#since in many cases i don't know the answers to your questions yet

[allbridgesburn]

I am absolutely loving ‘all your wasteland flowers’ and I am so looking forward to where it’s going. I love all the characterizations and I love the smut. Married life for them is going to be interesting for sure. I am curious about a few things.

Does Mallory know Coriolanus is her father or is that going to be a talk that comes later?

Who was that couple that Coriolanus went to talk to at the wedding? Will we be seeing more of them? Are they the Plinths? It will be interesting to see Lucy Gray’s reaction if they are.

Also, I’m guessing Coriolanus has babies on the brain and he wants more sooner rather than later. Excited to see where it all goes. I love your writing!

Thank you!! It makes me so happy that people are actually invested in this little fic, I never expected such a response..... I'm cryin a little with each comment ngl what a life!

But I can't say anything!! I'm sorry! Obviously. You'd hate me if I spoiled everything with a tumblr post, I'm sure 🤣

I can say, at least, that yes, it was the Plinths. He knew she'd get ballistic if she found out that he's getting cosy and sponsored by the parents of the best friend he got killed so-- good thinking on his part I guess! But can he keep this secret for long? Wouldn't count on it! xoxo

[barcaatthemoon]

attention whore || alexia putellas x reader ||

minors dni, 18 +, smut ahead.

alexia punishes you after act like a brat to get her attention.

alexia's grip was tight on your hips as she led you away from the hotel bar. many of the girls were watching the two of you. frido and sandra had been sat with alexia earlier in the night, the three of them deciding not to indulge with everybody else. you may have all just won a big match, but there was still a lot more work to do. you understood that, but you also wanted to cut loose and have some fun.

"don't try to look back, just keep going," alexia said with a sharp pinch to your thigh. she didn't seem to care at the little noise you made from the pain. it had been a long time since you had done something to get alexia like that.

"ale," you whined. she placed her hand on the back of your neck as the two of you got into the elevator together. she forced you to turn and look at her. all you saw was the angry flare of jealousy in her eyes. "ale, i'm sorry."

"no, you're not," alexia laughed. it was dangerous whenever she got like that. you knew that you'd be punished, but the longevity of it was unknown to you. alexia could get over it within a couple of minutes or she could decide to drag things out and torture you for weeks on end. "if you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes."

"i wasn't playing any games, i swear. all i was doing was talking to another player," you tried to plead your case with her, but it was no use. alexia wasn't going to buy any of your excuses, not that you blamed her. alexia hadn't been giving you her attention, so you tried to seek it elsewhere.

"don't lie to me, it will only make things worse for you," alexia warned you. she knew what you were doing because you had done it before. you were a very needy person, and alexia had a lot of practice dealing with that. she had been getting used to it before the two of you had even gotten together. "god, i don't even know if i want to look at you right now."

"ale, please." you weren't sure if pouting and playing up your neediness for her was the right move. your question seemed to be answered once alexia got you back into the hotel room. she seemed hellbent on turning your desire for attention back on you. it was attention that you wanted, so alexia was going to give you everything that you could handle and then some.

"strip and get on the bed for me with your legs spread. don't you dare lay a finger on yourself, understood? tonight, your body is mine, and only mine," alexia told you. you followed her instructions, undressing yourself quickly before you scrambled up onto the bed. alexia watched you lay there with your legs spread for her as she poured herself a drink from the mini bar.

you started to squirm beneath her gaze as she pulled a chair up across from where you were laying. alexia smirked as she sipped on her drink. there wasn't a single hint of a movement to touch you just yet. alexia seemed to be content to watch you squirm and suffer under her gaze. and the worst part was that you couldn't do anything to cover yourself up without warranting a worse punishment from her.

"are you going to sit there all night ale?" you asked her.

"be patient, let me finish my drink bebita. you're getting what you wanted, i'm paying attention to you," alexia said. she leaned forward a little, just enough to place one of her hands on your ankle. alexia noticed the way that your eyes flicked down to her hand on your skin and tsked. "eyes up here. i want us to both enjoy this moment."

"sorry," you mumbled out an apology. alexia leaned down and pressed a kiss to your calf. you struggled to keep your eyes on her as she finished her drink. alexia finished her drink, and for a moment, you got excited about the idea of her getting in bed with you. "what are you doing?"

"getting myself another drink. you're so fucking hot that i feel absolutely parched," alexia answered smugly. you hated the look on her face, even if it was one that you usually loved. alexia raked her eyes up and down your body as she poured herself a second drink. this time, she sat down on the bed in between your legs. foolishly, you sat up a little, only to be shoved right back down.

"ale," you whined.

"(y/n)," alexia mocked. you pouted and looked away from her, rolling your eyes as you did. alexia grabbed onto your jaw, forcing you to look at her. she leaned in until your lips were almost touching and told you, "if you look away from me again, i swear i'll stop. and trust me, i can go a lot longer without fucking you than you can handle."

"i'm sorry," you apologized. alexia let go of your jaw, allowing for that hand to go straight between your legs. "tell me what you want from me."

"i want you to lay back and let me have my fun," alexia told you. it was difficult not to sit up and move with her, but alexia wasn't giving you that option. you knew that if she stopped again, she'd make you beg for her to touch you again later. you were getting past the point of even wanting to be bratty with alexia. she was finally touching you, working away at the tension that had been building up inside of you.

you wanted to close your eyes as her fingers toyed with your clit. alexia knew just how to touch you in order to distract you. she knew exactly what she was doing, but you held strong. you forced yourself not to let go, even as alexia pushed two fingers inside of you. she was moving with the intention of roughly fucking you, something that alexia knew would have you looking away from her before you came.

"ale, please," you whimpered. you reached down and grabbed her wrist, slowing her movements down just a bit. "i can't do this much longer. ale, don't make me, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

"you haven't even cum yet. don't you want me to make you cum?" alexia asked as she curled her fingers inside of you. she watched as your brows furrowed and a small string of curse words left your lips. "i thought that this was what you wanted from me."

"i wanted you, that was all. i just wanted your attention, but not like this. i'll behave, just please, let me close my eyes," you pleaded with her. alexia shifted, spreading your legs a little wider as she pushed her hips against yours. "ale, please."

"since you've been asking so nicely, i guess that i will, under one condition. i want you to tell me how much you love me," alexia said. she stilled her fingers inside of you, but kept her thumb rubbing lazy circles around your clit.

"fuck! i love you so much alexia, i swear. i love you so fucking much, i don't think i've ever loved anybody like i love you. i love you on the pitch, i love you at home, and i love you right here between my legs fucking me. i love you when i'm staring at you, and i love you when i can't see you," you rambled. alexia's features softened as she leaned down and kissed you. her fingers started up again, and this time, you couldn't hold yourself back. alexia didn't seem to mind as she felt you clenching around her fingers.

"hey," alexia said softly as she pulled her fingers out of you.

"what?" you asked weakly. alexia laid down next to you, staring at you as she propped herself up on her elbows.

"i love you too." alexia leaned in and kissed your cheek.

"do you love me enough to get me some comfy clothes?" you asked her. alexia nodded and rolled out of bed. you watched as she grabbed some clothes for you to wear before changing out of her outfit from the bar.

alexia was a little extra cuddly once she got back into bed with you. she could tease you in the bedroom all she wanted about you wanting her attention, but she wanted yours just as badly. the only difference was her method of grabbing your attention. however, both of you almost always seemed to cling to each other the same way once you got a little bit of acknowledgement.

[ssahotchnerr]

how about doing a birthday celebration with the team for aaron and he feels overwhelmed bc he’s so used to doing nothing for his birthday since haley passed and felt alone even with jack <333

celebrated

happy birthday aaron 🥹<33 cw; established relationship, mentions of haley, aaron self deprecating (it's sad - i'm sad), references to alcohol, mentions of food, hurt to comfort wc; 1.4k

about an hour or so in, you found aaron in the kitchen, half sitting-half resting against the counter. the man of the hour had been missing in action; he'd gone in search of a drink a while ago and had yet to return.

it was november second, aaron's birthday, and the first birthday you were spending with him. naturally, you wanted to go all out, for aaron to feel nothing but loved on his special day.

it wasn't a surprise party, aaron had been aware the whole time (you knew he didn't favor surprises too much), but had zero part in planning. he was only aware of the time jess were to drop over to pick up jack for the night, and the time of which the others would be arriving at the apartment. which, had been swallowed up with balloons, colorful streamers, confetti was scattered across the floor (which truthfully you were dreading picking up later, and hopefully you all wouldn't still be finding pieces for the next month), a banner was hung on the wall. his team were all in attendance, drinks were flowing, lively conversations were being had, a table of god only knew how many appetizers.

it was going nearly as perfectly as you had visualized, mind the part where aaron snuck away.

"hey, you alright?" you sidled up to him, your hand comfortably resting on his back.

aaron nodded, meeting your eyes as he lifted his drink to his lips. his eyes maintained their usual soft glow, but appeared down. "all good."

you weren't convinced, your puzzlement clear. "but you're hiding?"

"i wouldn't call it hiding." he chuckled softly, a sigh leaving him as he set his glass of whisky down. "just soaking it in? the night's been great, don't get me wrong. but it feels... strange."

you moved in front of him to wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him flush against you. "can i ask why?"

"the last time i had a banner," aaron chuckled again, a melancholiness suddenly overtaking him. "jack was practically a newborn - haley's doing."

"oh."

"yeah." aaron's hand ran up and down your back instinctively, mindlessly drawing shapes. "brings back memories."

"god i can only imagine." you sobered, tucking yourself more into his chest. your ear was pressed against him, hearing his steady heartbeat.

"i guess overwhelmed is the correct word to describe it. haley always went all out, then the divorce happened and then..." an exhale left him. "birthdays since, never did anything. i guess it was acknowledged but never celebrated. come to think of it, i don't think i've ever celebrated with the team."

as if on cue, a loud commotion came from the other room - team mid-drinking game.

once it had died down, you queried, "how come?"

aaron continued, the hand on your back rising to the surface just below your neck, finger pads pressing into your skin comfortably. "some years we were on a case, penelope hosted her Día de los Muertos parties, or everyone was still recovering from halloween. trust me, i'm sure no one would be too keen on partying again the next night. and you know me, to them, i'm not the heartfelt, full of life, approachable type. not worth it." he laughed, but it was more so an attempt to brush it off.

but it didn't sit right with you - of course it didn't. "did you ever say something about it?"

"it's okay." it wasn't, and he didn't answer your question. "i felt alone, sure, but when didn't i? i managed, and just took jack out for ice cream if i happened to be around. i don't think he ever knew the reason why, either."

you craned your head up to look at him. this surprised you. "you never told him?"

"it's," aaron paused, exhaling a breath. "complicated. he knows but he doesn't. he's young, the only dates he's technically supposed to remember at seven are christmas, halloween, his birthday." aaron shook his head, feeling almost silly. "what was i supposed to do, just out of the blue state, 'it's my birthday'?"

"well, it wouldn't have hurt. he could've made you a card, or wished you happy birthday at the bare minimum."

"i didn't want to inconvenience him-"

"aaron," you laughed sadly, your heart shattering at the same time. "he's your son."

"it's okay." there it was again. "my birthday wasn't a huge deal growing up anyway. if i wasn't as gravely punctual as i am and paid attention to the date, it most likely would pass as any other, normal day."

you fell silent; having so much to say, but having no idea how to fully express it. you just felt, sad. for him.

aaron sensed your dropping demeanor, and placed a kiss on your forehead to hopefully counter it. "it doesn't matter much now. i have you."

"but yet, you're still here rather than out there." you nudged your head towards the direction of the distant yells. "and i didn't even think about you potentially getting overwhelmed, i'm sorry. this party, it's an almost drastic change come to think of it, and i should've-"

"are you kidding?" astonishment reigned in his voice. "the fact that you went through all this - planning, coordinating, decorating - for me. it makes up for all those years alone. and i'm not just saying that because i love you." he gave you a cheeky expression, but you knew he was only playing it up to lighten the situation, despite his genuineness. "even breakfast with jack in bed this morning. i never pictured myself as the type to get breakfast in bed, stuff like that doesn't happen to me. it was really, really special, thank you."

"well, you better get used to it." a rush of air left your nose - makeshift laughter - as you thought back to earlier in the day. "not only was it a hit for you, but jack as well. he already brought up pancakes instead of waffles, with sprinkles, for next year."

a laugh shook through aaron's chest, jostling you a bit, before he fell silent, his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.

"you deserve to be celebrated." you offered softly, the solemness reentering your heart, although it never left.

it weighed heavy on you - the man who gave you everything, who made you feel like you were everything, and who deserved it even more, defining himself as close to nothing. it was in complete aaron fashion, but you wished he wouldn't downplay, everything about himself, or make up 'rational' excuses to be okay with being overshadowed. he wasn't only meant to be there for others, to be thinking of others - he deserved happy, simple things too.

aaron's expression started to pull into one of disagreement, but you were quick to halt it. "hey, no. you deserve to be celebrated. i can't even tell you how much your existence means to me. being with you, doing life with you, seeing you be the best dad to jack and the most integral leader to the team. they value you, trust you, and you're family to them. they wouldn't be here tonight if you were some hard ass who wasn't worth it. that's not you. and i thank the stars every day you're here with me."

"honey-"

"please. say it."

nothing short of longing was cast on your face, in your eyes, and aaron were suddenly afraid that if he didn't admit so, the tears would start rolling.

he sighed, "i deserve to be celebrated."

"no, you gotta say it like you mean it."

aaron playfully rolled his eyes, but caved, his tone more forceful this time around. "i deserve to be celebrated."

"you're damn right, and you better start believing it."

aaron took a deep breath, pressing his lips to yours. "with you around, i will. thank you, i love you."

you returned the kiss, giving his chest an affectionate pat. "c'mon, let's rejoin your party."

you started exiting the kitchen, but aaron stayed put. when you looked back, another melancholy expression painted his face, and standing there, he almost looked younger for a moment.

"babe?"

"it is nice. not feeling like a drill sergeant for once."

your lips tipped into a smile as he moved closer, brushing your hands along his torso as soon as he was in reach. "they love you."

one of his rare, small but charming smiles adorned his face, brown eyes aglow. "i know."

"i love you."

aaron grabbed one of your hands, allowing you to lead him back to his party.

"i know."

[alchemistc]

(dys)functional | bucktommy 1/1

an: the hockey au keeps growing, have some tommy whump in the meantime

read on ao3

"Hey," Tommy says, rolling the word over his tongue, letting the door close behind him and leaning his head back against it as it goes. Evan glances up, and immediately sets the knife in his hands down, expression going concerned the moment he sees the look on Tommy's face.

"Uh wha - what's wrong?"

The concern in his voice is ratcheted up in a way Tommy doesn't quite understand - he knows the look on his face is a little resigned but Evan looks stressed. "I'm gonna have to reschedule our weekend," he tells him, already shifting away from the door, moving in, chasing after the distressed little tilt of Evan's head, completely incapable of not trying to fix it even though his mind is going in about fifty different directions, right now.

Around the corner of the island, into Evan's space, and Evan melts just enough for Tommy to get his hands around Evan's hips. "Is everything okay?"

Tommy grimaces. "Not - not really, no. I've got to catch a flight in about six hours."

Evan goes stiff under his hands. "O-okay."

There's an art to fully grasping his tone, in these moments. He's - not an easy read, exactly, because his default seems to always be doing a terrible job of hiding whatever it is he's feeling, but that doesn't actually mean he's not masking the actual issue. It's confusion, mostly, maybe a little bit of hurt, a quiet sense of foreboding in his expression as he leans back to get a good look at Tommy's face, like he's searching for an answer for a question he doesn't know if he's allowed to ask.

Evan shifts impatiently, stormy expression clearing up. "Can - do you need to -" He makes a face Tommy knows is aimed at himself, a little recrimination for not being able to gather up the proper words in the proper order. He pulls in a deep breath. "Okay, so this is maybe too much to throw at you right now but those are kinda famous last words for me and I'm - will you tell me why so I'm not thinking up worst case scenarios here?"

Tommy slides in, fingers curling into the hem of Evan's shirt, gripping, tugging just enough that they both drift into one another. "It's my father." Brow furrowed, Evan nods, and waits, still rigid in the circle of Tommy's arms. And Tommy really does have to leave, soon, pack an overnight bag and try to get a couple hours of sleep before the slog to John Wayne, but he's a little concerned that leaving right now is going to send Evan into a tailspin. Thank God he'd decided to drive over first, tell him in person - he's missing a heap of context here but clearly a phone call would have been the wrong move. "He's - I have to..."

Evan knows the basics, bare minimum shit because Tommy hates acknowledging how much his father had fucked him up, how many years of therapy have been required to untangle the dad shaped knots in his brain.

"I don't really have all the details, yet, but my uncle called and I - I'm needed, apparently. I don't." Tommy has felt wrong-footed since the moment the name flashed across his phone screen, he doesn't talk to them, to any of them, and now his uncle has given him a vague 'Tom you need to come home, it's your pop' and his sister isn't answering her messages. Tommy takes a breath, realizes his hands have tightened into fists in the seams of Evan's shirt. "What do you mean famous last words?"

Evan is studying him carefully, elbows bowed behind him because he's got his palms curled around Tommy's fists, eyes shifting over Tommy's face, and Tommy knows he's seeing the shit Tommy likes to keep under lock and key. "It - it can wait. Tommy, do you need me to come with you?" Head tilted, gaze assessing, fingers shifting, soothing over the stretched tight skin of Tommy's knuckles.

It's too soon for that. He doesn't want Evan to see that part of him, the piece of the puzzle that Tommy has had to chip at, and shave and sand down to make fit, that ugly little part of his life he'd shed the day he'd set his house key on the dining room table and left for boot camp.

It's not too soon - he doesn't want Evan to ever see that.

He's also suddenly incredibly aware of how nice it would be to finally, finally have someone he knows is in his corner for whatever bullshit he's ten hours away from walking into. His grip loosens and Evan seizes the opportunity, awkwardly lacing his fingers through Tommy's. It's a weird angle, uncomfortable with the current positioning of their arms, but it feels a bit like a lifeline. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not. I'm offering."

There's a stubborn part of him that doesn't want to accept. He's kept his life out here so separate; even Sal, who'd kept all his other secrets for going on a decade, barely knows shit about his family. He has a good life, rich and fulfilling. Out here. He's got Evan, who'd do practically anything for his friends, his family. Tommy can't justify subjecting him to whatever garbage the Kinard's have going on three thousand miles across the country.

Evan tugs at his hands, shifting his weight enough to send Tommy stumbling half a step into him. Toe to toe, gazes catching again, because Evan is seeking him out, Tommy feels some of the weight lift off his shoulders.

"Okay."

It gives him the excuse of leaving as soon as possible, once he gets there, at the very least.

Evan nods. Whatever weird tension he'd been carrying ebbs from his shoulders and Tommy puts a pin in that - he's spiraling and upset but for a second Evan had been, too, and he needs to circle back to that when he can think straight.

He's got his phone out, free hand digging into Tommy's front pocket, and Tommy blinks, tries to think of something clever to say, something flirty and wry. They were supposed to go out tonight: dinner, maybe dancing, after, if Tommy could convince him. Then a three day stretch of matching days off - a drive up the coast, a little rental within walking distance of a beach, a seafood place that made a lobster roll almost as good as the ones up in Maine. He'd been contemplating whether or not it was too early to bring up Evan's lease.

Evan fishes Tommy's phone out and presses in his passcode without a second thought, and something eases in Tommy's chest. He trusts Evan. Has trusted him, consistently, unquestioningly - he'd given him his passcode on a whim when the screen went dark on it halfway through Evan adding his food to whatever they'd been in the middle of ordering in before Evan got derailed by a story about the anatomy of seahorses.

"Did you already book a flight?"

Tommy nods. Points out the Southwest icon he'd moved to his home screen for easy access.

He doesn't argue when Evan guides him around the island to one of the stools, there, fight and flight both losing out to freeze as Evan takes charge.

It's not their usual dynamic. Evan has been happy to set the pace, but once he takes his cues from him, Tommy's typically the one taking point. But Tommy feels unmoored, and it's nice, actually, to have Evan press a kiss to his temple, to pull up his flight information, to squeeze Tommy's shoulder as he books a second ticket on the credit card Tommy's really only let him use once or twice, happy to be seeing someone who will actually let him pay more than his fair share, who seems flattered that Tommy's always got his wallet out before Evan even thinks to reach for his.

Everything's a bit jumbled. He's halfway to Jersey already, maybe, pulled into the riptide and dashed against the rocks of Richard Kinard's bullshit, he doesn't even know why he's going, just that his uncle had told him he needed to come. He comes up for air feeling battered and bruised when Evan rubs a hand down his shoulder, over his arm, up again with harder pressure as his palm shifts down and over his spine.

Evan's face hovers close to his. "I'm just gonna call Bobby, and then we can pick up something to eat on the way over to your place." The upside to having something already planned is that Evan's already got a bag packed with everything he'll need to travel.

It sounds so simple, so effortless, and Tommy's throat feels tight when he swallows. He gets two fingers into Evan's belt loop before he can pull away, and Evan comes easily, stepping into the spread of Tommy's legs, forehead coming down the few inches to meet Tommy's. "You - thank you."

"Of course," Evan says, a little wry, an echo of Tommy's own favorite phrase whenever Evan gets a little caught up in the way Tommy keeps showing up for him. He gets it, now. It's been instinct, really, to be there when Evan asked, to try his damnedest to make it to the things he's promised to be there for - nothing particularly remarkable about it, in Tommy's mind, but Tommy's starting to see the larger picture. It's grounding, it's comforting, it is actually a little remarkable to be on the receiving end of it. It feels like devotion.

Tommy rolls his forehead, curls a hand up over Evan's shoulder, his neck, fingers catching in his hair, along the curl of his ear. When he blinks and meets Evan's gaze, there's something in his eyes that Tommy isn't sure either one of them is actually ready for, but then, they haven't really stumbled on their way through those things up to this point anyway. Blazed past them, maybe, but always with an understanding of what they mean while they waved at the mile marker blurring past them.

Evan squeezes at Tommy's knee. "I'm not going anywhere," he assures, and Tommy snorts.

"You're literally going to Jersey in, like, five and a half hours."

Evan huffs. "With you. I'm - you're ruining my moment, Tommy," he pouts, and if the both of them dissolve into a fit of giggles, no one has to know but them.

-----

Tommy hasn't been back here in eight years. It's been longer since he's talked to his family - he'd shown up fifteen minutes into his grandmother's funeral, slipped in to a pew at the back during mass and and skipped the wake before he found a bar and made a few bad decisions with a man who'd sat next to him four drinks in and smiled at him like the sun peeking through a billowing stormcap.

Evan presses a tentative hand to the small of Tommy's back and Tommy melts into it, pleased when the hand shifts to curl around his waist. He's apparently already rented a car, and Tommy can't quite hide the heavy sigh of gratitude at the admission - the getaway will be a lot smoother if they don't have to stand outside waiting for a ride.

He's seen Clipboard Buck in action before. The last time, he'd barely managed to get them somewhere private before he was on his knees to express his appreciation of Clipboard Buck. This is - not better, but different in a good way. It makes him feel tethered, reminds him that as crazy as it had been to accept an invitation to a wedding after a spectacular explosion of a first date, he'd been right to follow that spark he'd first felt on the tarmac while Evan Buckley shook his hand for about thirty seconds too long.

"I can help whoever's next," says a voice as Evan shuffles him along the rental line, and Tommy's gaze darts up, his posture sharpening.

Evelyn.

Christ, it's a day for reunions, Tommy guesses. They're next, actually, and Evan tilts his chin with narrowed eyes when Tommy sighs and moves to the counter.

For a second, Tommy's convinced she doesn't recognize him. She pops the gum in her mouth, bored gaze bouncing between them as Evan scrolls through his email for the confirmation number on his booking, and then her eyes go wide.

"Tom? Tom Kinard?"

Evan's eyes shift up. It's a lot more subtle than Tommy'd expected. So is the hand that squeezes at Tommy's hip in question.

Tommy curls his fingers around the hand, squeezes back. He's spent too many years on the other side of the closet door to go crawling back into the dark now.

"Hi Evie."

Tommy hasn't told this story, but he doubts Evan will be particularly surprised by it. He's heard about plenty of Tommy's other beards.

Her gaze shifts. From her spot behind the counter he doubts she's seeing much, but the anchor of Evan's arm around his waist has them sharing space, Tommy's shoulder pressed to Evan's chest, the two of them breathing the same air. Her brow ticks up behind her glasses. She's got a streak of grey along her temple, and the start of crows feet around her eyes.

Evelyn snaps her gum. "You missed the reunion," she notes, and then smiles. "Although I can't blame you if this is what you've got back at home. A large improvement on Jason Ledecky." She leans in. "He's got five kids and a truly tragic bald spot."

Evan's eyes gleam. Tommy realizes he's actually looking forward to telling this story, in the sanctuary of a rented car on the way to his uncles. Evelyn Carinni had been a godsend for a Tommy who'd shot up four inches and slimmed down over the summer after junior year -- she'd scooped him right up that first day of school when it became clear that a suddenly sharp jawline was all it took to garner the attention of the female population of Cliffside Park High, and the first time she'd whipped out her tits and seen the disinterested look on his face she'd made it her mission to make sure he made it through senior year undetected.

"You here about the will?"

Tommy pauses. "What will?"

Her eyeroll is exactly as disparaging as he remembers. "Christ, your family is a piece of work. According to Tina, who heard it from Daryl, Old Man Gio apparently had an updated will your dad tried to hide. There's been a whole lawsuit about getting it recognized."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?"

"Well, I imagine dear old granddad had a nice little end-of-life realization that the only descendant he had who didn't want any of his money was you, so as a last fuck you to all his ungrateful kids he left it all to you."

"There's no way any of that money hasn't been spent already." Not to mention he has no interest in some long drawn out court case where all his extended family has to admit they have no way to pay it back.

Evelyn hums. "A lot of it's been tied up for years. Plus there's the royalties his estate is still getting."

Tommy sighs. "My uncle made it seem like it was more serious than that."

"Is there anything more serious to them than who gets the lions share of daddy's money?" At Tommy's raised brow, she shakes her head. "Anyway, your pop might be looking at jail time, so there's always a possibility they're looking for preemptive bail money."

If he lets them, he'll tie up Evelyn for hours, standing here gossiping like teenagers. "We should have a reservation," Tommy tells her, before things get really off the rails, and they go through the motions of pulling up Evan's information. Evelyn pops her gum again.

"What a shame," she says, brow raised and eyes focused on Evan. "We promised you we had plenty of inventory in basic economy but it looks like those are all off the lot." Tommy watches Evan frown, eyes darting to the prices detailed behind her. Neither one of them is overly concerned about their savings account, at the moment, but Evan isn't fond of surprise price increases. He'd complained for a week the last time avocados had gone up thirty cents. "Looks like I'll just have to upgrade you free of charge, Mr. Buckley."

The clerk to her left shoots her an exasperated look and leaves it at that, but something happens in Evan's expression, the realization rolling over him that he's been included in some subterfuge. "Oh, well, if you have to," he says, but he's leaning his free arm against the counter now, posture open, happy to be included in this little bubble with someone who has loved and cared for Tommy. He knows the feeling -- knows how he'd had to take a deep breath at Chimney's bachelor party, when Eddie had glanced between them and implied that Evan inviting him to the karaoke bar was a date, remembers the way he'd had to dig his fingers into his thigh in the pocket of his pants to keep from being weird about how nice it was to laugh with Maddie Buckley-Han.

Evelyn chuckles, and smacks her gum, and the keys under her fingers clack away for a moment before she spins in her chair and marches off to grab something from the printer, and Evan hip checks Tommy with just enough force that Tommy sways, maybe a little overcome in the same way Tommy always is when Evan's friends, his family make it clear they like having Tommy around. He grins, and Tommy returns it, the edges of his smile bleeding into his cheeks.

Evelyn returns with contract for a sports car. "I waived the deposit fee," she intones. "For the inconvenience, sir."

Evan looks delighted as he signs off and Evelyn splits their copies. The sticky note affixed to Evan's copy has a phone number with a Jersey area code written on it, and she taps it.

"When you find out you're insanely rich and finally cut off the rest of your family completely, you two should take me out for coffee."

Evan isn't so caught up that he doesn't check in with Tommy first. It's not entirely necessary --he likes Evelyn, and Evan can clearly tell that -- but it's nice, all the same.

"How about a steak dinner," Tommy negotiates, and Evelyn's grin goes wide.

-----

As it turns out, Grandpa Gio was a petty little bastard with a penchant for dramatics, and according to a court of law his aunts and uncles (and father) owe him close to two million dollars, between them.

"I don't want it," Tommy confesses, laid out on the hotel bed that night, still too loose-limbed to move as Evan putters around in the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and brushing his teeth.

Evan looms over him a moment later, warm towel running over the ridges of Tommy's stomach, the rise of his pectorals. Christ, he'd shot off like a goddamn missile. Evan bites his lip to hide a grin when the towel catches on the underside of Tommy's chin.

"I'm assuming you're talking about the money," Evan says, folding the towel over itself to give him one last rubdown. "It seemed like you liked the sex."

Tommy shifts, tugging at Evan's wrist until he settles in beside Tommy. With the remains of his energy, he slings a leg over Evan's and rolls himself into the cradle of Evan's embrace. "That was never a question."

Evan maintains the silence for a grand total of thirty-seven seconds. It's longer than Tommy had expected. "So your family." Tommy hums, already tracing the edges of the tattoo on Evan's forearm. "Kind of dicks."

The snort of laughter settles into Evan's still-sweaty temples, and Tommy shifts to press his nose into the damp curls there. He'd been so hesitant to share this part of himself with Evan, but as always, Evan had forged on ahead like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than provide the landing spot for Tommy to settle down his gear once the storm passed.

"Took me twenty years and a boatload of therapy to train that out of me. I'm still --." Tommy pauses, the usual self-deprecating comment stuck on the tip of his tongue, because for once, it doesn't feel like an effort to be nothing like them. He'd spent so long hiding in the shadow of the asshole his family had taught him how to be, and dragging himself out into the sunlight always felt like a struggle.

But it hadn't felt like an effort, really -- to hold Evan's hand under the judgemental gaze of ten cousins and four aunts and uncles, to stand tall and stick to the barest edges of polite while the room erupted into chaos the moment his father opened his mouth to defend himself, to excuse himself and tuck his arm over Evan's shoulder on the way out the door.

He can still remember the dazed way Evan had responded to that first kiss, while Tommy busied himself tugging the hem of his shirt back down, too nervous to look at him while he asked him out. The way he'd looked, when Tommy'd been brave enough to glance up, eyes a little glazed, mouth still open, and told him he was free.

At the time, Tommy'd been furiously convincing himself not to lean in for another kiss, fully aware he'd make himself late to work if he allowed himself another taste, but the memory had lingered the rest of the shift. In the days after, once he'd had a clearer picture of exactly how wide he'd just blown open Evan's world, he'd thought of it often.

I am free.

Tommy turns his face to meet Evan's gaze, nose dragging across his cheek, lips aching to find a home against Evan's again, but he catches his eyes first, slides a hand up over Evan's arm, shoulder, neck, until he can curl his fingers over his jaw, thumb tucking in to the little dimple as Evan grins at him. "Thank you for coming."

Evan sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, tongue darting out to wet the top one, a mischievous gleam in his eye, but he lets the dumb joke go, gaze shifting into something more serious as he drums his fingers along Tommy's bare hip. "Thanks for letting me," Evan murmurs back, and Tommy knows they need to talk about that sentiment in more detail, but for now he'd rather roll Evan on top of him and slide his tongue past the seam of Evan's lips.

Evan doesn't seem to have any complaints.

[hkthatgffan]

Hey! You seem like a huge *Gravity Falls* fan, so I was hoping you could answer some of my biggest questions about morality in the show. Since the release of *The Book of Bill* (which I’ve read), do you think Bill could ever be redeemed or seen sympathetically? Is there a possibility for him to get better and maybe even have a happy ending?

I ask this because I see a lot of fans saying, "He's awful," or "He deserves everything coming to him a thousandfold," and "Don't sympathize with him!" But then I watch the show, and I see characters like Gideon Gleeful and Robbie who were also problematic—they did terrible things but still got happy endings.

I know Gideon went to jail, but he broke out and ultimately had a positive resolution. Robbie, for example, tried to brainwash Wendy into a romantic relationship (which is super messed up!). Even though it didn’t work, and Wendy only dated him because she thought he wrote her that song, Robbie knew what the CD was supposed to do. But instead of facing real consequences, he just went through a breakup and still ended up with a happy ending, with friends and a new girlfriend.

As for Gideon, he tried to kill Dipper, manipulate Mabel, and invade the entire town’s privacy—basically doing some of the same things Bill did. Yet, after going to jail and making a last-minute turn toward good, he still got a happy ending.

So I’m super confused. What should I be feeling? Is there a correct way to view these characters? What do you think?

Bill at his core is the personification of denial. We see in the book that the harbours some regret and hatred for what he's done to the people around him but he refuses to try and take it to heart and use it as a point to grow from. I mean, look at what he did.

He killed his entire dimension and family and yet tries to deny it was anything bad and that in fact he liberated them. He manipulated and almost destroyed Ford and yet denies ruining the friendship they had. He tried to kill Dipper and Mabel and yet acts like it was nothing. Bill is unsympathetic. He's a narcissistic sociopath who doesn't wanna admit it.

The difference with Robbie and Gideon is that they changed and grew past their issues. Robbie tbh was more so being a literal teen drama story while Gideon was made that way through his exposure to Journal 2 and how that corrupted him. Once both found a new lease on life, they were able to grow and become better.

Bill is not that. He cannot accept that he's not fine and that he's the sole survivor of his kind and has pushed everyone he knew out of his life through his own actions. We've all probably dealt with people like Bill Cipher. Be it a person, co-worker, significant other, friend, family member, etc. We've all had that person who acts full of themselves and manipulatively but in reality is suffering. But because of how they act and their refusal to do anything, you start to lose any sympathy or interest in helping or being there and just let them go. Congrats...you just escaped a toxic relationship.

As someone who has dealt with Bill Ciphers in my life like many of us probably have, it's easy to feel sympathy for him. Bill make his case out as such that you wanna feel like he deserves better. But he's a trillion year old being that has been doing the same thing over and over again and refuses to make an effort to move on and let himself accept what he did to his dimension and to people around him like Ford.

Ford on the other hand realized that and cut Bill out of his life. He's doing better now because of that and has his family by his side. Ford is an example of how to move on from such toxic situations and people and find happiness in your life again after that. Bill is the example of what happens if you can't.

Life is short. We all will die one day. We all deserve to lead a life free of people like Bill Cipher in it. The best thing we can do is follow Ford and find the people in life that make us happy and let go of Bill.

So, to answer your question, NO!

I don't think Bill Cipher can be redeemed or seen in a sympathetic way. He tried to. But he's shown even in the Theraprism that he can't. He's doomed to live forever with the shit he's done. And it's his own fault.

Bill can say he's fine but in the end...he's not. And he never will be. There is no redemption for Bill Cipher.

[2kyo7]

♱ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘 ♱ | SOLEIL

pairing ; adrian tepes , trevor belmont , sypha belnades x female reader

ཐི ➥ summary ; As the world begins to pay the toll of Dracula's rage, four unlikely heroes must band together and defeat him--no matter the price.

warnings ; swearing

notes ; hopefully the dialogue reads accurate to how the characters actually talk in the series😓😓. Lmk what u guys think!!

ONCE LEAVING ALUCARD's TOMB Sypha wished her people many sorrowful goodbyes, watching for the first time as they traveled somewhere she could not. Soon they themselves would too depart from Gresit and in turn leave for west where their destination rested in between the territories of both OTTOMAN and MOLDAVIA.

Admittedly the journey was...unfavorable to say the least, paths were thick with snow and ice—turning their fires into signals for enemies which hid in the cover of night. Conversation was admirable, but only when Trevor and Alucard were not knee deep in conflict (which happened more often than not).

After yet another disagreement, Sypha attempted to lighten the atmosphere with questions. "Soooo Savior, how exactly do you know of this true blood? And how are you so sure they'll help us?" He released a drawn sigh and look towards the pile of burning wood before him, "we aren't exactly going to meet just one pure blooded vampire—this is a family of them."

Trevor was quick to sit up in protest, but Alucard held out a hand, almost pleading with the man to stay silent for just a moment. "They are family friends... or once were, before my father had a falling out with the family's head." His face became tense with focus as if it was painful to recall such years ago. "The fight wasn't anything extravagant or gruesome—pure bloods' consider themselves above such 'unnecessary brutality' in their words, but we've never spoken another word to each other since."

Alucard clenched his fist in frustration, to keep himself from saying the unthinkable. "Anyhow, they won't slaughter us when we step onto their doorstep if that's what you're thinking, by the time we get there they'll probably be full off lunch." Sypha huffed before crossing one arm over the other.

"You never answered my second question, are you so sure they'll help us—pure blooded vampires are still vampires nonetheless." Alucard placed a hand between his brows where a wrinkle formed, "I'm not."

"Oh bloody Christ almighty!" Trevor held quiet for long as he knew how, now standing from his icy snow bed he threw his arms high in the air. "We're out here in fucking god knows where about to walk into the god forbidden den of an apex predator! JUST MY LUCK!" Alucard scoffed at what he could only describe as a tantrum, "we need a true blood Belmont, whether you soil over yourself at the thought or not. Now as I've said, it's possible they'll refuse to join us, but in any case they won't kill us. That I'm sure enough of."

"Trevor you quite literally kill vampires for a living, how much different can these pure bloods be?" Sypha shrugged her shoulders in confusion, not exactly exhilarated by the idea of the human race depending on the choice of a single unworldly being. "Oh! I don't know speaker, maybe because they're a 100 times faster, stronger, not to mention smarter then your average run-of-the-mill vamps."

"Like I've said time again, there will be no fight."

"Sure, because we'll already be maggot food before we can get a single word out."

And here they go again, Sypha watched them bicker like children over the last slice of bread—how much longer will she have to put up with this? The more they fought, the angrier she became until eventually water appeared from thin air to slightly soak the two. "What in heaven's name?"—"What the hell!" They shout in union, "Enough! Both of you! We have a long journey ahead and none of your childish yelling will get us there any quicker."

With that concluded the conversation for the night's entirety, Sypha slept soundly knowing there wouldn't be any interrupting noise while Trevor nearly froze to death, his lifeline, the glowing fire in front of him. Though Alucard had his fill on slumber, this wouldn't be of any use as he too clung tight to any of the warmth provided to him that unfortunate night.

After nearly a week of tireless walking during the day while constantly having to fight off hoards of unearthly creatures at night, the trip was proving quite testing. But there efforts were not in vain, finally they'd made it, relishing in their success as a great wooden sign nailed neatly onto high gates read: Welcome to LAVATRIS—population 4,500.

Before they even attempted to make their presence known a man rose from above the gate's entrance, his appearance was a bit disheveled, he had been dressed much too casually to be an official guard of any sort. "State your names and business with Lavatris." His voice was monotone, like he was bored beyond comparison. The three of them looked around to another for a moment, "Ahem. We are stopping by for some shelter...we've been walking for a many days and are terribly exhausted."

The guard stared down upon them with a look of doubt, but prying any further might've killed him. So with a wave of his hand the gates rumbled loudly against ground flooring, opening up just enough for the three of them to pass. "Don't cause any trouble or we'll kill you—blah blah blah." Once entering the gate began to close just as soon as it opened, "that was odd..to say the least."

"Didn't even matter what we woulda said to the fucker, what kind of security is that? I'll be surprised if this town wasn't a complete sh—" Trevor's assumptions had been cut short at the sight of the city. It's streets were bustling and busy, everywhere you looked had been a different story. People were smiling, playing, loving, exactly opposite of what they'd grown accustomed to in Gresit.

Walking along the streets they were in awe, music played on every corner, new smells of delicious foods anytime you turned, it's almost like they had been disconnected from what went on in the outside world. "The city's always been like this," Alucard spoke, a small grin protruding on his face. "These people have been protected by vampire royalty for generations, and in turn they are food pens."

"Tch like a dog on a leash." Trevor said through muffled anger, hands knee deep in his pockets as he looked around with disgust. "No like a fair trade. True bloods value status, and this proves it—having their meals ready to eat whenever they need, without the hunt? That's lavish living for any vampire." Alucard once again contradicts Trevor's statements with venom on his tongue.

"So these pure bloods don't hunt at all?" Sypha inquired, the happy aura becoming almost contagious as she too found herself smiling. "Not in this city, they travel to surrounding areas if they’re feeling extra peckish."'

Deeper they traverse into the city of Lavatris each part being as lively as the rest. "For heaven's sake I need a drink." Trevor dashed towards the ale vendor, slamming down about three gold coins onto the wooden surface below. "Can't you wait a moment's more? Their home is just through this passing."

"Alucard's right Trevor," she snatched the currency in her hands before the vendor could collect, sending them an apologetic look. "The fate of humanity is resting on our shoulders, and all you can think of is a drink?"

He groaned, appearing as if he would combust at any moment now, mumbling beneath his breath: "At the very least wanted a cold one before I died."

They would begin to walk up a steep hill overrun with large trees the size of mountains that have long since lost their coverage caused by the unforgiving winter season. As they continue to march forwards, a dark grand castle begun to shown through, easily seen in deep contrast with the bright evening sky and nature's frosty white blanket. Breathtaking was one word to describe it upon many others.

When approaching, they were met by two towering iron doors that appeared almost implausible to push open on their own intent. Alucard stood in between both Sypha and Trevor, stepping up further than either of his comrades, knuckles raised and ready for impact. "Before we enter, both of you must remember. True bloods aren't like regular vampires, they are not driven by the need for food or power. Instead pleasure and entertainment."

"Just open the godforsaken door." Trevor began to stretch past Alucard, but before he could make contact the doors slowly unfurl revealing only unending darkness inside, ancient gears turned from within while the density of the doors weighted against the marble floors.

Everyone looked to each other, a silent uncertainty weighing heavy on their minds. Alucard was first to ascend further, the others following soon after, and once everyone had gathered entirely inside—the doors swiftly closed shut, a loud BANG promptly following suit—trapping them helplessly inside.

"WHO DARES ENTER MY FORTRESS!"

[sweetestlamb]

The Art of Realization

Summary: A quiet moment between two beings that shouldn't be.

It's impossible to focus with him sitting too close, so close that the heat of his body encroaches on her personal space and honestly she should kick him out because that damn organ in her chest keeps pounding, but every time she looks over at him she just can't.

Can't say anything that will wipe that soft amused smile off his face.

He'd put on some comedy show for them to watch, walking man or something and every few seconds the ring of his laughter would fill the room and knock all thoughts from her head.

Something was wrong with her and he was at the core of the problem thus she needed to stay away from him until this... sickness passed. But she couldn't because every time she imagined her life without him everything hurt and her chest felt like someone had poured fired directly into the cavity.

She was a demon, a powerful at that and she of all people shouldn't be getting attached to a weak useless human but here she was worried about hurting Daon's feelings.

She screamed in frustration, suddenly pulling her hair and flopped back onto the couch.

"What's wrong with you? Are demons not allowed to watch comedy shows? Should I turn it off?"

His questions are so stupid that she just screams some more instead of answering him.

"Will you stop that, what are you a fish? Stop flopping around!" He yells at her but she can hear the amusement loud as a gong in his voice and she immediately becomes irritated. How dare he laugh at her frustration? Others had died at her hands for lesser offenses.

"Are you laughing at me? Do you want to die?"

Of course she knows that she's being a hypocrite especially after protecting him so many times but she still has a reputation to uphold, damn it.

"Not yet. We still have a lot to do before you can kill me."

And there it goes again.

She clutches her chest in agony at the very thought of hurting him. It hadn't been long ago that she had thrust her knife into his flesh and watched him bleed out without empathy or care but now she was devastated at the image.

She folds in half begging her heart to stop this nonsense.

"What's going on with you?" He shifts even closer, hand reaching out and she instinctively moves away from him, aware he's the only human who has this much power over her.

"Don't touch me!" She tries to command but the fear in her voice makes it sound like plea.

He freezes at her frantic voice, hand hovering before he lowers it onto his own knee.

"Leave. I'm not feeling well." She declares before running away to her room. As she slams the door behind her she feels like a coward, running away from a mere human. She, who should fear no one. She, who is one of hell's strongest warriors has been reduced to this. It's pathetic. She needs to return before it's too late and this disgusting humanity spreads.

She takes a few deep breaths pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool smooth wood of her door.

He's gone at least for tonight and she doesn't need to confront whatever is going on.

Seconds pass like molasses and when she hears no movement or sound, she finally opens the door intending to watch dramas until she falls asleep refusing to let herself think about him.

"Are you done with your little meltdown?"

He's right in front of her door, his face devoid of any emotion and she almost slams the door in his face but he's too quick for her.

She's still stronger than him but she doesn't want to hurt him so she doesn't use her full strength and she knows the he knows this is the case from the quirk of his eyebrow.

"Shut up." She demands harshly pushing him in the chest.

"Ow. I didn't say anything."

"Your stupid face said enough."

"Stupid huh? You called it handsome last time. Has it changed that much since then?"

She gapes at him in shock.

"When did I ever say that?"

"Oh you don't remember? When you were touching my lips and--"

"Shut up!"

He mimes zipping his lips but that has the adverse effect of making her look at them. Those beautiful full lips that she shouldn't be so tempted by. Demons didn't kiss, some had sex but she had never been interested in anything like that. She would never make herself so vulnerable in front of anyone.

But she had already done that with him.

Cried in front of him.

Cried because of him.

It was unacceptable but she couldn't stop doing it, couldn't get her heart to stop breaking when his broke in front of her.

"There's that look again."

She swiftly looks away but it's not fast enough.

He cups her cheeks drifting her eyes back onto his own.

"That look. You look like your heart is breaking."

He sees right through her and she hates it, hates him and what he's done to her, she's Justitia the third most powerful demon but in front of him none of that even matters.

"I'm a demon. I don't have a heart."

"Then why do you look like you're going to cry?"

As if waiting for his permission, a tear slips down her cheek and then another and another until they are falling in a rapid stream.

"Stop crying in front of me. Do you know what it does to me?" He pleads wiping her tears away with one huge thumb and then his own eyes pool with tears as they stare at each other.

She shouldn't ask how her tears affect him. Because she shouldn't care about him or anyone.

"What does it do?" Her lips defy her brain.

"It makes me want to burn the world at your feet, to do any and everything to make you stop. It makes me want to do things I know I shouldn't, things that humans and demons can never do."

Her eyes widen in surprise but that isn't the only emotion fueling her thoughts, she feels blood rushing to her head and her face starts to heat up as well.

"Are you blushing?" He questions in awe.

And she opens her lips to respond but he beats her to it, "Beautiful. You're beautiful."

She raises her hands to push him away but his skin is so warm and his chest is harder than she expected and before she can control herself, her hands begin to cautiously explore him. As her palms drift from his abdomen to his shoulder she see his Adam's apple bob in anticipation.

The hands on her cheek shift until one is cupped around her neck and the other tightens on her waist, tugging her closed until they are chest to chest and she has to look up to meet his dark eyes.

"We shouldn't."

She begs but he barely reacts to her words, staring at her like a man starved.

They both know that she can stop this at any moment and he waits to see if she will run away again.

He licks his lips and that's all it takes to break her resolve.

She thrusts her head forward powerfully until their lips meet in a hard clash, she even hears a muffled groan of pain. She uses her strength to tug him down and press her mouth even harder into his, it hurts a little but this is how she's seen them kiss in all the dramas she's watched so she presses on.

"Wait--"

He speaks in between their lips and she starts to retreat, realizing what exactly she's doing and with who.

"We're not stopping. Just... softer. Like this." He leans in again and presses his lips against hers delicately like she's something precious. Every time she tries to increase the intensity he moves away before returning with another air soft kiss, it's driving her crazy but she can't deny it's efficiency. It makes her hungry for more.

"Isn't that better? This doesn't need to be a battle."

Oh. But that's all she's ever known. All she's good for. He should know that.

"Don't think. Just feel me."

"Okay. If you want my full attention, then you need to do something to get it."

She's bluffing of course, his swollen red lips, rising chest and flushed face have her full attention already. Her thoughts are nothing but Han Daon.

But he accepts the challenge as usual never backing down from her.

He leans close again, dragging a thumb to her jaw and then pulling down and she lets her mouth fall open in curiosity and confusion wondering where this is going.

His eyes darken even more and she has no idea the image she makes standing before him with her eyes filled with emotions and mouth obediently agape.

She only has a second to catch her breath before he's diving in and pressing his mouth against hers but this time it's different, it's wet and searing hot. His tongue is doing things that she's never known about. Dancing with her own in a dance that's too sinful for someone like him. She starts to lose her head with him pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth.

She feels like she's being eaten alive. Devoured.

Desperate to regain some semblance of control she moves them backwards until she has him pressed against the wall. She's never kissed before but she's a fast learner and she's eager to taste him in return.

Using her superior strength she shoves him up against the wall and pries his mouth open so she can fill her taste buds with a flavor that is distinctly him. Her heart is pounding in her chest but she can't stop, one taste and she's already addicted.

But she can feel him smiling into their kiss and she pulls away to glare at him.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I've never had a woman manhandle me like this."

"Well I'm not a woman really. But do you feel weak? Does it bother you that I'm stronger?"

He shrugs easily shaking his head.

"No. It's kinda hot."

"Idiot. You think everything I do is hot."

He doesn't deny it. Instead he drags his large hand down her waist to briefly cup her ass before blushing and moving it away.

"Did you just grope me?" She demands glaring up at him harder even as her cheeks burn and something between her legs tingles.

"Um...no?"

But she can still feel the sensation of his hand on her rear.

"Who knew you were such a pervert?"

He blushes harder, "Well you were right. I've never had a pretty girl take care of me before."

And possessiveness flares in her chest. She likes that he's never done this before with anyone else. And now he never will with anyone else unless they want to burn for all eternity in hell.

Mine.

She shouldn't be having thoughts like that. But she can't stop herself from thinking it.

So she does she does best, deflect.

"What's this? Are you that happy to touch a woman's ass? Did it get you that excited?" She teases dragging one finger up the inseam of his pants, right next to the pronounced tent forming in front.

He wriggles but doesn't move away like she expected, freaking brat.

"Are you that happy to touch me there? Have you ever seen a human.... naked?"

She blushes brightly, pulling her hand away as if she's been burned.

"You pervert!"

He chuckles at her indignation, shifting to tuck himself away.

"And you're a tease. An adorable innocent tease."

"I'm not innocent, I'm a demon."

"Yeah but you're a demon who's never seen a dic--"

And before he can finish his sentence she hits him with a pillow causing him to fall onto the couch.

And maybe later tonight when she's alone what she's done will terrify her beyond belief but right now she can only think about this beautiful human who has broken down all her walls.

She wants to stay with him.

She wants Han Daon.

Fuck.

[just-space-055]

GUYS DROP EVERYTHING SAMPO EVENT DAY 7 IS HERE!! Cannot wait to talk about this so let's get into it:

SPOILERS FOR DAY 7!!

----

Can't tell if this is because of him being so mysterious all the time or me overanalysing but SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE?? Hmmmmm do you mean the 4th wall maybe?? HMMM???

Of course this could just be simple joke as well. But the way Sampo acts always makes me question his lines... That or i might be crazy-

Now this is our last item

I've tried to translate the blue words around it hoping it might contain something but it seems to just spell out the name of the item, The Manifest Life of Eternally Homing.

As for the two words on the lower left that are sadly being blocked out by the sold out sign, they spell out: Big data

Which makes sense since the description of the item says to "apply the latest big data algorithms to gain insights into your past and present lives"

But for the binary codes in the back, i have no idea if they mean anything or not. I tried using a site to translate it but couldn't get an answer. If anyone manages to find anything i would love to know!

For the interaction here i find it very interesting. One who doesn't know anything about their past and one we don't know anything about their past. And they both have an invalid rating... All the rating and emantor theories aside what Sampo says here is also quite intriguing. If you think about it he is very contradictory himself so this might also be his way of saying no matter how he acts the person beneath it is the same? Hmmm...

----

NO WAY A POSITIVE RESPONSE TO SAMPO?? IMPOSSIBLE.

Jokes aside you betcha i chose the nice one and here is what he says next if you haven't; in which case why would you to that to dear old Sampo :(

Have no idea what he says to the other option tho so if you do feel free to write it in the comments!

----

Maybe this is the exact reason he does his scams as well, for the funny tales?

Hey hey hey Sampo what do you mean by hot-blooded past? SAMPO? HEY?? NO IT IS NOT POINTLESS TO TALK ABOUT COME BACK HERE-

SAMPOOOOOOO

GUYS. HE SANG THE KALEVALA POEM. THE LINES ARE THE EXACT SAME. IT IS CANON. I HOPED FOR THESE DAYS. I AM GOING INSANE.

----

That event was SOMETHING. Now i am really curious about how much of that poem is canon to our story. This opens up the path to SO many possibilities and theories. One question that i wonder the most is who is our Ilmarinen?..

I can't wait to read all the crazy theories after this. Heck i might even write my own as well (once my exam week has passed) This event will feed us for the rest of the year. BUT I ALSO ALREADY MISS HIM :(

To finish it off here is a picture i took before he disappered (To those who have not played day 7 yet beware because he VANISHES after this talk so if you wanna take a picture don't forget to take one before he doing day 7!)

~~~~♡~~~~♡~~~~♡~~~~

[itadores]

note: vaguely inspired by the line “i don't smile for the camera / only smile for you” from the song attention by joji

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader

tags: gender neutral reader, actor au, secret & established relationship

throughout his years in the industry, nanami kento has cultivated a reputation for himself as an undeniably and exceptionally talented yet serious actor. nobody would ever dare to say nanami kento is unkind because it would be untrue, but there's a certain boundary that nanami draws between himself and the rest of the world. he's careful to separate his work life from his personal life, leaving very few privy to the inner-workings of the latter.

to the public, nanami's private life is a complete and utter mystery. nanami has almost no social media presence. he only posts on social media and makes public appearances when necessary for the promotion of the films he stars in. during taped or red-carpet interviews, nanami skillfully navigates questions that try and glean any information related to his private life. he manages to provide answers that are seemingly adequate, but don't reveal anything about what he wishes to keep private. his fans lament how he's so pr-trained.

by now, most interviewers are well aware of nanami's reputation as a remarkably accomplished but intensely private actor. most have given up prying into his private life since they're unable to obtain anything of substance form the actor, but some still try their hand from time to time.

during the press tour for his latest film, one of the interviewers ask nanami if he's seeing anyone. it's a question that the interviewer excepts the answer to be a resounding no. after all, that's how nanami has always answered this question. the interviewer already has their next question prepared, but they're utterly astounded when the corners of nanami's lips curl into a small nearly imperceptible smile and he simply says "that's private." the interviewer is stunned silent and stutters through their next question when they're met with nanami's expectant glance.

when the interview is later posted online, nanami's fans go wild with his reaction and his response. they've never seen their beloved actor make such a soft expression before. and they've never known nanami to not respond no to the question. trust that a portion of his fanbase scoured the internet for every single instance that this particular question has been posed to nanami in the past, analyzing his various answers. each and every time, it was some variation of no. instantaneously, rumors abound, speculating who nanami's mystery partner could possibly be.

you're completely enthralled as you scroll through the many theories nanami's fans have come up with. a fan so thoroughly convinced that nanami and gojo are together that they've made an entire series to plead their case draws an exceptionally loud laugh from you. it's incredibly entertaining to read about the theories and rumors and speculation surrounding nanami's love life when you know the truth.

the distinctive sound of your front door unlocking compels you to pause your endless scrolling and put your phone down. you pad over to the entrance area and lean against the wall as you admire the man standing in your doorway.

"welcome home, kento," you greet.

a soft smile forms on nanami's lips. it's bigger than the small one he shared during the interview. it's one that's reserved only for you.

"i'm home."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you think it's okay for me to write for TWST even though I don't play the game?

Personally, I don’t think anyone ever “needs” to play a game in order to enjoy it and create for it. Sometimes you can just observe art from a distance and appreciate it, or you like hearing about how it brings joy to people you know. Maybe you like the aesthetic of it but can’t really see yourself getting heavily involved with it. Perhaps you don’t like gacha games so you can’t be motivated to engage with the mechanics. There are many possible avenues.

In the case of a game like Twisted Wonderland, there may be accessibility reasons why you don’t play since the game is only in English and Japanese—and even then, maybe your country doesn’t have a server to host it. In fact, I know there are many people who are TWST fans yet only read translations or watch videos about it without having played the game themselves. Maybe they found the manga or the light novel first. Whenever the anime comes out, people might discover TWST through that. We have to consider these aspects and be more open-minded about what constitutes as a “fan” rather than gatekeeping the label of “fan” to only those who play tie game for no discernible reason. What defines someone as a fan or not isn’t the labels other people put on you—you are the one that decides what you want to label yourself, and whether you are a fan or not.

I believe that also extends to content creation in fandom spaces. No one’s stopping you from making fan art or writing fanfic (or whatever it may be) just because you don’t play the game, and nor should you need anyone’s thumbs-up to do so. When you think that you do, you’re only imposing an arbitrary limit and holding yourself back. You have to be confident in deciding what you want to make without worrying how others might perceive you for it.

Now, that being said 💦 I don’t mean to scold anyone for asking me questions, but I feel that I again need to stress this: I am an internet stranger. My opinion or approval/disapproval shouldn’t hold any more weight than the next person’s. You should not put too much value in the advice of an internet stranger either. You shouldn’t care whether or not I think something is okay for you to do. The only person who can give you “permission” is you!

I understand that maybe people may feel uncertain about themselves or are looking for reassurance from a third party, but I do not feel I am the right place to go to for these kinds of things. Even though I answer in earnest, questions of this nature make me feel like I’m being put on the spot and pressured to provide timely comfort.

I don’t feel comfortable continuously being asked for very personalized advice like this; asks like this push on the boundary and start getting into uncomfortable territory for me. I’m here to talk about Disney anime pretty boys. I’m not here to be a fandom counselor 😅 Does that make sense?

This isn’t the only time I’ve received asks of this nature, nor is it the only time I’ve had to give a public warning about this. Please be mindful and respect the boundaries I have set.

[in1-nutshell]

I'm gonna try again tfp team prime with a bot Buddy who has a concerning interest in poison. 😅 And now i'm beginning to annoy myself

Hello there! Don't worry about asking again, I'm just not well versed in some things that's all. Still glad you asked though! Since you did not specify which characters you wanted I will be selecting them at random.

Hope you enjoy!

Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus reaction to Bot Buddy who is fascinated with poison

SFW, Platonic, talks of poison, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

TFP

Ratchet

Ratchet has known Buddy for a while. As in before the war started, before their interest in poison.

Buddy used to be a good doctor that helped him from time to time in his makeshift clinic. They were always experimenting with new forms of medicine to treat patients. It could have been medicine for a mesh wound to try to find a cure for the rust plague.

It was during the war that they had found an interest in poison.

Ratchet wouldn't see Buddy again until they crash landed on Earth. To say it was a pleasant surprise was an understatement.

"Ratchet? Ratchet is that you my friend?"--Buddy

"Buddy?! By the Allspark it's great to see you online."--Ratchet

"Likewise my friend. Now tell me, what do you need?"--Buddy

"Any help at this point would be nice, truly. "--Ratchet

"Well it's a good thing I brought my kits! Don't worry this war will be over in no time now!"--Buddy

"You still have the kits?! I thought they were destroyed in your lab back on Kimia."--Ratchet

"Kits? Ratchet what are they talking about?"--Bulkhead

"An explanation would be nice."--Arcee

"Buddy has a gift for medicine... And other things..."--Ratchet

"Oh Ratchet you make it sound like a bad thing. To answer your question, my dear Wrecker, I specialize in poisons and venoms of all sorts! Pretty exciting don't you think?"--Buddy

"... I'm just going to be over there..."--Bulkhead

While Ratchet isn't exactly thrilled with the idea of Buddy handling any type of poison, he has to admit that they do get the job done.

Buddy is often seen in their little corner of the base or near the consoles discussing things with Ratchet.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack knew Buddy from the Wrecker's. Like him, Buddy was a former scientist before the war started.

The two of them went together faster than a house on fire. One was never too far from the other, and if they were something was going to explode.

There was a huge explosion the day that the two had gotten separated.

Years later Buddy found a strange signal coming from a planet called Earth. They decided to go and check it out. Who knows if they would find more poisonous things for their kits?

They didn't find any poison yet, but they did find Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack.

"Wheeljack! Bulkhead! Ultra Magnus sir!"--Buddy

"Buddy?--Bulkhead

"Buddy?!"--Magnus

"Buddy!"--Wheeljack

"Wait how do we know if it's the real Buddy? We don't want another Makeshift problem."--Bulkhead

"Makeshift?"--Buddy

"True soldier. From what you told me we need to be on high alert in case this is a Decepticon."--Magnus

"Decepticon?"--Buddy

"It's Buddy I can tell."--Wheeljack

"How?"--Bulkhead

"There is only one bot crazy enough to carry that many kits labeled POISON like it's a collection of rocks."--Wheeljack

"Hey!"--Buddy

After the formal introductions are made, and Buddy gets to know Team Prime, they are once again attached to Wheeljack.

Wheeljack doesn't mind Buddy's fascination with poison. In fact he encourages it. The more Cons they can the better.

Ultra Magnus

Ultra Magnus knew Buddy as a new recruit for the Wrecker's medic.

How in the world they became friends?

Magnus doesn't have the right answer for that. It just happened.

He is well aware of Buddy's poisonous hobbies but he can't say they aren't benefiting from it. There have been multiple times where the Wrecker's would have been killed if not for Buddy's experiments.

Buddy had gotten separated from the Wrecker's during a rather gruesome battle. Magnus pushes his grief deep down so he could focus on leading his group.

Buddy gets reunited with Magnus when they literally crash into the IronWill.

"Identify yourself!"--Magnus

"Magnus? Ultra Magnus! I can tell how good it is to hear your voice my friend!"--Buddy

"Buddy?"--Magnus

"Sure is Commander! Might I say it again, it's good to hear your voice."--Buddy

Magnus gives Buddy the introduction to the team. He makes sure that Buddy doesn't feel isolated or left out. He knows how that feels.

It takes more time for the team to get used to the fact that Magnus has a best friend than Buddy playing around with poison.

[yolli-es]

PiltoverAU!Jinx × Reader 💜

English is not my native language, in most cases I used a translator. I also plan to write something with StarGuardian!Jinx × Reader. SORRY IF THE TEXT LOOKS STRANGE AND STUPID!! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLACE COMMAS! 🙌🏻

On the bridge, Jinx and Vi were taken not by Vander but by one of the enforcers (Grayson? It doesn't matter).

Her name is still Powder, but she decided to choose a "cool" name for herself and became "Jinx"

Due to her haste and carelessness in her work, this quickly became her second name.

Despite the major plot changes, Jinx's passion for inventing weapons hasn't gone away. So now the enforcers have new military technology.

She also graduated from the University of Piltover with honors.

Jinx and Heimerdinger worked together. It all ended with a small explosion, this time unplanned. They just have different views on the future of Piltover.

When Jace created hextech, she made a gun out of it. It was not entirely legal at the time, but her invention was later deemed necessary.

Jinx had long since lost her grudge against Piltover. She remembered little of her life in Zaun.

BUT seeing how everyone in Piltover feared/disdained zaunites made her feel ashamed. And scared.

It was always difficult for her to make new acquaintances; if someone found out about her origins, she would be left alone.

She wouldn't tell anyone that she was actually from Zaun.

Jinx was never seriously traumatized, but she was still afraid of being alone. She's also DAMN jealous; don't play with it.

She was also a little (just a little) crazy.

Jinx still calls her guns funny names. "Pam-Boom" is her favorite.

Jinx is an inventor, but sitting in the workshop all the time is definitely not her thing. She wants and can experience everything herself. For this purpose, she became an enforcer.

Jinx met you when she was running away from the boss because of "too many explosions in Zaun" (she often overdoes it with "negotiations").

You helped her, and now you are friends. That's what Jinx thought.

You quickly resigned yourself to it.

It all started gradually. First she showed you her inventions, then you went to lunch and patrolled together.

You and Jinx also started spending some time together after work.

Jinx seemed funny to you and very sincere.

She even gave you a funny nickname.

But then you became the only one who saw her developments and could go anywhere with her. Even Vi, in some cases, was unable to go to some places with her.

Because you are going with her.

Jinx also can't stop touching you. And now she does it always and everywhere.

It happened so often that you stopped noticing. But your colleagues began to notice the excessive closeness between the two of you.

When there were too many questions for the two of you, you girls realized that you liked each other.

Now not only she want to touch you, but you too.

Now not only she shares her interests and hobbies, but you too.

Now not only did you know Jinx, but she knew you. Or... so you thought that it was so?

You talked a lot about your childhood. And each time, Jinx's body subconsciously contracted. Her childhood was in Zaun, not the most successful.

But she didn't talk about it. She answered all the questions with "I don't remember" and changed the subject. You saw and knew for sure that something was wrong, and she was lying. And yet, you decided to give her time.

And it came. Jinx couldn't keep it inside any longer. She just needed you to know where she came from.

She was shaking, her pupils were dilated, and her breathing was ragged. She was afraid that after this you would leave her. Jinx had never felt such affection for someone before. No one listened to her the way you did, and no one admired her so sincerely. She felt warm next to you.

And when she told you everything, you went to her and hugged her as tightly as you could. All your feelings were put into that hug. You whispered that everything was okay and that you never had any prejudice against Zaun.

She expected anything. Anger, pain, disappointment, disgust. But not acceptance, and certainly not consolation.

It was important to her. Realizing that it doesn't mean anything to you and that you're totally okay with it has made her life easier. Now she shares more often, and it's not always about Zaun.

It's just that now she feels like she can tell you everything.

Now you are in a relationship!

You're lucky you work together. Jinx doesn't have much time for everything.

Don't even think about going on patrols without her. She doesn't want to miss out on all the fun (Jinx just wants all your attention).

She also wants you to invent a new weapon together, but you're not smart enough for that. So you just watch Jinx do everything for you.

Even so, she is happy that you are trying for her.

You've known Vi for a long time, but Jinx insisted on an "official" introduction.

This is how she wants to say that she is serious.

Whenever you tell other people that Jinx is your girlfriend, she glows with happiness. She likes to know that you are not shy around her at all.

Jinx lived with Vi for a long time, but now she could live with you. Fortunately, she has enough money for this (thanks to her genius).

She was the one who suggested it first, and she has already bought you an apartment.

You would never have thought that Jinx could blush so much! When she suggested you live together, she almost fainted from excitement.

Feelings are hard for her

You made Jinx much more confident. When you're around, she can not pretend to be "normal" and she becomes "Jinx", you know?

She really loves you

THANK YOU FOR READING! I am very ashamed because of my English, I hope I wrote it clearly 🥹

[harfanfare]

Unique Kisses: Diasomnia!

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore|| Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

Malleus D. (classic kisses)

“Are you afraid of me?”

It's a question Malleus loves to ask. 

He doesn't get tired of your head movement when you look at him from under your lashes or the way you pout at him. Your answer hasn't changed since the first time he asked you. You don’t think it would ever change. You can’t imagine a situation that would make you fear him.

“No,” you reply, looking into his emerald eyes. These glow with delight, after that one word. “Why do you keep asking this, Malleus?”

A cold wind blows through your hair, and you look at the tree branches moving in the distance. Even from the roof, they seem tall, but they are all surpassed by the moon, which was high in the sky. It shines brightly, giving you and Malleus picturesque shadows.

His hair seems to have silver flashes as he puts a hand to his chin and ponders. 

“It’s very intriguing,” he says, laughing in his low voice. He narrows his eyes smugly and takes a step closer to you. You have to raise your head slightly to continue looking into his eyes. He smiles. “Not many people would dare say that to my face. Or is it just extraordinary bravado or thoughtlessness?”

“You're much harder to be afraid of since I met Gao-gao kun,'' you admit, lowering your gaze. You feel the weight of Malleus' hand gently trailing your hair. “And since you always come to my invitations... You know, you are a nice person. Sometimes old-fashioned, but it’s cool.”

Malleus laughs again.

“If not courage, then it's an enchantment,” he says in such a way that you don’t know if you should explain yourself to him. “Could it be that you have cast some spell on me that I don't know about?”

It is otherwise impossible for you to be so charming.

Yet you stand before him and he wants to keep you by his side. He would not have given you up for anyone else.

His hand find its way to your chin and gently lift your head. You have a full view of Malleus, who is smiling — although, when you think of it now, you had seen him happier and happier more often over the past few months.

You are only partly prepared for the moment when he leans over and kisses you.

…

Malleus hadn't had many opportunities to make friends and much fewer chances to meet potential lovers.

He shouldn't be able to kiss so well.

He is a quick learner. If you asked him how it was that (to his blunt satisfaction) every kiss takes the breath out of you, he would have replied that the secret lays in analysis and observation and that every time he bites your lip is another attempt to reach perfection.

Malleus likes to keep you close to him. You appreciate it, especially on cold evenings. Finally, he slides his fingers down until they stop at your back. He put his arms around you; Malleus himself isn’t warm to the touch, but you like to think that you are warmed by him and not by the clothes that protect you from the cold wind.

“Hm... Do you think I would be able to cast an enchantment spell on you?”

“Who knows? You are a great surprise, [Name]. Although I believe your charm is natural.”

Lilia V. (sneaky kisses)

Is there anything more exciting than knowing that someone is about to kiss you?

According to Lilia, there is such a thing, and it is the awareness that only you of the two people needed for the kiss, know that it will happen in seconds. 

But you need to be sneaky to do so. The way you approach the person is the best part, second only to the action itself.

You wouldn't have spotted him near the ceiling even if you were alert. He is hiding on the chandeliers, shielded by numerous candles in case, you were going to look dreamily at the top of the room. You wouldn't have heard the sound of his heels against the wall, which he gracefully pushed away from as you turned into the next corridor.

And finally, you wouldn't have expected him as you stand in front of the door of your room, when your boyfriend falls from the sky, blocking your passage so quickly as if he was a malicious mirage. His hallucination — of a warm breath and a steadying hand on your cheek — moves close to you.

You don’t have time to blink, let alone catch your breath - Lilia knows this. But he isn't going to sabotage you with a lack of breath; instead, he bites your lip. You gasp, realizing who is before you.

After that, he doesn’t receive any gesture or a sound, from you; you stand straight, with your arms down at your sides, waiting for Lilia to move away. You give him the blankest stare you can afford.

“Aw, what a lack of response!” He comments on your attitude with a laugh.

You cross your arms over your chest and sigh quietly.

“You’re tempting me to not give it to you.”

Lilia giggles again. He finally lets you through the door and follows you into your room. You put your book bag down by a desk and lay down on your bed.

“Fufu~ No need to be so cold~,” Lilia says cheerfully, sitting down next to you. His feet don’t touch the ground and he lightly flutters them in the air. He finally lays down next to you, hugging you from behind. “You have to face the fact that there will now be more attempts to finally get the reaction I want from you.”

“Is this revenge for a failed, filled with-no-unpredictability kiss?”

“Keep telling that to yourself.”

Silver (corner kisses)

“You don't have to get up.”

“No, I... I promised to spend this afternoon with you... So I shouldn't be sleeping now....”

You laugh softly as you run your fingers through his hair and watch it flow seamlessly through your hands. The strands fall with a grace of fluff, and Silver, along with them, descended again from his semi-reclining position onto the grass. You lay down next to him, smelling the pungent scent of the grass, which was surprisingly not prickly.

“Napping together is also a type of date,” you whisper.

“Hmm? Ah...” He sighs quietly. Silver raises his hand to touch a strand of your hair, and uses his fingertips to caress your cheek. You smile, and Silver wants to be fully awake now more than before. “You should be more demanding.”

You laugh quietly.

“Someday I will and you will regret those words.”

“I don't believe it,” he replies smoothly, rolling gently to the side. He reached into his bag, which was lying under the tree. “What time is it? ...We have another class in half an hour.”

“I'll wake you up,” you promise, watching Silver's weariness set in again; you had already learned to recognise it: how his eyes squinted softly, the timbre of his voice lowered by half a tone and he seemed even more fairy-tale than usual. “...I can even wake you up with a kiss if you want to. Like in that book we read recently.”

Silver nodded.

“Sure…” He finally takes his eyes off you and closes them. You would have been sure he is already asleep, in those few seconds, until he speaks up again. “...But do we have to wait until after I fall asleep?”

You chuckle in agreement.

“Who knows, maybe you're already dreaming,” you lean over him. “And you're talking to me in your sleep... Silver, are you asleep?”

“...Yes.”

You don’t feel that this kiss is stiff when you press your lips to his. Maybe because you are already used to sleepy kisses, or maybe because Silver's skin is very soft and warm. 

You are also convinced that the kiss is reciprocated — who knows, maybe even extended by him. Before you can lean back, Silver lifts his hands and intertwines them behind your head. With a gentle movement, he brings you even closer to him and places a slow kiss on the corner of your mouth.

He smiles as you lightly brush back his fringe.

And then he closes his eyes, his hands slowly dropping to the grass. Traces of the smile remain on his face.

As well as on yours.

“I'll wake you up in twenty minutes, then…~”

Sebek (how does one kiss what)

Sebek looks like a gentleman, but he's one only in half.

His gallantry disappears when he is upset or frustrated — you can easily press both buttons by standing too close to him and asking him for a kiss. Whether you tap your cheek on the signal or ask for it verbally, his composure will break down.

“N... No! What are you thinking!?”

You don't have to be very observant to notice how his voice breaks at his protests and his face heats up.

“Please...? Please very much? One kiss?” You are far too close. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, where you lightly hang on to pull him closer. He gasps quietly as soon as he notices that he couldn't resist the gesture. His hands refuse to obey him as he tries to lift them. Were all the forces of nature now working in favour of his annoying human?

“Ugh!! Just one!” He huffs as if this agreement made a stain on his honour. You smile broadly, and the bold gaze told him that you would have taken a kiss from him even without permission.

If he had initiated the kiss, it would certainly have been gentler; every time (with a kind of distaste, he notices that) he feels the need to hold you close, the thought of human frailty crosses his mind. Sebek knows you are strong. But it's really hard for him to remember that when you're short of breath and your knees are bowed by the strength of the hand that's on your back pulling you towards him.

Today you are the brave one. Sebek doesn't know how to behave when you're the one taking control, so he just stands motionlessly and fairly tries to reciprocate the kiss. Under your lips, you could feel the stiffness of his lips slowly starting to engage in the action.

When you finally notice that glint in his eye and the returning seriousness on his face, and his embrace stabilises, you know it's time to pull away. This is the moment when he starts to enjoy the kiss, but you can't stop the urge to break the kiss and confront him with a difficult choice: shall he beg his favourite human not to pull away, stand on his own with the use of force or magic or pretend carelessness?

That evening, he will surely try to ask you for a kiss.

You can't wait to tease him about it.

“Thank you very much!” You say, turning hastily from him. The big clock on the wall shows that you still have plenty of time before the next class, but you decide to say goodbye to Sebek and run away from him before he regains his full self-control. 

If he does that, teasing him later won’t be as fun.

Your lips twitch as you take your sit. 

Now you're just waiting for him to come to you himself.

[ichore]

WASTED SUMMERS | UTAHIME IORI

synopsis: it's common knowledge utahime hates gojo satoru, but its true reason has always been up for debate - perhaps it was you all along.

warnings, tags: afab!reader x utahime iori, reader is satoru's girlfriend since high-school, utahime is a closet case, stalker utahime, angst, sapphic yearning, reader's actions are questionable at best after satoru's death

wc: 1.3k

Utahime Iori has always reminded you of a fawn when she's around you; the way she treats you with the utmost genteel, the soft knocks of her geta against the wooden floor being the only thing that gives away she is walking behind you. When you turn around, her brown, kind eyes widen for a second before you say hello and give her a smile as you enter the classroom together. Yet, she doesn't have the opportunity to greet you as you already have a tall, snowy figure towering right next to you before his arm pulls you against his chest. She watches as you wrap your arm around Satoru's waist while he spits out his daily dose of teasing towards Utahime - rage engulfs her at the sight of you cuddling him while he's making fun of her, and before she knows it, she's screaming at Satoru Gojo at the top of her lungs.

You must assume that she's a lunatic, she thinks to herself while sitting at her table as the warmth of the afternoon light shines through the windows. She unwraps a menthol candy and begins to suck on it to soothe the ache in her throat. Another ache that has been merely growing stronger because of Satoru.

"Why are you here all by yourself, Hime?" she jolts at the sound of your voice before she looks at you standing at the door in your neatly ironed uniform, its collar barely hiding the lilac hickey your boyfriend left on your precious skin, your thighs glowing in the orange hue of the sunlight under your skirt. Fuck Satoru for daring to mark such a gorgeous being like you, she thinks, her fist clench around the plastic candy wrapper.

"Satoru barely comes here, unless necessary." she answers, forcing her gaze towards the sunset once again when she realizes you already have a nickname for her. The prettiest name she's ever been called, or did it only make her heart flutter because it rolled so sweetly off your tongue? The heat of sunrays bite at her cheek, pale red spreads across her skin by the time you take the seat ahead of her. You put your elbow on her table, resting your jaw in the cradle of your palm as you peer at her homework before looking eyes with her once more.

"The ink is already dry." you say, and she immediately knows you're questioning why she's sitting in a classroom all by herself despite her homework being done a long time ago. "You're so pretty, Hime. It'd be a shame to waste that away here all by yourself. Actually, you should wear your hair in a half up-half down style. That'd look cute. But I bet you already have many boys asking you out."

Utahime's eyes widen as you reach out your hand to run it across her bangs, following the line of her temple and along her pigtail. You hear the plastic crumble in her fist, see the redness spread further above to her forehead as you lean closer, stopping when your lips are only inches away from hers. "Or do you like girls?"

"What? No!" her laughter trembles with embarrassment as she jumps up from her seat, and grabs her bag to hold it ahead of her chest as tightly as possible before bowing a goodbye ahead of you. "Apologies, I have to go."

The hatred towards Satoru Gojo in Utahime's chest has been only growing ever since that afternoon; she's changed her hairstyle like you suggested, and you even bought her a snow white colored bow as a gift which she wears every day. Yet, the fact that the bow was your gift remains a secret, or rather a meaningless detail you don't have time to share with anyone because your time is mostly spent with Satoru.

Her stomach twists in disgust whenever your lips meet with his shit eating grin. She scoffs whenever he's praised for being the strongest, for having six eyes that sense everything in the universe. Yet, she's the only one who sees that he doesn't care about you. Not truly. Not like she does. She knows this ever since she overheard you talking about shopping at the mall on a friday afternoon, and she could not fight the urge to follow you although Satoru was holding your hand during the spree. As she was walking behind you both, she was already thinking about all the lies she would have told if Satoru caught her. It infuriated her that he never did - does he even care about you? What if someone else was following you and not her? Her nails were digging into her palms, leaving marks akin to a crescent moon when he left your side to look for clothes of his own while you were in the fitting room.

Anybody could've peaked through the cloth that served as a pathetic door between your nearly naked body and a freak. As if to prove her point, her feet silently carried her to were she saw your shadow moving. Her gaze zigzagged through the store to check no one saw her before her shaky hand rose to gently pull away the cloth to be able to see your figure in the mirror. Only one of her darkened eyes watched you; she could nearly taste your skin on her tongue, your exposed bosom inviting her lips so hard that it made her chest ache, how the lace of your lingerie hugged your curves so perfectly that she wished it were her hands that stripped them off you.

Her point was made; anybody could've seen you and Satoru can count himself lucky it was only Utahime. She swallowed hard as she stepped away from your fitting room when Satoru's annoying laughter appeared to be coming closer. Tears began to roll down on her cheeks as she was slowly walking home, realizing that whereas seeing you dressed like that changed something in her, but that gift was really meant for the man she hated the most.

Oh, but how much loathe she feels for him now that he's dead. You're standing next to his body, a used tissue in your fist as your tears constantly hit his pale chest. She watches your entire body tremble as you weep, and somehow it turns her heartache into wrath. How many years she's wanted you to leave him? How many years she's thought to tell you you will never be first for this man? How many times have you begged for him to not go? All those summers waisted for a man who prioritized the World over you - meanwhile Utahime was growing sick from the yearning for you and you only.

But you have always known this. She knows you have as your wits is one thing she loves you for. Yet, when your wet cheek find her shoulder, her arms wrap around you in a tight, warm embrace. Her parfume smells like the one you wore as a student, her lips shine in a familiar gloss as she kisses your forehead. She holds you for long minutes, her brown eyes looking at Satoru with spite and disgust until you let go of her.

Her heart ruts in her chest when she realizes you kiss her; your palms embracing her face ever so softly, yet still holding her in place. Your lips and tongue feel desperate, overwhelming enough that she has to hold into you or otherwise her knees will give in. Shoko's equipments chaotically cling as your back meets the metalic table, making you both jolt back into reality. Disheveled and out of breath, you stare at each other before your eyes find Satoru again.

"You should leave" you sob, fixing your hair and wiping her lipgloss off your lips with the back of your hand while turning your back on her. Her lips tremble as she storms out of the building, tearing the white bow out of her hair before stomping it and grinding it into the ground with her heel.

All those years, she's waited for you to become hers and even in death, your heart still belongs to Saturo Gojo.

[morganwrites12672]

No More Lies

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam runs into an old classmate while working a case (S2E2 "Everybody Loves a Clown")

Rating: PG-13

A/N: I had two comments requesting something with Sam, so, here it is! Don't forget, my request box is open!

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It had been over a year since Y/n had last seen an old friend of hers, Sam Winchester. He had left Stanford completely after Jessica had died in a fire. The entire situation had shocked all of their mutual friends. Nobody could believe that he had really just left. Yet, everyone did. Eventually, people stopped calling him.

Y/n might have stopped calling, but she didn't believe that Sam had left for no reason other than Jessica's death. The way his voice sounded whenever she did get him to pick up the phone. . . Something was off. Over the months, Sam picked up the phone less and less. She had almost given up hope. Hell, she practically had. If Sam wanted to talk to her, he would have called.

It was a fair weathered morning in Medford, Wisconsin. She had graduated from Stanford, and was finally free to do whatever she wanted. After how overwhelming college had been, she was taking a gap year. Spending it in her hometown seemed like the best option.

She was strolling through the Cooper Carnival whenever she saw him.

"What the hell?" She muttered to herself, waking through the crowd. It was Sam. He was wearing one of the red jackets of the other carnival employees. She couldn't hide the shock on her face. He left Stanford to join a carnival? Something definitely wasn't right.

"Sam!" She said as she approached him. She saw the shock on his face as he realized who she was.

"Y/n?" Sam said, his eyes wide. "What are you- oh shit. Your parents live here," He said, finally realizing why you were here. She saw him quickly glance around, almost like he was figuring out what to do.

"You joined a carnival?" She said, but it came out like a question. Nothing made sense to her right now.

Sam groaned, running a hand through his hair. She noticed he had grown it out more than usual. Y/n couldn't stop staring at him. What the hell was going on? It didn't make sense. Sam had wanted to be a lawyer. He was doing great at Stanford, pre-law. Why would he dropout and join a carnival, of all things?

"I. . . I don't know how the hell to explain this," He said with a sigh. Sam had wanted to tell Y/n the truth for a while. He had stopped answering her calls because he couldn't stand the guilt of lying to her. He had to now though. He knew she took smart to believe any bullshit excuse he could come up with.

"No more lies," She said firmly. It was obvious that Sam wasn't just on a trip with his brother. Last time she had heard from him, he was still enjoying the road trip. However, she had always heard the tension in his voice. She had always known something was wrong. She had never been what though.

"I can't tell you here."

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Her mouth hung open as she processed what Sam had just explained to her. He hadn't left Stanford because of the grief of Jess's death. No, he had left Stanford to find the demon that had killed her. She closed her mouth, but she was still unable to speak.

"I know that's a lot to take in. . ." Sam said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. He had had no choice but to explain everything. Any excuse he could come up with, well he knew Y/n would have seen right through it. He had lied to her enough. She was the last person from Stanford he still had the option to be friends with anymore. He had burned too many bridges.

"Holy shit," She said under her breath, standing up. This was definitely a lot to take in. "And you're in my hometown, where my family lives, on a case?" She asked, now it wasn't shock so much as fear that she felt.

Sam nodded grimly, "Dean and I are trying to figure out what's behind the disapearences."

"I'm helping," She blurted out.

"No. Don't even think about it," Sam said more sternly. He knew once she set her mind to something that there was no stopping her. She had always been determined like that.

"My family could be in danger!" She exclaimed. "Either we do it together, or I'll be an idiot and do it solo," She threatened.

Sam mumbled a curse. Dean was going to be furious. But, he had no other choice. He didn't trust Y/n to behave herself. She would do something stupid, and then he would have to try and save her. Since the only lead this case had was the Carnival, he begrudgingly agreed to let her help. He would be able to keep her safe if she was with him. Plus, a local would be nice to have on their side.

Dean would be furious whenever he came back to the motel and found Sam and Y/n going through Sam's research. Sam had done the best he could on such short notice to explain the Supernatural. Y/n swore that after this case she would be done. She just wanted to make sure her family stayed safe.

That couldn't have been further from the truth.

Now that she knew what went bump in the night, she couldn't rest. Sam had been pissed whenever she outright refused to go back to normal. He tried endlessly to convince her otherwise. His words did nothing to change her mind. This was her life now. Helping the brothers gank monsters, even if it had taken a while for Sam to let her leave the motel room on hunts.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! Also, my requests are currently open!

[aebeism]

it's time to go — bada lee

synopsis : stress takes over your brain, to the point where you wander through a world you can’t remember much about. while your memories are gone, bada, love and sadness are the only things you carry with you for a while — as well as your limitations in having and offering each.

wc : 2.1k

warnings : angst, ex!bada, reader suffers from temporary memory loss, homophobia, clichés, mention of reader as y/n, lowercase intended. inspired by paris, texas by lana del rey.

'how long would it take for you to forget me?' you would ask. 'a lifetime wouldn't be enough' bada would always say, without fail. it's been months since you last saw your ex. or smiled. and you're back in the country, nervous to see her again, when she insists on taking you for a walk, which seems to be going smoothly . . until she gets weirded out by all your questions and the fact you seem genuinely lost at everything.

but, even though you're not together anymore, she cares a lot for you, enough that she doesn't mind retelling bibles and bibles of the endless moments you spent together. that is, until your eyes light up at the map you come across on her phone case.

"we've been to france before, haven't we?" your voice echoes through the place you're in, the moonlight shining through bada's blonde strands as she seems to glow softly, as a whole.

she only seems to be able to whisper, as if that’d keep her feelings suppressed well enough. "we have. paris, with barely anything but a suitcase" she slightly smiles at the memory. "i'd take you there again, if i could."

silence floods the air around you.

"why can't you?" you stare at her face, intensely, waiting for her answer as you clench your hand into a fist.

"you know why" she says, and your heart aches at the familiarity of her look. "because i loved you, so i can't anymore. and you remember i hardly ever change my mind, don't you?"

“i do” you nod, even more confused, eyes stuck on the map that she had let you take from her hand. the tiny map tucked inside her phone case is covered in doodles — lines and hearts mark so many places. "why does spain have a heart?"

"that's where we performed together for the first time" she sounds happy until you question further.

"you still love me, right?" your voice is soft, you don't raise your tone, nor did you try to force the sentence into her head. yet, bada seems like she was struck by a thunder right next to her ears.

it's no surprise that bada was caught off guard, her head tilted from an angle that would make her eyes stare at yours directly. "why ask that?" she says, her voice a bit shaky.

"hm . . you said that in the past. and you still keep this thing, with hearts on both countries."

"ah. yeah" bada shifts her attention back to the paper, her eyes slowly direct themselves to your shaky hands and your shivering body, and it makes her question why you're shaking so much even though what surrounds you is a warm summer breeze. she gives you a look, her eyes taking a peek at your face as she slowly says the next sentence. "for the memories. i don’t know about now. people never really understood our love, y/n. all of my friends could show off their lovers, and some were more loved by people than others, but you always had to be my secret just because we're both women. . and i hated that."

you don't seem to recall that, you can't seem to remember what she's talking about. yet, for some reason, as painful as a heart-wrenching breakup could be . . it still burns all over your chest; the pain seems to spin, and twist your insides, in flames. perhaps, the pain was made from acid and was turned into acid as it burns your whole body. your eyes water for a second, and you frown. your expression shows that you're a bit too lost by your own emotions.

"the more they knew, the worse it got. we've been over this, y/n, don't cry" bada's words seems to pierce your heart, they make your stomach churn as you stare intensely down to the ground beneath you.

the new sentence only adds to your confusion, and although you understand every single word, you don't even know why you're here anymore, or why it hurts so much, why a woman so pretty remains by your side. it feels like your brain is trying to reconnect to reality in the middle of the night but can't catch up on anything.

“this isn’t funny” you mumble, your hands shaking, and your jaw closes up as you furrows your brows. your brain tries to work to its max as you try as hard as you can to figure out what's going on.

"it really isn’t. i proposed to you here, in venice, not long after you joined our team. and we broke up in california, remember?" she shows you the circle around italy and a small dot in the united states. "it was sweet while it lasted, though, wasn't it? our friends would get drunk on any shit they could get their hands on and pass out, and you'd just be talking and dancing with me. my memories of you are really pure, y/n."

her tone is warm, her words are just as lovely, her eyes still sparkle whenever they glance at you. but there's something so heavy behind all of that, that knowing her, you can feel it even though you can't tell what it is.

"but it really was time to let you go" bada says, a deep sigh leaves her mouth as she shifts her gaze up to look at the sky, and you think you can see the corner of her eyes starting to turn red as her eyes sparkle so brightly.

while your mind remains empty, malfunctioning even, you stare and stare as it starts to get a bit too hazy. bada's mind, in another case . . is running through all the flashbacks of the flight you two took together back home, the time when you had to leave as you two were breaking up, the many times she agonized as she wanted to call you but knew she shouldn't, she let herself sink into her own loneliness . . everything burns behind her eyes. and staring at the pain she possessed hurts you just as badly.

if you could remember all the good things she did to you right now, at this moment, you think you wouldn't be able to live with yourself anymore.

. . but, in reality, you really can't live with yourself. because you do remember.

that's why life's been so stressful. that's why suddenly your memory has a gap.

"i hope you can forgive me for that" bada says, her tone ever so softly as she still looks up at the sky. her face lights up a smile, so, so bitterly.

your brain unwires slowly as she speaks and you're met again with that look on her face, one that could make your heart ache and your stomach churn from the pain it feels. bada's watered eyes make your cheeks wet unintentionally as you dodn't realize how a cheeky tear softly rolls down the surface of your skin.

"and i'd rather you didn't ask me about love anymore, if you could" bada speaks up again. this time, she turns her head to look into your eyes, and you feel like she's begging you with how intense her gaze is.

"but our love is so sweet, why wouldn't i?" you say, your hand raises up to wipe the tears that are waiting to sneakily roll down your cheeks once again before you clench your hands into a fist, as an attempt to hold your tears back. "people don't understand it, but does that really even matter if we understand each other?" your voice is yet again so soft, unlike how determined bada sounds like when she asks you to stop asking about your relationship. you don't know why you clenched your hands, or why you cried, you don't even know why you asked bada that question, but you eagerly wait for her answer, like a puppy waiting for a treat.

the bitterness in bada's stomach feels like it's climbing up her throat and staying stuck in the middle of its way, her eyes are burning as they bore into yours, and perhaps the pain she's feeling has taken its toll on you as you can feel your heart drop for a split second. you never really want to know why you're feeling her pain, you just always do.

. . but you're content with feeling that pain, because that's the closest you can get to her heart now.

"didn't you just hear me?" bada says, her voice cracking as her eyes water once again. it's as if she's taking all her will power to hold back the tears in her eyes. it's as if she could breakdown at any moment if she let her guard down.

yet, it seems like everything suddenly goes away; you can't recall why bada is crying, and a confuse look displays on your face.

"not sure i did" you blink, your head tilted as you see the map in your hands once again, a glimpse of a memory brings you back as you quickly say . .

"oh, that's cute. we've been to france before, haven't we?"

“i just told you, y/n” bada's voice is shaking as she stares at you, her brows furrow as she starts to think that this is some kind of joke; a sick joke that you thought of to make her feel embarrassed, to remind her of how sweet you two were, and how she can never achieve what she had always wanted with you.

bada stares intensely into your eyes, she tries to get pass your facade. she wants to rip off that mask, that unfunny joke that you're trying to make. she wants to scream to your face that this isn't funny. yet ,your innocent look and your sweet smile catch her off-guard as you still wait for her answer. you even have a confuse look on your face, as if you don't understand a single word she's saying.

. . as if . . she's the mad one.

"you really don't . . know?" bada asks, worried. "do you even remember what we are?"

you nod, a weak smile on your lips as you sound way happier than you should, even though tears stream down your face just because they're streaming down on bada's face. "girlfriends."

even when bada's panicking slightly, her pretty presence still glows, and it's distracting enough. she rushes to get you in her car and you don't understand a thing, yet you let her do whatever she wants. and that's how your first hanging out in months ends.

while you're in the passenger seat, your eyes scan her whole being. and your chest does flips as you stare at her form.

"why are you so worried?" you ask. "where are we going?"

"we need to get you checked out, y/n."

you go quiet for a moment, not enjoying the concerned look on bada's face, not enjoying something despite not being able to tell what it is. you feel uncomfortable, your head's light as a feather, and the pain is spreading and slowly taking over your whole body on its own will. "ah, maybe. maybe . . everything feels . . fuzzy" you mumble. her hands grip the steering wheel harder as she speeds up. "don't worry, though. it's fine. i'm fine" you reassure bada, a weak smile shows up on your face as you hold your head.

that reminds her of how she died a little inside every time you'd say that, whenever she'd see your suffering. it doesn't help how you'd say that so many times whenever you'd both be upset about how others seemed to hate seeing you together, and the way you're saying it now only reminds her once again that her heart still aches for your words.

it reminds her that she can't put you through anything as heartbreaking again, it doesn't matter if she still cares enough to keep you alive in her memory.

letting you go was the right thing to do, and when she's right, she's right. even when she's wrong.

and she feels at home when she's alone, anyway.

© aebeism 2024