#my little hot tamale

[ab4eva]

Elvis & Ann-Margret, part 2

[chaosandmarigolds]

Highly requested pt 2!

It was a domestic morning really, Simon was reading through the newspaper while Johnng very happily made pancakes. Work wasn't for another two hours and everything seemed-

"OHMYGODOHMYGOD-" (thud) "OH MY GOD-"

Now their record from downstairs to your bathroom is about five seconds, however they did break that record with three seconds and a half.

When Johnny threw open the door, expecting to find you murdered, all he found was a steamy shower and you curled up on the lid of the toliet- modesty out the windows as a a frog somehow managed to make it's way indoors.

Simon mindlessly unhooked the overly expensive towel from the door and held it out for you to take, "Ya fall?" He asked as Johnny attempted to grab the frog, however it just hopped away.

You take the towel and then clear your throat, "No. That was my shampoo."

"Uh huh? Sounded heavier than that."

"AYE!" Johnny exclaimed happily before you had the chance to further deny, "got the little bugger. Look at em."

he held the slimey thing towards you- which warranted a very dramatic squeak and a stupid choice to try and move away- only to slip and almost fall off the seat. However Simon held his arm out to keep you upright.

--

(Texting, Simon's phone)

My bitches ❤️

John ICE : lass and me are getting groceries, what's the list

Simon: Get whatever

Sunshine ICE: nuh huh last time you said that you got mad at us

Simon: cause you got chocolate and Swedish fish. We need real food

John ICE: don't diss Swedish fish like that

Sunshine ICE: fine we'll get chocolate and hot tamales ❤️❤️

John ICE: ❤️❤️

Simon: tomatoes, ground beef/ turkey, salad mix, bread, bagels? Earl Grey tea and the lemon one sunshine likes, lunch meat and other things to make sandwiches out of ...

--

( :p )

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Slap a Bow on It

 "Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."

@deadonmayn Day 1: Courting Rituals | Flickering | Dinner is interrupted by a rogue/gang fight | "Are they gone yet?"

TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit

AO3 Link

   Danny blinked.

   He could only assume that the crime lord, illuminated purely by the light of the fridge in the otherwise dark apartment, blinked back. The helmet didn't give anything away, red plating and slanted eye whites impassive. Good for being sexy menacing. Not so good for reading emotions.

   Danny blinked again, wiping the rheum from his eyes with pinched fingers. He squinted once more at Red Hood, who for some reason was in his apartment at - Danny glanced at the clock - three in the morning. He seemed perfectly content to be digging through Danny’s fridge, if a little sheepish at being caught.

    He should probably be more angry that his apartment was broken into. He absolutely was when he first woke to the uncomfortable feeling of an uninvited guest in his lair, but after seeing the vigilante’s arms laden with food his metaphorical hackles relaxed. The apartment was shitty anyway. 

   If anything, Danny was confused as to why he was here judging his fridge’s contents and playing Tetris with tupperware. It wasn’t like they knew each other. 

   Danny blinked a third time just to really make sure he was seeing what he was seeing, "...Hi?" 

   "Hey,"  Red Hood unfroze, seemingly recovered from being caught, and resumed stuffing what looked like a container of tamales into his fridge. 

   Danny couldn’t help but feel sullen at the dismissal. He'd woken up only for the admittedly hot trespasser with thick thighs to barely glance at him. Unacceptable. 

   "Do you want anything to drink?"  Danny must have been momentarily possessed by the ghost of Midwestern manners with how urgent the offer seemed. 

   "Nah," Red Hood stuffed another container into the fridge, turning to look back at Danny, "You don't have any allergies, do you?"

   "Nah."

   Red Hood nodded, pulling out a bag of rotten lettuce. He held it away from himself like it might try to bite him. In Danny’s experience, it very well could. 

   “Do you ever clean out your fridge?”

   Danny shrugged, “It’s finals week. I’ve got to keep my GPA above 3.5 if I want to keep my scholarship. No chores. Only study.”

   Red Hood nodded solemnly as he threw the lettuce into the trash, “No chores. Only study.”

   They fell into silence. Danny watched as the crime lord sifted through his fridge, pulling out rotten food as he went. “Is this because I decked that mugger? Cause’ he deserved it.”

   Red Hood very pointedly threw the expired milk carton into the trash can.

   “Okay then…” Danny yawned, “Well if that's all I’m going back to bed.”

   “Kay.”

   Danny shrugged, turned on his heel, and left the crime lord to rifle through his kitchen.

___👻___

   When Danny awoke the next day, he was greeted by a clean apartment. The absence of crumbs on the freshly swept floor felt odd on his feet, although it was certainly much more pleasant. The trash had been taken out and a new bag had already been installed. He passed by the sink on the way to make coffee, the dishes that had been filling it suspiciously absent. 

   Danny would deny to the ancients and back that his knees went weak when he found the coffee maker already set and filled with grounds... his sister must never know. 

   As he waited for the cup to brew, he opened his fridge for creamer only to come face to face with more home cooked food than he’d ever seen in his life. Danny pulled the food out plastic container by plastic container to stare at in disbelief. Tamales, chicken mole, Mexican rice, enchiladas, and carne asada… It was only a handful of containers, but still. It wasn’t as if his parents had done much in the way of cooking with all their time spent in the lab. Jazz could throw together something basic but nothing like this.

   The local hot crime lord slash vigilante had broken in at three in the morning to feed him and clean his apartment. Huh.

  No time to think about that. He has a final on differential equations in five hours and minimal time to cram. Danny stirs the creamer into his coffee, heats up some Mexican rice, and sits down at the untouched mess of notebooks, paper, and textbooks on his kitchen table. 

   He studies until he has to leave for the exam, only getting up to refill his coffee and get more food. The tamales are pretty fricken good, but they make it hard to focus on the numbers scribbled across his notebook. It’s like each bite is urging him to go back into the kitchen and cook, which is odd considering that Danny can’t cook and he already has enough food to last him through the next day or two (courtesy of the sexy crime lord). 

   He leaves the exam room feeling good only for his mood to immediately crumble when he remembers that he has an aerodynamics final at eight the next morning followed by gasdynamics at one. He takes a brief break to faceplant on the table, scream, refill his coffee for the umpteenth time, and eat some more food but inevitably resigns himself to pulling an all-nighter. Time becomes liquid after that. It’s all just a blur of numbers and properties and instructional videos. 

   At some point, he registers another presence in the apartment. Danny recognizes the ecto signature from the night before so he pays it no mind. Let Hood poke around, Danny has to read more about Newton’s Third Law. What was he going to do? Feed him again?

   The answer was apparently yes. 

   The background noise of shuffling in the fridge and washing empty containers stops and is replaced by soft, mechanical-sounding breaths. Hood is standing next to him, plastic container in hand as he watches Danny run through the Quizlet on his laptop. 

   Danny’s got around eighty percent of the terms memorized. Just another twenty percent to go. He types in the answer for a new blank. 

   Red Hood pokes his shoulder.

   Danny grumbles. His response came back wrong.

   His shoulder is poked again.

   Danny ignores it and moves on to the next blank.

   He continues unbothered for an uncertain amount of time. The words on the screen are blurry like he is trying to read underwater. His mouth splits into an entirely too wide, jaw-cracking yawn. His uninvited guest coos at him as Danny rubs at his eyes. The next thing he knows, his laptop is shut closed and moved away. It feels like any and all visual processing is delayed. Danny stares blankly at the spot the computer used to sit.

   Something slides in front of him to replace the laptop. His core chirps when he realizes it's food. Hood’s answering chirp as he guides a fork into his hand is deep and rumbly with the faint stutterings of a purr. Danny starts to purr in return as he sleepily munches on the casserole.

    Before long the empty plate is taken away. Danny slumps down on the newfound table space and tries to fight off sleep. 

   “I think it's time for you to go to bed.”

   “Noooooo! I’v gotta study fr' aero’namics.”

   “You’re slurring your words there, handsome.”

   Danny’s sleep-deprived brain screeched to a halt. His core chirped to attention, “Flat’ry ain’t gettin’ you nowhere.”

   “It was worth a shot.”

    Danny smushed his face further into the wood to hide his blush and distracted himself by blindly reaching for his coffee mug. Upon noticing, the vigilante moved it out of reach. Danny whined into the table.

   “You can’t overwork yourself like this, Danny,” Red Hood carried the mug to the sink and poured it down the drain. Cruel, cruel man. “I know you’ve got exams but your scores won’t be any good if you go into them like this. You've got to take care of yourself,”  He lightly squeezed Danny’s shoulder. Danny hadn’t even heard him move across the kitchen. “Can you do that, darlin’? For me?”

    Danny groaned, “F’ne. But only cause’ ur hot.”

   The vigilante snorted. It sounded odd through the helmet but not bad. “I’m happy to hear it! Now let's get you to bed.”

___👻___

   Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid.

   He had been helping his parents in the lab since he was four, and he was nearly a straight-A student before the accident. He was an aerospace engineering major with a hefty GPA of 3.8, and most importantly, he’s had extensive lessons on ghosts, the Infinite Realms, and their culture. 

   He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. 

   So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. The thought kept running through his head as he stared at the food in the fridge, the clean apartment, and the prepped coffee maker. 

   He was being courted. 

   He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street. 

   Danny had never been courted before! 

   Sure, occasionally there was someone who tried to shoot their shot, but it always fell flat in the end. It was an unfortunate side effect of being undead. Every human relationship he had felt… lacking. Like it was missing something. 

   Val had come pretty close. All the fighting and shooting felt like a mimicry of ghostly courtship behavior. It's what had drawn Danny to her in the first place, but Val wasn’t fighting him in a display of power and capability. She had genuinely wanted to end him. 

   There was also the incident with Kitty, but she was overshadowing Paulina and mimicking human behaviors. There was never any ghostly courtship involved, and besides, she was only dating him to make Johnny jealous. 

   This is Danny’s first time being properly courted!

   What is he going to do about it?

   He decided that the question could wait until after finals.

   The next few days pass by much the same as before: a tortuous cycle of studying, caffeine, minimal sleep, screaming, and exams. Red Hood continues to stop by and deliver food. Danny has got to figure out the dude’s actual name or a nickname or something. He refuses to keep calling his potential partner Red Hood. When you take away the scary crime lord persona it just sounds like a condom brand. He could always use a pet name, but it feels wrong given that Danny hasn’t shown much reciprocation outside of allowing Hood into his lair. Instead, Danny settles on greeting him with a trill and a series of chirps. 

   As soon as he finishes his last final he flops face down into bed. Tomorrow he’ll get to work on reciprocating Red Hood’s efforts. His kitchen is blessedly clean of any ecto contamination. Without the food fighting back, he should be able to whip up something presentable. How hard could following a recipe be?

___👻___

   Danny was wrong.  

   Staring at the stove which was somehow on fire, Danny couldn’t help but finally understand why Jazz had never allowed him in the kitchen. He quickly rushes to turn off the heat. Danny doesn’t have a fire extinguisher. He’s a broke college student with just enough money to live on the outskirts of Crime Alley. Why would he ever be able to afford a fire extinguisher? 

   Danny slams a lid over the pot to smother the flames erupting from it and wacks the stovetop with a damp towel. As the fire dies down he glares at the somehow burnt gnocchi sitting ever so innocently in boiling water. He probably could have just iced it. The ice would melt into water and put out the fire, right? 

   He takes another look at the ruined food as the bubbles die down and decides he’s probably just cursed. Not all hope is lost though, Danny reasons as he dumps the ruined gnocchi down the garbage disposal. So Italian cuisine was not his forte. That’s okay! He’ll just try a different recipe!

___👻___

   The recipe said quick and easy. 

   This was neither quick nor easy.

   He dumped the carbonized remains of food into the trash with a sigh. It was French toast! How could someone go so wrong with French toast? The kitchen looked like something had exploded in it for ancients’ sake! 

   Danny thunked his head onto the counter, uncaring of the milk and eggs coating it. An entire loaf of bread gone and not a single edible piece of toast to show for it! He groaned. Maybe he just… wasn’t cut out for this whole courting thing. 

   Dejectedly, he lifted his head and began to wipe down the counter with paper towels. He really liked Hood.

   He was funny! While he mostly left Danny alone during his study sessions, Danny had seen the viral videos. Hood knew how to crack a good death joke, and the compilations of him ragging on Batman were something to aspire to. 

   He cared for people! The sponsored soup kitchens and homeless programs were an open secret in Crime Alley, and the working girls were paid well. The street kids knew they were safe in the Alley because anyone who tried to touch them would end up with their head in a duffle bag. Red Hood protected them.

   And ancients was he hot! Thick thighs for days and strong arms that could probably lift Danny like a couple of grapes. Danny wouldn’t mind being thrown around by a guy like that. He would happily let him pin him to a wall and box him in and then Danny could sink his fangs into his shoulder and then- 

   Okay! Stop! Too far! That’s awfully ambitious for someone who can’t even cook a proper courting gift. Think, Danny, Think! 

  Okay… okay. So he can’t cook. That’s fine because Danny can build. He’s been building things since he was practically a toddler. He can make something easy peasy!

   What about a gun? Red Hood seemed to like guns. Danny’s core purred at the idea. If he had to guess, the vigilante had a protection obsession of some sort. A gun was something that could protect Red Hood but also be used to protect others in his haunt and directly feed into his obsession. Yes! The gun idea was good.

   But then again, Hood had been working with Batman more and more frequently, and with that had been using guns less and less. How often could the gun be used? No, no. This courting gift should be usable in all scenarios. 

   What about a knife? Yes! A knife could work! As far as Danny knew, Batman didn't have anything against knives. Surely a knife paled in comparison to Robin's katana. A knife was sneaky and quiet, good for stealth missions unlike a gun, and easier to carry for everyday use. 

   Danny hummed, nodding to himself. He’d do the knife first and save the gun for later. He was going to need supplies. 

   Danny wiped the dripping egg away from his forehead before it could get into his eyes. But first, he was going to need a shower.

___👻___

   So…

   It could’ve gone worse.

   Despite basically being raised reverse-engineering his parents’ inventions, Danny had never tried to make a knife. He could gut a microwave from the local back alley dumpster and Macgyver it into a functioning weapon, but building a makeshift forge on short notice and hammering steel down into a smooth curve was a whole different ballpark. Luckily the local trade school had a forge, and after some good old-fashioned bribery, they allowed Danny access. That was the first problem out of the way. Unfortunately, the second problem remained. It was fine. Danny was used to thinking on his feet. 

  After many YouTube videos and failed attempts Danny had a somewhat presentable blade. With a saw edge on the top and a sharp curve similar to a khukuri on the bottom, it certainly didn’t look like a beginner's design.

   He probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to a more advanced shape. Danny hadn’t managed to fix the slight warp of the blade, and maybe the practice beforehand would have done him some good. Regardless, it was too late to fix it after the ecto wash, and he didn’t think the warp would affect the performance too negatively. Besides, with the ectoplasm infused into it the knife should cut through ghosts with no problem. 

  Danny had spent entirely too long trying to find the perfect shade of red leather for the handle, but in the end, he accurately matched it to Red Hood’s helmet. He had wanted to incorporate some protective runes into the leather, but he had no idea how to make a lasting pattern that wouldn’t affect the user’s comfort. Eventually, he decided it was an idea to be saved for another project. 

   With his courting gift complete, all that was left to do was break into Red Hood’s lair and give it to him…

   That sounded wrong. Give the knife to him. It’s not an innuendo! Great. Now he’s thinking about those thick thighs again. Stop! Bad Danny!

   He shook himself to dispel the train of thought. Danny had a different, more pressing problem to deal with: How could he present a knife to a vigilante without it coming across as a threat? He didn’t have a box for it, and the knife didn’t have a sheath yet. He could always make himself the box and store it in his chest, but watching someone pull random items out of their body was apparently gross and disturbing, or so he’d been told. What if he just-

   Danny yanked open the kitchen junk drawer and began to root around. After a few seconds of sifting, he pulled out his prize and ever so gently stuck it to the knife. The green gift bow was squished on one end but remained comically large on the blade. He bounced up and down on his toes. It was so stupid that it just might work. 

   Feeling the cool rush of invisibility, Danny phased through the wall of his apartment to greet the early morning light beginning to peak over the buildings. Floating in the air for a minute, he absently fiddled with the bow on his courting gift. With the city starting to wake, Hood should be returning to his lair. 

   It didn’t take long for him to fly past the unseen territory lines and into Crime Alley. Danny had crossed through Hood’s haunt before. It had never felt aggressive like some in the Ghost Zone. Red Hood's haunt was more curious, probing with a warning to behave himself. The haunt felt different this time around. Now it felt welcoming rather than wary, warm. If Danny closed his eyes, he could almost imagine being held in a protective embrace. His core hummed in response, seeking out the other’s resonance. 

   Danny had never been to Hood’s lair. He hadn’t even been given directions, but he didn’t need them. He'd simply follow Hood’s ecto signature to where the haunt’s energy was most concentrated. Like the dead equivalent of a bloodhound. 

   Danny took his time meandering toward the heart of the haunt. He’d never been this far into Crime Alley before, and he didn’t want to get turned around. That was a lie. Danny was nervous and stalling. Doubts flew unbridled through his head.

   What if the knife wasn’t good enough? What if the bow didn’t work? What if Red Hood thought he was threatening him? What if Danny blew his shot? Danny had already screwed up so many other things in his life, he didn’t want to screw this up too!

   There was only so long he could stall. Jittery with nerves, Danny floated outside a decrepit apartment building. The entire structure was practically drenched in Red Hood’s ecto signature, but it radiated in waves from a unit on the top floor. Danny took a breath to steady his racing heart and struggled to quiet his core. It was now or never. 

   He cautiously phased halfway through the wall, chirping in greeting. The apartment was clean and orderly. The fireplace and full bookshelves gave it a homey feel that sharply contrasted with the worn and weathered bricks on the outer wall. The lack of weapons was a surprise. Even if he couldn't see them Danny figured they were still there, well hidden in the otherwise normal apartment. 

   A surprised sound draws his attention to the man on the couch. He’s built like a quarterback, lounging on one side as he struggles to stitch a laceration across his ribcage with a needle in one hand and a handheld mirror in the other. It's hard not to get distracted by the autopsy scar running cleanly across his collarbone and down to his pelvis. Danny wants to lick it.

   Piercing blue eyes search the apartment, arm lowering the mirror. Danny is thankful that he's still invisible. With the heat flooding to his ears, he’s sure he’s as red as a tomato. Danny’s practically drooling at tousled black and white hair and the long scar reaching up from under his jaw to his hairline like a flower stretching for the sun. His crooked nose, clearly broken and healed many times over, only adds to his beauty. Red Hood is truly a modern-day Adonis.

    Hood’s wounded side finally registers in Danny’s brain, rearranging his priorities and catapulting his obsession to the front. Immediately he lets his invisibility drop, absently shoving the knife into his chest for safekeeping. Hood makes a distressed sound as he does so which urges Danny forward. His hands hover worriedly over the man as he pushes as much help/comfort/safety/concern into his aura as possible. 

   He reaches to take the threaded needle from Red Hood’s hand only to be nudged away.

   “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

   "Hood, let me help."

   "Jason,” he licks his lips, “My name is Jason."

   "Jason," Danny gently cups Jason’s face in his hands, "Please let me help, Jason."

   Blue eyes gaze into his own. The ever-so-faint hints of green within them are captivating, swirling in a hypnotic dance that leaves Danny in a daze. Finally, Jason looks away and nods, breaking the trance between them and passing the needle over.

   Danny allows himself to revert to the mindset of his vigilante days. He stitches the wound with a single-minded focus, practiced hands falling back into a familiar rhythm. Jason watches the entire time, staring intently at his face as he works. Danny struggles to keep his core quiet and pretends not to notice, taping a bandage over the cut. His fingers graze over Jason's body, checking it over for any other injuries. Jason allows it to happen with a distinct feeling of affection/amusement. 

   “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

   “Nah. The kevlar usually prevents stuff like this. I was just unlucky.”

   “Good.” 

   Danny runs his fingers through the white tuft in Jason’s hair, pushing the strands out of his face. His core kickstarts like an engine with a vengeance, humming and searching for Jason’s core song in anticipation. Danny squeaks, stumbling backward. He smothers the sound and quiets his core, but with the look on Jason’s face, he hadn’t been quick enough.

   “Sorry!” Danny stutters out, flushing. 

    Jason’s expression shifts to confusion, “Why are you apologizing?”

   “I’m being way too forward,” Danny drags his hands down his face in embarrassment, “We haven’t had a spar yet and fuck! I haven’t even given you your courting gift yet, but here I am! Invading your space and trying to harmonize! I’m so sorry.”

    “Lucky for you I like forward,” Jason gently grasped his hands, lowering them away from his face. His palms felt warm against Danny’s skin, “Is that what you shoved into your chest earlier? A courting gift?” Jason punctuated the sentence with a gentle kiss to Danny's slow pulse.

   Danny nodded, stunned. Tearing his gaze away from Jason’s lips, he reached into his chest and pulled out the knife. Jason chuckles, his eyes crinkling in mirth, “You put a bow on it?”

   Danny grinned, his fangs on full display, “Well I had to make it presentable, didn’t I?” 

   He gets down on one knee, head bowed and knife held upwards in offering as if he were a knight presenting a sword to a king. Jason gingerly lifts it out of his hands, cradling it like a precious gem. Danny watches as his fingers trace the edge. 

   “It feels like you,” Jason looks to Danny for answers, eyes wide with wonder and a beautiful flush on his face.

   “I wanted to make sure it was effective against ghosts, but it's hard to find enough clean ectoplasm around here. I sorta just… used my own?” Danny rubs the back of his neck with a wince, “Do you like it?”

   He waits in anxious anticipation as Jason stands from the couch. Jason sets the blade gently down on the coffee table behind Danny before tugging him into his arms, “I love it, baby,” his words vibrate over a purr that Danny can feel in his bones, “Just don’t go hurting yourself for courting gifts anymore.”

   Danny groaned, tucking his face under Jason’s chin. “You have no idea how much that narrows my options down.” 

   Jason laughs. 

   Danny pulls away to look up at him, lightly batting at Jason’s peck “I’m serious, Jason! I can’t cook for shit! You’re gonna need to wait a long ass time until I can get my hands on more ecto. I hope you’re ready to wait because it’s going to take me months to build that gun now!”

   “You wanted to make me a gun?” 

   “Yeah? I was going to have one ready in the next few weeks but-”

   Jason’s smile is dazzling as he leans down to press his lips to Danny’s. Danny forgets to breathe as he melts into the kiss. He’s tugged forward until they are chest-to-chest on the couch, cores close together. Danny’s not sure whose core starts to hum first, but the sound is unmistakable as they waver between pitches. Danny bites at Jason’s lips, making a pleased sound when they part for him.

   It’s weird to be doing this before a spar. It’s backward, unconventional. Danny can’t find it in himself to care.

   It’s a wondrous thing when their cores synchronize. Something finally clicks, like a lock snapping into place, and suddenly Danny can feel so much. The humming harmony of their cores permeates every single one of Danny’s nerves. The rush of giddy happiness is unlike anything he’s felt before. He can feel Jason, too. The rampant emotions fling between them until it's hard to tell whose is whose. In Jason’s arms with a core bond in place, Danny has never felt so secure in his life. 

   This. This is what he's been missing. 

   Danny breaks away from their kiss to nip at Jason’s jawline, paying special attention to the scar. Jason makes a pleased sound, tugging lightly at his hair.

   “Your teeth are sharp as fuck.”

   “Aren’t yours?”

   Jason nuzzles under Danny’s shirt collar and into his shoulder. Danny shudders as he feels canines dig into his skin. They’re sharp, but not as sharp as his. 

   Danny giggles, pressing a kiss to Jason’s hair. “I want to see how skilled you actually are with those teeth. Once you’ve healed we can have a proper spar.”

   “I’ll show you a proper spar,” Jason grumbles. 

  Suddenly Danny is pinned, lying on the couch with Jason’s weight on top of him. Jason kisses his cheek, tucking his head back into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh. It's like the world's best weighted blanket, Danny thinks as his eyes droop shut in relaxation.

   They remain like that in silence, basking in the positive emotions and comfort of their new bond. It’s about ten minutes later that Danny finally breaks it.

   “Why me?”

   “Hmm?”

   “Just… why court me? I know I pass through your haunt now and then but we’ve only actually seen each other like… once. What could I have possibly done to catch your attention?”

   “You punched a mugger.”

   “Yeah… so?”

   “You knocked the fucker out in one blow before I could even lift a finger.”

   “And?”

   Jason lifted his head to give him a pointed look.

   Danny stared back.

   Oh…

   Oh!

   “Do you have a competency kink!?”

   Jason flushed, ducking his head back down with a groan. 

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head Cannon bc I can - What kinds affectionate the different assassins would be - Part 1

Ezio Auditore da Firenze - The Lover of Love. Family man very affectionate/grew up in a loving closely knit family/family oriented/notices little things/sweetheart with a side of spice/he reminds me of the hot tamale candy lol spicy AND sweet at the same time bc he can be a cinnamon roll one second and then become the oven that you PUT the cinnamon roll IN. He seems like he would play the lute for you the few chords that he learned when he was younger that is, and he MIGHT sing but don't count on it haha. Man wrote some real nice letters when he was older so I bet he would try his hand at love letters no matter which Ezio you prefer, and they would be sweet. Loves to give hand kisses whether they be sweet or steamy. Often comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you in a hug, and imo LOVES it when you rake your fingers through his hair gently scratching his scalp. Would instantly be down bad for someone who cooks Italian food for him because it makes him feel loved and cared for.

Bayek of Siwa - The Kind Lover. Proud affection/"look at how awesome my partner is I worship the ground they walk on"/offers an arm for escort/is not afraid to hold your hand/great at letting people know where they stand and setting boundaries so no one will be confused about who he has feelings for. Very attentive and notices the little things/can kick ass and then some but is so gentle and sweet with the one he loves (no one touches a hair on their head or disturbs the air around them or so help him Anubis...) /great at communicating and is not afraid to talk about feelings. Have a feeling that he enjoys fresh baked bread and anything sweet he can get his hands on, and also loves to share them with his love. NO ONE can tell me that he doesn't take good care of the person he loves because man is a sweetheart protector and dang good provider. Forehead kisses are a big thing with him, where he gently cradles your head to do so, and lots of eye contact when he tells you that he loves you.

Edward Kenway - The Cheeky Pirate. sexual tension/handsy and cheeky but will stop if you're uncomfy/he knows when to behave/won't hesitate to smooch you to the ninth realm and back if someone looks at you like they want you/ have a feeling that he is BIG TIME into holding his partner in front of him at the wheel and steering the Jackdaw (letting them drive but not really)/spoils his loved one rotten any chance he gets (even if it is stolen lol)/will probably make you his co-co-captain alongside Adewale.

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway- The Respectful Lover. Not really one for PDA but you'll know that you're loved by him/does gush about you to people from his tribe and everyone at the Homestead knows he's DOWN BAAADD (the tribe elders have predicted a wedding date lol bc they know that he'll marry you. Definitely teaches self-defense and fall in love 5,000 times harder if they made an attempt to learn Kanien'keha/if they love animals and nature, he again will worship the air they breathe. If you cook for him especially recipes from his tribe, he'll probably get emotional because they remind him of home, and he would be head over heels in love with someone who was open to learning about where he comes from and the ways of his people. If you defend him when someone is rude to him (despite being well able to defend himself as we all know) he will feel protected and loved, which he's rarely felt in his life since his mother.

Jacob Ethan Frye - The Sweetheart. Makes his partner feel valued ESPECIALLY as a woman because he's not a typical 19th century man who's all "women's place is in the home having babies and cooking and cleaning". He WILL LISTEN TO YOU and also put great faith in your opinion/cheeky and very flirtatious/can get flustered if partner matches his energy though lol/ something tells me this man LOVES and is WHIPPED for domesticity he's had a crazy, dangerous life with too many near death experiences to count at only 21 years old and while he would still be the chaotic cinnamon roll you fell in love with the Rooks and fight club and all he would love to come home to peace and calmness. If you cook/bake for him he will literally turn into a bottomless pit he LOVES IT though it will sometimes start sibling squabbles between him and his older sister because she loves your cooking too haha. Also teaches self-defense but will get flirty with you real quick so it's probably best to learn from Evie lol. VERY genuine and he means every loving word he says and every touch he gives. Protective of you and will throw hands if someone disrespects you. He also loves to make you laugh and tell.me.WHY I am so dang sure that he LOVES it when you play with his hair especially if you scratch your fingers lightly against his jaw and the scratchy whiskers he has there.

Desmond Miles - The Lonely One. Proud as well/total gentleman with sexy swagger lol/loves to take you out on his motorcycle/loves it when you come visit him at work because he'll be doing his job and look over to see you which makes him instantly happy/TOTALLY shows off his bartending skills and winks at you while doing it being a total flirt/ love language without a doubt is quality time and physical touch. Man is VERY affectionate imo because he's touched starved and most likely lonely (even with the Animus he still wants you because you comfort him). If you defend him from Shaun when he's being annoying or pushing him too much or clap back at the male half of his DNA, he will literally love you forever. Man is FERAL for a significant other that will defend him and care for him the way he wasn't all those years alone.

Altair Ibn La'Ahad - The Reserved Soldier...who's Smitten. Doesn't do PDA most that might happen is an arm offered for an escort or a hand on the waist to push you behind him/will kiss you on the cheek before he goes off on missions the same way he does the rest of the members of the Brotherhood (even if you're not part of it) while saying to you in Arabic "Safety and Peace my darling". Shows affection by smirking at you when you're flustered and acting as your intimidating AF bodyguard/in private tho...he's very amorous and loves having physical contact with his partner. Totally the type to lie there and rest with them or lazily kiss and hug. Not averse to showing that he loves you in public or declaring his love because he does love you very much, he just wants to protect your honor and avoid anyone (read: MALIK) heckling/harassing the both of you about being lovers. You are for his eyes and his eyes only whether it be hand holding, kissing, or various other things that he often thinks about...

Arno Victor Dorian - The Hopeless Romantic. Very affectionate also from being lonely and touch starved/not afraid to show his love for you in public. He DEFINITELY writes you love letters that are just - SIGH. He has a way with words and just pours everything into the letters he writes you, what he loves about you and why, how much you mean to him, how he would do anything for you. He's a hopeless romantic and when he falls in love he falls HARD and gives the one he loves everything (cue traumatic flashbacks of a certain ex-now deceased red haired lover of his). I think he would be SO in love with someone who noticed the little things about him and took care of those things. If he's sleep deprived? You let him sleep in and fix him breakfast in bed. If he's lonely while working? You sit with him wherever he is and read/ write/look out the window and watch Paris silently comforting him with just your presence. If he forgets to eat? You fixing him something delicious to eat and bringing it to him giving him a kiss and words of encouragement. Bringing him tea/water/coffee/hot chocolate while he's working. Would definitely spoil you with treats from the Cafe and if you work there, he'll drop by every so often to give you a sweet quick kiss. I think he would also show affection by helping you get ready in the morning and take this the way you wish...but he's really good with corset laces, buttons, and layers upon layers of fabric. He's thoughtful and sweet taking time to think about you (even though he barely thinks about himself). Will legit protect you with his life he refuses to lose you and will do anything to keep you safe. He loves to have slow relaxing days with you to have a moment away from his normally stressful life. You pulling him away from his work for distraction or holding him when the Council annoys him is always welcome. You will definitely know that he loves you with everything that he has.

[ab4eva]

Oh god. Oh god I love her so much 😭 My little Hot Tamale. I didn’t think I could love her more than I already do but…this interview did it 😍

I respect Ann Margret. Everyone else in Elvis’s life l milked him for all its worth but she’s the only one who has been relatively quiet and kept the personal details of their relationship to herself.

Ann Margret is the sweetest!!! I’ve talked about this a little bit before but I just have the utmost respect and admiration for her because (like you mentioned) she keeps the personal details of their relationship to herself and refuses to give the media what they want to know (even though I’m desperate for details myself lmao💀)

she did an interview super recently and when the interviewer asked her about Elvis she changed the subject sooo quickly (she literally pointed to the guy’s socks and asked about them) and they never brought Elvis up again

also I believe it was Mindi Miller who Elvis asked for her to never write a book about him (it was around the time “Elvis: What Happened?” was being worked on by his former bodyguards) and she hasn’t to this day which I also really respect

As grateful as I am for all the books we have about Elvis I still can’t help but feel weird sometimes knowing that so much about his personal life is no longer private

I truly think he would be mortified to know how many girlfriends and friends have shared the most intimate details of his life. I just imagine the betrayal he felt by Red and Sonny West, and Dave Hebler but multiplied by a thousand because everyone in his life has profited off of their relationship with him in someway since his passing🤧

[papil0nglegs]

Darnell/Pico x Latina!Reader

(Separate)

A/n: uhh I’m Latina soo. Also I rlly like this one, it was fun to write. Idk what to say here so ya

Darnell:

Bro this man CANNOT get enough of ur food

Every time you bring him some or you invite him to one of your parties he’s always fucking that shit UP

Literally just

“Do you two need a room?”

“Hmf?” (Huh?)

“You and the tamale.”

“Mm.. mof” (oh.. no)

He has good spice tolerance, so he loves all the food

He’s also does.. okay in Spanish. He took a few spanish classes in highschool so talking to ur family isn’t much of a problem

But some things are too complicated for him, like when you invited him to one of your gatherings your tia came up to him and gave him a headache

“Hola! Mira como guapo es su novio!! Si hablas español?”

“..uh huh”

Save him pls

Sometimes when getting into arguments you use Spanglish against him and he tries too but fails

“Donde estabas? I was so worried!”

“Relax baby eso no es my fault!!”

He failed that Spanish class take it easy on him

When you two were in highschool, he loved doodling on your hand (cuz he’s an graffitist) because of your tan skin (if you have it)

He always used warm toned colors while spelling something like ‘y/n’ on your hand in graffiti letters

But sometimes he loves the doodle way too much to give up on it, so he would use it as a reference for another project at an alleyway

“How long do I have to hold my hand up like this?”

“Just ten more minutes babe, gotta catch that aspect”

“sigh que pendejo..”

Pico:

He would actually die for you

Pico is into the whole ‘I <3 Latinas’ thing so when he asked you out and you said yes he died

Pico STRONGLY believes ur the most beautiful creature on the planet

Now since pico is.. ✋🏻 spicy food isn’t his strong suit

He’ll try his best but all he’s gonna do is hurt himself

“Amor, you good?”

“Cough cough yeah it’s just a little cough hot!”

“Pico, it’s a taki..”

He’s mostly a fan of the candy your culture has to offer, he gets so excited when you bring him a pelon pelo

Now pico doesn’t know jack SHIT about Spanish

So when you invited him to one of your family gatherings he was so confused

“Mira, es la novio de y/n! Tienes hambre, mijo?”

“Huh”

He def tries, he’ll point to something and ask you abt it

“This is doo-si, right?” 😊(He’s trying to say dulce)

“….mhm!!”

He also likes you give you Spanish nicknames, ‘mamas’ is already his default but he also likes to throw ‘mi amor’s and ‘mi vida’s in there too

Pico (even without you) is really into Spanish rock, idk I just think it fits his vibe

Your younger cousins really like nagging him about you

“How’d you meet her? Is she nice to you? Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Y/n I think you have some competition..”

“She better not tf”

[ssparksflyy]

Hiii I hope you are having a great day!! I was wondering if you could make another percy jackson x daughter of Hecate reader? If you don’t/ can’t do it that’s fine I just though i would ask.

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: percy jackson x latina!daughter of hecate!reader warning(s): swearin an: dw i got ur 2nd request that u wanted reader to be latina :)) i just added in some little things that tie in ♡♡ srry if these are short btw </3

in the dead of night, your eyes so greennnnnnnn

you and percy tend to stay up later than most of camp

your always up and out after curfew

you js function better at night okay

me asf

the day is reserved for lake dates and the night is reserved for sky watching dates ♡♡

youre literally attached by the hip if you couldnt tell

as they say in waitress, i love you means your never ever getting rid of me ♡

you usually watch from the roof of cabin 3, just cuddled up and sharing a blanket

but once percy suggested you watch from the docks

and you were like oh!

not actually but you looked really hesitant

he was like whats wrong??

so you told him about la llorona !! #coquette

it was so preppy

but now youre both scared to go to the lake at night

even though yk shes not real

and youve literally been through tartarus

and back

and you face unimaginable horrors every day

and percy's literally the son of the sea god

mexican folklore is scary ok yall

idc if it didnt scare you as a kid / you like horror

I DONT

IM TRAUMATIZED

MY GRANDMA PUT ON LA LEYENDA DE LA LLORONA WHEN I WAS FIVE AND I HAVENT KNOWN A DAY OF PEACE SINCE

sorry for trauma dumping yall

kinda silly how some story about a lady who drowned her kids is enough to make 2 of camp half blood's strongest soldiers shake in their boots

so u stick to rooftops ♡

you and hazel are bestiessss

shes a honorary member of cabin 20 of course

you exchange tips and tricks, hazel telling you about the things she saw hecate do and the things she said to her

and you tell her about the things youve picked up over the years :))

percy cant help but smile whenever he sees you two together

he sees hazel as a sister

(yall remember in son when he was ready to fight somebody for her or something like that i dont remember exactly what he said but i do know he was ready to fight)

and ur his fav girl ever ♡

his heart just feels warmed

same way he feels when he sees you playing with estelle

you show her a bit of ur powers and she flips outtttt

she asks sally to be a witch for halloween because "i want to be just like (y/n)!!!"

dont know about yall but if i went home and my family found out i was involved with ~brujeria~ i would not be accepted at home (please read as if youre white and cant say shit in spanish)

thats just the mad religious side talking dont worry yall

but sally and paul would literally let you in with open arms

the jackson's apartment is your second home

percy has a drawer reserved for your clothes in his room ♡♡

he loves it when you sleepover, at home or at camp

he absolutely adores kissing your hands

he doesnt care about the dangers you can produce from them, he'll kiss em allllll he wants

you could be cuddled up together, ur reading to him and he just grabs one of your hands and begins to leave a trail of kisses up your arm, shoulder, neck, cheek, and eventually leaving one on your temple

it just gets you like 😵‍💫

he loves his badass girlfriend, okay?

literally your #1 fan

would beat up anybody who talks shit !!!

tea is your holy ground ♡

because you cant drink coffee

cause ya know, adhd, youll just end up knocking out

though you do drink it when you cant fall asleep at night

its me, hi

and hot chocolate is strickly an only-in-december drink, because then it wont hit in december, since you had it earlier in the year

(my mom does that with gorditas and tamales broooo its painful)

so ya drink tea!

i dont drink tea, so im not even gonna try to tell you what his favorite is

he likes whatever you like

but you try a bunch of different teas and stuff together :)

youd probably adopt a black cat together when youre older

youre never gonna beat your neighbor's witch allegations

(probably because theyre true but youll obviously never say that)

i feel like percy would be more of a dog person but lets be real, he likes horses.

fuckin horse girl smh

but that does not mean he wouldnt love and care for the cat

he'd so let you stop to pet any stray cat you see on the street

takes pictures of the cat anytime you do ♡

you cook together !!

you teach percy a bunch of different recipes and stuff :)

has a 'kiss the cook' apron 100%

and what can ya say, you gotta kiss the cook

man you guys manage to stay silly throughout the horrors, we love

[seramilla]

In the vaggie Carmilla related au, we already saw Carmilla looking to Vaggie for some sort of comfort, but when was the first time it was Vaggie who looked to Carmilla for comfort? I can't think of a specific situation (Just a generally stressful situation for Vaggie where the first and/or only person she thinks of and wants to seek comfort from is Carmilla), but I just want to see her have her first "I need my mom" moment.

Vaggie doesn't even hesitate to come over the next day when Carmilla asks if she wants to have dinner with herself and the girls. Telling Charlie she's going over for a visit, she kisses the princess goodbye, and books it to Carmilla's in less than 5 minutes. She's become more brave about flying over Pentagram City ever since the wedding was announced...no one would dare shoot Lucifer's daughter's fiancé out of the sky. Not if they wanted to keep their spine.

Carmilla meets her at the door, looking much more cheerful and domestic than Vaggie thinks she's ever seen her. When Carmilla goes in to hug her daughter, Vaggie raises her eyebrow and pushes Carmilla away. The matriarch is wearing a white chef's apron with what looks like blood splatters all over it. When Carmilla notices her staring at it, she laughs heartily. She rubs her large claw over the front of it, and it comes away clean. No blood.

"It's just the pattern," Carmilla says, grinning. "It's a Mother's Day present. Clara thought it was funny. I guess I kind of do, too."

Vaggie sighs and smiles back at her. What a relief! She moves in for a much-needed hug, and Carmilla squeezes her tight, running her hand down the back of Vaggie's head tenderly. She lets her large claws trail through the girl's long hair. Vaggie perhaps keeps her arms wrapped around her mother a little longer than necessary...but Carmilla doesn't protest or try to pull away. Coughing and blushing a little, Vaggie lets go and rubs her arm sheepishly.

"Sorry!" Vaggie apologizes. "Sorry. I just missed you."

"It's okay. Come on in. The girls are setting the table."

The evening's spread is hot tamales, soup, and some vegetables for a side salad. Clara mentions that their mother also got up early that morning to fix some home-made ice cream before work. Vaggie looks over at Carmilla in surprise.

"Mama!" Vaggie says. "I didn't know you could cook!"

Carmilla waves her claw in front of her face in a dismissive gesture. "Oh please. It's nothing special. I let the servants take the day off, so I thought I'd make dinner myself. I also made eggs this morning...it wasn't my best work. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you girls. We don't do that enough."

Vaggie beams inwardly. Before really getting to know Carmilla, she never knew the overlord could be so thoughtful. She digs into her meal wholeheartedly. It's not exactly restaurant quality, or like the stuff Alastor makes for her and the other hotel patrons, but it's good nonetheless. Homely. Authentic. Made exclusively from the heart.

Odette and Clara offer to clean up after dinner. Vaggie thinks that her sisters are trying to give her some alone time with Carmilla. Maybe they can sense the tension she's holding inside. She'd been leaning forward in her chair throughout dinner, with horrible posture, unconsciously trying to make herself appear even smaller than she normally is. Her body language is probably a dead giveaway.

She can't hide from Charlie. She can't hide from Odette, Clara, or Carmilla, either. Maybe that's why Carmilla directs her into the fancy sitting room just off the kitchen. The one with all the comfortable lounge chairs and a sofa, with large, comfy pillows that are so soft, Vaggie practically sinks into them when she sits. Carmilla shuts the large French doors, to close them off from the rest of the house. Vaggie lies down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, and stares at a sparkling chandelier that dangles delicately above her head.

Carmilla lowers the lights in the room. Now the chandelier looks almost ethereal in the way it reflects the light from the dim bulbs. Vaggie can almost pretend like those sparkles reflected onto the ceiling are stars in a night sky. There is something that feels very cosmic and safe about her surroundings. Combined with the scent of Carmilla's potpourri that's scattered around the room, it just smells like her mother. Like how she feels a real home would smell on Earth after returning from a long and stressful day at school or work.

Carmila sits down next to her on the large sofa, putting Vaggie's feet in her lap to make room for herself. Vaggie almost gets up, but Carmilla shoots her a glance that says Don't you dare!

Carmilla leans back casually, with an arm stretched out along the back of the couch, using the furniture as leverage to arch her spine until Vaggie hears a pop! Then Carmilla groans in what can only be described as relief. She grins sheepishly down at her daughter, while Vaggie looks back at her coyly.

"Wow. Impressive," Vaggie chuckles.

"Pardon me. I know I'm dead, but these bones aren't what they used to be."

Vaggie laughs. "It's okay. Anyway...I hope I'm not imposing too much on you by coming over so late."

"Not at all," Carmilla assures her. "You know I love having you over. You said you had something to talk about? What's on your mind?"

Vaggie goes quiet for a moment. She does switch her position on the couch just then, trading her feet in Carmilla's lap for her head instead. She cuddles up into Carmilla, head laying over her thighs, while the matriarch begins running her long claws through Vaggie's hair again.

Vaggie had discovered early on in their new relationship that she loves having Carmilla comfort her in this way. She removes the bow from her hair, the one that Charlie gave her, to allow Carmilla better access. Carmilla cups her whole claw around the back of Vaggie's head, just holding it there, seeing how small the girl's head is in her large hand. Everything about the fallen angel is small. Except her innate kindness, and her indomitable spirit. Those are without measure.

"It's the wedding," Vaggie says, after letting the silence linger a little too long for her comfort. Carmilla resumes petting her hair. "I keep having nightmares about it. Charlie is so excited. And I am, too. But every time I think about it...the closer we get...I'm scared."

"Pre-wedding jitters are normal," Carmilla says matter-of-factly. "When I thought I was going to marry your father, I felt the same thing."

"Well, we know how that turned out," Vaggie teases, looking up at her. Carmilla pokes her side, tickling her, making Vaggie squeal and jump, almost hopping off the couch. "Wait, haha, no! Stop!"

"Don't test me, little girl," Carmilla teases back.

"I would never, Mama."

"Now," Carmilla says, trying to get back on track. "Talk to me. What's really going on?"

Leave it to Carmilla to detect that Vaggie's problem is more than superficial. Her problems are deeply buried, but Carmilla has a way of coaxing them out of her.

"I don't know," Vaggie responds, burying her head back in Carmilla's lap. "I was fine a few weeks ago. But the closer the day gets...the more the reality sets in that this is actually happening...I just worry Charlie is making the wrong decision. To be with me."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm just...me. And she's the princess of Hell. She's going to be queen someday. Maybe not for a long time, but still, that scares the fuck out of me. Eternity is a long time to be with someone. What if she gets...bored, or falls out of love with me? Like Lilith and her dad? I don't want that to be us, Mama."

Vaggie sits up. As she'd spoken the words, an overwhelming sense of anxiety had washed over her. Like as soon as her thoughts were out of her brain and let loose into the world, they'd become a living, tangible thing, threatening to gobble her up and swallow her whole.

She leans into Carmilla's side, pushing herself as close as she possibly can to the other woman. She tries her best not to cry. It's very difficult to hold back in Carmilla's presence. There is something so safe, and warm, and secure about the strength in Carmilla's arms as they wrap around her. Something that, despite how much she loves her fiancé, she just can't experience with Charlie.

Is this what a mother's love feels like? The type of steadfastness that can only come from the person who once supported and protected her as she grew in her own body? Who cherished and mourned her potential existence, even when she thought she'd lost Vaggie forever?

Vaggie never had a childhood. Doesn't know what that feeling is like, and doesn't know if she ever will. But she thinks she gets it now, at least. Why children can form such bonds with their caretakers. When that emotional attachment is so strong, nothing else can ever compare or replace it. Vaggie can't believe she had to die to experience some modicum of it, but she's counting her lucky stars now.

"I'm such a terrible partner," Vaggie says, wrapping her arms around Carmilla's waist, and letting the woman return the gesture. "I don't deserve her. I never did. I don't know why I thought this would work."

"Oh, mija, mija," Carmilla repeats, patting her back gently as Vaggie cries into her neck. "It's all right. I know this is a big change for you. Life-altering. But everything will be all right. I've seen the way Charlie looks at you. And when she asked me for my blessing, you should have seen her face. She has nothing but love in her heart. I doubt myself about many things, but please don't doubt me about this. Nothing will ever change the way she feels about you. I promise."

Vaggie hiccups a little, turning her head so she can feel Carmilla's warmth against her cheek. Carmilla wipes the tears falling from her eye. Her claws come away wet and salty, but Carmilla doesn't care.

"How can you possibly know that?" Vaggie asks.

"I'm your mother. I know everything."

Vaggie can't help but laugh a little at that.

Somehow, in some way, even though she's not totally convinced she's not an eternal, cosmically ordained fuck-up of a person, she's relieved that Carmilla, at least, doesn't buy into her bullshit. That she is convinced she and Charlie will work in the long-term is a comfort.

It will probably take Vaggie a long time...if not forever...to get over her own issues about herself. But Charlie...goddammit, Charlie...she loves that woman. More than she can characterize with feelings and more than words in a dictionary could describe. Her love for the daughter of the devil is everlasting. Unexplainable. Beyond the material.

If Carmilla belives it...hopefully she can. Someday. Preferably on the day that she says "I do." But if it doesn't come later, she will live vicarously through Charlie and Carmilla's combined faith in her. Their strength will see her through.

"I love you, Mama," Vaggie says, hugging Carmilla tighter.

"I love you, too, my baby," Carmilla responds, giving her daughter a lingering peck on the forehead.

Vaggie decides to spend the night again. She wants to talk to Carmilla more. About the wedding, and about other things. When she returns to Charlie the following day, she feels lighter, and more confident, than she's felt in a while.

She doesn't dream that night. No nightmares, or intrusive thoughts at all. Just a wonderful sense of wholeness, and a renewed vigor the following day, that she desperately needed. There's only a few days left until the ceremony. They have a lot of work to do, and seemingly not enough time to do it.

[ab4eva]

@precious-little-scoundrel a little anecdote for the Hollywood Hullabaloos 🤭

One time Ann and Elvis went on a motorcycle ride (I believe it was one of their first times doing so). Elvis told her to leave her purse at Graceland because she wouldn’t be needing it. So after a while of riding, they run out of gas. They find the nearest gas station and Elvis asks Ann if she has any money because Elvis was known for never carrying any money with him. Ann says no you told me to leave my purse at the house so they both crack up laughing. The gas station attendant makes a deal with Elvis: an autograph for gas. Elvis takes him up on this and then they’re on their way again. (One of the Memphis mafia did indeed return to that same gas station the next day to pay for said gas lol).

[fabledresources]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

a silly collection of quotes pulled from the podcast, the basement yard. feel free to adjust whatever's needed to better fit your muse.

do fake ids even exist now?

do you like dry burgers or wet burgers?

what kind of a question is that?

you and i are gonna have to bang one way or another.

if you were to put together a draft of people you wanna go out with, would i at least be on it?

you look like a rejected fruit roll up.

if you had stayed, i would have went anywhere with you.

my parents never talked to me about sex, ever!

don’t you dare say what you’re about to say.

you know you’re not my type, [name].

you’re not my type either!

how the fuck am i not your type?

i like them a little more rugged than you.

i think i could be exactly what you need.

i want you to want me.

i want this thing to cum in my mouth.

honestly it’s crazy that you can talk for that long and still be a bitch.

you know what’s stupid? mike and ikes. and fucking hot tamales.

fuck you and your mom.

i’ll kiss you right now! please ask me.

you’re fucking hot and you know it.

i plan on throwing the appropriate amount of ass just to get a piña colada.

you carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man.

you know how badly i wanna get pegged with a hot dog?

i’ve had my nipples sucked, but, like, as a joke.

why can’t you just be a person?

realistically, do you think, like, you and i could be lovers?

you say a lot of white people shit.

we’ll hug, we’ll kiss, we’ll make up, we’ll fist.

you’ll miss me when i’m gone one day.

you can’t fight dudes who are 5’3”, you gotta have a pillow fight.

every rose has her thorns.

you haven’t heard of the spiders?

don’t try to recreate it, go out on top.

i don’t care to the level of watching a video.

[ab4eva]

Elvis & Ann-Margret, part 1

[mallleus]

OMG i LOVE your headcanons of Stan with a Hispanic spouse and I wanned to rant a little bit since I'm from Costa Rica and wanted to share and know what you think about it, we have some desserts that I found funny for them to try out like the arroz con leche you can eat it hot or cold so it can be like el caldo de pollo but in dessert

-its okay chiquilines hay arroz con leche!

Dipper/Mable/Stan: :D

-Fresh out the olla!

Dipper/Mable/Stan: D:

There's also tamal de Maizena that looks kinda like yellow squares and it's pretty tasty, also the helado de sorbetera

Also in the parties telling Mable about the los dulces 15s and now making the dress and all for her future 15 party

Also disguising sometimes like for Halloween or to scare the Tourists in the shack dressed as la segua or el cadejos

And with the fun remedies my grandma have black tea, lime and honey to ease the throat and it does work or Do gargles with baking soda dissolved in water that works for Phlegm's

Also a specific for Stan, el cofal, it's a Muscle rubbing cream it's white and it really help for backache or Shoulder pain neck pain etc

Also thought in the "estan" to call him when the spouse it's angry, in my family it's the long full name so would be kinda like "ESTANLIIII PAAAAAAAINS"

I love this ask, send more Stan with Hispanic! Spouse reader

[igglemouse]

As sunlight streams through a few kitchen windows on an ordinary Tuesday morning, I find myself in my zone, right in front of a stove and preparing what hopes to be a delectable breakfast.

Today, my craving calls for a special oatmeal creation that only a chef's touch can perfect because I plan to fold in a generous amount of berries and a few swirls of cream, maybe even a sprinkle of cinnamon? Who knows, sometimes when it comes to cooking its more about a feel and a whim to create a symphony of flavors that will get my taste buds dancing and singing.

As for Pascal, he was busy working out. Always working out. That is one dedicated man but that is one of the main reasons I'm attracted to him. I do love a man that has a goal, that has something driving him and Pascal definitely fits that criteria.

After my breakfast and after his workout we meet up on the couch.

"I'm so happy that you've been staying over,” he starts. “You know, you can stay over as long as you like, right?”

"I think you've said that before,” I reply, but I do like hearing him say it again.

"Well, it's true! I don't mind you being over here. There are many pros and I can’t think of any cons but I guess there might be a few.”

"Oh? A few cons, really?" I challenge.

"Nah, just kidding, no cons at all now that I think of it."

"The pros then?"

"The food is always amazing and the company is somehow better than the food."

"And by company you mean?”  He gets just a little closer as I ask, close enough that our shoulders brush up against each other and he puts aside his patience and brings me in for a kiss... 

And he kissed until somehow some way my clothes were off...

After our little romp I was reminded that I'll be needing clean clothes for the week and for some reason the man doesn't have a washer or dryer. I think he mentioned that he relies on the equipment manager at the stadium or something? For a professional athlete, he sure does live modestly, I’m not sure if financially this is a good or a bad thing but lets go with bad since it leaves me here washing my own clothes in a bucket of water under the hot Oasis Springs sun. 

Being filthy rich was never my goal and I don't want to just tie myself to him in the hopes that his next contract will be the thing that makes him wealthy but...it wouldn't be so bad, would it?

At least there would be a washer and dryer.

Right after handling my laundry I receive a text from Irene. She's asking if she can come over to hang out. It is a good idea since I don't have much planned for today, so it would be great to catch up with her and spend some time together.

But that won't be till later as right now is about lunch.

The enticing aroma of tamales drags Pascal from presumably whatever workout he was in the middle of and right into the kitchen. A big goofy grin on his face contradicts the accusatory look of his eyes, directed right at me, or rather, past me and at the stove. "Actually, this is definitely one of the cons."

"Didn't you say earlier that my cooking was a pro,” I say, playfully desperate to defend myself but thankfully my tamales are ready to go to help in my defense.

"Yes, but your cooking will make me fat and slow. I'll be cut from the team in a few months!"

"Pascal! You told me you didn't want salads so-"

"Cut in a year, Frida, think about that..."

I just laugh because no way this guy is going to put on weight with how much time he spends on the treadmill and working out.

Right as I finish my lunch I’m pulled to the door by a gentle knock which I correctly assume is Irene. Seeing her does put a smile on my face and I hurry to wrap her into a hug because I feel like there is an instant connection between us.

Instead of inviting her inside I led her to the side of the house as the weather really was too perfect to stay inside. 

Irene was eager to talk about my food or more specifically, the tacos I had for sale.

"I absolutely adored them!" she tells me but I could tell just by the look in her eyes. “Just a very classic taste and texture to them and-”

"Some foods just don’t need much experimentation," I offer because its true. I don’t try to reinvent the wheel with my dishes I simply try to make the car go faster.

"You're right about that you know but I've been trying to spice things up, you know? Fusion tacos, trying to mix things up and create a signature dish."

"Oh, hows that been going? What about that man ummm...your boss?" Remember him, Martin Lucena? He tried to hire me and was very very upset when I told him no? 

"Yeaaaa, he's not much for experimentation," she says with a laugh and I think more about my run in with the man just last night. Hard to imagine ever working for him. "But you know, I do it on my own time. One day I'll be on my own, like you are, and having a signature dish or two will help me stand out."

"Hmmm," she has a point there. I could use a signature dish myself. After all, a flying car must be better than one that just goes faster, right?

It was nice to spend more time with Irene but the day grew late and left me with Pascal who was at this time making love to his treadmill once again. I decided to bother him and annoy him a little because why not? He was having none of it though and decided to use the art of telling corny jokes to fend me off. 

"Why did the striker bring string to the game?" he asked. I froze in pure fear of what the answer might be, pleading with a look for him to not continue. "He wanted to tie the game!"

I cringe, already throwing in the white flag. "Okay Pascal, I don't-”

"How does a player stay cool during the game?"

"Water?"

"No, they stand near the fans!" He said, jubilant, as if he had scored a championship winning goal.

"Why does-"

"Noope! You enjoy your workout!" I get out of there just in time. 

So yeah, I really am enjoying my time over here...

Frida Varela Index ~ Next 5.2

[notmyprey]

Alright, more silly casual thoughts. I feel like Zane would really enjoy preparing dishes to compliment his friends' specific tastes. He loves cooking, and making a special dish for each of the ninja based on their unique flavor sounds like such a sweet thing he'd definitely do. Bonus points if whichever ninja it's based on gets to serve as a fancy little garnish

Ok- all I could think of with this is Zane making a dish with Kai incorporated as a spicy element (I will hold my headcannon that he tastes like a hot tamale) and-

(Also I swear I am getting to my ask box, I am just busy recently so its a bit back loged right now)

[crystalofmoon19]

Día de los Muertos (Day of Death) - Striker x Mexican Catrina Reader! 🌼🌹💀

POV: You invited your boyfriend, Striker, to the Día de Muertos celebration with your family. Striker doesn't know much about the holiday, luckily you were there to help him.

"So you're saying you don't celebrate Halloween, darlin'?"

"No, mi amor, I celebrate "El Día de Muertos" with my family."

"The what?"

"The Day of the Dead, as they usually call them on this side of Wrath."

"Oh yeah, The Day of Death, I've heard of that. Is it the day where they dress up like skeletons?"

"Those are called the catrinas and the catrines, mi amor."

Striker looked at you a little confused, to which you just laughed, you had invited your boyfriend to celebrate the "Day of the Dead" with your family. Your grandma was preparing the food together with your aunts and your mom, your dad was preparing the altar with your uncle, your younger siblings were playing while painting their faces like skulls and you and your siblings close to your age were decorating your home. Around him, more people came to see the wonderful altar that you and your family had made together.

Striker, although he had accepted your invitation to spend the night with you and your family, he was still confused about the holiday, he knew of its existence but did not understand the great background behind it.

Luckily you were there to help him.

"What do you want to know about "El Día de los Muertos", mi amor?" .- You said caressing Striker's cheek, which made him rattle his tail like a rattlesnake and laugh a little, you knew how to make your boyfriend happy when he was disconcerted.

"Well, sugarcube, I'd like to know what exactly you're celebrating? And why are you celebrating death?"

"You know what? I think I'd better show you! Come on, Striker! Do you want to see my family altars?" .- You took your boyfriend's hand and your eyes lit up like stars.

"I'd love to, darlin'. Besides, I can't say 'no' to your pretty face."

"Okay let's go!"

You led Striker running out of your house and took him to where your father and uncle were, they greeted you and your boyfriend, you told them that you were going to show Striker your family altar. To which your dad, a little distrustful of Striker, admitted that he doubted your idea, but in the end you convinced him to give in so your dad and your uncle left for a moment; although your father gave Striker a questioning look and made him adjust his hat a little nervously but you comforted him by taking his hand.

"Look, Striker, this is the tradition of the Día de los Muertos, the altar; here we place a photo of our relatives who have passed away and on this day it feels like they come to visit us. Because as long as we remember them, they will continue to live on our hearts!" .- You put your hand to your heart while you continued explaining.

"In addition to the photos, we place candles to light the way of their arrival, we put the cempasúchil flower..."

"The flower of what...?" .- Striker interrupted you, confused about the Spanish name of the flower, to which you just laughed.

"It's the marigold flower, Striker!"

"Oh, good. Go on, darlin'."

"The name of this flower means "twenty flowers" or "several flowers." Its yellow color made our ancestors associate it with the sun. That is why they always placed them in their offerings!" .- You explained, putting a cempasúchil flower in your hair and smiled. Now Striker had no doubt that you were a radiant sunshine in his eyes.

"We also place typical food of the festival such as bread of the dead, tamales, hot chocolate, candy skulls and the favorite food of the beloved one who has the altar. For example, my grandpa loved my grandma's enchiladas, that's why they're here! So you better not try to eat anything!" .- When you looked towards Striker, he was already about to take one of the snacks from the offering. His snake-like appetite may have gotten the better of him but you weren't going to allow him to eat anything.

"Striker!" .- Your hand slapped Striker's hand who was about to steal a candy skull.

"What? We can't waste food!"

"It's not wasted food if it's for those who come to visit us! Plus if you're hungry we can go eat, I'm sure my grandma already has the food ready."

And said and done, your grandma called everyone to eat, with this you indicated Striker to follow you to the dining room of your house. So when they entered, the table was full of delicious food, which included pozole (a broth seasoned with vegetables such as corn, chili and meat), mole (a sauce that is a combination of several types of sauces seasoned with chili peppers and spices), and tamales (food made from corn, filled with various ingredients, cooked in a package of vegetable leaves).

"Hey darlin'?"

"Si, mi amor?"

"Are you sure your family isn't from Gluttony, instead of Wrath?"

"Why do you ask, mi vida?"

"Because I see that you and your family eat a lot, and you have also served me a lot of food." .- Striker said, satisfied with his food but that he still had not been able to finish his plate. To which you just laughed.

"And wait until you eat the bread of the dead with the atole, mi amor."

"IS THERE STILL MORE?"

"Ay mijo, you are so thin, you should eat more!" .- This time your grandma spoke, serving Striker more pozole, which made him throw his head back, although she thanked your grandma for this. You just laughed softly.

"If you're not from Gluttony, then you must have like three stomachs, right?"

"Yeah, something like that." .- You said enjoying your food while your family also ate theirs. Although Striker still couldn't stop looking at the huge appetite your family had, he had seen many Wrath imps be hungry, but you and your family were on another level.

However, Striker did not mind this trait of you or your family, on the contrary he was grateful that your family was very warm to him (perhaps with the exception of your father) since they let him be there as part of one of them, He also felt that this had been one of the best meals he had had in a long time. There were days when he would only eat a can of beans or instant noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and now having an entire feast with you and your family was something that had warmed his heart as well as his stomach.

So Striker took advantage of the fact that no one was looking to hold your hand under the table, which made your cheeks turn pink, and you also held his hand while they ate.

Later, when they finished eating, it was already starting to get dark and you told Striker to take care of your little brothers while you waited in the living room. Clearly the rattlesnake demon was quick to protest.

"Hey, I'm not gonna-!"

"Do it!" .- You gave Striker an angry look and how he already knew that if he didn't obey you it would end up with him sleeping on the couch for a week or more.

"Fine." .- The rattlesnake demon said resignedly as he watched you climb the stairs of your house in the company of your sisters.

"Just wait until I finish getting ready. I won't be long!" .- You told Striker until you went up to the second floor of your house. But Striker knew that when you said that, it was actually going to take a long time, so he just resigned himself to taking care of your little brothers while he waited.

Which wasn't an easy task, Striker wasn't one to take care of children, but your little brothers were getting on his nerves. Since they started running around the room and even though the cowboy scolded them not to do it, they did it anyway and one of them stole his hat.

"Give that, you little one!" .- Striker said annoyed while only your little brother made fun of him by sticking out his tongue and putting on his hat even though it was too big for him.

The only one who didn't seem to cause Striker any problems was your little sister, who was the youngest of the family, barely being about two years old, as soon as she had found Striker's leg she clung to his. For a second Striker calmed down a little for the baby, he even carried her to his chest, everything was fine until the baby started crying.

Striker complained loudly, he swore that he would be careful not to have as many children with you, at least in the amount that your parents had. He really felt that time flew by when he was taking care of your little siblings, although he was able to retrieve the hat from him he still wasn't enjoying this and when he was close to catching one of them that's when he saw you coming down the stairs. stairs.

You were dressed as a catrina, where you had made up your face as if it were a skull, you combed your black hair in a braid and you were wearing a red dress with an opening on your right leg that was decorated with yellow flowers very similar to the cempasúchil flower that decorated your entire outfit. You were also wearing red shoes along with a red hat that matched your dress and was decorated with flowers and pink feathers.

Striker when he saw you, his tail stood on end and his eyes widened when he saw how beautiful you were, you had practically left him speechless by your beauty.

"Y/N! You look so pretty!" .- One of your little brothers said when he saw you.

"Gracias." .- You thanked your little brother as you went down the stairs and headed towards where Striker was.

"How do I look, mi amor?"

"You look like a real angel in hell, darlin'." .- As soon as you approached him, Striker had taken your hand to kiss it, to which you laughed.

"Gracias, mi amor." .- You smiled at your boyfriend, who now approached to kiss you, but you stopped him with your hands while you laughed.

"Eww!" .- Your little brothers said in chorus for the show of affection.

"Not in front of my little siblings, Striker!"

"Why not? They are not your dad."

Without warning your dad appeared and stared at you and your boyfriend, this made Striker eat his own words and with that he distanced himself from you. You reassured your father that everything was fine and with a lot of effort on your part, you managed to get your father to leave you alone, with this done you had fun with Striker for the rest of the night.

There was a moment when you returned to your grandpa's altar, there you noticed that Striker behaved differently than usual, so you asked him what was happening. To which he in response tipped his hat to you.

"Is something wrong, mi amor?"

"I... I'm very grateful to you and your family for showing me the "Día de Muertos" holiday, did I say that right?" .- He asked you, seeking your approval in the pronunciation of his Spanish.

"Yes, that's fine."

"Well, I also enjoyed how well your family treated me, the delicious food I ate, and seeing you more beautiful than ever." .- He said caressing your cheek to which you smiled and took the hand he was caressing you with.

"Oh, mi amor, I'm glad to know that you liked the celebration."

"And I want to show you somethin' too, darlin'." .- He removed his hand from your face to take out a somewhat neglected photo from his jacket pocket and showed it to you.

At first you couldn't tell who it was, it didn't look like anyone you'd ever met, until when you looked closer at the photo you noticed that it was a snake demon. She was a young woman, with a green scale and snake fangs but she had white hair, when she saw her eyes that were an intense yellowish green you immediately knew how much the woman looked like Striker.

"Striker, is that your…?"

"Yes, that's my ma'." .- Striker answered you before you finished asking.

You looked closer and compared her to Striker, the resemblance was undeniable, you were sure that if Striker was a full snake demon she would completely resemble his mother.

"Mi amor, I haven't seen your mother before, what happened to her?" .- You tried to sound as soft as possible, but you still couldn't stop Striker from lowering his gaze a little.

"She was murdered by royalty." - Striker said with some resentment in his voice.

"I'm so sorry, mi amor. I had no idea." .- You put one hand to your mouth and another to your heart surprised.

"It's okay, darlin'. I didn't want to tell you about my ma' before either, because I didn't think you were close to those deceased relativies until now." .- This time Striker sounded a little more understanding, leaving his resentment for royalty aside and he did something you hadn't seen him do before; he took off his signature red handkerchief and handed it to you.

"Striker, what are you doing-?"

"This used to be my ma's and she gave it to me when I became independent enough from her." .- Striker explained, adjusting his hat again while he looked at you.

"Listen, darlin'. Before I met you, I used to think that life was something to be taken for granted, and death was the only way to give value to a life. When I was in a near-death situation I would run away fearing for my life; but when I met you, you gave value to my life and taught me the purpose of this holiday, I remembered ma' and the good times I had with her." .- You noticed how your boyfriend's tone of voice had changed and it was the first time that he was vulnerable to you in this way and you were going to support him.

"Your mother is here, Striker. She will continue to live as long as you remember her in your heart, and when you remember her you will always feel the warmth of her, but it is similar to the love you feel when you are with your loved ones." .- You said, putting your hand on Striker's chest and smiling at him with your warmest smile while still holding the photo and his handkerchief in your other hand.

"Can you feel her?"

"I think… I can feel her."

You smiled as you silently handed Striker the photo of his mother and placed his handkerchief around his neck. The rattlesnake was nostalgic. This gesture had not worn his handkerchief like that since he was a child. It reminded him of his mother, you may not have been a snake demon like her but you still had the same love that she gave and you gave it to him as his lover.

Striker moved much closer to you and you gladly accepted it, moving closer until his lips were a few centimeters away.

"Can I-?"

"Yes, you can." .- It was your turn to interrupt your boyfriend so that you could give him a kiss on your lips and he gladly reciprocated while both of you put your tails together and your hats fell to the ground but that didn't matter to you now.

You had a "telenovela kiss" with Striker, like he was taken from a clip of a Hell-a-Novela episode with Gabriella kissing Alejandro. After the party you told Striker that next year you were going to prepare an altar for his mother and he couldn't but agree with that and even told you that he was going to help you do it as long as you told him how to do it. one.

Thanks to you he not only now had a new favorite holiday and now he could always honor the memory of his mother thanks to you.

[mavrintarou]

[4:03PM] Geto Suguru

First Geto Suguro - if you haven't seen the newest season of JJK - he is one hot tamale.

Warning: explicit smut; Y/n has... an interesting curse technique; angst - spoiler . Y/n was always cast aside as her curse energy was little to none and everyone found her useless. She was merely kept in their midst solely due to being the last surviving member of her bloodline.

To her delight, she preferred that they ignored and excluded her, she cherished the moments when everyone left her undisturbed. Nothing appealed to her more than being left alone, engrossed in her books, with no interruption.

However, the higher-up was determined to maintain their control over Y/n, they were patiently anticipating the manifestation of her curse energy and technique.

“Her bloodline ends with her… surely Y/n will manifest the greatest curse technique when the time comes.”

. .

Y/n entered her apartment and hooked her keys on the rack. Under her breath, she barely murmured, “Yami yori idete yami yori kuroku, sono kegare o misogiharae.” An invisible shield immediately locks down the perimeter of her apartment.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she muttered out loud. She hung her jacket in the closet when she finally saw him emerge from the dark corner.

Geto Suguru.

She has been informed of his heinous crimes, and the substantial bounty placed on his head if he was ever sighted.

Cherry Blossom, emerged out from the wall to her left, whimpering, “he is too strong master…”

Y/n lift her hand, patting the cursed spirit on the head, “he is an old friend, sorry, I hope he did not hurt you or the others?”

Cherry Blossom whimper, “he ate Smelly…”

Y/n cast a glare at Suguru, “really?”

Suguru threw his hands up in defense, “my bad, I didn’t know he was one of your curses.”

“Guardians! We are her guardians!” Cherry Blossom shouted, before cowering and apologizing to her master for her sudden outburst.

“It is okay, Cherry. You may go back, I’ll handle him.” Y/n assured with a smile.

The blue-gray curse disappears into the wall, entrusting her master. Y/n can feel her other curse spirit friends retrieving as well.

Once they were out of her sight and presence, she cast another veil, not only for privacy but to protect any potential lurking eyes and ears that might be following Geto.

The first time Geto witnessed Y/n’s curse technique, he was dumbfounded. The shy and meek petite girl fooled everyone behind her thick-rimmed glasses and books.

Geto was assigned to a mission alone to hunt down an unknown grade curse spirit that has been spotted at one of Shibuya’s hottest nightclubs. He walked down the corridors to the private room in the VIP area. As he neared, he opened the room and found a couple inside.

It took a second for him to realize what was going on. They were fucking. The man had the woman against the wall, thrusting hard that the room echoed with nothing but her moans and skin slapping skin. Her moans could be heard even with the loud music echoing in the background.

They didn’t seem to acknowledge him or sense his presence.

It was him, Geto thought to himself, the cursed spirit. When he got the mission and read the case file that numerous women have disappeared without a trace. Now it made sense, it was a sex-cursed spirit behind the missing women case.

Geto released a weary sigh, unfastening his sleeve cuffs and rolling them up. He couldn’t help but groan inwardly, feeling the discomfort of interrupting such an intimate moment. However, just as he was about to speak, his gaze connected with the woman, who met his eyes head-on.

His eyes narrowed in confusion but quickly widened with disbelief as he recognized her before him. He couldn’t believe his own eyes at the unexpected revelation.

Y/n’s head tilted back against the wall, her mouth echoing soft moans and she pressed a finger to lips, silently gesturing him to remain quiet and standby.

Suguru blinked repeatedly, making certain he wasn’t caught in a hallucination. Yet, every time he opened his eyes, there she was: Y/l/n Y/n, the last person he least expected to encounter.

He felt his cock jolt when she smirked at him. He watched her legs wrap around the man’s waist, tightening her arms around his shoulders and whimpering loudly, “cum, cum inside me… give me your cum.”

Suguru had to look away, feeling his cheeks flushed. He was getting turned on by the second. He didn’t need to see the rest of it, he heard the man finish, groaning and Y/n crying in bliss.

Seconds later, he heard a thump on the floor. His eyes bulge out watching the man disintegrate into the air.

“What… the fuck?” His eyes couldn’t leave Y/n’s naked body as she slipped her tight dress back on. “Care to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

She tidied herself up before responding. “I took down a cursed spirit, no big deal,” Y/n said casually, walking up to him as if a few seconds ago, she had not just taken an unknown cursed spirit down by draining their cum dry.

“Wh – what?” he stuttered, caught off guard. Her small hand pressed against the pecs of his chest and they slide down to his abdomen. “Y/n…” her name came out like a choke more than a warning.

“Want to find out?” She looked up at him with eyes that made his knees weak.

“A – about what?”

“My curse technique?”

“H – how?”

“I’ll show you,” she whispered, and his eyes screamed yes.

She pushed him onto the couch and straddle his lap, her lips pressed against him while her hands worked at the belt buckle.

“Y/n,” Suguru breathed when she broke off the kiss and scoot off his lap, she tugged his briefs freeing his cock that was hard and aching. Before he could utter a word, her mouth was already wrapped around the tip. “Fuck…” he groaned, head tilting back against the couch. His eyes struggle to stay open as her head bobbed on his lap, he felt himself melting into a puddle before her touch.

That’s when he realized… she was feasting off his curse energy.

He did nothing to stop her.

Her mouth releases his cock with a pop and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Y/n repositioned herself on his lap, pulling her panties to the side and rubbing herself against the tip of his cock.

“Y/n,” Suguru murmured, a hand trailing up her waist to her chest. He felt himself draining by the second but he wanted to remember this moment, wanted to hang long enough to feel her pussy wrap around his cock. “Please…” His hooded eyes only followed her as she leaned closer until their lips barely touched.

Suguru quickly leaned up to kiss her, but was a second too slow as Y/n backed away with a playful smile on her lips before he could kiss her. With the last ounce of strength he had, one hand gripped her upper arm and the other snaked behind her neck, pulling her down to kiss him.

Y/n moaned into his mouth and dropped her weight, taking in his cock until he was fully sheath inside of her.

Instantly, Suguru felt a surge of energy through his body. His grip tighten around her arm and tighten the root of her hair, as he tugged her head back, breaking their kiss, his lips trail down her jaw and neck.

“Su… garu…” Y/n moaned, rocking her hips.

His grip loosened, and he leaned back and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes are a vibrant emerald green, a color he was sure was not her natural color.

As if he was silently evaluating her, Y/n answered him.

She began rolling her hips, gradually increasing her speed.  

Suguru’s hand move to grip her hips, guiding her to bounce on his cock, his hips were meeting hers, thrusting deep and harder. Her cursed energy surged into him, kindling a blazing power within his very being.

He craved more and more.

Y/n gasped, being flipped onto her back with Suguru peering down at her. He widened her legs and continue to thrust.

He cursed, “you feel so… fucken tight… so good…” he felt his sack pulsing, ready to cum inside her.

“Cum inside me,” Y/n begged, affectionately touching his face.

As if her words were laced with magic, Suguru came hard, his hips struggling to stop even as he shot his cum deep into her womb. He couldn’t stop, wanting to continue to feel his cock stretch out her tight pussy. Her walls flutter and squeezed against his cock, milking every last drop out of him.

Suguru finally halt his movement, breathing hard and staring darkly into her eyes. He understood her cursed technique now.

Y/n possessed the ability to not only absorb cursed energy but also enhance it, amplify one’s cursed energy through sexual intimacy.

She fueled most of her cursed energy by hunting down semi-grade 1 or higher cursed spirits. She will seduce and have sex with them, absorbing their energy through their orgasm. She had the ability to manipulate and control cursed spirits much like Suguru, the only difference is she has cursed spirits submitting at her beck and call – wanting and willing to be her servant for a bit of her energy through any sort of physical intimate gesture whether it be through a simple pat on the head or a simple caress. She receives most of her cursed energy through sexual intimacy.

Suguru has never experienced such a potent surge of energy coursing through his veins; it felt as though every fiber of his being was fully charged.

Since then, he would come to her, seeking physical intimacy from her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Y/n said a second time, standing six feet away from him.

The wanted man stepped forward but was hit with an invisible force shield. That was another one of her specialties, she had the ability to create an invisible force shield as wide and far as sixty-five kilometers.

“Don’t be like that,” Suguru pleaded, pressing his large hands against her shield. “I need you… you’re all I have.”

“You should have thought about that before you became a wanted man.”

“I just want to be wanted by you.”

Y/n won’t deny the sexual connection she has with Suguru. It was a win-win relationship. His technique allowed her to feast and fuel on the cursed spirits he orally ingests, just as she can amplify his cursed energy through sex.

She draw back her shield and Sugar stepped forward into her safe zone. He cupped her face, while his other hand wrapped tightly around her waist. “Come with me, follow me.” His mouth hovers over hers, waiting for her reply. “Together, we can create a world… a new world…”

Y/n shook her head, “leave me out of it, ‘Guru.”

He loved the nickname she gave him, it already made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Fair enough,” he suspected her answer and respected it. Suguru does not know what the future holds and truthfully, he didn’t want her to be entangled in his plans, but he couldn’t completely let her go either. He had recently come to realize that his feelings for her went beyond using her as a mere vessel to fuel his cursed energy. Although she never voiced it, her actions demonstrated a genuine concern and care for him. “But don’t abandon me, please.”

She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

His lips kissed hers softly until she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Suguru easily lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to her room and gently placed her on her bed.

Their clothes scattered all over in seconds as he pressed the tip of his cock to her pussy, impaling her slowly.

Neither of them spoke, silence enveloped them both, as neither had the desire to broach the truth of how this encounter could potentially be their final meeting.  

It suddenly made perfect sense to her why he had been usually gentle towards her lately, treating her as delicately as if she was a fragile flower. He held her tenderly with the hands that had killed hundreds.

“Suguru,” Y/n moaned, pressing his forehead against hers, I love you.

“Y/n,” he called her name with the same gentleness, he thrust deeply, groaning against her mouth, I love you too.

He made love to her repeatedly until the morning. She lay in his arms, pressing a kiss to his heart.

Hours later when she woke up, he was gone.

Months later, tears spill from her eyes as Gojo Satoru stood before her. In Gojo’s palms were Suguru’s black circle earrings.

Her hands trembled as she took them from his palm, her fingers closing around them.

Her other arm encircled her bulging belly, providing a secure embrace for their unborn child that nestled within.

. . .

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