#no! we like them losers.

[attonitos-gloria]

zava has to get out of the team in the middle of the season (probably the next episode) because otherwise Richmond would easily be the champions of the premier league, and no one signed up to this show to see our chaotic failboys winning because of one egocentric asshole.

[spkyart]

Feel free to yap all you want

[bluepandadraws-log]

Ragapom Nation, how we doin'?

[molinaesque]

Astarion: I think he likes us. Tav: I like him, too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face. Raphael has a crush on Tav and tries real hard to act cool about it.

[loser-jpg]

FUCK EVERYONE WHO SAID ANGEL WAS GONNA BE THE ONE TO DIE HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH THAT SILLY SPIDER BOYS GONNA LIVE FOREVER AND HES GONNA HAVE THE MOST SICKENINGLY SWEET SLOW BURN LOVE STORY WITH THAT STUPID GAMBLING CAT

[gunsatthaphan]

"what are you doing?"

[syoddeye]

down the hatch

141 x reader, featuring a smidgen of soapgaz in this bit. ~1.5k words.

part one | two | three

tags: poly141, soapgaz depicted. reader is a little cuckoo for coco puffs after being alone for three months. voyeurism. half-assed masturbation. a gun. kind of crackfic, kind of not.

banner from @/cafekitsune

“we’re not gonna hurt you,” ballcap insists, crouching to open the cupboard under the sink.

“just a little,” dry bones adds, not bothering to lower his voice.

“he’s lying, kitty, swear we won’t hurt you.”

holed up in the surveillance room, you listen over the crackling feed through the attached headset, absolutely fuming. panicking, too, but the door is shut and locked. the seal blends with the maintenance room’s panels, and the button to open it is hidden in the electric panel. the bunker’s build, many cameras, and folding bunks in the second bedroom suggest the austrian had long-term plans to repopulate earth or intended to abduct others but ran out of time.

either option would’ve blown, but now, his paranoia and apparent voyeurism came in handy. the stupid, unwashed idiots look dumb as hell crawling around looking for you.

after a while, they assemble in the kitchen and spend the next hour taking inventory. they are not impressed by the yanni collection, but they are intrigued by the bed you stopped making and the half-completed puzzle of the eiffel tower. you snarl as ballcap completes one of the corners. fucking uncivilized freaks, trampling all over puzzle etiquette. if you didn’t have the external feed and a pile of hardened ooze for proof, you’d know the world had gone to hell in a handbasket. depraved.

eventually, scragglebeard rustles up dinner. it’s obscene, the amount of food he uses. the men lounge and luxuriate in your kitchen and your living room. it doesn’t look like they’ve struggled for much. they eat like a pack of feral dogs when presented with a stew and mash. mohawk produces a half-full bottle of liquor, and the four nitwits have the nerve to toast the discovery of their new home.

a growl from your stomach tempers your outrage. you didn’t consider supplies when you hid. just survival.

the men laze after their meal.

“gonna go have a shower.” mohawk announces, slapping his thighs as he stands.

“thank christ.” dry bones jeers.

“join me?”

you straighten in the swivel chair. that's unexpected.

“nah, i’ll go later.”

“is it an open invite?” ballcap asks.

“always.”

“warm it up for us, then.” 

you won’t use the cameras that the austrian installed in the bathrooms—that’s crossing a line. then, a minute later, ballcap follows mohawk, and walks right past the three-quarter-finished eiffel tower. you think, vive la france, joie de vivre, or whatever.

a pity the cameras in the bathrooms don’t have speakers. the lens is a bit foggy, but the view is decent. the men waste no time stripping.

the camera sits in a vent, points through the grate, and into the showers. they’re in the stall closest to the door, convenient. mohawk pins ballcap to the slick tile, his hands gripping the other man’s hips so tight you see his knuckles whitening. desperate thing.

it’s kind of boring after a few minutes. mostly mohawk sloppily kissing and nipping at ballcap’s mouth and lips, occasionally detouring down his neck. their junk is mostly hidden at this angle, presumably slippery from the shower and all the dry-humping. wet-humping? ballcap kneads the fat of mohawk’s ass, his eyes fluttering when a particular patch of his throat gets attention. 

fuck, okay, maybe this is more titillating than you originally thought. you adjust in the chair, finding the seam of your jorts (craftily fashioned from men’s jeans you found in a closet), and slowly grind along it. it’s lazy, but you’re not gonna stick your hand down your pants if this is all you’re getting.

and as if reading your mind, mohawk breaks from ballcap’s grip and sinks to his knees. his juvenile haircut flops flat under the water, but ballcap’s dick sure doesn’t. even through the sub-optimal camera feed, you know it’s pretty. the way mohawk immediately hones in confirms, licking up the underside and palming his sack. when he finally gets his mouth to the good part, you unbutton your fly, shove two fingers in your mouth, and lean back. 

near-constant masturbation lost its novelty around week three, but it's like riding a bike. you manage a few good, firm circles, beckoning heat out of hibernation when sudden movement on the camera startles you right out of a lovely, burgeoning haze.

fuck bucket. ballcap has mohawk hoisted by the armpit, their abandoned cocks practically wagging. he’s rapidly speaking and pointing right at the fucking vent. how the hell he spotted the tiny red light, you don’t know, but dry bones and scragglebeard stumble into the bathrooms moments later. 

dry bones disappears beneath the frame, and the camera shakes slightly as the vent cover comes off. he steps back, mouth moving beneath his mask, and the four men exchange looks.

scragglebeard speaks as the naked men hastily dress, then start a second sweep of the bunker. this time, armed with the knowledge that somebody’s watching, they don’t split up. they move as a unit.

you watch in horror as they upend the bunker. they move furniture, poke outlets, and empty all the shelves to feel for switches and levers. distantly, you think you would’ve made for a decent escape room operator in the before times. you stifle a mad laugh at the idea, nearly choking when they finally enter the maintenance room.

hand pressed to your mouth, you breathe shallowly as they search. they’re more careful, skipping the electric and valves altogether, probably afraid if they fuck with anything too much, the power or water will go out. they check the ridges between the panels, and you hold your breath as dry bones runs his fingers along the hidden seal.

he stops and peels off a glove. pressing his palm to the secret door’s front, he hums. he glances over his shoulder, directly into the camera, then at scragglebeard. 

“the wall’s warmer here.”

“think there’s something behind it, lt?” mohawk asks. 

lt. initials?

mohawk shoulders dry bones out of the way, pressing his full cheek to the panel and paws at the metal. you freeze, unsure if you’re breathing at this point.

“think it’s residual heat from wiring.'' mohawk finally concludes, pulling away with a shrug. ‘lt’ looks unconvinced, and scragglebeard itches at his namesake.

“it’s gettin’ late. let’s bed down, look again in the morning.”

“you’re not worried someone’s watching us, sir?”

sir? ooh, is it like that? kinky.

“no. if they are, they know we’re armed and in good health. ‘sides. we’re going to cover them.”

your mouth dries. no. no. no. no. fuck, your one advantage. 

the men file out, and lt leaves last. he fishes a strip of cloth from a pocket and stuffs it around the camera’s base, obscuring its view.

“gonna find ya.” he mutters.

one by one, they cover the cameras they’ve found, leaving you with only three. thank you, austrian freakshow, for not skimping on surveillance. you still see the living room, a sliver of the kitchen, and the maintenance hall. it’s not much, but it’s enough to inspire a plan.

you watch the men turn in for the night. you’re not stupid, though. you wait an hour and a half until there’s no further movement, and the bunker’s dark. it’s now or never.

sneak out. grab food, water, and a kitchen knife. flee the bunker. easy.

if it’s still standing, your old one-bedroom rental is a short distance away. you’ll fortify it, then work on luring the rats out of your nest.

tiptoeing past the bedrooms, at least two of the men saw logs. ugh. didn’t miss that in the apocalypse. 

in the kitchen, you gather supplies. tins of tuna, soup, and vienna sausages. the last potatoes. some protein bars. a reusable water bottle. salt and pepper. (spices and seasonings are on the top of your scavenging list.)

satisfied, you tie the corners of your makeshift bindle together and turn to head to the entrance point when your eyes drift over a small shape in the dark. there, atop a side table in the adjoining living room, is a handgun.

in theory, you know how to use it. you logged a good thousand hours on goldeneye 007 as a kid. loads more effective than the paring knife in your hand.

you creep toward it, eyes widening and heart racing. could use on the interlopers while they sleep. but how would you get their bodies out of the bunker? you don’t want to training montage until your muscles swell, not with their corpses doing the same thing in the spare bedroom.

no. much more useful out there. you reach for it.

and somebody reaches for you.

a hand closes around your forearm, squeezing hard to force you to drop the knife, and another wraps around your head, hand clamping over your mouth before you can cry mon dieu. 

the wrapped cans clatter and smash to the ground in the struggle. a deep voice, harsh in your ear and tinged with insufferable smugness, whispers. 

“told ya i was gonna find ya.”

[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

[yeonjune]

Yeonjun about the strain he felt while preparing for his debut solo project ✙ "GGUM" MAKING FILM

[shhroomer]

Oh, help me God, this hellboy got me coming back for more

reblogs super appreciated !!! close-ups under the cut !

[fire-in-my-woods]

"What am I?"

"You're alive."

[satanghulu]

rose-tinted glasses

✦ PAIRING: satan x g!n reader ✦ SUMMARY: writing this because i didnt get that damn satan card where he was wearing glasses; satan & reader are NOT in an relationship, but there’s pining <3 also fluff! ✦ WC: 1.6K

| MASTERLIST

══════════════════

“You’re not wearing your contacts today?” 

Manicured fingers dig into the sides of his cheek as Asmo peers closely at the frame covering his eyes. Satan begrudgingly lets the fifth brother tilt his face sideways as he does mental inner meditation to not slap the offending hands off.

For good measure, he shakes Satan’s head a few more times before letting go. 

“Why the sudden change?” Asmo questioned, as Satan brought up a hand to touch his jaw.

There were slight indentations along his jawline from where Asmo’s manicured fingers had touched; Satan crossed his arms across his chest and huffed.

Patience.

“Just felt like it.” 

Asmo snorted. 

“No other reason?” He looked knowingly at Satan, a sly smile playing on his lip.

“Look, those frames are too big on your face.” Asmo pauses and turns back to his vanity to pry open one of his various drawers. He digs through it, looking for something. 

“Use this. They complement your face shape better.”

Satan barely catches the pair of glasses flying towards him. If Asmo had put his mind to channel his athleticism, Satan reckons that he would be almost on par with Beel. Asmo closes his drawer, turns to the mirror, and grabs a lipstick from the table to continue his routine. He gestures for Satan to put the pair on.

“Do these even have a degree?” He puts the glasses on, taken by surprise when his vision remains as clear as ever.

Asmo laughs, the sound tinkling pleasantly through his ears even as he continues to rummage through his vanity for something else.

“Those are in your degree. I had them made for you.”

The question, “Why did you have them in my degree?” flashes briefly in his mind but he swallows it back down.

“Thanks.”

Asmo waves him off, still looking at himself in the mirror. Understanding he was dismissed, Satan turns to leave the room.

“Wait! Before you go, which shade matches better?” The Avatar of Lust holds up two lipsticks close to his face. Staring at them, Satan wonders what even is the difference.

“The one on the right.” He took a wild guess, the chosen lipstick seemed to pull more pink against the fifth brother’s face. Also, you had once mentioned to him that pink looks the best on Asmo.

Asmo’s face breaks out into a wide grin, unscrewing the cap of the lipstick. This time, Satan quietly sneaks out of the room.

.

A hand on his shoulder jolts Satan out of his daydreaming.

“Hey, little brother--“ The voice started. “Wait, are yer wearing glasses?” A tuft of white hair blocks his vision as the culprit grabs him by the shoulder to shout in his ear.

It was deafeningly loud and noisy as expected.

Satan rolls up the newspaper he is holding and smacks the demon.

“Ow! Why didya do that for?” The secondborn’s lip twisted into a pout. “Seems like you’re fine. Can ya lend me money?” The newspaper in his hand came down for a second beating.

“Okay, okay! I won’t ask you for money!” Mammon tries to dodge the subsequent beatings but fails in doing so. 

“Geez, why are you so violent?” He grouches, rubbing at the top of his head. Satan brings up the offending object threateningly again. Mammon squawked loudly and raised both hands up in defense.

“That wasn’t me! Uh… That was the floor talking!” Satan looks pointedly at the carpeted floor before trailing his eyes back up to his older brother. He wonders if there is a brain inside that empty vessel called his head.

“Anyways, why do you need money? Again.” His eyes twitch as he tries to unroll the newspaper so that he can pretend to read and simultaneously disregard his brother's existence in the room.

Mammon’s mouth opens to explain.

“Actually, scratch that. I don’t need to know.” He brings the newspaper up, covering the second eldest brother’s face from his vision. He watches Mammon’s leg bounce up and down from beside him.

“Yo.” The couch dips beside him, the furniture sinking under the weight of the secondborn.

Satan ignores him.

“Hey.” This time, Mammon pokes him on the cheek. Repeatedly.

Satan continues to ignore him.

“Are ya really ignoring your older brother?” Mammon huffed out in disbelief. He proceeded to curl his fist into a ball and punch Satan.

“Ow! What the hell, Mammon?” Satan rubs his shoulder once before turning to punch Mammon back.

“We’re already in hell, my dear younger brother.” Mammon simpers before his expression turns pained from the assault.

“Now that I finally got your attention.” He pauses dramatically. “Are ya’ like copying Lucifer or something? What’s up with the glasses?” 

Satan exhales once through his nose, then twice sharply. The mental meditation exercises that you had taught him were failing today.

“I’m giving you five seconds to run.” He says politely.

“Wha- Oh shit!” Mammon protested but he was already getting up from the couch to turn into his demon form as he ran away.

Ah, sweet silence.

He counts to ten seconds, enjoying the moment of peace. Satan then picks up the fallen object again and curls it up. When he finds Mammon, he will stuff his mouth with the newspaper and ensure he cannot open his mouth in the foreseeable future.

.

Satan slowly opens the door to your bedroom, padding in softly when he hears no sounds of protest. He hasn’t seen you even once today – your presence was needed at the Demon Lord Castle for an event which meant you had an early start to the day.

He wasn’t even sure if you had even eaten breakfast before you left. The silence left in your absence was largely felt and his heart squeezes at the thought of it.

“Hey.” The gentle shaking woke you up and the second thing you notice is the delicious aroma of food wafting from the tray he carries. 

You had collapsed on the floor, too tired to even change out from your outfit before knocking out. Now, you were facing the consequences of it. Your back was hurting and you could feel the dried saliva on the side of your mouth.

Timidly, you bring up a hand to wipe at it.

For a few seconds, Satan watches as you blink bearily at him.

“Satan?” 

He thinks you resemble a kitten when you stretch and yawn. It could partly be because he thinks they’re the cutest animals in the three realms, and you are the cutest in his eyes. He ran his thumb over your cheek as you leaned in closer to his touch. The sight was so heart-wrenchingly adorable, that it made him twitch in anger.

He slides the tray of food in front of you, watching as your face lit up in excitement.

“Soup?” The bowl was at your eye level as you inspected it closely. “Where did you learn this recipe?” You questioned, barely able to hold back your curiosity.

Satan pauses. He had gone over to Purgatory Hall, bothering Solomon for a human-world comfort soup recipe. Looking on the net was an option he had considered but ultimately, he decided that asking another human would be better. Solomon wasn’t the best in cooking — Satan had done further research into the recipe to perfect it. There were a few trials and errors but finally, he has found the opportunity to show it off to you.

“Online.” He bluffed, slightly miffed when you pulled away from his touch to reach for the cutleries. There was no way he was telling you the efforts he went through just to learn the recipe.

“Really? It must have been hard.” You said warmly, a smile tugging on the sides of your lips. A red tint stained his cheek and Satan wishes that he could just swoop in to give you a kiss. 

“Thank you.” You muttered, blowing the steam from the soup into his face playfully.

He continues to watch you fondly, as you continue on with your meal. Absentmindedly, he pushed the glasses on his nose up higher as it slid down his nose bridge.

The clattering of your spoon scares him, but before he could check in on you, you had already closed the distance and were now looking earnestly at his face.

“Glasses!” You said delightedly, face much too close to him. He could feel the blood rushing to his face even though he was pleased with this development.

He nods slowly, cheeks burning.

“But I thought you hated wearing glasses because it reminds you of Lucifer?” He was disappointed that you had moved back but at least, he was sure his heart wasn’t going to go into cardiac arrest anytime soon. 

“This pair is different.” He pointed at the frames adorning his face, peevish that you had mentioned the oldest brother in his presence.

You nod, agreeing with him.

“I’m glad you’re wearing glasses more often now.” You smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling upwards. “Like I said, I do think you look really handsome in them.”

His heart skipped a beat again.

The truth was that he had only dug out his only working pair of glasses because you had made a passing comment that you liked how he looked in them.

“Thanks.” 

He coughed awkwardly, gesturing to the tray.

“Are you done with the bowl? I’ll bring them to the kitchen.” You gave him that smile again, the one that makes his heart clench.

“No worries, I’ll bring it down myself.” 

The distinct aroma of your perfume fills his nose as you lean into his space with your arms open for a hug.

“Thank you.”

Satan could feel his mind running overtime and stopping in its tracks. He lost. He was utterly disarmed by your charms.

══════════════════

a/n ▸ satan is a walking fashion disaster, theres no way that asmo didnt switch out his pair for a nicer one. also im sorry for the influx of satan fics lately, been having the worst brainrot about this man suddenly </33333 (not true, the brainrot is always there) also this fic was born from this reblog i saw ;; it appeared again on my dash and i wrote this in one sitting LOL

[webdollzz]

I love when people do like loser au!ellie or loser!nerd!ellie, did we play the same game...no need for an alternative universe...that bitch already a loser nerd.

she collects SUPERHERO CARDS at NINETEEN mid apocalypse. she reads comics. she's hyperfixated on space, and loves to draw. my baby girl is the nerdiest loser ever. I love her.

[lets-go-banana-fishing]

My favorite kind of ship is the acts of service hoe finding a guy that got never taken care of and deciding to STEP UP

[k4r4ss]

I watched the trailer and immediately made up a fanfic in my head based on 0.75 seconds in which we were shown the Decepticon high command

[imagine-to-be-a-pike]

I will never forgive fandom how unfair it is about Arthur

Dark Merlin It's usually good angst. You know, Merlin had had enough. Dark Arthur? Arthur is a fucking rapist, a monster.

Merlin guilty? Merlin feeling guilty and comforted by the entire cast. Arthur guilty? Arthur doing the worst things possible and someone razing him to the ground

Merlin always gets these nice things. always flowers, courtship, everything. Found family? Everyone comforts Merlin because big bad Arthur. (literally almost every Merlin "found family" is everyone loves Merlin and treats Arthur like shit)

Merlin gets an apology. Arthur? My parents will love me faster than someone will apologize to Arthur in fanfiction.

"suicidal, self-harming Merlin" but Arthur has no right to have mental problems (a whole lot of people have wanted him dead since he was born)

Protectivr knights? Always about Merlin.

Even the fucking omegaverse. Alpha Merlin is a nice calm creature who pretends to be a beta. Alpha Arthur... wild animal, keep Merlin in a cage.

No. Just no.

(forever grateful to those stupid British people that arthur never told merlin he was fat. because the fandom understands that something is a comedy if merlin says it. if arthur it would be ,,abuse")