#or like gloat when they lose or whatevs

[sergeifyodorov]

say it on main with your chest

no :thumbsup:

[neovillains]

GINGERBREAD HOUSE | NANAMI KENTO

syn. nanami never made himself to be a jack of all trades, but he thought building a gingerbread house would be this difficult.

── nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, slight food play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, heavy doting & lots of kissing, sickeningly sweet & loving smut | 4.0k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact )

note. this was my submission for my cookbook collaboration. . . please take this as an apology.

He squinted heavily as he held the piping bag, constantly shifting and moving his hold on it as he tried to remain steady. Heart racing as he held his breath, he glanced your way. You were well-concentrated at the task at hand as well, eyebrows knitted together as your tongue poked out. Your piping bag held accurately as you’re already on the next side of the gingerbread house, the semi-circular shingles of the roof perfectly aligned with white frosting. How are you doing it so perfectly? 

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say. You didn’t need to look at Nanami's way to feel the tense air, how his hands trembled and practically shook the table, calling you to be extra careful in this friendly competition. 

You had bought two sets of gingerbread houses, elated when you saw them at the store while grocery shopping a couple of days ago. You didn’t think twice about it then, coming home to spark up the idea of seeing who can make better gingerbread houses. You knew that Nanami was always down for whatever, making sure to align time in his schedule to accommodate you, his lovely wife. 

Initially when he agreed, he didn’t think it could be so hard to decorate huge chunks of cookie, thinking it would be an easy challenge. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he did have a competitive side to him. You knew that, even though he always tried to deny it, so seeing him now, struggling over something and the anxiety of possibly losing protruding off of him, was quite comical. “Just… relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nanami grumbles, a vein running along his forehead as his face reddened from absentmindedly holding his breath. “Yours looks perfect.” 

There it is, you giggled to yourself, a devious smile on your face as you kept your eyes on your gingerbread house. You had to admit to yourself, it was coming out better than you initially thought it would. You don’t blame your husband for his envy— not one bit. However, you wouldn’t be a good wife if you gloated, but then again, no couple was perfect. “It is, isn’t it?”

Finally, you look over at your husband’s side of the table, taking in the horrendous sight that is his gingerbread house. You had to swallow back your laughter as your eyes slightly bulged out. He had gotten it to stand on the four walls, but it was lopsided. It was as though if you were to blow on it with one huff, it would fall down. The icing was in disarray, deeply contrasting from your tidy and curved strokes, as his went in every which direction they wanted to and most of it was smudged. It was a disastrous sight that Hansel and Gretel would never step foot into. 

“Yours, on the otherhand…” You trail off with a playful grimace, biting on your bottom lip as you dragged out a “hmmmmm…”

Nanami dropped his piping bag down at your teasing, face falling in a deadpan expression that wanted to crack when he saw you trying to hold in your laughter. The corners of his lips curved up as he crossed his arms. “I’m starting to think you wanted me to fail.”

You faltered, a grin plastered on your face as your nose scrunched up. “No, I didn’t.”

There was some truth in your admittance. You never started this to see Nanami be bad at it, only wanting to draw out that competitive nature he subdued so much. You enjoyed seeing the fire in his eyes when he felt like he was going to win, how he’d get so motivated to do something. However, he was also a cute sore loser and he’d silently sulk throughout the day because of his loss. But, most of all, you just wanted to spend some quality time with your husband as the holidays drew near and his work days became longer. Building these gingerbread houses together was a way to be together. 

“Mmm,” Nanami hums in faux pondering as he draws near you, caging you against the table. “No, I think you did.”

You set down your piping bag next on the table, feeling Nanami’s hands pull you into him as you giggle, shaking your head in protest. “No, you’re just bad at this.”

He cocks up an eyebrow, still questioning your true intentions. One hand slithers away from your waist, reaching further behind you to swipe away at your frosting. You watch his actions, gasping as he messes up your fine work. You push at his chest, watching how he sucks off his fingers with a hearty chuckle despite your “hey!” You pout as your husband tries to go for another swipe, but you slap away his hand just in time. “Just because your work is botched, doesn’t mean you can make mine the same.”

“Don’t worry,” Nanami hums. “I’ll fix it back for you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as he snickers. “Oh, you mean, you’ll just ruin it even more. No, thanks.”

“What are we even supposed to do with them afterwards? Eat them?” Nanami asks, not used to your western customs.

“No,” you snort. “Throw them away. Gingerbread houses taste disgusting.”

“What?” he asks, shocked. “So, you just bought these to let them get on my nerves and then throw them away?”

“I love it when you get all whiny,” you comment, before shaking your head. “But, no. I bought them because I thought it would be a fun thing to do. I didn’t expect you to fail so badly.”

“Y’know, you could’ve sugarcoated it a bit,” Nanami frowns, leaning into you, his breath dancing against your skin. “Make me feel like I didn’t do half as bad as I actually did.”

“I could’ve,” you frown, meeting him halfway, feeling the heat of each other’s skin. “‘M sorry.”

“You’re all forgiven,” Nanami chuckles. He loves the taste of you against his lips, how when he reaches up to caress your face, it melds so well into his hands, like you’re just the perfect fit. He loves how you just melt into him no matter what, putting in all the trust in him that he’ll keep you afloat. Whenever he kisses you, he feels whole— like both of you are sharing one breath. 

He pulls you closer into him, hands wrapped around your waist, tugging at the silk fabric of your robe, bunching it up together as he grips you tightly. Your nails dig through the cotton of his t-shirt, arms wrapped around his neck as you meet his love with your lips. You sigh in contempt, tasting the sweetness of the frosting on his tongue as he explores you. It pulls a moan from your tantalizing lips, making him want more in a matter of seconds the longer the two of you stay like this. 

And he feels like the sun in your arms, the heat of his skin wrapped around you like a comfortable weighted blanket. They hold you with security, even as they begin to travel down your body. The palm of his hands are smooth, fingers behind your lower thigh before hoisting your leg up to his waist. Nanami grounds himself into you, his growing erection becoming more prominent with the seconds passing. You’re so willing to reciprocate your name, hips bucking into him as your nails dig continue digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

Nanami hoists you up on the table, fingers digging into your lower back as he becomes needier for you as he leans further into you. You nearly lose your balance, hands hitting Nanami’s ruined art and tumbling down. Both of you retract and you can’t hold back the snort that leaves you while Nanami playfully rolls his eyes. “You just had to go and make it worse.”

“It’s your fault,” you giggle, bringing your hand to taste the frosting that’s got on you. Nanami watches carefully, watching how your tongue sticks out sucking off the sweet and white dessert off of your fingers. It has his cock twitching inside of his pants, wanting nothing more than to have you right on this table. Instead, however, he nips at your bottom lip, his brown eyes hooded. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Chaste little kisses that traverse from the corner of your lips to your cheeks and down to the nape of your neck, each one filled with his love and need for you as he takes more time with each one. He adjusts the bonnet on your head, moving it out of his way as he hyper-fixates on this one particular spot. Your breathing becomes staggered, a moan being pulled from your lips as your grip on your husband tightens. “Is— Is this my pr-prize… for winning?”

He creates a dark blotched spot on your delicate skin, prideful of his marvelous work as he pulls away. He inhales you, his nose drawing a line to the crevice of your breasts, smelling the faint scent of the twisted peppermint body mist that you sprayed on in the early morning after stepping out of the shower. He finds everything about you addicting, finds every nook and cranny of your body to be a perfection that he’s been blessed to have. He’s not ignoring you on purpose, so caught up in everything that’s you that he’s momentarily forgotten what was even asked. “It could,” he hums. “If you want it to be.”

“I’d like it to,” you breathe. 

“Then, I better do a good job, huh?” Nanami chuckles, retreating back to your cleavage. His fingers play with the silky string of your robe before it falls with the rest of the garment, the sleeves of it slipping off of your shoulders, revealing your bare upper body to be marveled by your husband. He creates dark blotches in your skin, covering them in his love marks as he takes his precious time. Arousal pools from you, and with your lack of clothing and certainly your lack of underwear, it drips from your sweet cunt down to the fabric underneath as it remains untouched for the time being. 

You remain as salacious as you’ve been since the first time he’s tasted you, lips wrapping around your left areola, tonguing at your dark nub with such a dangerous need that you fear you might lactate. He always finds himself enamored with your body, where he could spend hours if you allowed him, fixated with a specific area. For an ample amount of time, his lips jump from one breast to another to create sweet hickeys and plastering his love onto your nipples— kissing, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin before you have to forcefully pry him off you.

“Kento…” you whine, finally managing to pull him away. Gently connecting foreheads, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, a sweet one that lasts for a mere couple of seconds before you’re retracting once more. “Kento…”

“What?” he grumbles, his voice coarse as he frowns. “Why won’t my wife let me love on her?”

“Because your wife has other places she wants to be loved on, too,” you pout, lolling your head to the side. 

“Have I ever told you that patience is a virtue?” Nanami hums, pulling at your bottom lip with his. You can’t help but nudge him.

“Yeah, and too much can hurt you,” you retort. “So, I don’t think it’s best to keep me waiting much longer.”

He snorts at your rebuttal, but giving into your needs nonetheless as he drops to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him and shifting your robe out of the way to reveal your beautiful pussy. Oh, how it glistens with your love for him, your juices decorating your folds in something sweeter than the gumdrops and candy-coated chocolate pieces laying in bowls. His painfully hard cock sitting in his pants stirs in need for you as he drags your hips closer to the edge of the table. A whisper comes out, “You’re so wet for me.”

“Aren’t I always,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip as you shimmy your hips closer to him in anticipation. 

In every moment that he spends with you, Nanami cherishes it, always thinking that he’s the luckiest guy to have a partner that is as amazing as you. He holds so much love for you that it’s suffocating. A deep fire that settles on his chest, where times like these are detrimental. You have to catch yourself, nearly screaming out in fright when Nanami pulls you down to give your cunt a taste. Your heart races from the quick scare as well as the feeling of the wet pink muscle that glides against your clit. The dark nub that pulsates in its pleasure as Nanami has a tight hold on you, leaving you secure in his arms. 

He’s so gentle with your pussy, the way he laps at it. Soft and tandem kisses placed with the utmost care before his tongue dives in between your folds, loving the way your juices pour out on his tongue. You’re insatiable, your pussy calling out his name as he plants feverish kisses on it. He salivates, further lubricating your cunt as he hums and moans against you. He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain of the marble tiles already biting him in the ass. 

Your moans are high-pitched and proving to be torture to your dear husband’s erection as precum leaks from his urethra, the tip of it rubbing against the cotton restraints of his boxer briefs. Your body struggles to decide what it wants, twisting and squirming but ultimately wanting more. Your arms grow weak as you try to find leverage, this time knocking down your own gingerbread house as you hear the pieces beginning to fall. Hand covered in frosting, you’re about to wipe it off on the table when you feel Nanami’s strong arms wrap around your waist, retracting his lips from you. 

“Don’t,” he says, taking your hand and putting it to his lips. The sultry sight only continues to make your pussy salivate, your slick dribbling down in a web pointed towards the ground as you watch Nanami clean you off, only leaving a wet trail of his spit behind. A ‘fuck’ falls from you as your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you buck your hips out. The action sparks an idea in Nanami’s mind, his piping bag reaching lengths where he only has to stretch out and grab it without much effort. 

Your eyes follow him, where the moment it’s in his hands, you can already see the gears shifting inside of his mind. Nanami fixes you back on the table, a few drops of frosting hitting the ground before letting out a sigh. “Lay down for me?”

All it takes is a quick nod from you before Nanami’s helping you lay down, shifting the confectionate houses aside to have you well situated, guiding you to lay down without hitting your head or anything stabbing you in your back.

With the piping bag in hand, he raises it as the contents continue to drip and fall down, making a mess that’ll wait to be cleaned up. You can’t help but giggle, smiling as you peer up at your husband. “Y’sure you know what you’re doing with that?”

“For someone who wants her prize,” Nanami starts, “You’re sure working on losing it fast.”

“You wouldn’t dare stop.”

“I would.” He doesn’t however, using the piping bag to draw horrible art against your bare skin. It tickles, making your body flex and contract when the frosting touches you. You can’t control the small giggles and laughs that fall from your lips. And it’s so contagious as Nanami can’t help but join in with you. He’s painted a masterpiece in his eyes, drawing the shape of you as white traverses from your lips to the shape of your breasts down to your thighs. You look marvelous in his eyes, only a treat waiting to be devoured in its fullest glory. He feels like a god with you being his pretty little offering, prepped by his people. 

The wooden table creaks with his weight, leaning down to capture you. The frosting smudges, his tongue reaching to eat the delicacy. It’s a messy sight, one that an artist would be captivated to capture on their canvas, watching how Nanami inches downward. Your hands go to tangle themselves in his blonde locks, massaging his scalp as he creates more darkened artwork into your neck. 

The salt of your skin mixed with the sweet sugar is a combination perfection as he goes and goes further down your body. He grabs at your thighs, the frosting that covers them sticking to him but not something he’ll fret about now as he grounds himself against your wet pussy. And when he’s truly satisfied, believing that he’s baptized you in his spit, the white that contrasts the skin of your upper thighs still waits to be devoured. They’re clean in a matter of seconds as Nanami’s patience wears thin, your legs back open as the vulnerable are exposed to his taking. Some of the frosting has found its way to the curls of your pubes, which Nanami has no shame in wiping clean. He takes a moment to inhale you, his nose nuzzling into the warmth of you before kissing your clit.

“Gosh,” he groans. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

You bring yourself to sit up as Nanami comes back to his feet. He strips himself of the t-shirt, the excess frosting making a mess of his face in the process. Before he can get himself out of his pants, you’re pulling him by the back of his neck. Your tongue sticks out, swiping at the grains of frosting on his cheek. “So are you.”

You suck the air out of him, always managing to have stars form in his eyes. These subtle things that you’re not aware of all the time, whether it’s something as mundane as cooking dinner or now, where you have somehow managed to one-up him at his own game. He’s completely bare in a matter of seconds, panting pooling at his feet before he’s kicking them off and his cock springs free. His tip is red in need as his length stands prominent against his abdomen. His tip kisses your clit before it pokes at your entrance.

“C’mon, Kento.” Your hands tremble in anticipation, where you have to hold your weight using your elbows. 

“You’re so impatient, doll,” he breathes. Despite the statement, the head of cock is quick to push through your entrance, making you mewl out from the stretch. No matter how many times he’s been sheathed inside of you, you’re as tight as the day he first had you. Your juices make it easy with each and every push of his length inside of you, not stopping until his pelvis meets yours. He has to take a moment to bask in your heart, how your sweet pussy envelopes his cock in a vice grip that’s addicting and never making him want to leave.

Your legs wrap around his waist, making him go deeper inside of you, finally pulling him away from your pussy enchantment. Retracting his hips until only the tip is in you, he thrusts back inside. His movement is languid, cock digging sweetly into your walls. Your head falls back as your hips roll in a deep need for him. Your back arches off the table as your mouth falls into the shape of an ��O.’ Each thrust is a calculated one, careful as he wants you to memorize his love by the way he moves his cock. From shallow ones that have you begging for more to deep thrusts that hit that special spot inside, having you squeak out your moans. “Kento…”

He pulls you to sit up, your chest pressing against his as he hikes up one leg to the table, getting deeper and deeper within you. His forehead touches yours, nose meeting nose as your breaths dance together. His brown eyes stare into your glossy ones, a deep need for each other being shared as you hold eye contact. “Yes, my love? Am I upholding my promise to you?”

You nod, a stray tear dropping down onto the dark wood. “Y-Yes,” you cry. “You always make me feel so good. I—I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” He asks, to which you nod again. “I love you, too. So much more, in fact.”

You want to negate his statement, but he captures you for a kiss to silent you. He knows you all too well, swallowing away the thought from your mind completely as he fucks you on his cock.  Arms wrapped around him, you grind your hips down as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach. Butterflies dance around in there as you feel your cunt pulsate, squeezing Nanami’s length at your impending orgasm. You mewl against his lips, not having to say a word to signal what’s to come. He can feel himself approaching as well, your near orgasm always calling for him to join alongside you whenever he’s inside you. 

His thrusts grow rougher, bringing your hips down with force as he chases for euphoria. Your body tenses up, feeling that band snap as you cry out against his lips. Finally, Nanami pulls away as you cream around his cock. 

“Kento,” you cry, repeating his name like a mantra as you can’t find any other word besides it. 

“I got you, my love,” Nanami pants as you paint the base of his cock in a milky white as his cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed in the depths of you. The smooth rhythm becomes sloppy as he rides out his high inside of you before pulling out and having you rest on the table. When your heartbeat slows and the hearts from your eyes dissipate being brought back to reality, you feel Nanami’s head against your chest. You can feel it, his copious amount of cum dripping out of you, smearing against Nanami’s skin. You moan at the loss as your hands travel to Nanami’s blonde hair. 

From your peripheral vision, you can see your work shoved to the far corner of the table as you remember what exactly sparked this chain of events. It reminds you of how in Nanami’s misery, you might’ve had an unfair trick right up your sleeves. Reverting your eyes, your finger combs through his hair as a sigh leaves you. It sparks Nanami's concern, picking up his head to glance at you. “Something on your mind so soon, or are you just basking in the present?”

“If I’m being honest,” you gnaw on your bottom lips, eyes averting Nanami’s at your soon confession. “I did practice with the piping bag while you were at work.”

You were expecting for him to be shocked, perhaps a bit mad at your “cheating,” but if anything, Nanami wasn’t either of those. Instead, with a gentle nod, he hums. “I expected much.”

“You did?” your eyes widen. “How?”

“Babe, you couldn’t icing a cake two weeks ago,” Nanami deadpans. “You’re expecting me to believe that you mastered the talent miraculously?” 

“Hey!” you playfully slap at his chest. “I could’ve just been lucky today!”

Nanami shakes his head, silently telling you, not a chance, before looking over at your gingerbread house. It’s tumbled into pieces for sure, but some of your work doesn’t go under-appreciated by the mess. 

“Now, that I’m looking closer,” he smirks. “It doesn’t look as good as I had originally thought it did.”

“Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” You pull your arms from around him, crossing them around your chest. Nanami chuckles, nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck. 

“If I wanted to do that, I would just start fucking you again, darling.”

( 🛢 ) : @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network @satsattoru

[mushroomates]

the fellowship grocery shopping (modern au!):

frodo: has a list which he always loses halfway through shopping. tries to bring his own bags but they’re never enough, or he forgets them in the car and realizes mid checkout. does not like a lot of the name brand foods, goes for the knock offs- partly because he thinks they taste better and partly because he’s rooting for the underdog. (also they’re cheaper which means more money go towards buying treats for the neighborhood cats.) makes an exception for name brand strawberry poptarts, a pippin favorite. keeps his fridge stocked with snacks for his friends.

sam: grows a lot of his own produce and makes an effort to shop local. has his own chickens and a thriving herb garden. he often trades with neighbors-tomatoes for honey, basil for goats milk, etc. once a month he teams up with boromir and goes to costco for insane amounts of flour (he bakes his own bread) and a foot long hotdog. sam refuses to get his own membership.

merry: has a list of things to get that he has worked very hard to compile. this list stays on fridge, and whenever he runs out of something he adds it. this is always sabotaged by pippin who, in a port attempt to mimic merry’s handwriting, adds a copious amount of sweets and things only pippin likes. ends up buying them anyways only to not share with him- will gloat by snacking in front of pippin and not offering any to his cousin.

pippin: does not actually grocery shop. yes, he has food in his house but this is more because he just tags along whenever someone else is going. selectively copies whatever they get into his own basket. has eight jars of peanut butter because he loves peanut butter but does not consume it at the rate he believes he does. also for backup, incase he runs out mid sandwich and needs eight jars of the stuff. loves to ride in the shopping carts when no one’s watching. definitely scooters along isles. loves to hijack boromir’s shopping trips as boromir is the only one who will push him in the cart and give him a lil treat at the end.

gandalf: kind of just. wanders around the store. gets lost in the bakery. buys the most random things, causing the clerks to conspire about what he’s doing with two packs of rubber gloves, a rosterseie chicken, and a tub of mayonnaise. is he a murderer? a professor? a single mother? what is he doing with this stuff?

aragorn: does a lot of trading with neighbors, like sam. likes to accompany arwen on errands and do the little things. she points at an item and he puts it in the basket. he bags at checkout. drives her home. unloads the car and put it away. real quality time and acts of service. yes, arwen is capable of doing these things herself, but he likes to do it for her: hunts so be always has a surplus of jerky, does need to buy more salt then the typical person.

boromir: also hunts. has a thing about using every part of the animal, will eat bone marrow straight out of the femur with a spoon for breakfast. eats a lot of protein. is real big about no food waste and will use everything he can. has his own compost bin and a humble herb garden. likes hosting barbecues for everyone, and makes the burgers and hotdogs from scratch. every other tuesday is grocery day. he goes to costco and buys his things in bulk. he’s the only one in the fellowship with a costco card and everyone loves to take advantage of it.

legolas: mainly just happens upon farmers markets and grabs what appeals to him in the moment. does not have any seasonings or cooking oil as it’s not something that’s ever really occurred to him to buy. will forget he has food in his fridge for weeks and when he finally does it’s gone bad. this, however, does not stop him from eating it. makes a lot of smoothies.

gimli: has a lot of preserved foods and a cupboard dedicated to emergencies. owns a lot of canned beans, fruits and vegetables- anything that will keep well. has a freezer filled with food in his garage with backup stock. is a very good with coupons- pippin likes going with him just to see the total (and the clerks jaw) drop. eats a lot of trail mix and jerky. enjoys fresh fruit when he can but doesn’t like to buy it because it doesn’t last.

gollum: sneaky little man. he hides in the bottom part of the carts meant for heavy items and parties his way across the store with his hands, scooting along tile and grabbing anything with reach, tossing it back up to the cart and continuing on his journey. then he just rolls right out the door. no one can stop him.

[animeyanderelover]

Could you write “Close your eyes so it’ll hurt less. for Satoru Gojoı with non-sorcerer reader.

It can be nsfw or punishment scenario <3

thanks in advance!

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, overprotective behavior, manipulation, clinginess, isolation, abduction, paranoia, Satoru breaks s/o's wrist

Words: 3.1 k

Prompt 192

'Beauty is deceiving. It hides who the true monster is.'

You couldn't quite recall when and where you had stumbled upon this phrase, if it had been spoken by someone or if you had read it in a book. Most likely because you had never given this analysis much thought when you had received it for the first time. In hindsight, you should have probably given those two sentences much more thought. Perhaps, but only perhaps, then you wouldn't have fallen so easily prey to a man whose powers and appearance resembled old folklore of ancient and powerful gods.

Satoru indeed, as you had learned the longer you had been with him, thought of himself as someone blessed and special. If anyone else would have said those words to you, you would have thought of them as delusional. Yet when Gojo Satoru said those words, they were no mere gloating fantasies. Instead those words were reality, a reality you had been exposed to ever since you had gotten involved with him.

A reality that frightened you and one that you still couldn't comprehend. Worst of all seemed to be that Satoru refused to expose his world to you. You had only pieces of the puzzle, an unfinished picture of the whole situation that left you with a strange mixture of fear and agitation.

"Even if I were to tell you, you wouldn't be able to do anything. I would only scare you unnecessarily."

Partially he had spoken the truth and you knew that. You wouldn't be able to do anything against whatever it was that his world held in store for you. Yet Satoru was mislead in his assumption that keeping the truth from you would spare you from unnecessary stress. It only amplified it as the fear of not knowing had become a familiar chain that restricted your mind. You had started viewing your surroundings with more caution and wariness, unaware what it was you had to look out for but on edge nevertheless. A feeling of constant alert had overcome you whenever you were conscious, one that had cost you.

No longer felt you able to relax or take joy in the simple things. What you didn't know was constantly on your mind, the nagging fear a festering tumor that spread inside your mind the more time you were forced to spend with him.

His constant presence did not do anything to soothe your growing anxiousness. On the contrary, it fueled those feelings inside of your chest only more. It was unclear to you whether he was oblivious to this fact or if he chose to ignore it and if you had to be truthful, you did not know which was worse.

There was only one thing he often felt the urgent need to remind you of.

That he was the good guy.

---

Your hold on the book tightened, your heart clenching in rapidly growing frustration as you tried your best to blend Satoru's presence out of your mind and focus.

"Don't ignore me, (y/n)!" He whined and his voice, one you used to perceive as a pleasant and delightful sound, made you cringe the same way the sound of nails against a chalkboard would have done. It was borderline agonising and you just wanted it to stop. Your jaw clenched, your head pounding as the anger piled on yet you tried to push everything down as you didn't want to lose your composure and, accompanying your composure, the grasp of control over your own emotions.

When you felt soft lips traveling down from your temple to your neck, you shut the book loudly before you stood abruptly up. Your fists were balled to fists as the pounding in your head seemed to intensify. You felt the urge to scream, to cry or to let your feelings vent out in any other way but you knew that you couldn't do that in front of him. Your feet stomped away from the scene in an attempt to get away from him. When you noticed that he stood up and followed you, you had to bite your tongue in your best attempt to not yell at him.

"Am I not even allowed to go to the bathroom alone?" You growled at him before locking the door to the only room where you could have at least a few minutes for yourself. You scowled at the hurt pout he gave you before his face disappeared from your sight. In the very same moment you locked the door, separating you from Satoru, it felt like someone had unlocked your ability to breathe properly again. The air tasted fresher and your chest felt lighter now that you were away from his smothering presence.

You drew water from the tap and splashed the cold liquid against your face in an attempt to soothe the burning pounding that had tormented you for the entire day already. You took those moments to let the silence and appreciated loneliness sink in, your face still buried in your head as you made no attempt to remove it from them.

As much as you would have wanted to stay like this for a while longer, you knew that you only had so much time before Satoru would grow impatient. You'd rather destroy this moment of peace due to your own will rather than to be thrown out of this tranquility by his own actions.

You turned the tap off and dried your face with the towel before you unlocked the door and turned the knob, expecting to hear his voice immediately calling for you or to even see him standing there.

Instead you heard his hushed voice from the living room and although you couldn't clearly hear all of his words, it sounded like he was talking to someone. For a split second you debated whether or not to use this chance to return to the bathroom or go somewhere else. On the other hand you knew too well that he would demand for you as soon as he was finished with this conversation so instead you opted to just head back to the living room as well.

When you peaked inside through the opened door, you could see that he was having a phone call with someone. Brilliant blue eyes darted up as soon as they saw you and a smile graced his lips for a few moments. You could clearly hear how his voice turned to a mere murmur as he suddenly turned his back on you and you knew instantly that the call must have been related to his job which is why he didn't want you to hear what he was hearing. You felt your curiosity urging you to step closer, so close that you would understand everything no matter how silent he might try to talk.

From previous experiences you knew that if you were to try that though, he would end the call instantly and merely tell the other person on the line to text him all the information before hanging up. So you just stood there and waited, feeling the frustration bubble up inside of you again.

As soon as he had ended the call, he turned around to you. A silly pout was on his face as he walked over to you before a dramatic sigh escaped him.

"Seems like I have to head out for a while. Something just came up."

Obviously he was clearly unhappy, you on the other mind felt like your soul was rejuvenating with the mere thought of having a few hours to yourself. Like everything else though, you also were smart enough to not gloat about those news so you gave him a curtly nod as your only response.

Large hands cradled your face as blue eyes looked at you.

"I'll be back as soon as possible. Just wait for me in the meantime, 'kay?"

You didn't return the kiss when you felt warm lips meeting your own but you also knew that with his grip on your face, you couldn't pull away so you just endured the feeling as your body visibly tensed up. Only when you pulled away did you dare to unclench your jaw again, your lips slightly parted as you looked into those otherwordly eyes.

"Maybe I'll buy you something nice if I find something." He continued to speak as he pressed quick kisses against your face as if quickly tanking some affection before he had to leave.

"Would you like something specific."

You merely shook your head.

"Just surprise me."

Really, you couldn't have cared less.

---

Satoru had returned far too quickly for your own taste. On the other hand he might as well have been gone for weeks and you would still bemourn his absence as too short.

With him he had brought bags full with clothes he had bought for you, in high moods as he had asked you to wear some of them so he could see if they would look as good on you as he had hoped them to be when he had wasted his money on them.

In an attempt to delay this event and prevent him from getting handsy, you had insisted on cutting off all the price tags first as you had assured him that you would like to keep everything that he had brought.

So now here you were, searching for the price tags on every piece of clothing before cutting it off with scissors. It was a lot of work but less because it took much physical exertion and more because of the sheer amount the white-haired man had bought.

Really, you could have enjoyed this task though as it was rather nice to do something.

So why couldn't he have just sat back and remained silent instead of touching you and talking to you? You just wanted some time for yourself.

You knew that he was trying to get you to talk to him by annoying you with questions and touches as he simply longed to hear your voice and to force you to interact with him. This was precisely what you didn't want and so you had to silently chant a mandra to calm your nerves as you hung up all the clothes in the wardrobe. You were surprised that you even had any space left considering that you had so many clothes already.

It was tedious to ignore him but you were normally somehow able to pull through with it. However, on this evening Satoru seemed to have finally enough of your dismissive attitude which was why he exactly spoke something that he knew would get your attention.

"I met your friends whilst I was shopping."

You froze, unable to control your reaction as you heard his words. A strange flood of emotions came over you and you caught yourself swallowing audibly as you tried to maintain some sort of control. You had already failed though and you knew that Satoru would try to use it to his advantage.

You wanted to ask him more but you knew that you couldn't as it was exactly what he wanted you to do so with slightly shaky hands you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Obviously he wouldn't drop the subject that easily though.

You felt his warm breath fawning the side of your face as he leaned closer to you, his eyes taking in the way you had pursed your lips and how you had furrowed your eyebrows as you weren't able to hide your feelings. You were missing your friends and family after all and the bastard knew it.

His own feelings rose up as he saw your face but not because he felt pity for you. Instead he felt his jealousy stirring slowly awake as he saw how affected you appeared by merely hearing him mentioning one of your friends. He envied the feelings you reserved only for them without giving him anything at all.

Why was that?

"Satoru..."

Your voice resembled more of a guttural growl when one of his hands grabbed your shoulders, clearly feeling how tensed your muscles were as you slowly cut off more price tags from pieces of clothing, your mind barely held together as you were trying in a last effort to hold back.

His name was spoken as a warning from your side as he knew that you were at your limit and that only from hearing from him about one of your friends. If he would have been a better man, he would have acknowledged how petty and low he was acting right now. However, Gojo Satoru wasn't a good man as jealousy started getting a hold of him.

"They all seemed to have quite a good time without you. It didn't really look like they were bemourning your disappearance. Perhaps you are the only one in the belief that they are missing you as much as you miss them."

You paused for seconds that seemed to stretch more than they should have before you put the shirt you had held in your hand down. Your head turned around as your own eyes met his blue ones. You didn't say anything at first, there wasn't even a trace of anger on your face as if you couldn't believe his words.

Then your pupils started quivering though and he saw how your gaze suddenly got poisoned with anger you had kept buried deep inside of you for the last few weeks.

You acted before you could even think as the one hand that had previously held the scissors suddenly flew towards him, fully committed to stab at least one of those cured blue eyes so that his gaze could never torment you again.

Only that the scissor never reached his eye. No matter what you tried, you couldn't move your hand any further, the sharp edge of the scissor only lingering close to his blue orbs.

It was that inability that caused you to snap out of your spiraling anger as you realised what you had just tried to do. You instantly withdrew your hand, visible shock on your face from your unexpected outburst. You felt your blood pumping through your veins and felt shame and frustration heating up your entire face as you had just lost your temper completely.

You ran your other hand through your hair as you took some shaky breaths to regain your control. When you finally managed to look up again, an apology lingering on your tongue for your reckless action that could have seriously wounded him, you found the words quickly dying down before they could even leave your mouth.

Normally already quite intense blue eyes were staring through you and your soul with a new weight to them that had you breaking out in cold sweat as you felt a cold sensation going down your spine.

You felt no relief when briefly his eyes darted down to look at your other hand which was still clutching the scissors on your palm, although you quickly dropped the object when you noticed his stare.

You flinched when one of his palms wrapped around your wrist and lifted your hand up. At first his touch was soft but within only a few seconds he tightened his hold until it felt like he was squeezing your bones.

You let out a short hiss when you felt the pain as you started squirming uncomfortably, trying to get him to let go of your wrist.

"You were about to stab me."

You shuddered when you heard the icy tone that seemingly matched his hardened and cold stare that he gave you right now, vastly different from what you were used.

You wanted to defend yourself. He had taunted you first and he had been the one who had brought you into such a situation were you would lose your self-control in the first place as you hadn't consciously intended to potentially hurt him seriously.

Yet he didn't let you utter even a single word as he pulled you closer to his body, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look right into those glowing eyes.

"You wouldn't hurt me, right? You care about me after all, even if you don't want to show it."

There was something in his tone that gave you the chills. It wasn't anger or anything similar to that emotion though. It was a tremble, a barely audible tremble of an emotion akin to denial that made him look dangerously much like he was about to break down in front of you. Whatever you had just done, it seemed to have triggered something dangerous inside of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I just lost control of myself for a moment."

You swallowed as you uttered those words quickly, your honest tone only slightly tarnished by the pain you felt as he was still squeezing your wrist. You found your own breath stopping as you looked at his face, praying for whatever had possessed him to stop.

"I knew. You wouldn't want to harm me. It's alright, darling. I forgive you."

You felt no relief when he cooed those words at you as he pulled you closer, giving you a kiss on your forehead. Instead you foud your stomach churning as you felt the stress rising inside of you, warning you that something was about to happen.

"Close your eyes so it'll hurt less."

You knew what he had done when you heard the sound yet you didn't instantly feel the pain. Instead your widened eyes stared into his own blue ones with a mixture of shock and betrayal.

You stumbled back in shock, cradling your broken wrist against your chest as the pulsing and cutting pain finally began to settle in. Tears instantly started to gather in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks and choked sobs started leaving your lips as you slid down to the ground.

"I know. I know. It must hurt quite a bit."

His voice was sweet and soothing as his arms embraced you, one of his hands wiping away your tears as you continued staring at him with unbridled shock and terror as you felt soft touches on your face from the same hand that had just moments ago broken your wrist as if it was a mere twig.

The fear grew and grew until you felt unable to look into his eyes again, turning your eyes elsewhere as your lips started to wobble.

He had never hurt you before. Perhaps that's why you had felt so entitled to ignore him as he had been only ever acted like a clingy and whiny man around you.

Clearly you had been wrong though.

[barblaz-arts]

First things first, I love your art!!

I was wandering through tumblr to see if there's any great chaggie fanart, but here it is! ❤️

I really love how healthy and supportive their relationship is, and I hope we get to have more chaggie screen time in Season 2(waiting for the "get it" moment lol)

What kind of Chaggie moment do you hope yo see in season 2??

I hope you'll get to post more chaggie art in future! Love your art, keep up the great work!! ✨️

Also, love from Korea~

Thanks!

Oh man, there's a lot I wanna see

- a chaggie duet that isn't a reprise. More than Anything was a good place to start, but it was wayyy too short. One of the things I love about Hazbin is that we get to have canon gay duets sung by talented broadway stars. The only musical wlw duet I know of is "Take or Leave Me" which is so so good, but it's a break up song. Steven Universe only has the one song with Rupphire, but Im not a big big fan of it, especially since Ruby's VA isnt really a singer(which is fine!). I want more gay duets that are declarations/affirmations of love and I'm sure chaggie will deliver.

-I also want Charlie to get to have a turn at singing about Vaggie like Vaggie did. I mean, we're for sure getting that bcuz of the "sexy pop song" but I also want Charlie to sing a ballad about Vaggie. If the teaser that we saw where the voice actors for Charlie and Baxter(?) sing some modified lyrics of Carnilla and Vaggie's "Whatever It Takes" means they're going to reprise it, then I really really hope that's the case. If this is just them having fun, im gonna be so disappointed lmao

While I still stand by my many previous statements that claims of Charlie and Vaggie lacking the display necessary to be considered a couple is ridiculous, a flaw I did notice is the fact that we dont get to see Charlie show how much she loves Vaggie all that much, which I think isn't the writers' oversight and more of a deliberate obstacle that they'd be facing in the upcoming seasons. I get it! Charlie's got a lot of shit going on, but she needs to be able to balance her work and relationships if she doesn't want to lose either her dream or her girl or both! Like, you know that trope where the workaholic gets so absorbed in their work that they end up unintentionally neglecting their lover, and when they do realize that they've fucked up, they do their best to make up for it in any way they can? I want that. I want Charlie's turn to apologize to Vaggie for fucking something up.

And idk how likely this is, but I think a really good opportunity to do that is to have Velvette come in and make Charlie jealous. If you didn't see my previous posts about it, I just noticed that the Vees all have these twisted love for a Hazbin close to Charlie that they also sorta parallel. Vox has an obsessive hate boner for Alastor, and they're both demons related to entertainment media. Valentino is Angel's abusive situationship, and they're both big names in the porn industry. All we have left is Velvette, who is the "backbone" of the Vees and seems to be the brains of the team, and the closest equivalent to that is Vaggie who is the manager of the Hotel and Keeper of their Braincell. Plus if Vaggie having died in the 2010s and Charlie being 200+ yrs old is still canon, Velvette can gloat about the fact that she's around Vaggie's age and is younger and fresher than granny Morningstar. You cant tell me that isn't something she'd do, since that was like the thing she kept throwing in the other Overlords' faces.

- Charlie hasnt turned demon mode for Vaggie yet, and I really want that. I dont just want what we got in the final episode where Charlie's glaring at Lute while she's holding Vaggie. Yeah ok that was pretty great but I want more! I want hellfire! I want claws! I want the feral, scrappy Charlie from the pilot pretty please!

- I want Vaggie and Lucifer bonding over Charlie. I dont think Lucifer and Charlie's relationship is completely "fixed" after the one duet they had, and I'm really hoping Vaggie gets to have a part in mending their relationship by having her interact with Lucifer. I also really want the narrative to explicitly acknowledge all the parallels Lucilith have with Chaggie

- I promise this isn't just the horny speaking, but I really hope Erika saying that "Charlie and Vaggie can get it, and we might see them do so" really means we're getting an explicit Chaggie sex scene. Hear me out! So far in season 1, the only explicitly r-rated scene we have is the fucked up one with Valentino and Angel. It would be really great if the next r-rated scene is one that is done out of love, and what better way to do it than with the protags in a canon relationship? It would show that sex isn't inherently a bad thing, and that Charlie clearly doesnt believe that either

- i really want more flashbacks about Charlie and Vaggie before they got together. I wanna see Charlie when she still hopelessly crushed on the stranger she saved in the streets. I wanna see how Vaggie reacted to the fact that she's an angel falling in love with Hell's princess. At the very least, they really should consider publishing comics that could add to the lore that the budgeted run time cant cover.

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch 11

Summary: You just want to sleep, but Price needs you to calm down first.

Words: 2.8k

CW: Kidnapping, light bdsm

When Johnny tried to touch you, you only buried yourself into Simon and glowered at him. He looked wounded, pulling his hand back from where it had been poised to stroke your hair. None of them understood why you were reacting like that. You seemed back to yourself, but then it would stand to reason that you would be most scared of Simon. And yet now you were only too happy to be held by him. Only him.

As far as you were concerned it was a survival tactic. If you were always by Simon, none of them could kill you without going through him. And you weren’t really sure anyone could go through him. He seemed happy enough to play protector, thumb rubbing firm circles into your waist and teeth nibbling at the tip of your ear every so often. You suspected he was probably looking at the others when he did it, gloating. Good. 

“You need to eat sweetheart” he purred into your ear.

“Mm, don’t tell me what to do Simon.”

“Bratty even when you’re half dead.”

“Bossy even when I’m being nice.”

He chuckled at that. If he were a better man perhaps he would feel bad that Price, Johnny and Gaz were at the kitchen island looking like grumpy little puppies. As he was not a better man he only shot them a lopsided grin. Why shouldn’t he be happy? You were safe, your temperature was back to normal, you were in his arms and letting his fingers sink into the fat of your waist, letting his teeth lazily graze the skin of your ear. The fear of losing you gave way to how you fit so fucking perfectly against him. He couldn’t help but imagine how else you might fit together, how perfectly warm and wet and tight you’d be around him. Fuck would you let him take you to his bed? He didn't even need to make love to you just yet if you were still stubborn about everything, just hold you, feel your heartbeat and the warmth of your skin proving you were alive. 

“Like you nice, should give it to me more often” he said with his hand testing the waters, squeezing the meat of your thigh dangerously close to your ass. 

“Don't get used to it, can't imagine it'll be a frequent occurrence.”

You felt the squeeze and your body gave a valiant attempt at arousal, but it was like molasses, sticky and slow moving in your exhaustion. You didn't mind it, if anything it was sort of nice. His chuckle betrayed his own exhaustion a little, the raspiness of it pointing to him having had a very stressful day. 

“Then let me enjoy it while it lasts hm? Eat something for me sweetheart.”

Stupid man being stupidly charming. You didn't really feel like eating, you had went past hungry at some point in the cold and now you just wanted to stay cuddled up to someone you were steadfastly believing was safe and go to sleep. He kept jostling you though, a nip to your ear, a squeeze of your thigh or a finger tracing your spine keeping you awake from how it caused little thrills through you. 

“You make it.”

“Hm?”

“I'm not eating whatever they made. You make it. Or give me something that's sealed.”

Well that was an alarming thing to hear you mumble softly against him. The smug happiness of having you favour him was rapidly turning into concern. What exactly did you think they were going to do to you? Did you think they would poison you or were you just refusing to eat anything from them out of pettiness?

“Why?”

“I'll make it myself then” you grumbled, pushing away from him even though every fibre of you hated it.

Oh he did not like that if the growl was anything to go by. Simon stood with little warning, an arm banding under your ass to keep you wrapped around him. You tensed, knowing he was going over to the others and not being sure you really wanted to be near them. Price maybe, he had been kind, he was asleep when Johnny and Kyle had been discussing your murder. Second murder you supposed. But you couldn't really be sure he wasn't in on it. Then again you couldn't be sure Simon wasn't, but you didn't have much choice but to believe him. 

You were placed lightly on the kitchen island and he took a small step back, forcing you out into the open. You had felt a lot less vulnerable wrapped up in him, face buried in his shoulder. Your skin prickled with the gazes you felt on you. 

“I was only gone a few days, what exactly happened in that time that's got you not willing to eat anything they've made?”

“What? That true little bird? You are not starving yourself, you're already in enough trouble for running off like that” Price said, trying to temper himself.

He was off balance with this whole situation. You had seemed on the edge of giving in before he went to sleep (which he now felt incredibly guilty about) and then he wakes up to you gone? And now after letting them rescue you, Simon shows up and you are suddenly only willing to speak to him. You hadn't been refusing to eat before. You had been a brat about it sure, but you hadn't refused. 

You looked at Price, not sure how to untangle your feelings towards him. He could not be in on it, surely not. If he had wanted to kill you he could have smothered you while you were in his bed. Johnny spoke and while you didn't mean to, you flinched. Everybody certainly noticed.

“We dinnae ken what's happening in that bonnie– I… baby what's wrong?”

“Back off Johnny.”

“I didnae dae anything!”

While you were glad Simon was telling him off you wished he'd just let you cling to him again. This wasn't a conversation you wanted to have right now, you just wanted to sleep for 16 hours in a warm bed. You'd probably take a warm body in it if it wasn't someone who had openly spoken about killing you. 

“Everything seemed fine the other night luv, you were getting along.”

You did glance at Kyle, seeing him look alarmed at how you froze up when he spoke the same way you had for Johnny. He was right, you were getting along. It had been almost peaceful, you had been almost calm. Maybe that had been what they had been waiting for. 

“Simon.”

You said his name as a soft plead, hoping you could get out of this conversation. You didn't want to say it out loud. You didn't want to make it real. Because goddamnit you kind of liked them. You liked teasing Johnny when Dosia was horrible to him, you liked watching Kyle cook. It was so stupid of you to fall for it, to find yourself liking them. Please let Price be outside of it, please let him want you alive. Heartbreak twice over was already enough. 

There was a stunned sort of silence at your little plea. It wasn't really like you at all, not the you they had been getting to know. These men knew one another well enough that they could each tell that nobody knew what was going on here. This wasn’t you being angry or scared that they were keeping you here. This was something else, and none of them knew why. Price moved into your eye line and you lowered your gaze stubbornly to the ground, but you didn’t seem the same level of upset as you were with Soap or Gaz. 

His brow furrowed and he crooked a finger under your chin, making you tilt your head up and look at him. He could feel how agitated Simon had gotten at you saying his name like that, but he also knew that he trusted him with you. He trusted he would make this right. So he stayed where he was, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms to ensure he wouldn’t reach out while Price tried to fix whatever had went so horribly wrong.

“What’s going on?”

“Failed escape attempt, obviously.”

“Try again little bird.”

Oh, he was using that voice again. That one that oozed authority and made you want to push and push and push until he snapped. Only now you didn’t know what that meant. Part of you hoped he would just backhand you, show you his true colours so you could get over whatever this ridiculous feeling was. Another part badly wanted him to take some sort of control, force your racing thoughts to calm. Fuck you were demented.

“You wanted me to stay put, you should have clipped my wings.”

“That what you want?”

Maybe. Maybe you just wanted them to stop fucking toying with you. You were exhausted, fear and misery had drained you and you just wanted to give in, but your already incredibly wounded pride would really rather he made you give in so you could pretend you had fought it.

“Does it matter what I want John?”

He considered you for a while, the world holding its breath in anticipation. You didn’t realise how tense you really were until he moved his hand to the nape of your neck, tugging you off of the counter, fingers and thumb gripping with enough pressure that it loosened you all at once. The others didn’t intervene as he marched you out of the kitchen and into his office, the click of the lock causing a full body shiver. He was behind you and you just let your eyes softly unfocus on the wall as he bent slightly to speak right into your ear.

“I didn’t want to do this right now. You need rest. But you’re too wound up for that aren’t you little bird? Won’t even eat if we can’t get you calmed down.”

His foot slid between yours, pushing gently to get your legs to widen as he pressed on your neck, bending you over the desk. You didn’t have resistance left to give as you settled on your elbows. His hand running down your spine made you sigh. 

“This… it doesn’t change anything” you said softly as tugged on your sweatpants, getting access to the bare swell of your ass.

“Course not. Bet’s still on, and I still intend to win.”

–

Gaz couldn’t sleep. He was half tempted to do what Soap had done and sneak into Ghost’s bed for some form of bloody comfort. He hadn’t seen you since Price had taken you into that office, although they all knew exactly what would have happened in there. He knew you were due punishment for running away like that, but it unsettled him that it had happened so soon. You weren’t right yet, you were still… well he didn’t know. That was the problem. Shock he could understand, but he thought they had warmed you up and got you lucid again. And then you had looked at him like you were scared of him. You had never looked at him like that before, not even when you had been spitting mad and screaming at Soap. 

He trusted Price, he knew that he’d figure out what was wrong, knew that he’d take care of you in whatever way you needed it. But it didn’t help him sleep. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted you to cosy into him like you had done with Ghost. It drove him wild watching how his fingers had sunk into you, how you had let them. Fuck it was so stupid, Kyle’s fingers had been inside you but he was getting jealous of the intimacy of another mans fingers even touching you.

He was driving himself a little crazy going over your last interaction with him, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. You had been fine, you had even laughed when he had made a cutesy little smiley face on your omelette with ketchup. He wasn’t about to pretend that you were happy being kept by them like this, but he was so sure you had been beginning to settle. Him and Soap were going to wait until Simon was back and then make their case to him and Price that they should talk to you about giving you some freedom. They couldn’t let you just run to the police, but what if they built you your own place? Just like your little cottage. They thought they could make you happy with that for the time being, work on it until maybe you’d like to move somewhere far away with them. Then they could take you out on dates without incriminating themselves. They just needed to convince you that you wanted to go on them. And somehow he had fucked it all up. 

The light knock on his door had him out of the bed in record time to answer. He knew how a knock sounded for people, and that was too light to be Ghost or Price (Soap never knocked, fucking git that he was). He should have tried to be more cool and collected but he wrenched open the door and just flustered for a moment at you standing there in pjs. Fuck you were pretty. You looked tired still, but calm, he suspected Price had probably given you what you needed. 

“I… um. Can I come in?”

He nodded rapidly and stood aside to let you wander into his room. You seemed maybe a little nervous, but at least not scared of him. He hated that you had been scared of him. He hated not being able to figure out why.

“Are you-”

“I wanted-”

You both paused and there was a moment of each of you trying to get the other to go first until Kyle sighed and very gently moved you to sit on his bed so he could crouch in front of you, taking both your hands in his.

“Are you ok luv?”

“Tired. John gave me the soup you made, it was nice.”

He had fed you after he had rewired your brain with the absolute leathering he had given your ass. You were pretty sure you had cried during, but it was all a little hazy. It was a stupid thing to do, but you found you trusted him. Hard not to when he had climbed into the bath with you, washed your hair and gently dried and moisturised you after without once trying to take advantage.

You had nearly choked spying on him when you were supposed to be undressing for the bath, watching through the crack in the bathroom door to his room as he leaned his forearm heavily against the wall and quickly jacked himself off. Fuck, you knew he had done it because he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be getting hard with you naked in his arms and you had to throw cold water on your face to try and pretend you weren’t flushed with the thought that he wanted you that badly but wouldn’t do anything to you even in your vulnerable state. Made it hard not to trust him really. You had been suddenly glad for how utterly exhausted you were because while your body had made an attempt at getting you aroused it had been overpowered by bone tiredness.

Instead you had let him take care of you and pull you into his arms in bed. And you had finally talked. You told him what you had overheard and he told you that without a shadow of a doubt you had misunderstood. He’d even offered to knock their heads together for even accidentally frightening you like that. And you were so thoroughly out of emotions, so run through with the events of the day, that you couldn’t find it in you to not just believe him. He hadn't stopped you when you had mumbled that you wanted to see Kyle, he had just pressed his lips to your hair and let you go. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I thought you and Johnny were going to kill me. I overheard you in the kitchen,” you answered, no energy for anything but blunt honesty.

Kyle took a moment to figure out what the fuck you were talking about and then groaned and hid his head in your joined hands. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck. I should have thought about how that would sound with you right in the next room, I’m sorry, it wasn’t anything like what you’re thinking, it- well we-”

You squeezed his hands to get him to look at you again.

“S’ok. I’d just like to sleep if that’s ok.”

He wasn’t going to argue with you when you were sat in his bed, when you wanted to share it. So he just smiled and let you crawl under the covers so he could slot in right behind you. 

He fit there. 

[r4fe-cam3ron]

CHRISTMAS STORY TWO | STARDUST — r. cameron x reader

warnings; ooc rafe (definitely 🥲) , does not follow outer banks, fluffy, just cuteness all around (hopefully)

an; sorry for repeating myself again — but i’m only on season two of OBX so this is completely an ooc rafe with a tad bit of issues as well 😔 i’m hoping soon i’ll finish i’m just awful at finishing shows. ANYWAY, i still hope you all enjoy this rafe story :p

There’s a soft breeze that causes everyone to slightly shiver, smiling at the feeling over their skins. It’s different than the scorching, hot days — more welcomed. 

The Cameron’s hosted a ‘Christmas Eve eve’ party. It was silly, but also a way for Ward to invite people to his home so he could gloat about anything new he’s bought even though he does that yearly. 

Sarah had told him the only way she’d really come out of her room long enough is if she could invite her friends. Which leads Rafe to do the same. Ward reluctantly agrees — he’s hoping that there would be no fights against anyone. That would look bad on him. 

It’s bad enough Sarah had invited people from the cut to the party. JJ grins when he grabs a champagne flute, taking a sip but his face immediately screws from the taste. He spits it back into his cup, earning a few looks his way. “God, that is awful.” 

You watch with a lifted brow as his blue eyes search around, a small and quiet ‘ah’ leaving his mouth as he discreetly switches out his glass with some older man’s scotch, taking a sip. “Better.” 

“I cannot believe you—” Your eyes widen when you watch the man take a sip of the spit champagne, a look of confusion on his face. 

“Look away.” JJ whispers. You both quickly turn. He stuffs his hand into his pocket as he whistles to the Christmas tunes over the speaker playing in the corner. 

You roll your eyes, but smile and shake your head as you look away, eyes traveling over the sea of guests before landing on one individual host. Shifting on your feet slightly, you stare at him quietly with parted lips. 

He was in a black suit, a black button up underneath. You watch as he brings his cup to his mouth, sipping whatever drink he had chosen from the bar. 

Your hand smooths down your dress as you glance away before quickly looking back over, afraid you might lose sight of the eldest Cameron. 

His blue eyes find yours and you're quickly turning away from him, eyes landing on JJ’s smug face. “I see you making googly eyes at Cameron,” He takes a sip of his stolen drink. “I wouldn’t recommend.” 

You roll your eyes for the umpteeth time, shaking your head. “Of course you wouldn’t recommend it, JJ. Besides, I wouldn’t. It’s not like he’s interested in me.” You wave your hand around dismissively. 

“Well then,” His voice turns into a southern drawl that has you trying to hold back a laugh. He drapes a heavy arm across your shoulder as he leans close. “That’s his fault, the prettiest one here!”

“Mhm,” You glance at him, nudging your head against his. “Go find Kie. You haven’t seen her yet, then.” 

He thinks a moment and blinks. “You know what, you’re right,”

He places the cup down next to the man. He seems confused again, staring between the new glass he ordered and the one that had been stolen right under his nose. 

“I shall go find my…soon-to-be-woman,” He bows playfully. “You’re still one of the prettiest here.” He playfully knocks his knuckles against your chin when he lifts, giving you a quick wink. You smile and watch as he walks around to look for Kiara. 

Letting out a small quiet sigh, you glance over at John B and Sarah, a small smile pulling at your lips once again as you watch her giggle at something he had said. A soft touch from his fingers against her cheek when he pushes a strand of hair behind her ear before it drops to his side, their fingers casually brushing against one another’s. 

“Sickening, right?” You flinch and glance over at the tall figure before quickly looking away to the couple once again, blinking. 

“I-I don’t know,” You shrug. “I think it’s cute.” You nod, clearing your throat a bit. 

He glances at you quietly before looking away. Rafe and you have spoken more than once, and yet, you’re still nervous to even be around him. 

He has that sort of effect. To make you feel dizzy. 

His finger taps on the glass, taking another sip, downing the rest of his drink before placing the empty cup on the table. He wipes away the remnants above his lip. “Come with me.” 

You turn your head and look at him, lifting a brow. “What?” 

He reaches down and grabs your hand, pulling you along without repeating himself. You stumble over your words, yet nothing coherent comes from it, your eyes staring at the back of his head before looking over your shoulder. He leads you inside and up the steps. 

There’s an extra set that has the both of you dunking so your heads wouldn’t knock on wood. He pushes something open, his grip leaving your hand and you frowning. You watch as he steps through something before stretching his hand back inside towards you. 

You stare at his hand before peeking back up at him. “You trust me?” 

You lift your brows and tilt your head. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?” 

He debates and shakes his head. “No. Not really,” He wiggles his fingers slightly. “Trust me this once, at least.” 

You couldn’t really say no to that. Or to Rafe in general. Slipping your hand through his, he grips softly and pulls you through the small window, quickly catching your waist with his other hand. 

You're quick to grip his shoulders, looking over your shoulder as your eyes widen slightly as your breath begins to quicken and legs start to shake. 

“Why did you…” You trail off, fingers digging into his shoulders now. 

“Hey, you’re okay.” He reassures you, gripping your waist. It didn’t feel like you were. You felt like you were about to slip and fall. 

“Open those eyes,” He whispers. You didn’t even realize you had them squeezed shut. You shake your head regardless. He chuckles softly. “I won’t let you fall.” 

Slowly opening your eyes, you look up at him. “Do you promise?” 

“I swear.” 

You stare at him a moment longer before hesitantly looking over. His hand quickly pulls your head back towards him, shaking his head. “Looking down will only make it worse,” He says. “Look up.” 

Blinking once, you tilt your head back, feeling his hand drop from your chin and towards your neck, fingers gripping softly. There were more stars out than you had realized. 

You smile a bit, though you’re still holding onto Rafe’s shoulders for life, the beating of your heart starting to slowly return to normal and not as if it’s about to pop out of your chest. You let your hands fall to his forearms now. 

“Oh,” You breathe softly. “It’s so pretty out here. Or up here.” 

Rafe smiles and glances towards the sky before looking back at you. There’s a piece of hair that bothers him, obscuring the view of your pretty face. Reaching out, the tip of his finger drags against your cheek softly, before tucking it behind your ear. 

You flush, but remain looking up at the sky so you don't have to look at the pretty boy in front of you. 

“Do you come up here often?” 

“Sometimes,” He shrugs. He still allows you to hold onto him for support, which is strange because he wouldn’t let anyone else do that. “Not all the time. But when I do it’s to think.” He taps your forehead softly. 

You laugh softly and finally look at him. “You? Think? That’s not a combination.” You shake your head. 

“Oooh, really?” His brows lift, stepping a tad closer. Your laugh slowly fades when you notice, gulping slightly. 

“I-I mean—”

“I’m joking,” He chuckles, shaking his head. His fingers pinch at your sides softly causing your back to straighten slightly and a small laugh to leave your lips. “It’s usually not a good combination. I try not to think and just keep everything silent. Sometimes it becomes too loud.” 

You frown and watch as his eyes dart away from you as he stares up at the sky once again. He’s not used to being vulnerable in front of anyone. He’s tried once with Ward and that was quickly dismissed. 

He thinks the only other time he was able to be vulnerable around anyone was his mom — she made him feel safe. Loved. She made him feel like his feelings and thoughts actually mattered. 

You make him feel safe. 

“That’s why you can’t hold it in, Rafe. It’s not healthy for you,” You shake your head. “You need to talk to someone.” 

He scoffs. “Yeah, right. If dad found out that I even thought about going to therapy, he’d la—”

“You don’t have to go to therapy if you don’t want to,” You quickly cut him off. “Sometimes they don’t give you good advice, even if they’re ‘licensed’ - few rarely even care about patients and it’s only about money. I’m talking about friends. Family.” 

“What friends and family do you see down there that would be easy to talk to and looks like they’ll talk me down from doing something that isn’t exactly…” He trails off but you get what he’s insinuating too. 

“You can talk to me.” 

He looks at you and you stare back at him. With a small nod, you repeat yourself. “You can talk to me,” You say softly. “I’ll always listen. I might not know what to always say, but you deserve to have someone who—”

Your words are cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your eyes widen momentarily — you’re kissing Rafe Cameron. 

They slowly close then, hand slowly lifting to cradle his jaw in your palm when it actually sinks in — you’re kissing Rafe Cameron. 

He pulls you closer by your waist, his right hand sliding up and resting on the side of your neck, his thumb pressing softly into the corner of your jaw. 

He pulls away slowly, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “Sorry,” He whispers. It shocks you to hear him even apologize. “I didn’t…uh, you might not even be on the same page as I am.” 

Your brows furrow together and you press your forehead against his. “Same page as you? What do you mean?” You play with a button on his shirt. 

“As in…you might not see me in the way I see you.” 

You hum softly, letting him sweat at the thought of him jumping at something he shouldn’t have. Then you have mercy on him, pulling his head a bit closer before meeting halfway, pressing your lips to his again. 

He lets out a small sound, fingers gripping at the back of your neck. The hand on your side slides to the middle of your back. Both of your hands now cradle his face. 

You're the one to break away this time, smiling when he chases after your lips. You peck his lips softly. “I thought you realized I was on the same page as you. I was always too nervous to talk to you — even looking at you.”

He shrugs a bit. “I just thought you didn’t like me. As a person.” 

You shake your head, brushing your thumbs softly over his cheeks. “Couldn’t be further from the truth,” You brush your nose against his softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “You’re not perfect — but that doesn’t make me like you any less. You can work on those things.” 

“What about JJ?” 

You hum softly, pressing another kiss to the other side of his mouth - you’re addicted now. “What about JJ?” 

“Well, you two just seem so close and he said—”

You pull your head back slightly and look at him. “You heard what he said?” He winces slightly at the question but nods. You shake your head with a small laugh. “It shouldn’t bother you - you both hate one another.” 

“It does bother me,” He shrugs a bit. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t. I’m being…weird about it. Why should I care what he thinks?” 

“Because somewhere deep inside, it does bother you what others think about you,” You nod. “No matter what type of front you put on. I can see right through you, Rafe Cameron.” 

He smiles a bit, pulling you closer as if there was any space left. His hand leaves your back and cups your cheek while the other remains on the side of your neck, the pad of his thumb dragging along the underside of your jaw. 

“Maybe that’s why I immediately was fond of you, rather than any of the others.” 

You smile softly and lean in slowly, nodding. “Yeah…Maybe.” 

He grins and meets you halfway, pressing his lips onto yours once again. 

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to him.

| tags — @oceanblvd111 ; @starkeyvhs

| please do not copy my work! comments, feedbacks, reblogs, & requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated! ❅

| border — @/silkholland

[sunny-mercya]

Hogging Attention

Trafalgar Law x Male Reader

Fandom -> One Piece

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

It's funny, muses Nami to herself—sipping her Tea next to Robin, ready to discuss with her about the current gossip—and watching from afar with amused curiosity, how three fearsome—publicly well known, wanted and from the 11 Supernovas none less—Pirate Captains were trying their utmost best to gain your attention.

Nami had bet to Robin, that it would be Luffy who you would devote all of your attention and last remaining energy—Robin disagreed and vote that it would be Law and Zoro, who had passed by, said it would be both; Luffy and Law.

Killer thought, how cruel they were—not rooting for his Captain—but then again, you and Kid wouldn't be such a good match in the first place.

Law hated it. He already had to share you with Luffy—who is your captain and liked to cling around you almost 24/7 throughout the year—and your crew—that's one tiring thing to manage.

Though now, in the aftermath of the grand fight—which they had won, of course—where everyone, especially you, was simply utterly exhausted, there comes Eustass (Useless) Captain Kid—who targets you in his scheming jabs against Law and hogs, besides Luffy, all your attention just to bait Law into a fit of jealousy.

Kid, unbothered by Law's scowling glare at him, demands you're the only one who should patch him up and treat his injuries—giving you more than just one snide comment and staring just a bit too long at your revealing outfit of exposed chest and legs.

Law in this moment would rather scoop you up and take you away to somewhere private—wanting to change you personally out of your current clothes, which you couldn't changed out—like they all had the chance to before—and reeked of old dried blood—a smell he couldn't stand at the moment—but he had to wait, patiently for his turn.

Although besides that, Law—sardonically speaking—watches with satisfying amusement, how you blatantly ignored Kid and in response to his crude remarks—tighten the bandages and adding just a bit too much pressure, earning a hiss from Kid.

»You know tiny, how about it?«

»How about what exactly, Eustass?«

Sighing in exhaustion, you packed up the first-aid kit. You weren't in the mood for Kids whatever nonsense—not when you're dead tired, probably low on sugar again and Luffy practically screaming in your ears, about something you truthfully had already forgotten.

All you wanted was to go to Law and snuggle with him in the darkest room you could find and sleep for the next few days.

»You and me both, one at one fight and when I win and I do win, I'll get you as the price.«

Kid liked to boast about his strength, knowing he could easily beat you, but he also knew you're an equally strong fighter as well. Your skills, almost Supernova level, he had witnessed first hand in a fight against Big Mom—he knows to what you're mostly capable of, though Kid certainly believes he would win anyway.

You pursed your lips at Kid, unimpressed and with raised eyebrow—annoyance you could feel itching through you. Never had you, in all your years, meet a person like Kid—who reeks so damn much of gloating self-confidence and arrogance.

»Aah. Sounds great, but I'm exhausted and in all honesty you surely would lose. I also need to decline as I'm already engaged.«

»Engaged?! To Whom?«

»To the Doctor.«

You causally pointed to Law, your boyfriend of two—almost three—years and now fiancé.

Now it was Laws turn to grin smugly at Kid, showing him the middle finger—like he had done before two years ago—again.

That's right, Law thought, you and him are engaged and there's no need to be riled up with jealousy by Kid—because in the end, Law has won.

»As if. Look tiny, there's no need to be afraid, I'll go easy on you and–«

Kid had stood up, slung his non-metal arm around your shoulders and before he could finish his sentence—you had grabbed his arm and flipped Kid with one swift motion onto the ground.

»Under the eye witness of everyone here, I won. Simple and truthfully.«

Kid would never admit it, he rather would eat Seastone than to say this aloud, but you just have gained his complete respect.

~~~

In the end, after finding you—changed into one of Laws old hoodies and shorts—and Law, all cuddled up in layers of blankets together, somewhere far away from the starting celebration party, Robin has won the bet and gained 50.000 Berries.

[jankwritten]

Jasico Bingo Challenge: Cuddles

“I wouldn’t call that cuddling,” Nico says, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “I would call it sitting near one another.” 

Across the infirmary, awaiting medical attention from the busy Apollo kids, Annabeth rolls her eyes. “He had his arm around you.” 

“You put your arm around me all the time,” Nico rebuts. 

“You were leaning on him!” 

“I was tired!” 

Annabeth slumps sideways in her cot and stares at him, unimpressed. 

Nico refuses to budge. Cuddling is not resting your head on someone when they offer to let you nap on them! Cuddling is, like, prolonged, sideways hugging, or something. He and Jason do not cuddle, and even if they did (which they do not!) they wouldn’t do it at the campfire, for Hera’s sake. 

“Fine,” Annabeth concedes without averting her intimidating gaze. “What about when you two took a nap under Thalia’s Pine? That was definitely cuddling.” 

Heat rises up to Nico’s ears. He turns around to face the countertop, littered with empty bandaid packaging and unportioned nectar. “It was not, and you’re weird for remembering that.” 

“You’re weird for refusing to admit you like cuddling with Jason,” Annabeth says. She’s long since perfected that I’m right, you’re wrong, shut up tone, the one that makes Nico bristle. 

“How does that make me weird?” he grumbles, slicing even squares into the pan of nectar. “I spent the last, like, four years of my life doing everything I could to avoid human contact. How is it weird that I wouldn’t want to admit to something like that.” 

For a few moments, Nico almost mistakes Annabeth’s silence for a victory. He finishes with the nectar and turns back around, ready to gloat and everything, and is instead met with the worst possible thing: Annabeth Chase wearing her planning face. 

“No,” he says immediately, putting a hand out, as if he can physically ward off whatever bullshit he’s about to get dragged into. “No.” 

“I think we need an outside opinion.” 

“I think you’re concussed, do not go spreading my personal business to camp!” 

“Not camp,” Annabeth flaps her hand at him, and does not refute the concussed accusation. “But definitely some trusted individuals, who have insight into your cuddling habits.” 

“I’m not above getting on my knees and begging you to drop this,” Nico says. He’s fully serious. He will do it. Anything to stop this from going any further, anything. 

Annabeth glances him up and down, like she’s sizing up how serious he might be. 

He clasps his hands together. 

She flops back in the cot. “Nope. I’m too invested now. I think I’ll ask Hazel, first-” 

“Dude-” 

“-and then Connor, he knew you when you were a baby, he’ll have some good insight.” 

Nico buries his face in his hands and groans. 

Annabeth Chase gets her concussion treated, then turns around and runs back to her cabin to draft an honest to the gods survey to hand out to what she deems as a trusted, reputable group. 

Any group with Connor Stoll and Percy Jackson in it is anything but reputable, in Nico’s mind. As soon as he hears that Annabeth’s really gone off the freaking deep end about this, he finds the darkest corner of camp and hunkers down to hide. 

The best thing to do when Annabeth’s got an idea? Weather it. She’ll either find her own solution, or she’ll lose interest. Nico hopes, for his reputation's sake, she doesn’t get any further than the distribution. 

Upside to this shitshow: Nico has time to clean his cabin, finally. A valid reason to tell Will that he genuinely cannot come do archery practice today, a valid reason to kick any and everyone off his porch, lock his doors, and play CDs on his radio as loud as he can tolerate. 

It is, unfortunately, one of his most productive days as of late, and as Nico lays on his newly-swept floor, sweaty but satisfied, he almost forgets the whole situation occurring at the hands of one stubborn daughter of Athena. 

Almost. 

“Nico?” 

Three knocks on the cabin door. 

“I can hear your music, I know you’re in there. If you want me to go away, that’s totally fine, I just- y’know, want to make sure you’re okay. I’ll leave you alone in a minute.” 

Nico rolls over, squishing his face into the hardwood for one deeply satisfying moment. Then, with all the reluctance of a man who is going to face embarrassment head on, he pulls himself up and trudges to the door. 

Jason, at the very least, has the decency to look worried rather than amused. He’s got his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his head tilted off to the side, his glasses off-center like they always are. He’s frowning, kind of. He looks like Mrs. O’Leary when Nico tricks her into thinking he’s got a treat for her. 

“I’m alive,” he says, as dry as he can manage. The CD skips. 

“That’s good,” Jason says. “I, uh, hear Annabeth’s keeping herself occupied.” 

Nico’s temple pulses with something not-quite-achey, but nearly there. 

“Just- come in,” he huffs, stepping aside. Dammit. “If anyone’s going to explain it, I would really rather rip the stupid bandaid off.” 

“Laughing at me feels kind of insulting, going to be honest,” Nico mutters while Jason hunches over himself, cradling his stomach, downright howling. 

“She’s- She’s up in arms- about cuddling!?” 

“I don’t know! I don’t know, Percy’s stupid bullshit is rubbing off on her and she’s losing braincells, Jason, she’s losing her mind. We need to find something new for her to build so she stops trying to instigate shit in my private life!” 

Jason slumps sideways onto the floor, half-laughing, half-panting. His leg presses solidly to Nico’s like this, sitting side by side against his bed. 

Nico turns his head up and away and forces himself not to notice. 

“She just cares about you,” Jason says. He stays down. Nico can practically feel how hard Jason’s heart is pumping from all that laughter. 

Jerk. 

“She cares about drama,” Nico says, though he knows it’s not totally true. Piper has gotten her more involved in the social life of camp, which is a good thing, really. Nico thinks it’s really cool that Annabeth has been able to come out of her own shell, after spending her whole life trying to prove herself, trying to be above everything, better than, the best. 

But does she have to do it at his expense? 

He rubs his hands over his face and sighs. 

Jason sits back up. 

“Are you really that upset about this?” he asks, his voice softened into a tone Nico got used to hearing in the days post-Cupid, the tone of a hero. “I know it’s still hard for you, to be comfortable and everything-” 

“I’m not upset about it,” Nico says. Admitting it makes his cheeks flush, but it’s the truth, and Jason has more than earned that with him. “I’m just…embarrassed.” 

“Awe, why’s it embarrassing? I mean, I get from your perspective, y’know, why you might find that embarrassing, but even if taking naps and stuff is cuddling, it’s not like it’s hurting anything,” Jason says. Then, softer, maybe hesitant, he adds, “right?” 

Nico’s heart tugs annoyingly into his ribs. “It’s not hurting anything, Jason, I’m not…I don’t know. I just feel a lot of things, I guess? And it’s a lot of, like, I-I don’t know how to react, when people poke fun at something I’m still- still getting comfortable with. I like being comfortable with you.” He pokes at the rips in his jeans and continues to ignore how much of Jason is pressed up against his side, how natural it feels to just sit with him like this. 

“I like that you like being comfortable with me,” Jason says, his own version of teasing, though one that Nico knows and understands and likes. He knows that Jason’s reassuring him by prodding at him like that. 

The next track on his CD starts to play—Jason turned the volume down, but didn’t shut it all the way off. They’re both too awkward in pure silence, but sitting together when there’s other background noise that means they don’t necessarily have to talk has become a staple of their hang-outs. There’ve been many an afternoon where Nico sets up on the floor of the Zeus cabin with his new, growing Mythomagic collection, while Jason sketches out temples at his desk. 

They’re so comfortable around one another, nowadays. 

Nico brings his knees up and nestles his chin on them, frowning at the opposite wall. 

Are they maybe too comfortable? If other people are starting to look at them interacting and put weird labels like cuddling on it? Isn’t cuddling something people who like each other do, anyway? Friends don’t cuddle. 

Nico feels his ears burn hot at the implication. Is that what Annabeth was trying to say? Does she think Nico likes Jason? 

He brings his arms up to cover his mouth. He chews on his lip. 

…does, Nico like Jason? 

 (to be continued) 

[rvspecter]

top ten favorite things about harvey?

MY FAVOURITESTESTEST TOPIC EVER 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

in no particular order but we should get the superficial out of the way

look at him

ahahaha he's perfect dahsdhadjhsakhd

to quote this embarrassing creature

2. secret softie

look at this dumb boy acting like he doesn't give a shit about mike ross "TOO MUCH WORK TO FIRE HIM" <- PLEASE

meanwhile behind the scenes he's leveraging his entire career for him

3. the lengths he'll go to protect those he loves (while being a dick)

he was willing to lose his licence, go to jail, break a billion laws WHATEVER IT TOOK to keep the people he loves safe but that doesn't stop him from being an asshole to them

4. his eyes ahahsdhkjsahdkhskdhak

i mean aside from being extremely expressive and emotive he just does the WHO HURT YOU face so well ok

5. HE'S JUST SO FUN AND FRUITY

6. arrogant but pulls it off

7. he doesn't impose his moral code on others (also doesn't want u to think he has a moral code)

8. he respects women

i'm gonna paraphrase u to u but not once do we see him gloat about the women he's slept with or objectify them. u don't see him flirt with his insubordinates (HE NEVER FLIRTED WITH RACHEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or noticed her existence prior to her involvement with mike ross)

he sells himself as a womanizer and commitment phobe BUT in 9 seasons we see him a) have 3 one night stands b) try to have actual relationships

9. HE'S A WOUNDED BIRD!!!!!

10. HIS ABANDONEMENT ISSUES

he thinks if he employs ppl and pays them well that he can make them stay SWEET BB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH AND BECAUSE I DO WHAT I WANT

11. he's the most sentimental character i've ever seen

i made a post

he sobbed a million tears over his mom's painting. HE KEPT MIKE'S ENTIRE APARTMENT WHEN HE FUCKED OFF TO SEATLE!?!?!?!?

[nouearth]

Keep up the good work, on behalf of the all the male readers on the app WE APPRECIATE YOU💖💖💖

angst with bruce wayne x malereader, where reader and bruce end up fighting cause reader kills the target on a mission their on. And bruce ended up injuring reader badly and putting them in the hospital. Days later when reader is finally able recover bruce apologizes and they have make up sex.TOPBruce wayne x BOTTOMmale reader.

If you wanna add any kinks that's up to you...

hi, anon! even though i just started, i appreciate you for even taking interest in my blog! it means a lot!

as for you request, i finished! i did have to change a few things, like bruce injuring the other. it just felt too toxic, in my opinion, but i hope this satisfies you!

you're here.

pairing ; bruce wayne / batman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, batman. word count ; 3694. genre; angst & smut. rating ; m. warnings ; arguing, blood, description of wounds, fighting, head trauma, mention and depiction of death and trauma, pwp, rimming (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), spitting, unprotected sex, top!brucewayne, bottom!reader.

one—THWACK! two—THUMP! three—CRACK! four— CRUNCH. five—THUD. six—SPLAT.

you repeat the sounds in your head. there’s still a small chance that the culprit is still alive; a lie of hope that you convinced yourself of as you lie on the pavement exhausted, catching up to your staggered breath before moving again.

when you crawl back towards the man, the adrenaline wears off and a groan of pain draws from your dry throat. you hiss when the wet pavement bites back at the open wound in your hand, and again when it scrapes against your limp leg as you drag your body closer to the criminal. your body sustains even more unfound injuries, but the ringing in your ears cloud your thoughts—your curiosity.

sluggish in movement, you take the man’s pulse.

nothing.

you’re desperate and you attempt again.

no pulse.

again.

you repeat this cycle about five more times and you want to cry. as much as you despised the wanted criminal for taking the life of your parents in the past, the night wasn’t supposed to end with a death. if anything, you expected to be that very body that was devoid of life, anticipated it even. but the longer you stared into those eyes—eyes that gloated over your parent’s death, over the loss of many more lives—you realized they no longer haunted you.

nothing. those eyes hold nothing.

he’s nothing now.

two sprawled figures bask in the thundering rainstorm, yet only one can see, hear, touch, and feel.

you remember losing the fight, your head was clubbed with a bat. your arm and hand were slashed. your ankle was twisted over a clumsy mistake. and then you fell, calling for help multiple times through your earpiece. he climbed on top of you and large, calloused hands wrapped and squeezed around your throat, cutting the airflow between you and life. you did your best to fight him off, but it only fueled his strength as he devilishly laughed at your suffering—laughed at the likely possibility of escaping into hiding again, into killing again. you didn’t think it would happen, but it did.

you saw your entire life flash before your eyes as you struggled for air.

memories—great memories of your parents appeared in quick flashes as you had remembered them, treasuring you with all their love within those short ten years before their violent deaths. you even saw your boyfriend. for the little amount of times he smiled as the caped crusader, he made up for it as bruce wayne. you’ve doubted his love before and maybe he was a great liar, but those memories proved otherwise. you were loved. and now, you are still loved, and you didn’t want that taken away from you again. before you knew it, your hand desperately searched for whatever you could find around the surrounding area. a brick, you presumed.

and the rest was history.

you crawl away from the body and lie in the alleyway as you wait for bruce’s arrival, repeating your location through the earpiece. he grunts in response, gunshots echoing in the background. you assume he’s still fighting off the gang that interrupted the three of you earlier. it was the perfect distraction that led to the criminal’s escape—a chase that you’d quickly catch up to when bruce told you to go.

it’s not long after until your solitude is joined by the shadow of the night. a draft blows into the air when the caped crusader jumps from the ledge and into the alleyway, his black cape dragging along wet pavement as bruce heavily makes his way towards you. “you’re hurt.” he says with calmness, but your tearing eyes induce worry.

“where is he?” he bombards you with similar questions about the man and your condition, slight frustration in his tone when you’re unresponsive, but he scans your body of wounds out of worry—necessity, and communicates through his earpiece. “base, sending you my location. make sure a doctor is on standby at the medical center.”

the detective in him naturally has him study the surrounding area, walking in puddles of water, searching every corner, and treading farther away from you until he stops in his tracks.

a body, one that sported a familiar face. at least, what bruce could make of a face.

“he’s dead…” you weakly declare, watching him with guilt and a heavy heart. even with the cowl on, you can see bruce’s expression. you knew you had broken his rule—a key element of his moral code: no killing. that was all he asked. he trusted you as you had trusted him.

“what do you mean he’s dead?!” bruce’s voice is harsher upon your revelation, a disbelieving hoarseness crescendos. he squats, examining the body at a closer view, hoping to find a fault in your assessment. after testing his pulse numerous times, he turns his head to you like a predator in the night. “i told you from the beginning that-“

“listen, i can explain-“ you stared motionlessly straight ahead, shutting your eyes when you can hear his trust being broken.

“i told you from the very beginning that this was a bad idea.” bruce restarts, making a point to not interrupt him. he breathes out his words slowly, an obvious attempt to remain calm, and marches towards you. “this was why. if you would’ve just let me handled it-“

“it was in self de-“

“i get that you want justice—for your parents, for the victims, for people like you who had to suffer the consequence of his own sick pleasures.” his cape swallows his large body whole when he squats down, leveling eyes with you. a gaze pierces your own with bitter coldness and disappointment, and you smolder with indignation.

cowering your gaze, you watch his hands—shielded by gauntlets—expertly scout the medical kit hidden in his utility belt. “but no matter how heinous the crime is, no matter how much it keeps you up at night, you control yourself. “ he sprays his diluted mixture of alcohol onto your hand wound, sparing use for the other open injuries you’ve sustained. “you let the legal system—the public—handle bringing criminals to justice. we simply help them.”

a tear breaks free when the alcohol bites at your skin, and the rest followed in an unbroken stream. he’s right. you should’ve controlled yourself. the first two hits were sure to knock him out, but you kept going, and going, until the criminal stained your conscience with his final breath. “if… if i hadn’t, i would’ve died, bruce.” you whisper weakly, lips bitten back to hold in emerging hiccups. you knew you weren’t supposed to use his real name, but this was no longer a conversation between you and the creature of the night—but you and the light of your life.

“i-i couldn’t walk. i couldn’t escape. and i couldn’t breathe.” you swallow, catching your breath. “he had his hands around my neck and…i called for you, but i-I guess it never picked up and…” tears burn in your sinuses and your throat goes dry again, coughing out sobs as you recalled the persona of death itself looming over your suffering body.

he’s silent, occupying the loss of words by patching your remaining injuries up. in the absolute stillness of the world, bruce conjures up alternative scenarios where death wasn’t the ending to this dreadful night. even if he had come, your injuries were more severe than he thought, and you would’ve lost blood­—too much blood.

the world moves again as silence is shattered by a siren blaring proud. its flashing lights welcome your tears with comfort and when you turn back to look at bruce for the second time, he’s gone.

it’s hasn’t been long since you’ve returned to your apartment. after a month or so of recovering in the hospital, it was nice to return to your daily life. instead of rehabilitating your leg first thing in the morning, you’d cook yourself breakfast and watch the news, taking it easy for the next few weeks.

bruce would visit the hospital as much as he could, but you were too drugged out to have a proper conversation. since you came home, he’s been distant. you’ve spent more time with alfred and while you didn’t mind having the older gentleman around in the morning (and occasionally scold you for having such a disorganized place), you missed bruce. he would text and call in place of his absence but it wasn’t the same. you needed him.

“and right on cue…” you amuse yourself as a phone call from bruce rings, bringing you back to reality. “y’ello?”

“i’m coming over.” he bluntly states, an elevator dinging in the back. he must still be in his meeting this late at night.

“okay- should i order delivery or something?” you get up to quickly change out of your sweatpants and make yourself look presentable, but before you could, there’s a knock at your door and you beeline towards the entrance instead. “we haven’t tried that ethiopian place that just opened up yet.“

you swing the door open, anticipating your neighbor as they often shared dinner with you at this hour. “hey- oh.”

“hi.” bruce surprises you with a half-smile, raising up takeout of the place you were just describing. he enters tall in his form-fitting suit, tailored perfectly to the broad form of his body. for most of your relationship, you’ve mainly seen him dressed in leisure or as the masked vigilante. you were always taken aback by how extra handsome he would become when he was ‘bruce wayne, proud owner of wayne enterprises.’ today was no different.

you shoved your phone into your pocket and closed the door behind him. “y’know, usually when people say they’re coming over… they’re not already over.” you keep your spirits high as if your relationship hadn’t been affected by something as significant as death, taking the bag, you guide bruce to the dinner table.

a hug would’ve been a nice ‘welcome home’ gift. you think to yourself as you unpack the contents of the takeout boxes into separate bowls.

there’s an awkward silence as you do so. other than a few questions regarding your condition, bruce is quiet, eyeing you like a hawk, and you could feel his gaze from the corner of your eye. “did… you poison the food or something? why are you looking at me like that?” you humor the two of you to the best of your ability, but the only laugh that follows is your own.

“no. never. i would never do that.” though he knew you meant it in good fun, the thought of you in the hospital again—dying—awakens a sense of guilt inside of him again. “i’m sorry.”

puzzled, you look at him confused, brows furrowed in concentration of his words as you set utensils in front of him.

“for… not being there with you—for you.” guilt weighs his head down and he’s now staring into his lap, hands clasped together over the dining table. you watch silently in your chair, reaching out to blanket his hands with the warmth that you missed giving him. “i shouldn’t have told you to go after him. i could’ve escaped from the gang and gotten to you in time. i could’ve-“

“bruce, i don’t blame you. i never did.” a sigh escapes from your lips, your hand leaving his in favor of pulling your chair next to his. eventually you had to have this conversation and you wished it happened sooner. in an ideal scenario, it would’ve been in the hospital as you were recovering. “you know that, right? what’s happened, happened. i-i know you didn’t want me to, but i had no choice-”

“i could’ve lost you too.”

too, you repeat to yourself—his parents. a flash of remembrance is exchanged between the two of you when he looks up, eyes burned with red as he does his best to console his tears. it’s painful to see him like this, but all you can do is embrace him, suffocating your tears into his shoulder—his onto yours. “bruce…”

“but you didn’t.” pulling back, you place a gentle kiss on his lips and you both close your eyes after taking his hands into yours. “you didn’t.” you assure him, solacing the imagination of you gone from his destructive world with another kiss—harder—to remind him that you’re still here. “i’m here.”

“i didn’t,” he murmurs in between your lips before returning the kiss, continuing for longer. the positive affirmation possesses bruce to guide your body further into his in between switching locations to your bedroom, stumbling from the passionate exchange. “you’re here.” he holds you tighter as if the draft in your bedroom could take you away, only briefly pulling apart to undress in a hurry. the taller man kisses at your neck. bruce inhaling deeply into the scent of your skin that he long feared he’d forgotten while large deft hands roam your body, memorizing every hickey that he had left months prior. faded now, but he plans to renew them.

“careful.” bruce is observant, kicking the bag behind your feet to the side before he could lay you back onto the bed and press his bare body into yours again. “look at what you do to me.” he alludes to his hard cock, flushed against your own. you respond with eager hips, thrusting into the warmth that your bodies would share every time your cocks touched. you knew you could come right there if you looked, so you don’t. instead, you’re gazing into his eyes, pleasured by the way they would roll back as you two would connect thrusts in a desperate exchange. “one moment i’m crying over you, and the next…”

“i want to be fucking into you so bad.” his confession garners a genuine laugh out of you, and you lightly tug at bruce’s slicked-back hair, pulling only harder when his lips don’t detach from suckling on your neck the first time. the skin on your face and body is hot and you could feel your cock pulsate when he looks at you, lustful and desperate.

“then why aren’t you?” you tease in a whisper, your thumb gliding across his swollen lips before a lick stops your lone digit in its stride. bruce torments you with desire, maintaining eye contact as he sucks on the pad of your thumb, repeating the same process until he’s done the same for the rest of your fingers. “come on… slowpoke.”

satisfied that you’re now just as needy as him, he spreads you wide in midst of re-adjusting his position to kneel before you. his torso hunches over yours to leave wet and sloppy kisses over your pecs, staining your skin with additional licks as he works his way down. at times, his hand would leave your waist to stroke himself to the sound of your whimpers, but you’d stop him with a gentle squeeze to his wrist, reaching down to replace his hand with yours.

with your hand, you encircle his large cock with a loose wrist, sloppily spreading his pre-cum over your palm and you find yourself doing the same to your own erection. bruce watches you for a moment before pleasure possesses him to roll his head and shoulders back, basking in your skin-crawling touch and the sound of your moans. your mouth waters at the erotic view that towers over your body. the strong muscles in bruce’s thighs flex—harden—to maintain balance as he briefly bends over you to fetch the lube from your drawer. fuck. and his cock throbs—grows harder with your every stroke.

you’re brought closer when he rolls you onto your stomach, pulling you onto all fours and with a sweaty palm to your back, pushing your torso flat to the mattress and leaving your hips raised. large palms massage at your ass cheeks, spreading them open multiple times to admire the way you automatically tighten your ass when the cold draft clouds over your heated flesh. within seconds, your thighs tense when the air is replaced by a slow lick over your hole, drawing another soft moan out of you. “bruce, please… i need you. right now. stop-” you desperately plea, impatient for his sex. you’re unbearably hard right now, thick pre-cum leaking onto the sheets, but bruce didn’t care. he wants to admire you for as long as he can—admire every part of you with the wet muscle.

raw and intense noises of pleasure are driven out of you as he plunders you with his tongue. one hand leaves your ass cheeks to jerk himself off to your most glorious sounds, savoring the taste of your flesh with loud slurps and spitting inside of you once more, seemingly to mark you. he explores your insides with the intent to set off another heavenly moan that is music to his ears, practically drooling inside of you when he reaches from under to feel how hard you are—how much you’re dripping because of him. wrapping his hand around your erection, bruce strokes to the pace of his needy licks, diving nose-deep into your ass, inhaling and exhaling your delicious musk. “shit- bruce…“  you breathe into your pillow, sweat collecting at your headline as you’re embarrassingly writhing under his control. soon after, he replaces his tongue with his lubed finger, twisting into you with slow ease as he continues to lick at the ring of muscle, impressed by the firm grasp you have on him.

“god, i wish you could look at yourself right now.” he makes sure you’re used to his finger before suddenly pulling out, amusing himself with how your hole desperately clings to the loss of intrusion as you whine, tormented by his teasing. bruce returns inside of you with another finger, slowly working you in until he feels comfortable enough to twist and spread the two digits, repeating the taunting motion again that left your hole clenching and unclenching earlier. your eyes roll into the back of your head, rocking back into the steady rhythm of his thrusting fingers. “i can’t believe i have you all to myself…”

“fuck me, please…i need you.” the battle for your pleasure raged as you beg into the bedsheets, your body coiling tighter as your hole grasps at his fingers despite rolling your hips forward. “i need your cock, bruce. fuck.”

“since you were so patient with me…” butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach as you feel a loss of fingers, anticipating it to be replaced with something bigger, thicker. he leans over with gratitude and tenderness, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and your body spirals when it does. you ball the loose fabric of your bedsheets into your palms when bruce’s thick cock slides right into you in one, long delicious move, and letting go to sprawl your fingers out when he pulls his hips back, his grunts ghosting your ear when he drives his cock back in.

bruce’s pair of hands sit at your hips as he slowly rocks you into his thrusts. each movement has you taking more and more of him until your ass is pressed against his pelvis, enveloping him, drawing him in, and at the same time, pushing him out. you feel full, filled when he burrows his cock deep inside of you, and you imagine he does too, his erection growing larger and harder as he fucks your heat with a steady rhythm. he kept on, slowing himself when he draws you back into him, onto a kneeling position, and quickening once again when you find balance within his strong embrace. your head lolls back on his shoulder as you stroke yourself to his franticness, driving himself into you harder to gut another delicious moan out of you—another animalistic groan out of him. your moans are caught in your throat when he slots his lips in between yours, only exhaling when bruce separates the tender flesh with his tongue to absorb that heavenly sound of yours like an addict.

when bruce is close to coming, he pulls out and lets himself cool, utilizing the brief cooldown period to minister your cock with quick strokes, lubing the throbbing muscle with his spit in between pumps.

then he starts again, guiding his cock with one hand and deliberately feeding your pucker with his pre-cum before pushing back inside of you again. falling forward from the force, you roll your hips back into him, crying out his name as you’re desperate for his cock. bruce fucks into you faster, harder, with no intention of stopping, palming at your cock at the most sensitive glans because he can feel you’re close. his grip on your hip is strong, bruising, as he uses all his strength to make you come. your stomach sinks and coils in anticipation of familiar feeling coming to a boil at the pit of your stomach, fucking yourself back into bruce’s cock and then into his palm as you’re hopeless under his touch. you can feel droplets of his sweat drip onto your back, the smell of your musk and his thickening the air with breath-taking fervor, and the taste of heaven and stars when you cry out again, coming undone within his fist.

“oh, fuck..!” bruce doesn’t stop jerking you off. he continues to milk you with a forceful grip, beating you off to rhythm of his thrusts—to the sound of sticky sweat-stained skin slapping into each other—until he finally feels himself come inside of you in long, trembling runs. one last thrust, and the head of his dick hits that sweet spot of yours.

he shudders into you, exhausted, collapsing forward and calling your name in tremulous breaths. you exhaustedly turn your head to catch his voice in between your lips, moaning and kissing into his parted mouth as warm cum leaks out of you in slow drips, streams rolling down your thighs and onto its way to stain your bedsheets.

“you’re here.”

“i’m here.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[rah1457]

(i realized i have free will and can post whatever and whenever i want this tag is cooked)

it had been a rough day for you. as you drowned in THE FLOOD, you began to lose hope in yourself. these obbies felt like they were getting harder every day...when you respawned, you went and sat in the corner of the elevator, resting your head in the crook of your arm.

gnarpy was the only other individual in the elevator. their spaceship had crashed at a camp, so xe looked for shelter nearby

luckily, this strange elevator was open, and Gnarpy had no better option other than to hop on.

Worst. Decision. Of. Xyr. Life.

Not only was xe constantly surrounded by these absolutely IDIOTIC lifeforms, but these same lifeforms wanted to make FRIENDS with xem! A Gnarpian! they almost laughed at the absurd thought. No, obviously, Gnarpians were superior to all these elevator freaks.

so NOW Gnarpy was stuck in an elevator with YOU. Xe really didn't have a lot of words to describe you. Annoying. A pain. Generally weak and useless. Yeah, that was right...

You were currently in a corner, lamenting your choices in life. occasionally being a bit over the top but who cared? You knew that Gnarpy hated you regardless.

"You humanz are ZOOO dramatic," xe rolled xyr eyes.

"Wh-Excuse me?!" you sputtered.

"You heard me. That FLOOD would have been EAZY to beat. I could have done it in NO TIME," they stated with an air of pride.

You glared at Gnarpy, sighed, and put your head back into your hands. Honestly? You didn't doubt that the cat alien could complete any given floor. it didn't make you feel any better. the elevator went silent as you sat there, trying to hold yourself together long enough to get to the next floor.

"...You juzt needed to jump a bit fazter, " xe mumbled under xyr breath.

"What was that?"

"ARE ALL OF YOU EARTHLINGZ BRAINLEZZ?! I ZAID YOU NEEDED TO JUMP QUICKER!"

"Wait, that's what I was missing?" you DID recall going a bit slow...

"Yez, juzt be more efficient with your movementz. Yearz of training have taught me...." they continued to gloat about how xe was trained, and other stuff that essentially boiled down to gnarpians being the greatest, and world domination.

"...and THAT'Z how I survived the great aztral shower,"

"...oh! uh huh, yeah, cool!" you definitely zoned out. listening to gnarpy go on and on was...something else.

"WERE YOU EVEN LIZTENING?!"

"..no,"

You fully expected a threat, or a curse in xyr native language, but all you were met with was a twitch of xyr eyes, and a swish of xyr tail. xe sat back and went silent. you really didn't think it would have THIS much of an effect on Gnarpy. Xe usually didn't care about anyone or anything...

"Well, thanks for the advice on THE FLOOD. I'll be sure to use it next time. Gregoriah won't have to worry about a thing," you flashed a smile.

Xe glared at you, "Whatever. You zhould juzt die,"

"Yeah, yeah, you say that everytime, and guess who always comes back?" you pointed to yourself.

Xe snorted, "Unfortunately,"

You laughed and bounced off the regretevator to your next floor. The doors closed. The alien general sat down in their spot. discomfort pulled at xyr heart that had been absent for far too long. xe missed xyr home.

but xe found that you felt a lot like that home.

[yumeurl]

harry, draco, and sectumsempra

this is just to write my own interpretation about the scene and what it meant for me before i start another 596765 thread on my twitter gmemgfdg

i know sectumsempra is like, The Drarry Fodder in the book that's already drarry fodder overall; it is to me as well, though taking off my fudan glasses halfway i see it as a symbolism more than anything else

harry and draco have a funny dynamic throughout books 1-5. they regard each other as 'archenemies' according to harry, yet their fights mostly consist of taunts, quidditch or normal wizard duelling. it's rare to see them actually physically harming each other, and in the rare instances that they do, it's ron and hermione who did it (the first year fight and hermione's slap), or if it's harry, it's because draco went too far with his goading and he was at the angriest point of his life.

only one of these did draco actually try to fight back, and it was with ron. throughout the books he has shown to be aversive of physical fights and pain in general, even neville(who was regarded as a loser for so long) trying to attack him he cowers behind his bodyguards.

i think this is one of the few things that enabled him to regret being a DE tbh. while crabbe and goyle never became a fullfledged death eaters, they support voldemort and have this naivety that makes them think casting killing spells or torturing people is just like playing with a toy. draco does not, atleast when reaching this point.

anyways, so draco is typically aversive to fights that truly harm a wizard, and harry does the same thing, atleast to draco. both of them don't really harm each other. all of their spells are fixable, no matter if the reader finds them mean or too much. and in the instances where they go too far (this is mostly draco tbf), they back off and go back to the status quo.

this is schoolyard fighting to them, even in ootp, when voldemort has came back, draco's taunts and motivation doesn't stem from serving him, it's from getting back at Potter. it's their thing, it's constant. both of them know that subconsciously

but sectumsempra is symbolism of this dynamic ending, end of an era if you will. they Can't return to schoolyard fighting, try as they might. draco has to follow voldemort or risk him or his family killed, while harry has to follow dumbledore and kill vodemort.

harry, in his 'finding out what malfoy is up to' thing, operates as if it's a little mystery to solve. it's not That serious at this point. while he had suspicions that whatever draco is doing is DE related, i don't think he knows the true severity of it. why would he? malfoy is a constant, they've duelled many times before and they don't truly hurt each other. alot of the DE damage is outside of hogwarts as well, hogwarts is safe and untouchable.

sectumsempra marks the end of that. not only draco attacks first in a hostile manner, but their spells escalate as it goes on:

Levicorpus -Harry Blocking spell for Levicorpus -Draco unnamed spell that caused the bin behind harry to explode -Draco Leg-Locker Curse -Harry Crucio (incomplete) -Draco Sectumsempra -Harry

(i still think it's highly unlikely that harry heard crucio and retaliates with sectumsempra like what people believe. he didn't even know that the spell would do to fight back with it... but that's for another post)

in just one fight, draco tried to torture harry (regardless if it would've worked or not), harry harmed draco with an unknown dark spell that he doesn't know the counter to, and harry basically finds out that whatever draco's doing where he gloated all about it at the beginning of the year is something that's giving him distress. enough to cry and talk to moaning myrtle of all people

it's different from their constant. malfoy shouldn't cry and he should retain his same spoiled brat personality. harry shouldn't dabble in the dark arts especially when he doesn't really know what it does. it rattled him so much (plus losing all the things he was fixated on this school year all at once, not just finding out what draco's up to) it's enough to make harry stop with his investigation and start a love life gmrgmfdgf

i'm also interested at how harry thinks about draco at the end of the book

He despised Malfoy still for his infatuation with the Dark Arts, but now the tiniest drop of pity mingled with his dislike.

you dislike draco for his 'infatuation with the dark arts'?? not calling your friends insults and slurs?? gmeogmfdg and the word dislike too... but you can tell when he truly hates a person, like snape or even mclaggen. for draco it's just constant to butt heads with him, maybe even fun. voldemort's insistence of killing harry makes harry's childhood and innocence slowly get taken away, even the presumed constant of fighting draco malfoy won't remain constant forever

[beestriker015]

Rio x male s/o headcanons

It’s no secret that Rio Kastle is incredibly popular with the boys at Heartland Academy.

Despite this, there’s only one boy that the blue haired girl is interested in, and that’s her close friend s/o, whom she met when they were both first year students.

“You’re new here too huh? My name’s s/o, what’s yours?”

He introduces himself and greets her with a friendly smile, which she returns.

“I’m Rio. Nice to meet you s/o.”

After their initial meeting, it didn’t take long for s/o and Rio to become friends, especially since he was one of the select few male students who wasn’t constantly fawning over her, much to her appreciation.

Being friends with Rio means it was inevitable for s/o to meet her brother Shark, who at first didn’t like the idea of his little sister hanging out with some boy, but after seeing how much the two care about each other, he eventually grew to like and accept s/o.

“You’re an ok guy s/o, but if you try anything funny with my sister I’ll make you regret it. Got that?”

“She’s my best friend Shark, I’d never do anything to hurt her. I promise you that.”

Hearing the seriousness in his words, the male water duelist cracks a smile.

“Good, because I’d hate for Rio to lose the only person willing to put up with her.”

The two chuckle at this and soon enough become friends as well.

As time passes, it becomes clear that Rio and s/o have started to see each other as more than friends, but before either could confess their feelings, tragedy strikes.

Rio is rushed to the hospital after a duel related accident, much to the horror of both Shark and s/o.

Tears fall from s/o’s eyes as he stares at his friend/crush, who is currently unconscious and lying in a hospital bed.

“Rio, I swear Shark and I will make whoever did this to you pay! Just please, don’t leave me.”

When the time finally comes that Rio awakens from her coma and is cleared to leave the hospital, she is quickly greeted by a relieved and emotional s/o.

“Shark told me the news! Rio, I’m so glad you’re ok!”

He proceeds to pull her into a tight embrace, causing the younger Kastle sibling to blush before she hugs back.

“Thank you s/o, I’m happy to be up and about too, especially because it means I can see you again. There’s something I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to. I don’t want to wait any longer, so here it is. S/o, I….I really like you.”

Knowing what she means, he looks at her with a big smile.

“I feel the same way Rio. So, are we like…a couple n-”

She cuts him off by pulling him into a kiss, thus marking the beginning of them indeed being a couple.

Despite dating each other, not much really changed between Rio and s/o due to how close they already were besides being more affectionate with each other.

Jealousy is pretty much exclusive to s/o, but only to the extent of him getting annoyed at how his male peers continually simp over his girlfriend.

“Ugh, they know we’re together, so why are they still drooling over you babe?”

“What can I say s/o? That’s the kind of thing guys like you have to deal with when their girlfriend is so pretty.”

She says with a giggle as s/o sighs.

“I guess, but just so you know Rio, pretty is an understatement. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

This causes his girlfriend to smile and blush as the two leave school to go on a date.

Speaking of dates, they pretty much consist of the usual things young couples do like going to the movies, the carnival, etc.

However, since Rio and s/o are both duelists, their favorite way of spending time together is having a nice friendly duel, which usually ends up with Rio winning.

“I beat you again s/o. Better luck next time.”

She gloats as her boyfriend pouts.

“Hey! I’m getting better, so next time will be different!”

“Whatever you say babe.”

Being the superior duelist, Rio absolutely gives her boyfriend pointers and tutors him on how to better his dueling skills, which is something the two of them enjoy quite a lot.

“Thanks so much for mentioning me Rio. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He tells his girlfriend as she smiles and wraps her arms around him.

“Hopefully you never have to find out. You’d be so lost without me.”

She says to him teasingly, both unaware of what’s soon to come.

Once Rio and Shark discover that they’re actually Barians and decide to join them, s/o is utterly heartbroken.

“N-no….why Rio? Why?”

Not long afterwards, s/o confronts Rio, who is one of the Seven Barian Emperors and now goes by Marin.

“R-Rio?! Why are you and Shark doing this?!”

He exclaims while looking at his girlfriend in her Barian form.

“I am no longer Rio. My name is Marin, and my brother is Nash. The girl you knew is gone s/o, but if you insist on challenging the Barians, then prepare to duel!

She tells him sternly, breaking s/o’s heart even more before he gains a look of determination and readies his duel disk.

“Fine then, but if I win….I want the old you back!”

Unfortunately, s/o stood no chance against Marin’s Chaos Number and is easily defeated, causing him to drop to his knees.

“I lost. Rio…I’m sorry.”

Before he is sent to Barian World, Marin transforms back into her human form and stares at him sadly.

“I love you s/o.”

She leans down and kisses him before he disappears, tears rolling down her cheeks once he does.

Once Astral uses the Numeron Code to bring everyone back, including the former Barian Emperors who are now human again, Rio and s/o continue their relationship as normal.

“After everything we’ve been through, I’m still glad to have you as my girlfriend. I love you Rio.”

“And I wouldn’t want anyone else as my boyfriend but you s/o, I love you too.”

The two look at each other lovingly and share a passionate kiss, both knowing they’ll always be together from that point forward.

[draw-ren-draw]

Avantris Comic Scripts #2

Often when I get ideas for comics, I break my panels into scripts first. These are less prose-y than fics but still contain dialogue and basic interactions. You seem to have enjoyed my first one, so have a few more, this one featuring my initial thoughts on "Gorebek"

Confrontation with 'the Duke' (spoilers up to ep: 56!) [A script I wrote to explore my personal headcanon about Torbek's situation; I think this would be a delightful twist that suits what Nikki and Andy might be plotting for us. Please be sure you are caught up to episode 56 to avoid any spoilers! These ideas are not confirmed just my personal favorite take~] * * * * [After another grueling battle, 'The Duke' has made himself known by taking control of Torbek's body once again. Dripping with the blood of his latest conquest, the party stands at odds with the most sane and yet somehow scariest version of their friend yet. This time, the Witchlighted to hell and back bugbear has no interest in further bloodshed and seems more inclined to take his leave. Weapons drawn, Carnivale Lecroux debate whether to fight or allow this unexpected threat to flee, knowing they could risk losing Torbek too.]

Kremy: "You're outnumbered so KINDLY get the hell out of Torbek already!" Gideon: "Ya can't just show up after somebody's been experimented on and claim that bodies your own!" "Not my own?" The Duke pauses, considering something while facing away. "Let me get this straight. Your friend. Who speaks in grunts and the third person. Can barely write his name. And you think he's the original personality?"

A hush falls over the crowd Gricko: "… In hindsight…" Frost: "…it does make a disturbing amount of sense.."

'The Duke' smirks and misty steps closer to Kremy, taunting the lizardfolk. 'The Duke': "You never could remember me, could you?" Kremy: "Now that's not true, the herri--" 'The Duke': "You just believed whatever it was I told you, it was easy enough to picture." The Alligator squints, fae magic clouding his mind. Something about what this not-Torbek is saying does make an insidious amount of sense. He grits his teeth, unable to find the lie. Kremy: "… Think I'm beginning to remember why I didn't like remembering you."

Gideon is not falling for it and he's even more incensed after seeing someone make Kremy of all people unsure about something.

Gideon: "So what. This is just 'YOU' now? You're just gonna leave and take Torbek along, just like that? He's not coming back this time?" 'The Duke' steps back again, testing how far he can push his retreat without being suspect. He stretches his arms in a gloating manner. 'The Duke': "I assure you, I have lived more in this body than 'HE' has ever forgotten." The Duke smiles cruelly, all teeth, eerily wide and full of malice. 'The Duke': "But that's right. You're the chosen heroes of the faewild, aren't you? Then ask yourselves this: are you really okay with erasing someone from existence just because you like another side of them better?"

Twig: "We are if he's a little BITCH!" Gideon gives the brownie a supportive pat with a laugh Gideon: "Well said Twig."

'The Duke': "But is that JUST?" He continues to raise his arms in a taunting manner, but it is clear he is starting to look and sound a little more harried (as anyone with sense usually is after prolonged exposure to these idiots) 'The Duke': "You think you can get him to override me? ME? The Duke of the Twilight Court??!"

Kremy sidebars with Gideon. Kremy: "We could if we got him to fall off the Herris wheel couple more times." Gideon: "Hehe yeah! Couple a hits and he'd be back to full form no problem!" Kremy: "Can't hit him too hard though, have a repeat of Chuckles." Gideon: "Nah, He ain't a clown, I don't think he'd laugh to death if we punched him in the body like Chuckles did."

'The Duke' interrupts, flustered at being ignored. 'The Duke': "ENOUGH!" 'The Duke:' THIS is the faewild; MAGIC country! Anything is possible. We'll see who the land's deem most worthy of sticking around. A distinguished aristocrat-- or a blubbering waste of flesh." Bonus panel: Internal Torbek dialogue represented in a sad thought bubble 'Gottttta say, the odddds aren't in Torbeksss favorrrrrr'

[Some details have slightly shifted as I developed this idea more, but I thought there was still a lot to like in these character interactions in this original draft.]

[mugentakeda]

iroh azula antagonism is sooo important to me guys i cant ever read azula redemption fics cus none of them include their insane beef. its such a lonely world out here. can u even imagine how nuts it wouldve been if she found out abt the white lotus. i need to talk ab them dude

i like to imagine the trip back to the fn after ba sing se zuko didnt talk to iroh at all while he was in the brig because he was so in shock and still reeling that iroh outright betrayed him and his family and nation for the avatar. those three years iroh spent with zuko on the ship encouraging him meant what now? "why would he banish you if he didnt care" meant what now that you helped what would undo the banishment evade me?

and azula has never been above gloating, even over the most pathetic scum. so she makes sure to head to the brig the night they depart, her exhausted brother conked out in his quarters none the wiser, mai and ty lee flanking her. and even though the mission had been to capture the avatar dead or alive, theres something about looking down at her restrained uncle whod been working the whole time to get zuko (who has an unending list of faults but is loyal above all else and had been trying his hardest to fulfill the terms of his banishment even while being a wanted criminal to their nation- something she will not overlook) to betray their nation is somehow more satisfying by tenfold than looking down at a restrained avatar.

she knows just how hard iroh takes losing. he lost ba sing se and a son years ago, and here he has lost ba sing se and a son once more. or a boy his senile, trauma-riddled mind has convinced him is his son. her uncle bet against her father by trying to turn his son against him for whatever traitorous and foolish reasons he has and frankly shes just overjoyed to have him out of the way once and for all, because azula is a dragon just as much as iroh and she will always strive to protect her blood, because irohs the one who let zuko into that war room in the first place, because what right does he have to allow her foolish brother that couldnt keep his trap shut to save his life in a situation like that and then have the audacity to try and turn him against them when zuko even being in ba sing se (instead of working under azula along with mai and ty lee like he shouldve been) was all his fault in the first place? she hopes freeing zuko of him stings unlike anything else. she hopes if that sting manifested in reality it would take the shape of an ugly stamp right across his face and haunt him for the rest of his days in his self made prison.

and then iroh can say that zuko had no choice BUT to be loyal above all else because if he wasnt thats a death sentence from ozai. and then azula can say that thats wise of her father then because if that wasnt how it was then their whole family would be an infested nest of lying cowards like iroh. mustve been something her dad learned from his dear old brother. and what can iroh even say to that