#oops! too lazy to deal with that sorry

[purpleartrowboat]

starting a new sketchbook, heres a dump of doodles from the one im leaving behind

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[amourjins]

✦ LATE NIGHT WALK? — k.mj

summary. a late night walk with your best friend, minji! ..except, theres a twist.

pair. non-idol!bsf!minji x fem!reader

content ahead. fluff, (best) friends-to-lovers, wlw, GAYS!!!!, theyre both silly, just a small bit of texting!

notes. RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA who couldve guessed! surprise !! take this while you wait for tg…cause ive been procrastinating it a LOT…. (not proofread as we all know.. i proofread on a good day [which is never])

you lie awake in bed as the time read 12:37. you sighed, you didnt want to go to sleep, but you didnt have anything else to do, either.

until, that is, you felt your phone vibrate—a notification. you first shrugged it off, thinking it was some random app you didnt use anymore, but was way too lazy to delete it. after a few seconds, you decided to see what it was, and to your surprise, the notification was a text from your the one and only, kim minji! aka your best(est) friend (ever).

you could feel your tiredness just disappear all in the span of that minute.

you immediately got up from bed once you hearted the text, turning the lights on as you walked to your closet. you didnt want to keep minji waiting, so you figured you would just keep it casual with a shirt and jeans or something.

once you finally got ready, you did some finishing touches before grabbing your phone and bag, and dashing out of there excitedly. when you exited your apartment complex, there she was, in all her glory—minji!

“minji-ah!” you whisper-shouted as you swore she turned her head to you in the blink of an eye. she took her hands out of her pockets and waved at you, smiling brightly. you rushed over, embracing her in a hug as she froze, blushing a little.

“hi!—” she giggled before hugging you back tightly. you let go after a few seconds, making her pout. you didnt notice, though. you were too busy looking around the streets of seoul, wondering where you two should head first.

“mm, follow me!” you spoke, which caught the tall girl off guard, but she immediately followed after you, catching up as she walked beside you. the night sky always had you mesmerized.. but there something—someone else that had you even more mesmerized.

and it was minji.

maybe you started to develop feelings for her over these past few months with her…

you were pretty much certain that she didnt like you back. and as much as that hurt, you had to deal with it. being best friends with her is enough already, and youre grateful. but at the same time, what if she liked you back? it would.. yeah itd probably hurt to confess. but it was now or never, right? now just seemed like the perfect moment.

“crosswalk, idiot!” she reminded as she halted your movements, making you snap out of your thoughts. “oops!.. sorry,” you looked away in embarrassment as she scoffed jokingly.

you silently turned your head back to her. she was looking at the sky, and the scenery around. god, she was insanely pretty. prettier than the scenery around. prettier than anything around.

you tapped her shoulder to get her attention once you were able to cross as you two crossed the street together. your hands suddenly brushed against each other slightly, and even that made minji blush.. you were both equally down bad for each other!

once at the other side, minji’s fingers crawled on your palm before she interlocked her hand with yours, the action making you stunned, but, you werent complaining. who would?

“all the stores are closed.. aw,” minji sighed, pointing at the stores to your left as you two walked past them after a few seconds. “but you know, the convenience stores are still open.” you spoke, as she let out an agreeing “oohh..” followed by a nod. “lets head there then? hope you dont mind the walk though..” she smiled. “as long as im with you, i wouldnt mind at all!” you grinned.

after a short 12 minutes of walking and talking, you guys finally arrived at the convenience store while still holding hands. minji was the first to step in as you came in right after, greeting the staff that stood at the register.

“so, yn..i have, uh,, something to tell you.” minji explained as you two walked out of the convenience store. you and minji spent a decent amount of time in there, talking while having snacks. you two had a great time, and she even paid for everything.. and when you thought you couldnt crush on her more than before.

“oh,” you gulped, suddenly nervous and sweat was trickling down your forehead as you nodded, “i have.. something to tell to you.. as well?” you questioned—yourself. she took a deep breath before continuing, “lets say it at the same time?

“yeah. same time.. same time,” you breathed.

���on 1, okay?”

“3 - 2 - 1–”

“i like you, yn!”

“i like you!”

“wait, what?” you awkwardly giggled, raising an eyebrow at minji. she had her head turned, obviously away from you. her face was bright red…and so was yours.

“..y—youre for real?” minji muttered, not daring to make eye contact. she was looking everywhere but your direction. “what do you think, idiot?” you joked.

“so,, were dating now, right?”

“yeah.. yeah!”

“ill walk you home then?”

“thats absurd, kim minji! spend more time with your new girlfriend, will you?”

“g-girlfriend.. right! yes, okay.”

a/n : 😁😁 send in asks interact with me maybe! ill be answering asks later

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

request: Sam and Deans sister is really squeamish with her own injuries. I am talking like gagging throwing up so grossed out, that’s how much it affects her. Her brothers are aware of her huge fear and understand what they have to do when she gets injured. They have been through this many times with her before and are extremely familiar with her panic. Even with all of her injuries, it never gets better for her and she freaks out every single time her brothers have to patch her up.

Warnings: gore, cursing,

A/N: Okay some of this might be so dramatic but it’s soooo real like I am one of these people who are absolutely sickened by stitches and gashes. I had to get stitches before multiple times and I was gagging the whole time gripping my leg. I would assume an injury like this one is 1000% worse so it may seem dramatic but it’s like so real tbh. Anyway I was too lazy and tired to proof read this but I’m still gonna upload it and check it all later so if anything’s clearly spelled wrong… oops sorry lol. Hope you enjoy:)) Requests are still open!

You were easily disgusted by the sight of your own wounds which was unfortunate because you were a hunter so wounds were more common than not. Blood was fine and little scrapes were okay, but stitches or deep gashes had you sick to your stomach. You could not stop yourself from physically gagging or throwing up when you had serious injuries. You were completely okay with others injuries, but your own? They made you sick to your stomach.

It was always a fight with your brothers because you obviously needed to take care of your wounds, but the idea of it made you physically ill. They had to hold you down more times than not to clean up your wounds and stitch them because you would thrash and thrash. If they weren’t holding you down, then you were usually squeezing your eyes shut, holding your breath and biting back throwing up. Either way, you never won because you were either crying, gagging, throwing up or fighting them. So when a demon took a knife and sliced your shin you couldn’t help but curse.

“Fuck!” You cried and collapsed to the floor. While Dean finished off the demon that sliced you, you grabbed your shin in a tight grip to look at your wound. You cried out in pain and felt sick to your stomach when you realized how bad it was.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” You gagged, seeing your skin gaping open. Dean killed the demon and his attention immediately went to you. He eyed your injury up and before he could make his next move, Sam swooped in.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey you’re going to be alright, okay?” Sam said coming into your view. He looked at your wound and clenched his jaw. He caught Dean’s eyes. Dean sent him a grimace and shook his head. Sam already knew how this was going to end and he also knew that he had to word his next sentences to you very carefully.

“I’ll grab the car.” Dean hurried off, knowing that they had to disinfect and care for your wound as soon as possible.

“Okay, hey we’re going to get you cleaned up, it’s okay.” Sam said softly with his attention back on you. As he reached down to pick you up, you gripped onto his wrist with panic in your eyes.

“No, Sammy, wait, please no, please!” You whimpered, now feeling your body start to tremble. You were so not mentally prepared for this to be happening to you right now. Sam sighed, knowing how hard it was going to be for all of you.

“Bug,” he said sympathetically, “you know that’s a deep gash.” He finished insinuating that you knew that there was no other option, but to deal with the wound. You let out a sob and let him finish picking you up.

“I know sweetheart, I know, I’m sorry.” He whispered. Dean pulled up the car and hopped out. Sam carried you to the car while Dean opened the door for him and the three of you got in. You cried the entire way to the bunker while your brothers tried their best to comfort you. Once you got to the bunker, Dean went in first to get everything sorted as Sam worked on coaxing you out of the car.

“Sammy!” You sobbed when he opened the door closest to you.

“Y/N/N I’m sorry but we have to clean you up.” He said already knowing where you were going with it.

“No!” You cried gagging. “I’m going to throw up, I’m going to throw up!” You panicked.

“Hey hey hey it’s going to be okay!” He said reaching out to you, but you leaned away from him.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You mumbled. “Sam please I-I-I can’t fucking do it, I can’t!” You cried.

Sam sighed. “If we don’t clean it up now, it could get worse, bug. You would be in extra pain and it would require even more care.” Sam pointed out trying to get you to understand.

“But I don’t want either!” You cried.

“I know, but these are your only options.” He said sympathetically.

You threw your head back and cried. You were defeated, he was right.

“Fine,” you sobbed.

“Come on sweetheart, I got you.” He said softly as he helped you out of the car and picked you up. You squeezed your arms around his neck tight and dug your face into his chest as he carried you inside.

He walked you to the table where he tried setting you down gently, but failed. You still had your arms tight around his neck, not letting him go. You whimpered as you peaked out from his chest and saw all of the supplies out.

“Kiddo, we’ve gotta patch you up and you know that we do. So I need you to hang with me kid, okay?” Dean asked gently, coming into your view with disinfectant in his hands.

You cried, but released your grip on Sam. He sat you on the table and you instantly reached for your leg. You squeezed your leg tight hoping to take some of the pressure away from where you were injured as Dean got ready to clean you up.

“Alright I’m just going to disinfect it right now okay? I’m not touching it yet, just pouring it over your leg, alright kid?” He asked.

You nodded and whimpered, still squeezing your leg. You knew this part was going to hurt like hell. You closed your eyes and looked away and you felt Sam’s hand on your back. The cold liquid poured onto your leg and your breath got caught in your throat as you felt the intense sting and burn. You choked back a sob. You hated this feeling. You hated knowing that your wound was bubbling and that the liquid was going into your flesh because your skin was practically flapped open. The whole idea of it made you feel sick, but you knew this was the easiest part of the whole clean up.

“You’re doing so good kid, hang with me.” Dean said as he got the cloth gauze out. You felt your heart rate increase.

“Wait De-“ you started before he cut you off.

“I’m not going to do anything without telling you first and I’ll walk you through it as always.” He reassured you.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’ve gotta dry it up so I can start the stitches,” he said, squinting his eyes at you to get a better read on your expression. Sam felt you stiffen under his touch.

“Hey you’re doing so good bug, Deans going to continue.” He said, nodding to Dean and not giving you an option to stop him. Dean gave you a reassuring nod and blotted your wound. You hissed in pain as he finished drying it. As soon as you saw him reach for the needle and thread, you tried to scramble off the table. Your brothers knew you too well though and Sam had you pulled back.

You were frantic. “Please wait no wait” You gagged. “I-I-“ You gagged again. “No wait hold on!” You finally screeched in fear and pleaded your one last attempt. Tears were streaming down your face and you just couldn’t do it.

“You’re okay.” Dean reassured, nodding to you.

“But I’m not Dean!” You whined, feeling like you were going to pass out.

“Hey, hey, hey, the sooner I start, the sooner I can finish. I need you to stay with me kid. You’re okay.” He soothed, eyeing you. He knew that there was a great possibility of you passing out. Both of your brothers greatly preferred you to be conscious when they were patching you up to prevent further complications.

You accepted your fate and threw your head back crying. You motioned to Dean to start the stitches. As soon as he pierced through your skin with the needle you let out a sob.

“Shhhhh, shhh, it’s okay.” Sam murmured, rubbing your back and holding your body up. You felt Dean tug at your skin as he stitched you up and you gagged. This was one of the worst feelings in the world. You suddenly felt really weak and tried to blink away the black spots clouding your vision. Sam felt your body start to become less tense and figured you were slipping away from consciousness.

“Dean.” He alerted his brother. Dean looked up at you.

“HEY, HEY, keep your eyes open kiddo!” He shouted before lowering his voice. That confirmed Sam’s thoughts so he gave your face a little tap. You shot your eyes back open and focused on Dean’s mouth moving.

“HEY, HEY, I need you to stay awake, can you do that for me kid?” He asked. His voice felt so far away and you tried to nod, but you gave up and your head lolled to the side. You closed your eyes and felt Sam tapping your face again, but you didn’t have the energy to open them back up.

“Shit!” You heard Dean mumble before you fell into complete darkness.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you felt a sharp stabbing pain in your leg. You jolted up frantically and Sam grabbed you to hold you down as you whimpered. Dean stopped stitching you so that your erratic movements didn’t cause him to screw up. You came to and focused on your surroundings.

“There she is! I need you to keep those eyes open for me kiddo.” Dean said looking at you.

“You’re okay, relax.” Sam soothed, but you didn’t care. As Dean turned his focus back to your gash, you cried out and tried to jerk your leg away.

“Sam, hold her down, I’ve gotta finish this up.” Dean said shooting you a sympathetic look. Sam gripped your shin tight and held you in place as you cried out in pain and disgust. Every time you felt the tug of your skin, you gagged. You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, clenching your jaw. You didn’t know how long had passed before you heard Sam’s gentle voice.

“Hey sweetheart, I need you to breathe for me or else your going to make yourself pass out again.” He said, still holding your leg in place. You didn’t even notice that your lungs were searching for oxygen until you let in a deep breath and felt the relief. Dean looked up at you.

“Atta girl, I’m almost done, hang in there.” He encouraged you. You cried out a few more times, before Dean put down the needle and thread.

“All done!” He said and you let out an audible sigh of relief. He out the antibacterial cream and unscrewed the cap.

“Okay I’m going to quickly put this on and wrap it up.” He explained to you. You nodded and he took that as his approval to continue. You accidentally caught sight of your wound and gagged.

“Blah oh my God I fucking can’t I’m- blah- I’m going to-“ You gagged. “I’m going to throw the fuck up.” You gagged again. It was just word vomit with you gagging every other second. You looked away, but the feeling of your skin and knowing what it looked like still continued to make you gag. Dean quickly spread the cream over your stitches and you gagged again. It just grossed you the hell out. The whole idea of it just made you sick to your stomach. He quickly wrapped up your leg and patted your knee.

“Good as new kiddo, you’re all patched up.” He sighed in relief.

“Thank you.” You whispered. You felt the ache and burn of your wound as you repositioned yourself on the table. You were ready to leap into your bed and stay there for eternity.

“Can you walk?” Sam asked, reaching out to help stabilize you as you got off the table.

“Yeah I-“ You gagged as you felt your skin ache from being stretched by the stitches. “I’m good.” You replied and walked without bending your leg to prevent yourself from feeling that gross stretch of your skin again. Sam looked at you in concern as Dean couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Alright kid, let’s get you to bed.” He said as he swooped you up in his arms. You relaxed in his arms and he brought you into your room. He gently placed you on your bed and helped you with your blankets.

“Thanks De.” You mumbled before you noticed Sam also in the room, “thanks s’mmy.” You said softly. You were so exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open.

“Goodnight bug, call us if you need anything.” Sam said before he walked out of the room. Dean followed him, leaving your bedroom door open so they could check on you frequently through out the night.

[marleyybluu]

The Nanny

Part 4

Rio x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst (I think lol), our favourite couple part their ways for now, Nick being a nosey weirdo, sad Rio, sad reader. Idk I think that’s it.

A/N: I know this is a bit short and (surprise) no smut lol but we will get there dw. this is (kind of) a filler. Also if you’re new, check out my master list for parts 1-3 ❤️cus I’m too lazy to link them here lmao oops

It'd been two weeks since Y/n's encounter with the blonde lady. Elizabeth. Her name was Elizabeth. She noticed it at the top of the ultrasound. That ultrasound felt like it was forever engraved in her mind. She hadn't talked to Rio about it yet, she didn't know if she wanted to. Y/n wasn't really an angry or confrontational person, but when it came to it, she could explode and if it was going to be like that she didn't want Marcus to hear anything.

So, until then, she played her part as usual. Well, the affection she delivered had shortened, and that was very noticeable for Rio. They were practically living in each other's skin half the time and now he suddenly felt cold and that's what she wanted.

"Y/n." She felt something poking her hip, she blinked a few times zoning back in and looking down to see poor Marcus attempting to receive her attention. "Sorry, honey, what's going on?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to put my plate in the sink." She shifted over allowing him access to the sink, she continued to wash the dishes and hummed a tune that was repetitive in her head. "Do you know when Daddy will be home?"

She shook her head. "No idea bud." Suddenly there was a knock on the door, Y/n turned off the water and dried her hands lightly jogging through the short hallway to get to the door. She held her breath as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Oh, hi." It was Rio's brother... cousin... whichever. "Hey... you." She awkwardly greeted him, she forgot his name. He chuckled reaching out his hand, "Nick."

"Right, Nick, sorry." She shook his hand, a little longer than she wanted to, his grip was a little tight on her. "What can I help you with?"

"Is my brother here?"

Y/n smirked. "Thought he was your cousin." He was amused.  "Anyway, he's not here yet but he should be home soon if you want to wait for him." She stepped aside inviting him inside the house, she closed the door behind him. He took off his shoes and wandered off at the sound of Marcus' voice. "Uncle Nick!"

"Hey buddy, what's going on? What are you watching?"

"Bluey."

Y/n chimes in. "As always. And remember our deal, after this episode, you hit the shower and hit your bed okay?"

Marcus pouted and delivered those sweet brown puppy eyes. "What about Dad?" She groaned internally, he had school tomorrow and she did not need him to be up all night and end up sleeping in the next day. "I'll send him upstairs as soon as he's through that door okay?"

"Okay." He agreed and sat back down on the couch. She turned over to Nick and smiled. "Would you like anything?" He put his hand up and shook his head. "I couldn't intrude like that."

She reassured him that it was fine, suggesting there was water, juice and wine to choose from. He chose wine. He followed her trail back to the kitchen, he sat on one of the stools and waited patiently, watching her squat down behind the island to reach into a cabinet where she kept her special drinks. She then walked over to the upper cabinets and reached for a glass, her shirt slipping up exposing a bit of her skin, a small silly tattoo of Snoopy sitting on her hip as her sweatpants were almost dangerously low. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

She turned back placing the glass on the counter and poured out some liquor. "Not too much gotta drive back."

She hummed and nodded.

"You're okay?" Nick asked. She'd never talked to Nick, had no intention of speaking to him ever again since the dinner at their grandmother's house and judging how stiff Rio acted towards him she didn't really want to expose the problem at hand. So she bit her tongue and nodded.

Well, maybe she didn't bite hard enough.

"Actually, can I ask something?"

"Yeah."

Her nostrils widened as she angrily exhaled through her nose. "Has Rio ever..." Sigh. "When he was with Maria, and she was pregnant... was he sleeping with other people? Or bringing other women around?"

He thought about and she couldn't tell if he was going to save his ass or throw him under the bus. "I mean, they weren't really together when Maria was pregnant, so he still had other women around yeah."

"Okay." She simply replied looking at her wine glass, twirling it around at the stem, the red liquid swishing and swooshing with every movement it almost became hypnotizing. Her ears rang as scenarios filled her head. Was she the other woman that was around? How come no one in his family said anything? Do they not know?

Nick noticed how quiet she was and the coping mechanism she developed sitting there, he gently placed his hand over hers and she stopped playing with the glass. "Are you..."

"No," She quickly answered. "No, I mean I wouldn't be drinking."

Duh. He thought to himself but he had to ask anyway. He leaned forward attempting to pry more out of her without giving himself away. "Do you think-"

She cut him off. "Maria said that when you think you're the only one you're not and-"

Not too much.

"Fuck, I don't know it just got me thinking. And now I'm overthinking."

Before he could reply to her statement Marcus repeatedly squealed.  "Daddy's home! Daddy's home! Y/n! Daddy's home!"

She smiled at his cheery tone. "So I've heard."

Rio's figure came to join the duo in the kitchen, an overgrown Marcus sitting on his hip, just a small reminder that he'd forever be his baby. A very apparent frown played on his face while his eyes darted between her and Nick. "Hey, pretty mama." Immediately asserting his dominance.

"Hi." She nodded before taking another sip of her wine. "Nick... why are you in my kitchen?" He asked with hostility lacing his voice. Nick smirked, always smug at how immediately defensive Rio seemed to get whenever he came around. "Just came to see you, little brother."

Y/n cleared her throat standing up from her seat, she reached out for Marcus who easily transferred over to her, he was reluctant to leave his dad at first, not seeing him all day and only getting a minute with him made him a bit sad, but after a promise from Rio that he'd be up to at least read a story he cooperated and clung to Y/n as she took him upstairs.

While they were getting ready, Y/n's mind couldn't help but wonder about how she'd bring up the situation at hand, the envelope had been tucked under her side of the mattress for a while, maybe that's why she had trouble sleeping too it was taunting her underneath where she lay. She felt a bit of guilt, it was wrong for her to keep this a secret from him, he had the right to know he was having another kid.

Huh.

Another kid.

And it's not with her.

She sighed shaking off the thought, putting it on the back burner for a bit to focus on whatever Roblox game Marcus was trying to teach her to play on his iPad. She couldn't understand why these kids were so into this thing, he was obsessed. He rested his head on her shoulder while she tapped away on the screen. Her character disappeared and respawned in a moment. "What did I do?"

"Someone killed you." He giggled, and she gasped playfully poking his side. "That's not funny, I don't know what I'm doing." She laughed. He took his iPad back showing her once more what to do, a slight knock against the door frame interrupted their time together. Marcus sighed knowing he had to put his device away so he handed it back to her to take downstairs and in the morning he could have it back during breakfast.

Rio smiled. "Picked a book yet?"

Marcus nodded reaching under his pillow and showing him. "Say goodnight to Y/n."

"Night Y/n."

She kissed his head. "Night sweetness. I'll see you when I see you." Strange, Rio thought to himself, she always said she'll see him in the morning.

She walked past Rio, avoiding even an inch of contact with him. He swore he felt a cold air as she passed by, her loving and warmth had suddenly been replaced. Rio poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue and nodded. "Cool, let's uh, start reading."

---

By the time y/n got downstairs Nick had long disappeared, she sighed placing the yellow envelope on the counter after retrieving it from their room. She needed another glass of wine if she was ever going to get through this. She sat on the stool around the Island and twirled her wine glass once again, staring blankly at it until the sound of descending footsteps brought her back to Earth. "How was your day?" He asked opening the fridge and looking for something to drink or at least snack on.

"Good,"

Sip.

"How was yours?" Her tone was cold and uninterested so he responded with the same simple answer she gave him. "Good."

The silence returned aside from the obnoxious tapping of her fingers against her phone screen. He knew her well enough, when she was making extra noise on purpose she was pissed. Rio shook his head. "What was Nick doing here?"

The tapping stopped. "Came to say hi." She answered placing her phone down on the counter and picking up her wine glass. "Why are you talking to me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want to pick a fight."

She chuckled pettily. "Hm."

"Y/n-"

"Who's Elizabeth?" She asked finally lifting her head up to look at him, he froze and audibly swallowed. "She's a business partner."

"Is she?" Y/n questioned with a trembling voice. She slid the envelope over to him as he took a seat next to her. "Open it,"

He was lowkey starting to sweat. He fumbled with the envelope until it opened, he reached inside and pulled out the evidence. His eyes fell out of his head and rolled onto the shiny clean floor. "Y/n..."

"Congratulations, I guess." She shrugged. He looked up at the name double checking if it was really Beth's. There's no way this was fucking happening. He'd admit they had their fair share of encounters, maybe one before he met Y/n but there was no way that it resulted in this. She would've told him, or at least he'd hoped she would.

This looked bad, there was no way to weasel out of this when the evidence was right there. What made everything more uneasy is how calm Y/n was being, any other woman would have thrown their wine at him or knocked him with the bottle but she downed the last of the liquid and poured whatever was left of the bottle.

"You think it's a boy or a girl?" She laughed tipsily. "This isn't funny."

"You're right," She sipped. "It's not, but you know... when you've been crying about it for two weeks, you just run out of tears and all you can do is laugh."

She continued. "You laugh and you wonder how you fell so fucking foolishly in love with someone, in such a short time... how in that short time he made you feel so special like you were his world. You fall in love with his son, the sweetest boy you've ever met who tugs at your heart everyday and you think to yourself maybe one day you can give this kid his own little best friend."

Rio dropped his head. "And you come to find out, that- that someone else beat you to it. Is that how you did Maria? I mean she- she told me I'm not the only one, Christopher can never have one girl and I fucking defended you. I was so fucking sure-"

Y/n's voice cracked, and her chin trembled as she fought back a flood of tears but they were no longer tears of sadness, they were angry. Pissed. "I was so fucking sure you wouldn't do that to me."

He didn't know what to say, his mouth ran dry. "I'm... baby, I'm sorry. Look at me, look at me," He put the picture down and grabbed her face forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were so sad, so tired, so broken. He'd never seen her like this, he couldn't believe he was the cause.

"I love you... Y/n. I swear to god, I fucking love you ma. I'm sorry, okay? But you're going to have to believe me when I say this ain't my kid. There's no way. I-it's just been you and me this whole time, baby, I fucking swear."

She sniffled. She could see it, or maybe she just wanted to see it. That he did love her and some part of him was telling her the truth, but bless her heart she didn't know what to believe. It was too much, maybe she moved too fast and this was her consequence, didn't ask enough questions when they started dating and now this was the result. She loved him. God she loved him. Her whole body gravitated towards him and it was so hard to pull away when she found out.

It was hard to pull away now, how close they were in proximity, noses almost touching, foreheads pressed together. He didn't want to let go, this was something he was willing to go to war for. Against her better judgement, she leaned forward connecting their lips.

The love, the regret, the sorrow was all wrapped up in it. Ugh, he tasted like alcohol, probably took a shot before he came home. He smelt so good even after a long day. His lips were so soft, so sweet to her and extra gentle. Their kiss started slow and soon picked up feverishly, she pulled at his shirt, the sudden need for him took over. The two sides of her brain knocked at each other, sleep with him tonight and leave in the morning or leave now and never see him again— let this kiss be the last.

Beep! Beep!

Someone else was there to answer for her. She pulled back but he brought her in, one last kiss. Just one. Y/n pulled back, tugging his hands away from her and she immediately missed them. She stood up and grabbed her keys off the counter. "I made Marcus' lunch... oh, you know the routine."

"Y/n... ma, please..."

She kissed his cheek. "Tell him I'll see him soon, okay?"

"No." He protested. "He can see you tomorrow, in the morning."

"Christopher."

"Y/n."

She wasn't about to argue with him, her sister blowing up her phone letting her know she was outside and to hurry the fuck up. She backed away as slowly as she could, his jaw flexed and his eyes became glossy. He was going to cry. She couldn't watch it otherwise she'd stay and she just needed the space right now. She quickly made her way down the hall with him hot on her trail, she opened the door and wiped a tear that ran down her cheek.

Her sister caught sight of Rio and shook her head. Y/n went on the passenger side.

Just one last glance.

She ducked down and sat, closing the car door. She turned away from her sibling not wanting to be bothered by anyone right now. Understandable.

Rio watched as the car disappeared, the gravel under the tires crunching as she vanished before him. He stood there, dumbfounded. He's fucked up a lot but never like this.

He needed a way to resolve this and he needed it now.

If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

See you in the next one. Peace and love✌🏾

🏷️ : @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @bigenergy777 @christinabae @corpsebridenightamare @prettylilsapphic @realhotgurlshit @being-worthy @skyesthebomb

[prolix-yuy]

...advanced crab walk⁉️ I'm scared to ask

Lovely Nonnie, never be scared! Honestly I googled this one and got a myriad of answers, so I picked which one seemed to make the most sense. And for such a wildly named position, there's only one boy I could choose.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Advanced Crab Walk

Word Count: 1394 (oops)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, allusions to bartering sex for freedom, side character death, Ezra is a filthy boy as always.

Notes: Another one that got away from me! Ezra felt perfect for this position, though the way he gets there is very interesting.

You absolutely should not trust him, not after you caught him stealing your filters and running into the night. Definitely not after you tussled when you snuck into his camp, pinned to the dirt with his only functional hand and a wildness in his eyes that spiked fear through your stomach. Especially not after letting you go with a warning, threats of blood bubbling past your lips if you crossed him again. Never mind that he stole from you first, he would stop it with a finality that sent you stumbling back through the Green.

But now, both prisoners of misfortune, you have to consider what being allies might entail.

A larger band of prospectors with dangerous weaponry and even more dangerous smiles led you to your makeshift prison - a defunct transport pod. Your surprise doubled at the sight of your rival, handcuffed to the wall across from you. The space is cramped, barely able to stretch your legs from one side to the next, almost hip to hip with your fellow prisoner. He reeks of sweat and the stale recycled air they pump in to keep you both from choking to death. The sheen of perspiration on his skin amplifies the grime, but his features are strangely alluring now that they are not distorted by glass.

The second day you find your words, and he does too.

“Ezra,” he introduces himself, a foreign drawl tantalizing your ears. “And since we may never leave this sorry excuse for a prison, I will be the bigger man and apologize for my conduct thus far.” You roll your eyes at his half-apology, but accept. He speaks at length about anything, everything. His voice sometimes lulls you to sleep, startled back awake when the silence pervades. He’s always watching you, eyes sometimes sharply analytical, other times soft. You struggle under the idea that he may pity you.

You hunt for breaks in the panels, wiring to open the door, a way to release your manacles. Ezra lets you bounce ideas around like errant leaves on the wind. The cool tone grates at your nerves.

“Why aren’t you trying to escape too?” you snap, the short length of your restraints beginning to chafe your wrists. Ezra’s lazy lean, knees knocked wide and hand loose in his lap, only infuriates you more.

“Patience. I’ve always found striking a deal to be the best way to get out of a miserable situation.” 

“Easy for you to say. What do you have to offer them?” 

His eyes dance over you, contemplation parting his lips. A cold pit drops in your stomach.

“I have my plans,” he says simply. 

The fourth day you lose hope. Tears finally fall as you bury your face in your knees, choking your sobs back. You don’t want Ezra to hear your despair, use it as another way to bargain his way out at your expense. But the longer they fall, the harder they are to hide.

“Why do you cry?” Ezra murmurs, sidling next to you and pressing the warm length of his leg against yours. You’re as grimy and sticky with sweat as him now but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“How many more nights alive do I have?” you choke out, and his wide palm wraps around your shoulder. A placating touch before the killing blow. Maybe he’ll end your suffering quickly.

“As many as you please,” he says, his fingers coming up to tilt your chin. “I do have a plan, after all.”

“For you.”

“For us.”

You stare in silence, the assured smile on his face glimmering hope in your chest.

“Do you trust me?”

Not a beat before your answer. “No.”

Ezra chuckles. “Smart of you. Do you want to make it out of here?”

A longer pause. “Yes.”

Ezra’s fingers grasp your chin, satisfaction painting his lips.

“Then do as I say. Take off your pants.”

Your heart hammers into a race, body freezing. “What?”

Ezra tilts his head, and the sinful part of his lips wars with your fear. “If I tell you it’s part of my plan to pleasure you fully and thoroughly, would you trust my word?”

No, you say to yourself, but with the walls closing in around you, would it be so bad for your final moments to be orgasmic? 

Stepping out of your leggings, a shiver runs down your legs at the naked appreciation on Ezra’s face. His hand strokes the outside of your thigh, leading you to stand over his hips. Looking up at you, you’re struck to softly card your fingers through the tuft of white hair at his temple.

“I would be honored to prepare you with my mouth, and my fingers,” he husks, the simple straightforwardness buckling your knees. Your curt nod is all the permission he needs to drag his fingers through your folds and stretch you open on them, mouthing at your clit with fat swipes of his tongue and needy lips. Hands clutching at his shoulders, he pumps you with slow, thorough motions, burying his chin between your thighs to slurp and groan. Sometimes his eyes drift shut, focusing the tip of his tongue on your clit, but when they flash up to you your cunt clamps hard. The snarled wrinkle of his nose as he sucks harder pulls a cry from your lips. 

“Down,” he rasps, fingers sliding from your channel with a loud, slick noise. He grips your hip and drags you to your knees, pushing you back to sit on his thighs. Your feet plant by his hips as he angles his cock to press at your entrance. Looking up to gauge your expression briefly, he’s almost confused. You wonder if he’s only taken in the past, never expected to be offered anything.

“Give it to me, Ezra,” you ask, and are rewarded with bared teeth and his cock splitting you open. At this angle he can only shallowly thrust into you, but you lean back to roll your hips down on him. The reward is a healthy snarl.

“Be loud for me,” he orders, and you tilt your head back and let every high-pitched wail empty out of your chest. “Scream for me, and no matter what, don’t stop.”

Your focus narrows on the burn in your arms and thighs and Ezra’s cock breaching you over and over, the mouthwatering ridge of his head stretching you every time. He practically roars at your cunt squeezing him, roughly palming your clothed breast as his fingernail scrapes over your nipple. The only death you’re concerned about is the little one burning its way through your veins.

“What the fuck is going…?” A deep voice not from your lover’s throat fills the small room, but you follow Ezra’s instruction and keep fucking him. Closing your eyes you pray for what plan you’ve put your faith in to work.

“Needy thing, had to have my cock,” Ezra husks, splaying his hand over your chest. “See how greedy her cunt is? You can have her all to yourself if you ask nicely.” You squeeze your eyes tighter to hold your tears back. 

A rumble of a voice, three heavy steps, what may have been breath across your face but then a choking sputter, and a sickly rip. Finally a thud, and Ezra’s arm snaking around your back to pull you to his chest.

“You’re okay, brave girl,” he murmurs, cradling your head as you suddenly sob into his chest. Adrenaline shakes your limbs, makes your breathing erratic as he murmurs to you. “You did everything perfectly, exactly what I told you. And look,” He coaxes your head up to see blood-splattered keys tumbled on the floor. “We have our freedom.”

You take a moment more to compose yourself, Ezra’s cock softening to slip out of you. The loss aches surprisingly, the comfort of him inviting a strange introspection. He unshackles you both, and finds another key that brightens his face even more. 

“We may part ways here, and you will never need look on my face again,” he says, and in his eyes is a promise you never expected. Not of safety, or of peace, but excitement, and ambition, and maybe still a lick of something carnal that calls for you.

“But you can also escape with me, if you so choose.”

You shouldn’t.

But you do.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[ghostiiess]

[NSB HEADCANONS] - what the other boys think about you and a member's romantic relationship

তততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

pov: the title says it all!

warning: none

type: wholesome

members: all of them!

note: this hc is a bit shorter than usual!!

the other requests are coming soon!! i was super busy this week and didn't have the time to write :(

likes and reblogs are grealty appreciated! :)

OLIVER

super happy for you two

wouldn't judge

he's like the type to give the stars content about you and the other member 😌

what a nice guy is he, am i right?

remember the tiktok he did about seb laughing with ryan (sebryan my heart-)? and the "misery" note started? well, he'll do this just so everyone can have a dose of *yourship* (if you don't know what i'm talking about, then here's the link for this youtube short since i'm too lazy to search on tiktok oops)

such a cutie fr

(the other members under the cut!)

SEBASTIAN

he would be a bit shocked

"wait, i didn't know he could pull" 😑

he would be such a teasy guy

wouldn't be able to stop making you both blushes and all, like-

"oooh you two are blushing!!!!"

"did i interrupt something or..?"

he wouldn't really mind, i think seb would be happy about you two

but that wouldn't stop him from flirting with the member aka ur bf! (mostly if it's ryan)

JUSTIN

i'm sorry, but he do not cares

i mean, yes he do, but he doesn't really mind?

like okay his best friend have a partner.. and?

idk he just give me this vibe

he'll be happy to see you around times to times

idk what to say, he's happy, he think you guys are cute.. he's simply like "ah ok, anyways have you seen you guys the new mario bros movie??-"

RYAN

ry' would be like "WAIT HE GOT A GIRLFRIEND??????"

:O

in awe

or in shock

we can't really tell

he's like super happy and all, but he's also like justin

he doesn't really know what to say except than "ok, cool"

would be friends with you and all, but he wouldn't pass time with you (sorry not sorry)

KANE

would be sooo happy?

like he's super excited to see his friend being happy and in a good and healthy relationship

plus he think you're cool

would do tiktok with you and all but i think that's all

he's happy to see you around

even if you can be on his nerves times to times because you think eren from aot is not that cool (kane loves eren), he think you're nice to hang out with!

DARREN

please, you'll have to tell him that you're dating his best friend because otherwise, he'll "forget"

ok, maybe (i am) exaggerating, but darren is such a flirty guy so ofc he would flirt with you times to times

PLATONIC FLIRT OFC 🙂

like he do with the others members

also pls tell him you're dating his best friend, because why is he flirting like that

but anyways, he flirts with everyone, it's his job (and i think nsb wouldn't be the same if we didn't have this side of him)

and ofc he'll flirt with your boyfriend (sorry not sorry)

he's happy that his best friend is dating someone, so he must do his job of being silly and playful, y'know?

REGIE

he'll be happy about it

but he wouldn't really make a big deal of it

like "oh okay cool my bro" then forget about it and really doesn't mind

just like jp or ryan

but hey, it's regie, what do you want? he's nonchalant 👌

anyways, yeah that's all, he found you two super cute

and he would love if you guys could stop doing pda in front of him

last thing: don't be surprised if regie make fun of you, it's one of his way to tell that he cares about you

that's it!!! i hope you guys liked it! if you want to see more, let me know!!

taglist! (open! send an ask to be in it!) : @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0

[stuffyflowers]

sorry if this is stupid but theres a lot of moments in paci route where i feel like ceroba just straight up doesnt believe that kana is still here. like yeah she plotted this entire thing but after starlo and mart confront her, during the battle, she believes kana is totally gone. i think she could tell that clover was bad but its up to her if she believes in the feeling also what was up with the pillars in her attack i have zero clue why she uses them

Oh I loveeeee what a walking contradiction ceroba is at the point right before her pacifist battle in particular with how she talks abt kanako. Saying “falling down is practically a death sentence” right before going through with your plan that will literally only work if she’s alive is. Certainly something! The part of her that is logical and realistic is fighting for its fucking life to get a single sentence out of her mouth and the second it does she just immediately blocks it out with her 1000 years denial attack so she can continue chasing false hopes it’s awesome.

As to why Ceroba is so inconsistent with whether she thinks kanako is alive or not (before entering steamworks saying she can feel her presence -> everything she says before/during/after pacifist battle lmao), it’s like. Cerobas already deep into denial to the point it clouds her better judgement bc of all the other shit she’s dealing with so mixing it with the uncertainty of being kept completely in the dark in regards to her daughters situation (esp after receiving a call that she was alive only for alphys to completely cut contact with everyone immediately after, which has uhhhh implications) leaves us with her strange outlook where kanako is simultaneously dead and alive to her. And bc of this her defeatism and her hopefulness are constantly fighting to take control of her actions and her words, which is what makes her so painfully inconsistent and hypocritical in both regards (and being fully aware of this fact!!! “I am a hypocrite. a liar. sure”). In the end that ambiguity is enough for her to justify what she’s doing even after straight up admitting to the possibility that this will all be for nothing and that there’s no hope for kanako bc as long as there’s that slim chance to make a difference she *has* to take it. She says it herself, it was worth the risk to her. Really highlights her devotion, or more accurately, her stubbornness lol.

Idk what ur talking abt w/ the clover thing. Are we still talking about kanako and ceroba? Or is this about the knowing clover killed star thing. I’m confused

Andddd pillar attack. Honestly I haven’t ever thought too hard abt it oop. I’m too lazy to find all the variations she uses so I can wax poetic about it but the image of her destroying a metaphorical and literal symbol of stability and support in a fit of rage is pretty clear I think

[savebatsartedition]

Second to last old Scratchcraft fanart dump! (I think.)

(These ones are three years old I think.)

Scratch link: X

(More notes under the cut.)

Ack this season was awesome, I explain why this wasn't posted earlier a bit further down in the instructions.

Technically the sixth one but you get the deal by now lol.

Click or space to progress through the art.

If you think anything in this project is inappropriate, please tell me and give me the chance to remove it, I don't think anything is, but I don't have the best track record of being correct in that area. I'm not trying to have anything bad in projects.

Alright then, explanation time, I can't really go on youtube anymore, or at least I couldn't for a few months, so this fanart is a bit… uh, later than was expected I guess? Oops, it's not my fault though. (Ack season two started and I'm just over here-) This is kind of rushed and there aren't many drawings in it, but that's because I wanted to seperate the season one stuff from the season two stuff.

I- I think Drawception might have seriously helped my drawing abilities in the terms of backgrounds.

Please don't steal my art!

Now I've decided to write something for each drawing: 1: Storm taking off lol

Kenpo flying.

Storm with a sword and a trident.

Hm… I could really use a trident.

Fools… (Hunted hiding in the grass ft. really weird lighting.) I lowkey dislike this one a lot but it was funny.

I kinda hate this one too but they are fighting over the egg.

Mallon calling Kenpo to help kill Hunted, fighting over Mallon's stuff.

Same people as last time fighting in the background and Storm annoyed about the side of his shop blowing up. (I was too lazy to draw a helmet.) ALSO I know it was in a desert, I forgot but was too lazy to change it, sorry!

Hunted in his base just trying to build when the creepers attack.

"How Distressing," Mallon is in prison lol.

He won. :)

Kenpo and Hunted sitting in a pool of lava together. (Hunted's base.)

Kenpo I doodled because I felt bad for not drawing him enough in this one.

Storm falling out of the world.

Bonus Meme! … and that's it because I really want to share this project.

(More season one fanart might be in the next one, but I started watching season two, and I don't want any of that fanart in this one, even though I really want to draw fanart for that one already lol. Hope that explains the utterly sad amount of art in this.)

The people who made the 24 different songs. Scratch bitmap is the place I drew stuff. The Scratchers in Scratchcraft. @savebats (me) for art.

The Scratchers in Scratchcraft are these people! Their episodes are all amazing, and though I haven't been able to regularly watch them, I wish I could, and hope I can soon. @huntedskelly: huntedskelly @unknownscratcher1234: KenpoViper @Haunted_Enderman: StormLordZeus @Mallonations: Mallonations

[doonarose]

Anchorage

(Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale kissing and romance fic)

Rating: T

Summary:

Crowley and Aziraphale have kissed dozens of times by now, perhaps a hundred. But it’s always up to Aziraphale to initiate. Crowley doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to push things. Except Aziraphale’s starting to get a bit frustrated with it all.

Or: Aziraphale finally says, “Please just kiss me the way you want to kiss me,” and then Crowley does and gets more than he bargained for and (sorry, not sorry) it’s not smut.

A/N: Big thanks to anything_thats_rock_and_roll for their helpful beta-ing and for letting me bounce ideas off them. All six parts in the series on AO3. Or you can find them here on tumblr:

The First One That's Right

The Second One That's Quite Rubbish

Awning Realization

Entr'acte (which I never posted here oops)

Tilt

Crowley and Aziraphale have kissed dozens of times, perhaps a hundred, maybe even two. Initially, Crowley had tried to keep count, although he’d sooner walk on consecrated ground than admit it. Counting kisses, however, was becoming increasingly challenging. The variation of them – sometimes staccato, sometimes run-on – means that he often wonders whether it is best to try to count each individual press of lips, or to package them up into sessions. But then he’s unsure how long a break between presses of lips should differentiate one from two. 

Sometimes, Aziraphale will kiss him, and wander off for only a few minutes – the kettle boiled or a phone ringing – then return and resume: how does he count that? Other times, Aziraphale will kiss him softly and then nuzzle into his neck and stay there for a long time, pick up a novel and read, and then come back up to his mouth and kiss him harder. One or two? More and more often, when they’re comfortable, and deep into a kiss, Aziraphale will pull back, almost imperceptibly, manipulating a millimetre between them and making Crowley chase his mouth and recapture his lips. It’s impossible to know how to count these occasions which means Crowley is losing count. That, in and of itself, carries a little twinge of sadness and an overwhelming, intimate thrill. 

Today is a lazy day after several busy ones. Running a book shop that proactively discourages customers does not keep Crowley and Aziraphale particularly busy; plants and obscure book deals don’t really either, but drama in their corner of Soho, a threat from a developer to buy up and bulldoze their sanctuary, had been a call to arms. And for several days, that had kept them busy. 

Crowley still disdained the fact that he was doing the work of the good guys, but he relished the chance to manipulate and poke and prod. Seeing humans that he was friendly towards smiling in relief when it was all over was also enjoyable enough. As was the opportunity to watch Aziraphale plotting. 

Very early that morning, Crowley had strolled on into the bookshop, the very last of the loose ends tied up and confirmed by Aziraphale’s triumphant nod of approval. Crisis averted. 

Since then, neither one of them has left the bookshop and not a single customer has managed to find their way inside. It’s most of the day later, the sun setting and shafts of soft golden light streaming through the windows, between where the curtains are half drawn, to sparkle the dust that swirls and spirals in the air. 

Aziraphale had plopped down on the opposite end of the couch to Crowley almost an hour ago, foregoing his usual armchair and instead snuggling back into a soft pillow. He had his reading glasses hooked over his ears and within minutes they’d slipped to their place, perched at the end of his nose. He brought along a small hardback that Crowley couldn’t quite glean the title of. 

He’d barely looked at Crowley when he settled, intent on reading, but at some point he’d absent-mindedly reached out, his hand going to the back of Crowley’s neck as Crowley shuffled closer, leaning into the touch. Aziraphale had pet and squeezed and started to rub in such a way – such a comfortable, easy way – that Crowley was inevitably coaxed closer and closer, until his face was pressed up against Aziraphale’s shoulder, and then nuzzling under his arm. Eventually Crowley’s head was in Aziraphale’s lap, facing inwards to Aziraphale’s body, cheek resting warm against his thigh, as his eyes fluttered closed and his breathing slowed to an inhumanly relaxed rate. 

Many minutes pass before Crowley blinks his eyes open to stop from succumbing to sleep. He hasn’t taken a nap in a long time. He’s afraid of missing out on something and now, as his pupils go from blown wide back to narrower slits, his cheek shifting back towards Aziraphale’s knee so he can see him better, Crowley focuses, he watches Aziraphale, to keep from missing out. 

Aziraphale is able to turn the pages of his book with just his right hand. Crowley watches him do it, pointer and middle fingers holding up the spine of the book, thumb manipulating the pages to flick one over to be captured and held by his pinkie. Aziraphale’s other hand remains occupied, petting tenderly up the back of Crowley’s neck, into his hair, over and over again.  

Crowley watches Aziraphale turn the pages until there aren’t any left. Aziraphale closes the book with a small, contented sigh, and places it carefully on the stack of books on the table beside them. Crowley wonders what the novel was about and contemplates asking Aziraphale to explain it to him. 

But instead, he lets the quiet dominate, listens to Aziraphale breathing and the bustle occurring just outside the windows, the sounds of the streets dampened by the half-drawn curtains. It’s pleasant and warm as Aziraphale curls hair at the nape of Crowley’s neck around his fingers. 

Eventually, Aziraphale speaks, “You know you’re allowed to lean on me sometimes.” He makes sure to give Crowley’s hair a gentle tug, to draw him back and his eyes up to meet his own, so that Crowley can see he’s being serious, but also calm. 

Crowley isn’t sure what he means and burns through several seconds by fidgeting and eventually turning fully on his back, neck still against Aziraphale’s thigh, head cradled between them, as he clasps his hands over his stomach and lets his legs hang where they please. One’s hitched high and over the back of the couch, up against the books, and the other falls off the front. His brow furrows when Aziraphale offers nothing else. “What do you mean? I do, I’m literally leaning on you right now.”

Aziraphale chuckles and threads his fingers through Crowley’s hair again, this time brushing up from his temple. “No, I mean, you’re allowed to lean on me when you want to.” He says it as though that’s different to what he’d already said, and also different to what they are actually physically doing right now. 

“I thought I did.” Crowley says dimly, quite lost in it all. Lost further by the distraction of Aziraphale warm under his neck and in the fingers in his hair. “I lean on you just as much as you lean on me, that’s why we work so well together,” Crowley mumbles. 

Aziraphale shakes his head and smiles like he knows something Crowley doesn’t. “You only lean on me when you need to.”

Crowley doesn’t see what’s wrong with that. Or what leaning has to do with kissing, which is where he had hoped all these intimate touches were heading, now that the book was done with. But talking is good, good things can come from talking, and Aziraphale’s fingers carding again and again through his hair is almost as good as kissing. 

Aziraphale continues, “Sometimes, I think it would be nice, if you leaned on me just because you wanted to.” He traces a finger around the shell of Crowley’s ear and then from the corner of his jaw to his chin. It takes several seconds and the entire time, he’s watching his finger closely. “I’d like that.”

Crowley doesn’t know what he means, isn’t sure what he’s hoping to hear, so he says again, “I do.”

Aziraphale huffs and his thigh flexes in a frustrated, obvious sort of way behind Crowley’s head but he still has no idea what it means. 

“You don’t,” Aziraphale tells him, stern and just a little bit indignant. If his fingers weren’t bliss, Crowley would sit up. “I think you’re worried it will be too much for me, which it wouldn’t. You’re the least selfish anything I’ve ever known, and I don’t think that’s good for you, not if we’re going to be in a loving relationship, especially with kissing. I think… I think I want you to be a little bit more selfish.”

So, it is about kissing. At some point Crowley’s eyes have fluttered shut and Aziraphale’s resumed tracing the lines of his face in a soothing sort of way. Crowley’s brow furrows at Aziraphale’s words; he’s never thought of himself as being unselfish… altruism goes against everything he stands for, or used to stand for, at least. But, then, he guesses that isn’t really what it’s about with Aziraphale. Nothing he does with Aziraphale could ever be truly unselfish.

A strand of guilt slithers around his heart that he’s not been what Aziraphale wanted him to be in this relationship. That’s what makes him angrier than anything else. But he recognises that the anger and guilt are simply the manifestation of his fear. Talking also leads to loss, taking more than he needs to, certainly does. He promised himself that he would not fuck up this fragile, perfect, everything thing between him and Aziraphale and every day the danger of that has grown. If not because he gets closer to fucking it up, because this thing between them – already infinite and eternal – keeps growing. 

He’s thought for too long and Aziraphale has more to say. 

“You know, I’ve noticed you never initiate things between us.” Aziraphale’s voice is quiet as his hand stills, resting against Crowley’s cheek, strategically there to keep him from turning away even as Crowley refuses to open his eyes. Aziraphale sounds unsure and cautious, perhaps as though he’s scared as well, and it breaks Crowley’s heart, that he’s done something that might scare Aziraphale. Crowley screws his eyes more tightly closed as he tries to think his way out of this conversation. 

Except, Crowley can’t deny Aziraphale’s accusation. He hadn’t thought it would matter that he always waited for Aziraphale to come to him, but at his point in their relationship it must be glaringly obvious. Crowley has never given in to the itch and scratched, he’s never needed to, with the one glaring exception being the time he kissed him to show Nina – and that hardly qualified as a success.

He’s never gone to Aziraphale, turned to him at any particular moment, or sought him out and grabbed a hold of him, just kissed him, not once, even though he’s obviously wanted to. No, instead, he always waits for Aziraphale to come to him, is always responsive and ready, but never initiates. It’s safer this way, of course. It stops him from pushing for too much or too fast, it means he can’t be the one that fucks this up. 

Aziraphale asks, “Do you know why you do that?”

Crowley’s heart starts to hammer and his throat constricts, his eyes fall open because he forgets to hold them closed and Aziraphale’s just there, watching him, all kindness and calm understanding in his blue eyes and settled across his pleasant features. A year or two ago, Crowley would have fought Aziraphale at this point, said something biting and cruel and then if Aziraphale didn’t fight back, he would have stalked out of the bookshop, vowing never to return and staying gone for anywhere from twenty minutes to twenty years. He gets as far as the other end of the couch, sitting himself up and pushing back into its corner before he catches himself on Aziraphale’s gaze and his outstretched hand. 

“We’re just talking,” Aziraphale says, watching over the tops of his spectacles. He gives Crowley’s hand a squeeze, “And if you don’t want to, we can stop.”

Crowley sets his lips in a line and Aziraphale pushes on, “I think you’re trying to protect me. That’s why you don’t come and kiss me when you want to. I think you’re trying to protect me from you. Which, when I say it out loud… do you hear how silly that sounds?” There’s no judgement or mocking in his voice, but Crowley doesn’t think it’s silly at all.

“I told you I don’t want to do anything that pushes you away,” Crowley says by way of explanation. “And I am quite okay with allowing you to set the pace.”

“And I told you I won’t let you push me away. It’s unfair that it’s always me coming to you… It could give an angel a complex. It could make me think maybe you don’t want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.”

Crowley does not think Aziraphale is really that stupid, he couldn’t possibly be, and the smile about his lips supports Crowley in thinking this.

“Don’t be absurd,” Crowley drawls, gaining nothing but another hand squeeze. He relents, “But I can see how it might look that way. To an outsider.” 

Crowley can feel that he’s calmed down even as he recognises that he’s being manipulated into some sort of verbal trap. 

“So, sometimes you do want to kiss me?” Aziraphale asks.

Crowley has to mumble some sort of agreement to that.

“And you stop yourself, because you’re worried I might not want to, and I might be somehow upset that you wanted to kiss me when I didn’t want to?”

Crowley huffs out a breath. “Well, yes when you say it like that, it does sound extremely juvenile.”

But also, it’s a lot more than that. It’s not just kissing Aziraphale at the wrong time, it’s kissing him in the wrong way, kissing him too much. It’s the way Crowley could so easily be ravenous, debauched, wicked with him, and that being wrong. 

Aziraphale considers and starts stroking the back of Crowley’s hand with his thumb. “I mean, it’s not entirely outside of the realms of possibility. I might be on the second last page of an extraordinarily good book. Or… or the world might be about to end again and I need your help to right it.” Aziraphale really thinks, Crowley can see it in the creases around and between his eyes. “I can’t imagine what delicacy I’d rather eat than kiss you but perhaps there’s something out there.”

There’s a smile tugging at Crowley’s lips as he thinks on that. “Angel… I take your point.”

“Good. Next time you want to kiss me,” Aziraphale leans over, pausing an inch from his face before closing the gap to give him a quick peck. “Kiss me.” 

Aziraphale scooches over so he’s sitting tight up against Crowley, pushing their thighs together and crowding Crowley into the opposite arm of the sofa. He’s still holding his hand when his other hand moves to Crowley’s face so that Aziraphale can kiss him properly. It’s tender and honest and sweet. Crowley’s heart slows down and he sighs something like relief across Aziraphale’s lips, prompting the shift to a kiss that’s deeper and more sumptuous. 

Aziraphale licks into Crowley’s mouth, angling and pressing in all the best ways they’ve learned as Aziraphale’s hand shoves up into Crowley’s hair, twisting the strands between his fingers and just for a second, pulling, just for a second, lips pressing hard and rough, dragging a soft sound of surprise from Crowley before Aziraphale pulls all too quickly, all too far, back. He retreats all the way to the other end of the couch, catching his breath and his eyes bright as he takes a moment to remove his glasses and place them on top of his book on the table.  

It’s not new, the tongues meeting, the slick of it, the taste, the harder and faster, finesse slipping in exchange for getting closer. But it’s still exciting, still on the edge of what they do, and it does things to Crowley that snowball into exactly all the reasons he doesn’t initiate kisses with Aziraphale. 

“For now,” Aziraphale says, voice cracking a little bit high as Crowley tries to remember where the conversation was at. “For now, please just kiss me the way you want to kiss me.”

Crowley freezes because Aziraphale looks hungry for it, lips parted, wet, already kissed a pretty shade of pink, his eyes constantly dipping down to Crowley’s mouth and sometimes even further. But also, he can sense the fear behind Aziraphale’s eyes, that Crowley will want too much, will demand something depraved and destroying and dark. And of course, this was always there at the periphery – and sometimes, when they weren’t together, very much at the forefront – of Crowley’s mind. Of course, he wants to devour him, to destroy him, break him into a million delicious pieces with his mouth and his hands and revel in him coming apart. Of course, he wants that, he’s thought about all of it, he can’t help himself, but Aziraphale’s never indicated that he wanted anything more than kissing. Sometimes a little too hot, a little too wet, and now rough, little tweaks of pain and discomfort and sacrifice, just to get… more. 

Maybe that’s not what he meant, but even if Aziraphale doesn’t know it, that’s what he’s asking for, pleading when he breathes out, “Please.” And perhaps if Crowley just gives him a glimpse, he’ll find out and they can talk and mend and negotiate a pleasant path back to something safe. 

Crowley tilts his head and it’s a warning but Aziraphale is defiant, chin up and mouth opening around words he doesn’t quite allow to escape. He swallows, the motion sinful across his lips and down his throat, before he begs, “Crowley, please,” and finally breaks Crowley’s resolve. 

Crowley lets himself give in, scrambles and falls across the couch to press himself as close as he can get to Aziraphale, to take as much as he can while he’s allowed to. Hands either side of Aziraphale’s face, dragging him down to meet in a desperate, panting open-mouthed kiss. Crowley can’t help but growl into it, pushing and tasting into Aziraphale’s lips all while Aziraphale’s arms wrap around him, holding him there, welcoming the assault. 

It doesn’t taste of anything other than them today. They haven’t eaten or drunk anything for hours so it’s just saliva and sweat, saltier when Crowley pulls back just to catch at Aziraphale’s lips, one and then the other, sucking to drag a noise from Aziraphale’s throat, and then biting to see if his hips move. They’re not at all aligned the way Crowley wants them to be, he wants to crawl fully into Aziraphale’s lap, or straddle him, or yank him down over and on top of him, but instead Crowley’s half across his lap, legs still curled up in a half kneel next to him on the couch, and just hands on Aziraphale’s face and Aziraphale’s arms around his back holding him up. It’s more, better, than anything else, ever before. 

Crowley kisses him harder, catches Aziraphale’s tongue between his teeth and swallows the delighted moan that draws. More, harder, rougher, and his hands set to exploring while still trying to hold on. Into Aziraphale’s soft curls, finding them lush as always, and the skin beneath sensitive to his little scratches. Any little twist or tug and Aziraphale moves in the direction Crowley wants, breathing in quickly and complying with the control so Crowley can kiss him more, exactly as he wants to. Fingers around the back of his ears, more little scratches and Aziraphale’s hips definitely tilt upwards for that. 

Crowley’s hands move down, caressing, itching, down Aziraphale’s neck, across his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his jacket before grabbing handfuls of it and scrunching, down his chest to do it again and try to drag him in even closer. He nips at Aziraphale’s bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to be remembered, and moves his mouth to an ear, lets Aziraphale hear him pant, feel the warm wet breath and the slick of his tongue as he snakes it out to lick at the spot just behind the earlobe. 

“Yes, there,” escapes Aziraphale’s lips and he has a hand around the back of Crowley’s head, holding him in place. “That feels so wonderful,” he says and it’s entirely for Crowley’s benefit. Aziraphale wants this. “Please,” and Aziraphale’s hand twists in his hair.

Teeth closing around Aziraphale’s earlobe, Crowley does his best not to bite, not to suck too hard, and lets the hand in his hair direct him, listens intently to the hitch in Aziraphale’s breath and the soft little patter of mewls that escape. He likes this. 

Crowley releases the flesh from between his lips and kisses beneath Aziraphale’s jaw, content to lick and kiss and listen to the constant cascade of little happy noises escaping Aziraphale as he works. It is entirely too similar to the sounds he makes each time he pops some decadent canape between his lips and Crowley could listen to it on repeat for a very long time. But then he slips and presses his teeth into the soft flesh where he can feel Aziraphale’s heartbeat in his neck, tastes the skin and the skitter of Aziraphale’s blood rushing beneath and hears the angel breathe out, “Oh, gosh.”  

Crowley pulls back quickly to gauge if that was a good ‘oh gosh’ or a bad one and immediately realizes it’s the former. Aziraphale’s lips are now red and slick and swollen, a bubble of spit caught in the corner of his mouth and sweat glistening on his brow and the apples of his cheeks. His skin’s flushed pink, ears positively burning and his hair has somehow ended up all pushed to the left side. His chest is heaving and all just from kissing. 

The danger of pushing, of going too fast, of losing himself in it comes rushing back to Crowley; he could just take him apart right now, a minor miracle and they’d be naked in a big bed, and could do everything, and pushing for that would likely destroy everything. So, Crowley sucks in a shaky breath and talks himself down, hangs on to the knowledge that Aziraphale wanted this, that he enjoyed this, rough and messy kissing. That, based on the way Aziraphale’s looking at him, he’s going to let him do it all again, and there’s an unbelievable wave of relief that comes with knowing that. 

Crowley blinks, slowly, petting more gently across Aziraphale’s chest and shoulders, smoothing him out and letting the tactile friction of the cloth under his hand sooth him in return. “You…” he starts but falters. “That was okay?” he asks because he still can’t quite believe it. 

“Much, much more than okay,” Aziraphale tells him. “And much more will also be okay, and if it ever isn’t I will tell you, just like you can tell me and it won’t be the end of everything.” 

Crowley believes him and lets out a breath he’s been holding his entire existence. “I really do love you,” he says, feeling it fiercely, twisting up inside him, burning behind his ribs, and prickling at his eyes. 

“Oh, I know,” Aziraphale says as if it’s the simplest truth in the universe. “I know that dear, now come here.” 

Rather than dragging him back in for another searing kiss, Aziraphale coaxes him down slowly, seemingly sensing the shift in Crowley’s heartbeat from desperate wanting to pure relief. Aziraphale guides Crowley with a hand around the back of his head, presses his cheek to his chest, tucking Crowley’s twisted up hair under his chin and smoothing his hands over his back and his face. Crowley’s arms wrap tightly around Aziraphale’s waist, and he squirms into the warmth and the softness beneath him. The relief is still coming in waves, his breathing still slowing incrementally as his heart does the same. 

“You can relax,” Aziraphale says softly, into his hair, before he presses a kiss there. “You should relax.” 

And Crowley does, breathes out and focuses in on the feeling of Aziraphale’s hand stroking down his back. He lets his muscles go limp and his mind go empty and he drifts, safe and content. He wonders for a moment what he’ll eventually do that will make Aziraphale tell him to stop, and then sinks into contemplating all the things he’ll be allowed to do before then. 

He drifts and mumbles some sort of thank you, nuzzling into Aziraphale’s chest, and then he sleeps. 

***

Consciousness takes a hold of him slowly, slipping into his skin and his mind, slowly dispelling the fog of a deep, restful sleep. Aziraphale’s still there underneath him, Crowley can’t feel the arm he has stuck between Aziraphale’s waist and the back of the couch, and there’s a stripe of his belly that’s chilly where his shirt his ridden up to expose it. His face is hot and his chest warm and Aziraphale’s still sitting there, beneath him, breathing steadily and petting his hair. 

Crowley blearily blinks his eyes open to be met only with blackness that slowly gives way to enough deep blue-grey contrast to make out the bookshop around them. There’s no sound out on the street, not a single car or pedestrian passing them by. 

Reluctantly, he pulls his arm free and haphazardly manoeuvres himself back to sitting upright besides Aziraphale on the couch. The brightness in Aziraphale’s eyes confirms that the angel hasn’t dozed off; he so very rarely chooses to. Voice heavy with sleep, Crowley asks, “What time is it?”

Aziraphale looks behind him, casting his eyes over to the grandfather clock that Crowley could just as easily have looked to. “Almost five,” he says, his own voice low and quiet. 

Eyebrows raised, Crowley quickly does the math, approximating something like a ten-hour nap and recognising the patience and stillness that only an angel could have offered him, here on a couch of average comfort. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep on you like that for so long,” he grumbles, gripping his still deadened arm and trying to massage the feeling back into it. 

“Why ever not?” Aziraphale asked, cracking his knuckles and stretching himself out a little. 

Crowley gives him a pointed look. “Because it can’t have been comfortable or entertaining.” He wonders why Aziraphale didn’t at least seem to have grabbed a book to read, there are dozens within reach, both on the desk and the bookshelf behind them. 

Aziraphale shrugs. “Well, no I guess not, but I wanted to,” and he puts extra emphasis on ‘want’. 

Crowley doesn’t really have a retort for that and there is a settling weightlessness about him that makes him sure he’s going to want to sleep curled up with Aziraphale once more sometime soon. Actually, he can’t imagine sleeping alone ever again. 

Aziraphale straightens his waistcoat as he stands up, shaking one leg and then the other. “You talk in your sleep, you know,” he remarks. 

“I absolutely do not.” Demons do not dream, and they definitely do not talk in their sleep. 

“Don’t worry, nothing salacious, just very lovely things, really,” Aziraphale teases. 

Crowley glares at him and feels himself blush, then his lips curl up and contented hopefulness settles like warm honey in his stomach as he rocks up onto his feet, stretching his arms high above his head and wriggling his hips. “You must be starving?” he asks. 

“Positively ravenous,” Aziraphale agrees, making sure Crowley sees him drop his gaze down to his lips and then back up again. Oh, that’s new.  

“It’s almost breakfast time in Antwerp?” Crowley offers and it’s not quite the enticement he was tempted to make but he’s heard delectable things about the waffles from some trendy little shop written up in the weekend paper. It detailed dishes that he’s sure will excite Aziraphale, tickling his tastebuds. Crowley has already looked up the café's opening times and knows they’ll have soft seats, quiet corners, and waffles with fresh berries, ready to serve up at six am which is right about now. 

Aziraphale links his arm through Crowley’s and gives a little shiver of delight. “Sounds scrumptious.”  

[flabby-flattie-fatties]

As is expected with a greedy pig princess like Cait, even a minute is a long time when she's hungry like that.

"Sorry about that, princess. Guess I'll have to be ready for my punishment soon, won't I?" That sly smile of hers plastered over her face, eyes ogling all that wobbling flesh as it bounced from the stomp and turn.

Not that Vi would be reminding her of any of that for now, it was much more fun to let her princess play into her own reality instead of what actually was going on.

"Hmm, I guess I'll really have to deal, because I did happen to buy a few more things. Oops, temptation beat me again~" More like the temptation to make her partner even fatter. "Gonna sit on my back during my pushups this time~?"

Caitlyn shook her head in disappointment “Vi, I know how much you love food, but you seriously have to look after yourself, I won't always be there to look after you, I have a very busy life (complete lies). You need to learn to have some self control, a cop can't be seen eating like a pig" oh, the irony of those words coming out of someone who was too lazy to put on pants.

She scoffed at the idea of the punishment “Something tells me you would enjoy that more than you would hate it. Besides, I'm not that heavy, you would barely even feel it!... Although, that does give me a good idea”

She said, walking over to look down up at her lover. Her belly pressing against her middle, hand moving towards her lips as she looked at her with a mischievous grin.

“Since you have been disregarding my wishes and still continue to call me princess, I think a good punishment will be you having to carry me around everywhere today. Maybe that way you will actually feel it! That, and me sitting on you during the pushups. What do you say, big girl?~" just as Cait said this, her belly let out a hungry growl, truly she had become far too entitled and spoiled

[hamsteroveriord]

i have this idea for like post rebellion madoka magica (this is another long rant post lol)

madoka and homura actually become besties in this new life (with sayaka still friends with madoka but keeps her distance from homura cus yk why)

anyways so theyre besties and homura is so glad that she doesnt have to deal with loosing madoka and restarting over again like she used to :D

....until one day they go to the mall together to go to that cd shop, and while madoka is listening to music she hears something weird. its not like calling her name out but it sounds like its in pain, so madoka leaves without telling homura and tries to locate where the noises were coming from. she gets to an abandoned floor in the mall and finds none other than kyubey !

sounds familiar, right? except kyubey isnt hurt or anything, he just is so much weaker than what he used to be (because of homura) and is basically starving because he actually needs to eat now so she rushs over to kyubey like "what is this thing?? it looks like it needs help..."

before she can even comprehend of what this thing even is, she hears homura calling out her name (cus she did just kinda leave homura alone in the store without warning😅) and madoka just awkwardly shoves kyubey into her school bag.

homura eventually finds her and she looks slightly more freaked out than usual (cus this is how that one timeline in the show started) and madoka is like "oops!! sorry i thought i heard something hahaha!!!" and homura sighs from relief and walks out with madoka , glad that she most likely didnt see a weird problematic creature she absolutely despised (except she did)

madoka thinks about telling homura but gets a chilling vibe from her, so instead when she gets dropped off at her house by homura, she calls sayaka while getting to her room to talk about this weird ass creature she found and sayaka ALREADY knows whats up but pretends not to know because well...yk..

anyways im too lazy to finish writing this concept rn but like if you've read all of what i wrote then thank you :))) maybe I'll draw concept art for it who knows

[saltiestcoconut]

can i request an aiyusa sickfic (either one of them gets sick) 👀 as fluffy or as angsty as you like. thank you in advanced!

This is exactly what you asked for huh nonny? (It is not its more comedic than fluff oops~)

Pairing: aiyusa/aiball Rating: T Content Warnings: None

Friendly reminder that I'm accepting requests for aiyusa prompts (ps if you want an angstier take on this prompt-ish do look forward to aiyusa month~ it's going to be fun!)

Yusaku knew something was wrong when Ai didn't respond first thing in the morning. While laziness was the norm for Ai, he made sure Yusaku had food to eat during the weekdays. 

Yusaku shook Ai's SOLtis, but he was unresponsive. Yusaku shrugged and got ready for school anyways. 

"Bye, Ai. I'm going to school, now, without anything to eat, because I forgot to make food."

No response. Yusaku thought it would be enough to rouse Ai from his stupor. 

Yusaku leaned over Ai, his tie creasing the side of Ai's face. "Ai, I'm leaving. Don't you have something to say to me before I leave?" 

No response. 

Yusaku straighted up, then announced, "I can no longer afford to spend 500 en a month. I'm going to cancel Hulu and instead use the money to invest in crypto." 

Ai shot up. "You wouldn't. You need Spotify to live, you're so addicted to it. Why would you even invest in crypto, invest in me instead I can actually make you money, popular, whatever you want."

Yusaku crossed his arms. "Got you. What's wrong? You were ready to let me walk out without saying bye, or making me eat."

Ai blinked his too long eyelashed, "sorry Yusaku-chan, I couldn't respond to anything today. I think I might have picked up a virus somewhere."

"Were you watching porn again or something?" 

"No! Gosh that was a joke, Yusaku, stop bringing it up all the time!" 

Yusaku smirked, then sat down at his computer. He rummaged around for a few minutes until he was able to slap Ai's porting cable on his desk. "A virus, huh? Then let's take care of that real quick." 

Ai pressed himself against the wall. "Don't you have school? Go to school, and you can deal with this later, I'll be fine." 

"No. School is just a formality, you're more important than anything school has to offer."

Yusaku knew he trapped Ai when Ai's cheeks turned pink and he quickly averted his eyes. "Don't say that…" Ai then pointed an accusatory finger at Yusaku. "You're just using me as an excuse to not go to school!"

Yusaku smiled at Ai. "Turn around, I need to hook you up to the computer." 

"No! Go to school!" 

Yusaku crawled on the bed and tried to turn Ai around. Ai, however, fought Yusaku with gusto. 

"Help! Help! Yusaku-chan is molesting me! I don't want anything to be stuck in me right now!"

"Damnit Ai, we've done this multiple times, why the fuss now?" 

"You need to go to school!"

"Let me take care of you! You're my responsibility, so let me handle this." 

Ai stopped struggling, long enough for Yusaku to tug him closer to the computer.

"You're not… I didn't mean… I'm not something you have to take care of all the time."

Yusaku gathered Ai's hair in a loose ponytail and twisted it into a shitty bun. "I didn't mean it like that. You entrusted me with the cyberse, didn't you? I'm just doing the minimum." 

Yusaku hooked Ai up to the computer. He heard a huff. "Classic Yusaku, not saying what's on his mind. I know what you really mean, though." 

"Do you now?" Yusaku said half-heartedly in favor of scanning Ai's code. As a more complex virus, ordinary anti-virus softwares wouldn't work for Ai. 

"Yeah. I know that you love me, and that you care for me, and what you really wanted to say is that we take care of each other." 

"Yeah… something… like that…" Yusaku trailed off. He had already been absorbed by the task at hand. 

"You're not even paying attention to me," Ai whined. "I thought we were having a heart to heart moment!" 

Yusaku hummed. Finally, he found the virus, which seemed to be the type of virus that gathered information and sent it somewhere else. He carefully dealt with the virus as Ai chanted his name. 

"Yeah, you're right," Yusaku finally said, if only to get him to shut up. 

"So you agree you're emotionally constipated!" 

"Yeah."  

Yusaku finished his sweep of Ai's code and leaned over to power off the SOLtis. He needed to restart the SOLtis to properly rid it of the virus. 

Yusaku detached the cable and casually tossed it aside. While Ai powered back on, Yusaku laid him down and dragged his chair closer to the bed. 

Ai slowly lifted himself from the bed. "What time is it?" 

"Two thirty."

Ai stared at him. "You're the worst." 

"Glad you're okay." 

Ai tugged Yusaku onto the bed. "Your punishment for being such a bad boy is to rest with me." 

"You don't need to sleep off a virus." 

"Yes I do. Let's go to sleep." 

Yusaku was thus forced to spend the rest of the day smothered in Ai's embrace. 

[mlynar-nearl]

heya so sorry i havent asked anything in a long while lifes been really hectic haha and i only rmb'd that i said id ask more after i saw ur latest mytol fic (oops....)

anyways it was a really beautiful fic !! i really like the way you write about uncle nearls grief and the way he and toland just go through it, one step at a time, but only when uncle is ready to move on and all. i just think its really neat man....

also on another thought i would love to hear more about ur oc (as always!) how do you think hed fare as a deployed operator tbh ? like putting him into ingame contexts such as uh trials of navigators/is2/sss settings, how do you think hed react? since technically such enemies are pretty... uhm, lets just say the power lvl in ak is cracked. yeah, so how do you think shealtiel would do ? im just curious to know more ww and i think putting them into ingame contexts are cool and fun (hehe) ps trials of navigators is.... i hate the ultimate trial and i hate mandragora i havent started ch 9 out of laziness but i hate her so much alr also wow this is a very long ask im very sorry haha i hope ur well <3

LMAO no please don't worry and take care of yourself! glad you liked the fic, i think grief is such an integral part of who mlynar is and how he interfaces with the world right now. think i made a post about that last night. he grieves for his brother and SIL so, so deeply, and you can see the through-line to why he's so against what his nieces are doing. he doesn't want to lose them, too.

as for my oc! shealtiel! i love him!

i think in terms of gameplay he would unfortunately be pretty niche, but niche in a way that i specifically enjoy, haha. i've said in response to another anon (unless that was you? dunno) that he would be my personal favorite archetype, the deadeye sniper, with a focus on debuffs/crowd control. fartooth is one of my favorite units (eternally glad i built her) and i think she doesn't get nearly enough credit for what she can do if set up correctly. i think shealtiel would need a functionality similar to fartooth's dodge ignore to see stronger use in things like IS and TFN, but in my experience, snipers fall off so hard in SSS that i see basically no way to legitimize any but the strongest of snipers (chalter, pozy.) i think that the funniest/ideal thing for his lore would be that he works very well as a counter to enemies and bosses like andoain, who rely on not being blocked and high dodge when he sets down the dodge field. since andoain is his mortal enemy (?) (questionable at best) it makes sense for him to be a concerted counter to these things. plus, the grappling rope arts i gave him just applies well to crowd control, and that would probably see the most effect on enemies that are unblocked/cannot be blocked.

i'm so sorry about mandra. she's suuuch an annoying boss sometimes. my pro tip is that in her second phase you can bait her into dropping the pillars on herself with a FRD or similar and the pillars deal her true damage. you can also bait her laser beam by dropping two ops on her. eg surtr + nearlter s2 where surtr baits the laser beam and nearlter does the real damage. or use ranged damage to keep her from having anything to attack (gg, pozy typewriter, my beloved fartooth although the last section of ultimate trial has very few fartooth lanes). hope this helps !

[abbinurmel]

This. Like I truly do not understand the drama on most people's parts- actually even from the trans side on some few occasions too. It's a big different deal whenever someone is openly mocking you, threatening you, or even a loved one saying they care about you but still refuse to keep to your chosen monikers or pronouns out of discomfort or laziness, versus someone just making an accidental wrong guess, or unaware that is even a selection, in the first place. It isn't hard to slip one's tongue, and call your teacher or neighbor friend by the wrong name, especially if mentally preoccupied, or not know over the phone what one looks like, based off a voice.

But when I make a mistake, which happens often at work, guessing some person's gender, or sex, and someone, not even usually trans, just someone maybe with an androgynous voice or haircut, or maybe a cis girl has a deeper voice/short hair, or a guy has a higher voice/longer hair, tells me over the phone or in the shop they are a guy or girl, I just say "ok, oops, sorry bout that-"....And get on with my day. Nobody has to make a big deal about any of this. Not one thing has changed between us, and it always shouldn't have to, unless you are sex partners and need to know these things for established trust in health and family planning issues... You just try to remember to refer them as such, whatever they asked for, and it doesn't matter WHY or even how socially/scientifically truthful it even is! Which is usually the case. But even if we play Devil's Advocate to this conservative idea, that it's all false, all trans people are liars, or delusional folks?-It. Really. Really really really doesn't. Even. MATTER. Who the fuck cares. So what. As if we don't live among cis people already believing they can be things they are not, or putting on costumes or social charades in some other form. As if we all never have shared a porta John before, or shared another person's bathroom, which is used by multiple genders. As if we never have had to swim in the same pools, or share the same media. As if we never all once put on a wig or a top hat or a prop for some class play or project or a joke for a party for five seconds, that didn't match our assigned gender. Who. The fuck. Cares. Is it about indecency? Who said only the opposite sex has indecency? Have you never been in a locker room? Are your fellow cis guys or cis girls any less prone to indecent behavior or crude language, or openly gross biologically than anyone else that is not cis? This isn't about protecting girls, because a r*pist doesn't look at a sign on a door which says 🚺 , do you really think they go "WOOAH HOLD STEADY THERE I CAN'T GO IN *THAT* PLACE, THAT SAYS IT IS FOR *GIRLS!* 😱"

If they want to be called something, be it because they are truly a male or female, be it spiritually at heart or in body, or 'faking' being someone they are not for any other personal motives, that is not any of your business. You're not that person. It is their situation, not yours, to deal with it feels being 'correct' or not. f they are a customer and they ask to be referred to as 'The Big Deal', or 'Milo McCheese the King of Dairy's I seriously dgaf. That's your choice and it's not mine to make for you. No matter whether it is cos its just their prefered nicknames, or just a title they wanna mess with me with, I suffer 100% no harm by using that name, out of simple courtesy for their wishes. It doesn't matter if it ever feels silly. It's just right. You just be nice, and accept people whenever they ask you nicely to permit them something harmless, or tell you they have to do things 'this certain way' because X, even if X is beyond you to relate with. They are not someone that is manipulating or abusing you with that single request, and so you just DO IT. Asking for a new name or a pronoun is not abuse. It's just explanation of an inner need and chosen identity. If you don't like or agree with that identity, then that's on you, you can't be made to. But you have no reason to berate other people, minding their own business, or just telling you this is how it simply is, for them, that you will be refusing to treat them with basic respect, out of turning out being different from the general expectation you had before knowing them.

For instance. See, I do not personally like anchovies on pizza. I really really do not. Many folks don't. But if I ever worked at a pizza place, I wouldn't tell a customer who asked for some buzz off. That's common sense. aAd you wouldn't ever tell people placing anchovy topping orders on the phone that they are crazy or deserve death for it either. No matter even if you think anchovy is the grossest of them all would you say that. All that happens is you give them the little pizza fishes, and they go on HAPPILY to live their little fish eating lives and you go on HAPPILY still eating mushroom or banana or whatever it is you eat on pizzas. No matter how much I may dislike the taste, some people just do, and that's fine. That's all that happens. You live in a world with people eating also sometimes anchovies in it. Everyone out there thinking different pizza toppings are the best ones. Just show everyone love and live among it all. Sheesh.

Reblog if you 100% okay with a transgender person correcting you if you accidentally misgender them or use their dead name.

please do

[volleychumps]

Defending S/O From Jealous Girls (Kuroo, Kageyama, and Tsukishima )

enjoy!!!!

warning(s):bullying!!!(tw) , boys who bite at anything that touches you<3

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

Kuroo

“Oops! My bad, Y/N- you should really watch where you’re going.” 

You rub your shoulder with a frown as the long-haired girl in front of you feigns innocence, eyes glinting with a venemous edge before you huff, leaning down to pick up your phone. A hand beats you to it, snatching the device in a way that had you flinching before a hand settles warmly atop your head. 

“Kitten, you good?” 

Of course. 

You sigh, seeing that the girl who had an obvious crush on your boyfriend had stepped to the side, lock of hair already twirled around her finger while her lips curled up in a flirtatious smile. Kuroo kept his feral eyes on you with a questioning look in his eyes as you offer a strained grin, taking the phone from him before glancing at the perpetrator. 

“Rika, did you need something?” 

“Kuroo-senpai, can I ask for your help on this upcoming assignment?” 

She blatantly ignores you, but Kuroo kept his gaze focused on your now shattered expression, seeing you hadn’t answered his original question. Distractedly, he merely shrugs at Rika before slipping his hand warmly into yours, tugging you along gently down the hall. 

The pissed-off expression of Rika’s still went unnoticed as you smile gratefully, following him along as Kuroo slips your conjoined hands into his jacket pocket. Feral eyes glance at your tired expression as Kuroo stops in the middle of the now empty hall, causing you to blink out of your thoughts. 

“Tetsurou, we need to get to class-” 

“Whatever you’re thinking about, quit it.” 

You tilt your head as if you don’t know what he’s talking about, plastic smile already tugging at the edge of your lips. 

“Huh-?” 

“Babe.” 

Kuroo’s motions are careful as his large hands rest on either side of your neck, thumbs gently tracing the contour of your cheeks as his sharp eyes seem to pin you in place. His chest sinks when the smile on your face slowly fades, your eyes brimming with unshed heat before he sighs. 

“How long?” 

“What-?” 

“I’m not dumb, sweetheart. So you either give me names and how long they’ve been giving you shit- or I interrogate any female I’ve ever seen you with. Your choice.” 

“...Rika’s really pretty, no?” Your voice cracks, smiling sadly as insecurity brims your tone, Kuroo’s grip on you seeming to weaken at your words. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m just not-” 

“I will take you right here, in the middle of this hall.” 

“Tetsurou-!” You scold, a smirk crossing Kuroo’s lazy features before he tugs you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck seemingly deep in thought as the raven-haired boy strokes your hair. He mumbles, other hand wrapped around your body protectively as his lips move against the top of your head. 

“If it makes you realize how beautiful you actually are, kitten, I don’t object-” 

“I can’t stand you sometimes.” 

“So...no?” 

Kuroo grins at the feel of your laughter against his neck, lifting your chin upwards to encase your lips with his heatedly as your figners clench at the back of his shirt material-

sharp eyes flitting in the direction of a teary-eyed Rika.

 She runs off from her hiding place when he makes threatening eye contact with her in the midst of kissing you harder, hand on the back of your hair entwining with the strands for effect. One was off the list now, for sure. 

“Names, sweetheart.” He pulls back gently, kissing your slightly swollen eyelid as his thumb strokes your cheek lovingly. 

“I want them by the end of the day.” 

Kageyama

“Oi. Snap out of it.” 

Your dazed expression becomes alert at the feel of Kageyama touching a cold can against your cheek, the blue-eyed boy arching his brow in worry. 

“Sorry, um...” You seem frazzled, looking over your shoulder now and then as Kageyama casts you a second worried glance as he occupies the space next to you on the school bench. He pokes the straw into his milk, casually tossing an arm around you afterward-

certainly not expecting to hear a yelp. 

He flinches, retracting his arm back in a jerking motion. “What?! What’s wrong?” 

“My shoulder...” You clench your teeth. “It’s really sore.” 

“Did you bump it against something?” Kageyama sweat dropped, reaching a hand up to rest on the back of his neck worriedly. The awkward tension in his movements made you laugh, but it came out a little forced. 

“Nope. I’m going to get some relieving patches from the nurse’s office, don’t wait up!” You seemed skittish, the pained look in your eye not going unnoticed by your analytical boyfriend. His calls for you died on the blue-eyed boy’s lips, sighing when you’re so rushed you leave your phone behind. 

He picks it up, about to slip it into his bag to give it to you later, until your phone lights up with a text message-

multiple text messages. 

Kageyama’s blue eyes scan them before he can think. He hadn’t meant to read your messages, but he’s suddenly glad he stumbled upon them. The word bitch was prominently used, attacking you for dating the popular setter. Kageyama could feel heat rush to his head, jaw clenching at what he was reading. 

If yesterday’s lesson didn’t teach you enough, it won’t just be your shoulder next time. 

He lifted himself out of his seat, milk box crushed within his fist. Blue orbs barely scanned the name of the sender, thanking his good memory for remembering such a useless girl. She was in your class, and he briefly remember you awkwardly bringing her up. 

“Tobio, I told you not to wait-” 

“Come on.” 

Your eyes widen when Kageyama tugs on your good arm, the aura around him borderline dangerous. Worriedly, your questions of where he was bringing you failed to drown out the ringing in your boyfriend’s ears. 

“You don’t like holding hands in front of people-” You start, cheeks heating up when you reach the front of your classroom. 

“Y/N. You know you can trust me, right?” He’s still not looking at you, staring stoically at the shut classroom door. 

Subconsciously, you touch your shoulder as guilt brims your orbs. “I didn’t want to make it difficult for you-”

“Well, that’s fine.” You tilt your head as Kageyama slams the door open, glancing back at you with anger swimming in his blue orbs. 

“Because this shouldn’t be difficult.” 

You held back a sigh. Kageyama was the type to deal with these types of things head on, for the raven-haired boy never really cared much about what people thought of him. You embarrassedly trudge behind him as he walks in with ease, stopping in front of a certain someone’s desk that had your breath catching in your throat. Everything begins to make sense when Kageyama slips your phone out of his pocket. 

“You have a crush on me or something?” He bluntly asks, disinterest flitting around his blue eyes as you watch your bully’s jaw slacken, cheeks filling with embarrassment. “Is that why you’ve been harassing my girlfriend?” 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kageyama-Kun!” 

You shouldn’t have felt as justified as you did as Kageyama lets your phone fall on her desk, the messages staring back up at her as Aika’s eyes brim with unshed tears. 

“Expect an assault charge reported to the school tomorrow. Good job digging your own grave.” Kageyama’s cold voice sent a collective shiver down everyone’s spine before he promptly tugs you out of the classroom. You barely caught a glance at Aika’s trembling form before Kageyama’s leaning you against the now empty hallway. 

Lunchtime was over now, that was for sure. 

“Tobio, you didn’t-” 

“Let me adjust your patch. You didn’t put it on right.” He ignores you, still sorting out his emotions before he’s gently tugging your shirt off your shoulder slightly, peeling the patch off of your skin to reposition it.

“Are you mad?” Your voice was quiet as he solely focused on the task at hand. 

“Yeah.” You flinch, feeling guilty at his blunt tone- 

until his forehead touches your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin. 

“You know I’ll protect you no matter what, right?” 

Kageyama’s chest finally settled, feeling tears of relief beginning to soak his shoulder as you smiled into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.

“Yeah.” You breathily laugh, Kageyama’s grip tightening slightly- 

And he dug his face deeper into your shoulder, hiding a small lilt of his lips he didn’t want you to see. 

Tsukishima

“You’re late.” 

“I told you I wouldn’t miss it.” 

You beam in the face of your unamused boyfriend, the blonde sighing heavily as the squeak of sneakers fade out into the background. What mattered was that you came. 

“Any particular reason?” Tsukishima absent-mindedly twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, tilting his head in a bored fashion as you seem to stiffen in place.

“Um, no?” 

“Who knew my girlfriend was such a terrible liar.” Tsukishima pried further, arching a brow as you chew your bottom lip, looking everywhere but him. “Seriously, what’s going through that pretty little head?” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You seem to perk up at that, and Tsukishima flicks your temple as he begins to walk off to warm up. 

“Shut up.” He glances back at you, gaze softer than his usual hard stare. 

“...”

“What?” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Really? I didn’t notice.” 

Tsukishima’s irritation begins to show on his face before you giggle, feeling more relaxed than before as you motion that you’re going to find your seat.  You mouth a good luck to him, pretending not to notice the redness on the tips of the blonde’s ears as he spins on his heel hastily. So cute. 

Your smile fades when a smile that was just a bit too wide waves you to come sit with them. You wondered if you had a choice as your footsteps slow in their movement. 

“Y/N’s here~” 

“Looks like you can see after all. I underestimated you.” 

“Wha- You’re the one with the glasses!” 

Tsukishima smirks at how easy it was to rile Hinata up, hazel eyes flitting over to the stands. He would never admit it, but knowing you were in the bleachers somewhere-

Scratch that. He knew exactly where you were on the bleachers. 

Ice-cold, dripping with water. A water bottle being held upside down in a girl’s grasp, a girl who was vaguely familiar. 

“Tsukishima, we’re about to play-!” 

“Then put someone else in.” The tall blonde’s voice was hardened as he brushed past his team captain, fire on his heels at what he had witnessed. 

The heat in your eyes contrasted greatly with the ice cold water dripping down your back. Yuki giggled brightly with her friend stifling a laugh into her palm, a feigned pout on her lips as everyone in the stands stared at your trembling form. 

“Y/N-chan! You’re so clumsy!” Yuki squealed, bending down to pretend to wipe up some of the water on your lap with her scarf. Her voice drops to a mutter. “And forgetful. Didn’t I tell you not to come to Tsukishima-Kun’s game today?” 

Your eyes widen a fraction, trembling lips beginning to part before a warmth suddenly cascades your cold body. 

“And pray tell, why should she listen to your advice?” 

Tsukishima’s voice sounded kind, but his eyes were anything but, protectively tugging you out of your soaking seat. You feel the rise of his chest, eyes widening when you realize he ran to get here. 

Yuki’s lips trembled before a sweet smile overtakes her features. You could’ve laughed as she begins to sniffle. 

“Kei-Kun! Y/N-chan had a little bit of a spill, and I was just-” 

“Helping her?” He finishes for her, smile growing a little sadistic. He focuses his attention on you, clenching his teeth at the smile you offer him. A trembling one that said I’m okay. 

“Funny. Because I saw the whole thing.”

“I-It’s a misunderstanding-” 

“Oi.” Tsukishima’s fake smile drops, jaw clenched. You tug on his arm, not wanting to cause a scene, but he merely slips it out of your grasp, pushing you behind him. His glasses seem to shine a little as his lips quirk up yet again. 

“Ugly girls shouldn’t lie, it leaves them with nothing worth doting for, you know? Hm?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling a closed eye smile. “And who gave you permission to call me by my first name? It’s Tsukishima. With an honorific.” 

You wince at the harsh insult that slaps Yuki across the face, flabbergasted expression still evident on your face as he takes you by the shoulders, spinning you around with a now pissed-off expression. 

“Yuri.” He looks back, getting her name wrong on purpose. “Don’t let me catch you helping my girlfriend again, got it?” 

She hiccups over her tears as the guy she likes walks off with you, who was still trying to grasp at what had just happened as he leads you to the hallway. 

“Y-You’re match is on right now-” 

“So?” 

“You’re a regular! You need to be-” 

“Shut up. I know exactly where I need to be right now.” Tsukishima snips, drying off the rest of the water as he kneels in front of you, a cup of hot tea from the vending machine warming your hands. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Kei...” 

“I’m sorry.” It comes out rushed and distracted, but Tsukishima’s momentary pause of his movements made you think it was anything but. “They bothered you because of me, right?” 

You nod slightly, biting the inside of your cheek before he flicks your temple, suddenly irritated. 

“What a pain.” 

“Why-?” 

You gasp softly, hands tightening around your paper cup as he brushes his lips across your forehead, hand resting on your neck. 

“Tell me when things happen.” 

“Mm.” 

“Don’t bottle it up inside. It’s annoying.” 

“Mm.” 

“And stop smiling like an idiot.” 

“But you kissed me. You kissed me first.” 

“I’ll leave you here.” 

“No you won’t.” 

Tsukishima groaned, tilting his head back to sigh heavily as his heart pounds in his ears. Quickly, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips that has your eyes as wide as saucers, tugging you out of your seated position while refusing to look back at you. 

“You’re right,” You stare at his flushed neck, following closely behind him back to the tournament. 

His hand tightens in yours ever so slightly-

“I’m never leaving you alone like that again. Understand? Or do I have to spell it out for you?” 

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla  @faesbae  @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046   @let-me-have-my-own-name  @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite   @curiouslilbeast  @aprettyfruit   @wisepandaslimeland   @h0ngh0ngh0ng   @lmkjimin   @orangegiraffe7   @dai-tsukki-desu   @kac-chowsballs   @spikertrash   @yamaguwuchi   @lord-suneater-explosion   @holaaaf  @babyybokutoakaashi   @lexysclubhouse   @disneyloving-muggle   @kuuuuroo   @theonep1ece  @that-chick212  @mjoork

[skrunklybf-archived]

hi Rory 🥺👉👈 if you’re up for it could you try “Always finding excuses to stay with each other” from the prompt list with Bertholdt?

: ̗̀➛ ❝ 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎! ❞

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: bertholdt x reader

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: oblivious pining prompts, i give bertie a heart attack in everything i write him in oops, fluff fluff

hi tado baby <3 hehe sorry this took a lil bit i just saw it in my inbox!! ily!!

𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍!

it wasn't easy being part of a package deal in the friend group you had.

the teasing? relentless. the jokes? occasionally obscene (thanks, zeke). but as much as your friends liked to grate your nerves and render your twin flame a sputtering mess, they meant well; at least, most of them did. you couldn't be bothered to explain your friendship with bertholdt for what would've been the millionth time -- so you let them think whatever they wanted to. but, you had to admit... you did do everything together.

you thought about this as your giant of a best friend gingerly handed you your go-to coffee order.

"do we look like a couple?"

and he paused, eyes growing a little wide as you examined him. "i, uh... what do you mean?"

you sipped your drink, relaxing back into the passenger seat. this was a typical morning, if neither of you had to work: get coffee, drive around, maybe hit up a farmers market or just be lazy in one of your homes. bertholdt shifted into drive and, with twitchy fingers, steered you both toward the apartment he shared with your other friend, reiner.

"well, y'know, everyone says we're together, even though we're not. i was just wondering..." you trailed off, shrugging noncommittally, and watched his chest rise and fall a little deeper than before.

bert glanced at you from the corner of his eye. a few moments of comfortable quiet passed before he opened his mouth to speak his piece. "well, i... can kind of see where they're coming from, i-i guess. we hang out a lot."

you smiled a bit. "you know everything i'll order everywhere we go."

"that's because you get the same thing every time."

"not the point!"

bertholdt chuckled, smoothing over a turn in the road. he reached deftly at the center console for his drink. "i guess it doesn't help that you come see me at work, too." but, instead of the plastic lid, his fingers found yours. he only halted for a moment before quickly grabbing his coffee and busying his lips with it.

you hummed. "well, they can think what they want," and when he returned the cup back into his holder, you stole his hand before it could grasp the wheel again, "i don't really care. i just like spending time with you."

his mouth dried up. he hoped to whatever higher power that you wouldn't feel just how sweaty his hands were getting. "i like spending time with you, too."

by the time you reached his apartment, a flush had developed over bertholdt's face that refused to budge. he opened the front door for you, as always, but reiner's curious gaze felt heavy, heavier than usual as you both strolled inside. you seemed nonchalant, breezing past the blonde with a simple greeting, but bertholdt remained rigid as he trailed behind, following much like a lost puppy in a daze.

reiner arched a brow, finding this much more entertaining than the local news that drawled on in the background.

"did i miss something?" he asked, looking pointedly at his roommate. bertholdt shrunk under his watchful eye.

"nothing new." you quipped back. smiling, you grabbed for bertholdt's hand and began to drag him away toward his room, your home away from home and shared fortress of solitude. "later, rei."

the men exchanged glances: one playful, one sheepish.

"later, lovebirds."