind, Murdoc let himself be completely controlled by the force, not even bothering to move his hips. All he could do was hold on and try to muffle his moans and sobs into 2D’s neck.

“S’it feel good, Muds?” 2D moaned, his hips moving mechanically. Normally when Murdoc slept with the singer, he was the one in control, either fucking him with the strap-on or tying him down and riding the younger. This was the first time he’d let 2D have any control, and so far, he wasn’t disappointed. 2D didn’t brag about it much, but his cock was big. Maybe the biggest Murdoc had ever taken. He loved to truss the singer up and ride him into the mattress until he screamed.

Ace, on the other hand, had always been one to take charge in the bedroom. Back when they’d both been younger and a little more adventurous, Murdoc had enjoyed the pleasures of being dommed and controlled. Ace fit that bill exactly, nice cock, sexy body, and a wild streak that went on for days. More than once the two bassists had locked themselves away and spent extended amounts of time getting to know each other better.

“Oh God, I can’t, Oh shit--!” Murdoc answered, throwing his head back and resting it on Ace’s chest. The younger bassist took the chance to lean in, capturing Murdoc’s lips in a teeth-filled kiss.

The wet sounds coming from their movements were downright filthy. Murdoc could feel every inch of their dicks inside him, filling him to capacity in a way he hadn’t felt in far too long. The way Ace was kissing him, all teeth and no softness, matched with the way 2D held him, all comfort and care. They kept him near the edge, but just barely.

“You can do it, I know you can” 2D murmured, eyes downcast and watching his length disappear again and again inside the bassist. Murdoc moaned at the encouragement, breaking away from Ace to catch his breath.

“I know you can, Doc,” Ace agreed, picking up speed and switching to gnawing at the other’s neck. He clenched his teeth to stop a moan as Murdoc squeezed tighter in response. “Oh Murdoc you feel so good, such a good boy letting me and D fuck you.”

The pressure of another orgasm was building up in his groin, making him shake and sob with each thrust. Neither man fucking him stopped. One of 2D’s hands came down to palm over hit clit, hard and just the way Murdoc liked it. The Satanist tried to think about anything other than the extraordinary pleasure being dolled out to him to stave off his coming orgasm, but it was nearly impossible. His mind was consumed totally by the other two.

“I-I--I’m cumming--!” Murdoc screamed, hips tensing and toes clenching. This time, Stu and Ace kept moving, though the had to slow down to accommodate the convulsions of his muscles. Cumming with them both still inside and moving was so intense, so good, that Murdoc felt real tears begin to run down his face, completely overwhelmed.

“Oh fuck, you’re so sexy. Murdoc you’re so good I--!” 2D gasped, his thrusts coming to a halt as he let go and came inside the bassist. Ace, watching on, came moments after, his quiet moans filling Murdoc’s senses. The Satanist felt himself be filled with cum and moaned lowly.

All three men lay still for a few minutes, catching their breath and coming back to themselves. Ace pulled out first, careful not to cause too much overstimulation, and 2D did the same moment’s later with a hiss. Murdoc was boneless, letting himself be flopped around and maneuvered as needed.

“Phew, that was pretty intense, ey boys?” Ace asked, finally taking his pants off fully and lounging back. 2D was a little less lively, choosing to wrap his arms around Murdoc and lean in close.

“You alrigh’ Murdoc?”

The Satanist nodded tiredly, for once not pushing the younger man away. The tear tracks on his face were drying and leaving sticky patches behind. It felt so good to be held and wanted, fuck he’d needed this.

“Satan, I think you two nearly made me pass out there,” he joked. 2D hummed and began laying little kisses along his forehead. Behind him, Ace was fumbling around for a couple of smokes, lighting them and handing them out.

“We just wanted to show you we’re glad you’re home,” the ex-gangster said, tossing his shirt away into the darkness of Murdoc’s room.

“We really missed you,” 2D added. Murdoc laughed.

“I listened to The Now Now D, I know you missed me.” The singer blushed bright red as Ace snorted. What Murdoc didn’t say was that the first time he’d heard Souk Eye over the common-room radio he’d had to excuse himself to his bunk, lest the other inmates see him cry.

“Did you like it?” The singer's voice was sleepy and the hand holding his fag was dipping dangerously close to the comforter.

“Ask me when you can keep your eyes open.” Murdoc was tired too, and he could feel Ace behind him slipping the covers up and around them all. It looked like he wasn’t going to get his bed all to himself tonight, and maybe not for a while. Oh well, worse things had happened to better people.

[ravenclawbaz]

snowbaz prom

My contribution to @bookerella‘s snowbaz prom thingy! Sorry if this is kinda rough I whipped it out at like 10 last night and stayed up till 11:30 editing (thank u @mychemicalfrank for helping w/ that i love u) but here’s the finished thing?? whatever it is? I’m not so sure word count: 2075 | warnings: blood & fighting but it doesn’t end sad don’t worry 

Baz

As I walk across the lawn to the dining hall, I think about how much I hate the Mage. It’s a shame that he became the headmaster. My mother would be so disappointed in what Watford has come to.

A few weeks ago, the Mage had gathered all the 6th, 7th, and 8th year students in the Courtyard to inform us about a new dance that would be taking place at the end of April. Now that time has come, and I am being forced to go to prom.

It’s a thing in America, I know that, but the fact that the Mage has decided to spread this bullshit to Watford is utterly annoying. He said something about adopting other countries’ customs to broaden our knowledge of the world. Absolute bullshit. Like going to a dance is going to help us become better at magic.

But I’m going anyway. I wasn’t actually forced to go, it’s optional. How could I pass up a chance to annoy Simon and Agatha though? They’re going together, of course, and this will be the perfect chance for me to bother them.

I push open the double doors and am instantly ambushed by the loud music playing from several speakers and the chatter of students.

I seek out Dev and Niall and spot them standing on the other side of the room, seemingly waiting for me to get there before they move onto the dance floor. Good men. They nod when they see me coming toward them and I nod back.

I’m keeping an eye out for Snow, making sure that I don’t miss him. He left a while before me and I must admit, that boy looks beautiful in a suit. I wasn’t expecting him to wear one, but he came out of the bathroom wearing a nicely fitting grey one. My body wasn’t ready. I actually had to leave the room and recover. Making me share a room with Simon bloody Snow must be the universe’s way of punishing me for being a vampire.

And maybe for having a crush on Snow, who would never feel the same way toward me. Either works.

I finally see them. Snow, Wellbelove, and Bunce are standing near the punch bowl. Agatha is wearing a knee length light pink dress. The top of it looks to be lace and I think that maybe if I were straight, I might not mind being with her. She really is stunning.

Bunce leans into Simon, laughing and holding his shoulder for support. Her dress is purple -- a lovely contrast to her dark skin -- and there’s a pattern on it, though I can’t make it out from where I’m standing across the room.

It doesn’t take Snow long to notice me. I’m not entirely convinced that he doesn’t have a built-in radar that dings every time I’m near. He looks up sharply and locks eyes with me. He glares at me for a few seconds, before whispering to Bunce, taking Wellbelove by the hand, and walking with her into the crowd of dancing students.

I wait a few minutes, then say my goodbyes to Dev and Niall, and follow Simon into the mess of bodies. He’s dancing with Agatha near the edge of the group and he looks like an absolute fool. It’s obvious that he’s never danced in his life.

There’s a girl standing next to me, looking at me. I recognize her from a few months ago, her name is Lily and I think she may be a 6th year. She gave me a Valentine back in February, and although I ignored her, I could use this to my advantage. When I make eye contact with her, she dances over to where I am and continues to dance in front of me. I hate this, but if I want to get on Snow’s nerves, acting straight is what must be done.

The pop song that’s been playing ends, and a slow song comes on. Great. Lily wastes no time in flinging her arms over my shoulders, linking her hands behind my neck. I place my hands on her waist and slowly start to move us closer to where Snow and Wellbelove are dancing.

Snow scowls at me, holding Agatha tighter like he thinks I’m going to just take her. He isn’t that far off from my ultimate goal.

We keep dancing like that; Simon glaring at me from over Agatha’s shoulder, and me returning his look with a smug one, raising my eyebrow like I know he hates.

This has all been fun and games so far, but I think I may go too far when Agatha turns over her shoulder to see what Simon is staring at, and she sees me. I give her one of my most charming smiles and she blushes and tries to hide the smile on her lips. This must be the snapping point for Snow, who sees the whole interaction, because the smell of smoke that erupts is almost unbearable.

The students around us either move away quickly, afraid that he is going to go off, or draw closer to him, attracted to the scent of the magic. Normally, making Snow go off would be an accomplishment of mine. But not when we’re in a room full of people, and I think he may actually go off.

Mostly everyone has stopped dancing, and I see Agatha throw Simon a dirty glare. She grabs his arm and pulls him out of the dining hall into the corridor.

Being the nosy fuck I am, I follow Snow and Wellbelove to the corridor. I cast a spell so I can stay hidden, but still hear what they’re saying.

“Why do you have to get so worked up over everything Baz does?” She says. Her voice is hushed and she’s talking fast, like she’s afraid someone will overhear them.

“Do you not see what he does! He’s trying to steal you from me!” Well that’s never a good thing to say.

“You don’t own me, Simon!” Her voice is getting louder. I can’t see them, but I can imagine that Agatha is all up in Simon’s face, probably pointing an accusing finger at his chest.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Aggy. It’s just, I know he’s doing it to annoy me.” Snow hesitates for a second, then continues, “You know how hard I try to not let it get to me! Don’t you understand that?”

“I’m not sure I do understand it. Sometimes I think you pay more attention to him than you do me.” I know it’s terrible, but I smile a bit at that. “Simon, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Their voices are quieter, and when Simon speaks, my heart feels like it’s shattering into a million pieces. “Aggy, wait. No.” He sounds so… broken. I never want to hear him sound like that again.

I take a chance and peer around the corner. Simon is standing right outside an alcove, gripping Agatha’s arm like his life depends on it. She looks like she’s turned to walk away, but can’t now that he’s holding her.

I watch as she yanks her arm out of his grip and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Si. ”With that, she’s walking toward me, back to the dance, and I quickly hide behind the pillar outside the door.

Once she’s inside, I walk back out into the hallway. My body is screaming at me to stop. To just turn around and leave. But I see Simon slump against the wall, running his hands through his curls and pulling hard, and I can’t just leave him there. Though I’m not sure how much my presence is going to help him right now.

I hesitantly walk over to wear he’s leaning against the window and stand across from him. My hands are in my pockets and I know that he sees me, but I just stand there awkwardly until he addresses me.

“What the fuck do you want.” I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard him this angry. The air is still filled with smoke, thicker than before, and his voice is full of venom.

I don’t really know what to say, but I do know that I need to apologize. It’s very un-Baz like of me. “I’m sorry, Snow. I really didn’t intend for that to happen.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” He takes his hands out of his hair and throws them above his head wildly. I should’ve expected him to react like this. Maybe I should’ve waited until he cooled down to confront him.

I make to walk away, back into the dining hall and away from angry Simon, but he grabs my shoulder roughly and spins me back around. My hands are still stuffed in my pockets when he shoves me up against the wall behind me, and my head bangs against the stone with nothing to brace myself with.

He’s basically fuming with rage, and I’m terrified. There’s no doubt that he could kill me without hesitation right now. I’ve always thought I was ready to die at Snow’s hands, but I’m not so sure that’s true.

I carefully draw my hands out of my pockets and bring them up, palms out, in front of my chest.

“Snow, please just calm down. Let me go.” I try to keep my voice calm.

He just furrows his eyebrows and pushes me harder against the wall, his fists balled up in the front of my shirt. “No, Baz! You’ve gone too far this time.” His face is so close to mine and he’s yelling right in my face.

I try to leave, to pull myself out of his grip. That doesn’t work. Before I have time to react, he’s let go of my shirt with his right hand, holding tighter with his left to keep me in place. He pulls his right arm back and swings it at my face full-force. I hear a crack and I think I may have cried out, but my ears are ringing and my vision is starting to blur too much for me to care.

I crouch down, steadying myself against the wall with the hand that’s not holding my nose. There’s blood dripping down my chin, falling onto the floor and getting all over my clothes.

The initial shock of the hit is starting to go away, and I can see Simon kneeling on the ground in front of me. He looks worried and he’s pulling the pocket square out of his suit jacket, grabbing the back of my head and holding the piece of cloth over my nose with the other.

It stings when he touches it, and it just makes me mad. I can’t exactly hit him back in this state, so I do the next best thing I can. I grab his tie and pull him in, hard, ignoring the pain that ignites in my nose when it hits his cheek.

It’s not exactly how I imagined kissing Simon Snow would go. There’s blood everywhere and I’m pushing into him. It makes me even angrier that he isn’t being rough back, he’s just holding the  back of my head in his hand and pushing me away gently, not even kissing back.

He succeeds in pushing me off of him, and I let my head fall back against the wall, not caring how hard I hit it.

I think he’s just going to leave me here, bleeding out onto the floor and probably crying. Instead, he places his hands under my armpits and lifts me up, turning to stand beside me so he can wrap his arm tightly around my waist. My arm is draped over his shoulder, hanging by his armpit, and he’s holding it to keep me upright.

“Come on Baz, let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers, and starts walking us in the direction of the nurse’s office. My vision is still a little blurry and fuck, that hurt. If he broke my nose again I’m going to be immensely pissed off. It’s already crooked from the last time.

“I kissed you.” I say dumbly.

“I know you did, and we’ll talk about that later. But right now we gotta get your nose fixed.” We walk the rest of the way to the nurse’s office in silence.

Simon

I’m not so sure that I’m straight.

[arodrwho]

what about some fuckin uhhhhh stim hcs:

taako: i’ve read at least 3 things where he chews on the handle of the umbra staff & i dunno if that’s canon i missed or jus fanon but either way i’m here for it. spins in skirts. fiddles with things in his pockets, on occasion. also u know when u bake sth and u gotta stir it and u just kinda get lost in the stirring for a while cos it’s nice? he does that. also might chew on his own hands if sufficiently stressed, uncertain. definitely used to chew his own hair, but made himself stop. probably down for a good pressure stim but only if like, no one’s around to see. might on occasion rock back n forth on his feet, maybe

angus: Oh Boy, Angus. handflaps for sure, both when excited and Anxious. chews his sleeves when super anxious, probably, but tries not to otherwise. idly bites his pens when he thinks, but tries not to. does Not bite his fingernails though, that’s too Improper. (why does he draw the line there? fuck if i know.) anyway he probably also bounces. fiddles with the hems of his clothes, and spare scraps of paper, and maybe his own hair. (............the boy also chews his own hair sometimes, but tries to avoid that, probably. again, Improper. also, tastes bad.) runs his fingers over smooth paper, flips through books rapidfire, traces the edges of books. would like a nice worry stone, or a tangle, probably. oh! also does the shake-fist happy stim. A Wiggly Boy, basically, for all he tries to tone it down a bit to be Properly Detectivelike

magnus: carving is a stim. doesn’t so much body stim as like. Hands Must Be Doing Sth, and so carving works real well. taps out patterns on things too. traces ridges. paces, sometimes. that’sabout it

merle: mm. slowly braids his own beard over & over. rocks side-to-side when he sits sometimes, & sometimes when he stands, too. thinks pressure stims’re alright. would watch a ceiling fan go round. tangle his fingers in some grass. close his eyes against bright sunlight & watch the colors shift. (i dunno man this’s weird i def see merle as some kinda nd, but i don’t see him as a real big stimmer? cos stims i tend to see as like. high-energy things cos for me they so often are, but merle doesn’t feel like that to me. feels like. tree sap. s l o w e r.) anyway. prob runs his fingers over his sweet sweet gifted arm, later on. sensory-seeking in that he’s gotta like, touch everything he sees. but not in that he’s gonna bounce & wiggle bc to me he doesn’t feel a bouncy wiggly fidgety person, which is weird but okay merle u do u i guess

lup: lup!! stim. stim. stim stim stim. which is to say lup is v stimmy. also loud. stims loud. explosions? stims! visual + auditory. fire? stim! loud music played on repeat for a bit? stim! playing music? stim! putting rosin on a bow? quiet stim, thoughtful stim. zone-out stim. stims to music, probably. taps on things. fidgets if she’s gotta stay too still & doesn’t Feel like it. pace pace pacing. others prolly. singing. post-umbra staff, prolly double sensory-seeking

heyyyy it’s lucretia time: fuck i forgot the one i thought of. mmmmm. lucretia paces too, but quieter, in private. probably has a number of, shall we say, Unfortunate stims that she doesn’t tend to allow herself (hitting things, chewing on her fingers). probably doesn’t rly stim in front of people at all (at least, not anymore). bet she’d dig sticking her hands in a jar of some smooth smooth rocks, though. running her hands over smooth paper, yellowing paper, glossy leaves. prolly traces ridges & smooth parts of that dang staff. used to fiddle with pencils. curl the corners of her pages, if they were loose leaf. rock back and forth, if very upset. square herself away in small corners for that sweet pressure & security. once upon a time, a decade ago, might’ve done a shake-fist happy stim. still, occasionally, if she comes into contact with sth sensory gross, will wriggle her hands, but that’s, like, rare. (someone encourage this loser-ass nerd to stim. tell her it’s not unprofessional, or undeserved)

mmmmmmmm. davenport. stims w/illusion magic. illuuuuusion. stims w/hands. occasional stim w/words echolalia-style but post-fisher that sometimes makes him a bit. anxious. (and sometimes a lot anxious.) will bounce, but Only when very very very excited, because professionalism. rly mostly abt those visual stims & some sweet sweet workin w/hands

who else now did i decide was nd-flavored........? johann! right, yeah, okay. very very occasionally will get lost in puttin rosin on that there bow, bc the back-forth back-forth is stimmy. when he finally starts to play & it makes the big cloud he’s always v surprised. playin music is itself a stim. rocks back n forth on his heels, n sometimes side to side. lookin at voidfish buddy is visual stim. plucks out notes jus to feel the strings beneath his fingers.walks in aimless circles, not quite Pacing, but more than jus walking. likes the soft stuffs.

and there’s others but a) my hands hurt from typin too much & b) too much effort to think more thoughts, & therefore am done